#the tweet that it's in reply to sets up the painting as one that 'always makes you cry' thus increasing the impact of the punchline

[dullahandyke]

Whenver I see that post abt a Twitter user completing Keith Haring's unfinished painting with AI and getting replies like 'NO this is BAD ❌🙅‍♂️🔥 the original meaning of the painting wasssss' I'm always a little baffled that rarely do people reblog a version clarifying that the tweet is like. Satire and/or bait

[ailtrahq]

The Sam Bankman-Fried (SBF) trial continued on October 6 (Day 4), with FTX Co-founder and SBF’s associate Gary Wang taking the stand once more in continuation of the proceedings from the previous day. Wang was more specific in his testimony this time as the prosecution provided more damning evidence against the defendant. Wang Reveals Extent Of Fraud Under Sam Bankman-Fried According to a thread on the X (formerly Twitter) platform by Inner City Press, which was present at the trial, Wang confirmed that Alameda Research enjoyed “special privileges” from FTX. The prosecution had already laid out a premise of a code attached to the FTX wallet page that kept track of the values in a user’s wallet.  There was an “allow negative” command in this code. If checked, such a user could go above their balance, which was how Alameda could trade more than what it had in its account. The trading firm allegedly had a “large line of credit” and could trade faster than others. Wang noted that this was kept secret and never disclosed, contrary to what SBF had said about the loans to Alameda being permitted. Wang stated that Alameda used this “special privilege” to withdraw nearly $8 billion in fiat and crypto. This money allegedly belonged to FTX’s customers. With the ‘allow negative’ code in place, there was no limit on the amount Alameda could withdraw. This went on since July 2019, when FTX’s Director of Engineering, Nishad Singh, added the code. Interestingly, no one else besides Alameda enjoyed this privilege.  Wang also confirmed that the trading firm had a negative balance in 2019, and even then, Sam Bankman-Fried authorized that Alameda could withdraw up to $100 million. Alameda’s negative balance was so huge that it was more than FTX’s revenue at some point. The firm had a negative balance of “$200 million or more” compared to FTX’s revenue, which was around $150 million.  FTT Token trending at $1.19 | Source: FTTUSDT on Tradingview.com More And More Loans To Alameda Following the prosecution’s question regarding the size of the line of credit to Alameda, which Sam Bankman-Fried authorized, Wang stated that the defendant approved $65 billion for Alameda. Noteworthy is that no other customer received up to a billion in loans, and only a dozen customers received up to a million.  It is worth mentioning that SBF had always painted Alameda Research as a liquidity provider for FTX. However, Wang’s testimony shows that it was the other way around as the trading firm kept withdrawing funds from FTX, including part of the $65 billion line of credit that SBF authorized to the company.  The prosecution questioned Wang as to if SBF made public statements about how Alameda Research was treated, of which Wang confirmed that SBF always asserted the trading firm was treated like other customers and didn’t use FTX funds. Following this, the Prosecution went on to tender SBF’s tweet in 2019 (around the time when the code was just added). The tweet was in reply to another user’s concern about the conflict of interest existing between FTX and Alameda. Sam Bankman-Fried explicitly stated, “Alameda is a liquidity provider on FTX, but their account is just like everyone else’s.” The trial is set to continue next week on October 10, with the prosecution expected to call more witnesses.

[midnight-coast]

As Ballad, Wavering Heart.

For you, who settled to take the way and land here. I salute you, avidly, before we delight in with each other, and let’s toast for the times to come.

To get rid of your questions, I’m Zinedine Renoir. You can address me with Zi, Zine, Reno or I don’t mind with any sort of nickname by your choice if you have one as long as it’s not offensive. I’m going with masculine pronouns and, worry not, has reached the legal age. Virgo, an INFP–T to be precise.

A few little things that might give you an idea of who I am: I’m one of the F1 enthusiasts and MotoGP as well. Have an interest in classics, history, astronomy, paintings and places over the world, a huge Ghibli fan, if I may add. I read and I do write.

Further side of this lane.

I lay my eyes on many kinds of books, some of my all-time favorites are:

The Monstrumologist (Rick Yancey), A Tale of Two Cities (Charles Dickens), Dracula (Bram Stoker), Burning Heat (Akiyoshi Rikako), Sepotong Senja untuk Pacarku (Seno Gumira Ajidarma), Kambing & Hujan (Mahfud Ikhwan), Kura-Kura Berjanggut (Azhari Aiyub), Burung-Burung Manyar (Y. B. Mangunwijaya), Sang Raja (Iksaka Banu), Perjalanan Mustahil Samiam Dari Lisboa (Zaky Yamani), Semua Untuk Hindia (Iksaka Banu), Night on the Galactic Railroad (Kenji Miyazawa), Death Comes for Archbishop (Willa Cather), Animal Farm (George Orwell).

Close-up of musicians or singers:

Avenged Sevenfold, grentperez, Powerwolf, AURORA, MLTR, Before You Exit, Why Don’t We, Imagine Dragons, 5SOS, OneRepublic, Far Caspian, Cat Stevens, Sufjan Stevens, New West, Beach Weather, Mitski, Charlie Burg, Birdy, Laufey, and more.

I’m not that broad jump into movies, but here’s my best-liked:

Pan’s Labyrinth, Dead Poets Society, Aftersun, The Scent of Green Papaya, Roman Holiday, To Kill A Mockingbird, Une Vie à T’attendre, Top Gun, All Quiet on the Western Front, 1917, Dunkirk, Saving Private Ryan, Interstellar, Good Will Hunting, Better Days, The Little Prince, The Truman Show.

BEFORE YOU FOLLOW. I’m not against you calling me by the old alias, but I’d appreciate it more if you called me the current one. My account is my safe place and I’m labelling this as cyber account slash unlabeled. Mostly talk about my interests or random thingy here, in Bahasa or English. I want to be closer to my mutuals so I hope you don’t mind if I start replying to your tweets by sudden with no intention whatsoever but to make friends.

Minors please be wise since there will be a lot of harsh words and talk about kind of NSFW things. If by any chance you find we are not going well, feel free to BUB.

DO NOT FOLLOW IF you are rude and hateful, hate my faves, don’t wanna interact with me, disrespectful, homophobic, any religion-phobic, involved with war or drama.

All at once, there is always a seat for every one of. Feel free to reach me out anytime whether to exchange interests or setting aside day-to-day chatter. I really look forward to catch new things from you guys.

Z.

[dadsbongos]

trashy dad

Movie/Game/Show: My Hero Academia Dynamic: Shota Aizawa/Reader (Platonic) Warnings: references (2) to un*s ann*s, one (1) use of (y/n), fem pronouns Summary: Shota trying to support his YouTuber daughter :) cuz social media aus own me Word Count: 2.1K ~~~

"Hey, gamers," you grin at the camera before tossing an arm over your father's shoulders, "My dad's in town and as you can see," you hesitated slightly before turning to face your father, "Dad's not super into taking care of himself. So, I figured what's better than doing a Q&A together while I do his makeup?"

"Hitoshi just did a 'what I eat in a day', didn't he?" Shota quirked a brow, already reaching back to tie up his messy, tangled hair.

"Spoilers!" you quietly whine as you open your phone, "He still has to edit it, silly man. We're gonna have to brush out your hair later, by the way."

Shota's eyes widened, "We? I thought this was your idea and video, (Y/n)."

"No," you huff, scrolling through a few of the questions from fans, "I mean it was but your hair is so… Okay, first question is from - oh my God the names - shrekslongtoe, what was my first word?"

"Are you gonna start putting makeup on me or just sit there?" Shota scratched at his nose before snickering, "That wasn't your first word. Your first word was 'Dada' and it drove Hizashi insane."

"Hizashi is my other dad, by the way," you lean over to grab your makeup bag, "'Toshi and I call him papa. Oooh, oh no," you looked up to Shota, "I don't have your shade, you're gonna look weird."

"I don't really care," the man shrugged, watching as you took out a pink beauty blender, "That looks like a buttplug."

"Don't say that!" your eyes were wide at his words while you got out your foundation, "Youtube doesn't like that."

"Whoops," he deadpanned, "Next question."

"Shit, right."

"Language."

"Japanese," you murmur, going to the next reply, "yoonbumskneecap asks, 'Did you believe in me-’ they said my name but you know, ‘and Hitoshi when they decided to become Youtubers?' And 'in 'Toshi's case - drop out of college to become a professional clout man.'"

"To be honest," Shota closed his eyes, only in slight fear, as you began pressing the foundation into his skin, "I was really worried about Hitoshi, I didn't know if he'd stay as big as he was because he's a lot like me, in the sense that people tend to not like us for our bluntness. So I was worried he'd be a meme for like a month and then people would drop him, but thankfully I was proved wrong," he opened his eyes when he felt you pull away and begin rooting through your bag once again, "With you, I was less worried because you're more like 'Zashi, i.e extremely likable, and you were kind of getting a boost from appearances on Hitoshi's channel. I still worry because the internet is a fickle mistress but I'm not staying up at night about it."

Pulling out a dark eyebrow pencil, you grin at your father, "Aww, that was kinda sweet. Not really but kind of."

"What I'm here for," Shota's eyes followed your hand as you uncapped the pencil and reached up, beginning to mark at his eyebrows, "I'm gonna read the next question while you kill my eyebrows."

"I'm not killing them!" you giggled, "But unlike Papa, you already have pretty thick, full eyebrows so I won't be here long."

"Good," he muttered before furrowing his brows in confusion, ignoring your frustrated groan, "who is daddysero and why is he asking if you pissed today?"

"What?!" you pull your dad's hand back to see what he was looking at, instantly calming down when you saw he was still on Twitter, "Oh, that's just Sero, he asks me that every time I tweet. I thought you went to my Instagram DMs," at Shota's questioning stare you grinned, "Mama's got simps in her DMs."

"Don't ever call yourself 'Mama' in my presence ever again," Shota shook his head, once again ignoring your annoyance, "papichulo46290 wants to know my favorite memory of you."

"If you mix me up with 'Toshi, I'll be so pissed," you return the eyebrow pencil to your bag as Shota speaks.

"I won't... probably," he shrugs while you root through your bag, "So, Hizashi had taken Hitoshi out for ice cream because of - has he mentioned his middle school trauma?" at your nod, he continues, "Hitoshi was having a bad day from middle school, shocking, so you and I were left home alone together. You were probably seven and you really wanted to paint my nails and I let you. You..." he shook his head, snickering, "you fucked them up. So bad. But you were so happy to just be spending time with me- "

"Keep talking, but I'm gonna do your eyeshadow," you lean back in, swishing your brush over a navy blue, almost black shade, "Just so you guys know, Dad wanted to look like shit, don't unsubscribe cuz this is gonna come out bad."

"It won't be too bad, you're talented," Shota did his best to remain still, "But overall, you were just so adorable and it didn't even matter that the smudged nails got me teased in the teacher's lounge the next day. It all came off after like a week because it was shitty polish but you get the idea."

"Aww, I didn't know you kept it on, that's so sweet," you fall back briefly to inspect your work, "It's not awful but I'm only posting this because you're my dad."

"Of course, I did," Shota continued scrolling through the questions, "A lot of people are asking if you mean Dad or Daddy, and a lot more people are asking for pictures of your feet, you should block them all."

"Yeah, I got sickos in my replies too, just gotta scroll past em'."

"Disgusting..." Shota grumbled as you moved to his other eye, "Is 'electrodick' Kaminari, perchance?"

"Unfortunately."

"Gross, he asks if you had an 'I'm not like other girls' phase," Shota hummed quietly in thought, "Maybe when you were eight for like a month, but that's probably because except for Nemuri you didn't have any women in your life. Thankfully you moved on from that pretty quickly."

"Oh yeah, that was a gross, weird time. You and Papa also weren’t shitty people so I didn’t have a lot of misogynist influence."

"I like to think we did a good job," Shota sighed, finally moving back into his slouching position when you pulled away completely, "Is 'explosionmurder' Bakugou?"

"You know it."

"Okay well, he's asking if you plan on fucking up your bronzing again?" he thinks for a moment, “Was that from when you looked kinda copper-ish in a video?

"Oh my God, that was one time, Bakugou!" you shout and shake your brush at the camera, "One time!"

"I don't even know what blending is so you're doing better than I am."

"God, how are we related?"

Without hesitation, Shota replied, "Surrogate. Which answers summerlongsock's question."

"Nice," you chuckle, setting the brush back in your bag, "You probably won't need too much bronze or countour since you're going for bad," you immediately turn to the camera, "And Bakugou isn't gonna say a fucking word about it!"

"Is eyeliner next? And if so, I would enjoy a nice wing," Shota muttered, looking through the remaining questions, "Hitoshi asks why I haven't done a video with him yet."

You nod along while uncapping the liner, "I'm curious about that too. I thought my first video with a parent would be with Papa. I was gonna say family but..." you shrug, "Hitoshi was my first video and then Eri came on."

"He never asked," Shota closed both of his eyes, allowing you to move his head around as you pleased, "You just texted me the video idea and we set it up while I was in town. If Hitoshi wants a video so bad he should come up with an idea."

"Jeez, don't bully the poor boy," you laughed quietly, carefully applying more eyeliner to your father's left lid, "We should all do a video together. I think it'd be fun."

"Come up with an idea," he replied flatly before opening his eyes, "davinky wants to know when you got into makeup. Probably after thirteen, sometime."

"Yeah, I got my first real eyeshadow at like fourteen and then you guys just enabled my love of makeup after that."

"Well, the thing with that was, Hizashi and I didn't want you growing up thinking you had to wear makeup for any reason," Shota opened his eyes once he felt you back away, blinking a few times, "So we waited till you were more mature because giving makeup to a six-year-old is weird."

Capping your eyeliner, you traded it out for mascara, "Yeah, even little play kits are a bit ehhh. Don't close your eyes, but look down."

Following instruction, Shota took the opportunity to read off another question, "I can't see the name but someone's asking what we did together for fun. While you were a kid."

Humming quietly in thought, you move from one eye to the other, "We used to go to diners a lot. Those late-night diner trips, remember?"

"Oh yeah, you were such a little demon about bedtime. I had to take you to this little place for scrambled eggs or some shit and you'd fall asleep on the way back home."

Putting away your mascara, you reach out for your hairbrush before beginning to pull out the hair tie in Shota's hair, "Mina wanted me to ask what videos you show people when they ask what your kids do for a living."

"For Hitoshi, the one where he and Kaminari made Bakugou breakfast with sex toys. For you, the one where you turn yourself into Mina's little character - with the pink skin," Shota winced slightly at the tug of your hairbrush, "And Eri's a teacher so that information comes first since it's the least strange."

As you fussed with his tangled nest of hair, you read another question over Shota's shoulder, "When did you know you loved me? Like after adopting me."

"Not too long after the adoption was finalized actually," Shota grumbled as the brush made its final courses through his hair, "You've always been a really great kid. I don't know when I 'realized' but it was definitely around the time you were born, maybe like the day after."

"That's pretty good considering I was a stranger," you giggled, brushing out the final knots in his dark hair, "A baby stranger."

"Hmm," Shota hummed in response, "You almost done?"

Refraining from rolling your eyes, you fluffed Shota's now smooth and detangled hair around his shoulders with a small smile, "I'm done. Your hair is so pretty when it's brushed out."

"I know," the man muttered, handing your phone back, "Wanna do one more question and then sign off?"

"Yeah," you scroll through some of the questions, "I want it to be the best question that's ever been asked."

"Ask your own, you're great at that."

You shook your head with furrowed brows at his comment, "Is that a compliment?"

"It was meant to be."

"Thanks, but no need, I've found one. Midoriya wants to know if raising two attention whores was hard. He didn't say ‘attention whores’ because he doesn't swear but that's the vibe."

"What's Midoriya's at?" Shota asked.

"SmallMight."

"Of course," the man grumbled, closing his eyes to think, "You two were honestly pretty easy to raise. Not a whole lot of fits compared to what I've heard other parents talk about. You both liked to talk a lot to each other, and, of course, to Hizashi and me. Not terribly difficult at all."

"Aww, I'm glad we didn't make you pull your hair out," you grin.

"Oh, you still did. Absolutely."

"Nice," you giggle before turning off your phone and facing the camera, "Okay guys, well, I hope you don't clown on me as much as usual because if you do, my dad will... I don't know… kick your ass."

"Exactly," Shota nodded, a horrific smile on his face, "I'll beam right into your living room."

"Hopefully you guys come back next week where I'll..." floundering for an answer, you turn to your dad as if he’d give you ideas, "Create wings to do it better than Icarus ever could."

Giving a singular stiff nod, Shota looked dead at the camera, "I'd watch it."

"You heard it from the main man himself, peeps," you waved to the camera, Shota copying the motion, “Bye!”

"If there's one comment about my eyebags, I'm never coming on your channel again," Shota lied as you leaned over to stop recording.

"They're gonna love you, I'm sure," you assure your father, "Wanna see how I edit?"

"God no, Hitoshi showed me how long it takes to edit his videos, it looks like hell."

[whereisten]

Dinner for Two

A Yuta fic that’s part of our Halloween Series!

Summary: A dinner at the high-end Osaka Moon leads you to the head chef and owner, Nakamoto Yuta.

Pairing: Chef! Yuta x female reader

Genre: romance, angst, smut, fluff, mystery, suspense, drama, crime, HORROR

Word Count: 7.8k 

Warnings: Mentions of alcohol/drug abuse, verbal abuse, mention of sexual assault, infidelity mention, deaths, and big, uncomfortable twist (the ending is not for the faint of heart, I’m warning you).

(A/N): Hiya! Well, this is probably the most disturbing thing I’ve ever written. Hope you enjoy! Haha actually, this story was inspired by Yuta’s iconic tweet: “I will eat you”. Well, if that’s not a spoiler...Thank you so much for waiting. I apologize for the delay! Please come back later tonight for another spooky tale...Also, my apologies, I didn’t get a chance to proofread. I appreciate your patience. :D 

_______

Life had dealt you some harsh blows but you found happiness wherever you could. Your management position at the vinyl store Neo Records gave you prime access to the best music in the world. Even if the employee discount was trash. You’d worked at the records store for a few months now. This followed you having moved out of your mom’s place. You’d lived with her and your beloved stepfather while you attended college but you’d had enough.

Your mom was a drug addict and her husband Scott only enabled her to continue her abuse. You couldn’t say anything to them because you were the child and they were the adults.

And, as they had always thrown in your face, they paid for a good amount of your tuition because financial aid and scholarships could only do so much for you.

Well, you’re twenty four now and still a child in their eyes. You couldn’t take your mother’s mood swings and Scott’s goading for her to thrash around and party all the time. If your mother wasn’t going to get therapy and refused your help, then you decided to leave.

You had a really good relationship with your dad. You’d wished you had gone to live with him but during your college years, he’d only made enough to send you some funds for your tuition. You appreciated what he could do for you.

However, now he was more financially stable and he wanted to support you so you could move out of your mother’s house. You’d live in an apartment not too far from your dad’s place so you could visit him as much as you’d like. It drove your mom crazy. She always tried to contact you and convince you that she was going to get help. It was a tale as old as time. She said she would get help but never did anything about it. Once she had you under her finger, she reverted back to her ways: skipping work shifts, neglecting household chores, and verbally abusing you. You simply texted her you were busy with work.

Your boyfriend Johnny has been a source of comfort for you over the past year. You’d met him at a club one night with your friends. You told him you didn’t want to go home that night and asked him if you could stay over. Looking back on it, you had been too trusting but Johnny had treated you kindly: he let you take his bed while he slept on the couch. He made you breakfast in the morning: banana pancakes and scrambled eggs. You had sex with him the morning after and you’d been inseparable ever since.

These past few weeks, Johnny had been busier at his new job at a marketing firm. You two were supposed to have a date night tonight but he cancelled two hours before you were to meet at Hal’s Pizzeria for dinner. After that, you were supposed to go to the movies together. You were always a big fan of the dinner and movie date.

You sat on the couch in your living room, feeling a little blue that Johnny was working overtime. So you scrolled through your phone while you watched episodes of an English-dubbed anime about volleyball.

You texted your best friend Carla about how Johnny cancelled at the last minute and she replied: Since you don’t have plans, then I have an opportunity for you.

You texted back, What’s up?

She replied, I had a reservation at Osaka Moon for tonight but I got called in for work. Wanna go? The owner is supposed to be hot as fuck.

You replied, Okay, want me to get his number for you?

She texted, Unnecessary. Thanks, y/n. We’ll go together next time.

_______

Osaka Moon was a high-end restaurant all your friends told you about. You decided to go on your own to the restaurant and have a date night with yourself. Being alone could be tranquil, you assured yourself. And you didn’t have to worry about looking so graceful as you ate so this could be great.

You dolled yourself up in a pale pink dress and some white wedges. It was an understated but elegant look. It was an expensive restaurant so you decided to go all out. You entered the Japanese restaurant and gave the hostess your friend’s name. She immediately sat you down at a table that overlooked the bay. It was a spectacular view. No wonder Carla didn’t want this reservation to go to waste.

It was a shame Johnny couldn’t be here with you right now. This place was so romantic. There were indoor fountains with koi fish swimming around. The ceiling was painted in shades of the sunset with birds flying through the clouds. The aroma of grilled meat and vegetables made you salivate.

A waiter took your order and you took out your phone to take pictures of the restaurant and the view. You wondered if you would catch a glimpse of the chef your friend had mentioned.

As you move your camera around the restaurant to get a wider shot of the place, you recognize someone through your phone. Johnny’s hair was slicked back and he was wearing your favorite suit of his: navy blue with a ruby red colored tie. His height made him stick out like a sore thumb. The sight before you made you wish he’d be a little taller so his head could hit the ceiling. For the sight left a bitter taste in your mouth.

Johnny had arrived at Osaka Moon with another woman. She was generically pretty and you hated her even more. She looked like the mean blonde girl of every early 2000s romantic comedy. She wore a revealing dress that exposed her cleavage very nicely. Why were you paying so much attention to her cleavage? Because of the necklace around her neck: a necklace that looked identical to the one Johnny gifted you last year. It was a rose gold pendant with a rose at the center. Johnny kissed the woman’s lips as he sat her down at the table. She placed her hands against his slimy face.

Son of a-

Hot tears started rushing down your face. You were sure your mascara was running. You gripped your glass of wine tightly. You were surprised you didn’t break the glass then and there.

First off, you went to the restroom and checked your makeup. A little mascara had run down your cheeks. You fixed your makeup and took a few deep breaths. You looked at yourself in the mirror. Your eyes were red. What were you going to do now? There was a chance he’d see you and you didn’t want to see the stupid look on his face when he realized he’d been found out.

And you didn’t want to imagine what other reaction he could have. All of this happening in such an extravagant place made you seethe.

Johnny made a fool out of you and his infidelity carved a hole so deeply into your heart, you wanted to scream. So you took a few more minutes to collect yourself. You imagined your entree would be out soon enough anyway. You quickly realized what you needed to do.

You made a beeline for the entrance of the restaurant and approached the first staff member you saw. He was a slender and striking young man. His long brown hair was tied up in a bun. His chiseled face made everyone’s heads turn. His heart shaped lips were perfect. And…

Why were you thinking all of these things when you’d just been cheated on?

Wait a second…

Why couldn’t you think this way? As of ten minutes ago, your relationship with Johnny was over.

The handsome man was talking to one of the hostesses. The hostess was biting her lips and making googly eyes at him. This was awkward but you were resolved to ask him for help.

You tapped him lightly on the shoulder. “Excuse me.”

He turned around and eye contact with him nearly sent you into the stratosphere. His eyes were the deepest brown and when he looked at you, you felt like you were his world.

His eyes were that intense.

“How can I help you?” He smiled, his perfect set of teeth greeted you.

“Hi...Um, what’s your name?” You start, awkward at the start.

He smiled even wider, “Yuta, miss. And yours?”

“I’m y/n. Can I make a special request?”

