#this 5 minute project had so many this was supposed to happen but it didn’ts

[dearcharliefnafcomic]

LITTLE PLASTICINE KINGER

He brings me such joy :)

He was supposed to be accompanied by a Pomni but I used all my white on him. That’s alright though, he deserves it <3

[tiddygame]

Ghoap god type au part 10!

Ao3 /// part 1 /// part 2 /// part 3 /// part 4 /// part 5 /// part 6 /// part 7 /// part 8 /// part 9 /// part 10

WERE ALMOST THERE LESSGO

Everyone say thank you to my friend Aster who has no interest in Call of Duty whatsoever, but let me talk to them about this fic for almost two fucking hours and use them as a rubber duck to fix some issues with the plot. Thank you, Aster! And sorry for ranting to you about Call of Duty fanfiction for TWO. FUCKING. HOURS. :,)

edit: why does the formatting always break after i post 😭

@imjustheretofightforlove / @pieckyghost / @life-as-a-gamergirl

...

The plan was simple, in theory.

Before the war began, tunnels had been dug into the mountain; At the time, their numbers, both of men and supplies, were outgrowing the fort, even with it being as big as it was. It was supposed to eventually become a store room, winding passageways connecting to create an outline.

Then war came knocking. Their supplies dwindled, they lost men, and the tunnels became nothing more than a forgotten project. Once they sat as an odd reminder of how far the fort had fallen; to have gone from carving through stone for extra room for all of their supplies to barely able to avoid hypothermia at night was a haunting ghost of their fall from grace.

But, perhaps now they could offer their salvation.

The Captain’s men were to set a scene; They hid the evidence of the medical center the once formidable fort had become and made it look like it had been bustling with life. 

Initially, they tossed around the idea of moving the sick and injured out but abandoned the idea quickly. It involved too much risk, too many variables; Some wouldn’t have survived the trip.

Instead they prepped the unused warehouse and war room. They moved the worst off into the buildings and those who had a better chance at fighting into the walls. Snow would cover the amount of movement that had happened over the course of executing their plan. 

The healthy few would  silently tell the story of a panicked and hasty retreat that looked as if it had happened just minutes prior.

They laid false tracks, leading to the tunnels. Tunnels that could perhaps be mistaken for an evacuation route by those unfamiliar with the area or a group in the rush of a promised battle. Tunnels that could trap those who charged in blindly. Tunnels that had one entrance, one exit.

And they waited, placing their trust in the reluctant apostle of a forgotten god.

…

Ghost had returned to camp well into the night; the air didn’t feel as frigid after sleeping on a mountain. The trek was much easier the second time, having two advantages with setting out earlier and not losing his fucking mind in a dead man’s cabin.

The general hadn’t asked him any questions. Just said that it was a shame he didn’t catch anything and that dinner had already been served.

That first night, Ghost fell in and out of a fitful sleep, unable to rest. He kept his weapons placed strategically, waiting for the ambush. There was no way they did not know of his betrayal.

Yet, the ambush never came. They marched on. 

It took weeks for the entire camp to make the journey that had taken him a single day. The snowy weather only worsened in protest of spring looming closer.

When the general sent out the platoon, Ghost was filled with so much  dread that he couldn’t feel anxious. He knew how to stay calm in dire situations, but this wasn’t that. He wasn’t calm, it was like he had hit his limit of how much stress he was able to process and was left hollow.

The morning was far too calm for the bloodshed that was bound to occur on either side. Tragedy was imminent and the sun hadn’t even crested the horizon.

Staring at the closed gates of the fortress in formation with men he should have called brother, he had a sinking feeling that he was going to be reunited with his old friend before the next sunrise.

He thought he might have heard that friend telling him to breathe.

Ghost was not the one leading the charge, no, he wasn’t trusted enough for that, but he was on the front lines. He was one of the first to push through the gates, to search for the enemy, and perhaps might have even been the one to pointedly stare at the obvious trail leading to the tunnels.

He may or may not have been right behind the commanding officer that followed the trail with his weapon drawn. 

And when they realized that the tunnels were nothing more than a circuitous dead end, they filed out in reverse order. The passages were not wide enough for two armored soldiers to pass by each other, forcing them to slowly and awkwardly work their way out of the commander’s shortsightedness one by one. 

The commanding officer, Ghost, and whatever other poor fools that had been stuck on the front line were still at the back when the Captain called to fire. 

Archers that had been lying in wait, hiding atop the walls, picked off the soldiers that made their way out one by one. The Captain’s men were greatly outnumbered, but those numbers offered no help when the only soldiers that made their way out were turned into pincushions.

It did not take them long to realize that the exit was impassable, and they fell back, looking to their commanding officer for an order.

Their commanding officer, whose head had been cleaved in two by someone who was once on their side. Some were frozen in fear, some charged towards the defector, and some attempted to flee. 

Those with delusions of bravery were cut down quickly, same went for the ones that froze. As for the rest, the traitor found a perverse satisfaction from attacking the back of a fleeing man, just as they had done to their enemies. 

The only light was from the few that had carried in torches. As they dropped, the shadows grew twisted and distorted, corrupted by the betrayal. 

The soldiers that made it to the exit found that swordsmen had joined the archers in blocking the exit. They turned back once more and saw the carnage caused by a wraith covered in the blood of their allies. 

They had a choice, not to live or die, but of which blade to be struck down by.

The mountain reeked of copper.

The sounds of a slaughter quietened.

The swordsmen did not holster their weapons. The archers did not drop their arrows. The Captain did not give the order to stand down. Each and every one of them waited to see who would exit the tunnels.

The silence was cut through by the sound of squelching, the sound of piles of corpses being stepped on as one man exited.

The traitor emerged, black cloak turned red. 

The Captain’s men cheered. 

The traitor did not.

They relit the fires that had been snuffed. The bodies were removed and treated with an undeserved amount of care as they were lined up and piled. Despite just cheering their deaths, they gave the felled enemy the mercy of a proper funeral.

They knew that their own allies had not been given the same treatment, but refused to stoop to the enemy’s level. The Captain watched as the pyre was lit. Soon after, they dispersed, preparing the fort for regular, day-to-day life.

The Captain stayed and kneeled by the roaring flame, tending to it, making sure it continued to burn. 

The traitor approached, stood next to him. He took off his armor piece by piece and tossed it onto the fire. It was soaked in blood, the insignia that once denoted him as one of the mighty general’s soldiers was hidden beneath the carnage that he had wrought. 

They both watched the fire.

The traitor walked towards the gate. The Captain stopped him. Thanked him. Held out his hand to shake. It was stared at for a long time.

The traitor accepted and shook his hand. He found that the Captain held money in his palm, an award for his treachery. Blood money. It was still accepted.

The Captain wore a gaze too kind for the size of the pyre behind him. Told the traitor that should he need it, he would have a roof for himself at the fort. One that did not require pledging a blade nor a life to his army.

The Captain said that they all owed him their lives.

The traitor disagreed but said nothing. He walked down the path to his steed, covered in the blood of his old allies, money in hand.

…

Ghost came back to himself sitting in a freezing river.

Ice and snow dotted the muddy banks in clumps. 

His horse was hitched to a tree. 

Water lapped at his neck; he was kneeling and hunched over enough that only his head was not submerged. Blood trailed away from him, following the flow of the river. 

His sword had been dropped on the snowy bank, pulled slightly by the water but still secure where it sat. His halberd had been buried into the riverbed, the ax slammed into the mud with enough force to hold it in place against the current.

First he realized someone was humming. 

Then he realized someone was holding his head to their chest. 

And then that they were wiping his face and neck, cleaning what the water could not reach.

Ghost closed his eyes and let himself collapse fully into Soap’s arms.

His tune did not stutter. He just held the broken man closer, pressing his lips against his hair and rocking them back and forth.

Ghost clung onto the arm stretched across his chest like it was a lifeline. And it might as well have been. Soap might as well have been. 

He couldn’t tell if he was breathing.

A former gladiator, forced to the ground and shaking because he had to kill people.

He was cold, but not as cold as he should have been. Submerged in a frozen river, he should have already been dead, but Soap didn’t let him feel more than a watery chill.

His fingers weren’t numb, yet he couldn’t feel them. He was trying. He wanted to feel the current, to feel the flow of water, but they might as well have not been there, refusing to respond.

He would never return to camp nor meet the general’s ire ever again.

There was a bird on the ground. A little waxwing. Hopping around and pecking the dirt. It scratched at the rocky bank for a moment before taking flight, landing in the branches of a leafless tree.

The little waxwing ruffled its feathers and shook its head. It called out a few times before taking off again, flying somewhere Ghost couldn’t watch it anymore. He wished it had lingered just a little longer.

He would have thought he was hyperventilating if not for the fact that he watched  his slow, steady puffs of air freeze in the wind.

After spending too long drifting away, Ghost found it within himself to ask, “What happens now?”

Soap hummed, “Find somewhere safe for tonight, eat something warm, and rest.”

He said it so simply without even having to think about it. It was obvious to Soap.

“And then after that?” Ghost asked, not able to accept that it was that easy.

“One step at a time,” he said gently, running a wet hand through his hair.

Ghost shook his head, his anxiety growing, his breathing getting quicker. He knew what Soap was trying to say, but to him it sounded like there was no plan. Like the only thing he could do was focus on tonight because there was no tomorrow. 

“Hey,” Soap pulled him back, pressing his lips to his temple, “Heroes for hire, right?”

“I’m—,” Ghost stuttered a moment before he remembered confiding in him about an old friend. “—Surprised you remember that,” he finished in a mumble. It was said so softly, a mortal man wouldn’t have heard it over the rush of water.

The god smiled, “Of course. You said it, didn’t you?”

The words bounced around in his mind but failed to process them.

“It’s up to you to live out the dream, for both of you.” Hope came so easily to Soap and Ghost would have given anything to have a fraction of his love for the world.

Soap paused the rocking as something spooked a small flock of birds that were sitting in a nearby tree. Ghost could see out of the corner of his eye the way the god glared over at them, daring anyone or anything to intrude on… whatever was happening.

As soon as Soap was certain that there was no imminent threat, he returned to his rocking and rested his head against the top of Ghost’s.

Ghost, ever the contrarian, cynically asked, “The dream of running around, demanding money from people in need?”

It was the very thing that had him itching for a fight when getting the kid medical attention; Someone taking advantage of another’s desperation for a little bit more change in their pocket. 

Was that the life Ghost was meant to strive for?

Despite the (surely by now, very annoying) pessimism, Soap easily amended, “Running free, helping people in exchange for a warm meal.”

“You remind me of him,” Ghost said before he could think better of it.

Soap was silent, Ghost didn’t know how long for. His thoughts were split between regret for voicing the comparison and guilt at the reminder of his long lost friend. When he found it within himself to pull far enough away to see Soap’s face, he found that he was wearing a soft smile.

Soap asked gently, “What’s his name?” 

Ghost wasn’t used to so much gentleness directed towards him of all people and struggled with the question. Ghost wanted to answer, but he couldn’t.

Soap, in all of his kindness, waited. Let him sit there and flounder under a simple task with enough patience to ascend him to divinity if he weren’t already a god.

Ghost took a deep breath and closed his eyes. 

He exhaled shakily.

“Roach. His name was Roach.”

Ghost felt years upon years of delayed grief hit him at once.

“He—” 

His voice broke. After all of that, his voice broke after six words. 

Fucking years of never-ending torment made bearable by one man’s presence and he didn’t have the decency to give out more than his name? Gods, the amount of fights he wanted to lose just so it would be over but kept going because of him and that was all Ghost had to offer? Six fucking words!?

“—Is very proud of you, I’m sure,” Soap finished his sentence for him, “And happy that you’ve come so far.”

I am.

“Both of you need to shut up,” Ghost grumbled, his lip curling at the nauseating words from both of them. 

He reopened his eyes slowly. The snow was still just as bright as before, the water was still moving, and the wind continued to shake empty tree branches.

He stood very slowly; He didn’t know how long he was kneeling for, but he did know that it was long enough for his legs to lock into place and one of his feet to fall asleep.

Soap stood with him, holding onto his arm to make sure he didn’t fall. He couldn’t be embarrassed, he certainly needed the help (not to mention he had done the same thing to Soap not too long ago). 

With his foot only half-assedly responding, he limped towards Taxes. Soap did not let go until Ghost grabbed onto her and started petting her mane. 

It took Ghost far too long to realize that his clothes were inexplicably dry. It should have been the first thing he noticed as soon as he stood, and yet…

He couldn’t afford to get lost in his own head again. 

Ghost removed his gloves to feel the coarse hair of Taxes’s winter coat beneath his hands and stared down at his feet, noting any and every detail about the snow and twigs beneath him.

Soap grabbed his weapons from the river for him and set them against the tree. Part of the ax and speartip were muddy, a line showing where they had been sunk into the riverbed. 

He watched, entranced, as the water on the blades frosted over and coated the metal in a sheen of white. He couldn’t tell how cold it was with the god shielding him from most of it, but if it froze that quickly…

It only served as yet another testament to how much Soap did for him with little to nothing in return. 

There was a tangle in Taxes’s mane.

He brushed through it slowly. Soap patted Ghost’s shoulder and let his hand linger there. Part of Ghost wondered if the god was as touch-starved as he was.

“Do you know where the nearest town is?” Soap asked. He was probably about to have to leave again.

Ghost nodded slowly. 

Ghost was going to a town. To find a hotel. So he could rent a room. And stay there. Because he wasn’t going back to camp again. Ever. He couldn’t. 

And again, it was Soap who pulled him back. 

Soap dropped his hand to grab Ghost’s, squeezing it with that complicated look of emotions that Ghost wasn’t willing to unpack. Nothing was said, but Ghost squeezed his hand back.

They stared for a while, Ghost still trying to process how to function under the crushing weight of freedom and Soap doing whatever it is that Soap does.

Soon, the god was stepping back but did not let go of his hand. The complex array of emotions was taken over by one he knew very well: An unwilling goodbye. 

It was the sad smile of someone not wanting to leave but already anticipating their next reunion; Seeing it on Soap and about him made him feel… odd. There was a pain in his chest, but one he wanted to seek out instead of avoid. Ghost still managed to find guilt in causing Soap any negative emotion.

Soap said in a voice that was only just loud enough to be heard and no louder, “Well, I’ll… try to see you there.” 

He admitted the “trying” part reluctantly, as if ashamed by his own limits. Ghost wanted to reassure him that it was okay, but words were never his strong suit.

You should kiss his hand.

Ghost pulled Soap’s hand closer and pressed a kiss to Soap’s knuckles like some stupid scene from a stupid fairytale. As he pulled away, he rubbed his thumb across where he just kissed and let go.

Soap’s eyes were wide and a blush was just visible against his tan skin. Ghost felt pride well up from somewhere deep inside him; He, Ghost, a mortal man, just made Death blush.

“Until we meet again,” Ghost said with a sarcastically pompous tone and a burgeoning smile as he got on his horse, hoping a message that he himself wasn’t clear on was clear to Soap.

The god was still gawking at him, frozen in surprise even as Ghost rode towards the faint path in the snow. It wasn’t until he checked behind him and saw that the god was gone that his brain turned back on and practically screamed at him that he’s an idiot.

Because, yes, the god was frozen in shock, but why the fuck did he assume Soap was frozen because he was happy about Ghost kissing his hand?

Ghost closed his eyes and rubbed the bridge of his nose. 

This was the fucking bar fight thing all over again. He had assumed that Soap wanted or needed his help to get down and made a fool of himself back then, and the same had happened once more. 

Except worse. Because he just fucking kissed his hand. Unprompted.

Well… unprompted from Soap, at least.

Quit your whining. Soap’s a god, if he didn’t like it, he’d have done something about it.

Which was the same excuse he had given after the cabin.

I was correct then, and I’m correct now!

He buried his face in his hands. Gods, why didn’t Ghost just fucking ignore him like he always did? Everything would have been fine if he hadn’t acted on some stupid little voice inside his fucking head—

You’re gonna thank me when all of this is said and done.

Ghost couldn’t take it anymore and yelled in exasperation to an empty, snowy forest, “When all of what is said and done!?”

Predictably, the trees held no answer and he heard the faint echo of a familiar laugh from somewhere in his own head. Ghost resituated and mocked the voice, hoping his annoyance was clear.

The town was hours away, and he’d spend every minute of the ride stewing in the agony of knowing he was an easily manipulated, stupid idiot. He sighed, although it quickly turned into a frustrated groan.

“Fuck you,” Ghost grumbled.

Aww, you’re so nice to me!

Ghost could picture his stupid shit-eating grin without even being able to see him. He shook his head and reminded himself that he was angry at him and shouldn’t smile at his joke. Fucker.

…

The room he had been given was comfortably small, most of the area taken up by a large bed centered on one of the walls, with a floor that creaked every time he shifted his weight.

Most of the light streamed in from the windows that overlooked the tree line although a few dim lanterns were dotted about the room. A wood stove in the corner was working to fend off the frigid weather with a small table and chairs under one of the windows.

Ghost barely took the time to check the room before dropping his gear and outerwear unceremoniously to the floor. It was warmer than what he would have expected and the bed was calling his name even though it couldn’t have been past noon.

He still needed to give the god an offering, both as a part of his daily routine and as a thanks. Ghost couldn’t help but yearn for when it was warm enough for him to go searching for Soap’s temples.

He missed the thrill of exploration, the rewarding feeling upon properly reading the environmental clues, and comfort once near one of his old shrines. As soon as spring began to scare away the snow or he was far enough south for it to warm up, he’d have to find one again.

He stared at the ceiling above him in case it had any ideas for possible offerings hidden in the wood grain. Nope. But the bed was more comfortable than he expected.

The quilt overtop of it was rough, scratchy, and heavy in a way that he knew he would not struggle to stay warm that night — It reminded him of one his mother had made years and years ago. The unrefined stitching was charming; whoever made it cared more about functionality than looks and wanted something warm as opposed to pretty.

Uncomfortable, lumpy pillows sat against the headboard. The last time he had slept with an actual pillow was… probably back in Soap’s temple after the bookstore debacle. (He still had no idea where Soap had gotten it and the blanket from).

Sure, most people would probably call it pretty shitty, but he wasn’t on a cot, in a sleeping bag, or staring up at a canvas tent. To him, it was perfect.

While he was cold, he did not get under the covers. He knew that he was lying to himself that he would be able to stay awake if he did.

But he definitely wasn’t lying to himself about staying awake as long as he just laid on top of the blankets. The fact that he blinked and suddenly the sun was much closer to the horizon than it had been a moment ago meant nothing.

The cause of his vexation was sitting at the table. Soap was staring out the window with his chin propped up on his hand, Ghost could only see the back of his head. He was tapping his fingers against his arm.

Ghost reluctantly sat up and stretched, afterwards having to blink several times for the world to return to normal.

“I was wondering when you were going to wake up,” Soap commented without turning away from the window.

