#the part that mixes their solos together makes me want to break things (affectionate)

[legendofrhythm]

Listened to Fresh Start for the first time in a long while

[redmaneroster]

Our Home Away From Home, Away From Home

[1] [2] [3] [x-x] [6] [7] [8-9] [10]

PART 4 – Coping

Qrow isn't exactly the intimidating uncle so much as he is the nervous older friend. Sure, he comes in with cheek and swagger, but he hesitates sometimes and watches what he says. Things are uncomfortable for a while.

Jaune and Qrow are sitting alone on the sofa, eyes passed the TV and out the window. Jaune breaks the silence and asks him how he knew. Qrow, surprisingly, explains that he turned into a bird and followed them home. He fully intended to leave when they got into the door but then he overheard the bit about Ruby going missing so he sat by the window and waited for updates.

He fell asleep on the windowsill.

Yang's moaning woke him up.

Both men don't even dare look each other in the eye. They both agree not to bring that up with her for as long as they live.

It's minutes later after they've both taken a swig from their flasks that Qrow asks, "So what are you two?"

"I don't know," he answers; almost apologetic. Almost fearful, but not of Qrow. "We're close and trying to… forget things."

"Yeah, I can see that." Qrow takes another swig. "Tell me, is this about Tai and Rae?"

"More than a little, yeah."

"Those two idiots aren't the least bit careful anymore… I'm sorry she's lumping it onto you. If I'd done better, none of this would have happened."

"I don't mind just listening to her."

"I know. It's the fact that she has to go through it at all… She's still in school. Distractions are dangerous when you're still fresh on the hunt."

Jaune laughs. "She's been doing this for years. If anything, I'm the one that's still green."

"You runts don't get to be proper huntsmen unless you've faced a real, proper threat or graduated. To a licensed huntsman, there's a reason why you're all still in-training. All the glory and shit is the stuff you gotta revel in while you're still in the safety of these halls instead of roughing it in the wilds day after day, facing odds stacked against you."

Qrow is amicable, asking only that he doesn't also seduce Ruby. Jaune's confusion is answer enough. He's no Casanova. He isn't Taiyang. Qrow has it that he believes men like him are unprepared as partners and fathers. Jaune disagrees, saying that his own father was like Tai. To him, any man can work their way into being a proper partner.

They talk about it for long enough that Yang stumbles back into the apartment. She hopes Qrow hasn't spilled any embarrassing stories about her.

They're deftly quiet at that.

-0-

Yang doesn't stay long (it isn't like she spends every weekend with him after all), but she lingers at the door. She hears their muffled voices through the gaps but she doesn't strain her ears to decipher them. She isn't here to eavesdrop.

She hears them laugh. Briefly, she wonders if even Qrow knows Jaune more than she does.

Breathing evenly, she calms the fiery doubts and walks off.

-0-

"What are your intentions?" Qrow asks an hour later, once he's sure Yang is long gone because of course he knows when she's there.

"We didn't sleep together."

Qrow winces at the thought of them. Then it's so deeply uncomfortable that his whole body shudders. "Ah, god, fuck! Damn it, kid, I don't want to think about you two naked! How would you feel if I shared my stories with you!"

Jaune, similarly, melts down at the thought.

Yang actually comes back because she forgot Ember Celica. She hears them freaking out through the door and pivots into the other direction. Blake asks about her bracelets. Yang says it isn't important right now.

-0-

Jaune and Qrow sip their flasks at the same time. They joke about it.

When it's quieter, Qrow can see in his eyes that he wants to ask something so he encourages him to.

Jaune, with an uneasy breath, asks what Qrow is always drinking to forget.

Turns out, he doesn't drink to forget. Drinking is when he does the most thinking, actually.

Drinking is a hobby. Less a recreational drug and more a medicinal one. "Confused? Let me explain…" He doesn't recommend it but he's built up such a tolerance for it before he even went to be Beacon as a kid that it's all basically like water to him. Alcohol isn't his coping mechanism, but he confesses that he does technically have one if it can be called that.

He lost an old friend a long time ago and he isn't sure if his semblance is to blame. The thought has haunted him since. Grief mixed so deeply with poisoned guilt has made him obsessed with loneliness.

He enjoys the quiet nights sitting alone at home, eying the moon, dreaming of what ifs. He enjoys sitting in meadows, letting Summer heat hold him like a familiar embrace. He enjoys hunting solo and coming out on top, all in her name. It's proof that, even in death, she's still the best partner he ever had.

Alcohol is normalcy. It's where he thinks the most clearly, acts the most boldly, acts like himself. Being sober unsettles his mind, makes him act irrationally.

Somehow it makes sense. He always did seem the more sober man when he's got a flask in his hand. Even subconsciously, Jaune realizes that he's made that his gospel.

Qrow warns that it certainly isn't the same way with Jaune. (Jaune knows, of course. His tolerance is likely as weak Ruby's might be.) But Qrow confesses to being more worried about what he might do if he drinks too much. He saw all the whiskey in the fridge.

"I'm not going to hurt Yang. I stop myself from going too far."

"I don't mean Yang. She can handle herself around you, I'm sure." Qrow shows him a photo on his scroll. "This is what I'm worried about."

Jaune reels. He feels a few things. Mostly anguish, discomfort. Saphron and Terra are in Vale.

"When was this?"

"This morning. I thought they'd show up today and that I could be your convenient alibi for having an occupied guest room once they dropped in, but it looks they're busy doing whatever it is they're actually supposed to be doing in the city."

"They're going to come by eventually. Even if not today then…"

"I can't stay, kid," Qrow says, cautiously, quietly. "You facing them is just as inevitable as their visit. I'm no good at this stuff but... my advice: Don't run."

-0-

Yang comes back to Jaune sat at the sofa, staring at a movie he isn't watching. Yang turns it off and when the screen buzzes into silence, Jaune finally realizes she's in the room.

He doesn't notice the many bags she brought with her.

When she asks what's going on, he tells her that Terra is in town.

Yang asks if Saphron is with her.

He realizes that he forgot to mention his own sister.

Yang takes his hand and leans into his side. "It's that bad, huh?"

His free hand pulls out the now empty flask. "I might need more than the watered down whiskey."

She sits on his lap and pushes his flask away. "Get drunk on me." Her eyes are half-lidded and pleading, a promise etched into the wetness of her lips and heat rolling off her breath.

He does what she asks.

They press together so closely that he feels another one of inhibitions snap.

That night he decides – without really thinking about why – to steal a kiss while she sleeps. He realizes that the gesture is far too affectionate than it should be but can't bring himself to regret it.

She was awake the whole time.

-0-

PART 5 – Accommodation

Yang fixates on the kiss. Not that it's changed how she feels or how she's going to feel, only that she wonders what's changed for him with her. She finds herself lingering on his silhouette in bed, paying attention to subtleties in his tone, the way he moves around her or if he catches himself saying anything he wants to say but can't.

And all she's found in mapping him out is that he's no different from before.

Blake tells her that it could mean any number of things. Weiss maintains that it has to be burgeoning love. Ruby, much to their surprise, tells them that it was probably a moment of weakness and that he probably still doesn't know what it means.

The girls – Pyrrha included – suggest that Ruby is probably right. But Yang finds herself unwilling to accept it. She isn't one for sitting still. So instead of deferring to their wisdom… she hatches a plan.

It falls apart immediately.

-0-

Lingerie is her first idea, a vibrant red with thin enough material to tear off with ease. Scented candles to fill the spaces, lighting the bed and the nightstands while drowning the rest in dark. A nice ambient drone off the speakers in another room just to fill any silence. And makeup, the kind that layers thick and she feels physically on her face but comes recommended from Coco's article on a magazine.

She calls up Pyrrha to coach her on it, but the girl only blinks at her beyond the digital lense and asks, "Do you want him to sleep with you or fall in love?"

At first, Yang is confused until she takes a good hard look at herself in the mirror and… doesn't recognize who's looking back at her.

"I don't know," she says honestly. She smiles placatively and hangs up. Pyrrha knows she'll figure it out, but Yang has to first get rid of the mess she's made in his bedroom. Everything else will follow after.

She tosses the heels in the bin (they were cheap anyway), rips off her stockings, and covers up the rest in a bath robe. She tries to wash off the makeup but it smears and will take longer than she has time for. She tries too frantically to get the candles out and accidentally sets fire to one of his chairs – she ends up violently launching it into the tiled shower wall and leaves the shower running.

Finally was the music wafting in from the living room, playing off her scroll. She's already halfway into the living room when the front door opens. She freezes in place just as Jaune is letting in his guests, Saphron and Terra.

Yang doesn't know Saphron, not really, but there's a mutual trust between them when the older girl runs over to her, takes her by the wrist, and drags her back into Jaune's room.

Minutes later, Saphron is dabbing some solution on her cheeks. The makeup comes off in clumps – some semblance of relief comes with them.

"I'm Yang," she says suddenly.

Saphron's bemused smile banishes any tension she has left. Yang already embarrassed herself and not much could make it worse at this point when your first impression is half naked in the living room. She'd also spied the lingerie but she'd thankfully neglected to mention the familiar strap peeking off her shoulder.

"Saphron," she says but says no more. She focuses on the task at hand and Yang quiets with her. Then Saphron starts humming. It's familiar, as if carved out of a chapter in her life that she can hardly remember. Suddenly it's clear that this woman is a mother.

"My brother mention me a lot?" Saphron asks.

"He tries not to but can't help it. You always manage to come up in his stories to curb his nonsense. You'd be a punchline if the stories were supposed to be funny."

"Tends to happen." Saphron winks. "Us older sisters have to butt in all the time."

"He told you about me and Ruby?" She wasn't expecting to come up in conversation.

"No… I can just tell." Another smile. More secretly knowing. And she is briefly afraid that all her secrets have already been laid bare. "He told me you were his roommate."

"Ah." A safe descriptor. She'd been expecting a cover story like being his live-in girlfriend. She'd even prepared the lines and a backstory. It's a small a comfort that doesn't have to go through that.

Saphron pouts for a moment before her eyes turn devilish. "He also mentioned that you two share a bed and make out." Yang blinks at her. Her confusion also confuses Saphron. Isn't that supposed to be embarrassing? "Is… was he wrong?"

"Uh… no. That's exactly it. I guess I just wasn't expecting the truth."

"And you really aren't sleeping together?" Saphron peels the gown off her shoulder and tugs at the bra strap. Yang yelps when it snaps back into place. "With an outfit like this?"

"It was a lapse in judgement." She gestures to herself. "I swear this isn't how I normally am. I don't think I'll ever put on something like this ever again."

"Hm… a honeymoon might change your mind, but let's not dwell on that. You've got scented candles in the corner and I can smell…" – she sniffs the air – "burnt wood from the bathroom? What led to all this?"

"I'm… not sure I should say."

Saphron takes Yang's hands in hers. "You don't have to tell me, but it feels like you're struggling with something all on your own."

"I'm not, actually," she admits sheepishly. "I just didn't take anyone's advice. I don't like the idea of waiting for something to happen when I can already do something about it."

"There is value in patience."

"I don't think waiting is my problem. I think I'm just too proactive to do nothing."

"My brother leave you hanging or something?"

"Kind of? … I've said too much already."

"Or not enough." She smiles in that way again. As if knowing. "But I won't pry. I know that sometimes it's better to wait and come to your own conclusions. Right or wrong, a decision you make yourself stays with you and sometimes that's more valuable than being handed the keys to the castle."

"You really think highly of Jaune, don't you?"

"Hm? What makes you say that?"

"I've never heard someone describe the way to someone's heart as 'keys to a castle'."

Saphron gives her a catty cheek. "Oh, so you are in love with him." But she is surprised again when Yang doesn't blush.

She shrugs instead, looking away. Not out of embarrassment but to eye her own fragmentary reflection on the corner of the vanity's mirror. "I wouldn't know. I've never been in love before."

"But… you're so pretty."

"So is Jaune. So is my sister. And all but one of my roommates have never even kissed anyone before coming to Beacon. It isn't like we don't have time to fall in love, it's just not always our biggest concern. They drill it in you early that staying alive out there should be your priority." She eyes the bra strap on her shoulder in the mirror, hates what it represents, what it almost made her do. She pulls up the sleeve again, hiding it away, and she almost looks like herself. "I think that's why I like being around him. He doesn't pass judgement on whether not my problems are big or small. He just knows they're important to me and lets me be heard."

"Is being a good listener what you look for in a partner?"

"It might." She laughs. "It's hardly an extensive list, though, isn't it?"

Saphron huffs, settling herself comfortably beside her and dusting off her skirt. "Lists are overrated. Not that you shouldn't have standards, but if you want to extensively checklist every potential partner, you'll end up with a growing criteria less and less people will be able to fill. And trust me, I've lived a storied life – been dating people since I was fifteen – and I've found that it's easier to talk to people and let things click. Hell, I wasn't even trying to flirt with Terra when we first met. She was the wingwoman to the girl I was actually trying to get with and we just happened to get along better."

"Sounds like quite the story."

"Why don't I tell you over dinner? It'd be a nice little preamble to me and Terra. I suspect we'll be meeting quite often in the near future."

"I guess I will be tagging along with Jaune if you really want me to."

"If I really want you to? You sound a little meek there," Saphron teases. "Jaune described you as the kind of girl with confidence to rival a peacock. Was my brother wrong or are you just starting to sound like him?"

"Hey, I don't…! Oh shit, you're right."

"Fair tradeoff, I suppose. Jaune's got peacock confidence now and I guess you're to blame."

"Ha! No, I can't take credit for that. Pyrrha – his ex – I'm sure she's your culprit."

"We've met. Jaune brought her over last year before they started dating. Wasn't even going to take her to the dance, the little dunce."

"Oh, but they hooked up that night! After they both showed up stag and he tore up the dance floor in a dress."

"A DRESS!?" Saphron screamed, her eyes lighting up with mischief Yang realizes she's just armed her with.

A knock at the door. "Everything alright in there?" Jaune asks, muffled through the mahogany.

"We're fine!" Yang says.

"Peachy, little brother," Saphron adds with a flare of sarcasm, "but you're going to regret keeping secrets from me."

"Yang!" Jaune screeches, panicked. "What did you tell her?"

Yang laughs, hearty and comfortable with Saphron snickering beside her. It almost feels right, like it's something that always should have been, and she wonders why she was ever so afraid. "What you should have told her! You know you can't keep secrets from big sisters!"