You didn’t know it then but Yuta watched you enter the restaurant earlier. He was stunned by your beauty and your smile. You looked like a princess as you entered his castle. He saw the wonderstruck look on your face as you were led to your table. He’d never seen someone so happy to enter his restaurant. The young man before you was the owner of Osaka Moon: Nakamoto Yuta.

So for you to come up to him and ask him for a favor? He was more than happy to oblige.

Yuta noticed how red your eyes looked and was concerned. He wondered what transpired when he had to go check on the kitchen staff and couldn’t keep admiring you.

Although your eyes had been red, there was determination in them, he noted.

“Of course,” he said as you moved closer to him and whispered in his ear, making you both a little hot and bothered instantly. You both felt a spark from the moment you met eyes.

Snap out of it, you told yourself. He was very attractive, yes, but your heart had been ripped out of your chest. You wanted revenge. You had to remember why you were talking to this fine man in the first place.

_______

You sat back at your table, undetected by the clusterfuck of a man you used to call your boyfriend. You made sure to focus on your meal, which had been orgasmic. The dish was called Okonomiyaki, a pancake with sliced pork belly and cabbage. The okonomiyaki sauce, Japanese mayonnaise, and dried bonito shavings sealed this dish as one of the best meals you’d ever had. Your compliments to the chef, whoever they were.

You realized it was go-time when the handsome staff member brought the food out for Johnny and his date. All eyes were on the young man who said he would help you. You wondered why. Has your plan been found out?

The young man deposited the dishes to Johnny’s table. His radiant smile never slipped from his face. Incredible, you thought. After what you told him about Johnny, he looked like he was about to pounce on him right then. Even so, he looked attentively at you and accepted your request.

“Here you are,” Yuta said as he put down the plates of sushi in front of Johnny and Blondie. “And a special treat from our chef…”

Johnny and his date oohed and ahhed over their plates. Until the young man deposited a plate that had sauce spelling “Cheater, Liar, Bastard” on it.

“This dish is for you, sir. Have a pleasant evening with Girlfriend Number Two, you son of a bitch.” Yuta gritted his teeth at Johnny. The expression on Yuta’s face then both terrified and aroused you.

Humiliating your cheating boyfriend and standing up for you...It brought a smile to your face.

Even if you still wanted to cry.

Johnny glared up at Yuta, “What the hell is-” He then does what he never does and THINKS. He panics and scans the restaurant, looking for you. He finds you seated at your table. You raise your glass at him as you take a sip of your wine. You flip the bird at him in the process.

He stands up from his table and runs over to your table. “Y/n…”

The other woman is right behind Johnny and  simply laughs. “This is her? From the way you talked about her, I expected a real threat...but it’s nice to see that I have nothing to worry about.”

So she knew? She was in on this? You mimicked the blonde’s laugh. “Oh, fuck off...both of you…How long have been together?”

“Three months,” the blonde smirked.

That hurt. A lot. Johnny must’ve started seeing Blondie around the time you’d celebrated your one year anniversary with him.

You guessed one year was his expiration date for relationships.

“Go…” You started. “Have a nice blissful year together. In nine months or so, he’ll find someone shiny and new..”

Johnny was at a loss for words. “Y/n, I am so-”

“Are you sorry?” You rolled your eyes. “Go to hell, Johnny!” You couldn’t hold back anymore as the tears came out.

Yuta came up behind Johnny and his date. “I’m afraid I’ll have to ask you to leave.”

“How dare you?” Blondie asked. “I want to speak to your manager-”

Yuta crossed his arms as his lips quirked up. “You’re looking at him.”

The three of you stared at him with your jaws to the floor. This was news to you. You’d ask the restaurant owner for a favor? The audacity you had…

Your face heated up in embarrassment.

Yuta called over a few security guards to escort Johnny and his date out. Johnny couldn’t even look at you. A fucking coward. His other girl had more balls than he did.

Yuta put a hand on your shoulder and leaned down to speak to you. “Are you okay?” His anger dissipated at the sight of your tears.

You sniffled. “Yeah...Thank you...I-I’m so sorry for bothering you...I didn’t know you were the owner of this place…”

He squeezed your shoulder. “I was happy to help…”

You laughed. “You scared the crap out of me when you called him a son of a bitch.”

He played around with you. “Ah, you liked that? I’ve been working on my crime lord act...How do you think it’s coming along?”

You wiped your tears with your napkin. “Pretty good.”

You both laughed.

“Well, y/n...I hope you have a wonderful rest of the night.” He tipped his imaginary hat and walked away.

As you finished your meal, your waiter brought you a bowl of green tea mochi ice cream.

“Oh, I didn’t order this,” you started.

The waiter replied, “Courtesy of the boss, miss. Please let us know if there is anything else you would like. Your meal is on the house.”

“I’m sorry, what?” You asked in shock.

The waiter smiled. “Just following the boss’ orders.”

This night may have begun on a sour note but at least you could end it at this incredible place. And you were pretty sure you’d met a real life knight in shining armor tonight...

Before you left the restaurant, the hostess, annoyed, handed you an envelope. “Here.”

“What is it?” You furrowed your brows in confusion.

The hostess sighed. “The golden ticket. Have a good night, miss.” She returned to her stand with her coworkers.

You walked out the door and left Osaka Moon. You opened the envelope and found a handwritten letter.

y/n,

I’ll be upfront with you. I wanted to ask you out the minute you walked into Osaka Moon. But then I found out you had a boyfriend. And right after that, I found out he was a cheating piece of shit...So I’m at a crossroads here...Can I see you again? If yes, please call me at 555-127-1026.

Yours,

Yuta

P.S. The green tea mochi was good, wasn’t it?

_______

A week had passed. You and Yuta have been texting non-stop. He invited you to his restaurant to have dinner. The beef tenderloin he’d served you was out of this world. He made you laugh and shamelessly flirted with you the whole time. You told Yuta you weren’t ready to date so soon. You didn’t want him to be a rebound. You knew that once your heart mended a little more, you’d want to ask Yuta out. He was more than willing to wait for you.

You two had a lot in common: same taste in food, same taste in music, same sense of humor, and you both believed in astrology. No one was as unapologetic about being a Scorpio as Yuta was.

You and Yuta would share meals together frequently. Sometimes outside of his restaurant. And right after, you two would go to the movies like you wanted.

Two months have passed. Finally a couple, you and Yuta have just left the cinema. You’d just watched a midnight showing of Paranormal Activity 7.

“That was amazing,” you started.

Yuta snorted. “You are too easy to please, y/n. That movie was terrible.”

You slapped him in the chest. “You’re so full of it.”

Yuta chuckled. “Nothing beats horror movies from Japan. Just you wait…” He wrapped his arm around you.

You looked up at him. “Is that a promise?”

He kissed the crown of your head. “You bet it is.”

_______

“It is week nine into the investigation of Johnny Suh’s disappearance. Johnny Suh is a twenty four year old marketing consultant. He hails from Chicago, Illinois…” The news anchor says on the television screen.

You and Yuta are cuddled on his couch in his penthouse suite, watching the news. You were shocked when you first heard that Johnny had gone missing over two months ago. Even though you’d hated him with every fiber of your being, your heart ached for his family. You hoped he would be okay.

Yuta drove to you to work that morning and told you he would pick you up when your shift ended. He planned to surprise you with a backyard screening of “Ring”, one of the most popular Japanese horror films of all time. He’d set up a projector in his backyard so you two could watch the movie under the stars.

When Yuta arrived to pick you up, he saw you run out of the record shop and run away in tears. He ran out of his car to meet you.

“Baby, what’s wrong? What happened?” Yuta asked as he cupped your face in his hands and wiped tears away.

You sniffled. “Let’s go...Pl-please.”

Yuta was hesitant but he accepted as you definitely wanted to get the hell out of there.

The question on Yuta’s mind was...Why?

As he drove away from Neo Records, he asked, more softly, “What happened, y/n?”

“I quit,” you said.

Yuta nearly stopped the car so he could look at you. However, he couldn’t because the traffic was quite unpredictable so he couldn’t turn to face you. “What? Why?”

“I...I don’t...He...Uh…” You hiccuped between your tears.

Yuta gripped the steering wheel at the sound of “he”. “Who? Y/n, did someone do something to you?”

You were worried about how Yuta might react when you told him about how your boss, Mr. Fox, groped you during your lunch break. Mr. Fox had always been too friendly with female staff but you never thought he would cross the line. Until today.

“Mr. Fox touched...me…” You managed to say. You shut your eyes, awaiting the wrath of the Scorpio beside you.

Yuta was about to rip the steering wheel out of the car. “He did what?”

“He touched me, Yuta...And I...I didn’t know what to do...I don’t have proof...So I quit. I can’t be in the same room as him anymore…”

Yuta was furious. To see the woman he loved broken and helpless. You were his everything and you deserve nothing but the best the world had to offer. And to see you get treated like this? He wanted to beat the shit out of Mr. Fox. He wanted to see him cry and beg for mercy.

He didn’t want to frighten you with his anger because you were already shaken up as is so he turned into a store plaza parking lot and put the car in park. He turned to you and asked you, “Can I hold you?”

You nodded, “Y-yes…”

Yuta backed the driver seat up so you could crawl into his arms. He held you as you cried. His heart ached for you and he wondered what he could do to get you justice.

You were so thankful to Yuta. You knew he would be so upset once you told him. Your heart felt so reassured to see how passionate he was about you. He made you feel like you were his world. And you felt much better knowing that you had him by your side.

_______

A week had passed by after you quit your job at Neo Records. You couldn’t afford to pay your half of the rent so Yuta offered for you to move in. You were thrilled at the idea. You and Yuta were living like blissful newlyweds.

You were washing the dishes after you two had eaten some imported steak that Yuta had wanted to try out. It was incredible. Everything Yuta prepared for you was literal sex in your mouth.

As you stretched your neck to the left, Yuta wrapped his arms around you and nibbled on your neck. “y/n, you smell like raspberries…”

You froze and dropped the dish you’d been scrubbing into the soapy water.

Yuta turned you around quickly and pulled your cleaning gloves off of your hands and tossed them aside. He picked you up and sat you on the kitchen island.

“I love that you’re here with me…” He whispered.

The hooded look in his eyes made your panties soak. He lifted the skirt of your dress up like nothing. He sunk his teeth into the fabric of your panties and pulled them down, never losing eye contact with you. You loved how primal he got with you. He always left you with love bites. He always seemed to find new places to leave them so you can find them during a random part of your day and think of him.

“I wonder if your pussy tastes like raspberries, y/n...Shall we find out?” Yuta asks as he looks up at you. He was on his knees, looking like he was praying to his goddess.

You nodded fervently as you pulled your dress off over your head, only in your bra now. “Yes…”

He unclasped your bra so your breasts were exposed to the cold air in the kitchen. Your nipples were already hard at Yuta’s initial touch. He got up off his knees and began sucking at one nipple and rubbing the others. He bit your nipple and you cried out.

You grabbed at his growing member and he grunted. You unbuttoned his pants so his aching member could be free. You squeezed it harder and began rubbing up and down. Traces of precum coated your fingers. You worked harder to get him riled up. When he felt himself build up, you stopped and he looked up at you through needy eyes.

You kept going until he climaxed onto your arm. You licked his cum off of your arm slowly and it made his cock harder. He met you halfway and lathered up his juices. He loved the taste of his seed on you.

Yuta catered to your pussy which ached for his touch. His hot breath greeted your entrance before he inserted two fingers inside you. He coated his fingers in your growing essence. You adorned him with kisses and love bites. You bit behind his ear and he moaned at your velvet touch.

He laid you down on top of the kitchen island, throwing everything off of the table with a quick swipe of his arm. He straddled himself on top of you. He proceeded to give your entrance some kitten licks, enjoying when he teased you most of all. You got all bratty and needy and it always drove him up a wall.

“Yuta...please hurry,” you begged.

He tsked. “Good things come to those who wait, darling.”

At the sound of “darling”, you got even wetter.

He chuckled as he licked your folds and played around with your sweet spot. Never quite making contact and making you delirious with need. You gripped his hair, trying to maneuver him to hit your sweet spot already.

“You better not cum until I say so, y/n...Or else I’m going to get very angry…” Yuta said with a mischievous smile on his face.

Yuta underestimated his touch, you thought. The man was literal sex on two feet. You came quickly at the contact he’d made with your pussy.

He frowned at you, “My dear little slut, you’ve disobeyed me.”

You sighed blissfully. “You make me want to break the rules, Yuta.”

He laughed. “So I’m to blame for your disobedience, huh?”

You grabbed his face and kissed him, your tongue playing around with his. You kissed his neck and left marks against his collarbone as he teased his cock against your entrance.

He entered you now and you felt close to completion. He thrusted against you and you joined him. The slapping of skin against skin and your moans echoed throughout the penthouse. You were thankful there were no next door neighbors. You liked the feeling of this floor being just the two of you.

Alone with Yuta, you felt like the center of his universe. You felt like a queen. That no one else mattered quite like you did. Yuta always made you feel like the most important person in the world.

You felt the need to climax come back quickly but just as you wished for your release against Yuta’s member, he removed himself and pecked your lips.

Between your thighs, he gave you a dark stare. “I don’t know if you should cum again, sweets.”

You drooled. “Please…”

Yuta teased. “What was that?”

“Please,” you full on begged as you started to touch yourself. “I need you or else I’m going to finish the job.”

He gasped and laughed. “You’re unbelievable.”

You coated your fingers in your essence and popped your index finger into Yuta’s mouth. He sucked hard.

“How do I taste?” You asked.

Yuta didn’t let go of your finger and bit lightly against it to tease you further.

You sighed. “Well, if you don’t want to fuck me properly, then I can’t force you. I’ll finish off in the shower.” You got up off the kitchen counter and nearly lost your balance. You were already weak in the knees.

Yuta fought back a laugh. “I’d like to see you make it to the shower, jello legs.”

You gave up and laid on the floor, giving him a nice angle of your naked body. You stretched out and started teasing your own entrance, imagining Yuta was building you up again. And having him watch from above on the kitchen counter, you felt yourself grow even hotter.

Yuta got up off of the counter and straddled you again. Without warning, he entered you and went hard. Tears streamed from your eyes as you climaxed quickly. Yuta continued you to thrust against your pelvis until he came quickly after.

Yuta took you into the shower where you would continue to fuck and he gave you new love bites. This time, they were on your ankles.

_______

A month had passed and you’d taken over as manager of Neo Records. Mr. Fox had fallen off the face of the earth and was reported missing. It was odd. Another man who attempted to ruin your life had disappeared. You thought it was karmic justice but deep down, it bothered you.

Your mother once again resurfaced after months of radio silence. She wanted to invite you and your new boyfriend (who she was very upset not to have heard about before) over for dinner. Scott and his kids from his previous marriage would be there. You hated them, too. They were a bunch of enabling brats that were after their daddy’s money.

You couldn’t say no to your mother, especially after she found out about Yuta from your dad. It wounded her pride that your dad knew something she didn’t. Your dad felt horrible for letting it slip in conversation with her. He couldn’t dodge her phone calls. He always tried to pacify her and talk to her when she called. So he couldn’t help but mention Yuta.

You didn’t want Yuta to know about your mother and her side of the family, for it brought about deep shame, regret, and painful memories.

But this time, you couldn’t run away.

You and Yuta went over to your mother’s lavish home, your old home for seven years. Scott married your mom when you were a senior in high school. Scott came from old money but he never worked a day in his life. The undeserving ass wipe, he was.

Your mother pretended to be the picture of domesticity as she cooked her once-in-a-decade dish of lasagna. You loved it, you hated to admit it now. You begged her to make it so many times when you were a kid. She always said she would but would always get distracted. Distracted with her new boyfriends or paying a debt. Sometimes you were truly on your own even if your mom had been physically beside you.

You and Yuta sat at the table with Scott and his kids. They prodded Yuta with questions about his ethnicity, his restaurant, his political beliefs, basically everything you can think of that would make anyone’s significant other runs for the hills.

Yuta took it like a champ. He answered them as politely as possible and whenever the question was too offensive to get an answer, Yuta masterfully deflected.

Your mom brought out the lasagna and served everyone. She gave an extra helping for Yuta. “I hope you like it, Yuta.”

Yuta nodded. “Thank you, Ms. y/l/n.” He took a bite of it. “It’s delicious.”

Your mom smiled brightly and gave you a look of encouragement.

You forced a smile.

Your mom could tell you were faking it and her smile faded. “You still hate me, don’t you, y/n?”

Oh no, you thought, not here…

“I make this nice dinner for you and your perfect boyfriend...Who is clearly way out of your league...And you’re moping around like a sad, pathetic little bitch.”

“Mom, please stop-”

“You don’t tell me what to do! I am the parent. You are the child. Get that through your thick head. God knows what poison your father has been feeding you about me but he’s wrong. I’ve never been better,” she says as she downs her third glass of beer in the past thirty minute.  

She was already this inebriated so you imagined she drank before you arrived and drank more while she was cooking the lasagna.

You looked down at your lap and Yuta grabbed your hand. He squeezed it.

“Your mother has been coming with me to church, y/n,” Scott began, “She’s been conversing with the Lord and she’s been on the mend. Why can’t you see that?”

Your other hand that wasn’t holding Yuta’s had balled up into a fist.

Scott’s oldest daughter added, “Your mom’s amazing, y/n. She’s more of a mother to me than my actual mother is.”

That’s rich….Your mom always acted so sweetly with Scott’s kids to get on his good side. It was sickening. And to hear this bullshit come out of their mouth...You were about to reach your breaking point.

“Yuta, let’s go,” you said.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Scott asked.

“Anywhere but here,” you said, “Excuse us.”

“Y/n, if you leave, I will never talk to you again!” Your mom wailed as she gripped her glass tightly.

You snapped, “Well, mom, that just might be the nicest thing would ever do for me.”

Yuta started. “Y/n-”

“Go to hell!” Your mom yelled.

“I’ll meet you there!” You yelled back as you stormed with Yuta right behind you.

Back at your place, you hid in your bedroom while Yuta ordered some takeout. You laid your face down on Yuta’s pillow and smelled the scent of his shampoo mixed with his cologne on it. It gave you great comfort.

Yuta joined you and sat beside you on the bed. “The food will be here in half an hour.”

“Thank you,” you mumbled against the pillow.

Yuta sighed as he laid down next to you. “How are you?”

“Humiliated,” you answered.

“Y/n...I am so sorry…”

“Are you kidding? I’m sorry I took you with me in the first place...I...I could’ve kept you from all of that…”

“Your mother insisted, y/n. We had no choice.”

“Yup, that’s how it always is with her and fucking Scott. I fucking hate him. If it weren’t for his money and her obsession with him, she wouldn’t have gotten to this point, Yuta…”

Yuta rubbed your arm. “I know, y/n…”

You sighed. “I know there’s nothing I can do...It just sucks. I try not to let it get to me...Since it’s something I can’t control...But seeing my mom like that...It’s really fucking unfair.” You sob into your pillow.

In between your sobs, you said, “I wish Scott would go away...Somehow…”

Yuta hugged you as you cried. He wanted nothing more than to take your pain and suffering away.

_______

A month had passed since the disastrous dinner. Your mom was good with her word. She hadn’t contacted you or your dad. You’d told him about the falling out and he consoled you. He understood your pain more than anyone. He encouraged you to keep living your life and being happy with Yuta and so you did.

Yuta’s birthday was coming up so you wanted to surprise him. He told you he was meeting a client downtown so you got to work.

You wanted to take Yuta to all of his favorite places over town and you wanted to make scavenger hunt out of it. The clues would take Yuta to places that had to do with your relationship. It was a way of celebrating how much of an amazing boyfriend he’d been to you. The ultimate prize of the hunt would be a key...a hotel room key to the Lotus Hotel.

As you shopped for art supplies for your scavenger hunt one night, you’d noticed Yuta on his way somewhere. He had a couple of shopping bags with him.

You decided to follow him and catch him by surprise. However, Yuta was headed to a more abandoned part of town, where there were only warehouses.

You got behind a bunch of abandoned cars and watched Yuta make his way into a warehouse, where his car had already been parked. Half an hour passes and Yuta comes out of the door with bags stained red with blood.

You furrowed your brows in confusion. What the hell were those?

You noticed the shifty look in Yuta’s eyes and quickly, you grew scared. Terrified of being caught.

Calm down, you told yourself, it was probably meat for his restaurant. What else could it be? You felt incredibly stupid for spying on him like this. In fact, you felt ashamed.

You waited for Yuta to leave in his car. You crept into the warehouse and tried looking through the windows. You saw nothing but butchers’ paper and a basket of random items.

Except one thing stuck out to you. A gold Rolex. It was obnoxiously large that you could never forget about it.

It was Scott’s. It was one of a kind. He had it custom-made to be the only one in existence. And now it was just sitting there in a random warehouse…

But why? What was it doing in this warehouse that Yuta came out of?

Your stomach lurched at the uncertainty of it all. You needed to get the hell out of here so you ran off.

Not realizing you’d forgotten something.

_______

Yuta made you spaghetti and meatballs after work the next day. You’d been awfully quiet and he wanted to know why.

“Something bothering you, sweets?” He asked.

You played with your food and took a bite of one of the meatballs. Damn, it tasted good, you thought. It was savory and not like any other kind of beef you’ve tasted. You had to ask Yuta where he imported his meat from because there was nothing quite like it.

Still, you couldn’t look Yuta in the eyes.

“Y/n, look at me, please…” He started.

You forced yourself to look at him and just as you were about to speak, your phone rang.

You were shocked to see that it was your mom. You dreaded answering it but if it could deflect from the confrontation you were about to have with Yuta…

You answered, “Hello?”

“Y/n!” Your mom sobbed. “Scott is missing!”

Your heart nearly jumped out of your chest. “What?”

Your mom wailed. “I don’t know what to do, y/n! Have you seen him at all since you came to visit?”

Your mind immediately went to the gold Rolex at the warehouse. “No, mom, I haven’t seen him.”

Yuta watched you with curious eyes. You averted your gaze and got up from the table. “Mom, please calm down...The police will find him. That’s what they’re supposed to do.”

Your mom laughed. “When has the police ever done what they’re supposed to do?”

You sighed. “Mom, I’m so sorry...If there’s anything I can do…” You felt awkward for saying this because you absolutely hated Scott and part of you wanted to say good riddance...But you couldn’t. You couldn’t add salt to your mother’s wound.

You mom replied, “If you see or hear anything about Scott, call me. Please.”

“Okay,” you said, “Bye mom.”

Your mother hung up.

You turned back to Yuta, who watched you carefully from the table.

“Your food’s getting cold, y/n…” Yuta mused aloud.

“Right…” You said as you sat back down. You took another bite of the spaghetti and meatballs.

“What was that about?” Yuta asked, concerned.

“My mom called. Scott is missing…” You said as you looked down at your food.

“Oh? Well, that’s terrible,” Yuta said. He looked upset enough.

But you knew him. You sighed, “Yuta, you’re hiding something from me.”

His eyes widened. “Finally, I was waiting for you to say something. It’s been driving me crazy.”

“What?” You asked.

He pulled something out of his pants pocket and it was your charm bracelet. His birthday gift to you from last month...You’d completely forgotten about it. “You dropped this on the way home.”

Your mouth opened in shock.

“How long were you watching me for, y/n? It must’ve been troublesome to be hiding in the rubble across the street…”

You lost your appetite completely. “You knew?”

“I knew you were tailing me yesterday…” He said as he picked at your plate and took a bite of your food.

You started pathetically, “I wanted to surprise you…”

Yuta nodded. “But instead I surprised you…”

“Yuta, what was in those bags?” You asked. “And what were you doing with Scott’s watch?”

Yuta bit his lip and rubbed the back of his head. “Well...Since we’re this deep into the relationship, I think I should be completely honest with you, y/n.”

The look in Yuta’s eyes was something you didn’t recognize. It wasn’t playful. It was more...evil.

“Do you remember our first meal together, y/n? How savory it was? How it was unlike anything you’d ever tasted?”