“Should’ve woken me, then,” Ghost grumbled. He was surprised by the rasp in his own voice, making a face of confusion, only then realizing how deeply he must have slept. He moved his legs over the side of the bed like he was going to stand, but as soon as he realized that standing meant leaving the bed, he changed his mind.

Soap chuckled quietly, now looking at him. “I’d rather kill myself than interrupt your sleep.”

“Fucking hell! Alright, gods…” Ghost responded as if he wouldn’t make a similarly grim joke. “How long have you been waiting?” he asked, fruitlessly trying to rub the sleep from his eyes.

“Not long.” Soap answered fast enough that Ghost knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that he was lying. He rubbed his eyes harder, now wondering how long Soap had to wait on him.

When he finished, he found Soap staring at him. As soon as he saw that Ghost had noticed him, Soap looked away, shifting in his chair and messing with his hands.

It was Ghost’s turn to stare now as he tried to figure out what made him so antsy and… was he blushing? What— 

Oh yeah. 

That.

Fuck.

How does he even begin to apologize for kissing Soap’s hand?

Tell him you want to kiss him on the lips.

Ghost wanted to throw something out the window. That stupid little voice was the very reason he was in this fucking predicament to begin with!

Oh, boo hoo. Now kiss.

Ghost took a shaky breath. “I’m sorry about earlier—”

“I’m sorry I made you—”

They started speaking at the same time, both apologizing but cutting each other off before the reason for the apology could be revealed. They paused and a slightly awkward laugh was shared as a tense air fell over them.

“You first,” Ghost said before Soap could, delaying the inevitable.

“I’m sorry I made you do— well— all of this,” Soap said, looking anywhere but at Ghost, gesturing around.

“All of what?” Ghost asked.

“This,” Soap said again. “The— The betrayal, the cabin, the ambush— all of it.” He finally looked back at Ghost, his voice filled with regret. “I’m glad you’re not there any more—” If he said it with any more anger, smoke would have been pouring from his lips. “—But I wish it hadn’t come with… everything else.”

Ghost sighed sadly, upset at the idea that Soap believed he owed an apology for pushing him to leave the general’s side. “Soap—”

“Nope! Your turn! What do you think you have to apologize for?” he interrupted quickly, his tone pulling a 180 with a hypocritical denial to hear any push back on whether he needed to apologize. 

The last part of his statement didn’t make any sense; It should have been obvious why he was apologizing. Ghost had just kissed his hand out of nowhere, of course he needed to apologize for that. 

Did Soap somehow forget? Was it that bad that he immediately repressed it to the point he didn’t even remember Ghost’s fuck up? Did he just want to pretend it never happened and brush it aside in the hopes it wouldn’t happen again?

Well, Soap would be right about that — Ghost sure as shit wasn’t going to make a mistake of that magnitude again. He owed that much to Soap, at least. He couldn’t let himself establish this pattern of constantly and consistently overstepping—

“Ghost?”

His head shot up. Soap was looking at him concerned. 

Right. They were talking.

He started his apology, “I’m sorry about earlier…” 

But Ghost always has been and always will be a coward. “With— um, not giving you an offering.” Gods, what is wrong with him? Stupidly, he stuck to his lie. “I, I tried to think of something— of an offering—”

Unless pretending he wasn’t upset about it was a test to see if he’d still apologize without Soap having to mention it, to see if he was actually sorry, and he just failed.

He was staring firmly at a knot in the floorboards as his hands mindlessly picked at his nails. He was never sure if it was a habit he formed to distract his hands or if it was because he wanted the pain of picking them too far.

Breathe.

“Ghost.” 

Soap had stood up, was standing in front of him. His eyes widened, not having heard the god’s approach. He grabbed Ghost’s hands and pulled them apart. When his thumb absently moved to keep picking at his nails, Soap clasped their hands together to prevent the action. 

Soap, perfectly fine with turning Ghost’s world on its head with just a few words, said so softly, “I’ll tell you as many times as you need to hear it. You do not owe me. You have done more for me than I could ever put into words.” Soap brought his hands together and kissed his knuckles.

If Ghost wasn’t blushing before, he definitely was now. And he wasn’t even wearing his mask.

I FUCKING TOLD YOU, YOU STUPID LITTLE BITCH.

Ghost snorted. 

Which was not the right response to Soap’s heartfelt words, but damn if dead people don’t have awful timing. Knowing just how bad of a response it was made him chuckle more, shaking his head.

“I— I’m sorry—” He was still giggling.

“What?” Soap thankfully sounded more confused than offended.

“Roach, he—” Still giggling. He could feel the dead bastard’s smug grin in his sudden silence.

“What…? Wait, did he say something?” Soap asked, catching on. “He did, didn’t he? What did he say?” Soap had a growing smile, almost laughing along with Ghost even though he had yet to find out what was so funny.

“…Nothing,” Ghost said unconvincingly. Gods, how does he explain what he said without recounting every time the asshole demanded that he flirt with Soap.

“He was making fun of me, wasn’t he?”

“No, no—”

“No? Then what was it?”

“He’s mean to me,” Ghost tattled, trying to stop laughing.

Am not. Pussy.

“You’re not gonna tell me, are you?”

“You don’t want to know,” Ghost said honestly, shaking his head. Without thinking beyond just wanting to hide, he dropped his head and closed his eyes in embarrassment, the crown of his head resting against Soap’s sternum. 

Which solved his problem of wanting to hide, but created a new problem in not knowing what to do with his hands as Soap let go. 

Gods, so much was fucking happening and he was still barely awake.

Shakingly, hesitantly, his hands fell to Soap’s sides. He was still too caught up in his own issues for the forefront of his mind to pay much attention to the action, leaving his subconscious to decide that it was the right move.

His hands were clenched in a loose fist, as if his subconscious thought that it would fix any worry of the motion being mistaken for wandering, grabbing hands. 

Part of him, the stupid part, wanted to pull the god closer and, at first, he couldn’t figure out why. But Roach’s influence must be rubbing off on him because he realized he wanted a hug. 

How fucking embarrassing.

What was even more embarrassing was how much his blush worsened when Soap brought his own hands up, one brushing through his hair and one resting on his shoulder, occasionally rubbing half-circles with his thumb.

Recompense.

That was the only thing Ghost could think of in that moment. What could he do in return.

He just said you don’t need to give him anything, dumbass.

Yeah, thanks, dumbass, but he wanted to give him something. Ghost from a year ago would have scoffed at that idea and probably make fun of him too, but a year ago the only thing he had to look forward to was dying on the battlefield.

“Simon,” he said quietly without thinking about it a moment more.

“Hmm?” Soap asked quietly, neither of his hands pausing.

“My name— It’s Simon.” He lifted his head from where it was resting but did not look up. He would lose his nerve if he tried looking up at the god, so he decided that the third button from the bottom on Soap’s shirt would be just fine as a replacement.

It wasn’t the kind of offering the god needed, it didn’t have much of any meaning aside from another way to address him, but it meant something to Ghost, at least. The gods didn’t care about his weird personal plight with his real name given to him by his Mother versus the moniker bestowed upon him by those placing bets on when he’d die, but maybe it could mean something to Soap too.

“Thank you, Simon,” said Soap, still running his fingers through his hair.

And the way he said it, maybe it did mean as much to Soap as it did to Ghost. It was just his name, but it had tears welling up in his eyes. He did not know how long it had been since someone called him by his actual name.

(He did. It was the last thing Roach had said, his last words wasted on trying to save Ghost, calling out for him to move before acting for him.)

He still couldn’t look up at him, but he did manage to pull up enough to now be staring at the fifth button on his shirt. No one knowing him as anything other than Ghost was a self imposed punishment; He could have, at any given time, told people his name, but he didn’t.

And he wouldn’t. Not after how nice Soap said it. No, he would like to keep that to himself and Soap.

“I think my name was John.”

Ghost heard the way he said it. It was the same way Ghost had confessed his: quick and impulsive, saying it before your fears could talk you out of it. 

He finally pulled his eyes up, making eye contact for a split second before he settled for staring at some point on his cheek. Ghost was still sitting on the bed while Soap stood, the exaggerated height difference only making the moment of vulnerability that much more intimidating.

“John?” Ghost asked to confirm.

Soap inhaled shakily, like finally hearing someone else call him by his name confirmed hazy memories. “All of it’s fuzzy, but… I— I think it was.”

Ghost knew he would never understand the full weight of that confession but he knew that he felt happy that Soap trusted him enough for it, that Ghost may have been able to help him find solace with a question he might never be able to answer.

He would never know the origin of Death and it wasn’t a question he felt too pressed to find an answer for, not when he was sitting in front of it, fucking holding him. Knowing the name he had before becoming Death was more than enough for Ghost.

“Well, it’s nice to meet you Johnny,” Simon said, squeezing his hand.

“Is it?” Johnny asked, a question loaded with more than what was directly said.

While Simon did not know what all the god wanted to ask, he knew what his answer was regardless. “Yes, I think it is.” 

The hand that had been on his shoulder moved under his chin and slowly tilted his head up. 

It wasn’t the first time the god had done it, but his breath still hitched; the god did it the same way every time, always careful, always with a touch light enough to be a suggestion and nothing more, never forcing. And like every other time, he obliged.

Simon still dodged the eye contact like it would cause him physical pain if their eyes met, but he took in every other detail of Johnny’s face; The lingering blush, the expression that Simon couldn’t describe as anything other than awe even though that couldn’t be what it was, and (after a courage-gathering inhale) the eyes that were not looking at his own, but staring at his lips.

It took Ghost an embarrassing amount of time to realize, ‘Oh, he wants to kiss me.’

And as soon as he did, a million and one fears ran through his head, all about messing it up or misinterpreting it, but the closer Soap got, the more muffled they became. 

And, well, thinking had never done him any good, so he made an impulsive decision and crossed the last half of an inch between them.

Ghost hesitantly brought his hand to rest on Soap’s cheek, reassured when Soap did something similar and held the back of his neck. Soap held his hand there like it was protection, covering a weak spot during a moment of vulnerability. 

Vulnerable was really the only word he could use to describe it. Normally, where the word would bring fears of helplessness and going unprotected, he only felt comfort. Intimacy, his brain provided.

There was nothing he could do to try to describe it, partially because it broke his brain, but what else is new.

When they separated, Soap’s chest was moving like he was breathing heavy, like he had run out of air. Ghost smiled; He knew it was no physical limitation causing his perceived breathlessness. 

But they didn’t stay separated long. No, now that kissing was on the table, it was going to be taken fully advantage of.

Soap was the one to close the distance the second time, now holding Ghost’s face in both hands, one still on the back of his neck and the other positioned so his thumb could rub his cheek, just under his eye.

Ghost was completely out of his element but he trusted Soap. Johnny stepped closer, resting his knee on the bed next to one of Simon’s own. He almost laughed at himself; Earlier, he had scoffed at the fact that he wanted a hug, and now…

When the contact started to become too much and he remembered that he was supposed to be breathing, he tapped Soap’s wrist and pulled back. Soap thankfully understood, moving one hand back to his shoulder and the other ghosting the back of his neck. It was still contact, but much less all-encompassing; Something easier to digest without taking it away completely.

They sat in silence for a moment, processing and basking in the sudden development. Ghost felt like he was a kid sneaking into a closet to steal kisses from his sweetheart. The comparison made him blush more, and only then did he realize how red his cheeks must have been.

Simon wondered when the hell they had grown so close, wondered when the god managed to fully gain his trust without his notice.

It was anxiety-inducing and exhilarating all at once. And with Soap’s presence alone calming the anxious part of him, he was left with a delighted, fuzzy feeling that made the world feel a little more welcoming, a little bit brighter.

Ghost’s smile grew as he quietly teased, “And here I thought the kiss of Death was supposed to be a bad thing.”

Soap did something between a sigh and a scoff, like he wasn’t sure if he should take it as a compliment or a taunt. It seemed he took it as both, rolling his eyes even though the fond smile never left him.

“Oh, gods…” Ghost groaned in reluctant realization, his head falling against Johnny’s chest.

“What?” Johnny asked, his hands hovering, his worry palpable.

Simon pulled him closer as he groaned, “Roach is going to be so fucking smug.”

Damn fucking right I am, you stupid, lovable, delusionally oblivious bastard.

Soap huffed, clearly not having expected that development. “What do you mean he’s gonna be smug?”

Go on, tell him.

Ghost was now officially trying to hide against Soap, even though it was Soap he would want to hide from after this admission. He groaned like he was in grievous physical pain and (very) reluctantly admitted, “…Roach has been trying to tell me that you want to kiss me or that I should kiss you for weeks now.”

The words were so mumbled, Ghost hoped that Soap didn’t understand them. But of course he did. Simon heard Soap’s laugh as much as he felt it, and damn that pushy, dead freak, he wanted to burrow through the floorboards.

“Is… Is that why you kissed my hand in the forest?” Johnny asked, a grin audible in his voice.

He groaned again, just needing to make his annoyance known, and nodded against his chest. 

Soap’s arms landed on his back and held him, comforting him even as the traitor chuckled at Simon’s misery. “Well, he wasn’t wrong — And I’m very glad you chose to listen to him.”

Ghost held his breath for several seconds, though he had no idea what he was trying to achieve. When he breathed in again, he turned his head to the side, still resting against Soap but watching the sunset through the window.

I believe a thanks is in order.

“Thank you, Roach,” Ghost reluctantly mumbled, forgetting that Soap would hear it too. He needed another nap.

The god echoed his words, “Yes, thank you, Roach.”

Simon shook his head, “Don’t thank him too, his ego was already bad enough.”

“Well, I think he deserves it,” Johnny said, leaving Simon outnumbered. 

Ghost finally pulled his head up and stared at Soap. “That’s because you don’t have to listen to him—”

Soap quietened his petulant argument by kissing his forehead, stopping Ghost in his tracks and leaving him to blink blankly as his blush slowly grew worse as if they hadn’t kissed on the lips just a moment ago.

Haha, loser.

Simon looked away and resisted the urge to feel the spot the god kissed, who only chuckled at his reaction.

…

Although the sun had settled behind the mountains, he still braved the nighttime winds that rolled through the town. It had only been a few hours since he left Taxes in the hands of the local stable, but he couldn’t not check on her. So, to the stables he trekked.

The locals were wandering the street just fine, unfazed by the weather. Ghost, however, was not as acclimated.

It wasn’t long after Soap and Roach bullied him that the god had to leave, still bound by the limitations of his power. Ghost distantly wondered if he could give Johnny food offerings again and claim they were for dates… But the idea was left behind when it made him confront the idea that he might be dating a fucking god.

Flowers would still have to do… 

…Which are also something given on dates. Fuck.

He hugged the buildings, the store fronts and porches offered some protection from the wind that billowed down the street. There were more people out and about now, but even the nighttime rush was still quite quaint.

The hitching posts in front of the tavern were almost all taken. Fortunately, the building didn’t look too rowdy from where he glanced through the windows from the other side of the street; Soap would absolutely kill him if he got into another barfight.

When he finished trudging through all of the snow and got to the stable, he found that predictably, Taxes was fine, but that didn’t stop him from letting out a sigh of relief. When he went to pet her, she was reluctant for only a second or two before she remembered that she liked to be petted and demanded that Ghost continue and never stop.

He loved his stupid horse.

“We actually made it out, huh?” he mumbled, still not believing it himself.

Ghost’s small smile only grew when he realized that she didn’t even know that her life was about to change for the better; She’d never have to march into battle or deal with the general’s men ever again.

Tomorrow was going to be stressful, trying to figure out a plan of action and leave to avoid having to spend what little money he was given on another night in the town. But, now that he thought about it…

It was stupid beyond belief and proof that his survival instincts had been thoroughly fucked, but part of him considered taking the Captain up on his offer.

Out of one frying pan, into a second frying pan, out of that frying pan, and back into yet another fucking frying pan. Brilliant.

But he wasn’t indebted to the Captain, there was no reason for him to stay longer than necessary, and, well… 

Fucking hell, he wanted to trust what Captain Price had said about helping him, alright? Yes, it’s fucking stupid, but fuck he just wanted it to be true.

Maybe… Maybe he could “take a sabbatical” or some shit, follow through on the idea of finding a temple of Johnny’s, maybe shake the bastard by the collar and demand to know what the hell happens if you date a god, and then see if the Captain’s offer still stands.

It felt like it should have been suicidal to return to a military after finally breaking his chains, but— but he wanted to have hope, dammit.

Taxes let out an ear piercing whinny and stomped around, at which point Ghost realized she was probably pissed that he hadn’t brought her a treat. No doubt the stable hands had already given her something, but he’d like to keep the horse in his good graces.

Glancing around, there wasn’t anything left out in the stable for him to pilfer for her, meaning he’d have to go all the way back to his hotel room, get an apple or oatcake or something from his bag, and then come all the way back to give it to her.

“The lengths I go to for you…” Ghost mumbled in mock annoyance.

Softy.

“Shut up,” he demanded without any bite, rolling his eyes. He could still hear Roach’s chuckles echoing faintly from his own mind. He patted her nose in lieu of a goodbye and when he stepped away, she moved around in her stall, stomping some more. 

He shook his head and took a courage gathering inhale, dreading the frosty wind; He hoped Taxes appreciated that he was facing a snowstorm just to get her a snack. 

Making sure his cloak was pulled tight, he stepped into the snow, and made it three steps before hands grabbed him and his world went dark.

[lol-jackles]

I understand producers wanting a no risk lead and Jared earned that credibility and reputation. I don’t disagree with everything you said about Jared.

But I’m still surprised that Jensen didn’t earn the same reputation being co-lead and surprised he has not been given the opportunity to lead or co- lead again on another show. He seemed to have built a strong reputation with directors and producers and execs in the industry so shouldn’t he be on that same short list? I just don’t get what jensen is missing that jared or max theriot, Tom Ellis or Justin Hartley seems to have. What is that “x” factor?

The work he did on Smallville, Spn, Big Sky and The Boys, why didn’t that earn him points to have studio execs ensure he stays employed and part of a show?

Even in an industry that 97% are unemployed, Jensen seems to be a standout actor that gets constantly overlooked. Why?

Jensen was going to be a lead in Greg Bertlanti's unnamed project, but then Zaslav happened. But you ask a very good question on why the networks' bean counters don't have him on a Short List.

First, my wild guess is while Jensen's scene stealing talent improves the episode he's in, it's not the same as having screen presence to create a story, which is a must for lead actors to carry a show. For example, Jared's two-minute screentime in "The End" was not scene stealing, he became Lucifer for the sake of the story and left a memorable impact on the viewers' impression.

Think of every time spin-offs were created to capitalize on the scene stealers’ popularity, only for the scene stealers “special-ness” to evaporate into the ether when they have to carry the show by themselves.  Rebel Wilson had her own tv show called Super Fun Night. but it failed because fans expected to see the whacky side kick persona, but instead got a Rebel Wilson playing a normal woman who is sometimes socially awkward.

Second, Jensen has a bit of a branding problem.  If an actor doesn't understand what their brand is, then how do you expect casting directors to see it as well?  