"Oh really? I can promise you that there are secrets Ruby hasn't told you."

Yang shot up from her seat. "What!?"

Saphron sits back. "Aren't you two lively…" she whispers.

"I'm no snitch, Xiao Long!" Jaune shouts, snark clear in his voice.

"You'll fess up one way or another!" Yang, in her excitement, marches to the door.

Saphron bolts out of her place and grabs her arm. "You're still underdressed," she says calmly, belying the panic quickened in her chest.

Yang looks down at herself. She's showing a little cleavage too with the loosened bath robe. She takes an extra step back for good measure and clutches the lapels closed.

"C'mon. You're looking a little too comfortable now. Let's find you something modest." Saphron tugs her towards the closet.

"Backing down already?" Jaune said in what – to him – was a moment of silence.

"I'll get you yet, Vomit Boy!" Yang jeers.

Saphron perks up. "Vomit Boy?"

Jaune groans behind the door. "Yang!"

Yang, despite the grin tugging at her cheeks, silently promises to make it up to him later.

-0-

Jaune stands in the center of his living room, staring at his shut door. Saphron has just dragged Yang into it, and his mind has been reeling with what he'd seen. Barely dressed, slow music off her scroll, and with smeared makeup on? He doesn't want to come to any conclusions, not without talking to her first, but the obvious ones come to mind.

He isn't certain he can reckon with the inevitable outcome.

Behind him, Terra sensibly cuts off Yang's music playing off her scroll. Jaune nearly jumps when he's brought out of his stupor and into her beautiful, suffocating presence. Terra is still as captivating as he remembers, tinted with the gloss of a boyhood crush that refuses to die. At least with Saphron around he could suffuse it, but not alone in the heavy quiet of his apartment.

Terra gives him a bemused smile. Ever sympathetic. She pats the seat cushion beside her and Jaune joins her, plopping on the cushion with a held breath he eases out of himself.

"You seem surprised," Terra says. "And here I thought you'd already seen her in less."

"I did say we've only made out… and snuggled." He can't decide which one is more scandalous. Perhaps neither. Or both, given that they aren't even dating.

"Yeah, despite that being unusual enough to be true, I still had my doubts."

"Have any still?"

"No. You definitely don't look like the kind of couple that's seen each other naked."

Jaune's eyes narrow. "We're not a couple."

"I believe you," she says with a smile. She's so dangerously close to him that he can smell her perfume. A glance shows him that she's eying him expectantly. He's tense, uncertain, and it's clear that she can see that. She pulls away, giving him room to breathe. "Guessing you've still got a crush on me then?"

His spine gets stiffer, spotting her at the corner of his eye because he refuses to look directly at her. She's smiling still. Being cheeky. "Terra…" he groans.

She scooches a little closer again (taking a chance that his nerves might not erupt), and lets his heat wash over her and lets him feel hers. The affection is platonic, he knows that. He and his sisters huddle together for comfort often, and Terra has just learned to follow suit. But he can't help but revel in it, letting it sink into his pores till it leaves a familiar tingle.

A small part of him hates it but mostly hates himself for indulging.

"If I asked you why, would you tell me?" Her tone is quiet, almost a whisper. She's trying to ease him.

"Because you cared about me."

She chuckles because it's naïve and honest and oh so very like him that it's almost nostalgic. "Was that really all?"

"When you're young and naïve, that's all it takes."

"I didn't know you were lonely."

It was his turn to chuckle. "I wasn't. I was never some lonely little kid who didn't have any friends. I had enough love from my sisters alone to fill my heart a hundred times over."

"Then why?"

He shrugs. "I don't know. Do I need to have been missing something in my life to want to fall in love?"

Her feet shuffles in place. "I guess I haven't seen it that way. After I was old enough to date, I'd not gone a year without someone I wanted to be with or was already with. I always felt like love completed me, like it does now with Saph… Is that not how you feel?"

"I'm… I'm not saying love doesn't make me happy or anything. It's just that I don't feel like I need it to feel whole. I don't think it'd complete me, just that it might be nice to have too. Is that not how you feel?"

She chuckles again, a nervous uncertainty tinting her quiet, teahouse melody. "I don't know. Never been without it, really. At least not for long."

He looks at her – examines her, really – because her cheek is gone, as is her confidence, and it feels like she's revealing her artifice in a vulnerable moment. She's digging gaps into her own thoughts and he can see her pick apart her own internal logic and she seems more and less somehow. Like she's less the perfect cut gem he thought she was and sees the girl underneath it.

He's less tense all of a sudden.

And for a moment he feels like he can come to grips with everything that she is. Who she was to him, who she wasn't, and who she's become. A boyhood crush, flightful fantasy, and… he can't bring himself to think of the last. Fist clenching and unclenching, a slow motion that tries to hide the trembling in his digits.

He swallows and he worries if she can hear it. She doesn't, but she can see something's troubling him.

"How's Adrian?" he asks.

"Oh, he's –"

"A DRESS!?" Saphron screams from beyond the locked bedroom door.

Jaune jolts up from his seat and nearly bumps into Terra who'd stood along with him. She steps aside and he hurries to the door, asking after them. Terra tries not to pay attention (she can barely hear what they say beyond the door anyhow) but then he mentions Yang's sister, Ruby – the girl Terra thought he actually has a crush on – and Yang audibly shouts, "What!?" passed the door at him.

"Aren't you two lively…" Terra whispers.

-0-

Dinner is a largely pleasant affair until the alcohol gets introduced. The hills of drink they stack onto the table to peruse intimidates Jaune and he cautions that he cannot – will not – drink anything that isn't at least on the rocks. He'll shoulder tomorrow's regret but he doesn't want to sleep through the sun burning through the morning and afternoon.

Saphron and Terra share a glance before pulling something out of Terra's bag. Diadem, a vintage Vacuan drink stronger than everything else on the table. They only ask that he a takes a shot. It'll buzz him through the evening.

It's too strong and he nearly hurls.

Yang half remembers all the stories they tell. Saphron regales them with tales of how she met Terra, the proposal, the wedding, and even the honeymoon off the coast of Menagerie. Jaune spouts on about his team and a misadventure with his twin on an old farm and a horse, and Yang, somehow, talks about a food fight twice. It's funnier the second time around.

There's a gap in her memory of whatever story Terra was telling because she fixates on one part and can't focus on anything else. "…she's little Adrian's babysitter," she mentions briefly but doesn't have the faculties to ask about.

When Saph and Terra leave for their hotel, things wind down and Yang's sitting on the sofa in Jaune's hoodie. Yang returns the shirt and shorts she borrowed but she feels like wearing something that's his might help with tonight.

Jaune joins her, easing down slowly as his head rides the waves of a dying Vacuan storm.

"Who's Adrian?" she asks.

He's quiet for a moment, perhaps from the drink. "He's Terra's son."

Yang can see it. Saphron isn't mentioned deliberately. He doesn't just forget this time. "Oh! From a previous marriage?"

He shakes his head. "No, nothing like that," he says, sobering up.

"A previous partner then?"

Jaune says nothing. He's sitting upright. Rigid and awake. There's something there. Maybe Terra had a previous partner he didn't like, but then things click into place. Realization sets in like headlights through the fog, suddenly and violently.

"Oh my god…" she whispers, "…he's yours."

He doesn't answer. Doesn't need to. She grabs onto his arm and pulls him into a hug. She's hit a nail on the head and panic sets in when she thinks she's opened up an old wound. It's precisely the kind of thing they're supposed to help each other forget. Only, Yang doesn't realize that Jaune is so caught off-guard by her sudden burst of affection that he's at first startled and – when she goes in for a kiss and ends up headbutting him instead – he ends up laughing it off.

His mirth is almost strange until it makes complete sense somehow. She's done her job, kept her end of the bargain, and now she's laughing with him too.

When he's calmed down, he lies back on the sofa when she goes to get a drink. She comes back to find him lying across the sofa and she makes the executive decision to just fall on top of him. She crashes into his stomach with a hefty oof from him and she makes no apologies for retaliating.

"Sofa hog," she jeers from her perch on his chest, chin resting on her arms.

"I bought it," he shoots back playfully, eying her down from the arm rest.

"Still pay half the rent. And I never asked you to pay me back when I foot the bill for refurbishing them."

"Wouldn't have needed to if Zwei didn't tear them up."

"It was a joint decision that we took him in for the week. You're as much to blame."

He sighs. "I guess I am."

It isn't actually an issue. They've basically already had this discussion and Yang had insisted on covering for it at the time. They're only stalling. Even Yang isn't quite sure she wants to go on.

She doesn't know how long it takes her to summon the courage to speak again. All she knows is that he's willing to answer, even if it would be easier for both of them to stay ignorant. To let these problems solve themselves and never to bear your heart until it is absolutely necessary.

But she speaks anyway. "I thought it was the wedding that got to you."

And so does he. "No, it… it just happened at the wedding. Saph had to go talk to an old classmate and so she left Terra with me. I was already holding Adrian and with Joan running off somewhere, we were alone. Just me, Terra… and our son. It hit me then. Slowly, like when you stare at yourself in the mirror at the night of a recital. You think, 'This is it. This is where things fall apart… or meet in the middle.' I knew I had to make peace with it before it got worse."

"And your answer was watered-down whiskey the minute you got back home?"

He shrugs. "Qrow gives good advice."

"Hm… maybe. I still think mine is better."

"Oh? And what's that?"

She pushes herself up over him, arms at either side of his head till her silhouette is against the dim glow of the incandescent bulb, warm light pooling through her hair till it looks like it's on fire. "Get drunk on me," she says, her breath tickling his nose and burning his lips.

But he doesn't kiss her. She sees the way his lips quiver, almost wanting to, but he doesn't even try.

She retreats instead, nestling back onto his chest but his cheeks are still burning and she swears hers are too. The room feels like it's boiling.

"When we kiss, do you think of her?"

"Never," he says honestly, and that seems to be the part that stings the most to him. "That's the most dangerous thing about you. You don't taste, feel, or smell like anyone else." He looks at her and only her, and she shrinks away as she gets up and off of him because she feels like a moon in a sea of stars, and as he straightens up and sits parallel to her, his eyes never leave, like a captive witness.

He leans in, and she doesn't know if it's to kiss her or just her sheer pull on him. She ultimately doesn't decide. Their foreheads meet – her eyes are downward but locked to his lips – and she breathes quietly as she asks, "Jaune? Are you in love with me?"

"Yang, are you even sure you are?"

"I… don't know yet."

He pulls away just an inch as something unsettling furrows his brow.

He gets up. "Gimme a minute," he says, and he's gone for just long enough for her to notice that the familiar heat she had pressed against her is missing.

She doesn't know what to expect when he comes back with his hand clutching a small object, but she would have never guessed a ring. It's nestled in a velvety box that he sits on the coffee table and he leaves it open as he sits down and watches it with her like it's some alien thing. He doesn't speak but he gives her a glance and…

It's then that she realizes that she's afraid. The look on her is uncertain – she can feel it, and she feels it freeze on her features.

"Did you pick this out for me?"

He shakes his head. "It was supposed to be Pyrrha's."

She blinks. "Is… is this what scared Pyrrha off?"

"No… it's what scared me off." He leans back against the sofa and she takes that as an invitation to do the same. They're huddled close, shoulder-to-shoulder. "Our breakup was only supposed to be temporary. Some tournament rival tried to pin her to a scandal when they found out she slept with me."

"What? Why would that be a problem?"

He snorts. "I was too young." Out loud, it sounds absurd.

"You were seventeen," she reasons.

"And Pyrrha was eighteen. As far as the law is concerned, Pyrrha slept with a minor."

Yang can feel herself coil up like a loaded spring. "Well, that's fucked! You're barely three months apart!"

"Didn't matter to them. Tabloids would have pinned it on her for the rest of her career. The context doesn't matter to the public."

"Okay…" she says slowly, stifling her frustrations for later. "So, what changed then? Why did you set her up with Sun?"

"Because I went to the wedding and found myself thinking about Terra again. It gave me some unhealthy doubts. I loved Pyrrha, I really did, but it felt wrong when I danced with Terra that night, holding our son in our arms… It felt like I'd betrayed Pyrrha somehow, even in my own mind, by feeling those things. It didn't matter that I didn't actually do anything about it."

"That's not how feelings work though," she says. "You're supposed to have doubts sometimes because people aren't perfect or consistent. Life isn't fiction, Jaune."

"I know that now." He shrugs, resigned in a way. "I found out a little too late though."

"How did you even get Pyrrha to agree to this?"

"She's not very honest about her feelings. Doesn't have the courage to be. When she heard that I'd pushed Sun to ask her out because Nora can't keep a secret, she thought that I might have given up on her. By the time we got the chance to be honest about it, she'd already gotten to know Sun enough to start taking him seriously."

Yang glances back at the ring. Not quite as alien as it was earlier. It just seems strange now, like it's out of place. There's a small comfort in that. "So where does the ring come in?"

"I got it as a sort of celebration when would get back together, but then people started asking about what it meant and… it felt like I'd stumbled onto some finality between us. Like I'd somehow found 'the one' over a year of friendship, a few dates, and showing up to the dance in a dress."

Yang smiles. Not because he seemed silly at the time, but because he's smiling. Because, in spite of his somber reflections, he can't help but feel like what he'd done turned out to be a triumph.

Her arm loops into his and his head leans on hers in response. "Doesn't sound like a bad set up to me," Yang says, shrugging against his arm. "If anything, it sounds like the stars aligned for you two." She speaks honestly. Forgets herself and sees him as Pyrrha's too-perfect other half to a too-perfect couple. If things hadn't turned out the way they did, she might have cheered them on for the rest of their lives. But that isn't how it turned out.

"That's what everyone was saying. It's like we'd ripped ourselves out of a fairytale, only I was a dense, blind princess and she was some stoic, stubborn prince. But it put a lot of pressure on us, living up to that story, and it felt like I wasn't as ready as I should have been. I came to Beacon unprepared for a lot of things. Might have hurt the people depending on me by not being ready. I was lucky my shield arm was always sturdy, but my heart wasn't. I naively worried that my inexperience would hurt us irreversibly." He rolls a hand over his knuckles. Contemplatively, regretfully. "I thought I was leaving her in good hands, but even if that's true, should I still have stayed instead? Did I have any right to decide if we should have stayed together or not?"