You didn’t know where this was going but you responded anyway, “Y-yeah…”

“Did you ever stop to think if it was really beef tenderloin?” Yuta asked.

Your eyes widened. “N-no…”

“Come on, y/n. It’s me...You can be honest…”

“Was it veal?” You asked, grasping at straws.

Yuta shook his head and a smile was fighting to come onto his face. “Nope...I grounded him up real nicely for our first meal together…” He muttered that last part.

“Him?” You asked.

“But who else, y/n? Think.”

You and Yuta ate together for the first time after...Your breakup with Johnny.

“Yuta...What are you…” You began.

“I think I’ve made myself pretty clear.”

You laughed skeptically. “Yuta, I know you love to tease but be serious for a second…”

Yuta’s face darkened. “I am serious, y/n.”

You shook your head. “You mean to tell me...Y-you killed Johnny?”

Yuta nodded. “Why, yes...Slit the bastard’s tire before he left the restaurant. Followed him home. Made sure Girlfriend Number Two was going up to her apartment and I got him right where I wanted him…”

“Yuta…” You couldn’t believe what he was saying. This had to be some cruel joke. And the fact that he was being so specific with these details meant that he wasn’t lying.

“So, yes, y/n, I killed Johnny and I ground him up. No evidence of that bastard’s existence is left now…And do you want to know why?”

You cried. “Yuta, stop it.”

Yuta wiped the tears from your eyes. “Because we ate him. You and me, y/n…”

You gasped in horror. You sobbed as you backed away from Yuta. “You’re a fucking liar, Yuta. Stop it!”

Yuta sighed. “Why should I stop there? That scumbag, Mr. Fox? Remember the day we made the sweetest love in the kitchen? And we had ‘steak’?”

“Yuta, no!” You fell to the floor. “Stop it! I am begging you.”

“You need to know the truth, y/n…”

You shook your head. “You killed them...And you killed Scott.”

“Ding ding! We have a winner!” Yuta rejoiced.

“You’re crazy…” You cried out.

Yuta’s smile faded as quickly as it came. “Y/n, you don’t mean that. You love me. Just as I love you. I’ve loved you since the moment we met…”

You cried harder. “Yuta…”

Yuta got onto the floor with you. “I did it all for you, y/n. So you could be free from them all.”

You couldn’t believe what you were hearing. Yuta was a murderer and...you couldn’t even think the word...

And you...you ate their remains...Johnny’s...Mr. Fox’s...and…

You looked up at the plate of spaghetti and meatballs and came to another realization. You ran into the bathroom and threw up in the toilet.

You gagged and coughed as you held your hair back.

You’d just eaten Scott’s remains.

Your world was crashing down on you. Yuta, the love of your life, killed three people. And that was only accounting for the people you knew. You had no idea what his past was really like. Yuta cut them up, ground them up, did everything a butcher would do with their body parts. Yuta fed them to you. He ate them knowingly and unapologetically.

And the worst part?

You enjoyed every morsel…

And you craved more.

Yuta entered the bathroom and held your hair back for you as he caressed your back. “There, there…”

Tears from vomiting ran down your cheeks. “Yuta...You really shouldn’t have done those things…”

“Do you really mean that, y/n? Johnny made a fool out of you and lied to you. He humiliated you and he didn’t stop his new girlfriend from insulting you. He was scum. Mr. Fox was the most vile of them all. He touched you without consent. Rapists should perish from the moment they think of touching someone...At least, give me that much, sweets…”

As disturbing as everything Yuta had said sounded, you couldn’t help but agree with him.

“And Scott...You wished to make him go away...And your wish is my command, my angel.”

You got up from the toilet and flushed the contents down. You went to the sink and brushed your teeth. All the while, Yuta watched you.

“Y/n...The consumption of human flesh has been a custom in my family for generations...These days, we can’t just pick and choose our victims. We must have an honorable reason to kill them. You gave me three victims. A feast. It’s what sustains me, y/n…”

You spat the toothpaste out of your mouth and swished your mouth with some mouthwash. “You...you’re serious?”

“I need to consume human flesh at least once a year or I will die, y/n...Why do you think my parents died so young?”

You thought about it. “They gave up on human flesh?”

Yuta nodded somberly. “I don’t want to die, y/n. Now that I’ve met you, I can’t afford to…”

“But why did you feed them to me?” You asked.

“To absorb their power. To move on,” he said, “It’s my family’s belief that once you ingest the meat of your enemy that you will overcome the barrier that they’ve created for you.”

You stood there, silent. You were afraid of what he would probably bring up next.

“You enjoyed it, didn’t you?” He asked, finally.

You averted your gaze and stared at the sink. “I...did.”

Yuta met your eyes through the mirror. “I know, y/n...And there’s nothing to be ashamed of. Not with me.”

Tears escaped your eyes. Yuta was right. It’d felt...amazing. Empowering. And each of them were the best meals you’d ever had…

“Yuta?” You started.

“Yes, darling?”

“Never keep anything from me again,” you commanded.

_______

It had been a year since the news broke out over Scott’s disappearance. Johnny and Mr. Fox’s missing person cases had gone cold.

Since Scott was out of the picture, your mom had a mental break and was admitted into a rehabilitation facility. She is continually seeking treatment and is turning away visitors. She wrote you a letter, reflecting on her past mistakes and how she’d failed you as a mother. She apologized profusely and promised you that she would try to be sober.

And that’s all you’d ever hoped for from her. You knew that it would be a difficult journey. But the desire for change was the first step in the right direction. And you had a feeling your mom was going to succeed.

You married Yuta. Your father gave you away at the wedding. You were happy. You and Yuta traveled the world together. You had adopted two rescue dogs. To your friends and family, you and Yuta were the dream.

When you’d returned from your honeymoon, Yuta had bought a house for you two to start a family together. The first night in your new house, Yuta bred you.

You two laid in bed together. Yuta hugged you and asked, “So, has anyone screwed you over recently?”

You laughed. “Nope. Sucks for you, doesn’t it?”

He rolled his eyes and nipped at your ear. “A Nakamoto man’s gotta eat, y/n...Any ideas?”

You nuzzled into his neck. “You can always eat me.”

Yuta got a hard on at those words. “You’re too sweet for me to eat. I don’t have much of a sweet tooth, y/n…”

You traced your fingers down his happy trail and asked. “Well, we can go hunting this week. I’m sure there’s some privileged college fuckboy that is beyond redemption…”

“You know what, y/n? There’s so many things I love about you but it’s your optimism that gets me hot.”

“Oh yeah?” You teased as you kissed him.

“I love you,” Yuta said between kisses.

“I love you, too,” you replied.

[Fin]

[princessofprocrastination]

She’s Creepy (Dream)

MASTERLIST

pairing : dream / clay x reader. 

summary : apparently being a huge fan of a big youtuber is considered being a creep, according to minecraft gamer, dream. and ever since he called you mean things, your world turned upside down. (ANGST) (TRIGGER WARNING)

a/n : i’m aware i’ve been writing all angsts, i just enjoy a little heartbreak. this is a two part story!

you haven’t been on social media as a public figure for long, but that doesn’t mean you haven’t been on social media before this.

you knew people, you had people you look up to, as of many other social media influencers or content creators. 

you grew pretty quick on youtube and instagram. your content mostly included room makeovers whenever you felt bored of your own home or your storytimes. you blew up from talking about your stalker. 

since then, your subscibers stayed with you and supported you, saying that you have a charm, and that you exert good energy and vibes. and those type of comments have always made your day.

you always shared with your supporters about your life, not too personal but enough for them to feel included. of course, you’re not telling them your phone number or address, but you tried to share as many details you can legally in your story times. 

that also meant that you would tell your supporters small details about you, such as what book you were currently reading or who you’ve been watching on youtube. 

even before you stated posting on your channel, you’ve been watching a minecraft youtuber, dream and his friends. 

some of your fans would tag them in some of your instagram posts, or tweets that brought no harm so you never really acknowledged it since it wasn’t hurting anyone. 

you weren’t “fangirling” you’d say. it was more of you supported them and found them funny and entertaining. 

coincidentally, you landed yourself on the dream team tiktok, which means that dream and his friends were all over you for you page. 

and to show that you were active and not dead to your followers on instagram, you’d post a funny tiktok, usually included the dream team. you thought it was harmless. to you, it was just a way to show support. 

but only a couple days later, hashtags about you and the dream team, more specifically, just dream, were trending. 

when you saw this, opening your twitter app, you immediately went to find out what this was about. your heart jumped when you thought maybe dream acknowledged you. 

in fact, it was worse. 

what was trending was a short video clip during one of the dream teams chill streams on the dream smp. 

the conversation between george, sapnap and dream went like this. 

“you guys heard about that girl who kept reposting tiktoks about us on her instagram story?” george asked the other two boys. 

“heard she watched us before she even started her channel” sapnap. 

“i don’t know about you guys, but i think she’s being a little creepy.” dream said. 

your heart sunk to your stomach. did your actions portray you to be a creep to other people?

“dream, you can’t just say that, especially on stream.” sapnap scolded him, george also mumbling something. 

“why can’t i? i feel creeped out by her, a public figure posting me all over her socials.” dream replied, tone serious. 

you clicked off the video, before it replayed again. you couldn’t get yourself to rewatch that, to hear those words again. 

almost crying, you told yourself to suck it up, that this wasn’t worth you crying. 

although they were who you looked up as minecraft gamers, this wasn’t worth your breakdowns. 

that was until, you opened your direct messages.

you shouldn’t have. you knew the dream team stans would easily hunt you down, to ask you to back off from creeping their idol off. 

but no, you still opened your dms. you expected a normal dm, ones that say they support you or some of your friends sending you memes through instagram. 

what you didn’t expect was to see a flood of threats. 

some said “kill yourself, you don’t deserve a spot on earth after what you did.” and “back off and leave my mans.” 

it got worse from there. you thought maybe it’s just the dms, but you didn’t expect it to blow up more, with people tagging you with photos on instagram and twitter. people “cancelling” you. 

you didn’t understand how this blew up like this. you were even more baffled to see some of your supporters sending you threats, too. 

was this what you deserved? 

you weren’t one to make rash decisions, nor were you a suicidal person. 

you felt stupid. just because you supported big youtubers, you get this type of treatment?

the threats, the dm, never stopped. for three whole months, you had to deal with the never ending mean comments on your social media. you thought it would die down. 

it came to the point of seeing your address and your phone number all over the internet. you never thought it would lead to this. 

you didn’t know what to do anymore. 

not long after, people started showing up to your apartment. 

sure, your apartment didn’t have the best of security, which you blamed no one but yourself for being a public figure and living somewhere with little to no security. 

they started with knocking on your door during ungodly hours. next was mailing weird stuff or sending stuff to your house. lastly, which tipped you off was that they would vandalize your apartment. 

they would egg your front door, pee, or spray paint your walls of the outside. 

you couldn’t handle it anymore. 

soon enough, you knew you had to stand up for yourself. you had to call the police. 

and that was exactly what you did. you called the authorities, which made the brave teenagers leave you alone. 

while they were egging your house and making your life miserable, you knew this was the only time for you to make a rash decision. to leave the country, to somewhere no one else would fine you at. somewhere unpredictable, that no one would expect you to go.

it took a lot for you to book a plane ticket, box up your belongings and move to a completely different country, away from your hometown, florida. 

you loved it in florida. though it was humid all the time, you enjoyed it. now that you had to leave, you only had a little while to cherish it before you leave it all behind. 

and your family, your friends. the ones you’ve grown up with, ones you’ve grown to love and cherish. you had to leave that too. and without telling them too much information. 

that hurt the most, needing to leave your loved ones behind, to start a new life, to start afresh. 

-

DREAM’S POV

i didn’t know what was happening. one thing added onto another and soon it was out of control. 

i didn’t say anything at the start, not thinking it would go this far. i didn’t know to what extent my fans would go.

sure, i saw all the things happening, but i didn’t do anything to stop it. 

i saw her address and phone number all over social media, and did nothing about it. 

george and sapnap said something, and pushed me to do something about it, but i didn’t. i was stubborn.

speaking of, it’s been months since i heard anything about her from her herself, everything i see is from my fans or hers, wondering where she is.

should i be worried?

-

YOUR POV

you left florida. the only people you told were your parents and your childhood friend, not trusting anyone else. 

what you told them was vague, that you needed to leave, away from the US. specifically, you moved to Australia. 

you made a decision to not live near the city, but the outskirts. 

you were lucky that you weren’t a spender and you made more than enough money to make the decision to leave so suddenly. 

lucky for you, you went to college and had a degree in law, so you didn’t need to worry about not having a job.

you never thought you’d make use of your degree this early in your life, thinking that youtube and being a content creator would last a little while longer. 

you had to change you hairstyles, your fashion in general since you had to be in a more professional setting. although it was hard transitioning from a casual wear and having crazy coloured hair to wearing pant suits or formal dresses and going back your natural colour. 

three years. it took you three full years for you to even think of visiting your parents in florida again. also, given the fact that you had a stable job and you couldn’t up and leave. 

but recently, you were offered to work at another law firm in florida. you were happy to tell that to your family back home but at the same time, you were hesitant to go back to your nightmares. 

but you braved yourself, since you missed your family dearly. 

now, you were sitting on your desk in your cozy home, finalizing up the last of your move, like getting a house back in florida, this time with a better security just in case. 

boxes of your clothes and belongings went first, to reach your new house there before you did so it was easier for you, not having to worry about your stuff. 

you asked none of your family’s help, not wanting to burden them. instead you told them to just meet you at a restaurant you booked for you and your family and friends for dinner about three weeks after you landed. 

although they protested, saying it was too long until they can see you again, you told them to not worry and that you were going to use those three weeks to start working at the new law firm.

you decided to take a straight flight from australia to florida, not wasting any time. although it was almost a twenty-two hour long flight, you sat throug and got to your hometown safely. 

you didn’t know what was going on with the three boys you used to adore, since you didn’t have social media anymore. 

but you didn’t mind it, it was peaceful. 

two weeks since you’ve stepped foot in florida again. it felt amazing to breathe your hometown air again. it was refreshing. 

you have fully settled in your new house, and workplace. you were glad to have met your co-workers. they were all super welcoming and made sure you weren’t left behind in anything. 

so far, your transition from australia to florida has been smooth, and you weren’t worried about anything. 

you got a car since you’ve arrived, so that you could travel easily from one place to another. 

not to brag, but. you were making enough money to live a lavish lifestyle. a big house and a pretty expensive car, and that didn’t even make a dent in your bank account. 

you were proud to see that you achieved all this yourself, and only within a couple of years. 

you were just excited to meet your family in real life instead of facetime. 

finally, the day of the dinner with your family came. unfortunately, you had to take a case in the afternoon, so you had to come to dinner in your work pant suit, with a turtleneck and a little late. 

they understood it and told you not to worry about it, and that they would just seat themselves by your name instead of waiting for you. you promised you’d pay their dinners and apologized once again. 

the sound of your heels comforted you as you walked from the valet to the restaurant. you were a little nervous to meet them again face to face after three years. but you couldn’t wait to catch up with them and tell them all about your work life that you could never tell them during the facetime calls. 

you smiled to yourself, thinking nothing could go wrong. and nothing could really go wrong anyways, it was just a dinner after all.

but you hadn’t expected the three boys you used to idolize to be eating dinner at the same restaurant you and your family would be at, specifically, opposite your table.

you walked in the restaurant, telling the front of the house that you had a table reserved under your name and that you were pretty sure the rest of your family was already there. 

she politely told you to walk alongside her, leading you to your family. 

you weren’t paying attention to your surroundings. you were solely focused on seeing your family that you didn’t know that there were extra pair of eyes staring at you. 

you smiled as your family saw you. your mum crying while standing up to hug you tightly, as she once did three years ago. 

you could hear your friends shout your name loudly, as if to tell the whole world that you were finally here. 

“don’t cry, i’m staying, no more going back to australia, i swear.” you told your mum, trying to reassure her that you were fine and that you were not going to leave her again, since she hadn’t stopped crying.

you moved to hug your dad, who had been patiently waiting for his turn after his wife. “you look great, kiddo.” you thanked him as he complimented your professional look. 

you sat down, somewhere in the middle, between your family, opposite of your parents so that everyone could clearly see and talk to you easily. 

with how noisy you family were, you were sure the entire restaurant knew your name and where you had just moved from. 

they asked you about australia, what was it like to work there, away from your family. you caught up with every single one of them. 

“don’t you live in that really expensive neighbourhood right now?” one of your childhood friends asked. 

you winked at her, discreetly trying to answer her question. the whole table shouted and congratulated you for making it this far, in only a matter of short years. 

you covered your face, shy, not wanting this part of your life to be told to everyone in the restaurant. 

-

GEORGE’S POV 

there she was. the person whose life we practically ruined. luckily, we didn’t ruin it all for her. i guess she made use of her brains and is working a normal job.

“dude.” i tried to attract the other two boys’ attention. 

“i know.” both of them answered me. 

“she’s rich rich, huh?” sapnap almost chuckled but was totally serious saying that. 

“yup.” dream. 

ah yes, clay. the man dream himself. sapnap and i tried to persuade him into making it right for her, for you. 

sure, he had said those mean words, but he can take it back. three years ago, at least. 

she disappeared three years ago. vanished. no one knew where you went. some say you moved out of the country, which deemed to be true. couple of years later people started to find out what you worked as, but i tried my best to help get rid of the information 

but they just couldn’t pinpoint where. you basically uped and left everything. 

and there was time to apologize, but it had been to late. 

i thought she died, quite frankly. i didn’t want to be the cause of someone dying. well at least, not me, but my friend. 

now us three were seated in a pretty formal and expensive restaurant to eat dinner. and we did not expect to see her here. 

she came in a little late, wearing a very professional wear. seemed like you went to work before this. 

i knew you were a lawyer, we three knew that since our fans found it out. 

she looked completely different. hair not her usual crazy colours. just seeing her in heels baffled me. she was wearing something formal and that wasn’t what you usually wore, years ago. 

- 

DREAMS’S POV 

she’s beautiful.

not that she wasn’t before. 

but this version of her was different. her in her pant suit, in heels. a turtleneck under her blazer. 

she looked elegant. classy. rich. 

i mean, she is rich. 

her family screamed when she told them where she lived. and man, that neighbourhood only had rich people. it had one of the best, if not the best security you could ask for. 

it wasn’t easy to buy a house there. even if you had the money, you’d need a certain bank card to be allowed to even be shortlisted. 

and if i saw it correctly, she drives a bentley that was just parked by a valet kid. 

damn. she is one successful woman. 

i know, how could i think this much of her, how dare i when i didn’t even apologized. i didn’t even try. 

in fact. i did. even before she went MIA, fully on social media, i sent her direct messages everywhere. she never replied to any of them. 

and i knew no one that had her phone number. and soon enough, no one had heard from her in three years. 

and now she’s back. more beautiful than ever. 

i needed to speak to her i couldn’t live with the guilt that stayed for these past three years. 

my fans, my so called supporters made her life a living hell and i almost did nothing to stop it. 

i’m sure she hates me. but i have to try somehow, right?

question is, she didn’t have a social media anymore, and i can’t just speak to her now that she was sitting opposite my table. 

i kept on pondering as i heard a little bit of her conversation, about her life. 

i guess she moved to australia, and worked in a lawfirm in the outskirts. so unpredictable of her. no one would’ve guessed that in a million years. 

i watched as i see her smile as she listened to what her parents were saying. 

i cherished the smile since i didn’t know when was the next time i’d see her. 

she asked the waiter for the bill, covering the whole cost of her and her huge family’s meal. 

damn, this girl is too rich for her own good. 

she puts down the bill on the table, also leaving a generous tip for the waiter that served them. she stood up to walk after her family, needing to pass my table. 

since she had been oblivious to her surroundings, i didn’t expect her to spot us, to notice us. 

but i was wrong. 

PART 2

[tteokggukk]

welcome to my youtube channel → kth

✳ pairing: idol!taehyung x youtuber!reader

✳ genre: fluff, taehyung scenario, stranger to lovers, reader is an artist who posts art videos on youtube

✳ warnings: none!

✳ words: 2.9k

✳ a/n: hello, this is my second bts oneshot/scenario. i just like to write for fun but if you’d like to let me know if there’s anything i can improve on please do so! i’d love to know how to improve. anyways, i hope you enjoy!

"Hey guys, welcome to my YouTube Channel."

You spoke in front of the camera. Sets of acrylic paint were spread out across the table next to a stand that held an 18x24 inch canvas. You were in the middle of making your seventeenth video, a highly requested one at that, and deep down you were ecstatic to start working on the painting.

Never in your life did you think you would ever start a YouTube account. You always considered yourself a very shy and private person, not one to go out of their way and broadcast themselves all over the internet. Your best friends, however, were two very well-known YouTubers and always found a way to include you in their videos and live streams. Somehow people liked seeing more of you, and so you were convinced by your best friends and the audience to start your own YouTube channel.

But you weren't very accustomed to bringing a camera everywhere with you to document and share whatever was happening in your daily life, you found it too awkward and you were still camera-shy, so you decided to create content in a way that would still keep you comfortable while doing something you loved.

An art channel.

Your channel blew up pretty fast. Requests started pouring in here and there. You became known for your very calm demeanor and artistic skills, so you took this as an opportunity to sell your works online as a way to earn some extra money for your future. Occasionally, you'd do lives to talk to your fans and you were happy at the support they showed you, which only encouraged you to keep making videos.

"This was a highly requested video, and I honestly can't wait to get started," you told the camera, mentally telling yourself to insert the comments and messages you got in your DMs to paint this Adonis-like human being. The requests started coming in after you had an Instagram live where you did some quick sketches while playing some of your favorite songs in the back, and people noticed one of the songs you played was by him.

"You guys also asked if I could sell this painting, but because of the "high demand"," you spoke, adding air quotes, "I'd like to keep it up for auction so the proceeds could go to different fundraisers."

You started mixing different colors in your palette and showed everyone the picture for your reference.

"So, without further ado, today I will be painting Kim Taehyung."

"Hey guys, welcome to my YouTube Channel."

Taehyung watched as you spoke in the video, looking behind you to see a bunch of art materials. The title of the video was left ambiguously, only being named most requested video, leaving him no clue on what it was you were going to create this time.

He's been watching your videos for quite some time now, ever since your channel started rising. Art was one of his major interests and he absolutely adored the way you made your videos with the calming, ASMR-like sound of mixing paint and how you skillfully glided the brush across the canvas. On days when he found himself tired and in need of a quick way to relax, he'd subconsciously find himself binge watching videos on your channel— even repeating several videos since you were only starting. He found it fascinating, but also because he found you interesting.

Because of your channel, he even created an anonymous YouTube account just to leave nice comments on your videos along with a private Instagram account to be able to watch your lives.

Needless to say, he didn't miss that one live where you played the song Winter Bear. It made his whole night, making him sleep with a smile on his face.

"This was a highly requested video, and I honestly can't wait to get started." 

He watched as a bunch of comments started appearing onscreen popping up one by one as they gradually got faster, eventually covering you. It took a moment before it sunk in that he was the highly requested person they wanted you to paint. He paused the video, wide-eyed, before shouting in excitement. Jimin had to come in and check what the whole commotion was about.

"Y/n's going to paint me!" Taehyung exclaimed, his mouth turning into his famous boxy smile. 

"Ah, the YouTuber you really like?" Jimin smiles before sitting down next to Taehyung who continued playing the video, "I wanna see."

"You guys also asked if I could sell this painting, but because of the "high demand", I'd like to keep it up for auction so the proceeds could go to different fundraisers."

"Wow, she seems really kind," Jimin says, while Taehyung only nods, his eyes glued to the screen.

"So, without further ado, today I will be painting Kim Taehyung."

He felt his heart beat fast when you mentioned his name, and without realizing it his ears have gone all red. 

On screen, you began sketching, "You guys have also been sending me a lot of questions lately, which is why I decided to tweet about doing a q&a."