Actors make the mistake of trying to please every customer by changing who they are and not understanding that getting hired starts with choosing a brand for themselves and sticking to it.  Say you own an Italian restaurant and I come in and say, “Oh, gosh! You know what? I want Mexican food.” And then you say, Okay, we’re cooking Mexican food now.”   This is what a lot of actors do.

I used to joke that Jensen was like an active from the show The Dollhouse. Actives are neutral human husks until they're downloaded a personality to carry out a specific mission.  You don't know what the true nature of an active unless you're willing to watch several episodes to look for clue crumbs to their innate personalities.  

I tell young aspiring actors on how to discover their brand by pretending to write a profile for an online dating site.  People usually don't write descriptive sentences but use adjectives: funny, athletic, intense, quirky, great smile, etc.  To help them along, ask their trusted friends and family members to make a list of 5 qualities that pop into their heads.  Then use the impression that appear over and over again because now you know that is you, your essence.

Too many times actors wait for an agent or manager to show up and tell them who they are. Or they ask me, “what do you think I am?". Actors have to decide for themselves and figure out their acting “singularity”  -- that exclusive combination of attitudes and behaviors that make them an original even when they're typecasted. Some people describe Jensen as a version of Dean-lite, but that doesn't make Jensen an original then.

Third, Jensen is not a natural born-leader. Most of us aren't, but like acting, you can constantly work on the craft. Leaders are supposed to protect their team, but Jensen was still soft-bashing Jessica Alba twenty years later. I don't care if Jessicca was a bitch, a real man is not supposed to betray a woman’s confidence. He can still talk about the difficulties of working with Jessica while respecting the position she was in and up against. In contrast, Jared immediately defended his female co-stars when it was popular to dunk of them: the Olsen twins, Paris Hilton, and Snookie.

[mckiwi]

Christmas is Better Spent Together

Chapter Five: 1968

Read on AO3

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Rating: General Audiences

Categories: Gen, M/M

Fandom: Good Omens

Relationships: Aziraphale & Crowley, Aziraphale/Crowley

Characters: Aziraphale, Crowley

Words: 789

7 times Aziraphale and Crowley spent Christmas together (and 1 time they didn't)

Kennedy Space Center, Florida, USA - December 21st, 1968

“It’s a lot bigger in person,” Aziraphale said, staring out across the horizon to the space shuttle. 

“I know! It’s great, isn’t it?” Crowley exclaimed, smiling ear to ear. Aziraphale had rarely, if ever, seen the Demon this excited. It was as endearing as it was disturbing. “First humans to ever orbit the moon! Ha! Soon enough they’ll be walking on it! Wouldn’t that be something? Oh, I can’t wait!”

“Apollo is an interesting name choice, I think. Greek god of the sun.” Aziraphale commented, noticing the ship’s name. 

“They’re trying to get to the stars, angel.” My stars went unsaid. Crowley had never told Aziraphale of his time before the Fall. He had never once mentioned his role in creation or his fascination with the cosmos. Yet, sometimes, Aziraphale would look at him the same way that Angel did all those millennia ago, and Crowley thinks his angel might already know. Might remember. 

Aziraphale looked at the Fallen Angel beside him. He looked at the sharp features highlighted in the first rays of the rising sun, just the same as it did during the very star’s creation. “Indeed they are, dear boy, and look how far they’ve come.”

Crowley’s soft smile turned prideful, “You know, this is probably my favourite project I’ve done so far. Don’t get me wrong, the whole turning a motorway into Odegra thing is fantastic. Going great. We’re finishing up the plans for it now and they’re supposed to start building it in the early 70s. But this ‘Space Race’ is… it’s fun, Aziraphale.”

The Angel raised a brow in surprise. “I didn’t realize this was some of your work. How many commendations have you gotten for having the two most powerful countries in the world compete over their research?”

“None, and there won’t be any,” Crowley admitted. “I don’t plan on reporting to Hell over this. This is a personal investment. There’s nothing evil about seeking out knowledge.”

“You told Adam and Eve the same thing and look what happened,” Aziraphale pointed out, not unkindly. 

Crowley gestured to the thousands of people around them, anxiously awaiting the Apollo 8 launch. “This happened! I may have regrets, but giving Eve that apple is not one of them.”

Aziraphale pondered the other’s words, then chuckled to himself, “Imagine that. Knowledge spread worldwide because of an apple.”

The Demon’s eyes lit up almost immediately. His formerly prideful smirk turned downright devious. “Apple. Now there’s an idea.”

Before Aziraphale could contemplate the landslide of technology developments he’d indirectly just inspired, a countdown started. 

“10… 9…”

Thousands of people gathered. 

“8… 7…” 

Thousands of backgrounds unified. 

“6… 5…”

Thousands of voices heard. 

“4… 3…”

Crowley watched something breathtaking. Aziraphale watched Crowley.

“2… 1…”

Thousands of years shared. 

“Takeoff.”

They all came together and joined in the wake of something unprecedented. 

—————

Soho, London, England - December 24th, 1968

“There we are! All set up and ready to go.” Crowley stated, standing over the bulky television set he’d brought over from his flat. He turned the television on and tuned it to NASA’s broadcast before throwing himself onto the sofa beside Aziraphale’s. 

(The TV wasn’t tuned to pick up the broadcast’s signal, but Crowley didn’t know that, and so the TV didn’t either and opened to the correct channel anyway.)

Aziraphale stared at the screen in confusion. “So they’re meant to be making an announcement?”

“Yup. Any minute now.” Crowley confirmed. “I bet it’s gonna be something cool. ‘Humanity has brought light to the dark side of the moon’ or something poetic like that.”

Aziraphale sat back in his chair, at ease. “Humanity does love their literature.”

Crowley hummed in agreement, “Sounds like someone else I know.”

Static crackled and an image appeared on the screen. Something round and pale. Crowley sat on the edge of his seat while Aziraphale gaped, “Is that–”

“Yeh!”

“The moon?”

“Yea! They did it, angel! They really did it! Ha!” Crowley barked a laugh and his hands flew to the back of his head. “They made it!” 

“We are now approaching lunar sunrise,” a voice sounded through the static. “And uh, for all the people back on Earth, the crew of Apollo 8 has a message that we would like to send to you.” 

Crowley leaned in eagerly. 

“In the Beginning, God created the Hea–”

“What kind of bollocks is this?!” Crowley snapped in disbelief, much to Aziraphale’s amusement. Despite the harsh words, Crowley couldn’t find it in himself to quite hate the Book of Genesis, not with its third chapter.

“–And from the crew of Apollo 8, we close with good night, good luck, Merry Christmas, and God bless all of you on the good Earth.”

[liminalkittyfics]

I was tagged by @tracksuitponytail.

1. List of works posted this year:

I posted four public fics this year, in addition to a handful of anonymous ones.

Completed the last six chapters of Big Yellow Taxi after taking an eight-month hiatus.

In An Octopus’s Garden - a last-minute idea posted for the comfort fic fest

Not having a breakdown! (I’m just here for the kid.) for the omega harry fic fest on twitter

Find a light, hold tight - a Hanukkah fic!

2. Work you are most proud of (and why):

Although I’m proud of myself for finishing Big Yellow Taxi, and proud of the crafting of Breakdown!, I’m most proud of Find a light, as initially I planned on posting anonymously. I’m very proud of the characters, especially the original character of Evan.

3. Work you are least proud of (and why):

Octopus’s Garden. I’m so happy that people are reading it and enjoying it, and I do too! But… it feels a little shallow, even if it’s supposed to just serve this one-stop purpose.

4. A favorite excerpt of your writing:

It was like every wall was a bed for them to press each other against, like every second was an opportunity to make up for every millennia their souls had been apart. Louis had never felt like this, never been had like this either. He felt strong and delicate at once, worshipped and craved, on fire.

5. Share or describe a favorite review you received:

It’s not one comment in particular, but the general reaction to Breakdown! has been fascinating! While many people have prefaced their comments with something along the lines of either “I don’t normally read cheating fics…” or “I don’t condone cheating but…”, I can’t help but feel proud that Breakdown! got people to push their comfort zones a bit when it comes to fanfiction.

6. A time when writing was really, really hard:

Picking up Big Yellow Taxi again after taking a hiatus was really hard. While I was doing that, I tried and failed to plot out a fic I was excited about for the 1D Omegaverse Fic Fest. Big Yellow Taxi had gotten away from me as I got lost in the trap of trying to document every moment of every day. Yeah, it was just really really hard, but having cheerleaders helped immensely to keep the momentum.

7. A scene or character you wrote that surprised you:

All of Breakdown!. Seriously, every moment was a surprise to me, especially under the structure of the fic that I developed as I wrote - tying the flashbacks to the present via a common thread (image, word, feeling, etc). I’ve always been really good at working within a framework, and the challenge of this one stoked so much creativity. I really sometimes didn’t know what was going to happen in the next scene! I think the best writing experiences are when your characters take over and you end up just reporting on them.

8. How did you grow as a writer this year:

This year, promoted my works. I’ve always been a bit hesitant to connect my accounts to my writing, but it’s more fun this way to interact with people and talk with them about my fics. This year, I also challenged myself not to get so bogged down in details or documentation, a challenge which in part played into the structure of Breakdown!.

9. How do you hope to grow next year:

Next year, I hope to be more comfortable in that more abstractionist, impressionist writing style that I’m such a slut for.

10. Who was your greatest positive influence this year as a writer (could be another writer or beta or cheerleader or muse etc etc):

@tiredtiredtz and @loudloudlove.

11. Anything from your real life show up in your writing this year:

Yes! I always sneak in little references to conversations with friends and the like. Also, the only reason I’m ever able to write well when it comes to emotions and love and healthy relationships is my girlfriend.

12. Any wisdom you can share with other writers:

Let the characters take the wheel.

13. Any projects you’re looking forward to starting (or finishing) in the new year:

Yes! I’ve been working on a divorced Louis x widowed Harry fic for about two years (dubbed RWYA). I feel so protective of it, and want to get all the characters just right. HOPEFULLY I’ll be able to complete it this year.

I’ve got so many WIPs in drafts. I just kinda write whatever comes to me. I haven’t let go of the failed omegaverse fic fest idea…

I also have been writing a mega church au that I should probably finish too!

14. Tag three writers whose answers you’d like to read. ;)

@tiredtiredtz @loudloudlove and anyone who wants to do this as long as you tag me so i can read all about your writing 🙂

[heavenzscent]

Working Title : OUT OF OUR HANDS

WIP Rated: M

867 

The Mountains of Hizuru were as beautiful as they had looked in the history books. He rolled down the automobiles windows to allow the crisp coastal breeze to keep him up. The trip from Odiha to Hizuru had been a last minute one without much comfort. 

13 years had passed since Eren had trampled upon the world upon the citizens of the proud nation of the North Eastern sea. Luckily most of it was located upon mountainous islands full of caves which had served as natural bunkers. What had done many of the citizens and survivors had been lack of food. But still they stood. Not as old, grand and mysterious but still just as proud. 

He pulled over into a rest stop. In the walls they would bury or burn the dead. Burials where costly because their was little room for cemeteries it needed to be made useful. Here the cemeteries where different they where streaming with life, trees, ponds and hillsides. They doubled as parks. This one was dedicated to the victims of the rumbling. 

Their where statues made of marble and bronze of angels. Shoguns, emperors and heroes of the past. Alongside statues of those who had fallen from familymen who always helped the community and grandma’s. Their stories written on plaques in both Hizuruan and Eldian. Every tree and statue had a story written upon it. Some where beginning to grow out of eyelevel becoming last to future eyes. 

In the center was a large marble structure that contained all the names of those lost in Hizuru in their complicated writing. 

“Ambassador!” 

He turned around and nodded his head at the frantic scout who he had left asleep in his backseat. 

“Please -uh– refrain from leaving sir.” 

“Sorry Yua. Just needed to stretch.” 

“Don’t do it again. It’s my job to protect you.” The young scout insisted. 

He sighed. Even during a time of relative peace in an empty park a soldiers duty never seased he supposed. 

“I used to be a soldier too yuh know?” 

“This is my first mission out the castle and My Empress trusted me with you.” 

Jean cocked his brow and huffed from his nose. Mikasa had

“Do you happen to know the reason for this visit.” 

The Yua simply shrugged in reply suddenly unable to look him in the eye. 

“How old are you, Miss Tanaka?” He asked taking one last look at the memorial. 

“18 years.” 

He hummed. She had been 5 at the time. He turned around and followed her back to the automobile. 

859

The palace was lovely and fresh but it lacked the grandeur of the original which he had only seen in paintings and photographs but one day it would be. Kiyomi boasted about how the building of the palace was part of the economic plan. It was a joint project between Paradise and Hizuru, the first of many she hoped. The lumber had been issued from the island and some of the stone as well. 

It had been a tactic to show peace and to share access to Hizurus knowledge and  industry. 

The workers who built it were in contract to work on all co-country projects and many of those in the village were on the state's payroll. 

Unlike Eldian palaces that were closed off and tall like fortresses the structure was wider, only going as high as three stories but usually just two . 

“How was it?” He asked Mikasa once they were left to themselves. She had been so quiet but her eyes looked so inquisitive the whole tour. 

“I wish we had more time to see it …before.” Jean nodded in agreement. “But I try not to dwell, I don’t like getting angry at him.” Jean nodded again. He understood it was a useless sort of anger. 

“Hey.” Jean whispered. Mikasa leaned in her face perplexed over the sudden shift in his demeanor. “Ring the bell.” He smirked, pointing at the button. 

“It’s my first night here.” Mikasa rolled her eyes. 

“Come on.” Jean pleaded. 

It didn’t take much convincing.Mikasa never needed much convincing when it came to Jean. 

Within the hour they had a cart full of food and drinks wheeled into their room by an awestruck servant girl who spoke slightly broken but good Eldian. They asked her to join them as they ate dessert and asked her about life in Hizuru, working at the palace and her life. 

To both Jean and Mikasa’s surprise what she said aligned closely with Kiyomis version of the truth. 

867

Once entering the grounds he saw her sons first. The twins, So and Kaito, were hitting a topiary with wood swords as their older brother, Wren, was supervising, pointing every which way yelling unintelligible commands. 

He had thought that he would resent maybe even hate the boys but he quickly found that he could never hate anything that came from Mikasa.

Yua yelled in Hizuran once the twins began climbing the decorative tree and bending it into odd shapes , causing Wren to begin crying and hollering to try to gain his authority back over the younger boys. 

The twins screamed and laughed until they recognized Yua stomping towards them. 

“See this is why I need a promotion.” She said in annoyance although her lips were tugged slightly upwards. 

Jean stopped to wait for Yua to fish the boys out of the bushes. 

He looked down, swearing he heard a small thump. 

Wren was standing in front of him as stiff and straight as he could muster and was giving him the old military salute of the walls. 

Jean mimicked the gesture and bowed. “Crowned Prince Wren.” He addressed the boy as though he were a commander, one day he would be after all. 

“Mr.Ambassador Jean.” The boy mimicked a soldier's tone. Jean tried his best not to laugh at the stern little boy. 

“How have you been? It's been five months.”  

“Yes, since the winter.” Wren was smart. Some six year olds barely knew the months or their birthdays. But the prince was smart like both his mother and father. 

“How has everything been since winter?” 

“I started mine schooling with the other children. Kaito and So still learn with the ummm babies.” Wren seemed quite smug. “My Hizuran and Eldian are very good my mommy and father say so. Oh! A-and uhhh Miss Ao is upset at father right now!”  

“Huh, why?”Jean asked, trying not to seem too interested.

Ao Tanaka was the emperor's mistress and very much the love of his life. At first Jean had hated the man for not loving Mikasa. The emperor had the person in which Jean coveted and was practically spitting upon the blessing. But with time he saw that the arrangement seemed to work for everyone and that the world was larger than what he had been raised to know after all. 

Ao was a kind woman and had been from the emperors home village in the countryside. They had grown up together and at one point thought they would make a life together.That was until the rumbling happened and he became the best and most supported candidate to lead the nation.

He was a kind man as well; Jean supposed. 

He wondered what that bastard had done. Ao can barely swat a fly without looking guilty; he couldn't imagine her being angry.Espcially not enough for even the kids to take notice.  

“I’m not sure… maybe you can cheer her up. Your very funny uncle!” 

“What happened to Ambassador.” Jean faked indignation. Wren simply laughed. He was a confident little boy. Most kids needed an adult on their knees to feel comfortable speaking but Wren could hold a conversation looking up with complete ease and cheerfulness. 

“I’ll try my best.” Jean bowed deeply which made the boy giggle with delight. No one really bowed to him unless the event was formal. Both Mikasa and her husband agreed that it would spoil the boys. 

So ran up to his brother muttering some unintelligible Hizuran/Eldian mishmash of a sentence (Wren seemed to understand the bilingual squishing of words perfectly.);Jean could swear he heard the word child. 

This was followed by another scolding from Yua trying to get the twins to sit on their hands for a few minutes until they calmed down. She quickly gave Jean a glance that left him uneasy. 

“I give up! Do as you will. I need to take the ambassador to your parents. I’m going to give Chiyo a whipping later.” She announced.He supposed that had been her replacement while she undertook her first mission. 

Wren gave him and Yua a final salute before they disappeared through the heavy palace doors. 

INFO SHEET

The Imperial family of Hizuru

Her majesty the Empress  Mikasa Ackerman

His majesty the Emperor Arata Azumabito-Ito 

Crowned Prince Wren Ackerman-Ito  (both sounds Eldian for the bird and sounds Hizuran) 

Prince So Ackerman-Ito

Prince Kaito Ackerman-Ito

Courtesan to the Emperor Ao Tanaka

Yua Tanaka, Scout and serves the Imperial family. 18 years old 5 at the time of the rumbling.

Kiyomi Azumabito - states woman and ambassador   

Unified Nations Federation

Jean Kirstein, Lead Ambassador of Eldia and The Unified Nations Federation. 

Reiner Braun, Ambassador of Eldia and The Unified Nations Federation. 

Connie Springer, Ambassador of Eldia and The United Nations Federation. 

Pieck Finger, Ambassador of Eldia and The United Nations Federation

The Government of Eldia 

Queen Historia Reiss of Eldia 

Armin Arlert, Minister of the Eldian Empire.

Annie Leonhart, Retired Ambassador, Assistant and body guard to the Minister

[oswildin]

What were your initial expectations for:

Infinity War

Endgame

Loki (both seasons)

Well, I did not expect Loki to die within the first 5 minutes that’s for sure. Ha ha ha ha… ha… ha… ah…

Anyway…

I don’t think I had any expectations. I think I just knew it was going to be rough. I did expect Loki to be more involved, maybe even staying by Thor’s side but then being lost in the snap. I did expect the original 6 to remain, cause it was their story. Their goodbye. I do personally think it would’ve been much better to fully close the chapter on their characters in Endgame and leave it with a clear choice of who was next to be in the Avengers. That’s something I think they’re still struggling with trying to decide. Like… who are the ‘new Avengers’? I couldn’t really tell you. And I think that’s where it’s gotten a bit muddy with all these new characters, yet it isn’t clear who is important to the overall story (obviously they’re all important but I mean like, who are our ‘main 6’?)