Her fingers slide off his arm and weave into his. She's huddling closer now, feet off the ground and knees tucked up to her chest. "I think, when we fall in love, we have to decide for ourselves if we want to keep going. We don't choose for the other in that. We choose for ourselves cause we are who we're supposed to look out for. You have to protect yourself first." Yang clutches tighter, and somehow Jaune can tell that her mother is involved. "That's the beautiful thing about a love that works. We decide for ourselves and it all just happens to fall into place with someone else. It doesn't always magically align – sometimes you don't agree with what they want or how they take it – but real love compromises just as much as it just… clicks." Like her and her dad. And Ruby. And maybe – if things turn out alright – her mom.

He wants to believe her. Even if he and Pyrrha didn't pan out, they still love each other as friends and things ultimately haven't changed between them. They were always bound to work out their issues and it's clear now that they've compromised without needing to sacrifice the friendship they'd fostered together.

He wants to thank her, but her eyes are away and she's chewing her lip. Yang is thinking of something else. Her sigh cuts through the silence and she's too shy to look at him.

"Jaune, why did you kiss me?"

He blinks. "What?"

"Last night. In bed. While I was sleeping."

His eyes widen. He's been caught. "Is it really so unusual?"

"It is when you aren't thinking of Terra or Adrian. When you do it just because you wanted to."

"How… how could you tell?"

She can hear the panic in his voice. Caught and cornered, it makes her a little happy to know he's unable to hide it. But it's the speed of which he accepts his fate that gets her grinning, because it's as if a part of him is tired of hiding it. "Because you weren't trying to forget something. You weren't trying to tease me and I certainly can't flirt back when I'm asleep…" She shoots him a knowing look and he gulps through a feeble foundation of defiance. "It was none of that. You did it hoping I wouldn't notice. You did it because you were hiding something you wanted."

He crumbles under her teasing. "Y-Yang, I… I can't –"

"Shh, it's okay," she says evenly, defusing his tension and giving him a moment to breathe and look into her eyes. "Don't jump to a conclusion you aren't ready to make." Her tone is slow and deliberate, fingers gliding along the skin of his arm like a soothing, gentle caress. "I get it, Jaune. Like me, you're still trying to figure it out."

He pulls away but fixes her with a stern, serious look. She doesn't realize he's holding her hand till he's squeezing it. He's composed, certain, and so deftly drunk on her that Yang remembers Jaune telling her that drowning in drink gives him clarity. "That's just it, Yang. I know I feel something. I've been feeling a lot of things when I'm with you…" His confidence wanes before he admits that, "It's just that I haven't figured out what I'm supposed to do about it."

Yang blinks twice and tries to speak but can't. And suddenly she can't stop the curl of her cheeks when she feels a growing smile coming.

He's almost afraid. "Yang?"

"Sorry. I'm still… you know you just confessed, right?"

"Ha!" he laughs, heart squeezing his chest. Relief in many ways settling into his skin. "Were you expecting me to say 'I love you'?"

"…"

He chuckles. "Oh my god, Yang."

"Is it weird that I'm a little giddy about that total cliché? Say it again."

He thinks it a little much but the words are easy, flowing freely from his lips. "I love you."

"Agh! You're a serious cheat. Why is it so easy for you to say?'

"Cause I already made peace with it. You stood there in a white dress and I could see you tearing Terra out of that place in my mind and putting yourself there in her stead. I already knew. You've been nothing but a tidal wave to my emotions, just swallowing everything up and leaving little traces of yourself everywhere."

He settles back into the cushions, sinking comfortably into it. "I used to sit on this couch and scream curses at the moon through the window," he says. "Nowadays my eyes are glued to the screen watching a movie with you. I used to be careful about what I threw into the sink because I was afraid I'd have to call in a mechanic to fix the shredder again, and now I don't even give it a second thought."

"And you used to lie in bed thinking about her…" Yang teases.

"Actually, no. I was at peace when I went to bed. Pyrrha trained me to shut down once I got under the sheets. Nowadays it feels like the sandman keeps missing my eyes with the way you move me around in bed."

"I don't think your tongue's been doing much complaining."

"Seems you were willing to use more than just your tongue earlier," he says, teasing her. She shrinks a little, embarrassed. "What were you doing anyway?"

"I was, uh, trying to seduce you."

"Oh… What changed?"

She groans. "I guess my wires got crossed. I thought that if I got you to sleep with me, this" – she gestures between them – "would suddenly clear up. But I'm not that kind of girl. I don't put on lingerie all the time expecting you to see it. Not even sure I'm the kind of girl who wants her clothes ripped off when I get you riled up."

"Yeah, your outfits look expensive. Custom fit and embroidered."

"I wouldn't hit you if you tried, FYI. I'd maybe cry or get upset."

"I'll try not to ravage you through your clothes if that ever happens."

"If? Still don't think we're gonna end up doing the dirty tango after all we've been through? Seems inevitable at this point."

"I think we'll either do it when it makes sense or decide we aren't meant for each other."

"I don't know. I'm pretty snug right where I am." She gives him cheek, brimming with certainty. Confidence. "Still," she says more seriously, "are you really so ready to give up what we have? I don't see it happening, but it looks like you think we're just as likely to stay together as splitting up."

He looks away. Yang is surprised to find him embarrassed, not concerned.

"You don't actually feel that way," Yang says gleefully. "You're as sure as I am."

"I'm not ready to take that risk just yet," he confesses.

She moves to straddle him and loops her arms around his neck. "I can wait."

His hands grip her waist through the thickness of the hoodie. "I can't ask you to do that."

"I'm not asking you. I'm telling you. I told you that love was about deciding for yourself and settling into compromises if our choices don't align. I'm choosing to stay. And – I hope – we agree to compromise."

He takes a moment to look away before locking eyes with her. He leans in and pecks her lips so briefly that she doesn't get the chance to kiss back.

"Wh-what?"

"It's how I'm supposed to say yes, aren't I?"

She laughs and so does he. Yang was expecting to cap off the night with a kiss, pressing bodily into the sheets as their hands roam their bodies, but none of that happens. They clean the dinner the table, take separate baths, and settle into bed together.

She does kiss him on the neck for good measure but he realizes that he can still feel the kiss and it isn't because there's a tingle there. Cracking an eye open, he notices the gloss on her lips. "Are you wearing lipstick?"

"The light kind," she says. "Told myself I'd leave a mark on you during my little lapse earlier. I've decided not to give you a hickey. Consider it an act of mercy."

He shuts his eyes and tries to ignore it but can't. He's painfully aware of it and he just knows he's gonna smudge that on something. It'd be funny if it's Yang's face but he'd hate to get it on his sheets. He sits up. "Yeah, nope. I'm washing this off."

"What? C'mon!" She grabs onto him, anchoring him back into bed.

"Nope. Not doing it," he says defiantly.

"Have it your way, Arc. Hickey it is!"

"Wait, Yang! Yang!"

-0-

Jaune is reminded everyday that he showed up to brunch that following morning with a hickey his scarf couldn't hide. Yang makes it up to him by buying dessert.

The get-togethers go on and Yang is less and less embarrassed about openly teasing Jaune and showing her affections publicly. Jaune retaliates, of course, and they even get hot and bothered in the hallway of a movie theater. They spend the rest of the movie in a stall. Terra finds them and is honestly just surprised they haven't taken each other's clothes off… ever.

Jaune and Yang don't tell them that neither of them and ready to go that far yet. Jaune takes the brunt of the blame and says that if he doesn't hold back, they'll end up doing something stupid. Saphron slips Jaune a condom and he regrets everything for the rest of the night.

Two weeks pass with much the same. Sometimes they introduce Saphron and Terra to some of their other friends, and they even manage a weekend together in a cottage near the coast. They're excited about reuniting with Pyrrha and they even meet Sun on her scroll.

Yang finds out that Saphron is every bit a mother as she is a big sister, and Jaune reminds her that she is practically no different herself.

Jaune learns that Qrow and Terra are old classmates and that they had more in common than they thought.

And after Joan is caught scheming with Nora and getting her and Ren back together, after Blake engorges the shrimp platter on a Schnee-sponsored dinner, after Weiss tames a friendly rivalry between Winter and Saphron about who has the cuter sibling, after Ruby gets her cheeks pinched till they go red cause she lost a bet and showed up in an adorable beowulf costume, and after Penny freaks out and her head pops off at dinner (her severed head still tries to chew on a salad)… their two weeks together are up and they're standing at the train station, ready to see them off.

It's been raining for the last few days and everything is damp and cold. Even the air is still thick with the smell of misty rain water and the sky hasn't seen the sun even peek through the cloud cover. It's almost a somber way to say goodbye.

Saphron is introducing Yang to her babysitter and little Adrian over a video call. Jaune stands aside, unwilling to let the last few weeks burn away at the sight of his biological son gurgling through the screen.

Terra nudges into his side. "Can we talk?"

He nods and she pulls them away beside a pillar. Saphron notices and winks at her wife.

"Is there something wrong?" Jaune asks.

"Nothing, actually. I might even say our impromptu vacation here might as well have been perfect."

"Impromptu?"

"I guess it never came up but… we were only supposed to be here for a few days."

"Why did you stick around then? Wouldn't that have been imposing on your babysitter?"

"Oh, Taffy was plenty happy to be at the house with Adrian. She's an orphan and she takes every excuse to come over." She leans in to whisper. "We might even adopt her once I get a raise at the office so look forward to a niece! And, really, is it such a surprise that we enjoy spending time with you and your friends?"

"After the bonfire? I guess not."

"Good. Now that isn't why I needed to talk."

"Oh…" He glances at Yang a few feet away. He can barely hear her and Saphron through the rancor of the station.

"I know you've been holding back."

"Did Yang tell you that?"

"Call it a big sister's intuition."

"You're an only child."

"Not anymore, I'm not. Now I've got six little sisters and a not-so-little brother." She pats his chest then busies her hands with straightening his collar. "A little brother who is too afraid to take a chance and would much rather play it safe than play at all."

"Terra…"

"I know you're afraid that you aren't ready. I wasn't either. Hell, sometimes I worry I'll mess up and ruin a perfectly good marriage. These are all normal things to be afraid of, and for some people, these fears don't go away. We just learn to live with them."

She slides her hands to his arms and down to fingers till she's holding them softly and looking up at him. There's a quiet concern in her sad little smile that he isn't sure how to respond to.

"I think you've driven yourself to be so careful with your feelings that you've forgotten to just take things as they come," she says. "I know you have to be careful with your heart but the thing isn't made of glass. Even if it hurts, even if it hurts easily, the fact that you're still in one piece should be more than enough proof that you aren't as fragile as you think you are. Maybe take a risk. Maybe love will hurt, but so few of us get better at it without giving it a shot first. Like a lot of things, Jaune, it takes a lot of trial and error."

"I've been down this road before already…"

She squeezes his hands. "And you'll go down it again and again. Sometimes people find love once and that's all it takes. But for the rest of us? For most of us? We gotta keep trying."

With a kiss on the cheek and a whispered 'good luck', Saphron and Terra disappear into accelerating train until even it vanishes into the horizon.

Jaune stares into the middle distance and Yang, much like Terra, nudges into his side. "What did you talk about?" she asks.

He shrugs. "Stuff."

"Oh, well that's lame. Should've had more to say to someone you really care about." It's clear she doesn't buy it.

He knows she doesn't. "Yeah, real shame I wasn't more profound and emotional."

She rolls her eyes because she'll let it be and won't pry for his sake. "C'mon, it's getting chilly out here and it might rain again with the wind picking up." She makes to walk off.

"Hey, Yang?"

She stops. "Yeah?"

For a moment he doesn't speak, his eyes are uncertain and elsewhere but then his fists clench as if he's just convinced himself to do something. "Wanna get dinner?" he asks, reaching out to take her by the hand. "We can put on something nice and there's a real fancy place with the best lobster in town."

Yang isn't sure how to take it. She doesn't resist when his thumb brushes over her knuckles, but she summons a bit of bravery herself, stepping closer and resting a fist against her beating chest. "Is… this a date?"

She yelps when he pulls her in. He kisses her, drowns her tongue and melts their bodies together till she's flush against him and tugging at his hair. There's still fear in his eyes when they pull away, but there's a determination in there she's happy to see. "Is that answer enough?"

She giggles through the haze of her burning cheeks. "Plenty."

Then she's on him this time and tilting him backwards with her lips alone until he's just as hazy. Still, he doesn't expect it when she clambers onto his back and slips into a piggyback ride before she starts laughing uncontrollably.

"Hiya, noble steed! To the bike!" she cheers from her perch atop his head.

He's laughing too, even if he's huffing a little from the jog to Bumblebee. "What's gotten into you?"

"I can't help it…" she whispers into his hair, excitement mixing into a bubbling cocktail with a giddiness she can't stop. "I'm happy."

[thesolotomyhan]

Narcos México: Dating them would include: (7/7)

ok, i was too lazy to fully edit so please forgive me if this is actually trash :((

Tags: @fandomnerd16​ , @visintaes​ , @sheeshgivemeabreak​

Warnings: NSFW!

Güerito is the softest out of everyone, a KING, you two are just so damn cute together

The most loving and affectionate relationship, im crying

Your relationship is the most talked about among everyone,  the it couple from sinaloa,,,

he’s so hopelessly in love with you,,, his heart would just melt when you simply tell him you love him-

like, there is never a moment where you two are mad at each other, you’re always seen smiling and giving each other the biggest heart eyes anyone has ever witnessed- i cant,

Wherever Hector needs to make an appearance, like at a party, he’s arriving with you because there’s no Güero Palma without you-

his forehead kisses are the best

would give you them before he has to go talk business with a socio at a party and leave you with chapo or cochi

It makes him comfortable to leave you with them because he knows they’ll protect you with their lives if they have to-

“Ahorita regreso, mi cielo, si ocupas algo, avisale a Chapo, eh? No me tardo”

I cant, the way he softly speaks to you is everything,,,

 he also probably looks over every 5 minutes to make sure you’re doing alright without him,,,

He’s always holding your hand - im crying

He’ll intertwine your hands and bring them to his lips to kiss your hand-

Or he’ll bring your intertwined hands to his chest, over his heart and caress your face with the other hand,,,

“este corazon es solo de ti, mi amor”  i-

ok I keep thinking about the way Güerito would look at you at all times, everyday,,

The lovesick puppy look is everything,-

He could also talk about you for hours because holy shit do you have him tied down-

, nothing makes him smile brighter than seeing you get along with Chapo and Cochi, even though they tend to endlessly tease the both of you-

“Bueno, cuando piensan ustedes hacer chiquito güeritos y güeritas, pues? Pinche, Chapito ya quiere ser un padrino”-

The little look Güero throws at you when you blush and smile up at him after Cochi said that-

Honestly, Cochi and Chapo would probably be so escandalosos the day you announce your pregnancy, i-

The sinaloa family grows :))

I just know, Hector has a framed photo of you two on his desk🥺,,,

He’ll just stare at your face when he’s beginning to stress out and remind himself that he’s doing it for you,, so he can keep you happy-

My heart--, Hector gives me hardcore old school vibes, like even though you’re married, he’s always giving you the biggest bouquet of roses he can find before every. single. date.