"What questions did you ask?" Jimin asked Taehyung.

"I asked her if being an artist is something she'd like to pursue," Taehyung told him.

"Ooooh, trying to get to know her," Jimin teases, "Our little Taehyungie has a celebrity crush."

Taehyung rolls his eyes but breaks out into a grin anyway, "I just respect her artistry."

"Right, okay," Jimin snickers, obviously not buying it.

Taehyung knew he was telling the truth, though. It was impossible to have feelings for someone who you only knew through a screen. He found you attractive for sure, but he of all people would know that almost no one is completely one-hundred percent themselves on screen. Genuine as you may be, there are still things that are best kept to yourself. He couldn’t lie though, if given the chance to get to know you, he’d never pass up on that offer.

"Someone asked why I don't use that much ready-made paint," You spoke on screen, "It's ‘cause I learn a lot from mixing my own colors, and also I just really enjoy it."

The painting was beginning to come together halfway through the video and Taehyung's question finally made its way to you. "Kimyeontan95 asks, ‘is painting a career you want to pursue? I love your work, by the way’."

"That was basically I love you," Jimin holds back a laugh, earning him a light punch in the arm from Taehyung.

"Thank you so much, kimyeontan95, and no, painting is just a hobby of mine and a way to earn some future savings. I actually really want to be a novelist."

Taehyung smiled after hearing you answer his question. Later on, the video was over and his portrait was complete. He hurriedly redirected himself to the link that was provided for the auction.

Something in him wanted to have that painting no matter what, so he set himself as the highest bidder and eventually had it mailed to his home where he put your work up in his room to cherish.

A day after your video was posted, you woke up to a thousand notifications from your phone. Hundreds of people were mentioning you in tweets and you had numerous missed calls from your best friends and some texts telling you to check your online art shop. You groggily scroll through your feed, a bit confused as to what was happening.

I wanted to buy this painting and I had it in my list, but now it's unavailable!

Y'ALL WHAT RICH KID SET THE HIGHEST BID TO A MILLION DOLLARS IM CRYING

@yourtwittername are you planning to sell a new collection?

a million dollar bid wtf swownwowksodiowl

Someone just bought all of @yourtwitterusername's paintings. I'm crying in broke eye—

but like what if taehyung set that bid? @yourtwitterusername

What?

I just woke up and my mentions are pouring. What is going on? You tweeted.

Thousands of replies began coming in leaving you feeling overwhelmed and confused on where to start. Everyone was telling you to check your site, and so you did. You felt your heart almost stop beating when you saw that every single artwork you had up for sale were sold out. Nothing was left behind. You checked your emails, and the confirmations were there.

How could this have happened overnight?

ALL MY WORKS ARE SOLD OUT?!?!?!?? WHO COULDVE DONET THIS??? You tweeted, hands shaking.

You felt your heart race, a wide grin that could go even wider if possible was plastered on your face. You tried to stop yourself from screaming in excitement but couldn't so you ended up jumping up and down and doing happy dances before calming down to assess the situation. Finally, you sat down in front of your laptop to see where all your works were being shipped to.

Replies started coming in.

CONGRATS YOU FIGURED IT OUT

WILL U RESTOCK

AHSKWJOA CONGRATS BB

I'M SO HAPPY FOR U

BUT Y/N WHO BOUGHT THEM ALL

Checking your emails, you discover that your art works were all bought by one person. Anonymous. There was no name and someone requested to have their personal information redacted. 

Anonymous? Surely this wasn't a joke?

The person kept their name anonymous. You tweeted and muted the notifications just to allow yourself to focus on finding out who it was that bought everything.

At the bottom of all the removed personal information, there was one username that you were sure you've heard or seen somewhere.

@ Kimyeontan95. 

Underneath the username was a short but sincere message.

"Your videos have always helped me wind down after a long, busy day. I can't express how much you inspire me with your talent and how I wish someday you'd teach me to be half as good as you, as I'm not very gifted in the painting department. I admire how you put your gifts into good things, and I very much idolize you in one way or another. This is just a small way of showing my support for you, but also because all your works are amazing and I'd love to have a small room filled with my favorite art works. I look forward to reading works of yours soon, future novelist.”

Feeling the heat creeping up on your cheeks, you smiled to yourself. The letter was definitely heartfelt and you wanted so badly to thank the person who sent it.

Later that afternoon, you decided to go on live to personally thank the anonymous buyer for buying your works and for sending that wonderful note. You fixed yourself up a little bit and pressed live as thousands of your followers began to tune in.

"Hello, everyone," you greeted, smiling. Replies with greetings started coming in and you couldn't help but chuckle at the eager messages your followers were sending. They truly made you happy.

As expected, several questions began pouring in.

"Right, so, I wanted to do this live because of what happened. As you may have noticed, all my works were suddenly sold out which definitely took me by surprise," you started, "Unfortunately the buyer left everything anonymous. They only left what I assume is a username and a short letter, which I will keep to myself for personal reasons."

@follower1WHAT

@follower2 will you keep selling your works?

@follower3 THATS SUCH A SWEET GESTURE THO OMG/

@follower4 am I the only one who thinks a secret admirer bought it

@follower5 check my YouTube channel I made a theory on who bought her works

@follower6 i rlly think it's taehyung

@follower7 I’'m so proud of you :(((

"If the person who bought all of my paintings is watching this, I really want to thank you from the bottom of my heart. I appreciate the letter as well, you've honestly made me the happiest person on Earth," you smiled.

@follower8 AWWWWW

@follower9 ANON COME OUT

@follower10 i really wanna know what the letter says

@ Kimyeontan95 I'm glad :)

Your heart stopped at one of the replies. You took your phone immediately from its fixed position with wide eyes and began scrolling up fast because of the immediate replies coming in. Wasn't that the username?

@follower11 what's going on?

@follower12 y/n are you okay?

You could no longer find the reply so you set your phone down, fixing it back in place.

"For a second I thought the person who bought it was watching my live," you sighed and smiled nervously, "So anyways— I'd really love to express my gratitude so if they're watching, please contact me. I can't say thank you en—"

Suddenly the replies were frantic. People were sending keyboard smashes here and there. Only a few of them were actual coherent comments. "What is going on?" You asked as you began scrolling through.

@follower13 Y/N CHECK VLIVE

@follower14 TaEHYUNF IS ON LIVE

@follower15 I kNEW IT THOUGH???

@follower16 Y/N CHECK TAEHYUNGS LIVE

@follower5 Y'ALL I WAS RIGHT I SAID CHECK MY YT

Keeping your live on, you grabbed your laptop as fast as you could to check out the links being sent to your live. When it finally loaded, you could've sworn you'd have a heart attack. 

"Oh, I think she's watching me," Taehyung grinned through his live, holding his phone in front of the camera. He quickly shows the viewers his phone screen, which showed your live of you watching him through your laptop. Your eyes widened and you looked back at your phone camera that was broadcasting your live, then back at his live.

Taehyung started giggling, "I guess we're just watching each other, huh?" He smiled. Behind him were packed and unpacked parcels of paintings you recognized were yours. If it was even possible, your eyes grew even wider at this, "Oh my god," you breathed out.

"I should probably introduce myself," Taehyung spoke, "Hello everyone, I'm Kim Taehyung. How are you all doing? Today I’m planning on redecorating my room after our practice. What are the packages behind me? Oh, these are paintings I recently bought."

"Are those my paintings?" You asked out loud, though you knew the answer. 

"Are those my paintings?" Your voice echoed from Taehyung's broadcast as your live was streaming from his phone. He grinned sheepishly, "Yes, these are your works, I hope you don't mind."

"Not at all," You smiled, "You were the buyer?" 

You mentally slapped yourself for asking such obvious questions, but you just couldn't believe everything that was happening now.

"Yes," he chuckles, "I really love your paintings." Suddenly the sound of Jimin’s voice echoed from behind and Taehyung quickly stood up to lock the door, knowing he’d get the teasing of a lifetime if Jimin came and saw him talking to you.

"Thank you so much, I—" Your voice began to crack and your eyes welled with tears that you tried to fight back, "I really appreciate it. And the letter, that was really sweet."

"No, thank you. Wait, don't cry—" Taehyung spoke nervously.

"I'm just so happy," You laughed while wiping the tears off.

The replies from both ends were coming in like crazy. On one hand, majority of everyone watching found the whole scenario cute and started pairing you two out of nowhere, though there were a few haters on the other. It didn't really bother you, you were just so happy someone you idolized noticed your work.

"I'm glad," he was watching you with a fond smile through his phone, then the sound of the Jin’s voice began coming from outside Taehyung’s room, "Sorry for this sudden grand reveal. I really can't stay on live for too long but I'd love to keep talking to you." He spoke.

"Oh no, that's okay," You spoke fast.

"Do you mind if I send you a message? Assuming you already know the username," he asks.

"No not at all, I'd love to keep talking as well," your heart was beating erratically now. You didn't have to see your face to know how red it was becoming.

"Alright, great. Um, before I end this vlive I just wanna say you're a great artist and to all my viewers watching this, please support y/n's artworks and her channel! If I see any negative comments, I'll be taking responsibility and I'll unfortunately have my agency involved in taking those out," he spoke in a commercial tone kind of voice, "And to y/n, I'll be keeping in touch.” The door from behind him suddenly bursts open and Jin, Jimin, and Jungkook rush inside.

“You were talking to her!” Jimin shouts excitedly.

“Finally!” Jungkook claps.

“Is that why you kept the door locked?” Jin teases.

“Bye, everyone!" Taehyung quickly waves goodbye to the camera and smiles before turning the broadcast off. 

You sat there stunned, almost forgetting you were also on live. You turned to your phone which was still recording you, "That was unexpected."

Suddenly, a notification in your DMs popped up. "I'll go ahead and process everything that just happened now, bye guys! See you in my next video." You ended the live with a wave and smile.

You quickly went into your direct messages and found the same username, Kimyeontan95. You opened it and found a picture of Taehyung holding one of your paintings with a peace sign on his other hand, the other members behind him posing with your other works, making you laugh.

Your heart fluttered at the message below the picture.

I hope this isn't too sudden, but would you like to go out with me sometime?

a/n: hello! if you finished it, thank you so much for reading! i hope you liked it hehe. i think i’m gonna keep posting the stuff i write bc i have so many ideas for the other members as well. also this is fun hehe. if you wanna read my other work, let’s fall in love for the night, ← here’s a link! thanks again for reading and please look forward to my future writing/edits.

[memxntomxri]

ｌｏｎｅｌｙ ｔｏｇｅｔｈｅｒ

ꜱᴇʀɪᴇꜱ ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ | ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ | ʜᴏᴍᴇ

𝘱𝘢𝘪𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 - kuroo tetsurou x kozume kenma

𝘨𝘦𝘯𝘳𝘦 - fluff, comfort

𝘥𝘦𝘴𝘤 - kenma has a breakdown over haters on the internet. kuroo comforts him.

𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘥 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘵 - 1.4k

��𝘸 - online people being assholes, panic attacks, referenced stalker-ish behaviors

𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘦𝘴 - fluff to make up for day 1's fic. thank you for discord server friends (LouEve_094, Lena) who listened to me screech while writing this.

｡o°✥✤✣ 　　 ✣✤✥°o｡

Kuroo’s assistant, Takahashi, tentatively stuck his head into the conference room, where Kuroo was currently listening to a pitch about doing a joint press venture with the baseball league. It was interesting, but not enough that he didn’t notice his assistant’s frantic finger-pointing and beckoning.

Kuroo murmured a quiet “Sorry” and excused himself from the table, stepping out to converse with Takahashi. Takahashi wouldn’t bother Kuroo unless it wasn’t urgent.

“Sorry, sir, but I’m so glad Suzuki-san informed me about the situation, I—” he began. Kuroo held up a hand. Takahashi was trustworthy and brilliant with a spreadsheet program, but he could also run on for hours if one didn’t force him to cut to the chase.

“Takahashi, what exactly happened?” Kuroo said. Takahashi shot him a confused look, then his eyes widened almost comically.

“Kuroo-san, did you not see your ring?” he asked. In their world, because of some god’s whim or something, everyone was born with a ring tattoo on their right ring finger. It acted like some sort of mood ring… for your soulmate. Blue meant sadness, red meant anger, green meant disgust or jealousy, yellow happiness, gold pride, so on, so forth. When you met them, the ring would flare a bright, distinctive color. Kuroo had been fortunate enough to witness his flare as a measly 8-year-old, and Kenma had been stuck with him ever since.

Kuroo automatically glanced down at his right hand. Shit, he cursed. It was black all the way through—that was not good. That meant that something had set off Kenma’s panic attacks—a bad one, because Kuroo couldn’t see the swirls of grey that meant that his fiancée wasn’t completely lost yet—and Kuroo felt horrible for not noticing.

Takahashi gulped. Kuroo had momentarily forgotten that his assistant existed. “There’s more, Kuroo-san.” he said warily, as if approaching a wild animal.

“What?” Kuroo snapped, then shook his head quickly. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to do that.” Takahashi smiled gently, a reassuring one meant to placate Kuroo’s wild emotions. “It’s okay, Kuroo-san. Um… are you sure you want to know what’s going on with Kozume-san?” he grimaced. It must be bad for Takahashi, of all people, to be making negative facial expressions. “Just tell me.” Kuroo barked. He winced. “Sorry, didn’t mean that either.”

Takahashi replied, “It’s alright. Anyways, it seems that when Kozume-san beat out that beauty youtuber, Alice007, for the first Japanese Youtuber to get 10 million subscribers today, she went on a tangent on Twitter and caused a lot of her fans to start attacking Kozume-san. They… also mentioned you.”

Kuroo’s head whipped up. “What?”

“Apparently, Alice-san’s sister went to Nekoma High too and believed that she was your soulmate. If the tweets are any indication, both of them are a little, forgive me for saying this in a professional setting, delusional.” he said apologetically. Kuroo wanted to laugh and cry at the same time. On one hand, the love of his life was being torn down online. On the other hand, Takahashi was finally saying something negative about a human being.

Kuroo tipped his head back.

“Well, I’m heading home. Sorry for flaking out on the meeting, but can you please tell them a brief summary of what’s going on? Don’t go into too much detail though, Kenma values his privacy.” he requested. Takahashi nodded. God, Kuroo was lucky to have his assistant. “Thanks, Takahashi, you’re a lifesaver. Why don’t you take Friday night out and take Mizuki-san,” Takahashi’s 158cm tall spitfire soulmate who always seemed to have an infinite supply of dirty jokes, “out on a date?”

Takahashi allowed a small smile to break his professional face. “That would be very nice, Kuroo-san. Thank you. Now go, Kozume-san needs you.” he said, shooing Kuroo down the hall towards the elevators.

For someone who acted so demure while working, Takahashi sure could be forceful when he wanted to.

｡ₓ ू ₒ ु ˚ ू ₒ ु ₓ｡

Kuroo nudged the door to his and Kenma’s two-bedroom (one was Kenma’s streaming room) open. His arms were laden with bags from the nearby grocery store, filled with Kenma’s favorite comfort foods, a few new video games, and a box of prescription meds for his anxiety that Kenma had slowly moved on from.

“Kenma?” he called down the hallway. No response, except for sounds of muffled sobbing coming from their bedroom. Kuroo kicked off his shoes and set the bags down, heading down the hall to investigate.

He cracked open the door a few centimeters, and there Kenma was, curled up in a ball on the king-sized mattress, phone an arm’s length away, screen cracked. Kuroo tracked his eyes to the correspondingly-sized dent in the wall. He walked in, sitting down next to Kenma’s prone form, but not touching him.

“Hey, kitten.” he greeted quietly. Kenma reached for his sleeve, rubbing his hand twice, up, down, on Kuroo’s wrist. Ah. That was the signal for when he had gone nonverbal but wanted Kuroo to give him physical and verbal affection.

Kuroo scooped Kenma up into his arms, tucking him into his lap as he rested his chin on top of Kenma’s head. “I’m sorry people are being assholes, Kenma. I hope you don’t believe them, because they sure as hell aren’t true.” Small hiccups as more tears ran down Kenma’s face.

That was alright. Sometimes, Kenma just needed someone to hold him and tell him that he was alright.

“I bought that game you wanted. Overcooked? Yeah, that was its name. We can try it out when you feel up to it. Maybe invite Akaashi and Bokuto over. Chibi-chan and Kageyama too, if they’re in Tokyo.” Kuroo continued.

“You know, all these people love you, Kenma. It doesn’t matter what people online think, especially when they’re just following a deranged leader.” Kuroo reassured him.

Kenma looked up at him questioningly. Kuroo sighed. “Yeah, I heard. I have no idea who Alice-san’s sister is,” he said in response to Kenma’s silent question, “besides, I trust our parents and our own memories more than some beauty guru who can’t take being beaten.” he scoffed.

Kenma took a few deep breaths, a sign that he was slowly calming down. Kuroo rubbed comforting circles down his back. “T-Tetsu.” he murmured. “Am I a bad soulmate because I’m not that affectionate?”

Kuroo jolted, then cupped his hands gently around Kenma’s face, leaning down to press a light kiss to his lips. “No, Kenma, never. I know you love me, and you know I wouldn’t have you any other way. You’re my kitten, remember?” he reminded. Kenma nodded slowly. Good. Kuroo breathed a slight sigh of relief in his mind. It had been months since he had needed to do this.

Kenma continued, speaking even quieter. “Will everyone leave me? Am I going to be lonely in the end?” he asked. Kuroo’s heart ached. He knew that that had always been one of Kenma’s insecurities—that his aloofness would drive people away from him. “Kenma, if you’re alone, then I’ll be alone with you.” Kuroo said resolutely.

Kenma broke down into a few sobs, hopefully getting it out of his system. “T-Tetsu, they found our address.” Kuroo froze. “What?” Kenma nodded. “Yeah. S-someone sent me a red paint-stained picture of me with a knife stabbed through my f-forehead.” he struggled to get out.

“Shh, shh, Kenma, I’m here now. Don’t force yourself if you don’t want to talk.” Kuroo reassured.

Shit. They had both known that this could become a probability when Kenma had started getting famous, and they had been lucky for a few years, but someone finding out at this moment was just bad luck.

Kuroo wrapped his arms tighter around Kenma’s smaller frame. “Don’t worry, kitten, I’ll protect you. Always and forever, remember?” he said with a cheeky smile, pointing at the band (the metal one) around Kenma’s left ring finger.

Kenma’s quiet, melodic chuckle filled the air.

Kuroo chanced a glance down at his right ring finger. It was still dark and murky, but there were traces of pink and a pale color that he hoped was yellow. It wasn’t back to usual, but they were getting there.

｡ₓ ू ₒ ु ˚ ू ₒ ु ₓ｡

A few hours later…

Curled up on the couch, Kenma fiddled away at his PSP. Kuroo plopped down next to him, holding two steaming cups of chamomile tea. “Tetsu, I placed an order for a new phone.” Kenma said, not looking up from the phone.

“Oh also, you’re still going to have to pay half the rent for our new apartment. I’m not going to be your sugar daddy, no matter how much you beg.” Kenma deadpanned.

Kuroo snorted. Nothing ever really changed with his Kenma.

｡o°✥✤✣ 　　 ✣✤✥°o｡

© ʙᴇᴛʜᴇʏᴅᴏᴄʀɪᴍᴇᴡʀɪᴛᴇꜱ 2021 - ᴘʟᴇᴀꜱᴇ ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴄᴏᴘʏ ᴏʀ ʀᴇᴘᴏꜱᴛ ᴡɪᴛʜᴏᴜᴛ ᴄʀᴇᴅɪᴛ

[heartbreakgrill]

Did You Get the Sensation Today? (Flirting in Walmart, Pt. 3); Calum Hood

a/n: yeah❤️

description: you’re the opening act for 5sos and your boyfriend is the bass player. just cute and fluffy.

“Y/N! How’s the metronome in your ear?”

You fumbled with your earpiece, only looking up from where your eyes were boring into the floor because of the voice resounding around the room. Your eyes lifted to glance in the general area of the sound technician and your ears began to focus on the beeping in your left ear.

“Good!” You mumbled into your microphone. “Little more, like 1 notch.”

He turned it up and you nodded. “Thanks!”

You went back to twisting the wire around the ear piece, struggling to get it to stay out of the curve of your lobe. You jumped when you felt warm hands move yours away and adjust the wire.

“Hey, love, s’just me,” Cal spoke through a soft smile, “did I scare ya?”

“Yeah, I didn’t even know you’d gotten here yet,” you grinned, looking to him. You tossed your arms around his neck and pulled him down to your level.

He kissed you gently, fingers moving to cradle your jaw and waist carefully. You tugged yourself away and removed your hands, not wanting to make any of the crew uncomfortable with your affection. Cal reached to squeeze your hand before walking away, most likely to the dressing room.

You wrapped up with the sound guy, sang through a portion of your songs, and were sent away to retrieve the boys for their turn. You giddily pranced down the hallway, reaching their door quickly.

You knocked before shoving your hands into the back pockets of your jeans. You waited three seconds before Michael opened the door. Moose ran out and circled around your feet.

You cooed at him as you moved into the room. Nickelback was, of course, playing, and Ashton was drumming his heart on his drum pads. He stopped to wave at you before wiping away a beat of sweat on his forehead and jumping back in.

Luke was sat in front of a mirror, examining his eyes, which Sierra had been helping him learn to put makeup on. She sat next to him, giggling at something he said. Crystal wasn’t here, most likely catching up on sleep, and Calum was on the couch. His leg was tucked under the other, Converse-clad foot tapping against carpeted floor. You hadn’t even noticed his outfit earlier, but now you were pleased with the black skinny jeans and green Empathy hoodie.

You moved to him, grinning wider now, and plopped beside him. He looked up from his phone and smiled at you. “Hey, lovie.”

He reached out a hand, cupping your cheek. Calum kissed you as your hand balanced against his forearm.

“Hey,” you separated, bit your lip as a blush painted your expression. “How was press?”

“Good. The same old, but today we actually played a fun game with reading Tweets from fans,” he began.

You moved so you were facing him, hugging your knees to your chest. Nonchalantly, he pulled your legs over his lap; “Someone asked if we were dating. And then in another interview, the lady asked if I was still single.”

You tilted your head as it leaned against your palm. “Did you tell them?”

“Slightly,” he scrunched up his face. “I said that I was seeing someone. But I didn’t wanna violate your privacy without your permission.”

You shrugged, and tugged one of his hands into your lap, “I think you should. Honestly, let’s post an Instagram photo right now.”

“Yeah?” He said, excitedly.

“Mhm,” you flicked your brows up with assurance.

He picked his phone up again, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. Calum flushed your side against his, pressing his cheek to yours. You didn’t even have to smile because one was already grinning on your lips. Calum took one like that, then kissed your cheek. In the third, his fingers pushed up your tshirt and tickled the skin. You laughed loudly, shoving your face into his neck. He texted the photos to you, then opened Instagram.

“sending love from my girl and i”

You opened the tag notification and automatically liked it. The caption made your heart swoon. You grabbed his face by the chin and kissed him again.

“Go to sound check, you absolute sweetheart.”

The boys all left you and Sierra to a silent room, Luke having turned off Nickelback for the time being. She sunk into the couch next to you with a sigh.

“How ya doing?” She asked, raising her eyebrows curiously.

You breathed deeply and responded, “Falling. Fast.”

She laughed, “I noticed. You okay with it?”

“Ya know, I think I am,” you looked her straight in the eye and nodded. “Wanna come help me get ready?”

“Yes!”

You abandoned the boys’ room for your own, slightly smaller dressing room. It was right next door, fit with a small couch, a vanity, and a an unopened rack of your clothing. You took a seat at the vanity, Sierra plopping into the couch again. “Helping” you get ready meant choosing music, curling the pieces of hair you couldn’t reach, and picking out shoes that matched your belt.