I watched a really interesting video essay yesterday actually about Endgame. I think I actually agree with a lot of the points they made, I highly recommend watching it.

Endgame to me felt like it could’ve been so much more. Infinity War was so tense, literally felt like life or death, and Endgame sort of felt… the weaker of the two? Again I don’t think I had many expectations, just that I knew of course they would find a way to undo what Thanos had done and that Tony would be the one to make the sacrifice.

I also don’t really understand why when they brought everyone back Thor couldn’t have said like ‘could you also like think about Loki & Heimdall and return them?’ Like they died by Thanos’ hand too… But anyway—

I think they were solid films, Infinity War was the better of the two. Endgame could’ve done so much more with the characters and explore the fact it was Civil War that ultimately caused the snap. It was a domino effect, Steve and Tony split, the team split and that left them weak. (I’m sorry, I’ve always been a Team Iron Man). That was the narrative the writers kept pushing yet it didn’t feel like it held much weight in Endgame?

As for the Loki series, I kinda expected it to be more about Loki jumping through time and causing chaos tbh - which apparently was one of the original pitches for it. I wish it had been more of a standalone thing and not so integral to the MCU, but also I am glad in a way that it is because it solidifies Loki’s importance in the timeline.

For season 2, it went a completely different way to what I expected. I expected the TVA to be fighting this so-called multiversal war that was such a big drive for why HWR was in the citadel at the end of time in the first place… Even Episode 1 of S2 felt like that was the direction it was heading but then it just… never happened? They made it sound like it would be an immediate issue but uh… Clearly not? Again, I think they changed the story from what it was supposed to be. I mean, that’s how it felt anyway.

“War is coming!” Says Loki. “I have to warn them!”

“Haha, no it’s not.” Says the writers who abandoned that plot. “Don’t worry about it.”

(Yes I’m aware that time moves differently in the TVA/at the end of time, blah blah blah, but from what we’d seen of Kang it felt like it was gonna be happening like… pronto. And then I expected it to lead into the Kang stuff for the main timeline with Loki at the helm, going down to build a team form different timelines and warn them of Kang in future projects but y’know, they went a different direction ig.)

[ezralovezuuuu]

okay hear me out… (lowercase intended)

it’s the marauders first year and james and peter are childhood friends and both grew up in wealthy families.

sirius was raised in france so his first language is french. he is also dyslexic and doesn’t know how to read because of the neglect he’s received from his parents. they told him that “blacks don’t read childish fantasy books” so he never bothered. he has severe trauma from his parents and has flashbacks quite frequently.

remus is raised in an al boys ophanage where they were not treated well and it was every man for himself. he was never told anything about his family other than they had given him up when he was 5. due to him becoming a werewolf he can’t remember anything before that but often has memories of a warm and sweet woman’s smile.

in the orphanage every child is hurt and has built up anger. there are often fights that break up between the boys. the smaller were bullied by the tougher ones and were often blamed for the things the older boys would do. when remus came in to the orphanage he was small and weak so he was a target for the older boys. he developed anger issues from this and had very low patience.

remus doesn’t tell any of his friends about him being a werewolf until their third year. up until every few days before the full moon he would be very hyper-aware of everything that was happening which often caused his anger to get worse by an extreme amount. this prevented him from being around many people and resulted in him isolating from people for the few days before the full moon. his friends would tell that he was distancing and would try to help by asking if he was alright and what was wrong. this caused him to be even more angry which made it very easy for him to start a fight quicker.

most of the classes that sirius is taking are to help him learn how to read/speak/write in english. he was recently diagnosed with dyslexia and is having trouble understanding what it means. he is unbelievably stressed and is taking tutoring classes after lessons each day so he has no time to just be him. his english is getting extremely better and is able to speak almost fluently.

one day in their second year they are assigned a project over the weekend in DADA which just so happened to be the weekend of the full moon.

sirius has asked james and remus to help him with the project since he was struggling with it and remus was not having a good day.

remus: i can’t right now, sirius. i have a headache and might pass out just by sitting on the sofa.

sirius: oh come onnn moony. you’re the smartest of us all!

remus: seriously pads. not right now.

sirius: fine. *turns to james” okay, james what does this mean? *points to a part of the directions he doesn’t understand*

james: it says that we’re supposed to read, umm *starts looking through his own book bag* oh! this book *plops it down on the desk that makes a loud noise*

remus: MERLIN JAMES. STOP IT.

james: woah mate, sorry i didn’t mean to drop it that hard. *he looks over to sirius who was also caught off guard by remus’ sudden outburst*

sirius: yea rem, he was just trying to help me.

remus: okay okay sorry, just carry on. *he’s massaging his temples to try to soothe his headache while shooing them back to their work with the other hand*

james: okay siri, so it’s saying that you need to read chapters 1-4 this week and write a summary of what you thought the message was.

sirius: summary? what’s a summary? *sirius looks confused and tries to read the paper to understand*

james: oh uh, summary… it’s like you’re wrapping up the whole story and writing what you the main point was.

sirius: sorry james, i don’t understand.

james: no! it’s completely fine! umm, here let’s ask pete.

they go and try to find peter for help but they couldn’t find him and it was five minutes from curfew.

james: *walking back into the common room* we’re just going to have to ask remus to explain it to you. okay?

sirius nods and they go up to their dorm to see remus moved up there when they were out looking for peter.

james: hey remus, mate? could you explain what summary means to siri? he doesn’t understand my explanation and we can’t find pete.

remus: OH MY GOD SIRIUS WHY DO YOU NOT KNOW ANYTHING?!?!

they all freeze as remus yells at sirius. remus immediately regrets yelling and james is just too shocked to speak. sirius just looks down and starts breathing heavily while nodding.

sirius: i- im- im sor- ry- im sorry

he’s hyperventilating and starting to cry as he runs out the door of their dorm while james follows after him.

and remus knows he fucked up.

[yacinthemorning]

Mother Hen

Chapter 3 of 6

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Summary: 5 times Jimmy was almost the mom friend, if not for his other quirks.

Ships: Jimmy & Scar (Friendship)

Warnings: Temporary Death

Scar was a man of many loves, and not one to hold those loves close to his heart. Whether it was talking Grian’s ear off about Star Wars, explaining to Mumbo the intricacies of theme park trickery, or sending absolutely everyone he knew pictures of Jellie falling asleep to his explanations, People tend to learn quite quickly what Scar loved.

Scar loved westerns. Scar loved Toy Story. Scar loved Jimmy. Most importantly, Scar loved the adrenaline from violently one-shotting people mid-flight with his bow. Probably not unexpected of a vex, but true nonetheless. Becoming a deputy happened to allow him to indulge in all these loves, consequence free from the law at that.

So, Scar would become deputy. Nothing could stop him. Nothing.

But, well, they could certainly hinder him.

“I need you to kill the Goblin and reclaim his badge.”

Scar blinked, taken aback by the request. “I’m sorry, what?”

The Sheriff huffed, putting on the hardest look he could muster, and pointed to his own badge. “He is no longer deputy, yet he refuses to hand it over. If you want to be promoted to full deputy, I’m going to need to know I can trust you. So, I need you to kill him and get it back.”

“Do I have to murder him? I mean I’m sure he can be reasoned with.” Scar suggested. Not that Scar didn’t enjoy a jolly little bit of murder, but this was the Empires server. With the hermits, they could kill for fun and forget it entirely five minutes later. On Empires, though, lore magic threaded itself into every action. And an assassination of the former deputy as ordered by the Sheriff of his new deputy certainly wasn’t an act that would go unwoven by the world’s tapestry, so to speak. Not very conducive to keeping good relations with someone who had Jellie hostage, at the very least.

But the Sheriff seemed sure. His expression only wavered back to Jimmy slightly when Scar gave him sad eyes. “He disrespected the law, Scar. He’s parading around pretending to still be a deputy!”

“But can’t I just snag it from a chest, or something?” Scar tried to insist.

The Sheriff shook his head. “No, I know him. He’ll have it on him. He never puts it down. In order to get it and send a message we must kill him.” 

It seemed excessive, but if the Sheriff was sure… Well, Scar still wasn’t totally on board. Maybe he could find a different way to get it back and just lie to the Sheriff?

So, he tried talking to Fwhip. The only result was the Goblin now knew Scar was ordered to kill him. Okay, so maybe it wasn’t the smartest move. Briefly, he considered asking Tango to reason with the pair. He didn’t have Scar’s silver tongue, but he was the only one who could repair Fwhip’s wonky redstone, and Jimmy would make any compromise to keep his rancher happy. Alas, by the time Scar considered it, the blazeborn was about five miles deep and seventy-two sleepless hours too far gone on a project in an entire other server. Until he snapped out of his redstone coma he was unreachable.

Maybe Grian could…?

But the only result of getting Grian involved was Jimmy fumbling out of his home half-dressed, wings still covered in pastel suds, screaming at them to put the wither skulls down. That, and a very disappointed look from Jimmy to Scar specifically. Hurt, betrayed even. Scar hadn’t even done anything that time, but he supposed that was the issue in Jimmy’s eyes. What was Scar supposed to do, though, tell Grian he couldn’t pull pranks? Didn’t Jimmy know parrots needed to be provided with plenty of mental stimuli?

So, Scar resigned himself. The least he could do was have a fun time with it and Hotguy the little Goblin. That surely had to impress the Sheriff. In-between construction of the trade street and appeasing Grian’s reign of terror he and the Sheriff formulated a plan.

“I’ll go in and distract him, saying I need to talk.” Jimmy explained. 

Scar nodded along while he placed planks. “And when you say the signal I swoop in and Hotguy him!”

“Exactly! He’ll never suspect it.”

“Oh, but he still has Jellie hostage…” 

Both men deflated. Jimmy’s feathers flatten, chewing on his lip as he tried very hard to think. “Oh, yeah. Um… You know what? We’ll save her while we’re at it!”

Well that certainly sounded like a plan Scar could get behind.

They snuck in at first, then the Sheriff went forth on his own to create the distraction. If Scar was honest, he was himself distracted most of the time by the gorgeous builds. The firs signal went unheard. Second time’s the charm. What Scar had not anticipated was how cramped and very underground Gobland was. Not ideal for flying and swooping and Hotguying a tiny little Goblin at all.

He missed.

The Goblin let out a shriek, at first diving for any cover, but then going for the lowest of lows. As Scar managed to knock at least one arrow into him he slipped between the bars of Jellie’s prison and used the poor darling as a kitty shield.

To his credit, the Sheriff stopped despite the seething rage in his expression as he shouted for the Goblin to hand over the badge. Scar landed beside him, trying desperately to line up a shot to finish the Goblin off, but it was far too late. Conniving, underhanded, and with a great eagerness, the Goblin took full advantage of Jimmy’s slip-up of kindness and stabbed him right through the heart.

Scar retreated, partly in fear but mostly in shame.

-

Jimmy woke up back in Tumble Town, alone and still reeling. How could their plan have gone so wrong? He didn’t bother to get up right away, instead just sending Scar a message to retreat and regroup another day.

Embarrassing seemed like an understatement. Of all things to stop them, it was a cat. Who knew if it was still alive, even? The Sheriff should have ignored it and gone for his enemy’s throat. He was the law, after all! Or his deputy should have done his job. How could he allow himself such a moment of weakness?

A meow echoed through the house. Norman pushed his way through the crack in the door, his deputy collar rattling as he leapt up onto the bed to greet Jimmy’s unexpected return. Despite his depression Jimmy smiled, reaching out to scratch Norman’s ears. “Hey big man. How’re the creepers doing?” He murmured.

Deputy Norman let out a long mrow. The Sheriff nodded. “I see. I see. Well, that’s good you were able to resolve it. Wouldn’t want any of our workers getting hurt.” He got a purr in response. 

Okay, so maybe there was room in the Sheriff’s heart for cat-related weaknesses. Maybe the Sheriff could stand to throw his deputy a bone when he tried, even if he failed. It was Jimmy’s role, he could play it how he liked.

That gave Jimmy an idea. An epiphany really. It was something Jimmy should have probably done long ago. With renewed vigor, he leapt to his feet, put on his hat, and went to find a lead.

-

Scar felt quite resigned to being fired when he met back up with the Sheriff the next day. How could he not be when he fumbled every step of the plan, resulting in his boss dying at his worst enemy’s hands? He even lost his sheriff badge in the chaos.

But the Sheriff didn’t ask to talk about that. The Sheriff asked to meet him at the trade street instead. When he reached the meeting spot Jimmy was already wandering around in awe at the buildings, poking his head around every corner. “Scar, this is amazing.” He said, excitement sparkling in his eyes.

Scar wasn’t quite sure what to do. He was expecting a hard conversation with the Sheriff, not compliments from Jimmy. But he was nothing if not a showman (conman), so he switched gears as smoothly as he could and threw his arms out towards the doors. “Well wait till you get a load of what’s inside! Come on, come on!”

More than movies or murder, Scar loved to build things for his friends. Things that would be useful, things that would make them smile, things that reminded both of them that they were indeed friends, of the fun times they had together. He liked to believe that shined through in his builds. At least, he hoped. When Jimmy’s expression lit up at every new part of the trade street Scar showed him, whether he understood what Scar was rambling on about or not, he felt confident it did.

“This is really something else, Scar.” Jimmy went on.

“This’ll make you one of the most powerful empires on the server, I reckon.” Scar tipped his hat with a grin.

There were a few more moments of wonder, but eventually Jimmy let out a sigh. His posture shifted slightly, placing his hands on his hips to hold himself a little taller. Ah, now Scar was going to have to talk to the Sheriff.

But the Sheriff’s expression hardly changed, even as he began to speak. “So, the assassination attempt…”

Scar quickly put his hands up in surrender. “I know. I’m so sorry, boss, I failed you.” He quickly admitted, hanging his head.

“No, no, don’t apologize.” The Sheriff insisted, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder. “Listen, you did your best. Now I’m not gonna say that went well, because it went everything but. But! You did your best.”

“Really?” Scar replied, a bit stunned.

The Sheriff nodded, then pulled back to reach into his pocket. “Yep. And besides that, Tumble Town has grown so much because of you. I reckon you well earned this by now.”

He reached over, and before Scar quite knew what was going on, he had already backed away. Scar looked down to see a shiny silver metal placed over the breast of his jacket. He let out a gasp. “Oh! Oh, really?”

“Really, really! I promote you from in-training to full deputy, Deputy Scar!” The Sheriff announced proudly. “Congratulations.”

An excited giggle escaped Scar as he fiddled with the badge. “I’m a deputy!”

“You are! We may have failed but you did your best, and that deserves a gold star in my books. Er, silver shield, at least.” The Sheriff explained, hand rubbing his neck. “Oh! And I have one more thing for you.”

Yellow wings suddenly spread wide and darted right out of the canyon. Scar fumbled to follow after him, summoning his own gangly wings to give chase. They landed not too far off along a path. At first Scar felt confused – there didn’t seem to be any new builds not made by Scar himself – but it was quickly washed away by a familiar little meow. 

Scar sucked in a breath, trying not to scream and scare away the skittish little grey and white creature hidden behind the fence post. Slowly and carefully, as all Jellies did in every world they met, she crawled her way over to Scar’s extended hand to give it a welcome rub. A purr almost immediately started up, and Scar thought he might cry. “You found her.”

“Of course. It was your condition, right?” Jim- The Sheriff explained. “You’ve done so much for me, it’s the least I could do.” 

Happily scooping up Jellie into his arms, Scar gave his boss a salute. “And I’ll continue to do so! I promise I’ll protect Tumble Town with my life!”

“That’s what I’m hoping!”

“By the way, Sheriff.” Scar started while he rubbed Jellie’s belly, a mischievous gleam in his eye. “Have you thought about what I said?”

He quirked an eyebrow. “What?”

“About the toy thing.”

“Scar.”

Scar pouted. “Woody’s my favourite character, though…”

A glare slowly melted into an amused smile. “Fine, I’ll think about it, Scar.” Sheriff Jimmy promised.

[bobohu4eva]

Ecstasy

Part 4 - Get You Alone

Characters: Reader x Baekhyun Feat. Chanyeol

Genre: Soloist AU, Smut, angst, fluff

WC: 5k

Tag List: @nana-banana @xzyxbbh @iluvybs @greasywall @endzii23 @scopoliax @silent-potato @baekyeonoreo

Warnings for this chapter: explicit smut, unprotected sex, brief violence/abuse.

A/N: Sorry it took to long but here it is y’all 🥴

Masterlist

Addiction (noun): Disorder characterized by compulsive engagement in rewarding stimuli despite adverse consequences

Work. 

As much as she would’ve loved to just lounge around with Baekhyun for another day, she still had a job, and other responsibilities, and the morning after their day out in the country together she found herself chugging coffee, barely dragging herself into work on time. It was for some sort of photoshoot that started way too early in the morning, the purpose of which she hadn't paid much attention to. She was just an assistant after all, it wasn’t like she was in charge of anything important yet with how new she still was at the company. 

However insignificant she might’ve felt, the head producer, her boss, still looked pretty displeased with her when he saw her walk onto set. He was a small, round man with a face that always looked a bit angry, but especially right then. 

“Where have you been?” He asked her before she even had the chance to shake his hand or introduce herself. 

“I’m sorry? I was told this shoot started at 6, it’s 5:58.” 

The man rolled his eyes, clearly annoyed. “Yeah. The shoot starts in two minutes. But everyone else has been here setting up for the last hour already.”

“Oh..” Her heart sank, she had really wanted to do well on this since it was her first ‘big’ project she was working on, or so she’d been told. 

“Yeah, ‘Oh.’ Next time we won’t be so lenient.” 

She quickly bowed, “I promise it won’t happen again, I’m really sorry.” 

She went on to introduce herself and he seemed to dismiss her after that, but she still wasn’t quite sure what she was supposed to be doing there. Before she’d mostly been in the office, just working on promotional stuff. After looking around for a moment, she reluctantly decided that she should ask him, before she ended up standing around wasting more time. 

“PD-nim, is there anything you need me to be doing right now?” 

He sighed at her question, looking increasingly irritated. “You should have a whole checklist, do you really pay that little attention? You need to get a headcount to make sure everyone’s here, check that all the equipment is set up correctly, make sure the set matches the concept sketches, and most of us are getting pretty hungry so you’ll need to order food. Oh and I think one of the photographers needed something, one of the cameras was acting up so you’ll need to get that fixed. Good luck.” 

And with that he walked off, pacing the other side of the room, just staring down at his phone.

She took a deep breath to calm herself, and tried her best to get started on everything he said. However, she still didn’t feel that she had the details she needed to do it all correctly. She did a head count, but she didn’t even know how many people were supposed to be there, and she wasn’t familiar with a lot of the equipment she was supposed to be checking on either, but she just did the best she could, asking everyone she could find (aside from her boss, who still seemed preoccupied), if things were all in order. 