The tiny little smile he has as he stands there when he sees your eyes light up-

“Para ti mi amor, te los escogí yo mismo” fuck 

, When he takes you out to eat, he’s holding your hand from across the table, running his thumb over your knuckles-

, this man is giving you his undivided attention when you talk and giving you the most adoring smile, im dying-

ok Güero would totally be the one to take you to a “mini” date after your date

Like, he’ll take you to the neveria or even buy you 6 different antojitos for you to share with him -im sobbing

I cant even imagine how his heart would literally break whenever he sees you upset, automatically thinking what he did wrong to make you sad :(

“Mi cielo, que paso? No llores, dime, que hice” I- :(((

just the way he holds you and lets you cry into him-

ohh,, if someone hurted you, he would personally  shoot up all of sinaloa if he has to in order to make you feel safe again-

He would go through hell and back just to make it up to you and see you smile,,,,

He also definitely tries his best to shield you from the business, but he can’t help but rant to you about everything that goes on

, I feel like he’ll rant to you about the time Chapo suggested his tunnel idea and hector is just over here rambling about how tf he’s going to find another way through tijuana

Its not until you speak up about maybe considering chapo’s idea, like you mention something about “por lo que me dices, no se van dar cuenta los de tijuana, mucho menos porque nadie piensa buscar abajo de tierra, hector”

Güero just pauses and looks at you, because??? You just said it so nonchalantly and made the idea make sense to him? all while making champurrado like the queen you are-

“Intelligente, mi preciosa, verdad?” as he comes up to you and tilts your face to kiss you,,

ooh the two of you making food together has my heart dying,-

domestic-hector can have my whole fucking soul,,

SoftCuddles in the morning and before bed, he would pull you on top of him and give you so many kisses on your face, your happy laughter just makes him so weak, I-

NSFW:

alright right off the bat, this man loves receiving blowjobs from you, like not only because it lowers his stress levels, but also just the way you look,, makes him hard,

when your on your knees for him, your mouth filled with his cock, and the sounds that fill up the room,,i - he has that view ingrained into his memory,,

cada vez que se encabrone, your already unbuckling his pants to help him relax in his chair at his office-

he’ll stare as you go down on him, letting out a deep low groans,-

“Un pinche angel que dios me mando, verdad mi cielo?”

as he holds the side of your face, slowly thrusting into your mouth-ok

this is going to lead into office sex, im sorry im not making the rules here

it just excites him having you lay on his workspace, gripping the desk and biting your lips to keep quiet as he pounds into you,

“no hagas ruido mi amor, yo se que puedes aguantar”

the one thing he hates about office sex tho is having to be quick because he doesn’t want to risk someone finding you naked on his desk with his cock inside of you-  

and yet, you two are so good at hiding any noises that could lead to suspicion he’s banging you in his office,, 

but he’s literally so shit at hiding the evidence, like, his hair and outfit are so out of place, there’s a fresh hickey on his neck and your panties were left on the floor,,

“Güero, no chingues, son las nueve de la mañana, cabron, no te podrías esperar?”

Cochi and Chapo would give him so much shit, pero le vale

ok at home though, i feel like Güero is a mix of desperate and slow, like he’ll desperately smother you in kisses, wanting to get you out of your clothes as soon as possible,,

But once he has you laid out on the bed, he’s slowing down, taking his time, worshiping you 

He needs to make you feel good before he can even think about himself,, you can fight me if you don’t think this man loves going down on you

es apasionado el cabron, he’s looking up at you while he’s in between your thighs, probably has his hands wandering up your body as you cry out for him, letting you move your hips on his face -dammit

the way he’ll kiss your inner thighs when he’s done, i-

ok my soft bby needs to see your face when you have sex, he admires the way you respond to his thrusts-

i know hector would lay his forehead on yours, cooing how good youre being for him as he gently holds your face and do those slow but rough thrusts-

or he’ll plant one of his hands on your stomach, pounding into you,  thinking about how beautiful you would look swole this his kid, im sorry

dont look at me, that is one of his many goals ok, quiere una familia, he goes rock hard just thinking about knocking you up-

 alright, can you imagine surprising him when he comes home after a long day to see you wearing lingerie, his mind just goes blank when he sees you walk up to him

“no estoy muerto, verdad?”

his hands are automatically holding your waist as you laugh up to him, pulling him along to your bedroom,,

“no, nomas queria recordarte cuanto te amo” ,- ohh

ok-i laugh at this scenario,, but, Cochi probably teases güero non stop when he’s mad and yells at his workers

like, he’ll wander up to güero who’s fuming, a death glare in his eyes and cochi  just smugly saying,

“Quieres que llamo tu mujer para que te pueda chupar a la verga?”

Güero just throws him an annoyed look, like are you being fr right now? “Callate, pendejo”

but the next day he arrives with like 15 orders of tacos for everyone with a smile and Chapo would probably be the next to call him out,,

“Que Güero, tuvistes una buena noche? Le dices a tu mujer que gracias de parte de todos aqui” ,,,

guero wouldnt even be mad at that point, probably gives them a little smile because el si tiene mujer que lo cuida-

god, riding güero, sign me tf up

this is where he’ll help you tear your clothes off on top of him and give you deep kisses that leave you breathless, helping you grind on him

he’ll wrap his arms around you and deeply thrust into you with no warning, making you throw your head back

kissing your neck as he feels you try to vigorously bounce on him, while you run your hands through his hair,,

His hands would be everywhere, one minute their grasping your ass the next he has them running all over back,,

fuck, when he grips your hips to hold you still on top of him as he roughly thrusts into you,,i-

GraBbinG his necklace, like tangling it in between your hands to tightly grasp something when he makes you shout his name- wow

[manatehispants]

Entertain Me!

“Okay. You can stop now. Like right now.”

Harley kept her arms wrapped tightly around Floyd who despite his words was doing very little to actually make her stop. The wild card blonde acted like she didn’t hear a word the assassin said. She continued to rub her pale skinned face against his cheek like an affectionate cat who had just got done hitting the cat nip. Lawton rolled his eyes. He gave it two more minutes before he attempted another protest.

“I ain’t playing around, Harley. Let go or I’mma shot you right in the face. Last warning about this.”

This time he did try to push her away from him although there was no real force to it. He’d never say it out loud, but he liked the crazy jester. Somewhere along the line she had become meaningful to him. Harley knew it too. She knew Deadshot wasn’t going to ever say he liked her let alone cared for her, but his actions showed it in his own way. And this time it wasn’t all in her head either like it had been with Joker. Nope! This was real. Harley faked a pout, but finally she disentangle herself from the man. She leaned back on the hotel couch laying her head onto Deadshot’s shot and swinging her legs over the other side. Her platinum blonde pigtails dangled just off of Lawton’s lap. He let out a small grunt and wondered why she always did that with such force. He also wondered for the zillionth time why she stuck around him. Was she really so fucked up from her time with Joker that she thought Lawton was as good as it got? He glanced down at Harley, a cigarette dangling from his lips. His heart quickened when his eyes locked onto her’s. They were full of something he knew he didn’t deserve, love and adoration. Laughing Harley winked at him almost as if she knew what he was thinking. Maybe she did. Maybe she knew far more than Lawton credited her for.

“We should go see that Taylor Swift concert the one that is in town tomorrow! I have the perfect outfit! Oh! We could get matching outfits! It will be so fun! I’ll post all the pictures up on Instagram! Eat your heart out Bats and Robin, there’s a new dynamic duo in town!”

Where the Hell had this damn idea come from!? Lawton pinched the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes. Nope! He didn’t even want to get into that aspect of it with her. It would only give him a headache.

“We ain’t doing that. I told you already I am in town for work. That’s it. And never ever compare us to Batman and his kid sidekick again. Better don’t pretend there is an us cause there ain’t.”

“But I am bored. Come on. Entertain me! Pretty, pretty, please? With a big fat cherry on top? Oh! And sprinkles. We can’t forget those. Great! Now I want ice cream.”

Pouting again Harley sat back up and leaned herself onto the assassin’s muscular body. She ran one hand down his chest her hand stopping to rest on his stomach. Floyd’s body reacted by tensing. It usually wasn’t good when someone touched him in such a vulnerable spot. As much as he wanted to trust Harley.....She was still crazy and crazy people do well, crazy things. He forced himself to relax by inhaling deeply onto his cigarette. He leaned his head back and stared at the ceiling as he let out a perfect ring of grey-blue smoke. He watched as it slowly rose up. One more was blown out before he bothered to answered her.

“Nobody asked you asked you to stalk me out and break into the hotel room. Which you still haven’t explained why you did.”

He should be pissed with her for that, but he wasn’t. He was actually sort of glad she was her or at least he was when she was making off the wall comments and crushing his balls with her head. Really who the Hell “rested” their head down with that much force? Harley’s darkly painted lips vibrated together as she waved off Lawton’s words.

“Stalking and breaking in are such strong words ta’ be throwin’ around! What I did is more like enthusiastic followin’ against ya wishes with a surprise stop by!”

Floyd gave Joker’s ex girlfriend a blank stare. Harley rolled her eyes and dramatically collapsed herself onto his shoulder. Locks of her shocking blond hair pouring onto him. Like he had done so many times today he again rolled his eyes at her giving off the impression of being put out by this. But both knew the truth, he loved it. He liked having someone in his life who was crazy enough to not only accept all parts of who he was, but to embrace them. Unlike others, Harley understood what the dangers of his work entailed. Sure she liked playing house, but she wasn’t going to force Deadshot to be someone he was not. Just as he would never change her into someone she wasn’t. He didn’t write her off as by product of Joker or see her as a tragic warning story about loving the wrong man. When he looked at Harley that’s what he was looking at.....Harley. There was so few in her life who did this. Sure, there was Ivy and Harley loved the woman to death. But with Ivy it wasn’t that simple. Ivy meant well, but she always wanted to fix Harley. She wanted to take Joker and all parts of him away from her. She didn’t understand that no matter the Clown Prince of Crime would forever be a part of Harley. To be with Ivy meant she would have to give up part of herself, and selfishly Harley wasn’t willing to do that. Maybe there would come a day when she could, but right now she couldn’t. She couldn’t be whatever it was others wanted her to be. She needed a chance to be her own person. Free of Joker, free of being named a sidekick. Ivy always said and did treat her as an equal. This was true, but with Ivy everyone still viewed Harley as a sidekick. They saw Ivy as her Joker replacement. The Harlequin of Love buried her face against Floyd’s shoulder. It was so very child like that for a moment Lawton thought of his daughter.

Outside Harley that was the only person who truly cared for him and who he too cared for. She was why he continued down this path. She was why he would never retire from this work. It was her face that haunted his mind any time he considered turning his gun his next target and onto himself. Lawton finished the last drag of his cancer causing stick and tossed the bud to the floor. Suddenly his heart ached for the one he could never be near and for the life he discovered he would never be able to have. Carefully as if she was made from glass Floyd touched the back Harley’s head. Smiling against his shoulder the wild card nuzzled his shoulder and then looked up at him. God damn her and the things she made him feel. He didn’t want to feel anything! Right now he only wanted the world to be shut out. Maybe he could get to help with that. He cupped Quinn’s face in the palm of one hand, and like clockwork she did as was expected. She understood what was happening. Floy was connecting with her the only way he knew how to be affectionate with another person through sex. She leaned her face into his hand nuzzling against. Her perfectly painted lips laid a soft kiss against his palm. Moving his hand so that part of his palm was now under the infamous bombshell’s chin, Lawton tilted her head up to him and leaned forward kissing her upon the lips. His free arm went around her slender frame pulling her near him. Instantly Harley had both her arms wrapped around him. She needed this as badly as he did. Her body melted against his and her lips felt perfectly at him on his. The taste of cheap beer and cigarettes danced onto her taste buds as she deepened their kiss, pushing him for more.

Almost roughly he tugged her closer now to him. His tongue dipping into her welcoming mouth. Exploring every inch of it as if it was there first time together. Her mouth was sweet. She tasted of cotton cotton candy and cherries.....A mask of innocence. It was as intoxicating as the liquor he had been drinking away all night. Her love is a crazy deadly one and in the end Lawton knows she’s going to fuck him over somehow. She always did, but she also always came back to him. Joker will come calling or someone more attractive will show themselves to her, but for moment in time she belongs to him. It’s thrilling and he’s always been a sucker for a head rush. The jester’s tongue dances into his mouth and soon their tongues entangled with another fighting for dominance. The soft moan that escaped her was quickly making Floyd realize his pants were far too tightly. He pulls his mouth away off her’s. Quinn is staring at him her sapphire eyes clouded with lust. Harley runs her black painted nails down his back and Lawton feels his desire for her.....For what comes next growing. A shiver of pain mixed with pleasure goes down his entire spine.

“Ya gunna be my Prince Charming, sweep me off my feet and take me ta’ bed now or not?”

He shouldn’t do it. Harley shouldn’t be encouraged. He’s going to get burned by her. It’s only a matter time. But fuck it, you’re only going to live once, right? Or that’s what he keeps hearing. He might as well get his rocks off while he still can. He swoops the ex gymnast expert up off the couch and into his arms. Instantly her arms around looped around his neck. Her lips are crashing into his in what will surely be a bruising kiss for the both of them. Not that either care. The small sting of it only adds to the pleasure they are both becoming overwhelmed with as Lawton carries Gotham’s infamous wild card to bed. Tomorrow he has a job that needs to be done. Tomorrow he will be back to being the professional he prides himself on when it comes to work. Tomorrow Harley will be off on yet another on of her crazy adventures proving herself to the word, but mostly proving to herself she can be a solo act. But that’s all stuff of the future. For now the two are more than a little content for what the presence holds for them between the sheets. They will make the most of the night and for awhile neither will worry about that aching loneliness that eats away at them.