Tonight’s outfit was red fishnets, a black corduroy skirt, and a shirt which you still hadn’t figured out. You were half dressed, even in your platform combat boots, tearing through the rack in search of a shirt. Nothing was fitting your taste, and you were slightly frustrated. Sierra had long since left to find water, which you had drank the last of in your dressing room.

You pulled on your other tshirt and walked to the boys’ dressing room. They had just gotten back, though Ashton and Michael were apparently still doing something onstage. Luke was picking through his rack and Calum was at his own things, shirtless, still in his black skinny jeans.

“Hey, again,” Luke laughed at your appearance. “You ready?”

“Always!” You grinned. “I love doing smaller crowds.”

“Same,” Luke replied before going back to his things.

Calum sent you a wave while continuing to go through his rack. “You look cute tonight. I love the fishnets.”

“Thanks,” you sighed, “they’re new.”

“What’s wrong?” He turned to you, leaning against the crate with his arm.

You stuck your hands on your hips, “I didn’t buy a shirt to go with it.”

Calum hummed in response. He looked you up and down, tapped his chin, and turned back to his things. He flicked through hangers before pulling out your favorite shirt of his.

“Wanna borrow this?” He held it out to you.

Your eyes widened, along with your lips. You hesitantly reached for the hanger, “Really?”

He shrugged. “Yeah. It matches pretty well. And you look good in my things, so. It might be big, but if you tie it in a knot at the front, it’ll work.”

You took it from him before launching forward to give him a big kiss. “Thanks so much. Love you.”

You were out the door before he could respond or you could process what you just said. Luke grinned at his hands, tossing his head over to look at Cal.

“You good?”

Calum was bright red, from the tips of his tattoos to the curve of his ears, his skin was warm and his stomach tingley.

“I-“ he held up his hands in question. “I just...I would’ve said it back. But she...” he whistled. Calum shook his head and returned to finding a shirt.

You didn’t see Calum again until after your set. You could tell the vast majority of the fans recognized the shirt- it was a small show- and you enjoyed getting to tease their minds with the idea. In general, you felt so confident in his shirt, smelling of his cigarettes and cologne and your own coconut perfume.

You knew he was watching, swung your hips more during the curves of your songs. At the end, you thanked everyone and strutted off. You b-lined for Calum once your mic was given to a stage hand.

He covered you in his hands, kisses, the silk of his button up all you saw as his lips molded into your own.

“I love you, too. Oh, and please wear my shirt more often.”

TAG LIST: @dinosaursandsocks @everydayimfangirling @truly-charmed @wallows-spring @oopsiedoopsie23 @cuddlyklaus @mantlereid , @boxofteenageideas , @ashhdaniellee95 @stephaniemelville-blog @zhangyixingxing1

[andiandyandee]

Chicanery- Preface

All Janus needs is someone to pay for his groceries and keep a roof over his head. A family is not in the plans.

Or Alternatively: 

Logan And Patton have decided that this particular teenager is theirs, now.

 “It is unfair to presume that this meeting will be ‘the one’, Patton.” Logan sighed gently at his husband, placing a hand on his knee. “I know you are excited, but we do not want to overwhelm them. Besides, out of all of the children we have met with, this one is the least likely to fit the nonsensical parameters you seem to have set. They are nearly six years older than the original ‘max-age’ you had mentioned, and beyond that, the social workers have said the child is not actively looking for an adoptive family so much as they are looking for a place to age out of the system.” Patton pouted.

   “This feels like it’s going to be the one, Lo. Something about this one feels right.”  Logan had heard that tone before when they had been looking for a house, when they picked a shade of paint for the bedroom, and when they had found the location for Patton’s bakery. Though he hadn’t been convinced before, he suddenly also felt like this was going to be the child they adopted, even if only because Patton was too stubborn to pick anyone else.

    “Well, I suppose we should at the very least introduce ourselves to them before informing them that you’ve metaphorically called dibs,” Logan replied dryly. Patton just winked at him, sliding out of the car and dusting off his khakis.

    The child they were meeting was just shy of 16 and had been in the system for the majority of their life. Their name was Janus, and they were apparently incredibly intelligent, both academically and emotionally, which had been why the Social worker had sent their file in the first place. Patton and Logan stepped in tandem into the meeting room, catching the first glimpse at Janus, who was leaning concerningly far back in their chair, black boots crossed and on the table, reading what appeared to be a well worn and well-loved copy of Oscar Wilde’s works, the title story being “The Importance of Being Earnest”.

    “Hello, Mr. and Dr. Sanders,” Janus said without looking up from their book. They did lean back into a more normal sitting position, feet swinging back down to the floor and their hand reaching for a bookmark sitting next to them on the table. “My name is Janus. He/Him.” As he tucked the bookmark into the book, he glanced up at the two of them, a well-practiced smile on his lips. They had both seen his photo, so they weren’t surprised at the heterochromatic eyes scrutinizing them, but they both still straightened a bit at the gaze.

    “My name is Logan, He/Him. This is my Husband, Patton.”

    “I use He/ Him too! It’s nice to meet you, kiddo!”

    “The pleasure is mine, I assure you. Please, sit. The social workers will be in soon, they went to get coffee and almost certainly got distracted,” Janus let out an airy laugh and gestured at the chairs in front of him. “I’m surprised that we’re meeting, actually. I’ve been told you tend to fister much younger children, often for quite a while. I don’t think I really fit your standard parameters.” Logan raised an eyebrow.

    “You know about who we’ve fostered?”

    “Yes, of course. Similarly to how you research the children you take in, I research potential foster homes. I have been in the system for a long time, Mr. Sanders. I know many of the children you’ve fostered, and I know you’ve helped place many of them with the families that eventually adopted them. I likely know just as much about you as you know about me.” Logan nodded appreciatively.

    “It is intelligent to research the people’s homes you may be staying in. I am curious as to what you know, though. Neither Patton nor myself have much social media, so I don’t presume there’s much about us available online.”

    “All nine of Patton’s research papers are available to read online, as well as the social media page for his bakery. Which is a very interesting shift, by the way. You simply must tell me how you went from being a Neurologist to a baker.” Patton smiled and nodded, and Janus looked back to Logan. “You have two decades worth of students who have posted about you on social media, and your brother has an active Twitter and Instagram in which he posts photos of you and tweets about your conversations occasionally. I also believe he may have a Tumblr but the website’s so long dead I cannot for the life of me figure out how to navigate it.” Janus smiled again, and this time Logan could see just a bit of smugness behind it. “You, Logan, are a faux no-nonsense Chemistry teacher who is in fact, very prone to nonsense. Your students adore you and you have been the jumping-off point of nearly 40 current STEM majors’ passions in science in the last 3 years alone. You, Patton, love puns and people, are an excellent baker, double majored in Neurology and Psychology, have a doctorate in both, and run an incredibly successful bakery which has three locations, that from current estimation pulls almost as much, if not more, than what you probably were making as a doctor. Based on meeting you I can assume Logan, you are slightly more socially awkward and make up for it by trying to put yourself out there more, and Patton, you’re clearly an introvert who tries very hard to be an extrovert. You’re wonderful people I’m sure, and you’re clearly looking to adopt a child as your own, but I, unfortunately, am not that child. I am not looking to be adopted, I just need somewhere I can set up a desk and a bed and a pair of noise-canceling headphones until I can leave for college and live on my own. If you are interested in fostering someone who will be willing to help in your bakery so I can build up some income, or if you are looking for someone to help with raising or taking care of younger wards, including feeding and helping with homework, I believe I would be an excellent addition to your dynamic.” Logan was a little startled at how formal the teenager had become, and it suddenly felt a lot more like a job interview than it did anything else. Patton glanced over at Logan, a bit of amusement twinkling in his eye.

    “Well, kiddo, if you don’t want to be adopted that’s absolutely your choice, and we are of course willing to bring you into our home. We don’t currently have anyone else in the house, just us, but if you do want to work in the bakery we’re always looking for extra help in our main location! But you have a choice in this, you don’t just have to agree to live with us because you feel obligated. You won't hurt our feelings if it doesn’t feel like a good fit.” Janus gave Patton a coy smile.

    “It seems an excellent fit to me.”

-

Tag List! @datfearlessfangirl @princemesscharming @illogicalthinking @holliberries

[justasparkwritings]

The Word of Your Body: Unpretty {1}

Pairing: Namjoon X Reader

Genre: Angst / Slice of Life

Rating: PG15

Word Count: 2.1k

Warnings: Swearing, Body Insecurity, Beauty Standards, Vulnerability 

Listening: Unpretty by TLC  

Master List

           Your face fell as you sat on the couch in your hotel room, staring at the picture you had asked Taehyung to take of you and Namjoon. You didn’t have any photos of you and your boyfriend, largely because paparazzi and Army didn’t know you existed. Which is how it had to be, and how you wanted it to be. But staring at the two of you, his arm around your waist, smile across his lips, you just stared.

           “It’s a cute photo,” Namjoon said, plopping down next to you.

           “Is it?” You asked, swiping to bring up the next photo. “Oh god,” You said in disgust.

           “What’s wrong?” He asked, zooming in on the photo.

           “Look at us!” You said.

           “I see it, I like it,” He said glancing away from your phone.

           “Well, yeah because you look hot 100% of the time,” You said, swiping to the next one. “Why did he take so many, and all of them suck?”

           “You look beautiful 100% of the time, and those photos don’t suck.”

           “No, I don’t,” You responded tossing her phone onto the couch.  

           “What is going on?” Namjoon asked, setting his phone on the coffee table and gingerly placing a leg underneath him so he could face you as you paced across the living room.

           “I look like, I look like a fucking whale,” You declared. The tears began prickling at the corners of your eyes and you blinked quickly to try and dissipate them.

           “Babe, you look beautiful,” He reassured.

           “Joon, stop.” You said, voice trembling.

           “I don’t know where this is coming from,” He replied, staring at you. His eyebrows were knitted together, unsure what his next move was supposed to be.

           “I just, I was looking forward to a cute photo of us, our first nice one, not stolen when you’re half asleep or doing something cute… Instead, I feel blind sighted by you and the whole fucking world,” That’s when the dam broke, tears cascading down your cheeks. You quickly wiped them on the sleeves of your favorite sweatshirt. It was baggy, ragged from a decade’s worth of comforting you in the darkest moments, it’s crinkling writing showing its age. Luckily the black sleeves didn’t show the betrayal you felt towards your body.

           “How did the world get brought into our photo?” He asked, still trying to find his place in your disdain.

           “Namjoon, what happens when the world sees us together? What happens when they know about me?”

           “I don’t know, they’ll be happy,” He answered. He’d thought about it, in terms of his contract and protecting her privacy. But the world seeing a photo of them? Wouldn’t they just be focused on how beautiful she is?

           “No, Joon. Part of Army will be happy. Part of them, a small part, will be encouraging others to be happy because you’re happy. The rest will be commenting on me,” You inhaled, trying not to deter your thoughts with the recognition you’re entering into a Kerry Washington style monologue. “They will be commenting on how I look. On how I dress, on why you don’t buy me nicer clothes. They’ll be sharing post after post about how you, Prince Namjoon, leader of their beloved, beloved, BTS, could be hand in hand with a woman like me.” You took in another quick breath, knowing if you breathed again a sob world overtake your entire body.

           “Babe let’s not think the worst,” Namjoon said, scanning your face for a sign of what he could do to help. He always thought Taehyung and Jung Kook were the most helpless members of BTS. He knew full well that many others thought he should be added to that group, particularly when it came to love and romance. Watching you pace, watching you try to hold in your cries, reminded him that they were right: he was clueless.  

           “It’s the truth, Joon! What do you think will happen?”

           “I, I don’t know,” He sighed. Admitting he hadn’t thought about it was worse than admitting he knew the reality. “I just want to protect you.”

           “They’re going to eviscerate me,” You stated.

           “No, they’re not,”

           “I’m a plus sized, biracial American. I don’t know what the Korean war was about, but Miss Saigon traumatized me as a child.”

         “Isn’t that about Vietnam? Madame Butterfly is Vietnam,” Namjoon held back a laugh.  

         “See! I don’t speak Korean. I clearly don’t understand the culture! I barely understand your music. I’m not white enough, I’m not black enough, I’m for sure not Korean enough. I have spent my entire life knowing that I have to work twice as hard to be thought of as half as good. Even then, my opportunities are given to me because I fit a quota, or I sound white enough to pass.”

         “Those are so many of the reasons I like you so much, I mean, not the passing part, I don’t know much about that,” Namjoon trailed off as he realized he probably needed to become more educated in African American history, at least to understand his girlfriend.

         “It doesn’t matter, Namjoon.”

         “Why doesn’t it? I think you’re beautiful. I think you are sexy and honestly, it’s a fact. The fact is, you are beautiful. Stunning, your eyes, your heart…”

         “Do you know what it’s like to feel unpretty? To feel ugly?” You asked, arms tight across your chest.

         “I, yes,” He said.

         “To be told by every film, every magazine, every doctor, that your body is wrong. To walk through life with people giving you glances when you eat a cookie, wondering if you’re already diabetic, applauding you when you exercise, shaming you when you can’t fit into a size large. Do you know what it’s like, to try on clothes and realize they don’t carry a size that fits your body? And having to tell the sales associate that no, you don’t want the bigger size because it doesn’t exist?”

         “Babe, I’m so sorry,” Namjoon stared. He didn’t know the photo Taehyung took would open you bare.

         “To wear your retainer for 15 years to ensure your face is still pretty because your body isn’t?” You felt the sob before it roared out of you, tears sending you to your knees. You hadn’t planned on baring you soul to him or parading your insecurities around like a diamond engagement ring. It had just overwhelmed you, not just the photo, but the thought that someone could find it. You were confident that Big Hit was doing their job to ensure your safety, and Namjoon’s, but there were people out there bent on finding the cracks in BTS. The idea that a private moment, a photo you really did love, would be tossed around, sent to gossip mag after gossip mag, commented on by millions, crashed into you like a train. So here you sat, on the floor, tears and snot barreling down your face.

         “If they don’t tear me apart because I’m not Asian, they’re going to tear be apart because I’m a fucking size 18.”

           “Then, why don’t you work out with me?” He gasped the minute the words came out of his mouth and scrambled to sit next to you on the floor. “I didn’t,”

           “No, you didn’t.” You looked up at him, not realizing he was now next to you, arm beginning to pull you to him.  “I don’t want to fucking exercise with you. Look at you! Would you want to?” You made an excellent point, “Oh wait, you already do with the 6 other members of BTS. I saw the way they looked at me, Joon. When I first met them… They looked at me like I was another American stereotype. The fat black girl. And I’m fucking not,”

         “I know you’re not baby, you’re so strong, and flexible,” Namjoon said, peppering kisses on your cheek.

         “Don’t try to turn this into sex,” You responded, touching your ear to your shoulder in an attempt to sway him from kissing the exposed skin of his neck.

         “I’m sorry. I don’t know what to say other than I love your body.”

         “I love my body to,” You said.

         “I love that it houses you, your brain, your thoughts, your sense of rhythm, your laugh.” He smiled as he continued, “I love how it feels in my hands, cuddled next to me on the couch, your hand in mine. I love that it holds your heart, your kindness, your empathy, your deep understanding of others. I love that it holds me, when I need it, when I’m falling short, it never turns me away, no matter how long I’ve been gone from it.” He kissed your temple, grateful that you let him hold you so close.

         “I am really flexible,” You said, tilting your head to meet his lips.

         “You do Barre, which I have done twice and never again because I couldn’t walk the next day! You tap dance! I still don’t understand how you make those sounds with your feet. And, baby you sing.”

         “I can sing… Mostly,” You said nodding. Your singing was something Namjoon knew, and only Namjoon. You barely opened your mouth in front of the other members, unless it was to rap a song you knew 100%. That was one of the first things Namjoon had fallen in love with, the fact that you could spit Kendrick Lamar lyrics better than he could.

         “Your body is amazing,” He whispered.

         “Joon, I love my body. I love myself. I am my own best friend.”

         “I know, which is why I’m so lucky you share it with me,”

         “I’m smart as hell, I’m funny as shit. And, let’s not forget: my charm.”

         “So much charm, more than Jimin,” He said, smile creeping back onto his lips.

         “I’m not willing to open myself to criticism or put you in a position to defend me. I am strong on my own. I will not be shamed for my body or my looks or some superficial comment from someone I don’t know. But I’m scared that they, Army, columnists, paparazzi, media in general, is going to find a way to weasel its way into my psyche and make you see me differently or make me see myself differently. I’ve worked my entire life to love my body and I am scared that they will take it from me,” You said, the temporary drought having been good to your tear ducts, giving them time to refill their stores to surplus.

         “I know that feeling,” The crimson of his sweatshirt had leapt to paint streaks across his cheeks.

         “You do?” You whispered.

         “Of course. You haven’t read our contract… But we’ve been a band for over ten years? You’ve seen the tweets, you’ve seen the look changes, the outfits… I have spent ten years next to Taehyung and Jung Kook, not to mention Suga and Jimin or J-Hope. How can you forget Mr. Worldwide Handsome? I know what people say, I can’t help but hear it. At first, it was hard. It was hard to conform, to create an image that I didn’t feel like I belonged to. It’s still hard. What do I have going for me?”

         “Joon,” You kissed his cheek briefly.

         “I hear what you’re saying, about how others view you. They view me too, with criticism and judgement. Korean beauty standards are out of this world. I don’t have the features that they love, that they praise… And I know it. They make sure I know it. But I get to live my dream, I get to create music and support my family because of the band. I get to do it with my brothers, and it makes me feel strong, because I am,”

         “Do you feel sexy? Or handsome?” You asked.

         “Sometimes,” He said, interlocking your fingers.

         “Joon, babe,” You straightened your back, staring into his eyes.

         “I feel that way because you make me feel sexy and wanted. You like me no matter what my hair is, or what I’m wearing, or if I’ve spent two hours at the gym,” The crimson returned, this time in result of your kind words, and turned into a blush, gentle and sweet.

         “All those things you like about me?” You cooed, a hand under his chin, tilting it towards you.

         “Yeah?” He questioned, eyes meeting yours.

         “I like those things in you, too,” You said.

         “It’s hard though,” He responded.

         “Namjoon?” You asked.

         “Yes?”

         “Thank you,” You squinted your eyes, memorizing the way his expression relaxed.

         “For what?” He wondered.

         “For listening to my insecurities and not belittling them,” You said, squeezing his hand.

         “Honestly, I was worried I was fucking up the whole time,” He let out a chuckle.

         “No, you did great. And thank you for sharing yours with me.”

         “Thank you for listening,” He met your gaze.

         “In case you’re curious, you’re sexy as hell, and not only because your body is banging,” You said kissing him quickly and standing up.

         “Where are you going?”

         “I need to wash my face, too much snot and tears. You want to join me?”

Next: Strip

[notanacousticsetcal]

girl crush (lrh) - chapter three

summary - luke is 19 and 5sos is at the top of their game. daisy harlow is a solo artist becoming more popular by the day. daisy and luke “date” for publicity but some real feelings start to spark during their forced time together. the only problem? luke has a girlfriend.  

warnings - none! (for this chapter) basically just lots of nerves.

word count - 1.9k

a/n - I changed the perspective to 3rd person because it felt more fitting. I hope it doesn’t bother anyone and if it does please let me know! Thank you for reading :)

DAISY’S POV

“Rise and shine, sleepy head! Big day today.” 

Daisy groans and shoves the pillow over her head, pushing Virginia away from the bed. “When I gave you a key, I wasn’t thinking you’d be barging in here at the ass crack of dawn trying to ruin my beauty sleep.” 

Virginia laughs and pulls the pillow away from Daisy’s face. “Sweetie, it's not the ass crack of dawn. It's 11am and you’re gonna be late. Get up, we gotta go.” 

Daisy’s eyes shoot wide open. “11AM? Jesus Christ, why didn’t my alarm go off?” She stumbles out of bed and slips on some shoes, trying to rub the sleep out of her eyes. They were supposed to meet Dianne at 11 to start hair and makeup.

“I knew this would happen. I called to make sure you were on your way and you didn’t answer so I came to save the day.” Virginia gives Daisy a smug look and flips her hair dramatically over her shoulder. 

Daisy reaches out and pulls her into a bone crushing hug, “You’re the best, don’t know where I’d be without you.” Daisy quickly grabs a pair of jeans and almost eats shit trying to hop into them on her way to the door. 

“Lets go!” She calls to Virginia, grabbing her house keys and pulling on some slippers.

“Alright, alright I’m coming skippy-van-hops-a-lot, Jesus.” Virginia follows quickly behind Daisy, giving a quick goodbye pet to Artemis. 

As the friends stumble out of Daisy’s apartment, she opens her phone to a few missed calls from Dianne’s assistant, Genevieve. She quickly clicks Genevieve’s icon and calls her back, pressing her phone between her ear and shoulder as she rummages through her bag for her car keys, bracing herself to be sternly reprimanded.

“Daisy, where the hell are you? You were supposed to be here like now!” cries a very stressed Genevieve. She mutters to someone else on the other end “I have her on the phone.”

Daisy tosses the keys to Virginia, mouthing “you drive” and runs her now free hand through her hair anxiously. “I’m so sorry Genevieve, on my way now. I overslept. I’ll be there ASAP.”

She sighs and whispers angrily, “Alright, hurry your ass up, I’m covering for you.”

Daisy lets out a breath of relief. “Thank you, I owe you. See you soon.”

Daisy hangs up and gets in the car, replying to all the other missed messages she had received while she was getting her beauty sleep including some from Mariah about how Daisy’s going to meet the aussie man of her dreams tonight. Daisy groans and curls up in the passenger seat of the car, laying her forehead against the cool glass of the window, semi hoping she drops dead before she has to talk to the stupid handsome lead singer tonight.

Virginia pulls out Daisy’s car, nearly hitting an elderly couple, and the girls quickly head to hair and makeup. 

After a quick 15 minute drive, Virginia and Daisy practically sprint into Dianne’s office. Genevieve races up to the girls as soon as they pass the threshold, her normally tame red locks, frizzy and shooting in every direction, and grabs Virginia and Daisy by the wrists. She tugs them impatiently towards makeup and just short of throws them into their seats. Without another word, she storms away, looking more stressed by the second. 

Virginia and Daisy share a look of mutual concern for the small redhead who’s always so calm and collected before they’re interrupted by Dianne’s employees, who without a single word begin work on their faces.

After two hours of careful work and perfected brush strokes, both Virginia, who is coming as a plus one, and Daisy have a full face of makeup and move on to hair. The girls give each other a once over, taking in the completed glam. 

Virginia has always been the beautiful best friend. She has shorter, light brown hair and piercing blue eyes and the most perfect bone structure, but Daisy couldn’t even be envious because she’s the most supportive, selfless person Daisy had ever met and it doesn’t feel right to wish away any of her beauty -- she deserves every ounce of it. 

Her eyeshadow looks simple with a heavy cat eye and her lips are painted a bold red. It looks stunning on her and will match perfectly with the satin red dress she had picked out for the event. 

“Gia, you look hot,” Daisy’s mouth goes slack at the flawless makeup. 

“Says you! I’ve never seen you wear this much makeup during the whole time we’ve known each other!” Daisy turns to look in the mirror. Her eyeshadow is heavier and smoky which makes her green eyes stand out that much more while her lips are painted a nude, glossy shade. It doesn’t feel like she’s looking at herself in the mirror. She gapes in awe at the makeup artists handiwork. 

“Holy shit, this looks great.”

Virginia and Daisy wait around, getting their hair done, eating lunch (they only had salads, gag), playing games, waiting until it's time to get in their dresses and head to the event. The hustle and bustle of artists doing other girls’ makeup (including Ariana fucking Grande who both Daisy and Virginia were too starstruck to approach) and people in charge running back and forth swirls around them, but they pay no mind.

After a while, it was finally time to get dressed, so Virginia and Daisy agreed to part ways.

Virginia’s dress: 

Daisy’s dress:

Daisy watches as Virginia steps out in her dress looking absolutely stunning, per usual.