After doing as well as she felt she could on her first few tasks, she decided to find the camera man who needed something for his camera. She hoped it was something relatively easy to fix, because she really didn’t know much about cameras, and luckily it was just a lens of some sort that he needed, and she was easily able to drive to a nearby store to get it. But when she got back, the head PD still looked pissed. 

“Did you leave the set in your own car? Not the company car?”

“There’s a company car?” 

“Are you fucking serious? If someone hit you we would have to pay for it, of course you take the company car! First you show up late and have no idea what to do, and now you can’t even get a few simple tasks done correctly, have you even gotten to the other things? Did you even check if the artist was ready? Or so much as look at the concept sketches?! You set everyone back almost a full hour already, you better pull your shit together real quick or this will be your last time on set, got it?” 

She felt the lump bubbling up in her throat, threatening to let out a sob, but she didn’t need to embarrass herself even more so she tried to keep it down, just nodding and turning away to try and make things right. If she’d known that set days would be this stressful, she wasn’t sure if she would’ve accepted the job at all, no matter how glamorous it seemed. If she’d been given all the information she needed ahead of time, of course she would’ve prepared herself better, but nobody had said anything to her prior to the shoot, from what her supervisor had told her the week before she thought she was just going to be watching and learning how things work. 

She tried to finish the rest of her tasks best she could, running the numbers to make sure there weren’t any last minute purchases that put them over budget, and when it was time to make sure everything matched the sketches, she realized she was going to have to ask him again, having no idea where else to find them. 

Compared to now, he’d really been holding back before, and several other members of the crew looked at her sympathetically as he began to yell at her. 

“Did you not prepare for this shoot at all? Do you even know what we’re shooting for? How do you ever expect to do well in this job if you can’t even listen to simple directions?! You should’ve spent all day yesterday getting ready for this shoot, but you never even showed up at the office to look at the sketches! If I’d known you’d be this useless I wouldn’t have had you here in the first place, running around like an idiot bothering me with all your stupid questions. Now go see if the artist is ready so we can finally get on with this mess, you’ve cost us enough time already.” 

There was no more holding back as the tears flowed in steady streams, and she once again nodded before turning to go look for hair and makeup, doing her best to wipe away most of the tears but with little success. When she finally found the dressing room she knocked lightly before opening the door, and her breath got caught in her throat when she saw who the artist was. 

She’d been so preoccupied with her other tasks she hadn’t even stopped to consider that it might be him this whole shoot was for. But with her luck, of course it was. Out of all the artists at the company, of course it would be him there on the day she fucked everything up. 

When she first saw him she froze, and her hands quickly flew to her face to wipe away more of the tears, the last thing she wanted was for him to know how terribly she was doing. But she quickly pulled herself together as well as she could, because she still had a job to do. 

“Hi, um, I just wanted to check that everything was going okay in here, we’re almost ready for you on set.” She spoke, probably too quickly for anyone to fully understand, before turning the corner into the hallway again, hiding her face in her hands as more tears came.  

Baekhyun was surprised to see her there, but he was even more surprised to see how upset she looked, and quickly followed her out into the hallway. When he turned the corner he found her sitting on the floor, quietly crying to herself. He crouched down next to her, taking her wrists in his hands to move them from where she was hiding her face. When she saw that he’d followed her out, she only cried more. 

“Y/n, sweetheart, what happened? Why are you crying?” He asked softly.

She just shook her head, still too embarrassed to speak. 

“Is someone giving you a hard time? If you tell me what happened, maybe I can help, but you have to tell me, okay?” 

Reluctantly, she nodded, and took a deep breath to steady herself before explaining it all to him. 

“I thought I was just going to be watching and learning how everything works today, because it’s my first time on a set like this, but then Mr Kim told me I have to do all this other stuff that I didn't know about and I did it all wrong and now everyones off track and it's all my fault.” 

Baekhyun still had her hands in his, rubbing soothing circles with his thumb as she choked out the words. 

“Nothing is off track though, I’m not even out of hair and makeup yet.” He chuckled, hoping it would help lighten her mood. “I’m sure you’re doing great. Did Mr Kim get mad at you?” 

She nodded solemnly, “He yelled at me in front of the whole crew.” 

At that he frowned, moving closer and giving her hands a gentle squeeze so she would look at him again. “What was he so mad about?” 

“I guess I was supposed to prepare a bunch of stuff ahead of time for this shoot, but nobody told me, last week they made it sound like I just needed to show up and someone would teach me all of this, but he wanted me checking the sets and camera equipment and everything and when I couldn’t do it like he wanted and had to keep asking questions he got mad.” 

Baekhyun let out a long sigh, gently tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “Mr Kim is being an asshole, all that stuff is his job, not yours. Don’t beat yourself up about it, okay? If you want you can stay in my dressing room with me until hair and makeup are done and then I can try and talk to him if he keeps giving you shit, alright?” 

She nodded and he stood up, extending a hand to help her up and she followed him back into the room, though she didn’t miss the look the stylists gave her as she walked in after him and sat down in the corner. To avoid any obvious awkwardness she just stayed on her phone as the hair and makeup girls finished getting him ready. It wasn’t long until they were done and she followed them back out to the set, hoping the PD wouldn’t humiliate her even more, but things just didn't seem to be going her way. 

“There you are,” He said, still looking more annoyed than usual as he lit a cigarette. “Will the food be here soon? Everyone’s starving.” 

She quickly bowed her head in apology, “I still need to order something, sorry for making everyone wait, I’ll do that right away.” 

“Fucking seriously?!” He raised his voice at her again, and this time Baekhyun watched, eyes narrowing as he continued to berate her. “You can’t even remember that? What the hell were you even doing wasting your time back there? Or is even that too difficult a job for your dumb ass?!” 

The tears were threatening to spill over again, and she was so fed up that she almost started yelling back, but Baekhyun was quicker. 

“Is that really necessary Mr Kim? She was in my dressing room, checking to see if I was ready, which by the way is usually your job, along with ordering food for everyone. So unless I missed something and she’s the one in charge now, you should be doing your job instead of yelling at some poor girl on her first day to do it all for you.”

He stayed quiet, narrowing his eyes at him. 

“And I’ll take care of the food, is everyone okay with Chinese?” He asked, pulling up a delivery app on his phone and looking around, and nobody seemed to object. “Glad that’s settled then.” He smiled, and she couldn’t help but grin a little at his response too. 

Mr Kim was visibly fuming, red faced and fists clenched but he knew he couldn’t say anything, Baekhyun was right and to argue with him would only make him look even worse to his crew. What he could do though, was make a point. He grabbed Baekhyun’s arm, wanked up one of the sleeves of his shirt, and pressed the lit cigarette into his skin. 

She watched as Baekhyun’s eyes went wide, and the room went dead silent. It stayed that way for a good several minutes as Mr Kim walked off set, until he showed back up, barking orders at everyone, including her. 

After a little while a girl a few years older than her named Tiffany introduced herself as part of the production team, and started showing her around, reassuring her that she wasn’t expected to do any of the things he had yelled at her about. Mr Kim was simply the absolute worst kind of person.

Soon the shoot was underway and she watched the whole ordeal go down, trying to pay attention to every part of the room, every aspect of the project, but he made it really difficult. How the hell was she supposed to focus on her job when he kept looking at her like that, and in full hair and makeup too. He looked almost criminally sexy. 

Eventually a break was called and she grimaced at how the three girls from hair makeup immediately swarmed him, tugging at his clothes and hair, dabbing away at his face, even his lips. There was no way they really needed to be doing all that, right? It just seemed like overkill to her, as far as she could tell he looked perfect before too. She was even less thrilled by how Baekhyun seemed to welcome it, talking and laughing with the girls as they continued their frenzied attack on him. She hated to say it, but the girls were all quite pretty, and she found herself wondering what their pasts with him looked like. If he’d slept with any of them before too, or anyone on set for that matter. If he was willing to hook up with her, it definitely wasn’t impossible. 

She hadn’t even realized how she was glaring at the whole scene until Baekhyun’s eyes met hers and he shot her a knowing smirk, dismissing the three girls and walking her way. One arm snaked around her waist, pulling her into himself and pressing a kiss below her ear.

“Am I wrong or were you just mentally scalping my team of stylists?” He whispered, a teasing edge to his low voice. 

“Maybe...” she hummed, giving his chest a light push to keep some space between them. “Don’t be so obvious, someone could see us.” 

While she enjoyed the attention, especially now with the three girls watching, there were still a lot of other people around and she didn’t want any of their opinions of her to become skewed just because of who she slept with. 

“Who cares what they see?” 

“I do!” She pouted, before concern took over her face, remembering what Mr Kim had done. “Is your arm okay?”

Baekhyun frowned, taking a deep breath before uttering a “Yeah”.

“That was so fucked up I can’t belive he would-” 

“I’m okay. It’s not that big of a deal.” 

“But-”

He cut her off as he took a step closer, close enough to feel her quick breaths against his lips.

“Admit it, you liked that my stylists saw us, didn’t you?” 

“What? I mean…maybe a little..” She saw him smirk. “But they were all over you for no reason! You should be glad too.” 

He stepped back, shrugging, and before he could respond they heard a call from the director to start setting up again. 

“Are you busy after this?” He asked as they made their way back. 

“Not really, why?” 

“Wanna go out later?” 

“Sure, what did you have in mind?” 

He shrugged, “We could get something to eat and then go to my place?” 

She accepted his invitation without a second thought, heart fluttering at what the night now promised. 

They were back on set where the camera crew, stylists, and various other staff were waiting and she was about to turn away towards the girl who’d been showing her around, but Baekhyun’s hand snuck its way into the back pocket of her pants, pulling her back to him. Her hands landed on his chest, faces only centimeters apart.

“Give me a kiss.” He whispered into the space between their lips. 

Cheeks flushed, she looked around to see if anyone was watching, and luckily everyone seemed preoccupied so she quickly pressed her lips to his. 

His hands moved to her waist and he held her there just a moment longer, before letting go and admiring the shy twinge of pink still on her face. 

“So cute,” he mumbled to himself as she walked across the room, looking back at him and smiling before she reached her guide from earlier. 

The rest of the shoot went fairly well, and she felt she was doing a pretty good job catching onto everything. Tiffany explained what her role would be on sets and what she should expect moving forward, and it all seemed pretty reasonable. Baekhyun kept doing his job too, looking handsome as ever as they changed out the sets and his outfits, moving from one scene to another. 

She thought it was funny how much more reserved the stylists were around him after witnessing their little display, and one of the girls even looked blatantly annoyed by it. Of course it wasn’t like they were actually together, but it still felt nice to know that she was the one who’d be in his bed later that night, not any of them. 

She’d been getting along well with Tiffany, and as the shoot was coming to an end the older girl couldn’t help but comment, “So you and Baekhyun, huh?” 

The question took her off guard, and she almost choked on the water she’d just taken a sip of. “You saw that?” She grimaced. 

“Everyone did,” She laughed, “It's really not that big a deal, just… different, I guess.” 

“Different how?” 

“I mean you know Baekhyun, right? I’ve been working here for over five years and I’ve never seen him act like that before. Other artists will have their significant others on set often too, but he just never seemed like that kind of guy, you know? With his big parties and everything.” 

“Oh, we aren’t actually dating or anything.” She stammered, blushing. 

Tiffany raised an eyebrow, “Are you serious?” 

“Well, yeah. We’ve just been hanging out and stuff, it’s not serious, just for fun.” 

“Look, I obviously don’t know any details, but like I said I’ve been working with him for years and I’ve never seen him look at someone like that before, that was more than ‘just for fun’ if you ask me.” 

She sighed, she wanted to believe her but she knew it was best to stay guarded with him. “It’s just confusing, sometimes I do think he really cares about me, but he said he doesn’t want a relationship.”   

The older girl offered her a warm smile, “Half the time men don’t know what the hell they want, but I think he likes you a lot. He’ll come around.” 

With that the shoot was finally over, and she gave her new friend a short hug before breaking off to look for him. She found him in his dressing room as expected, with one of the stylists wiping the makeup off of him. 

He smiled his familiarly dazzling smile at her, and asked, “You ready to go? Any idea where we wanna eat?” 

She just shrugged, silently laughing to herself at the way the girl seemed to tense up at his question, hastily wiping off the last bits of makeup before standing up to get her things and get the hell out of that room. 

The second they were alone Baekhyun closed the distance between them, an arm around the small of her back pressing her flush to him as his other hand guided her into a kiss. 

“So how’d you like your first day on set?” He asked once their lips parted again. 

“It was okay after you spoke up. And thank you by the way, that was really cool of you. And I’m really sorry he did.. that.” 

“Don’t worry about it. I’m starving, let's go.” And then he was pulling her through the door, and before she knew it she was back in his sleek black Audi, winding through the city streets. They ended up at a barbecue place, and were once again seated in their own room, out of sight from the rest of the guests. 

It was difficult for her to keep ignoring what Mr Kim had done earlier, but it was obvious Baekhyun didn’t want to talk about it, so she didn’t bring it up again.

She knew it was a bit silly, but even as they ordered their drinks she couldn’t get the stylists out of the back of her mind, laughing and smiling as they fawned over him and he welcomed it with her right there on set. 

“So those three girls,” She eventually asked. “Are you close with them at all?” 

“The stylists?” 

She nodded. 

“Not super close or anything, but it's usually them or a handful of other stylists who work for the company that are on set, and when you see people that much I guess you do kind of get to know them.” 

She wondered if she should really ask her next question, but the curiosity was killing her and she decided to just let it out. 

“Have you ever… slept with any of them?” 

Baekhyun knew he shouldn’t be grinning at that the way he did, but he couldn’t help but find it endearing that she would ask. 

“Does it matter?” 

“I don’t know, I’m just curious.” 

He smiled to himself a second longer before answering. 

“The blonde girl who did my hair, one time, after a party.”    

She had to admit, she didn’t actually think he would tell her something like that. She swallowed. 

“Just one time?” 

He nodded. “Over a year ago it must’ve been. I hardly remember it honestly.” 

The blonde girl. She’d been the one who looked so annoyed after Baekhyun’s little public display on set.

“She looked pretty pissed after seeing us, you know.” 

He shrugged. “She has no reason to be upset. It was a one night stand and it was forever ago, she should’ve known better than to expect any more.” 

She couldn’t help but let out an exasperated sigh at his words. If he thought sex and attraction were that simple, he had lot to learn. That or he was simply choosing to ignore the ways he might hurt people. 

“So then why do you keep me around?” 

He paused, considering it for a moment. “You’re good company.” 

She crossed her arms over her chest, throwing him a challenging look. “Really? That’s it?”

“What? Did you want to hear something else?”

“I don’t know, but it’s not really very specific.” 

“You want me to be more specific?” 

She gave him her best ‘yeah, duh’ look. 

A sly smirk tugged at his lips before he scooted his way to the other side of the booth, moving the hair from her shoulder and whispering lowly into her ear, 

“I I guess I just wanted more after fucking you the first time, seeing as you have the tightest, wettest, gorilla grip, make me cum twice in one night, super soaker pussy I’ve ever had the pleasure of burying myself in.” 

His crass words quickly had her face reddening but a giggle still erupted from her throat. Once the initial shock wore off she was swatting at his chest, reprimanding him for such profanity at the dinner table. 

“You’re awful.” She laughed. 

“You’ll still be in my bed later though.” 

The look on his face when he said it was clearly taunting her, but at the end of the day, they both knew ‪he was completely right. 

“Maybe, but that doesn’t explain why you’re wining and dining me first. My pussy doesn’t care if I’ve eaten.” 

“Like I said, you’re good company. I’m not that shallow you know.” 

“Hmm..” 

It still didn’t really make sense to her, but he seemed to keep avoiding her question so she just let it be.

“So you came to our current company after a few years at a different one, right?” She asked, “But don’t most contracts last for at least like 5 years? You were only there for 2 or 3 right?” 

She thought she saw his jaw go tense, and he nodded. 

“Well, what happened? Why did you leave?” 

“It’s a long story.”

“We have plenty of time, I don’t mind-”

“No. Just…not today.” 

His face had gone blank and she knew better than to push it, although she still couldn’t help but wonder. She knew what the industry was like, and how harsh it could be. But she didn’t want to argue, or pressure him to talk about something he wasn’t comfortable with, so she promptly changed the subject and he fortunately seemed to lighten back up after that. 

As the dinner went on they laughed about Mr Kim’s terribleness, happily grilling their meats and throwing back drinks until it was finally time for Baekhyun to once again take her home with him. The sun had set as they ate, and she found her eyes drifting shut on their way to his place, exhausted from the long day and early morning they’d had. When they finally reached his apartment, she made a b-line for his bedroom, all but throwing herself face first onto his bed, sighing with delight at the perfectly plush mattress and soft silk sheets; she could’ve fallen asleep right then if it weren’t for her host. She felt slender fingers tracing up her calf before he spoke. 

“You can’t be falling asleep already, it’s barely eight.” 

“But we’ve been up since like four am.” She whined in return. 

“And if you fall asleep now, you’ll be up that early again tomorrow.” 

She groaned, but he was right. She knew he wasn’t going to let her sleep that easily anyway, he still had other plans for the night, plans she knew she couldn’t deny him, nor did she want to. 

She felt him climb onto the bed after her, pushing the hair from her neck before leaving a wet kiss at the nape “You know you’ll be able to sleep better after I make you cum anyway.”

“Hmmm, I hope you’re ready to do all the work then.” She turned her face to look up at him, and he was grinning back at her.

“I don’t mind… just stay like this for me baby.” 

So she did, and his hands wandered beneath her blouse, pushing it up until he could pull it over her head before moving to her pants. She felt him slowly pull them down her legs, until they too were removed, leaving her in her bra and underwear. It wasn’t anything super fancy since she hadn’t planned to even see him that day, but at least they matched, and she silently patted her former self on the back for her choice. 

He moved back over her, kissing the back of her neck and shoulders, sending shivers down her spine. One hand snuck its way under the band of her bra, before deftly undoing the clasp and pulling the garment out from under her in one smooth motion. 

She felt him get up, stripping off his clothes as well before making his way back onto the bed, and she took the opportunity to turn around and finally look at him. He slowly pulled her last piece of clothing down her legs, and as soon as they were both bare he covered her body with his own, pressing more kisses into the skin of her neck and chest before eventually reaching her lips. 

His mouth was still on her own when she felt one slender hand dip between her legs, and she sighed into him at the divine touch. The more they’d slept together, the better he got to know her body, and the easier it was for him to have her shaking and gasping beneath him, just how he liked. 

He kept teasing her with his fingers, working her up as their lips stayed glued to one another aside from the gasps or moans he pulled from her so effortlessly. After some time though, he became impatient himself and she whined as he moved off of her, grabbing a condom from the nightstand. She eagerly helped him get it on, and he turned her back onto her stomach, once again moving the hair from her neck and attaching his lips to the now damp skin before pushing inside with a relieved groan. She whined at the sudden fullness, the angle hitting all the right places as he started to move at a leisurely pace inside her. 