[skonkania]

— softly

story: open heart

pairing: bryce lahela x mc ( vera onruang )

word count: 1.6k

notes: vera kinda just hates her birthday and just wants to cry all day

summary: didn't mean to get so close and i know that i should probably go.

As she looks in the mirror, Vera does the math in her head. If she spent 26 years in North Carolina then another 2 years working her way to be a resident at Edenbrook; how much time does she have left? It’s a loaded question but she knows that the average human residing in the United States lives upward to 78 years and she’s turning 28 this year.

28 years old, just 50 more birthdays she never wants to celebrate. 50 more years to put her name on this Earth. (Even though she knows there’s a possibility that she’ll develop some life-debilitating disease once she reaches her sixties.) Yet, here she is; wasting another day just to celebrate something she’s come to loathe.

She told Sienna she didn’t want a party with all the seriousness she could muster after a 17-hour shift with only 30 minutes to rest. But the peppy girl must’ve assumed this was some reverse psychology shit or something because Jackie told her to get ready for tonight. She rolled her eyes and went to change out of vomit stained coat.

It’s September 30th and sometimes she wishes her friends weren’t so nice.

There’s too many numbers floating around in her head, too many variables to fill over how this night will inevitably end, and so much more to worry about than just a simple party. Her eyes stare at her lips through the reflection, trying out different grins with a lidded expression. A toothy one seems fine, she decides and leaves the sanctuary of her room.

Her senses are already overwhelmed as she enters the hallway, a thick thump following every step she takes on hardwood floors. Counting how many seconds it takes for her to reach the archway between the hallway and the living room and how many seconds it takes for her to brush past people before she can reach their kitchen island that’s overflowing with unattended drinks. Some of them have names, some of them don’t, but she’ll have to clean them up anyway.

She hasn’t even seen her friends, they baked (more like Sienna did) with 32 candles on it and her name messily scrawled with frosting. It was red velvet, her favorite, but she never had an appetite when it came to this day. She needs a distraction, something pushing back thoughts of home and she doesn’t really feel like tequila will cut it.

Yet, soon enough, a chaste kiss is pressed to her cheek, a smile already blooming onto her features as she’s assured with who it is. Bryce always liked to show up to these things as a showoff and a people person, challenging her to something before he stayed to clean up as an excuse to sleep over. But he’s been busy with Keiki and she’s somehow in charge of making sure the diagnostic team doesn’t shut down because of Ethan’s unmoving morals.

Although, that’s too heavy to speak about, so she starts off with something light. Something to tease him with, something she can distract herself with.

“Leave little Lahela with a sitter?”

“No,” he stops on the other end of the island, concern flashing in his features. “was I supposed to?”

“She’s fifteen, I used just leave pizza rolls and juice out whenever my—” she pauses and tucks her lips under her teeth, it’s not time yet. “my cousins stopped by. We’re not qualified guardians.”

They’re not and it’s why she left home, it’s why she thinks birthdays are lonely even with mountains of bodies crowded in a single room and why red velvet is a good cake flavor but a shitty one for a birthday. She ignores her critiques and focuses back on Bryce, eyes shining as she returns his mischievous grin.

“We’re not, but we are qualified to party.”

“I hate how cheesy you are.”

“You don’t hate anything about me. Anyways, you ready for a Bryce special?” he asks while she watches him pluck out differing types of alcohol. Most noticeably, some peach-colored liquid that she doesn’t even remember purchasing.

Maybe when Sienna went out with Elijah, they like getting stuff that looks pretty. Although it pretty much always tastes like shit.

She snorts at the name, relying on his part to play the narcissist of their relationship. “You mean that awful shit where you put margarita mix, rum, and vodka?”

He pulls a solo cup from the stack and starts mixing flavors that his abomination should be considered something close to a biohazard. He seems unphased at the prospect of mixing of rum and Jackie’s jungle juice. “It’s not awful shit, not when it comes from me.”

“That claim is arguable with everything you do except surgery.”

“Aw, I thought you liked the way my fingers feel.” He moves away from the brown-greenish color starting to form in her drink to wiggle his fingers at her. Taking this as a moment to slide in close as if she’ll fluster under his gaze like some sheltered naive girl. He should know better by now, “You don’t complain during your lunch breaks anyway.”

“Pushing your luck, Lahela.” and she shoves him away with a grin, hands resting on his biceps. “You’re insufferable, completely insufferable.”

“Only with you.”

And he hands her the cup, taking it into her grasp to see the now mauve liquid clash against white colored plastic. It’s disgusting, she knows it will taste bitter against her tongue but she goes through with it. Just to see him smile, bringing him joy just to see her squirm.

She seems to ignore the crowd of bodies bustling around her living room and kitchen, eyes only trailing across his face. He’s perpetually calm with no wrinkles in his forehead from frowning too much or concerning himself with petty matters. At peace with what he does at whatever given time, and sometimes she wishes she could pass some of her burdens onto him.

It’s a cruel thought, but one he’d comply to is she asked. He’d do anything she asked.

“Now, I know you love a good old-fashioned shindig here.” a bit of Bryce’s homemade biochemical disaster spills on her jeans but she doesn’t mind the slightly unpleasant feeling. “But why’d you come?”

There’s a moment where he doesn’t answer, maybe a little unsure of the answer he has prepared. It’s not even a bullshit question where she’ll get unreasonably pissed at him no matter the outcome, she’s just curious of his intentions.

And after the small silence, he answers. “Because I know you, and I know you’d be miserable if I left you alone.”

Hmm, he knows me. Yet, he’s still right about that much despite the cynical tone her inner monologue uses. Taking another sip from her cup and relishing the bitter taste that invades her mouth.

“You didn’t seem like you were in a birthday spirit, even when I came around.”

She shrugs in response, unable to process the aching that comes with this day. A void in her chest she can never tear out, that this day simply feels like something for her to waste rather than commemorate. “I just wanted to stay in my room, maybe even crash at someone else’s place. This day stopped feeling like something to celebrate when I was 13.”

There are far better things to do on September 30th than recognize she’s finally 28. It’s all inconsequential from a objective point of view.

“Is that your birthday wish?” she nods and slouches on the stool, barely noticing how he has grabbed ahold of her palm and has brought it up to his lips. Always so affectionate when he can’t seem to find words to say. “Then let’s go, we can stay in your room until they call us back.”

She doesn’t argue like she usually does, and doesn’t insist on the fact that someone will notice she’s missing from her own party. Instead, she lets Bryce lightly grasp her elbow as he leads her away from the bustle of people having more fun of this night than she ever will. Letting out mumbled apologies to those she inadvertently brushes by but all her thoughts are jumbled together that only created an array of distress.

None of them even speak as they enter the dim hallway that leads to multiple rooms, hers at the far end of the hall. Vera makes no snarky comment as they enter of the bedroom and Bryce is at a loss for smart ass quips once he lays her down at the mattress. Their shoes clatter against hardwood as they nestle against her ivory white comforter, catching each others’ gazes once they settle.

He’s so ethereal bathed in whatever moonlight peeks through her curtains and now she is at a lost for words.

“Hi,” he whispers as she brushes back a lock of stray hair from her eyes.

She cups his cheek, “Hey.”

They break from their little moment, laughing at the intimacy that has spurred on from nothing but simply admiring one another. A grin grows on her features as she inches closer to him and lazily wraps an arm around his waist, he follows after her movement without a second thought. Enraptured, she thinks at first before looking back into his brown eyes filled with an unplaced warmth, I am enraptured with him.

In the comfort of his stare, she’s already forgotten about the party thrown just for her happened just outside her hallways and she laughs. Bursting with unexpected amusement at the whole situation and muttering her next words through a smile. “You’re insufferable. God, completely and utterly insufferable.”

And he returns her grin, some laughs breaking through his serene expression. “So are you.”

She tilts her head up, lightly lifting herself up from the bed just to press her lips to his forehead, chin, left cheek, and then the right cheek. Avoiding everything except his lips until she leans in and feels nothing but tight-lipped grins simply pressing against one another. Unbridled happiness he’s brought on a miserable day, combing through his hair as her head rests against the pillow.

“Guess we have to stick together then.”

[wrathfulspark]

@xreznikovx

As Elidi turned in her arms Tamryn stopped short in order to not knock them both off balance. Her eyes scanned over the witch’s face fondly as she spoke, lingering upon her lips as she said the words be alone though her gaze was lifted to meet her partner’s gaze when she felt Elidi’s hand cup her cheek. While making eye contact she leaned her head into her lover’s palm affectionately yet the look on her face turned to stern when the witch spoke of no longer wanting to tell her for not wanting to ruin the moment. The she wolf gave her a look and leaned her head back some as she arched a brow,

“You think of it as ruining moments, I call it deepening them. If what I told you could not ruin that moment, then I don’t think anything will ruin this one. However you can be selfish for as long as you want with me, I am patient when it comes to you. Specially in this moment.”

Feeling Elidi rest her forehead against her own the Alpha tightened her hold to bring them closer together. Her eyes intently focused on the witch’s face as she lingered in the moment with her for as long as was needed. Remaining silent she watched with that typical wolf like nature about herself as she let Elidi break the embrace and lead her onward. She kept her focus on the woman who held her affections entirely the fact she was willingly letting Elidi lead her by the hand was a sign the dominant Alpha placed the witch above most others. She rarely let someone take any sort of lead over her, yet with Elidi she was more than willing to trailed along through the night.

 Being pulled from her thoughts of how Elidi looked leading her by the hand the wolf met her partner’s gaze and furrowed her brow upon hearing the quick spoken apology. Before she could react or question she was pulled in and transported elsewhere.

 Once the reached the location Tamryn’s normally regal stance faltered as she felt the alcohol and the teleportation spell clash with one another in her being. Once she gained her barrings and realized the familiar scent of Elidi’s home the she wolf regained what composure she could though she was feeling the bottle she drank a lot harder now. Following in step with the witch Tamryn slumped back onto the swing with her, her yellow hues glowing in the darkness as she lost the ability to control that aspect upon the disorienting feeling of the spell mixed with her own intoxication. She turned her torso to face Elidi on the swing before she shook her head somewhat,

 “No, it was fine, and its charming that you felt that place was not up to my standards. I prefer this setting in honesty, It smells like you and the things you like which is far more appealing than the scents that bar and its outside area accumulated.”

As the gazed at one another the she wolf let out an affection whine before moving closer to the dark haired woman by her side. She remained focused on Elidi as she sat back and began to speak, as the witch spoke of her past Tamryn could picture her in her rookie years, a fond smirk formed to her lips as she listened, picturing how cute Elidi probably looked in a uniform though she fully appreciated the way the woman dressed for her line of work now. It was still a tempting thought to have in her silent admiration.

 Her fond smile faded to a serious expression as the story took a darker tone, Tamryn sat upright a bit upon hearing how injured she had gotten, though she didn’t get defensive, she had no right to be in that moment given she didn't even know Elidi then. Still the red head listened with interest and concern upon her defined and drunken features. She kept silent as she usually did when it came to Elidi telling her about her own history. It captivated the she wolf to be told such deep parts of the woman's past, parts she knew were not shared with others given the witch’s personality of not being so forthcoming when it came to her past and herself in general. It was one of the many reasons Tamryn valued their relationship. It brought them both to a levels they shared rarely with anyone else.

When Elidi seemed to reach the end of her story Tamryn took it all in for a moment, just as she was going to speak her hand was lifted to the back of her lover’s neck. Her focused gaze dropped to where her fingertips touched, she remained in her silence until Elidi seemed to turn away upon mentioning that her eyes used to be brown. The  Alpha glared softly at her and tilted her head, again about to interject before she was silenced once more with a kiss. Exhaling softly into the kiss she gripped the sides of Elidi’s face and pulled her deeper into the kiss as if to make a silent statement before letting her pull back to speak, letting  her head fall back against the swing she growled softly in protest,

 “You do not ruin our moment   mon chéri, we are too headstrong for things such as this to ruin any moment we find ourselves in because what we feel is stronger than whatever it is we’ve gone through in the past. I love your eyes as they are now. When they glow and how intensely blue they are naturally. What happened to you is not something to be ashamed of, you were given great power, sometimes with that comes great sacrifices.”

She sat up once more and reached up to brush her thumb fondly over Elidi’s eyebrow scar as she let her eyes scanned over her lover’s face before locking with her gaze affectionately,

“Your scars, all of them are gorgeous to me. They make you the woman you are today and I am extremely in awe of that woman. I always appreciate what you tell me and no one else. I value you Eli, for everything you are and stand for. There is close to nothing you could do or say at this point that would sway my interests or affections for you. Telling me these things only makes me fall deeper into whatever this is we are creating together.”

Soothed by the tender words spoken by Tamryn, the regret departs noticeably from incadescent hues. The corners of her lips rose impassioned by the redhead, adoration reflecting strongly across her features. A light breeze tossled their hair accompanied by the faint smell of rain, a telling sign of her blithesome spirit. Her hand moved to stroke along Tamryn's cheek, digits stroking underneath her chin before softly speaking, "Misericordia, amor? Mi corazón solo puede soportar tanto."

Elidi stood from the wooden bench, her fingers entangled with the alphas as she coarsed her into standing. "I hope it doesn't frighten you when I say, I hope we are creating something everlasting." Temperant lips pressed to the fair skin along Tamryn's temple. "I know we both have skeletons in the closets but you are right. I don't think there is anything you could utter that would sway my feelings at this point. One in the same. I'm relieved to hear the same sentiments from you." Elidi wavered, bright optics searching the other women's gaze, desiring to convey her emotions properly. "With that being said, I am a formidable opponent now, least to those I find reprehensible. Beside all my competency, I will use the best of my judgment to keep us both out of harms way." She raised their intertwined hands to her mouth, pressing a kiss along Tamryns's knuckles. "You have my word, Querida."

Appeased by her own response, Elidi guided Tamryn to the backdoor before leading her in the living room. Warm lights switched on once they entered the witches home, candles dimly lighting. The house seemingly came to life as its owner returned. Once Tamryn took a seat, Elidi excused herself from the alpha, heading into her bedroom.

Alone in her room, the witch approached her dresser, sliding the top drawer open. Inside the chest lies two black boxes atop her folded garments. There isn't a second of hesitation as she reaches to grab them both, switching the lights off as she exits the bedroom.