Daisy’s dress is simple, but this is her first big event and she doesn’t want to overdo it. Any negative attention would upset her too much.

Daisy has to admit. She does feel pretty hot. 

After exchanging a multitude of compliments, Virginia and Daisy are on their way to the VMAs. Daisy’s hands are a shaking mess and the more she thinks about the idea that in a few minutes she’ll be meeting that stupid dumb blonde boy she’s supposed to be dating, the more she feels like she can’t breathe. 

Virginia notices the nerves and grabs Daisy’s hand, throwing the poor girl a reassuring smile. Daisy returns the favor and gives her a small, probably pretty unconvincing smile back. 

The car halts in front of the entrance and the door is opening. Bright lights blind Daisy as she’s guided out of the vehicle, Virginia close behind. 

Daisy smiles despite the chaos and waves to the photographers outside of the building, but inside she feels disoriented. It's like she’s on autopilot. She allows herself to be directed into the building and is quick to find Virginia again once she's inside.

“Jesus, I can’t see.” Virginia blinks and her eyes move around unfocused. 

“Gia, I’m right here.” Daisy waves her hands in front of Virginia’s face, laughing. 

“Goddamn, it felt like I was staring into the fucking sun.” She blinks and focuses her eyes on Daisy, giving her a look of annoyance at the ordeal.

“I know, I’m definitely not used to that stuff yet.” Daisy looks around anxiously, trying to spot Mariah so she can tell her what the hell she’s supposed to be doing. She’s never done anything like this before.

“Ah, you’re here! You both look stunning, the boys are already here. Virginia, dear, there are 3 other attractive men in that band and they all happen to be single,” Mariah suggests, slyly, throwing Virginia a quick wink.

Virginia blushes a deep red, “I’m not famous, they won’t spare me a second glance.” She brushes off Mariah with a wave of her hand. 

Mariah scoffs, “Oh, please, doll, you look just ravishing, they won’t be able to resist. Besides, sometimes I think they prefer a girl away from the fame, you know? Knock ‘em dead, ladies.” Mariah gives Virginia’s shoulder a reassuring squeeze and pulls the girls towards their seats in the audience which are labeled with their names. 

VIRGINIA RHODES

DAISY HARLOW

LUKE HEMMINGS

CALUM HOOD

ASHTON IRWIN

MICHAEL CLIFFORD

Daisy internally groans. When Mariah said she would be sitting with Luke, she meant right next to him. 

Daisy sits down, feeling a wave of intense panic set in. Why is she so fucking nervous? He’s just a boy.

LUKES POV

Luke scrolls aimlessly through twitter, liking his favorite tweets from fans and checking up on some of his friends. The boys laugh and mess around beside him while they make their way to the VMAs. 

Luke checks his hair in his phone camera for what must’ve been the millionth time and runs his sweaty palms over his knees anxiously, glancing out the tinted window. 

“Luke, Luke.” Calum pokes Luke’s shoulder repeatedly to get his attention.

“What is it?” Luke turns around to face Calum sitting behind him and sighs in slight irritation. Luke was on edge and didn’t feel like listening to whatever childish joke Calum probably wanted him to hear.

“Listen to the fart sound Michael can make, it sounds so fucking real.” Calum points at Michael and on cue, he makes a stupid fart noise with his mouth, sending Calum and Ashton into a fit of  giggles. Luke sighs and turns back around, unlocking his phone and opening the Twitter app again, done with his bandmates’ antics. 

“Come on, Luke, don’t be like that.” Ashton squeezes Luke’s shoulder from beside him.

Michael pulls himself towards the two boys, resting his head against Asthon’s headrest. “Aww, is little Lukey nervous about meeting his fake girlfriend?”

Luke scoffs, “Shut up, Michael.” 

“I think you struck a nerve, mate.” Calum slaps Michael’s back approvingly earning a chuckle from the boy. 

“I’m not nervous, piss off.” Luke rests his head against the window like a sulking toddler and the boys erupt in a chorus of laughter.

“What would Bella think about all this? Have you told her?” Ashton questions.

Luke sighs again at the mention of his girlfriend -- his real girlfriend -- Bella who was currently back at their shared apartment.

“No, I haven’t fucking told her.” Luke mutters, picking at his fingernails and looking awfully guilty. The boys hated Bella and from the beginning, Bella has always hated the boys, making it very difficult for Luke to keep balance between his relationship and his best mates. “Can we stop talking about this? We’re here.”

The boys climb out of the car, one by one, once the car slows to a stop. They’re led to their assigned seats and Luke feels his heartbeat pick up, so much so he feels lightheaded. 

Nobody has ever had this effect on him before. Especially not someone he’s never talked to. He’s thoroughly confused to say the least. 

There’s just something about her, something mesmerizing -- something unique. Maybe it's the way her eyes twinkled when she sang, like momentarily she was taken somewhere else, or the way her hair falls around her shoulders like a waterfall, or the way she was so passionate. 

The boys turn a corner and immediately, Luke’s eyes fall on her. He wishes he could run, hide, go anywhere but here, but his legs keep carrying him closer and closer to her. 

The boys shuffle into the seats and Luke begins to feel like his knees are going to buckle at any moment. 

He knows he shouldn’t be feeling this way. But how can something that feels so right be bad?

He sits down next to her, shifting uncomfortably and once those emerald green eyes trail up to his blue ones…

Game over. Luke is royally screwed. 

[jackdawyt]

We’ve finally reached the moment my channel was created for, BioWare officially revealed a brand-new behind the scenes trailer that showcased many gameplay prototypes, concept artwork pieces and next-gen footage that each demonstrate Dragon Age 4’s current production stages, building an overall mood of the game’s vision and direction. And it’s just the best thing to come out of this year.  

Saria and myself have already broken down the trailer’s concept art, and gameplay shots in an incredible 45-minute video, that you need to check out if you’re remotely interested in the next Dragon Age game.

However, today I’m delving into every single piece of information that surrounds this new trailer, as we’ve got plenty of news, tweets and tidbits to delve into!  

First up though, before the trailer’s release we had a few related tweets from the team regarding the current production of the game.  

Production Updates:

In late July, Mark Darrah tweeted some updates about Dragon Age 4’s development. He said: “I realize that most of you are here for Dragon Age news and there hasn't been a lot of that lately...

Let me just run down some things I can say:

1. We are working on the next Dragon Age

2. Yes we are working from home

3. Working from home is harder  

4. We are making progress”

Continuing from that, John Epler retweeted Darrah’s post and said: “WFH is hard! But we're figuring it out, a little better every day. I miss lunches with my team, though.”

And, Patrick Weekes tweeted: “An exhausting but productive week, with a bunch of folks across the Narrative team coming together for Writer Voltron to look at some stuff and figure out how to make it better. Harder over Zoom, but worth it nevertheless.”

@stoner_gordon asked Patrick: “Writer Voltron? Maybe I’m slow today but what do you mean by that?”

Patrick Weekes replied: “There are things writers can work on for awhile by ourselves. Followers, or individual quests. But some stuff is owned by multiple writers, so we set aside time for all of us (plus non-writers involved with Narrative) to get together and hash things out. That’s Writer Voltron.

It is mostly a TON of meetings. We go over content and see what works and what doesn’t. It’s also the time where we make big narrative decisions as a team (or make big proposals we then bring to other affected departments).

Examples of stuff we decide at things like this:

- Hey, this big story element doesn’t work

- How should we do romances?

- Hey, this big huge thing is unclear

- Does it feel like we’re all making the same game?

We have a great team. It’s positive. We’re all exhausted by Friday.”

This was a very interesting look at how the writing team are pushing forward during the current world situation, ensuring that each writer can push on with individual work, while tasks that are assigned to many writers are slightly trickier, the team are working it out, while staying as safe as possible. And, I’m always eager to hear how certain things like individual quests, followers and romances are being developed.

Dragon Age Website Update:  

With the new trailer’s release, the Dragon Age website was updated. The trailer itself ended on the notion of visiting DragonAge.com.  

Upon impact to the site, there’s a red lyrium wallpaper with a slogan that says:

The world needs a new hero. Will you answer the call?

“Journey into the world of Thedas in Dragon Age™. Discover new adventures full of striking characters, powerful magic, and rich storytelling. Meet an incredible number of Humans, Elves, Dwarves, and Qunari in a realm where every decision you make echoes across history.”

New protagonist, new adventures, striking characters, powerful magic, rich storytelling, a roster of races with every decision having rippling effects in the world. Each quality that truly define a Dragon Age game. Very exciting to see this!  

Behind The Scenes Trailer:

Onwards to the trailer, we have many of the amazing developers sharing plenty of insights into the next Dragon Age game’s vision and development.

Casey Hudson stated their using next generation technology, which will be Anthem’s codebase and tools of the Frostbite engine, to bring the world and characters of Dragon Age to life. And the team are still in early production, I’ve estimated that they’ve been in production stages for around 15 months, since May 2019.  

Casey Hudson (General Manager): “We’ve been using next generation technology to bring the world and characters of Dragon Age to life. We’re still in early production.”  

Gameplay Designer Melissa Janowicz spoke about creating bosses and how she helps with many of the creature designs, mostly doing the big threats we’ll go up against. This trailer’s concept art certainly paints a picture of many dark, evil monsters to defeat.  

Melissa Janowicz (Gameplay Designer): “We’re very experimental here at BioWare, so we’re always coming up with new stuff.”  

“I actually design bosses; I help with the creature design team as well. So, I do all of the big threats you have to go up against.”  

The Creative Director, and previous Art Director, Matthew Goldman shared that Dragon Age is all about mystery, and hard-boiled detective stories, which is an egg-cellent pun. All wrapped up in a fantasy setting, with an original world.

Matthew Goldman (Creative Director): “The world of Dragon Age has really got it all, it’s got frontier stories, it’s got mystery, it’s got hard-boiled detective stories. And of course, it’s all wrapped up in kind of a fantasy setting.”

“This is an original world, original flora, original wildlife, original architecture, that makes it fun to explore and discover.”

Executive Producer, and proficient teaser, Mark Darrah shared that in the next Dragon Age, we get an opportunity to see new things, new places, and interact with people who lived and grew up in these spaces as well.  

There’s a huge emphasis on characters we haven’t met yet, because of course, the Inquisition declared it would look for new people to deal with Solas. We’re going to Northern Thedas, we should expect brand new characters to fall in love with.  

Mark Darrah (Executive Producer): “In the next Dragon Age, we get an opportunity to see new things, new places, and interact with people who lived and grew up in these spaces as well.”  

Mastermind, and Lead Writer Patrick Weekes shared about the game that currently working on, and how they want to tell a very different story about what happens when you don’t have power, what happens when the people in charge aren’t willing to address the issues.  

This time around, we’re playing as a new hero, with not nearly as enough power like the Inquisitor, but instead someone who most likely comes from humble tidings, at a guess, someone like a spy, Antivan Crow, or Lord of Fortune.  

No matter the role, our main character will have many conflicts with the predominate people in charge, as they aren’t willing to tackle the issues at stake. I can assume many ideas of course, perhaps the Tevinter Magisterium, The Qunari Invasion, or the Dread Wolf’s scheme.  

Whatever powerful force that may ignore the ongoing issues, there’s going to be a lot of conflict from what can assume is going forward thanks to Tevinter Nights. 

Patrick Weekes (Lead Writer): “For the game we’re working on now, we want to tell a story – what happens when you don’t have power, what happens when the people in charge aren’t willing to address the issues.”

Arby’s Enthusiast, and Narrative Director John Epler spoke on the things we can expect in the next instalment, there are going to be stories that focus on the people around you, and the friends and family you make.  

Every Dragon Age game is about the family we create along the way, expecting more of that, lightens my heart!  

John Epler (Narrative Director): “The things you can expect in the next instalment are going to be stories that focus on the people around you, and the friends and family you make.”

“I just love the possibilities that Dragon Age offers us, and I’m excited to explore a lot more of them.”

Associate Producer Jen Cheverie shared that something we’ll be able to look forward to in the next Dragon Age are really close relationships with game characters who really become real for you. I’m so excited to see how relationships and friendships develop in the next game.  

Jen Cheverie (Assoc. Producer): “Something we’ll be able to look forward to in Dragon Age is a really close relationship with game characters who really become real for you.”

Foundation Technical Director, Jon Renish, with an amazing beard, spoke on how BioWare want characters to either be loved or hated, the best examples of that is Solas. Half of the community wants to kill him, half the people want to marry him, then another part want to do both.

The fact that the devs can stir these reactions, proves that BioWare can and will create characters that move, and shape us.  

If they can make you love or hate a character, they’ve successfully made you care for this world, even if hate is that motivator. However, if you felt nothing for a character, then you wouldn’t have these strong reactions, and wouldn’t feel as connected to the world, or that character.  

Jon Renish (Foundation Technical Director): “We want characters to either be loved or hated, one of the best examples of that is Solas. Half of the community wants to kill him, half the people want to marry him, then another part want to do both.”

Lead Creature Animator, Esther Ko confirmed that Dragon Age 4 is being created using motion-matching technology, that will ensure characters will be as realistic as possible, from the way they walk, move and interact.  

We saw a sneak peak of Solas’s facial animations, and we can already see the improvement of graphical fidelity and animation quality.  

Esther Ko (Lead Creature Animator): “BioWare and EA have been one of the forerunners in using motion matching technology, and that makes it way more realistic for when you're looking at the characters, the way the walk and move, and interact in the world.”

Writer Slyvia Feketekuty spoke on how players want suspension of their disbelief, to believe that the bunch of pixels that make up these characters are actually a living, breathing soul.  

Slyvia Feketekuty (Writer): “Players want that suspension of disbelief that this wonderful collection of digital pixels is actually a living breathing soul.”

Gameplay Director Andre Garcia said that choice is a big part of what Dragon Age is as a franchise, the decisions you make can affect change in the world. Reiterating that the next Dragon Age will most certainly surround our choices, with consequences for each.

Andre Garcia (Gameplay Director): “Choice is a big part of what Dragon Age is as a franchise, the decisions you make can affect change in the world.”

Adding more fuel to the fire for choices and consequences, RPG Programmer Katrina Barkwell spoke on decision-making meaning that a party member lives, or a party member dies. Ultimately, choice making means owning your outcome and reactivity to the choices that you do make.

Katrina Barkwell (RPG Programmer): “Decision-making can mean that a party member lives, or a party member dies. And it means owning your outcome and reactivity to the choices that you do make.”

I said in my breakdown, and I’ll say it again here, it was very nice to see a few of the developers that we love and support in this trailer, sharing vital information on the next game. The story about Dragon Age 4’s development is all about the people creating it, and I am so glad that BioWare have an amazing, tremendously talented bunch of people who know what Dragon Age is.

Adding to that, it was so wholesome to see many of the other developers on a zoom call, showing how despite the current world situation, they’re doing all they can to push the development of the next Dragon Age.  

Key Trailer Features:

Moving on, throughout the trailer, we had many key features highlighted.  

The in-engine shots showcase the next-gen improved fidelity and quality of the Frostbite engine. The reveal of Solas’s facial animations indicate more realistic and life-like animations and scenes, just look at his pearly white teeth, and how his face folds.

And the Gameplay shots reveal a character playing as a warrior, with a sword and shield, wearing Grey Warden armour. Most certainly, the character is a champion specialization, indicated by the “Line in the Sand” ability.  

We see them evading, blocking, shield bashing, and preparing to strike. The camera placement is solid, I really like the angle it currently has, I’m hoping it stays like this.  

The spider with hands is incredibly frightening, however, beautifully animated. I just hope it’s not going to grab items like the barrel, and throw them at us, when approaching combat.  

Two brand-new voice actors were revealed: Jee Young Han & Ike Amadi

Jee Young Han previously appeared in Anthem, as the character Sentinel Dax. In Dragon Age 4, conceptually, she’s playing a character called “Bellara”, whom I’d suspect is a dwarf, given that Qunari and Dwarves generally have American voice actors. Not to mention her dialogue line of something being “the good kind of rumble.”

Ike Amadi, also appeared in a previous BioWare title, being Mass Effect 3, as he played Javik! It seems he’s playing a character by the name of Davrin. Who is most certainly a Grey Warden, indicated by his dialogue? Perhaps he’s the Grey Warden in Tevinter Nights’ cover, considering none of the characters on the book’s cover appeared in the actual book?

Concept Art:

Moving on, the majority of the trailer features amazing conceptual artwork that reflects the mood, tone, story threads and narrative beats that the developers would like the final game to take inspiration from.  

Equally, that means the concepts may or may not appear in the finished project, it’s too early to tell. However, that doesn’t mean we shouldn't pass on dissecting and inspecting the art pieces, because we get a sense of BioWare’s vision, scope and direction for Dragon Age 4.  

Adding to this, Patrick Weekes tweeted about how concept art is used to create a mood, not to outrightly confirm things, but for a framework. While some concepts may excite you, like “Harley Qun”, don’t get attached just yet because they may, and will change.  

To quote Weekes: “We can't answer questions right now about who is or isn't a follower or what story choices we're making. Beyond giving away too much too early, we could also give you the wrong impression and leave you disappointed later. Or we might need to change things between now and ship.  

What I can say is that I personally am proud and excited about the game we're making. I hope that came through in the video. I also hope you have fun speculating, even if we can't answer questions right now. You all made a lot of devs' days yesterday. Thanks.”

So, while it’s absolutely fun, and amazing to speculate about what these concepts may relate to, and the direction of the next game, don’t get too attached just in case certain plot threads or characters are cut or changed.  

Needless to say, me and Saria still have plenty of speculation videos coming up following the trailer, because we find enjoyment in speculation, and seeing how far off from the truth we were when the game actually does ship, I think that’s a good mindset to have.

Regarding the trailer as a whole, I think it’s fair to say it was created as a reaction to what was shown at EA Play. A lot of the fanbase, and people in general were upset with what was shown, however, BioWare listened to us, and delivered this behind the scenes trailer, two months after.  

We can tell it was recently filmed too, not to get too stalker-ry, but Patrick Weekes dyed their hair on the 19th, June, which was a day after EA Play.  

If they had done so before, Weekes’ would’ve had their natural hair-colour in the trailer.  

So, even with the current world situation, the developers took the time to film and create this amazing BTS trailer. Speaking on behalf of the entire DA fandom, thank you so much BioWare for giving us a trailer while in very early-production stages. It has been the saving grace of 2020.  

Romance Teases:

In other news, we have a few Weekes Tweets that regard romance in the future.

Patrick Weekes retweeted @nevarran-novice saying: “This is my formal request that BioWare give us at least one emotionally damaging romance for every Dragon Age game. Like, literally scoop my soul out and throw it at the wall with the angst. Please.”  

Patrick replied with: “I mean I like happy romances with fun positive endings, but the customer is always right!”

It really is true; we all love pain and tragedy in this fandom, as we play Lost Elf theme at 1 am, sobbing in the night. I’m not the only one, right?

Patrick Weekes tweeted: “Hi, sorry, stumbled across this while looking for something else. Just wanted to say:

- Disliking a character or ship is totally valid and does not hurt my feelings

- Coming into someone’s space to say that what they like or dislike is wrong is bad, sorry that happened to you.

And in games with romances, I believe that the same-sex romances should offer the same spectrum of sweet-to-spicy that the straight options do. If all our m/m romances feel dirty while our m/f romances range from romantic to raunchy, then we need to do better.

This clearly hints to BioWare making their future romances more tasteful for every type of romance, which is always good, more inclusivity for everyone! In my honest opinion, I don’t need sex scenes to drive romances, while I’m sure I’d love one for a potential Qunari female wife, I don’t need, or desire them for every single character. Sex and romance in moderation; while being tasteful, sounds perfect in my opinion.  

In the concept artwork, we saw a sexy, Qunari female, that many of us have dubbed the nickname “Harley Qun”, while it’s really hard not to get attached, it’s nice to see BioWare making this character idea more of a reality.  

In 2017, a fan asked Weekes about the idea of a strong female Qunari companion. Weekes replied: “definitely a chance. We like doing character types we haven’t down before, and that would be a biggie in hypothetical future game.”

 So, while Harley is still just a concept design, there’s much potential for her in the future. I wonder if Patrick is writing her too, not that I’m basing my news on retweets, but Patrick has been retweeting a lot of her fanart. But that could just be because we’re already obsessed with her.  

Final romance related tweet, because I didn’t know where else to put this one... Patrick Weekes tweeted: “Is "Dick in a Box" formally a Lonely Island song, or is it technically SNL? It's for work.”

So, erm. Yep, there’s that.  

Mark....:

Mark Darrah tweeted: “No release date to share at this time…” Obviously as a joke, for those who don’t know, the next Dragon Age is at least 2-3 years away, according to EA’s 2019 earnings call.  

Next Comic:

As a final, very exciting news update, Nunzio DeFillipis, the amazing Dragon Age comic writer, alongside with his wife, Christian Weir posted on Tumblr about the potential of a new comic mini-series:  

They replied to autopotion asking about the future of the comics, saying:

“We have another miniseries planned - and it would have come out this year if not for the current world situation shutting down the industry.  We don’t want to promise anything, because everything is so up in the air with the entire world right now.  But what we can say is that if and when there is another miniseries, it will wrap up the story we’ve been telling since Knight Errant.  We will then aim to tell more stories, but one thing at a time.”  

“Wish we could say more.  Because we have a LOT to say, we promise.  Hopefully we can talk about things soon.”

As an absolute fan of each of the Dragon Age comics, the fact that most certainly another one is on its way, and it will end the narrative since Knight Errant excites the crap out of me. Originally, it seems we would’ve had two comic launches this year, Blue Wratih to start year, and one following from that, ending 2020.  

I imagine we’ll see this project back on track soon. It sounds as if this one may be a conclusion to the current comic roster, and after that, we may get brand new stories explored in other comics. While that’s quite far off, I adore this team behind the comics, and eagerly await an update to their stories.  

With all that said, that’s a wrap for this most exciting news update, I’m honestly so excited to be creating Dragon Age content at the moment, making videos that I’ve dreamed about creating for so long. Check out my latest breakdown, and if you’re new, why not follow me, you’re in the best place to be informed on all things Dragon Age related. From the lore to speculation and news, I have it all here.  

[kiatheinsomniac]

Away from the Parties: Ezio M! AU

Part I here     Part II here

(Y/n)'s Wednesday Italian history class had just come to an end and she rose from her seat, jogging down the steps of the hall to make her way back home to all her roommates. She wanted to go over some of the notes she'd taken during the class that evening and was looking forward to a nap.

But, she was stopped by a hand on her lower back as soon as she set foot over the threshold of the exit. It was Ezio's hand on her back that was leading her away. The (h/c)-haired female felt a few looks from other people: some jealous, others finding the seemingly new couple cute (not that they were a couple) and others hoping the two weren't about to get up to something wholly inappropriate in the public space.

"Ciao." He flashed his signature smile, one that brightened up (Y/n)'s mood instantly and - judging by the pull at her lips - it was contagious too. "So, I was thinking about you telling me about wanting to see that new movie with some of your friends but none of you had any time to see it all together." The (e/c)-eyed female nodded her head, remembering the texted conversation quite clearly. It made her feel warm inside to know that he had been thinking of her - a feeling that she was unfamiliar with but liked a lot and could certainly get used to. "It's being shown at this drive-in movie place and I was wondering if you have time to see it with me today at seven?" He proposed. (Y/n) couldn't help the beaming grin that painted her face.

"Of course!" She exclaimed, "I'll be ready to meet you."

"I'll pick you up. It's a date." He smiled happily. He reached forward to place a hand at the back of her neck, fingers ruffling her soft hair a little as he stooped down to press a quick kiss to the crown of her head. But the action was over as soon as it had begun and he walked away, throwing his bag over his shoulder so that he could go to his boxing then return home to prepare himself for his date with his crush. Though, they had become close friends very quickly over the past month and a half.