They could both tell that this wouldn’t last long with how pent up they were and he wasted no time picking up the pace as she cried out into his silken pillows. They weren’t even doing anything particularly adventurous or dirty, but he just knew how to fuck her exactly the way she wanted, and he never got tired of the way she clung to him and moaned out his name. She just felt so perfect around him, and it wasn’t long until they were both getting close to their highs. 

Baekhyun made sure to keep up the movement of his hips, satisfied with how loud she was getting, and he knew she was close, just a few more thrusts and she would be twitching and shaking for him. Just as he expected, she was soon falling apart beneath him and the sound of his name on her lips and the squeezing of her pussy around him was enough to have him follow soon after, pushing into her a few more times as he reached his own peak. 

Once the rush had faded he all but collapsed on top of her, showering the back of her neck with more kisses before finally rolling off and getting up. He returned with a warm washcloth, cleaning her off as she already began to doze off, and when he finally got back into bed he pulled her in, arms wrapped firmly around her waist and her back met his chest as he inhaled the pleasant smell of her shampoo on her hair before falling into a blissful sleep. 

Baekhyun wasn’t usually one for ‘boring’ sex, but with her that wasn’t even an option it seemed. What would usually bore him with past one night stands, suddenly felt exciting again, if it was with her. She had lit a new fire inside of him, whether he liked it or not. 

Next Chapter

[quinn-styx]

Hiiii, so, I miss mumbo :( And I was wondering if I could request a mumbo fic? Maybe Grian and Reader team up to enter the mumbo vault and the reader's task is to distract him, so he/she comes up with something stupid while mumbo doesn't understand anything.

Thanks for your time anyways

Thank you so much for your request! I know Mumbo is already back so I changed up the prompt a bit, I hope you don’t mind too much! I don’t really like the way this turned out, but art is all about improving I suppose!

Mumbo x reader

The plan was simple. Get in, find wherever Mumbo happened to be, and distract him while Grian set up a small welcome back celebration outside. Easy enough, right?

You typed in the passcode, trying to remember what Mumbo had told you on the small piece of paper that he gave you in the case of “emergencies” that would unlock the entirety of the vault. Grian stood impatiently, counting the items in a bright red shulker box. He mumbled to himself “Two banners, three confetti canons,” he then rummages through the box next to it, a special order from Scar’s cookie empire. “One, two, wait- two cakes?” Grian looks to you, notably confused, “Y/N were we supposed to have two cakes?” You look to him, mindlessly pressing a button and getting the passcode wrong again. You mumbled slightly before responding, “Yes, I ordered the red one and Scar said the smaller one was free,”

You turn back, typing in the passcode once more. A bright green light flashes, you let out a small “there we go” before walking over to go in, going over the plan in your mind again and again starting to get slightly more nervous than before.

Slowly you turn the handle before pushing the door open, it was heavier than expected. As you walk in you notice a small working table, redstone glows lightly and you hear a click of a button followed by several pistons and an excited shout. You walk over and wait for a second

“Hey Mumbo!” You said while smiling, which was replied to by a terrified scream as he stumbled back, breathing sharply. “OH!” The look of shock on his face turned to relief once he realized who was in front of him, “Oh, Y/N!” He looks to his project and back to you “What’s brought you here?”

“I just wanted to come visit, you’ve been cooped up for so long and I’ve missed you,” You try to make your smile not look nervous, something you’re pretty sure you failed at. Grian said he only needed 5 minutes, but knowing him it would probably be more like 10 with how many tweaks and adjustments he’d make. You’re snapped out of you’re thoughts by Mumbo’s voice, “Really? You came all this way just to visit?” His voice was suspicious, he knew the pranks you and Grian would pull sometimes, especially ever since last season with Boatem.

“Yep! Just wanted to come see you!” You we’re now really getting nervous, and you weren't sure if it showed. “And you came alone?” He eyed you suspiciously, he could tell something was up and you knew that he was starting to figure it out “Completely alone,” you reply almost a little too quickly. Mumbo starts to move towards the vault door and you rush to the front of the vault as fast as possible “And if I go outside, nobody else will be there grieving my base?” His hand is on the handle now and you had to think fast. Unfortunately, you didn’t seem to think fast enough, and light flooded into the vault.

“Welcome back Mumbo!” Shouted several voices all around. You look around and everything is set up, all the banners and confetti canons, even the table with the two cakes was perfectly arranged. You both walk out, Mumbo looks around before looking back at you. “Was this your idea?” His voice was sweet like honey, and you smile back up at him. ”Grian and I, yeah,” you say wish a slight red tint on your face. “Thank you both, this is just lovely,” he says, absolutely beaming.

“So are we going to enjoy this or what? I worked hard on those cakes I’ll let you know!” Said Scar, you smile and both you and Mumbo go over, and finally you get to enjoy him being back.

[cherrylite17]

Between us episode 12

posting this earlier than i normally do so some minor spoilers ahead i suppose :)

honestly, I didn’t write much down as I wanted to actually watch this episode without pausing (another reason for me posting this today so i don’t forget my thoughts (of which i have few))

I am so happy that Team got to talk to his aunt. That conversation was much needed. I mean, last time they saw eachother, she didn't say much to him which really just lead him to believe that she still was mad with him. I can't believe they had me nearly crying like 5 minutes in because of it as well :3

all the couples got a happy ending! though i will admit there were things that didn't happen in this episode that i wish they did (like team telling his parents that they were together even though they already knew because listen i love me a good emotional coming out to parents scene so i can live vicariously through that and pretend their parents comforting them are my parents accepting me as well even though i'd never come out to my parents)

like literally, all the couples got a happy ending. i dont just mean with eachother but like, manow got a role, prince's manager was more accepting, waan and tul... waan and tul... waan and tul... :3 they are all happy.

not a note on the show or the episode but the OST. around the 42-ish minute mark, when they were on the beach, there was piano playing in the background. and my mind, like so quickly, was like "holy shit, this is luckiest boy. i know that song when i hear it i love this song i cant believe they're using it here omgomgomgomg" but still i was like ehhh maybe i just like the song so much that im projecting and its not actually luckiest boy and they just had piano and then... it was luckiest boy (actually sobbing i love that song)

final note: i initially didn't understand why Team was like "hey win im gonna challenge you to swimming".. i was like.,,,, really?? all this for that??? and then i realized holy shit this is fucking so emotional. Last time Team challenged someone he loved to swimming competition, that person died... like literally they died. this part (him challenging win) while at first kinda confusing, is i think among the most emotional parts of the show. like this is where all the growth leads. he finally forgave himself, he finally trusts himself and the person he loves. like he is idk it just hit a little different once i realized that it was meant to be symbolic of all this growth

but yeah... Between us is finally over. any final thoughts? no absolutely not. As much as i loved the show i do feel that the rewatch value is kinda low (though tbf i did just finish it so of course im not going to want to rewatch it)

not that anyone really cares but i dont think there will be a series for a while where i am posting my thoughts as i watch it (though i may occasionally comment on my school president or never let me go as i watch them and other shows i already watched if i decide to rewatch or completely non-bl related shows (i still havent watched the last episode of show me the money 11 and i already know im going to have too many thoughts on that )) but for now, thats been me and my thoughts >:) thanks to all who read them lol

[morsking]

is shirou a mary sue? the guy is universally well liked, cooks like a pro at 17, has the most op power from all fate (and arguably one of the most cool powers on media), nothing ever happens to him on the true/canon path of each route, he does many stupid things but no one cares 5 minutes later, other times like in salter vs rider he is just a tactical genius out of nowhere

he is not.

shirou is well-liked but he isn't particularly popular. he is known at school for being helpful and handy but otherwise not that many people are aching to get to know him or involve him in their lives. most people only know shirou very superficially. he is not sought after as a person, only as a handy man. there's a really neat scene at the beginning of hf1 where people are talking about shirou in the dojo and see that while he's earnest, hard-working, and talented, he's a bit odd and intense and that makes him a little difficult to approach casually. the only people who really like him are those who sit down and actually spend time with him. apart from the heroines of the story with whom he has time to develop a romantic bond, you don't see other girls falling head over heels for him. in fact, in hollow ataraxia the homurahara trio and mitsuzuri are quick to write him off as someone they are vehemently not interested in romantically whatsoever.

he only cooks like a pro because he had to teach himself to cook since he was 8. it's vital to understand that since kiritsugu became increasingly disabled and was utterly incapable of living as a normal human being, shirou was forced to grow up well before he was ready to take care of his adoptive father. he learned to cook, do the dishes, do the laundry, and clean the house because there were no other real adults in the house. shirou's domestic usefulness didn't come out of nowhere, it's a set of skills he took on out of necessity and came at the expense of his emotional growth.

shirou's power also isn't op. it's stated multiple times in the story how difficult it is for him to tap into it. he's not a natural mage with strong magical circuits, and neither does he have any real "useful" magical alignments that would make it easy for him to use conventional magecraft. every training session shirou has is a life-threatening act where he pushes his body and mind to the utmost limit for the low chance he might succeed at strengthening or projecting something. whenever he grabs hold of an ability that elevates his combat skills, it's either a) done with saber's help in the fate route, b) acquired as his soul inherits experience from his proximity to archer in ubw and receiving mana from rin, or c) obtained at the expense of the integrity of his mind and body as archer's arm starts to supplant his existence in heaven's feel. and even then, there's limits to what he can trace and project. he can't trace divine constructs normally as seen with ea, and his projections eat through his mana. think about what happens in heaven's feel too. every time he projects something with archer's arm he leaps closer to death because he can't handle the strain.

to say nothing ever happens to him in canon is also disingenuous. he doesn't die in a permanent sense, but take a moment to consider the amount of mental and physical pain he suffers that forces him to confront something about himself and change. did "nothing" happen when he faced gilgamesh and heracles with saber? is growing closer to her to find the best way to help her assert her personhood "nothing"? did "nothing" happen when he fought archer? is realizing the truth of your ideals and grasping the resolve to realize them anyway in a healthier and more self-aware manner "nothing"? did "nothing" happen when he fought heracles, saber alter, and kotomine? is saving your loved ones and claiming your life as your own after years of not seeing yourself as a human being to protect those dear to you so they too learn to love and accept themselves "nothing"?

take a moment to consider in what ways shirou is stupid that aren't contradicted by him being smart in others. shirou is socially inept and utterly incapable of asking for help because he is a traumatized teenager who doesn't know what a normal life is. he has few friends. he survived a fire. he is constantly trying to make up for being unable to rescue anyone in the calamity that destroyed his childhood. he constantly jumps in front of danger to save others for that very reason and refuses help because he doesn't want others to get hurt because of him until he learns to overcome that fear of being destroyed and seeing others be destroyed. he is dumb at being a person because he's never let himself be one. he is smart in a fight because he's at least been able to process his stress and trauma in a way that helps him rationalize his way out of a crisis.

i feel the need to stress that a protagonist having special qualities fit for the narrative isn't them being a mary sue. it's them simply being a main character with agency, a main character that is engaging and interesting. how boring do you think shirou and the story would be if he was really a shit-ass mcnobody with no talents, personality, qualities, or meaningful connections to the setting? he'd be no different from every other harem protag the cishet male audience can use as a self-insert. he is supposed to subvert ideas of masculinity by being domestic. he challenges conventional ideas of heroism by showing how his ideals are flawed and how important it is that he self-actualize.

shirou faces consequences for his inaction and inexperience multiple times too. saber gets frustrated because he won't (tell her why he really won't) fight and that causes a rift in their relationship he must fix with honesty and mutual understanding. shirou's inability to protect himself from hypnotic suggestion gets him kidnapped by caster and forces archer to rescue him, and in turn their shared stubbornness elevates their conflict to deadly levels until they're forced to fight to work out their differences. heaven's feel shows you how his unwillingness to forsake who he is to properly scold sakura and save her makes the situation worse when sakura loses faith that shirou will keep his promise to her until he decides he will fulfill it for both their sakes. people do care! saber cares when her master doesn't see eye to eye with her! rin cares that shirou is too willing to throw away his own life for others! archer cares that he is at risk of becoming that which archer can't forgive himself for being! sakura cares because seeing the man she loves come home bruised and bloodied every night is wrong! illya cares because he is her only true family! rider cares because if shirou can't be sakura's ally then she's as good as dead! everyone cares because shirou has to learn to care too, and he does!

i'm going to ask you to try to engage with media without trying to uncover flaws under rigid standards like this because all it does is keep you from properly understanding what is being shown to you. you cannot hope to judge a story and its characters for all their flaws or merits if this is how you approach things.

[kalpasio]

The Several Attempts To Make You Aware

Attempt 6

A 5 + 1 Kalpas x Reader request, chapter 6, the final chapter below!

Staying mad at Kalpas didn’t work very well. Within the day, Emile was coaxing you down from your anger, and venting to Sakura while blasting mechs helped immensely.

“Really, we all saw it coming,” she spoke while standing out of your way, “As soon as he got on that plane, it was his mission.”

“Well yeah, but what am I supposed to do?” You had calmed down considerably, but the irritation still lingered. “If I go without him, he throws a fit, if I go with him, he wrecks the whole job!”

“He’ll find something else to complain about even if you do take him. I think leaving him here would be for the best.” Sakura tried to reason with you, but it just led to you grumbling to yourself. It’s easy for her to say you should leave him; she’s not the one who has to deal with him when you get back.

The rest of the week went by as though nothing had happened while you tried to figure out what to do. Kalpas still spent as much time—probably more—with you as he did with Sakura or Emile. When Tuesday came around, you had come to the decision that Kalpas couldn’t join you on missions, but you’d spar with him more as a compromise. Since he and Emile would be meeting you in the café later that day, you decided to tell him then.

Before that, though, you had to have a ‘chat’ with one of your recruits and planned to meet at the same coffee shop just out of convenience. Considering the fact that you managed to get through the whole conversation without the guy blowing a fuse or crying, things went surprisingly well. So well, in fact, that you now had a couple of minutes to yourself before Emile and Kalpas would arrive.

Now was the perfect time for you to get another drink while you waited, so you headed over to the counter. The barista who took your order looked like she was about to fall asleep at the register, but her co-worker was the complete opposite.

Brian—he’d told you while excitedly pointing at his nametag which had so many stickers on it you could hardly read it—spent more time chatting than he did actually making your drink. When he finally handed it over with a wink, he continued speaking so you couldn’t go back to your seat without rudely ending the conversation.

You continued to stand by the counter nodding and humming when appropriate until you were about halfway through your cup. At this point, you truly had no clue what the guy was going on about, and you really hoped Kalpas would show up and do that thing where he scares everyone into being quiet. When you noticed Brian staring at you expectantly with his hand out, you realized he must’ve asked you a question.

“Sorry,” you gave an uncomfortably polite smile. “Just staring off into space. What were you saying?” Brian flashed you his never-fading grin and repeated himself.

“Can I refill your cup? On the house! I really appreciate you staying here and talking with me!”

“Oh, um, sure?” you handed over the paper cup. “I really don’t mind.” You did, Brian had been talking your ear off for what felt like years, but you couldn’t ring yourself to be rude. People on base regularly treated the staff here like dirt, and you didn’t want to be the beginning of someone’s bad day.

“I really look up to you MOTHs, you know?” The barista busied himself while he spoke, and you noticed the beginnings of a blush on his cheeks. Seeing him all shy almost made him look cute, and you smiled at that as well as the compliment. “That’s part of the reason I wanted to work here! But um, you. You’re especially—ahhh…hmm.” Brian set your finished drink on the counter and frowned at it while he looked for the words.

You knew exactly where this was going, and just wanted to grab your cup before things got awkward. Maybe if you moved slowly, you could sneak it out from under his gaze. Once you had it in your hands, you should probably text Emile to meet somewhere else to avoid the awkwardness of staying there.

Suddenly, Brian’s face rose to meet yours, and you stopped reaching for the drink, almost paralyzed. Oh no. Don’t do it, you mentally begged. His eyes were so bright, and he was so eager, you already felt bad even though there was nothing you could do.

“Would you want to go on a date with me some time?”

Unintentionally, you tensed, and your face drew into a wince as you heard the words. Before you could try and let him down, an arm came around your shoulder and pulled you towards someone so roughly, you lost your balance and had to lean against them completely. Kalpas didn’t seem to notice, holding you in place, the warmth from his chest allowing you to identify your ‘attacker’ despite being unable to see him. What you also couldn’t see with your face half plastered to him, was the death glare Brian was receiving right now. Great, now instead of being sad he was scared out of his wits.

“Get lost.”

Brian didn’t even blink, continuing to stare wide-eyed straight ahead as though petrified. It was Kalpas who ended up leaving, with you in tow, seeing as how his firm grip still had you stumbling and unable to stand properly. Once you were out of the coffee shop, he eased up, and you pulled away and attempted to look slightly less rumpled. Emile was nowhere in sight, probably inside apologizing, or he’d be here soon.

“Thanks,” you sighed while Kalpas stood glaring at the shop as though it would catch fire form his gaze alone. “That was quick thinking; pretending we’re a couple,” you gave a smile that lasted only for a split second before that burning gaze was directed towards you. The heat behind it was still just as furious on you as it had been on the shop, and Kalpas’ voice was just as angry.

“What?”

You blinked, confused at his question, but the second you opened your mouth, he spoke again. “What do you mean ‘pretend.’”

“We’re not—”

“Like hell we’re not dating. I’ve been trying to ask you out for—” he cut himself off and held his hand up, counting the fingers one by one. Covering your mouth, you tried desperately to stifle your laughter. This was a very serious conversation after all. “Four months! How have you not noticed?! Flirting with some ba—”

“Why didn’t you just say something?” you through back to all the time you’ve spent with Kalpas, but you truly couldn’t find any evidence he liked you as more than a sparring partner.

“You…” his voice was low and dripped with rage, only trailing off when he couldn’t find the words to tell you just how pissed he was.

“Remember every time I stabbed him at dinner?” Emile came out of the coffee shop, drink in hand. His cup had a little heart on it along with a phone number, but you weren’t going to question it. “I was trying to avoid this from happening.” He gestured between you and Kalpas.

“Now that the cats out of the bag, do you think we could skip all the arguing and go straight to you two getting along? Brian and I want to go on a date next week, and if you two come with, I won’t have to worry about someone setting the base on fire.” Emile sent Kalpas a side eye that was not helping the situation. “Plus, it’ll be a cute double date,” he sent you a grin, and you knew what Emile really meant. He just wanted to watch you and Kalpas flounder on your first date. Unfortunately for him, you were just as cruel and fully intended to make him miserable for trying to make you look like a fool.

“Sure!” you gave an uncharacteristically sweet smile, “sounds great!” Kalpas didn’t know what you both were planning, but he knew you well enough to not want any part of it.

“Stop that,” he growled, and you and Emile both looked over to him. “Go on your own damn date or your boyfriend will be nothing more than a pile of ash.” Emile waved off the threat even though both of you could feel the temperature around you rising.