Faced with the alpha perched upon her couch, a smile stretched across pinkened petals, swayed by the sight of the redhead bathed in the orange glow of the candles. Least she get distracted, Elidi closed the gap between the two women, sitting on her knees adjacent to Tamryn on the couch.

The lid is opened to one of the boxes, grateful she grabbed the correct bracelet as she turns the item over for Tamryn to see. The piece of jewelry is near gold in color, wire wrapped with a single crystal embedded in the center. Underneath the clasp is hidden inside an intricately fashioned rose. "This is your bracelet." Elidi began simply, wetting her lips suddenly nervous with the act, "I've enchanted it with the very best of my abilities, and soaked it in crystal infused waters to seal in my magical properties."

Removing the bracelet from its container she held it openly in her palm. "I've designed it so we may secretly alert one another if we are in danger or not. The feat is unintentional, so if you don't wish me to know your true emotions, I wouldn't adorn it. It will track your heart rate even, knowledgeable of when pain is inflicted upon you, to signal me, and I'll come find you." Her gaze rises from her palm to meet Tamryns, "To inform you, the bracelet will warm up. The hotter it is, the higher the danger or pain is. It should not burn you, if it does I will alter it."

An unsettled blush dusted across her cheeks, hues averting from the redhead. Hopefully Tamryn would be pleased with her gift, an offering to secure their bond even further. Certainly a high amount of effort was placed into creating it, recollections of burning her fingers pass her mind, recalling when she drew the opposite properties of the black cohosh out. Her favorite part in creation had been the infusement, selecting an assortment of crystals and herbs was always exciting, bountiful with the options she owns.

She found herself stammering, causing her skin to redden further, "T-the crystal is Kyanite, a popular stone in protection and I thought it fitting, seeing as the colors seem to reflect our own." She spoke softly now, eyes focused on the gemstone in her hold. A blue stone with flecks of orange mingled amongst the cool color. "Additionally no soul can remove it from your body, that is a power belonging only to you, and if somehow the spell is broken, my own crystal will shatter."

Blushing still, Elidi met Tamryn's gaze, her expression unusually demure. "As long as I'm alive Red, the spell will remain in tact just as well."

[maplefiasco]

All of the Fire I've Swallowed

Holy crap, I actually kinda finished something. And have it ready to go for Scoundress Saturday and everything! Title comes from “Take Me To War” by The Crane Wives

Han/Leia. Rated T. Pre-ESB. Three times Leia took something she wanted.

(Posted below, or if you prefer, you can read it on AO3 or on FF.N)

The first time she kisses Han is a mistake. Yet another in a long line of bad impulses she seems to have around him.

Their mission had been quick and simple, just her, Han, and Chewie picking up a shipment of medical supplies. But it was still a surprise when it turned out to be one of those rare missions that go smoothly. No unexpected Imperial checkpoints to shoot their way out of; no bounty hunters ambushing them at some key moment.

It's just so damn rare to get a win these days. When they actually do, it feels like the whole galaxy is hers to conquer, shape, do with as she sees fit. Today, a couple crates of bacta. Tomorrow, the galaxy.

Chewie's busy in the cockpit, so it's just the two of them in the main hold, both flush with adrenaline and a strange light giddiness. Han had even hugged her after the jump to lightspeed. Even more alarming, she had hugged him back. And now, watching him re-scan the cases for tracking devices (can't be too careful, sweetheart), she tries to remember why it is she goes to so much effort to avoid him, keep him at a distance.

If Leia is being truly honest with herself, which she usually is. Though not on this subject. On the subject of Han, she is coy and elusive with herself, watching herself from a safe distance with a silent smirk most of the time. But for this one brief moment, she allows herself to be open to the possibility of admitting to herself that maybe, possibly, theoretically... kissing Han Solo is the kind of thing she wants to do.

And why not, this new carefree and confident voice in her head asks. If she wants to kiss him, she can. It doesn't have to change anything or ruin her life or break her heart. Like any other mission, she can have an objective, achieve it, and then get out before it gets dangerous. Not everything in her life has to feel like the end of the galaxy. Or maybe it should, given her particular lifestyle these days, in which case she should seize every moment, right? Either way. This feels like a moment. An everything-is-good-and-also-maybe-there's-no-tomorrow moment.

Han is oblivious to her epiphany and how it will shortly affect his mouth. He gives her a good-natured wink and turns off the scanner. We're officially not being tracked. Told ya you were being paranoid as if it hadn't been his idea to do the second scan. Propelled by lingering adrenaline and newfound resolve, she takes a step to close the space between them and kisses him. Whatever she lacks in buildup or seduction, she thinks she makes up for with straightforward enthusiasm.

(Once, when she had been nine or ten, young, but old enough, she had joined her parents on a tour of Isata, a continent far from Aldera and its vibrant hustle. Every day that summer, they visited farms and villages, posed for holos with the locals that would later be broadcast across the planet. It was the first time in her young life Leia had felt on display. Commodified. Today the royal family saw the largest auberal harvested on all of Alderaan. Why it's a few inches taller than our little princess. Up next, your weekend weather forecast.

They had been touring yet another a village, stopping to meet the owner of a frozen joral cream shop. The midsummer sun had hung high and oppressively bright. Leia's elaborate braids had been damp and heavy against her neck with sweat, the hairpins jabbing her scalp every time she moved. The shop owner had offered her a joral cream, any flavor. It would be my honor to serve our sweet princess something as sweet as she. Just name your flavor, your highness.

She had been trained for this. Repeatedly. She knew her line by heart. Thank you, but I could only enjoy it if you give it to a child in more need than me. All summer she had parroted her script and curtsied to Isata's finest confectioners, toy makers, and bakers. What generosity! How compassionate and unselfish the princess is! And then she watched them pull their temptations out of her reach. She hadn't minded, mostly. The affectionate pat on her head from her father was a reward in itself.

But that day, the sun, the constant pressure of being on, all of it, had bested her. She had stood there, boiling in her dress's heavy puddle of fabric. Across the shop sat a girl about her age. Her bright hair swept back in a loose braid, her simple dress breezy on her skinny limbs. She was barely paying attention the royal procession in front of her, so enraptured in her half-melted joral cream. Leia had watched her devour the frozen treat with envy, how she caught the stray drips of melted juice before they could trickle down the cream's flimsy stick and onto her tight fist. Her lips were stained purple, and when she slurped on the cream it echoed all the way across the shop, each a satisfied pop of tangy, cool fruit that Leia could feel on the back of her stale tongue.

At that moment she had so longed to be that girl. Why could she, princess and therefore (as she understood it at the time) most important girl on all of Alderaan, not be as free and natural as the next village girl. She felt her parents' keen eyes on her, waiting to hear her well-rehearsed line. But wasn't she just as hot and hungry as any other girl? The day was already so long, and yet so far from over. Didn't she need a respite as much as anyone else? Why couldn't she, just once, have the simple pleasures that everyone else got to have? The sudden longing and unfairness of it all overrode her royal training. Starblossom flavor, please!

Her mother had laughed and smiled her most diplomatic royal smile, the one that didn't entirely reach her eyes if you really paid attention, thanked the shop owner profusely when he stretched across the counter to bestow Leia with the stick of sweet frozen cream. But when she met her mother's eyes, she knew she'd pay for this defiance later; a stern speech about how one behaves and what one represents that will undoubtedly go on for too long, stirring in her equal parts guilt and boredom. But at that moment, it had only made the joral cream taste all the sweeter.)

So yeah, she kisses Han. And for a single, endless moment she tastes icy sweet starblossom.

The moment after that one, however, is flooded with cold reality. The rational part of her mind, having finally wrestled control back from her giddy idiot brain, went into overdrive. Every very real, very logical reason why this is a very bad idea hits her all at once. A wave of electric panic shoots up her spine, the tang of fruit and summer replaced with ash in the back of her throat. Already cringing, she opens her eyes.

He's standing perfectly still, eyes wide in surprise. This close she can watch the color in them change, from bright green to dark gold, literally watch his mind process what's happening while his face catches up.

The panic takes a quick jaunt through her entire body before settling in the pit of her stomach. Kriff damn hells.

She pulls back stiffly, the way one is supposed to back away from a feral sabercat if they cross paths with one in the wild. Maintain eye contact and don't show weakness. His lips curve up in something between a smug grin and a surprised O. She'll never hear the end of this.

Maybe if she looks aggrieved enough, she can act like what just happened didn't actually happen. Maybe she tripped. Maybe his kriffing ship bucked and bounced her mouth onto his mouth. Because that happens, right. Maybe–

He's full-on grinning now, so no luck there. "Why, Princess–"

"Shut up." Not her most diplomatic tactic, but her mind's blanking on anything more articulate.

"I haven't even said anything yet!"

"Well don't!"

"Hold on, you're the one who just kissed m–"

"No, I didn't, so don't even start." She stomps to the crew quarters and spends the rest of the trip working, definitely not just reading the same page over and over and avoiding him.

This seems to do the trick, because when they land and she finally emerges, he's carrying cargo down the Falcon's ramp, only nodding when he passes her. It's an offhanded, same-shit-as-always kind of nod. Nothing that would indicate that he now knows the taste of her lipgloss or the smell of her hair, which he almost certainly must.

He doesn't say anything and obviously she doesn't say anything. After a while, it's almost enough that she can convince herself it didn't actually happen.

The second time she kisses him, however, he's ready for her.

Remembrance Day was as good an excuse as any for the entire base to celebrate and let off some steam. Some low-grade cabin fever had been making the rounds at Echo Base; the remote location making everyone itch with isolation and anxiety. Why not bring out a few cases of alcohol and let the base run wild for a night. Shake off the nervous energy.

It's noisy and chaotic, the base a barely controlled riot of merrymaking. But in that good way that makes Leia's heart ache. Enthusiasm and camaraderie and everyone here, brought together by a shared mix of fierce dedication and naiveté to believe they can change the course of the galaxy all by themselves.

She's tipsy, not drunk, for the record, because royalty doesn't get shit-faced. A small crowd has ended up in the main briefing chamber. Not completely separate from the partying out in the hall, but adjacent to it.

By day, she's Commander Organa, down in the front of this chamber, presenting intel and passing out mission assignments like some school teacher of war. But now there's a forbidden thrill to being in this room at night, being in a purposeful room without purpose. The usual stresses and duty she associates with this room on pause for the night. It reminds her of playing tea party in the formal banquet hall as a child. Sipping air at the same seat her mother often led state dinners and entertained the galaxy's leaders.

They're holed up in a back corner, the harsh overhead fluorescents off, so the room feels dim and strange. Han doesn't share her reverence for a good briefing chamber. He rearranges the chairs with a casual disregard until they're better suited for social drinking and bullshitting.

She chats for a while with Shara about the pilot's current difficulties. Which are mainly adapting speeder engines for Hoth's temperatures, and getting a strong enough signal to call her parents regularly. (Not that her infant son is much of a conversationalist, but it's the principle, y'know? If he doesn't hear her and see her often enough, how's he going to remember who she is?)

Han and Wedge seem deep in something, their Corellian flowing too rapidly for Leia to pick anything up in the snatches she hears from across the room, especially in Han's thick Tyrenan accent. Luke's in between the two of them, nodding a lot, which means he's either better then she is with Corellian, or he's somehow even worse. At least it sounds lyrical, whatever they're saying, like all Corellian does. Every now and then Han catches her eye across the small crowd. He smiles and cocks his chin towards her ever so slightly. Like they're co-conspirators. Like the two of them share some precious secret only they know about. Her cheeks burn at the presumed intimacy of it. Not embarrassed, but something close to it.

It's well after midnight before the crowd starts to thin out. Shara and Kes had stumbled off in search of Endrolian ale and never returned. Luke, ever the farmer and habitual early riser, had called it a night. Slowly, then all of a sudden, it's just the two of them.

Leia doesn't miss the carefully effortless way Han approaches her, stretches and yawns, then drapes his arm across her shoulders, pulling her close. As if they do this every day. As if tucked under his arm is where she belongs. He's close enough she can smell the whiskey on his breath. "Well honey, you throw a pretty good party." He looks younger when he's not scowling, as he so often is. Softer.

She's far gone enough to enjoy this, thrill slightly at his domestic make-believe, even if a scant few hours ago she would have sooner bit his hand off. "I think it was actually Mon's idea."

"Then tell her she really knows how to run a Rebellion next time you see her." It's high praise from the man who usually only has two opinions about Mon Mothma. One, she's an idealistic fool. And two, she pays too well. But don't correct her on that count.

"I think you like our little Rebellion."

Han sighs before he answers as if it takes a moment to build up the courage to relent and say, "I guess I do." He catches her gaze, smiles his achingly Han smile. "Don't tell Leia, though. She'd be insufferable if she knew." Leia retaliates with a sharp elbow to his ribs. Enough to register, but not hard enough to actually hurt.

"Stars forbid we have one nice moment. If you could just be nice for–" she's gesturing sharply until he catches her hand, kisses the back of it, quick and amiably. A gesture of apology for the words he'd just said, and the ones he knows he's going to say next.

"See? Already insufferable."

She laughs despite herself. It's nice, this. Fighting for fun. (There's a word for that. Flirting. But admitting to herself that that's what they're doing right now is one step too far for her, even now.) It's a struggle to pinpoint the last person who teased her, treated her like Leia, as opposed to Commander or Princess. She knows it was before, before– well, even Luke still has a hint of awe in his voice when he talks to her sometimes.

It's as close as she's gotten him to admit to caring about the Rebellion and she wants to savor this victory. And it shouldn't be a turn on. She's on a base literally filled with sentients who care so damn much they're ready to give their lives to the cause. But it is. Because everything right now feels warm and soft. Because it's him. Because maybe she likes her men like she likes her political revolts. Hard-won and more difficult than they should be.

If she's thinking about kissing him again, it's his fault. For having that stupidly beautiful smile, and directing it at her while admitting he cares about the cause, saying he likes the rebels in a way that really means he likes her. It's not fair. Who grins like that, warm and somehow indecent all at the same time.

So really she has to kiss him, if he's going to have that face.

And it's like he's been waiting every moment for the past three months for this. For it. Again. Like he needs to prove himself after last time when he'd just stood there dumbfounded. Without hesitating, his hand cups her jaw, guiding her closer.