(Y/n) found herself momentarily stunned by the action before a plume of butterflies erupted in her stomach and blood rushed to her cheeks in a hot blush. She tried her best to not smile like a lovestruck schoolgirl but found that simply impossible as she began to make her way home.

♡♡♡

(Y/n) had struggled with what to wear. She wanted to look nice for the date but wanted to be comfortable too seeing as they would be sitting in Ezio's car for a long time to watch the movie.

Eventually, she had decided on a pair of comfortable dark grey plaid trousers with a thick black belt and a mustard yellow jumper accompanied by a pair of black converse. the top half of her hair was styled up into a fan bun at the back of her head and the rest was allowed to fall loose around her face and shoulders. She had applied some subtle makeup before nodding happily at her reflection in the mirror, throwing a small bag over her shoulder; she had made a stop on the way home to buy some snacks and drinks.

"Oh?" Aya piped up as (Y/n) sat down in the living room, waiting for Ezio to message her that she was outside, "Why do you look so nice? Going over to Ezio's again?" (Y/n) paused for a moment at that comment and thought about it. She had been spending so much time with him that even the other girls noted that the only time she ever left (aside from to attend classes) was to visit her friend. She had 'attended' all of Ezio's previous parties too, and by 'attended', she had stayed in his room, slept around the night and helped him clean up in the morning or treat his hangover. She just liked to spend time with him, it never failed to make her happy.

"Uh. . ." She replied somewhat shyly, "He's taking me out on a date actually." She smiled softly to herself, smoothing down a sticker on her phone case to avoid eye contact.

"Be careful there, lass, he's known to be a player." Mary input as she joined the conversation.

"Not really," She looked up, ready to speak in his defence, "that's just what he lets people believe. All of his past girlfriends have been gold diggers and it's a shame really, because when you get him to talk about it, you can see that they've really hurt him. And yes, he used to sleep around a lot, but he said that was just his way of trying to forget and to get some sort of revenge." She paused for effect, "He hasn't been with any girls since we started talking, or even before that. I. . . I trust that he's being genuine."

"Awee." Anne cooed, making (Y/n) roll her (e/c) orbs.

"Look, I just really like him, ok? I feel happy whenever I'm around him and when he does something cute or thoughtful, I just feel all warm and- I've never felt this way about anyone before and I don't want to let go of it." She smiled to herself as she looked down at her lap.

"You sappy romantic." Kassandra teased as she clapped her friend on the back.

"Coming from you, I hear your phone calls to Kyra and I know that you can't wait to go back to Greece to see her this summer." (Y/n) threw back, making her Greek friend laugh nervously to try and divert attention from the blush on her cheeks.

"Oh, and Aya, you can stop teasing too because whenever you see Bayek, you quite literally pounce on him," (Y/n) added.

"It was one time!" The Egyptian young woman burst out, making the other girls burst out laughing. (Y/n)'s phone buzzed and she looked down to see the message on her screen:

Ezio♡: hey I'm here x

(Y/n) stood up, tucking the phone into her pocket before saying goodbye and almost skipping out the door. What was the problem in acting like a lovesick high school girl anyway? If you're going to love someone, why not openly enjoy every wonderful feeling that it came with? She reasoned.

When she reached the car park, Ezio was waiting there in his sleek black car. (Y/n) made her way to the passenger side, sitting in the seat and greeting her date with a smile.

"Hey." She spoke. He wore a pair of jeans with a Gucci belt and a red sweatshirt. Designer trainers were on his feet. Hell, all of his current outfit was probably some high-up brand or another judging by his wardrobe.

"You look beautiful." He complimented, looking her up and down, "As always." (Y/n)'s lips quirked up at the compliment as she reached behind her to grab her seatbelt. She turned her head to look at the backseats - or where they should have been.

The olive-skinned male had put the seats down flat on the car floor to fit in a small air mattress. It had a duvet on it and various fluffy blankets and pillows. Little string lights were woven into the handles on the ceiling and would be golden when turned on. There was a bag filled with bottles of water and snacks too. (Y/n)'s heart melted as easily as butter over heat as she turned to look at her date who had been watching her reaction.

"Uh, Claudia suggested that I bring you on a date with few people - because of your anxiety - so I settled for the drive-in movie but I wanted to make it nice and I'd seen tweets from girls about loving things like this so-" (Y/n) cut off his nervous rambling by putting her hand on his knee.

"It's wonderful, Ezio." She felt her heart doing somersaults in her chest, "And I'm really touched that you were keeping my anxiety in mind while planning this." A glowing smile painted her lips, "It's so sweet of you." He smiled in triumph and happiness that she liked the little extra effort he had gone through for her. Usually, he'd take girls to expensive restaurants or concerts for dates but he had to keep her needs in mind. She may not be comfortable eating in public or being in a somewhat busy environment for so long and he knew from the way that they met that a concert date would only be disastrous. Her hand remained on her knee and he took her fingers in his own, interlacing them as he began to drive.

(Y/n) found her whole body subconsciously turning into him while music played from the speakers with him phone plugged into the auxiliary - it was a nice and sweet acoustic playlist.

♡♡♡

They soon reached the drive in and paid for their tickets, getting a spot relatively close to the front behind a conveniently low-roofed car. Ezio had opened the boot of his own car so that they could climb into the little setup he had put together and he turned on the lights once they were both laid back. They cast a soft, warm and romantic glow over the two. They waited for the movie to start while other people began parking their cars in the area.

"No, no, no," Ezio laughed while (Y/n) clutched her sides, he placed his hand on her side to get her attention, having to try his best to not laugh himself, "I haven't eaten roses, I swear."

"Lies." (Y/n) teased, still giggling.

"No, I mean: you know when you get a really strong smell of something to the point that you can taste it in the back of your throat?" (Y/n) nodded her head of (h/c) tresses. This had all started over a discussion on a bottle of rose lemonade that Ezio had bought for the date. (Y/n) had inquired whether it really tasted like roses, making Ezio answer with a 'sì' - this, in turn, had made (Y/n) teasingly question if he'd eaten a rose to know this. She knew full well that he had not but it was nice to see him looking so cute while he pouted. There was an open bag of popcorn beside them; it had been intended for the movie but the two of them simply couldn't resist the two bags of snacks that they had with them. He took a sip from the bottle ( (Y/n) had already expressed that she didn't mind sharing the bottle with him) "Ok, really though, do you want to try some?"

(Y/n) had enjoyed laying with him in the back of his car for the past fifteen minutes - hell, she enjoyed every second that she'd spent with him since they first met in his sister's room at that party. She couldn't help but want to be so much more than his friend, she wanted all of the happiness and warmth that he brought her and she wanted to be a girl that he could trust to not use him for his family money.

"Ok, I'll have a taste." She spoke shyly, thinking over her next move. The dark-haired male held out the bottle to her but she reached past it, sitting up to meet him as her hands cupped his face and she collided her lips with his. Surprised at her burst of courage, but most certainly not put off, Ezio held onto the drink with one hand to prevent it from spilling while the other went to the small of her back, pulling her closer to him so that she was leaning into his body. When she pulled away, one of her hands fell to the back of his neck while her thumb caressed his cheek. Ezio reached behind him to carefully settle the drink down while she gently nudged her nose against his, letting out the smallest of satisfied sighs. He felt her eyelashes brush against him as she fluttered her eyes open. He did the same, warm golden-brown meeting (e/c) in a loving gaze.

"Can I- can I do that again?" She breathed. Ezio replied by colliding their lips once more, both of his arms snaking behind her. One pressed into her lower back to make her body melt against his while the other went to the back of her neck, cradling her head and gently tangling his fingers in her hair. Her hands ran down his chest, retreating back up to lay on the sides of his neck, thumbs featherly caressing his jaw. He savoured the taste of her cherry lipgloss and the warmth and softness of her lips on his own scarred ones. They both pulled away after a while.

"I've been wanting to do that for so long, you have no idea." He mused against her lips. He watched her cheeks become alight with heat as she glanced shyly to the side. He smiled sweetly at her, caressing her waist-length hair.

"I. . . That was my first kiss. . ." She mumbled against his lips and yet she couldn't help the little smile that tugged at her own.

"And it makes me happy to know you trust me with that." He held her close to him in an intimate embrace.

"But I didn't just do that because I felt like it in the moment. . ." She began, if there ever was a chance to tell him how she felt, it was now, "I really like you Ezio, like, really like you. I. . . I want to be more than this." She mustered up the courage to look him in the eye. "I thought we were so different with you being such a social butterfly and me taking any form of social interaction," She laughed nervously, "But we started talking and we have so much more in common than anyone would think. And when I'm with you, I just want infinite time so that I can spend it all with you. I love how happy and just. . . warm you make me feel. I've never felt this way about anyone before so it's scary and yet. . . I don't want to let go of this. I want you."

"Oh, amore mio, you've found all of the words that I couldn't." He smiled as he rolled her onto her back, hovering over her in a somewhat possessive and yet wholly loving embrace, "Ti prometto che ti darò il mondo." He pressed a quick kiss to the end of her nose before they heard the movie begin and they sat up to cuddle into each other while they watched it.

♡♡♡

When they were driving back, (Y/n) had expressed how tired she was and how she wanted to stay the night at Ezio's. He had gladly agreed which is why he was ushering her inside his home, following in behind her. Claudia's head popped up from the living room sofa. She beamed a grin when she saw that Ezio had even taken her home after their date (which Claudia mostly planned but decided to let him take the credit for - she wanted them to get together anyway).

"Dimmi che l'hai baciata!" She called to tease the new couple.

"Claudia. . ." Maria warned, looking up from her book and speaking with a warning tone, not wanting to make the guest in her home uncomfortable (though, she anticipated a positive answer too, happy to finally see her son with a nice girl who was not looking for money like the others).

"How could I not?" He replied back to his younger sister in the same tone as her own, wrapping an arm around (Y/n)'s waist before leading her upstairs, carrying her bag for her like a gentleman. She collapsed onto his bed, smiling against the sheets as she recalled their kiss. She felt Ezio lay down behind her, half on her, as he wound his arms around her, pressing kisses to the side of her face and trailing down to her neck. "Ti amo, (Y/n)." He breathed heavily against her (s/t) skin, holding her (b/t) body flush against his own. She took one of his hands in her own and brought it up to her lips to kiss his handsomely tanned skin.

"Ti amo anch'io, cuore."

[shuahoonie]

you. [tom holland] - three.

PAIRING: tom holland x female!celebrity!reader

SUMMARY: ah, to be young and in love. it sounds great if only you and tom were actually dating out of pure love and not for the sheer reputation of your careers. it also should be great if you two actually got along, but life isn’t that easy.

WARNINGS: mostly swearing! mentions of alcohol! a bit of fluff, a bit of angst. it’s haters to lovers / fake dating au so take that information as you wish!

WORD COUNT: 1632

SONG INSPO: our lawyer made us change the name of this song so we wouldn’t get sued - fall out boy  

A/N: aaah, hello babes! i have been writing a lot since the new year ngl, it is so refreshing to just write and not stress about stuff. although that’ll change as i head back to university tomorrow [technically today lmao] and face a shit ton of papers and readings!!! anyways, happy reading and enjoy part three!

gif credits @peteparkrrs​

vanessa’s masterlist | preview | one | two | four | five | six | seven | eight | eight.5 [interview excerpt] 

“Why, I found a solution to your problems, my dears.” Zoë smiled, almost too sickly.

You were starting to get anxious. Is it your manager or is it because of the coffee? Probably both.

You waited for her to continue and what she said afterwards almost made you spat your drink.

“You and Tom will fake-date for damage control,” Zoë said as if it was the most obvious solution.

“I’m sorry, what?” You asked, practically choking on your drink. Has she gone mad?!

“You,” Your manager pointed at you “and Tom” She then gestured to the devil sitting beside you “will be acting as a fake couple.” 

“God, please tell me this is just a horrible dream.” You practically begged as you closed your eyes, trying to convince yourself that you’re just asleep and this, whatever this is, will be over as soon as you open your eyes. 

“How did you two end up to this conclusion, may I ask?” Tom asked, equally appalled at the resolution that was dropped in front of you two. 

“It’s the only thing that made sense after the theatrics that you two pulled,” Matthew spoke up. “Setting the illusion that you two are secretly dating and got into a small fight last night, which ended up with Y/N pouring her drink on Tom.” 

“That was a small fight? What if we had a big one?” Tom scoffed “Will she kill me then?” 

You smirked at him. “Why, that’s the first thing that I liked from all of the nonsense you just said.” 

Tom rolled his eyes at you. “I still don’t see how dating for publicity solves what happened last night,” Tom spoke up, in which you had to agree. None of it made sense after all. 

“Then how exactly are you two going to explain the scene from last night?” Zoë asked with her arms crossed. 

“I’ll be glad to confirm to the world that Tom Holland is an asshole since he called me a leech,” You said almost nonchalantly. People were starting to paint Tom as the bad guy in the narrative, and all four you were aware of it. 

“No one will be telling anything,” Tom jeered. “No one will be telling anything because it’s none of their business. They shouldn’t care about these things in the first place.” 

“Hate to break it to ‘ya, bud, but see this?” You showed him your phone, the screen showing Twitter’s trending tab and there it showed over a hundred thousand tweets about you two. “People made it already their business.” 

Tom massaged his temples. “What, are you on board with this idea now?” 

“Fuck no,” You hissed. “As much as I hate to say this but Holland’s right, we don’t have to anything about this.” 

“You two don’t have a choice,” Matthew commented. “If you two chose to disregard this, the people wouldn’t let this go. It will always be asked in interviews, they would only speculate more.” 

“God, why did you even go to that specific club.” You grumbled at Tom. “Of all clubs in Los Angeles.” 

“Why are you putting this on me? None of this would’ve happened if it wasn’t for you!” Tom argued. 

“I wouldn’t have done what I did if it wasn’t for your stupid mouth!” You were fuming. 

“Look, it’s a win-win for both of you. Tom will clear up his image by giving an impression of how your little couple’s argument escalated. As for Y/N, she’ll be receiving a lot of publicity for this. It’s good for a rising-star to have this much publicity.” Zoë proclaimed. 

“Jesus, you really are a leech,” Tom mumbled under his breath. However, you still caught it. 

“Call me that one more time and I swear you’ll be going home with not only ruined clothes but also with a bruise on your precious face.” You threatened, narrowing your eyes at him. 

“So it’s settled then?” Matthew asked, “You two are going to do it?” 

Tom just shrugged, probably defeated knowing he won’t stand a chance in this argument. He does have this reputation to uphold and he’s not going to let someone ruin it. 

You, however, felt too brave. You shook your head no and said, “You can’t make me.” 

Zoë raised her eyebrow at you, taking it as a challenge. “Try me.” 

“Remember to hold hands, kids!” Zoë said giddily as she waved goodbye. 

“I am going to kill her,” You gritted in between your teeth as you left the building with the devil quickly fixing his hair. 

“I might actually take you up on that and add my manager into the mix,” Tom grumbled and adjusted his shirt. Tom decided to leave his jacket at the office and figured that a white shirt paired with denim pants was enough. He claims that he looks toned down and his outfit is so casual that people might not notice him. 

You begged to differ. Even if he is just wearing a plain shirt and the most basic denim pants, Tom will still attract people’s attention. The fabric of his shirt clung to his body like second skin. It shows how fit he is and you weren’t one to deny that. 

No matter how little effort Tom puts in regards to dressing himself, he still looked good. That annoyed you. 

“Okay, so the first thing to get this ship sailing-” Zoë stopped and turned to Matthew, “Hah, get it, Matt? I learned it from the internet. Apparently, a ‘ship’ is slang for relationship.” She raved. 

“Oh, that’s sick.” Matthew agreed. 

You let out a huge groan. “God, it’s like watching my parents learn internet lingo all over again.” Not to mention having flashbacks of your early internet days, stumbling over Tumblr with ‘Destiel’ mentioned everywhere. What a time.

Tom, on the other hand, had his face buried in his hand. He seemed like he was equally embarrassed and frustrated with this entire situation. 

“You two are going to have lunch together at this newly opened restaurant. It’s not far from here, don’t worry.” Zoë stated. She mentioned the name of the place, also adding the fact that you and Tom had to walk there. 

“You want us to walk?! This whole area is crawling with paparazzi.” Tom noted. 

“You two will be fine, they can’t hurt you.” Zoë dismissed you two. 

“The restaurant is a couple of blocks away,” You pointed out after searching the place on Google maps. 

“See it as a quick exercise,” Matthew implored. “You two are young, you’ll manage.” 

So here are you both now. You were walking with a complete asshole, who’s apparently now your boyfriend, on the way to this restaurant and waiting to be devoured by paparazzi. 

It was a quiet walk if you two were being honest. You expected more irritating remarks from Tom and you were ready to give out your snarkiest replies, however, you two were now walking in silence. 

It was actually a nice day in Los Angeles. It wasn’t too hot and humid, unlike most days. It wasn’t also that busy in the streets, which is odd, you thought. The day was perfect-too perfect.

Well, it was until you saw a man with a camera hiding behind one of the parked cars along the street. 

Tom seemed to take notice of the figure you just saw and put on a neutral face. “It’s showtime,” Tom said under his breath, loud enough for you two to hear. 

You two were walking alongside each other with close proximity, yes, but you weren’t going to hold hands. As much as to Zoë’s dismay, you thought and restraining yourself from rolling your eyes. 

You could hear the clicks of the camera and with every step, it seemed like the number of clicks multiplied. It only made you feel uneasy, you felt your chest tightening. 

You suddenly wished that you never agreed to this, no matter how much they pressured you. You didn’t mind your state of fame before. A handful of people recognize you from the Sci-Fi Thriller, Alchemist. You were also known for your Twitter and how you absolutely gave no fucks with whatever you tweet. Zoë had a problem with that before, but she just let it go since your account says a lot about your personality. 

However, none of that bothered you. You liked that people recognized you but still managed to get on with your life without getting disrupted. 

Tom glanced at you, noticing how you seemed like you were out of it. He could sense that you were taking deeper breaths than you did before. He frowned, Is she not used to this? Tom wondered. He carefully thought of what to do and just mumbled “Oh, fuck it,” and reached for your hand. 

It caught you off-guard. Oh boy, did you react so rashly. 

“What the hell are you doing, Holland?” You asked as you yanked your hand back. 

“I’m trying to help you,” He grumbled as he took your hand again, holding it firmly this time. “You looked like you were about to have a panic attack. I figured you’d rather have your attention somewhere else.”

“What if people see and-” 

“And what?” Tom cut you off, “They assume that we’re dating? Aren’t we supposed to be, princess?”

You weren’t expecting Tom to wrap his hand around yours nor did you expect him to help you ease your nerves down, so you ended up staring at him. You were trying to figure out what kind of stunt is he trying to pull now. 

He turned his attention to you, his brows knitted slightly. “Why are you staring, princess?” He chuckled softly, amused at the confusion painted on your face. 

What are you trying to do, Holland? You thought. 

TAG LIST:  @thomasthetankson @autty0314 @marvelous-tswiftfan @averyfosterthoughts @theolwebshooter @jackiehollanderr @sltwins​ @herondalescecilys​ @notjustpenandpaper​ @ihopethatwemeetinanotherlife​  @sectusempried​ @gothicwidowsworld​ @heartofholland​ 

[floralguccistyles]

seven: the petra gallego cinematic universe

I wasn’t a vain person.

If there was one thing I really liked about myself, it was probably this fact. I had never been careless with how I looked, but I didn’t let my appearance rule my life, either. I was perfectly comfortable going out of the house without makeup, just like some girls didn’t like to even run down to the Tesco without it on. This didn’t make me better than other girls, but my appearance was just something that had been secondary to my mental health.

Which is why I was chastising myself for staring at my nose in the mirror, frowning.

It had been a week since my disastrous conversation with Harry. In that week, I had been obsessively checking Twitter to see what his fans were saying about me. Overall, I was actually surprised to see that most of them were nice. They liked my Vans and thought the height difference between Harry and I was cute, whatever that meant. About twenty percent of them had been disparaging to my appearance in some way, though. They tweeted that I was too ugly to be seen with Harry. I would be the first to admit that I hadn’t looked my best when the pictures of us had surfaced, but I didn’t think I had looked as terrible as everyone was saying.

Over the past week, however, I found myself looking in the mirror a lot more than I usually did. At first, it had been the color of my hair. Brown was a hard color to criticize (in my opinion), but it was like the comments about my hair had made me realize how dull the color actually was. I had a small breakout near my hairline which I could easily cover with my hair, but it still made me upset to see since my skin was usually clear.

Today, the problem I seemed to have with my appearance was my nose. I was never aware that it was a little too protruding. The tip of it seemed to come to an unflattering point that I had never really noticed until I was standing in my bathroom, my hair slicked back from my shower. My reflection stared back at me in the mirror, a frown on her face as her fingers contorted her nose this way and that.

Did my nose make me look ugly?

I scoffed at myself, hating the way I was scrutinizing my appearance and stepping away from the mirror. I braided my wet hair back so it wouldn’t stick to my face in stringy clumps and then walked out of my bathroom, giving Melody a wave. She had stayed the night at my place last night because Vera’s boyfriend had stayed at her place the night before and he always made weird comments about Melody’s body right in front of Vera.

“You were in there a long time for someone who only has like three bath products,” Melody commented, scrolling through the channels on the telly. The two of us were headed out to the midnight premiere of Captain Marvel, which was in a couple of hours. Melody had bought us tickets a couple months back and needless to say, it was the only thing I’d been looking forward to for a while.

I didn’t want to admit to my brazen and blunt best friend that the reason was because I was nitpicking my appearance. “I’m always in the shower for a long time.”

Besides my newfound insecurities with my physical appearance, this week had also been filled with Marvel movies. We had watched all the films in the universe to prepare us for both Captain Marvel and Endgame, which was set to come out in April. We had also already purchased our tickets to that midnight screening. In fact, I was fairly certain this was the only time I had gotten ready in the past week. Usually our Marvel marathons were spent entirely in our pajamas.

“Touché.”

My phone buzzed quietly in my pocket. Knowing who it probably was, I ignored it.

He had been messaging me on Instagram ever since the night of our argument. He had apologized almost an hour afterwards, mentioning that he didn’t have the right to feel offended by my offhanded joke. I hadn’t replied. The next day, he had asked about the succulent he brought me, which he said he affectionately named Benjamin. I didn’t reply to that one either. He didn’t message me for two days after that, but then tried his luck again with messaging me, asking if I was free that day.

I hoped the radio silence on my end was hint enough.

I don’t know what I had been thinking, trying to be friends with Harry. Not even friends, but rather acquaintances. It was just too difficult to be friends with him when I knew about our past. Despite my mother and father begging me to give Harry a chance to prove that the boy from secondary school no longer existed, Doctor Thorne had been right. I wasn’t going to force myself into having a relationship with him.

“Is that the raging twat again?”

While I hadn’t told her about my Twitter deep searches, I did tell her about the conversation with Harry last week. She had clucked her tongue, as if to say I told you so without really saying it.

I pulled out my phone. I didn’t even read the message, just checked to see if it was attached to his username. “Yep.”

“You still ignoring him?”

“Yes.”

“Good. He doesn’t deserve you.”

I halfway agreed. Not because he was some secretly kind and beautiful person, but because I didn’t think it was especially hard to deserve me. If Harry had shown even the smallest of kindnesses to me when we were younger, he might have deserved me. Since he hadn’t, he didn’t. But I didn’t think I was this incredibly special person who deserved the world.

“Read me the message. I wanna hear what he has to say for himself,” Melody said, leaning back on my couch and propping her feet up on my coffee table.

Obliging, I retrieved my phone from my pocket and opened up Instagram.

“Christ, he’s sent me a fucking novel.”

Melody just snickered.

harrystyles: Hi Petra. Just checking in. I’m sorry for last week. I know that’s why you’re probably ignoring me. I’ve gone and fucked things up again, haven’t I? I know this isn’t going to make up for anything, but I know you and Melody are probably going to the premiere of Captain Marvel tonight. Tell me how you like it. I’ve got tickets to the premiere in Los Angeles in two weeks. If you want, I could get you tickets to come. Let me know. I’ll get Melody a ticket too.