“Yeah, yeah, I get it. I’m just sick of watching you two be idiots.”

“It’s your fault!” Kalpas fumed and took a threatening step forward, only stopping because you grabbed his hand on the way.

“This has all been wonderfully entertaining, but I never got my coffee, so can we go back in now?” You smiled at both men, and almost shivered with how suddenly the temperature dropped now that Kalpas wasn’t about to strangle someone. He scoffed as though he didn’t want to go head inside but held your hand tighter and was the first to start walking.

“That bartender better have it still,” he grumbled.

“He’s a barista and my boyfriend!” Emile was practically pouting next to you, making you laugh. Kalpas squeezed your hand silently, refusing to look at you. He’d never say it out loud, but if he got to hold your hand and hear your laugh like this, even if it was just once…

Those four months of waiting and five failed attempts at confessing were all worth it.

I am legally obligated to include "get lost" in every story at least once. Also I'm thinking specifically about that conversation Kalpas has with Mei where she asks how many Herrscher's he's killed and this man starts counting on his toes. I love dumb fiery man. Thank you SO MUCH for reading! I hope you enjoyed the story, and the editing wasn't too horrendous. <3

[oenimo]

Gen Ascendancy sounded so fun, and I wanted to do something for it, but writing was really hard this week so this is pretty much all I've got. I have other ideas floating around, we'll see what happens.

First off, Bomarmo and Che'ri for birdwatching (kinda). (also "Cohbo'mar'molade" isn't mine, that idea is courtesy @/dinjoyer, I just moved the apostrophe)

Che’ri sat down under the tree with a thud. She didn’t want to explain everything to these people, she didn’t want to keep track of her sleep and her food and her nightmares and her everything. She wanted to be back on the Springhawk, she wanted to be back with the crew and back with Thrawn and back flying again.

She winced. But that had gotten them in trouble, so…

She looked out over the field. Same old field, same old packbulls, same same same. She let her head thunk back against the bark instead, and closed her eyes. Maybe she could at least get a nap in before Thalias or Borika came looking for her.

Less than five minutes later, she heard footsteps, and resisted the urge to groan. Not even five minutes? Really?

“I don’t think you’re supposed to be out here alone,” a voice said. Che’ri startled. That was a man’s voice, not Borika or Thalias. She shot to attention, blinking quickly to try and adjust her eyes to see in the bright sunlight.

A sturdy man was standing a few meters away, giving her an amused look. She sighed in relief. She’d seen Borika talking to him sometimes–at least he wasn’t a complete stranger. She’d be in so much trouble if she got seen by a stranger.

But she still didn’t know who he was.

“Who are you?”

He took a couple steps closer as he answered. “Cohbo’mar’molade. Bomarmo. It’s nice to meet you.”

She watched him suspiciously as he continued to approach, stopping just a few feet away. Cohbo. Borika was a Cohbo…

“I’ve seen you talking to Borika sometimes.”

He smiled. “I should hope so, she’s my wife.”

Che’ri blinked. W– Wife? Borika was married?

“…oh.”

He laughed. “That’s alright. She doesn’t exactly share much. I’m the farmer here, that’s where your cover story comes from. Borika helps occasionally, but I’m the one maintaining the farm.”

Ohhh. She… really should’ve figured that someone had to be keeping the packbulls and all the other farm things that made them not look suspicious. Thrawn would’ve noticed.

“Hey now, don’t worry about it. You’ve got much more important things to worry about.” He pulled a face. “And speaking of, what’s got you so wound? You seemed upset.”

Her eyes narrowed. She barely even knew him, he was just some guy–well, he was Borika’s husband… and he clearly knew about the project here if he was the cover story…

“I don’t want to be here.”

He gave her a sad smile, and she scowled.

“Don’t pity me! I’m not a child, I don’t need your–”

“Hey now, calm down. I’m not pitying you, I’m sympathizing. I’ve seen so many of you girls come here, and I know how hard it can be. Not to mention, I’d like to think I know Bo pretty well, and she went through the same things you did.”

Che’ri words died in her mouth at his interruption. She sighed.

He’s not the one I’m mad at…

“Alright, what do you like to do? Obviously I can’t take you off the property, but–”

Che’ri’s eyes widened. “Wait, you aren’t going to go get Borika or Thalias to bring me back??”

He chuckled quietly. “No. You deserve some time off, everyone does. Say, the Grand Migration is supposed to pass over soon–not all of it, Ool’s not on too many of the paths, but there should be a whole lot of guese flying overhead soon. What about you and me go up to the hill, and climb the tree there to watch?”

She stared at him. He… She’d met him not 5 minutes ago, hadn’t even introduced herself, was breaking the rules, and he wanted… to take her birdwatching?

Also, birdwatching?

She made a face, and he laughed. “I know, it’s not the most exciting activity. But these aren’t normal guese, they’re rare. All sorts of fun colours, and there’s sure to be a lot of them. We’ve lived here for years now, and I’ve always loved watching them fly overhead like some kind of rippling river of an abstract painting.”

Painting.

“………okay.”

He grinned, and she couldn’t help but think how she’d barely ever seen a grin like that before. Especially not on an adult, or an adult man. Samakro certainly didn’t grin, and Thrawn barely even smiled. Samakro also didn’t smile much, but that was usually ‘cause he was grumpy.

He offered her a hand up, and tentatively, she took it.

As they started to walk off toward the hill, she fiddled with the edge of her sleeve. “I…” He glanced at her. “I’m Che’ri.”

He smiled again.

“Nice to meet you, Che’ri.”

[let-them-read-fics]

Empress of the Heart (Pt. 1)

Requested By Anon: "Reader is an actress, and she meets Jennie at an event. They have a one night stand afterward, and months later they meet again." (It was a long request so I had to sum it up lol)

Pairing: Jennie x Fem!Actress!Reader

Word Count: ~ 9,351 😳 (Both parts combined)

Warnings / Misc. -- Smut / Suggestive Themes, Angst, Fluff

Disclaimer: This writing is a work of fiction, and no disrespect is meant for those mentioned herein.

A/N: Hello again! Guys, I'm actually really proud of this one. It gets better as it goes on. I hope you enjoy it (you'd better, because I stayed up until 8am writing again 🥴😂). I had to split this story into two parts to appease the Tumblr overlords, just so we’re clear.

♡ Happy reading ♡

Part 2

🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

"Who's that?" Rosé asks, leaning in closer to the maknae as she points to a slightly recognizable face in the crowd. 

"I dunno," Lisa shrugs, throwing a thumb over her shoulder, "ask Jisoo." The Australian does as she says, padding over to seek out an answer from their unnie. 

"Y/N L/N, I believe. Her company is supposed to make a big announcement later." Jisoo informs, adding a nod to the end of her statement for certainty. Jennie stands beside them all, taking in the crowd of staff and business people hailing from all of the most powerful entertainment companies in Korea. The big dogs have all gathered here tonight to drop some major announcements for their upcoming projects and set up arrangements for future endeavors. 

"What do you think it'll be?" Jennie asks, eyes still trained on you as you converse with a famous actress. Her breath catches in her throat when you throw your head back, eyes filling with tears of laughter at something the high class woman said. You're absolutely stunning. 

"It could be anything, honestly. Her company's full of talent in every category." 

"Yeah, their newest girl group broke a record for Youtube streams in the first hour after release. Still didn't beat ours, though," Lisa adds with a smug look, holding her head a little higher. She's only playing, of course -- she's one of the most humble people Jennie knows. 

"She's really pretty," Jennie breathes out, speaking the words that have been rolling around in her mind since she laid eyes on you. The other girls adamantly agree, nodding their heads with purpose. 

"Do you wanna go talk to her? YG would probably like that; maybe we can let Jisoo do a little schmoozing." Rosé smirks, playfully nudging the unnie. Jisoo rolls her eyes with an amused scoff, quickly swatting the blonde's hand away. 

"I don't know, she seems pretty busy." Her words are unsure, weary -- her normal confidence is wavering a bit, now replaced with some type of nervousness that she can't quite explain. This isn't like her; why is she so anxious?

"Come on, it'll be fun." Lisa decides for them, leading the way with Jennie's hand clutched in her own; the brunette would surely slip away otherwise. 

They approach you from an angle, caught right in your blind spot as you continue your small talk with a new business exec. The man sees the girls behind you, waiting for their turn, and after a few more moments he leaves you with an office number to reach him by.

"Good evening… Y/N, right?" Jisoo leads politely, smiling as you turn to face them. You look even more dazzling up close, and Jennie's posture stiffens. She's definitely seen you somewhere before.

"That's me," you say sweetly, greeting all of them and committing their names to memory. 

"Jennie," she introduces, stretching a hand out to you. Your eyes flutter down to it before you grasp it within your own, the simple action appearing unbelievably cute to her.

"How're you doing tonight? I hear you've got some big news for us." Lisa wiggles her eyebrows, voice bouncy with anticipation.

You giggle, and Jennie thinks it may just be the sweetest thing she's ever heard. "It's a little hectic, if I'm honest, but I'm enjoying myself. What about you guys? And you'll just have to wait and see what we have in store for you." You end the sentence with a wink that just happened to be directed at Jennie, despite Lisa being the one to ask the question. She tries to fight the blush that soon rises to her cheeks. 

"We're doing well, I'd say. It's actually kind of nice to get out of the dorm and meet some new people." Rosé says almost wistfully, her eyes sending a fleeting glance around the room at her statement. 

"I know how that can feel. When I was first starting out I didn't get many opportunities for roles. But then I met my manager at the café I picked up a second job at, and the rest is history." You smile softly at the memory, recalling the events of that fateful day. You can't imagine where you'd be right now if things had played out differently. 

"You're an actress?" Jisoo asks, sounding like she just put two-and-two together. You nod at her, noticing the way that Jennie looks at you in deep thought. You can practically see the wheels turning. 

"So that's where I recognize you from. You guest starred in that JTBC miniseries earlier this year, didn't you?" 

"Ding ding ding, we have a winner." You smile, bowing your head in praise. It warms your heart to see her face light up, knowing that she finally felt that rush of putting her finger on the elusive thoughts in her head. Pulling knowledge you previously believed forgotten from the foggy depths of your brain is a rewarding experience in itself, and you're pleased that she remembered you. 

"I'm glad I made an impression during my short time on screen," you quirk, leaning in closer to her. 

"With skills like yours? You're unmatched, Y/N." She flirts, finally finding her bearings again. Her confidence is returning now, slowly but surely, and she pats herself on the back for not hiding behind her hands when you send her a tempting smile. 

"Ah, you're too kind--" you begin, only to be cut off by a tap on your shoulder. It's one of your co-stars.

"Good evening, ladies," he bows, "I'm sorry to break this up, but Y/N is needed by management." 

Your shoulders sag at this, his words sinking in. You'd much rather spend the night tucked away with the girls, getting to know them better -- especially Jennie, who makes your heart speed up anytime she looks at you. 

"I hate to go," they nod in agreement, sad to have to part ways. They really enjoyed speaking with you, and they'd be lying if they said they wanted to stop anytime soon. 

"But maybe I'll catch you later?" The question sounds hopeful, albeit a bit unsure as you scrunch your face up. They affirm that they'd "like that very much," and your shoulders relax a bit. Maybe there's still some hope for you all. 

◇◇◇◇◇  2 Hours Later  ◇◇◇◇◇

"Exactly! She shouldn't have forgiven him after that," you rant to Jisoo, talking about some characters from your favorite kdrama. 

"Babo, I tell you." She says dramatically, rolling her eyes. The action garners a chuckle from you, and Jennie finds herself smiling as she follows along with the conversation. She must've made her staring too obvious, because a minute later your eyes meet hers from across the table. She blinks, surprise etched gracefully into her features, and she clears her throat. Both of you have been stealing glances at one another all night, and things have only ramped up since you snuck away from management to see them again. You assured them you wouldn't get in trouble, but that was honestly the last thing on your mind. 

From her seat across from you, Jennie can see the curve of your body, your silhouette highlighted by the lights that shine on the wall behind you. They're dimmed somewhat to give a comfortable, soft glow to the room, and they contrast with the perfect curve of your face. She lets her eyes trail lower, admiring the expanse of your chest and how your fingers rest against the table, mindlessly playing with the expensive tablecloth. 

What you do next makes her choke on the water she had so bravely dared to take a drink of. 

You lean forward slightly, just enough for her to see your cleavage, while still appearing inconspicuous and innocent. The smirk you try to suppress tells her you know exactly what you're doing, and her cheeks grow hot. 

"Excuse me," she mutters to the table, quickly standing and all but running outside for some fresh air. She wants -- needs -- to put some distance between the two of you if she plans to have any self control. 

Cool air immediately greets her as she steps outside, hearing the sleek automatic door slide shut behind her. She can breathe now, and begin to soothe her racing mind. Despite only knowing you for the better part of 4 hours, she's already attracted to you. Way more than she cares to admit, as she presses her thighs together to put out the fire you started within her. 

No more than 5 minutes later, the doors slide open once more. 

"Everything alright?" You ask, tone dripping with amusement as you take in her flustered state. It's obvious that she's okay, just simply turned on. 

"Never better," she mumbles, glancing up at you with a lopsided smile. 

"You know, you ran out pretty fast back there. You sure know how to worry a girl." You fake a pout at her. 

"Oh, you don't say?" She plays along, approaching you with what few shreds of confidence she has left. She tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, whispering into it, "Well, I'm all good." 

"Wanna see for yourself?" She continues, drawing back slightly to take your hands within her own and wrap them around her waist. She smiles as they roam over her body, making sure to be thorough as you "check her out." 

She groans when your hand grazes over a sweet spot on her thigh, causing you to pause and tut at her, "Tsk tsk, Jennie. It looks like I'll have to inspect this a little further." She gulps at your words, mind clouded once again by filthy thoughts of you. 

"Let's get out of here," she suggests, taking your hand to lead you away. You chuckle at her eagerness, only capable of nodding as she basically drags you to her car. 

◇◇◇◇◇

Despite feeling like two horny teenagers, you and Jennie actually opted to slow things down and get to know each other more. She's one of the most interesting people you've ever met, and you could listen to her talk for hours on end. The feeling is beyond mutual, and she doesn't mind that she has to wait a little longer to have you. The promise of what the night will hold for the two of you thrills her, and the anticipation only heightens her feelings.

Takeout containers lay abandoned in her car, long forgotten about as you sit next to each other on the hood. The chilly surface of the windshield presses against your back, making you all the more thankful for having had the foresight to wear a coat tonight. You make a mental note to thank your stylist for the suggestion. 

Stars are beginning to twinkle in the distance, slowly coming out of their peaceful slumber to greet the evening sky. They bring to mind all the nights you spent in your backyard as a child, laid out on a warm blanket as you gazed up into space. Back when only trivial issues existed in your world, leaving you with an unscarred heart and unadulterated outlook on life. Those times were simple, only complicated by whatever drama was going on at school or what new person your friends liked. Back then you had no idea of what the future held for you -- what you'd end up doing with your life. If you had a chance to talk to your younger self, you'd tell her to enjoy those days as much as possible; to not take them for granted for even a second. 

Everyday you're reminded that fame is truly a blessing and a curse -- you miss the days that you could roam the streets freely with whomever you wanted to, not having to worry about paparazzi or the media, but you're thankful for where you are now. You get to do what you love, everyday, and make money from it -- it's what everyone wishes for in life; and although you've worked your ass off to get here, you owe a lot of credit to the fans. 

"It's so beautiful up here," Jennie says, voice stuck between a whisper and sigh as she lays her head on your shoulder. 

"You see that building over there, with the orange lights and trees around it?" You ask, pointing in the direction of the building. Her eyes follow the invisible path your finger makes, and she spots it, nodding for you to continue. 

"My mom used to work there; it's a daycare. I always loved helping out. The kids were so adorable." A bittersweet smile plays on your lips as you look down at your lap, clearly reminiscing. Jennie notices, brushing a strand of hair out of your face as she says, "I bet you miss it." 

"I do," you sigh, clenching your jaw briefly, "those were the days. Seoul's home, but sometimes it feels so distant."

"I know how that feels." You don't miss the way her eyes cast down, a hint of sadness behind them, her fingers toying with yours on her thigh. Life in the spotlight isn't all it's cracked up to be, and neither of you are strangers to that all too familiar pang of longing. 

"I'm happy to be here with you tonight, though," you try to turn the conversation cheery again, and Jennie's thankful for that. "I haven't had this much fun in a long time." 

Your plan works, and soon she's pepping up. "Me neither. Being with you feels...different. In a good way." Your smile widens exponentially when she adds, "A very good way." 

"Don't get too cheesy on me, now," you roll your eyes teasingly, wrapping both of your arms around her and pulling her flush up against your body. She lays her head on your chest, reveling in the scent of your perfume and the warmth radiating from you. Her hand comes to rest against your ribs, lightly rubbing patterns against them as the two of you continue star gazing. She can feel your heartbeat pick up when she slides her hand downwards, playing with the hem of your shirt innocently. 

Does she have any idea what she's doing to you?

Yes, yes she does. After all, your body is basically selling you out at this point. 

"Y/N?" 

"Mmm?" You hum, eyes closed and head leaned back against the windshield. Her skin is soft against yours, and your shared warmth has put you at ease.

"Do you wanna go somewhere? I really don't want the night to be over yet." Your heart flutters at her words; the fact that a woman such as Jennie is so reluctant to leave you is baffling in itself. 

"I'd love that, Jennie. What did you have in mind?" 

For a moment, Jennie's mind takes it there. She allows herself to imagine what it would be like to feel your skin against hers, connection unrestricted by clothing; how your kisses would feel against her lips, her body; what beautiful sounds you would make as she pushed you closer and closer to the edge. She can't deny how attracted she is to you, nor does she want to; but she also doesn't want to ruin the innocent moments you're sharing. She doesn't want to taint them with the lustful ideas that flood her mind anytime you give her that look, or caress her thigh absentmindedly. 

"How does the park sound?" 

"With you? There's nowhere I'd rather be." 

Despite her efforts, Jennie blushes at your statement, feeling that embarrassing warmth creep up the back of her neck. You've made her blush more in the span of one night than she previously had in her entire life, and that boosts your confidence tenfold.

"Who's being cheesy now, huh?" She asks, pinching your side playfully as she sits up. Her legs swing around until she's fully facing you, sitting criss-cross as the two of you smile at one another. 

Neither of you move for a while, both content with just admiring each other's beauty. Her fingers lace with yours, and after a moment she brings your hand up to her lips to lay a kiss to it. The action -- more so, how soft her lips are against your skin -- catches you off guard, and your breathing hitches. All at once, you're acutely aware of how badly you want to kiss her. 

As if things couldn't get anymore tempting, her tongue darts out of her mouth to soothe her lips, making them glisten in the dying light of the evening. 

She sees your eyes dart down to them, and her body leans closer to you ever so slightly, seemingly having a mind of its own. You meet her gaze again, silently asking for permission as you glance back down at her lips. She responds by giving one single nod before leaning in close enough that your noses almost brush against each other. 