It turns out Han kisses the same way he flies, the same way he argues with her, the same way he does everything in life. Focused and intense and just a little bit carelessly pleased with himself. It's just as impressive and infuriating as anything else he does. He's... unhurried. Less interested in conquering her and more simply exploring, mapping her unfamiliar constellations so he can navigate by them in the future.

She leans further into him, doubling down on her own boldness as if that's the way to somehow regain control of the situation.

He only responds with an arm around her waist, until their bodies are flush against each other. This got away from her so fast. It's dangerously close to something she can't take back, if she even wants to. She feels lightheaded and fuzzy on the exit points.

A loud crash out in the hallway, followed by the sound of glass breaking, shatters the spell between them. Outside, people laugh and carry on, like everything's still normal.

This time her this-is-a-bad-idea brain is slower to pipe up, struggles to gather enough righteous indignation to push him away. He doesn't look offended when she does, though. He looks about as far from offended as possible. "Sorry sweetheart, but I think this time you have to admit you kissed me."

"Don't worry, it won't happen again."

He doesn't look convinced. But then, she didn't sound convincing.

They go three weeks and two days without any more kissing incidents. Not that she's keeping track.

It's either very late or very, very early. If anyone ever asked, not that they did, she would say she spent so much time on the Falcon because it was warmer than the rest of the base, short of her hanging out down on the fuel reservoir level, warming her hands against one of the large fuel pipes that keeps the entire base running.

But everyone seemed to know better than to ask.

Han had spent the evening replacing a motivator in the Falcon's shield generators. She was there under the pretense of needing somewhere warm and relatively quiet, somewhere with an endless supply of kaff, to review reports. Except most of the night had been her sipping kaff while passing tools to Han and watching him work. Grease-stained white shirt with sleeves absentmindedly pushed up to the elbows. Bare feet.

Working on the Falcon is a physical undertaking; throughout the evening he's done everything from dangle half of his body into an open panel in the floor, to bury himself in the sea of wires and circuitry that live behind the main hold's command station. Over the years, she's heard him declare that his blood and sweat are what hold the Falcon together. But it's fascinating to watch the act, the ritual offering of himself to his ship's wellbeing, see for herself how his declaration is in no way metaphorical.

She's on her seventh dossier (and fourth mug of black kaff) when he sidles up to the table, wiping his hands with a deeply stained rag. "Don't you ever take a break, sweetheart?"

"The emperor's not taking breaks. Vader doesn't take breaks."

He plops down next to her on the bench, his body close enough she can feel its warmth. "And isn't that what separates them from us? How we value life and," he waves his hand vaguely. "–actually getting to live it?"

"I promise to live my life after they're dead, how's that for a compromise?"

A wry smile graces his face as if he doesn't want to disturb the quiet of the ship by laughing out loud. "And what about the next Vader? And the Vader after that Vader? And the–"

"Alright, I get it." She pushes her mug of kaff around the table with great interest before she finally answers. "Someone has to do it."

"But ya don't need to do it single-handed, Leia. What about what you want?" He adds before she can answer, "And I mean you. Not what the Rebellion wants."

Maybe there's not enough left of herself for herself. She remembers who she was like one remembers a distant relative you met only briefly as a child, at holidays and weddings. 'Leia Organa' is just an abstract concept to her, another chunk of rock and dust floating around what had been Alderaan's atmosphere. If your home, where all the experiences and memories that made you you, is no more, are you no more as well? If you can't go back home, can't find those places again, can you ever reunite with yourself? Or are you destined to wander the galaxy as Not Yourself, until you eventually become someone else. If so, she's still getting to know this someone else who shares her name, who has no one and nowhere to return to, whose anger always boils just beneath the surface, who hangs out with dangerous men on their smuggling ships in the middle of the night.

She doesn't– can't say any of this. So she settles for turning her attention to him. "You can't talk. You're up same as me, still working."

"Ah, that's different. I'm working on my baby," he reaches out to pat the hold's wall affectionately. "Which is never really work."

She's witnessed enough times when 'working on his baby' was mostly just cursing and hitting it, then cursing at Chewie, then Chewie cursing at him, to know that wasn't true. But it's too late for pesky things like facts and reality.

When he finally speaks again, his voice is low and unfamiliar. He determinedly stares in a direction that is not her's. "Hey, y'know how you keep kissing me?"

Kriff.

"No, I–"

"Because y'know, if it's just getting caught up in a moment. That's one thing. I mean, I get it." He gestures to his lean, stupid body that she will very shortly push into another trash compactor. Then he adds, because he can't help himself, "I know how irresistible this package can be."

He leans closer, now firmly in her space. Surely they had an unspoken pact to never speak of this, and here he is, blatantly speaking of it. "But if it's not. If you somewhere deep down actually like me–" He doesn't even have the decency to wait until they're in some heightened, life-or-death situation. Or drunk. He really thinks they're going to have this conversation politely, at the table, over cold kaff.

She cuts him off in the tone she learned from her mother, her I'm royalty and you're not tone. "Of course I like you. Don't–"

"You know that's not what I mean. Come on, Princess." If he'd had a fraction of her diplomatic training, he'd know the proper protocol was to dance around the topic for a couple more years without ever directly addressing it.

"I– I like how involved you've become. With the Rebellion." His jaw clenches in silent aggravation. Too bad. He won't let her lie her way out, fine, but he's not provoking her into some heartfelt confession. "You have! You run missions efficiently... most of the time. You're reliable. Riekeen can't stop singing your praises–"

"I'm not talking about being another dedicated soldier for your cause. You have Luke for that. What you're describing is Luke. Is that what you want?" The air of betrayal in his voice is only half-teasing.

"I do not!" Invoking Luke is out of bounds and he knows it.

"You want Luke, but you don't want to scare him off. So you're using me as a cheap substitute."

"That's absurd. Don't you think I'd be with Luke right now if I wanted him? I don't want Luke."

"Then prove it," he challenges. It's a stupid dare to get her to kiss him again, she gets that. But he doesn't actually think she'll do it, does he? He can't. Which would mean he'd be so surprised if she did actually kiss him. She could kiss him, quick and cold, to shut him up and wipe the smirk off his face. That's fine. That's just beating him at his own stupid game, right. She takes a moment to pride herself on her own strategic ingenuity, then presses forward.

Damnit.

Apparently, he did think she'd kiss him. His mouth meets hers easily, his lips slightly open and encouraging. It's like the last time they kissed, but more. More intense, more real. Sharper and in full color. Her ingenious strategy immediately forgotten, she leans into him, kissing back.

She should–

She moves her arm to better reach him, sink her fingers in his hair. In the process, she elbows her forgotten kaff mug. "Shit," he hisses under his breath. Han reaches and fails to catch the mug before it tips and spills across the table.

"Is kaff on all my files?"

"And getting into the dejarik table wiring. Great."

"If this table wasn't so damn small–"

Han's already turning his attention back to her, muttering, "Forget it, I'll clean it later."

"–and surrounded by junk–" she stretches and shoves a box of tools off the edge of the bench behind him. If they're being messy and destructive, might as well go all in.

He catches the handle of the toolbox before it can hit the ground, only to throw it across the room. "Are you seriously starting a fight right now?! We coul–" A loud clanging stops them as a rogue hydrospanner falls down an open panel, hitting something down there with a sickening thud. A second later, smoke drifts up from the panel. "Okay, that's definitely the hyperdrive."

"You just broke your hyperdrive?"

"I can fix it later!"

"It's on fire!"

"Barely!"

The reality of their ever more compromising situation hits her. The sudden absurdity of it. How will she explain to Riekeen, Mon, Luke for crying out loud, how she died in a fire on the Falcon, in the middle of the night. Or maybe they'll survive, evacuate out into the hangar looking disheveled and compromised, where she'll only be able to wish she was dead. Or maybe nothing more will happen than Luke will stroll aboard in the next moment, hiding out and warming up before his early shift. All possibilities feel equally catastrophic. "That's it, I'm out."

"Because of a tiny mechanical fire?!"

"That's not it." Leia struggles to extricate herself from the table, his arm, the mess of tools and exposed paneling. All of it. Finally, she storms towards the Falcon's gangplank. "You can't go five minutes without breaking something." Hyperdrives. Ships. Nice, peaceful moments they were having. Unspoken agreements to kiss sometimes and not ask each other follow-up questions about feelings. Their whole tenuous friendship. The list goes on.

"Oh come on. You're not as blameless as you like to imagine, Your High and Mightiness."

"Don't try to pull me down to your level."

"Is that– fine leave, before I dirty your royalness with my level and my fire."

"That's not what I meant!" It's impossible to articulate what precisely she did mean, though.

"Great! Come back when you know what you want."

"It won't be you!"

Tomorrow morning she'll pick up her kaff-stained reports. When she does, she'll call him captain and stare at the bridge of his nose rather than make any real eye contact. She'll pretend she can't see his expression oscillate between wounded and annoyed. Then she'll get back to work. And if she finds herself entertaining any more bad impulses when it comes to Han, she'll sternly remind herself that it only leads to destruction and doom. Literally.

In the meantime, she ignores the fact that to her rattled, tired mind, the smoke in her hair smells like starblossom fruit.

[suga-ssi]

I’ve only recently discovered bts and haven’t been able to stop listening to them. They’ve been around a lot longer than I realised and was wondering If you’d be able to explain some things about them, how they became bts. Traits that you’ve noticed they all have?

Oh wow! hahaha Hi! Welcome to the BTS Fandom! Fans are called ARMY. Yes, BTS literally has an ARMY of followers. (notice me not explaining what ARMY means lmao). While starting to write this, I realized I could write a whole book about it, which honestly, some people have. LMAO So I’ll try and make this informative starting with the foundations of BTS, the members, and the official links LMAO I also tagged some bias tumblr pages and group update pages.

Foundations:

Also, yes! BTS has been an active idol group since 2013. They had their first live stage on June 13, 2013.  They are managed by a company called BigHit and was founded by a famous Korean composer named, Bang Shihyuk, more known in the K Music industry as Hitman Bang. The company itself was small and didn’t have big artists on it’s roll and roster yet, but the members and Bang PD took a chance on each other.

They had very humble beginnings. BigHit didnt have their own building, instead they rented some floors in one building. One floor was an office space, one was a practice studio, small room for recording, small rooms for production. The members themselves had to fit in one small bedroom with 3 double deck beds and a small solo bed for Jungkook.

They first introduced themselves through a series of Vlogs before they even debuted as BTS, which actually means 방탄소년단 Bangtan Sonyeondan (Bulletproof Boyscouts). Initially, they were supposed to debut as a rap group but the company decided on making them an idol group. 

Their music has always been targeted towards the millenial age group and their lyrics aspire to inspire the youth. They did produce a number of love songs that were pretty usual for kpop idols but as they found their voice and produced their own music, more of their colors as individuals shone through. They sang and wrote about their struggles, hopes, dreams, which a lot of us can relate to.

Members: 

(leader, then in order of age, except suga last… cause… my favorite lmao)

All the members are quite filial, always talking about their family. They are also very humble are always in awe of how much they have achieved together. Their loyalty and care for each other is very apparent in the way they interact. They all have a good, weighted understanding of music and desire for growth in their skills. 

Kim Namjoon (김남준 aka RM, formerly Rap Monster) 

position: leader, rapper

bday: September 12, 1994

height: 181 cm (5’11.3”)

family: parents, younger sister

hometown: Ilsan

BT21 character: Koya

Born in Ilsan, he is a smart cookie and an avid reader. It is a fact that his IQ grade is 148 and that along with his rapping prowess, made him a standout even as a rookie idol. He is also known as the English speaker of the group. According to him, he learned by watching the series FRIENDS and listening to western music. Before being part of BigHit, he was already gaining ground as an underground rapper under the name “Runch Randa” in 2007. He was only in middle school.

RM decided to join a rap crew called “Daenamhyup,” which consisted of some of the top underground rappers. RM then auditioned for another rap group which is where he met Untouchable’s Sleepy who was so impressed with him and he passed him onto Bang Shi Hyuk.

Bang PD basically created the whole idea of BTS around RM. He said that the moment he met RM he knew that he was special and it would be a waste of skill to not hone his talent. 

RM now has the most production credits for the lyrics he writes and songs he produced for BTS. His lyrics are very poetic and are usually profound, finding root in various forms of literary works. He has a very commanding stage aura when he raps.

He has released 2 mixtapes so far.  His first mixtape RM was released on March 17, 2015 and his second, Mono was released last year, October 23, 2018. His studio is now Rkive (formerly Mon studio).

Personality wise, Namjoon is more timid than his stage persona. He enjoys quiet morning walks in nature. His song Reflection even has a layer of one of his recordings of his surrounding while at a park. He is very clumsy, hence his nickname in the group as “god of destruction”. He also has a very interesting take on fashion which you can see from his #kimdaily posts on twitter.

If you’d like to know more about RM I suggest you follow @kimdaily​

Kim Seokjin (김석진 aka Jin)

position: eldest, vocalist

bday: December 4, 1992

height: 179 cm (5’10.5”)

family: parents, older brother

hometown: Gwacheon

BT21 character: RJ

Though Seokjin is the eldest member of BTS, he often doesn’t act like it. He was street casted by BigHit. Idol companies usually do this in Korea when they find someone with standout visuals in a crowd. He was actually scouted by SM too (company managing EXO) but he thought it was a scam and he never showed up. He took his chances with BigHit. 

He had no singing nor dancing exprience when he started training with BigHit. He wanted to be an actor. All of his skills come from sheer determination and hardwork. In my opinion, he has the most emotional voice among the members. His range has developed immensely. 

Despite having a cheerful and light hearted persona, he is actually really deep and smart. He graduated from Konkuk University last February 22, 2017 with a degree in Film and Visual Arts and majored in Film and Acting. He was part of the early admissions list and is now taking his Masters degree for Film in Hanyang Online University. 

Personality wise, he is loud and playful. He is also easily surprised. He gained the nickname “Worldwide Handsome” after his visuals and confidence made people pay attention during one of the red carpets in the US. His father is apparently a CEO and his mother is a beauty queen.

He said he gained his confidence after bleaching his hair blonde and gaining much reaction during their live performance of “FIRE” where he gave air kisses. To top his amazing visuals and vocals, he also plays the piano and the guitar. Oh! And he has a sugarglider as a pet. No joke. 