My mouth hung open at his message.

“Holy shit, he really wants you to forgive him. Los Angeles? That’s major.”

I didn’t know why, because Melody was looking impressed and reluctantly excited, but I was angry. I wanted to throw my phone across the room.

Of course it wasn’t enough that he just wanted to apologize for being a shitty person. He just had to make sure something was attached, like that was a reason for giving our hesitant acquaintanceship another shot. I knew Harry was rich and had money to buy the people he cared about nice things, but to me, that was a cheap shot. I’d much rather have something heartfelt, like him inviting me to meet John Williams because he knew how excited I’d be.

It was like I wasn’t even worth the effort. Like he could just throw something expensive in my direction and I’d forgive him.

“You can have the tickets if you want,” I told Melody, tossing my phone onto the couch in annoyance, “but I don’t want them.”

Melody raised an eyebrow, but didn’t say anything. She just continued to search through channels for something to watch. While we sat in the silence, I let my eyes drift over to Benjamin (which I had reluctantly started calling him. Not because Harry had thought of it, but because it was a rather cute name).

If Harry had shown up with another thoughtful little plant like that, I might have forgiven him.

“I’m not going to Los Angeles without you. The raging twat can go fuck himself.” I chuckled at her blasé tone. “I’m just… I don’t know. Worried about you. I know you guys were getting closer or whatever.”

“No,” I almost immediately responded. “I think Harry and I are unable to be friends.”

And that was the truth of the matter. I had deluded myself into some sort of comfortability with him, but it was long gone. It was like his little offhand comment had reminded me of all the shit he had done. He was Harry who introduced me to John Williams and brought me iced coffee, yes, but he was also the Harry who made me sob and was one of the reasons I was going to therapy in the first place.

“Trennan and I are unable to be friends. Trennan’s not a twat like Harry is, but he’s so fucking stupid.”

And just like that, my sour mood was back to normal. Melody had that effect on people. We wasted time by chatting about Trennan’s latest fuck up at work and watched an episode of Friends that was playing on the telly. We painted our nails (something Melody was surprisingly good at) red, blue, and gold to show support for Carol Danvers before the movie. When it came time for us to leave, my flat, we eagerly got into our Uber who took one look at our Marvel gear and asked if we were going to the midnight premiere.

The theater was packed when we arrived, but since we’d already gotten our tickets, there really wasn’t anything to worry about. It was one of those fancy theaters that sold alcohol, so we each got a drink and cheered to the new movie before they allowed us into the actual theater. We were sitting in the middle, which was absolutely the best seat in the house, and I wiggled into the chair and flipped up the foot rest. There was a little swinging table that came across my stomach, so I set my drink there.

For those glorious two hours and five minutes, all of my worries seemed to evaporate. Watching Carol Danvers kicking alien ass was like a switch that shut off all the drama that was going on with Harry and all of the terrible tweets. It was just Melody and I watching as the first woman superhero in Marvel got her solo film. Seeing Samuel L. Jackson without an eyepatch and CGI’d to look younger was a trip, but the movie was so brilliant that I couldn’t bring myself to care.

“Fuck, that was brilliant,” Melody exclaimed when we exited the theater, still on the high of seeing such an amazing film. “Did you see her absolutely obliterate Jude Law?”

I had seen her absolutely obliterate Jude Law, but I nodded my head enthusiastically. “And then that line!”

“I’ve got nothing to prove to you,” Melody quoted, her voice dipping lower to try and mimic Brie Larson’s cadence. “Holy shit I’m so glad we saw that.”

“You coming back to mine?” I asked, getting out my phone to order an Uber for the two of us.

“Unfortunately no. I’ve got to head to the office early in the morning and I don’t want to wake you up. Plus, I’ve got some documents there that I need.”

Once we grabbed an Uber back to her flat, I gave her a quick hug. The nights where Melody didn’t stay the night were weird now. I had gotten used to her using my couch as her safe haven.

“What’s the second address?” the Uber driver asked.

I told him my flat address as my phone beeped in my pocket. When I pulled it out, I was surprised to see Bailey’s number flashing across my screen. “Bails?” I asked when I answered it. There was thumping bass in the background of wherever she was and I had to plug my other ear with my finger to hear her clearly.

“Petra! Thank Christ. I didn’t know who else to call. Harry is here and he’s absolutely pissed. Like, I don’t think he can even navigate through the Uber app right now. Jeff left about an hour ago, but I don’t think he knew how drunk Harry was. I’ve been sitting with him for a couple of minutes trying to get him to drink water.”

My first instinct was to tell Harry Styles to fuck off. He was smarter than going out and getting piss drunk without a sure way home. But the pleading tone of Bailey’s voice had me sympathetic enough to ask where they were. Once she gave me the name of the night club, I told the driver to change course and that I’d pay him double for the inconvenience. “Alright, Bails, I’m on my way. Sorry you have to deal with him.”

“S’alright. He was fine the first couple of drinks. Was dancing and singing. Then he just got quiet and sad. I’m just worried he’s going to do something stupid.”

I wasn’t heartless enough to not feel sympathy for him. But my sympathy wouldn’t fix things between us, so I just hummed at Bailey’s statement. “Try and keep him drinking some water. I’ll make sure he gets home safe. Is anyone else there with you?”

“Veronica’s in the loo.”

There was a bright side to this little excursion then. At least I would get to say hello to Bailey and Veronica. “Alright. Be there soon.”

I wasn’t exactly dressed to go to a nightclub. I noticed this the second the driver pulled up and I promised I would be out in fifteen minutes. I was in mum jeans and my Marvel shirt, not in the glittery and sequined mini dresses some of the girls were wearing. Uncomfortable, I crossed my arms over my chest and tried to find Bailey in the crowd of people. There were intoxicated people everywhere, bumping into me and sending me glares as if it were my fault. Eventually I managed to find the leggy blonde that was Veronica Berkley, and made a beeline over towards her.

The three of them were sitting at a table, Harry’s head down on the wood and his arm hanging limply at his side. He had a glass of water in front of him and Bailey was trying to coax him to take another sip. When she saw me, her face relaxed. “Thank Christ. Thanks, Petra.”

“Petra?” Harry asked, his head immediately lifting from the table. He stared at me, but it didn’t look like he was all the way there. He then noticed my outfit and sent me a timid smile. “How was the movie?”

“C’mon,” I said stoically, reaching for him, “let’s get you home.”

Helping Harry keep upright happened to be a very difficult task. Compared to me, he was unreasonably tall. He leaned awkward against me, but slotted his arm around my shoulders to keep himself from tipping over. “I had too many shots of tequila,” he mumbled groggily, blinking slowly as I tried to maneuver his weight in a way that helped us both not fall.

“I know,” I replied. I looked towards Bailey and Veronica. “I’ve got him, guys. I’ll text you when I get home, yeah?”

“Please do. Be careful,” Veronica said, eyeing Harry. She didn’t know the details of our past, but she knew I wasn’t exactly his number one fan. Veronica was incredibly well-tempered, but also was passionate about protecting the ones she cared about. For some wild reason, I had made it into this category.

I nodded and reached around Harry, pulling his body closer to my waist so I could keep him up. Walking was a bit of a chore, especially because drunk Harry seemed to get distracted very easily, but we made it out of the nightclub with minor injuries and arguments. The Uber driver from earlier raised an eyebrow when Harry Styles got into his car, but thankfully didn’t say much else.

“Same address?” the Uber driver asked.

“No,” I said, turning to Harry. “Harry, you’ve got to tell me your address so we can get you home.”

“I don’t remember it.”

I tried not to get annoyed since it wouldn’t be much help, but that proved difficult while in the presence of one Harry Styles. “Don’t you want to go home and sleep in your bed? From my own memory, I remember it being a magnificent one.”

He grinned. “You’ve imagined being in my bed?” At my deadpan look, his smile dropped and he shook his head. “I...I don’t want to be alone.”

That should have been it. I should have demanded to get the address from him and sent him on his way home. I’d walk him up to his door and put him in his bed (fuck changing him out of his clothes, he could sleep in his wide-legged yellow pants for all I cared) and then be on my way. But it was the look in his eyes as he hesitantly turned to face me that had me stopping in my tracks. They weren’t the carelessly apologetic eyes I had been expecting to see after our little disagreement. They were tired, an exhaustion that only came with carrying the weight of something heavy and ugly on your shoulders. He blinked slowly at me, and I was a little surprised to see tears well in them.

Which was the only reason I told the driver to just stick to my address.

Harry was nearly comatose on the drive back, staring out the window so I couldn’t see that lonely look in his eyes anymore. I didn’t know if I was grateful for it or wishing I could see it again. Seeing it would prove to me that there was a semblance of a human who had problems like I did, but not seeing it meant that I could still justify being angry with him about last week. Eventually, I just settled into my seat and looked out my own window as the city passed us by.

When the driver pulled up to my place, I had to shake Harry gently awake. Sometime during the drive, he had dozed off. He blinked a little sleepily at me as I thanked the guy driving us and hurriedly exited the car to help Harry out of his side. Like in the club, he easily slid his arm around my shoulders and accepted my help as we hobbled to my flat. Getting my keys out of my pocket with a drunk gargantuan attached to me was difficult, but not impossible. Soon we stumbled into my flat and Harry made a beeline to my couch, groaning as he sat on the cushions.

“Why’re we at your place?” he asked, his breath smelling entirely like the bottom of a bottle.

“You said you didn’t want to be alone,” I replied, gathering the blankets and pillows that Melody usually slept with to make him a little pallet on the couch.

He frowned. “I didn’t think you cared.”

That stung more than it should have. “M’not heartless, Harry.”

“No,” he immediately said, shaking his head, “no. You’re the opposite of heartless. You have too much heart, I think. There’s so much of it and it’s easy to break and I’ve broken it a lot.”

I was uncomfortable with the direction our conversation was taking. I hoped he would fall asleep soon so I could retreat to my room and escape the emotions swirling around inside me. “Go to sleep, Harry. You’ll feel better in the morning.”

“I’ll feel like shit. I always do when you’re involved.” He seemed to have enough clarity to know that this wasn’t a good thing to say, so he cursed. “I didn’t mean it like that. I just mean that I’m not good enough to be your friend.”

Laughing humorlessly, I shook my head. “You don’t know what you’re saying, Harry. You’re drunk.”

“Drunk words are sober thoughts,” he reminded me.

“I never believed in that saying.”

“It’s because you would never say someone bad about someone. That’s what being drunk is, mostly. You just say shitty things because suddenly you have courage. But you wouldn’t. Because you’re a nice person.” He curled onto his side, clutching the pillow like it was his salvation. “I know I fucked up. I didn’t have a right to be mad when you said that.”

“You didn’t,” I agreed.

“I just hate being reminded of what person I was to you.” When I didn’t say anything, his eyes scanned my flat, landing on the succulent he had brought me. “You kept Benjamin.”

“I told you I was a good plant mum. Just because I was mad at you doesn’t mean Benjamin needed to suffer.”

He laughed, the sound of it making me feel lighter now that I knew he was off the self-deprecating thoughts. We could discuss it in the morning. I still wasn’t really ready to forgive, and that was on me. I had to search deep into myself and deal with problems that didn’t have anything to do with Harry. Hearing him—even if I knew he was drunk—apologize for his actions helped.

“She’s really beautiful,” he said suddenly, and I saw his eyes on the photo of my grandmother.

“She is.” I tried to forget that he had told me last week that I had looked like her.

“You are too. Inside and out. I want to be beautiful like that.”

His hand reached out and curled around mine, carding our fingers together to examine the difference in sizes. My hand was small and bony, his fingers were long and callused from playing guitar. I held my breath as he stared at our fingers, his thumb running across the back of my hand and tickling the skin there. “Why didn’t you want to be alone tonight, Harry?” I whispered.

“Always alone. Didn’t want to be.”

His head lolled to its side, burrowing itself into the pillow. I knew he would be out in a matter of minutes and I could release my fingers from his then, but for now I let him clutch onto my skin. I heard the moment his breathing evened out, small snores falling from his parted lips. Sighing, I stood from the couch and tossed the blanket over him, making sure he was properly tucked in since I knew the fan blowing overhead sometimes made Melody cold.

And then I retreated to my own room, trying to ignore the fact that Harry Styles was sleeping just beyond my bedroom wall.

~

The smell of something burning woke me up.

It took me a couple of moments to remember what had happened the night before. When I did, I groaned. This morning was going to be interesting with a hungover Harry. I was suddenly glad Melody had decided to stay at her place because Christ knew she would be glaring at Harry’s every move. Blearily putting on my glasses so I could properly see, I stretched my body out of bed, listening to the pops and cracks of my bones. I was dressed in my normal sleep attire of leggings and a long-sleeved shirt, so I just shoved my feet into slippers and made my way into the kitchen.

The burning toast had woken me from sleep, but the fact that Harry was standing in my kitchen in nothing but his underwear was like someone had poured cold water down my back.

He turned, jumping when he saw me staring at him. “Christ, you move quietly!” he exclaimed. My eyes were locked onto his torso, unable to meet his eyes. Harry wasn’t the most muscular guy that I’d ever seen, but that didn’t mean he was lacking in that department. His entire body looked like someone’s doodled-in notebook, but the tattoos suited him.

All except the giant fucking butterfly.

“Morning,” he said cautiously, not noticing that my gaze was on the giant insect across his stomach.

“Why the fuck did you get a butterfly?” I asked, ignoring morning pleasantries in favor of taking a page from Melody’s book and being blunt and honest.

He smiled a little. “Lux liked butterflies.” I had no idea who Lux was, but I just raised an eyebrow. “I’m making us breakfast.”

“I’m surprised you’re up and about. I was sure you’d be groaning and complaining about your massive headache.” Still, I sat at one of my barstools and watched him put two slices of toast on a plate. I smelled the avocado before I saw it, and I was happy to see he put a generous helping on the toast I assumed was meant for me. Sprinkling pepper and salt on it, he handed it to me with a flourish.

“I found your ibuprofen. Sorry for rummaging.”

I took a bite of the toast, noticing that he was leaning forward on the counter to see my reaction. When I swallowed, I gave him a nod and a tiny smile to let him know that, yes, his breakfast was edible. He let out a sigh of relief and then started on breakfast for himself.

Having Harry Styles in my kitchen making me breakfast was like an out of body experience. It felt like the dream of every girl back in secondary school had happened to me, the girl that Harry hated most. It was wild to wrap my head around. I was still trying to when he turned to me.

“The paps got pictures of us last night.”

The last time the paps had gotten pictures of us, I had been sent into a spiraling hole of self-esteem that I still hadn’t entirely clawed my way out from. “Oh,” was all I was able to say.

“Jeff called me this morning to tell me. I just wanted to let you know so you weren’t blindsided.” I opened my mouth to say something, but closed it when I realized how stupid I would sound. Unfortunately, he caught it. “Say what’s in your head,” he suggested, taking a bite of his toast.

“I don’t want to. It’s stupid.” I brushed the tiny crumbs of toast of my shirt, avoiding Harry’s gaze.

“It’s not stupid if it puts that look on your face.”

I wanted to remind him that there was once a time he put that look on my face daily. But I didn’t. It wouldn’t be fair to either of us to bring something like that back up, not when things seemed to be going decently. “I just...I’m sure I didn’t look my best. Between that and the John Williams day…” I let my voice trail off, taking another bite of the toast to distract myself.

“Petra, no one cares how you look.” The sentence almost made me chuckle because of its phrasing, but I knew how he meant it.

“Some people do.”

It took him a few moments to realize what I had said, but when he did, he set his plate down on the counter. He didn’t look happy. His mouth was set in a grim line and his arms came up to cross in front of his chest. “You went on Twitter.”

I shrugged. “It wasn’t anything I wasn’t expecting. I walked out of the house with wet hair and my makeup not done.” I hated that I had become this girl, the one that cared what people thought about her appearance. But seeing people saying such harsh things had ruined the carefully constructed version of myself that I held in my head.

“Look at me,” he said in a quiet voice. When I lifted my gaze, his eyes were burning with something I couldn’t identify. “Petra Gallego, you are absolutely gorgeous. Don’t let assholes tell you otherwise.”

My mouth went dry and embarrassed tears pricked in my eyes.

“I owe you an apology,” he said while I tried to tighten my throat so the tears wouldn’t fall. “I acted like a dick the last time I was here. You had every right to ignore me. I honestly don’t know why you keep giving me chances.”

“I wasn’t going to let you be that drunk by yourself without someone to take care of you,” I argued. “Anyone else would have done it, too.”

“No, they wouldn’t have. I meant what I said last night, Petra. You’re beautiful inside and out.”

“You can’t just say things like that to me,” I blurted.

“Why?”

“You just can’t,” I argued, giving him a glare and pushing my plate of toast away from me. Instead of taking this as a sign that I was done discussing the topic, he took the plate and put it in my sink, casually washing off the crumbs like this was something he did everyday. “And you can’t just try and get me to forgive you by throwing money at me either.”

He stopped cleaning my dishes, giving me a confused look. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“The premiere in Los Angeles? You just offered the tickets to get me to forgive you, and it made me feel like shit. Like I wasn’t even a person worth apologizing to.”

His eyes were wide. “I didn’t mean for it to come off that way. I’m sorry that it did. I just offered it because I knew it would be something you were interested in. I’ll back off with stuff like that if it's what you want.”

“It’s what I want.”

“Okay.” And that was that. He went back to cleaning up my kitchen and I remained sitting in my barstool, a little dumbfounded at what was happening. “How was the movie?”

I blinked. “What?”

“Captain Marvel. How was it? I wasn’t lying when I said I had tickets to the premiere and I want to know if it’s worth going out to LA to see it. I’ve missed a couple of the Marvel movies, so I might be a bit lost, but do you think I could follow the plot without having to Wikipedia the rest of the movies?”

Harry Styles was asking me about Marvel. I felt like I had stepped into some kind of Twilight Zone. Back in secondary school, he would have laughed if I gushed about the movie. I’d like to believe the Harry in front of me wouldn’t do the same, but I was still hesitant and unsure around him. “It was good,” I settled on finally, retreating back into my bubble of self-preservation.

“Good. I’m glad you liked it. I know you were looking forward to it. Who’s on AC this week?”

“You don’t have to pretend to be interested, Harry.”

His fingers stilled, and he stared at my sink for a few seconds. I knew once again I had said the wrong thing, but I was standing my ground for this one. I wasn’t going to let him get mad that I was hesitant and unsure to share stuff with him. “I’m not pretending. I’ve been listening,” he said after a few moments of awkward silence. “I was wondering if it was going to be anyone I knew.”

“Probably not. It’s my editor for the publishing company I’ve been working with.”

“Publishing company? You’re writing a book? That’s brilliant, Petra!”

I wasn't used to praise from Harry, which might have been why I looked at him a little dumbfounded. “Um, yeah. It should be published in a few months.”

“Will you sign a copy for me?”

“No,” I blurted without thinking about it. I regret it the second it left my mouth, but Harry seemed to take my answer in stride, if his nod was anything to go by.

“Alright, that’s fine. I’m going to buy my own copy, though.”

“I don’t know why I said that. Of course I’ll sign it. Sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry for your emotions, Petra. You’ve got a right to every single one of them.” A slow grin came across his face. “Unless your emotions cause you to physically harm Benjamin. Then, I’m afraid I’ll have to intervene.”

“Do you just go around telling people what a shit plant mum I am?”

He laughed, tossing his head back. It was then that I was struck how gorgeous Harry truly was. Sure, I had known it back in secondary school, but his personality had made him ugly in my eyes. Now, however, I couldn’t deny it, especially when he was smiling at me and doing my dishes in the middle of my kitchen. The shorter hair suited him, though I was fairly certain the longer hair would as well. He was unfairly beautiful.

He had said last night that he wished he could be beautiful inside and out, but he was already halfway there.

“I wasn’t sure that if in your anger you would have harmed him. I’m glad to see I was wrong.”

“Shut up, you oversized Etch-a-Sketch,” I growled. “Who the fuck gets a butterfly tattooed on their stomach?”

He couldn’t hear me over the sound of his own chuckling. When he was done with the dishes, he made his way over to where his clothes were resting, putting the ridiculously bright trousers back on over his pants. The shirt was a little more tame than some of the ones I’d seen in pictures, and I was happy that his torso was covered. I felt like having him half-naked in my kitchen was going too fast too quickly. There was still a hesitant wariness that I felt when I saw him.

“Would you ever get a tattoo?” he asked curiously as he pulled on his shoes.

I hadn’t really ever thought about it. The idea wasn’t one I disliked, but I just hadn’t gotten around to sitting down and debating what I might like to have on my skin. “I don’t know. Why?”

He shrugged. “Just trying to get to know you better. I feel like I know nothing about you.”

The idea of Harry wanting to get to know me made me squirm a little in my seat. “Oh.”

“You could get something from Lord of the Rings or Harry Potter. Some of the artists I’ve gone to would make a tattoo like that look incredible. Come to think of it, I actually think one of my guys has the death eater symbol tattooed on his arm.”

While that was incredibly awesome (I told Harry so), I didn’t think I would want something from a fandom tattooed on my body. It wasn’t that I thought my love for it would diminish, as I was...well, me. But when I thought of tattoos, I thought of something much more personal and intimate. Tattoos didn’t always have to have some deep or hidden meaning, as exhibited by some of Harry’s doodle-like ink, but to me, I would want it to mean something.

“Vive libremente,” I said. I had been so deep in my thoughts that I hadn’t realized he was still talking and I had just interrupted him. He stared at me questioningly. “That’s, um, what I would get tattooed. If I ever did.”

“What does it mean?”

“Live freely.” Because wasn’t that what I was trying to get to? To the point in my life where I could live my life the way I wanted to, without interference from anyone else or my own insecurities. It was a concept Doctor Thorne had introduced to me, like carpe diem but so much more. Living freely wasn’t about seizing the day. It was about taking the mundane days and living them in a way that was unabashedly me.

“I didn’t know you spoke Spanish,” he commented.

“I don’t. I wish I did. I’ve never really learned it. I just know a couple of phrases.”

“Your parents...they were born in Cuba, right?”

Immediately, I was on the defensive. Harry had never directly insulted my heritage in school, but Nathan Penrose had. He had made comments about sending me back to where I belonged and how he didn’t truly believe I was Cuban because I hadn’t acted like it. The thought had always been confusing to me. I was too Cuban to fit in with his friends, but I was too English to belong in Cuba either. “Yes,” I said, and he could tell my voice was stiff.

I didn’t realize he had moved closer to me until I suddenly felt his hand on my arm. “I’m not trying to make you uncomfortable. Just asking questions.”

I swallowed. “Cuba is a hard subject for me.”

“Okay. We’ll talk about something else.”

And then he launched into a discussion about what order he needed to watch the Marvel movies in. We talked about them for what must have been an hour and a half before he stated that he had to leave, thanking me again for not letting him fall asleep at some random night club. I watched him leave my flat with a sinking feeling in my stomach.

I wanted to be friends with Harry Styles. But the thought of being friends with him, of letting him in completely, was terrifying to me. I wasn’t sure if I was strong enough to handle it.

A little chirp came from my phone the second I closed the door behind him.

harrystyles: I’m not nearly done in my journey of getting to know Petra Gallego. Therefore, I’m sending my number. I feel like texting will be easier. You don’t have to if you don’t want to. You have a choice. But I just wanted to send it. Have a good day, Petra.

Attached was his phone number. I stared at it for a couple of seconds before reluctantly making a contact for him and putting his number in.

Not quite the long journey you were expecting. I’m not that interesting.

His text bubbles popped up almost immediately. You’re the most interesting person I think I’ve ever met. There’s a journey there, trust me. Also, I’m requesting to follow you on Instagram. I’m tired of Gemma getting to see all your posts and not me.

I just smiled when the request came through.