"You're stunning." The compliment sounds breathy as it slips out of your mouth, but you're beyond caring at this point. Your pride was thrown out the window the second Jennie showed interest in you. 

"Don't look at me like that," she says, gently biting the inside of her cheek to keep herself from closing the distance. She wants you to be the one to do it.

"Like what?" 

"Like you're undressing me with your eyes." Her gaze casts down to your lips again, seemingly glued there as she watches them move when you speak your reply.

"You act like you weren't doing the same thing at the event." Her confidence falters momentarily, but she fights to hold her ground. "My colleagues even noticed it, babe -- you've gotta get better at hiding your attraction." You say with a chuckle, watching as Jennie's eyes grow wider. Had she really made it so obvious?

"We wouldn't be here right now if I was good at hiding it, so I think you owe me one." 

"Touché," you say, quirking an eyebrow in thought. She's right, as usual. "How can I ever make it up to you?" Your voice wiggles dramatically, face contorting in a mock apology. 

"I know a way," she says lowly, smiling as your hand finds its way to her knee a moment later. You hook your fingers in the crook of it, drawing a surprised gasp from her as she falls forward and into your arms. 

Here goes nothing. 

You raise your left hand to her cheek, brushing the back of your fingers against it gently as you build up the nerve to kiss her. Your other arm is wrapped securely around her waist in order to hold her steady above you. 

Her palms are pressed to the glass behind you, and her hair falls gracefully around you, creating a little curtain to shield you from the outside world. Finally gaining enough courage, you press your lips to hers in a soft kiss. It's slow and mild as you set a sensual rhythm, growing accustomed to the taste of each other. She sighs into your mouth as you reposition her so that she's straddling your lap. 

"Y/N, we're never gonna make it to the park if you keep kissing me like that." She warns, though her words hold no real threat at all. She wants this just as much as you do. 

You lay a trail of light kisses up her neck, all of them far too gentle for her liking right now. "Is this better, your highness?" You ask smugly, smiling against her throat as a frustrated sigh leaves her lips.

She places a hand on your chest to push you up against the glass, letting her fingers skim over your collarbone. Just as she's about to pounce, the sound of your phone ringing interrupts the moment. It vibrates in your pocket, right between Jennie's thighs, and you stifle a giggle at the reaction it would've drawn from her had you not quickly retrieved it. 

"Hello?" You ask, realizing you hadn't even bothered to check the caller ID. Jennie sits back on your legs, allowing her hands to rest on your hips and draw soothing circles.

"Y/N, I hate to tell you this on such short notice, but you have a new interview scheduled for tomorrow morning at 10AM. I'll send you all the details later." 

You sigh at your manager's words, running a hand over your face to relax yourself. The announcement party was supposed to signal the end of your busy week, but of course life just couldn't work in your favor for once. Now you'd be stuck in some random line of questioning, unable to give them any real answers for the sake of keeping spoilers from getting out. You can think of about a million things you'd rather be doing tomorrow morning, and one of them is sitting on your lap right now. 

"Yeah, okay. I'll talk to you later." You wait for him to say his goodbye before ending the call and turning back to Jennie with an apologetic look. 

"Sorry for ruining the moment." 

"You didn't ruin anything. But luckily for you…" she leans forward again, pressing a kiss to your lips that makes your heart stop for a second, "I can be very merciful." You nearly melt at her words, paired with how she whispers them in your ear. Her warm breath fans over your neck, rendering you speechless as you pull her back to your lips. 

This kiss is different -- full of passion and desire as you grow more used to each other. She raises up on her knees, towering over you as she stares down at you. You look so beautiful right now, your eyes appearing big as you look up into hers, waiting for her next move. She runs her hands through your hair before settling them on your cheeks, cupping the smooth skin and rubbing the pad of her thumb across it. You drag your nails up and down her exposed thighs, and you pat yourself on the back when you notice the trail of goosebumps they leave behind. 

"I actually do wanna go to the park with you, if that's alright. There's something I want to show you. I definitely want to continue this later, though." You say.

She nods at that, a smile making its way to her face that can't possibly be wiped away. As much as she wants to have you writhing underneath her, screaming her name, she can wait. She's content with making as many memories as possible with you tonight, and she's intrigued by the surprise you're hinting at.

A few gentle kisses later, you slide off the hood and help her down before going to open her car door for her. 

"Such a gentlewoman," she praises, pursing her lips at you. 

"Only for you," you wink, making her giggle. 

You quickly make your way to the driver's seat, set on getting to the park ASAP in order to spend as much time as you can with Jennie. After all, you can only stay up so late tonight if you want to be functioning for that interview tomorrow… and let's just say that you plan on being busy later. 

---------

"Voila!" You declare, motioning to some playground equipment in the kid's section of the sizable park. Of all the things she was guessing at, Jennie did not see this coming. 

"What, you came to show me monkey bars, Y/N? I've seen plenty of them--" She asks incredulously, looking around the area filled with miniature tables and chairs to go along with the equipment. 

"What? No, no. I used to play here when I was growing up, and my friend's and I had a secret hiding spot. We always stashed our favorite little knick knacks in it, and we promised we'd only show it to people we deemed worthy."

Jennie watches as your eyes light up at the recounting of such a dear memory, and she grins widely. You truly are a five year old at heart. 

"This is the first time I've been back here, since…" you trail off, realizing just how many years it's been. Being at such a different point in your life while standing in a place you frequented as a child is a weird juxtaposition that you weren't prepared for, but you push it from your mind.

"Anyway, I think you're pretty worthy." You joke, sizing her up. She laughs at that, and you revel in the pleasant sound. You know you probably won't see her again after tonight, so you're determined to ingrain the little things -- like her smile, her laugh -- into your brain. 

"Now, let's see… where did Ashley put it?" You whisper to yourself, scanning the length of the playground. Your eyes travel across the slides, over the swings, and around the monkey bars before you spot that little dip in the siding that you'd recognize anywhere. Jennie soon finds her hand slipping into yours as you lead her over to it, a childlike sense of giddiness on your face. She likes seeing you like this. 

"I hope it's still here," you say to no one, bending down to press your fingers against the old wood. It's far more worn down now, and you're worried that someone has already come by and cleaned out the hiding spot. Putting your doubts aside, you continue. 

"Okay, so don't laugh, but there's a special way you have to open it. Ashley showed it to me one day and it's the only way we could get it to budge after that."

She smiles her gummy smile at you, and you can't help but return the gesture and even steal a quick kiss. She's a bit taken aback when you ball your hand up, using the side of it to deliver a couple blows to the wood in two different spots. Next, you stand and line up your foot, remember exactly how your friend taught you, before executing a calculated kick to the other side. 

At first, Jennie wants to laugh at you; but upon closer inspection, she sees that in fact, a small opening is visible in the wood now. You smirk cockily, knowing full well that she hadn't expected that to work. 

"Told you so," you tease, now bending down again to work the panel free. You wiggle it back and forth repeatedly, being careful not to go too quickly and damage anything else, and eventually it pops out. She watches as you reach in and pull out a mini jewelry box -- the kind that can fit in your hand, mainly meant for rings or other small items. 

"We stole the box from our other friend, Janelle. Had to pay her our allowances for 2 months afterward. Can you believe that?" You ask, shaking your head with another smirk on your lips. Jennie laughs at you in full, loving how carefree you are right now. In a way, she's happy that your manager called earlier; otherwise the two of you most surely would be locked away in your bedroom right now. This experience is definitely one she'll cherish. 

"Unbelievable," she sighs, shaking her head and going along with it. 

You click the latch on the small box, it's material now weathered and rusty as it creaks when you open it. Jennie steps closer to you to examine its contents, and you fight to contain how hard your heart starts beating at the feeling of her hand on your lower back. 

"No way…" you utter, voice full of disbelief as your eyes land on one of your most prized possessions from childhood. 

"What?" Jennie asks, genuinely on the edge of her metaphorical seat. 

"This butterfly hair clip," you inform, slipping the small contraption between your fingers as you hold it up for her to see, "I won it at a fair with my mom and I always wondered where it went…" 

"It's beautiful, Y/N," she says, ooh-ing and ahh-ing at the details etched into it. For something so small and seemingly unassuming, it's actually very unique. 

"I want you to have it." You say, taking a step away so you can look at her. She instantly goes to refuse, saying, "I can't! You just found it after all this time--"

"And I went all that time without it. If you take it, I'll know it's safe with you. And you can use it to remember me by." You say, your gaze softening as you watch her debate with herself. 

"Okay. But if you ever want it back, call me." 

"Roger that." You say dorkily, earning yourself a roll of those dark eyes you find yourself getting lost in. 

"And for the record, Y/N, I could never forget you. Pretty hair clip or not." Her confession makes you feel happy on a whole new level; knowing that you've left an impact on her is truly a wonderful thing. 

"So, what now?" She asks, breaking the happy lull your conversation found itself in. 

"We can walk around the park for a little while, or…" you start, waiting for Jennie to prod you further. Both of you know exactly what game you're playing, but it's still fun nonetheless. 

"Or?" She inquires, stepping closer as she wraps her arms around your shoulders. She nonchalantly gives you a once over, knowing what power her darkening gaze holds over you. 

"We can go back to my place. Maybe play a little footsie, who knows?" You say, shrugging your shoulders with a stupid grin. Even while seducing someone, you can't resist being a geek. 

"Footsie?" Jennie gasps, raising her eyebrows, "What kind of girl do you take me for? That only happens after at least 2 dates in." 

"Such a prude, Ms. Kim. How can I change your mind?" 

She presses a finger to her cheek, pretending to think, before getting an idea. Her lips flirt with the shell of your ear as she whispers obscenities into it, turning you to mush with every new scenario she puts in your head. 

You stiffen as she kisses your jaw, the action catching you off guard as you continue reeling from her words. 

"I can do that, I think," you cough out, stumbling over the words a little bit. She laughs at the effect she has on you; seeing your confidence waver is a nice role reversal, and it's something she could definitely get used to. 

"Let's go." She commands, now taking your hand to pull you after her, just like you had done before.

◇◇◇◇◇

It's painful, how hard Jennie has to restrain herself from touching you as you fumble with your keys. She told herself she'd keep her hands to herself until you got inside, just in case any stray paparazzi managed to catch you two together. The last thing either of you need is some new scandal, especially with your careers in a vulnerable spot as they're really beginning to take off.

"If you don't get that door open within the next 10 seconds, then I'll just take you out here in the hallway." 

You audibly gulp at the image she just conjured up in your mind, and you speed up your movements. The prompting worked, evidently, because soon she's practically shoving you through the doorway.

"Finally," she breathes against your lips, pressing you up against the door once you've locked it back. 

"I've been waiting to do this since we met earlier." She indulges you in that little secret, smiling at the way you whimper when she pulls your leg up to wrap around her hips. 

"I'm all yours," you say, making Jennie's heart flutter at the sentiment. For the night, you're hers and she's yours. "...now kiss me," you command, growing more impatient with each feather-light kiss she presses to your jaw. 

"So bossy," she toys, making you roll your eyes. 

"You have no idea, babe." 

She bites her lip as your husky voice makes its way to her ears, thick with the desire she's been steadily building within you all night. You tug her forward, your fingers bunching up the material of her shirt with little care as her lips meet yours. 

Her tongue swipes across your bottom lip, asking for a permission that you granted the second she touched you. You pull her chin down slightly, allowing the kiss to deepen as you tangle your other hand in her hair. 

After an especially bruising bite to her lip -- one that thrills her to her core -- she pulls away, breathlessly asking, "How're you so good at this?" 

You cackle against her, taken aback by how genuine the question sounded. "Practice for the kdramas, of course." 

"I haven't had to do this," you slide a hand between your bodies, smirking at the gasp that sounds off deep in her throat as you make contact with her, "yet though. That might be a little extreme for the screen." 

"You think?" She scoffs softly, bringing her hands up to gather your hair to one side. She presses gentle kisses to your neck, prepping the surface for the dark marks she'll most certainly be leaving there later. 

"Ready?" You ask, making sure she wants to go through with this.

"You have no idea, babe." She copies your statement from earlier, garnering another smile from you. She swears she can never get enough of that sweet look on your face.

"Follow me," you say, giving her another peck to last until you reach the bedroom.

◇◇◇◇◇  The Morning After ◇◇◇◇◇

Warm, glittering rays of sunlight sneak past the curtains of your apartment window, shining gently through the light material. A dream-like haze befalls the room, serving as a wonderful greeting once you peek your eyes open. The only thing capable of rivaling such a wonderful sight is the woman beside you, her soft breaths keeping your shoulder warm. 

As you turn your head to look at her, careful not to wake her, your heart flips. Having her here next to you is the only reason you even believe last night happened; it was magical -- the stuff of fantasy. The two of you did everything: acted on every desire, every impulse -- you truly made the most of the night, determined to make it unforgettable. 

A few blissful minutes later, she stirs beside you. "Good morning, Y/N." Her eyes remain closed, still safe from the bright light of the morning as she smirks at the memories replaying in her mind. 

You lay a small kiss to her lips, simply missing how they feel against your own. "Morning, beautiful." 

A content sigh slips past her lips as she presses them against your neck, cuddling further into you. "Last night was fun." 

You decide to tease her. "Eh, I've had better." 

If there's one thing that Jennie knows, it's that she's good in bed -- great, even -- and you definitely seemed to be enjoying yourself last night, just as much as she was. Still though, a bit of insecurity runs through her as she raises up on her elbow to look at you through her lashes. 

"Really?" She stills her fingers on your arm, stopping them from continuing the trail that they had been blazing just seconds ago. Her eyebrows furrow subtly, the action almost unnoticed by you. 

Deciding the joke isn't worth it, you cup her cheek and raise her head so she can meet your eyes. 

"No, I'm kidding. Last night was… something else." You chuckle, smiling as your eyes move around the room in an attempt to find the right word for it. When none come to mind -- no words capable of conveying how great it was -- you look back to her.

She has a knowing grin on her face, "I couldn't agree more." 

Sneaking a glance at the clock propped up on your bedside table, you get an idea. "You know, Jennie…" you start, purring her name out as you had last night, garnering that achingly familiar groan from her, "...we still have a few hours before either of our schedules start." Your suggestion hangs in the air as you roll her over onto her back, hovering over her and brushing your noses together. 

"Hmm, you don't say? Well you're in luck; I still have some things I wanna try out." She plays back, leaning up to press a kiss to the corner of your lips as her hands wander over your body.

Your eyes widen in shock, "What the hell could you POSSIBLY be thinking of?? We tried just about everything." She laughs at your reaction and pulls you down closer to her body to whisper in your ear. Jennie can feel you tremble with every new image she puts in your head, just like she had in the park, her lips dragging you further under as she sneaks little kisses to your skin here and there. 

"Let me get this gay straight: you want me to do that on the balcony? What if my neighbors see?" 

"They won't, we're on one of the top floors. And even if they do… would that really be so bad?" She lets the question hang in the air; she'd be lying if she said the idea of getting caught doesn't thrill her. Thinking of your lips on her neck as she rocks against you, pinned to the railing while out in the open for the world to see, sends a rush of warmth through her. 

"I wish you weren't so good at convincing me to do things. You're dangerous, Jennie Kim." You warn, pointing a disapproving finger at her. Your eyes nearly pop out when she kisses it, taking the digit in between her lips while looking up at you innocently. This woman will be the death of you. 

◇◇ Back At The Blackpink Dorm ◇◇

"Yah, I know! The new update looks so weird--" 

"There she is," Lisa says, motioning to the doorway, interrupting Jisoo and Rosé’s conversation about whatever new video game the unnie had downloaded.

Jennie leans on the heavy door as she locks it behind her, lazily spinning around on her heel with her lips drawn back in a huge gummy smile. 

"Somebody's happy…" Jisoo teases, shooting her a smirk. She's still riding the high you put her on, and it's no wonder her members are noticing. It's not like she's exactly trying to hide it, either. 

"How was your night? Have fun with Y/N?" The maknae wiggles her eyebrows while propping herself up on her elbows to see Jennie's reaction.

"LISA! She wasn't supposed to know!" Rosé shouts, letting out a disappointed huff. The younger girl only shrugs, a stupid smirk on her lips. Some people just wanna watch the world burn. 

The brunette's daze is momentarily broken at this, and she asks what they're talking about. 

Jisoo lets out a hesitant breath before explaining, "We saw you two leave together, but we agreed to not bring it up until you did." She shoots some daggers at Lisa before continuing, "Somebody can't seem to keep her mouth shut, though." 

Jennie only chuckles now, not really caring if they knew or not. Her night was too wonderful to keep to herself; she would've ended up telling them anyway. 

"Gather round, girls; I'll fill you in." 

◇◇◇◇◇ Months Later  ◇◇◇◇◇

"Why exactly do we have to go to this premiere again?" Jennie grumbles, looking out the window of their limousine. She'd much rather be back at the dorm, snuggled into her cozy heap of pillows and blankets with Netflix playing on her tv. 

"Some of our colleagues are starring as background characters, so YG wants us to attend and show our support." Jisoo informs, always seeming to have more knowledge than all of the other girls combined. Jennie nods; the reasoning is sound, but she'd still prefer to be home. Mingling with business people for god knows how long doesn't seem all that enticing to her. 

"What's the movie?" Lisa asks, throwing the question behind her to the other girls as she searches the cubby for some complimentary snacks. 

"Empress of the Heart," Rosé answers, finally knowing something that Jisoo doesn't. 

"Let's watch the trailer for it. If we have to sit through it then we might as well see what we're getting ourselves into." Lisa suggests, her fingers busy opening the bag of chips she chose from the assortment. 

"Yeah, okay." Jennie says, her statement followed by words of agreement from the other girls. Rosé takes her phone out to search the title, pepping up when she spots it. She whispers something to Jisoo and Lisa, Jennie paying no mind as she watches the buildings pass by. Her favorite thing to fidget with is secure in her grip, occupying her mind. It's familiar design feels good in her hands -- like it's right where it belongs. (Yes, this is what you think it is).

The other girls put their acting skills to use as they hit play, keeping straight faces when your voice comes through the phone speakers. Jennie's head snaps over to them, recognizing the sound in an instant. "Y-Y/N's starring in it?" She asks, voice coming out as a stutter. The thought of seeing you again thrills her, but she doesn't know if she can do that without falling even deeper. Your night together left her with lasting feelings, none of which she was prepared for in the slightest, and she knows they'll be reignited the moment she lays eyes on you. 

"Mhm." They nod sympathetically, all knowing how much she's thought about you the last few months. 

Their driver knocks on the partition, requesting to open it. They give him the all clear, and soon he's rolling it down to inform them, "We're here, ladies." 

"I'll be okay," Jennie tells them, attempting to stop their worries from growing anymore than they already have. She plays the statement back in her head, whispering it to herself as she exits the limo; tonight could only go one of two ways, and it depends entirely on you.

☆☆ Part 2 Linked Up Top ☆☆