If you’d like to know more about Jin I suggest you follow @jinfesta

Jung Hoseok (정호석 aka J-Hope)

position: rapper, lead dancer

bday: February 18, 1994

height: 177 cm (5’9.7”)

family: parents, older sister

hometown: Gwangju

BT21 character: Mang 

Jhope, also called fondly by the members as Hobi and Hoseoki, is the lead dancer of BTS. He had no rapping experience prior to training with Bighit and was initially trained to be a vocalist. 

He was fairly known in the dance scene of his hometown and was even a part of a dance crew called “Neuron”. His love for dancing led him to audition as a trainee at a company called JYP (company that manages GOT7). He passed a few auditions there but was eventually cut as a trainee. 

He didn’t give up though and went on to audition for BigHit. He started training as a vocalist for the supposed rap group which included RM and Suga, but due to the influence of the rap trainees around him, his affinity for rap and lyric writing grew.

He is now in charge of dance for BTS and though he doesn’t get much center formation attention or spotlight, everyone knows that he is the one helping the most with choreographies and training each member. He is very detail oriented and is very observant of each member. Namjoon even said that if he wasn’t the leader, he would want Jhope to be the leader. 

He has a number of production credits too and released his own mix tape, Hope World on March 1, 2018. His studio is also called Hope World.

He has a very smiley persona and his energy is always alive. He is also the most easily scared, he is scared of almost everything! The members said that his happy persona came with the name, not that he was named Jhope for how he has always been. Jhope said that the name used to be burdensome but now he loves it and wears it with pride as the Hope of ARMY and BTS. 

If you’d like to know more about Hobi I suggest you follow @hobies 

Park Jimin (박지민 aka Jimin)

position: vocalist, main dancer

bday: October 13, 1995

height: 173cm (5’8.1″)

family: parents, younger brother

hometown: Busan

BT21 character: Chimmy

Park Jimin is arguably one of the most charismatic idols out there right now. His duality of being sexy on stage and fluffy cute off stage make fans everywhere melt. This characteristic is shared mostly by the Maknae line (younger members line) of BTS. 

He has had the shortest trainee period among the BTS members. before he joined Bighit, he attended the Busan High School of Arts, where he was a top student in the Department of Dance. His specialty is contemporary. One of his teachers urged him to audition for BigHit. His natural skills got him in. He trained as a vocalist under BigHit and now his vocal skills has improved largely as shown by his solo works.

He used to have chubby cheeks which earned him the nickname of Manggaettok (rice cake) and the members also call him ChimChim because of a show they had called American Hustle Life. 

He is the most active on social media. He even posts for other members when the fans say they haven’t seen the members for too long. Most affectionate member also goes to him. He is often seen hugging or clinging on to the members. If a member cries, best believe Jimin will hug and comfort them after. 

But Jimin isn’t all sweets, smiles, and sexiness. He is also very strong willed. He judges himself very harshly and strives for perfection. Lately, he has appeared to be more relaxed and said that he has been allowing himself to take breaks and also enjoy, which the fans who worry about him is very happy to know. 

If you’d like to know more about Jimin I suggest you follow @jimiyoong and @jiminrolls

Kim Taehyung (김태형 aka V)

position: vocalist

bday: December 30, 1995

height: 178 cm (5’10.1″)

family: parents, younger brother, younger sister

hometown: Born in Daegu, grew up in Geochang, went back to Daegu to study

BT21 character: Tata

The most handsome male specimen in the world for the year 2017. Kim Taehyung’s charms are endless. From his square shaped sheepish smile to his deadly on-stage smirks, it’s hard not to be drawn in by him. 

He wasn’t planning on auditioning. He accompanied his friend who wanted to audition. The auditions were held in their school because he went to an arts HS.  The staff saw him there and convinced him to audition too. He trained his voice under BigHit too and now has the widest vocal range among them, not to mention his deep, soulful baritone balances out the vocals of the rest of the singing members. 

He has a very keen eye for arts and aethetitics and he uses this for his hobby, photography. His favorite photographer, Vante even acknowledged his work. Tae-Tae, as Jimin fondly calls him, is the only one so far who has debuted as an actor among the members. He played the role of a young warrior in the series called Hwarang. His dancing has also improved. He didn’t have much dancing skills when he started, but his groove has now definitely changed and he has his own way of interpreting dance moves too.

In terms of lyrics writing and producing, like the other vocalists, his skills developed too. He co-wrote 4 o’ clock with RM and has continued to take part in writing for their songs.

Taehyung is very curious and unique. His laugh is deep and adorable. As part of the maknae line, he is also quite playful but his maturity has grown through the years. He has a pomeranian named Yeontan (coal brick), who is now one of the pets of the fandom.

If you’d like to know more about TaeTae I suggest you follow @twoy​ and @bwiae​. 

Jeon Jungkook (전정국 aka Jungkook)

position: vocalist

bday: September 1, 1997

height: 178 cm (5’10.1”)

family: parents, older brother

hometown: Busan

BT21 character: Cooky

The baby of the group, Kookie. He is a well trained dancer with the smooth pop voice that carries most of the melodies of Bangtan’s songs. 

Before joining BigHit, Jungkook auditioned for a talent show in Korea called SuperstarK. He didn’t make the cut for the show, but after the audtion, he received a number of calling cards from scouts of different big K-Idol companies, including the very small BigHit. Jungkook said that he chose BigHit because he was very impressed by RM. After he joined BigHit, he had the opportunity of being trained in LA for dance.

He has a tendency of starting different projects for himself, playing the drums, the guitar, etc. But, he found his niche in film production and even has his own brand of behind the scene footages of BTS under his production brand, Golden Closet Films.

He has been called the golden maknae because of his natural skills and visuals fit for being an idol, not to mention that body and his determination to keep working out for it. No wonder companies were eager to train him. 

Jungkook has been growing in his music production too and has helped compose, produce and write some of their songs, like their song, Magic Shop. He is a powerhouse on stage and baby our of it. He looks up to his hyungs a lot and said that they basically brought him up since he started training at such a young age. 

If you’d like to know more about Kookie I suggest you follow @aurjeon​, @nochuie​ and @jjks​

Min Yoongi (민윤기 aka SUGA)

position: rapper

bday:March 9, 1993

height: 174 cm (5’8.5″)

family: parents, older brother

hometown: Daegu

BT21 character: Shooky

Suga’s love for music was developed at an early age. When he was 13 he started working at a studio to learn more about music production. As the years progressed he joined an underground rap group in Daegu called “D-Town.” And even before auditioning for BigHit, he has created beats for various underground big names in hiphop. 

He auditioned through a hiphop competition called “Hit It” and he placed 2nd over all. He initially joined the company as a producer but Bang PD was able to convince him to be part of BTS. He still jokes that Bang PD tricked him into joining cause he thought it was going to be a rap group. 

Though his outward demeanor seems cold and lazy, the members actually talk about how he spends most of his time working at his studio and going home when the sun comes up. He may also seem timid but he has been vocal about various social issues like LGBT, poverty and education. He has also made it a personal traidtion to donate to charities or gift fans on his birthday.

He released his mixtape Agust D on August 15, 2016. There he opened up about his struggle with mental health and his view of himself. He also narrated his journey to becoming part of BTS. His studio is called “Genius Lab.” 

To date, Yoongi has helped in producing and writing a number of BTS songs too. He also produced a song titles Wine with K singer Suran which topped various Korean charts. It was in the end lauded and he received his first solo award for production. Hence his nickname, Min PD.

P.S.: I love him. LMAO

Official Links:

To learn more and get updates about BTS, I suggest you follow these blogs : @bangtan​, @allforbts​, @bts-trans​, @bts-fc​

BTS Youtube - for Bangtan Bombs (additional behind the scene stuff)

BigHit Youtube - MVs and other official vids (trailers and teasers)

BTS Vlive - for BTS Variety shows

BTS Twitter - members posts

BTS BigHit Twitter - official updates

Website

Instagram

Official Blog

Spotify

Sound Cloud - for music they don’t release in albums

If you want to know more… cause, ISTG… there is sooo much more! Feel free to dm me.. hahaha I love helping out new ARMYS.

[lucillelawlors]

The Tale of Jerky McCockface A.K.A. The Dude who Broke Up with me 3 Days before my Birthday

Sometimes in life shit happens, and sometimes stuff happens that makes you think “that has completely lowered the bar, I will happily take all the other crap than handle this shitful event”. This tale was truly one of those things. 

Enter Peter. A dude that seemingly had a social conscience who worked in left leaning politics. Peter and I had immediate online banter chemistry, the same day we started chatting flowed into going out for a spontaneous drink at around midnight. Peter was my type: tall, bearded, solid, off beat hilarious sense of humour and god damn, we just clicked. After an hour in, the pash session commenced and continued, in the bar, in another bar, on the street, sitting on the grass... we just couldn’t get enough of each other. I inform him of my 1st date rule being no poundtown and he respects that, telling me at about 4am I should send him home in a cab, him getting my number before we part ways and messaging me immediately saying “that was diabolical”. 

I had one of those sleeps where I hardly slept but didn’t feel tired, the buzz from the date energizing me and then awake at 7.30am. I see his text and reply back about how it was a pretty amazing night, our back and forth continues until I suggest that we pretend we didn’t go home to our respective places and go out for brunch, he wholeheartedly agrees immediately asking when and where. Our pashfest continues, in the streets, in shops, in the cafe and it seems kinda rosy... yet he pulls away when I go to hold his hand saying, “that’s couple territory”. I respect that and we continue having a great date together and then knowing it’s no longer the first date, have some of the most surprising first time sex, he has a huge thing for going down on women and I certainly do not protest and am definitely not let down by his skills. We depart and not long after we’re at our different evening activities, I hear from him saying how good all of the day was and how he wants to do it all again, soon. We make a date to eat steak the next night and just before we’re meant to meet, I say I’m with a friend and he asks if I’d like him to meet them and I’m thinking “wow, dude is KEEN!” 

So for the record, that’s 3 dates in 3 days. Texting right after we depart. Keen to meet my friends. We continue seeing each other 2-3 times in a week with the sex just getting stupidly better, we discover we love the same music, uncannily both loving the Diana Ross song “chain reaction”, dancing to it together in my kitchen. Then at the two week point, he asks me if I’m still chatting with other guys as so far he hasn’t been chatting with other girls since we’ve been seeing each other. I say no, I haven’t felt the need because I’m enjoying his company. This to me is like a mini version of “the talk” minus an actual status label being used. Our messages are constant, he calls me beautiful all the time and is super supportive of everything I do in my career. 

At our next date, I mention I’m going to a party in his hood and if he felt like it he was welcome to join me. I notice a change in his vibe straightaway, he mentions something like “I might know people” and “I might not know anyone” and “maybe ask me on the day and I might say yes”. After this date, the messages slow down and on the day I message him with a cute as fuck photo of myself in the 20′s theme and yet.... crickets. I go to the party, try to have a good time but feel like something is off, my mood is crashing brutally fast... I message him and say “for the record, I’m happy going to this solo” and yet... nada. I drink... I drink a LOT and before I know it I’m dishing my conundrum to the sisterhood there, one asks to see a pic which I oblige and bingo, she went on a date with him ages ago, saying “oh he’s a really nice guy!” so I take this as a good sign. 

The next day I’m woefully hungover, I vaguely recall kissing a girl with blue hair at the party, discover my wallet is missing and $300 is missing from my bank account... I beg a friend who lives locally to buy me and pie and bring it to me as getting out of bed is just something I cannot handle. Emotional drinking, a very very bad idea... And all because the guy I fell for is dishing out the radio silence. Next day I go to the gym, I train and I get mad. I’m not going to stand for this behaviour and send him a message with as much restraint as I can muster saying “hey, I don’t know if the whole come to the party thing has freaked you out but I’d rather know what’s going on ok?” and within 30 mins I hear from him, saying that yes, he’s freaking out about how fast it’s all going and can we just slow things down. I oblige because I really like this guy and I don’t want him to feel uncomfortable. We chill, I let him set the pace but notice immediately the messages don’t have that easy flow to them as they used to and he’s not so affectionate towards me anymore. This is really playing with my head because.... I have fallen in love with him, but I tell myself to be respectful of his feelings. 

We continue to date and get some of the vibe back, seeing each other 1-2 times a week. It’s around just after 2 months that I feel things are stagnant, mainly as we always do the same things with each other. I’m also dubious that the game is always played at mine and never at his, I don’t feel like he’s got anything to hide and when I have asked he says it’s because I live centrally to where we go out and that he’d need to fumigate his room it just feels like he’s happy to come into my world but keep his own barriers up. So I attempt to have some sort of conversation saying that I like him, I don’t want to put a label on things but would like to know there’s scope for growth. He says to me that we have a good connection, he likes spending time with me and that we definitely have a thing going on. And that he’d like to have more of a conversation about this in future. In my mind, these are the words of someone who is into it just wanting to be cautious. 

It’s now one week before my birthday. I hint that I’d like to spend my birthday with him and let him know that yes I’ve organised on another night to have drinks with friends and that he’s welcome to come but not obliged to. Peter says he thinks he has a work thing on the night of my birthday but that he’d let me know by the next day. The next day comes and goes. No messages. The following day I enquire, he says that yes he has a work thing on and I playfully say to him to feel free to do something around my birthday. Then comes the beginning of the fall, he says that he feels like we’re in different places with expectations and that puts us in a weird spot. We decide to talk in person a few days later, I’m optimistic we can find a middle ground from what he said at our last “chat”.

Amusingly I have lost my voice right before we have this talk, so that’s a fun element to throw in the mix! I start by clarifying that I’m not after a label, I just want to let things flow and feel that things are stagnant so how about we mix things up... He agrees and then says “I don’t think I want that.... I don’t think I want this...” I’m confused, so very confused and remind him that only 4 days ago he said that we had a good connection, that he enjoys spending time with me and that we have a “thing” going on. He doesn’t really comment on that but says he doesn’t want to do this anymore. I feel like I’ve been mortally wounded, I don’t know what to say or rather barely manage to whisper because no voice. I then get angry and sit there in shock and anger. I feel like I’ve been misled, that I’ve been at the mercy of his indecision and have bowed to his whims with his constant changing of pace. And I am a woman royally scorned.  

That night I demand more answers, his replies are sheepish and they really do not give me much more closure other than that he’s not sure what he wants. I say to him “you will always be the guy who broke up with me 3 days before my birthday.” 

So in closing, I’m grateful that I know that I have it in me to fall in love again but maybe best not to break up with someone mere days from their birthday if you’d like to avoid forever being “that guy” or have your name changed in my phone to “Jerky McCockface”...