#what will i do without the trusty comfort jacket.....

[lamboficarus]

Kicks legs and whinesss

Waaaaaa i have to. Wear plastic wrap on my arm because we have no bandages this is hell on earth. It is COLD. COLD PLASTIC !!!!!

Im wearintg a jacket cause inneed to sleep soon and keep it on while i do so but i dont wwnnnaaaa its gonna get so messsyyyyy its gonna be hell on earrtttthhhh

[fiannalover]

In/direct

“Brrrrr, it’s really cold! Somehow, I didn’t think Coumarine would be this cold this time of the year!”

“We are on the northern side of Kalos. If anything, it should be expected.”

“See, I do understand that. But, having only been here when it is all summer and lively, it is still something hard to accept.”

With that, Zena and Danua walked onwards, some groceries Ramos requested from them in hand, the former’s Furfrou elegantly marching onwards without a care in the world. It was not too long after lunch, but the cloudy weather made the location much darker than what the time would make one expect, and it certainly didn't make the weather any easier to bear.

“Someone is dealing with this better than you.” Danua pointed out.

“Haha, yeah. I'm glad I haven't given him any trims lately. It's best to let him keep his natural coat this time of the year. I'm still a bit jealous, though.” Zena said.

Danua thought that over a bit, kept safe from the bite of winter by trusty jacket alongside the rest of her seasonal gear. She didn't really have fluffy Pokémon. Maybe Trevenant would count? 

“Oh! Look, that lady is selling some hot chocolate on her stand! Let's get some!” Zena suggested.

“I don't think I want any. But sure, we can stop there.” The local conceded.

The shopkeeper carefully poured a cup of the beverage for Zena, hands warming up just by holding it… which, in turn, warned her she'd likely burn her tongue if she drank it immediately. 

Well, she'd just have to wait for a bit. “Thank you! Have a nice day!” The blonde said, as she returned to their previous plan.

Calmly, the two girls and the little squire made their way to the monorail, exchanging conversation as they did so. Upon boarding, they found out their means of transportation was pleasantly near empty, letting Furfrou comfortably sit next to them.

Eventually, Zena’s drink cooled off enough for consumption to be a realistic endeavor, a wave of warmth and happiness coming to her face as she did so. Just by seeing that, Danua could feel herself undergo that rush of red as well.

“Do you want some?”

“Not really. I don't think I'm thirsty or too cold or anything.”

“Don't be shy! I noticed you were staring, we can share!”

Ah. Whoops.

Well, she had to drink it now.

Thanking her, Danua grabbed the cup and took a small sip. Sweet, thick, comfiness in beverage form. Everything chocolate should be.

… Wait. Wasn't this an in-

“So? It's good, isn't it?” She asked.

Returning the drink to her, Danua said. “Yes. Yes, it is.”

It was nice, spending time with one another like this.

—-----------

Somewhere in Lumiose, two men walked under the same dark, cloudy afternoon sky. The taller one, a professor, rambled and ranted about something or another, while the other one, a musician, occasionally cut in with some snark or another short remark.

Two friends, nothing more, nothing less. Mushiness was never their style, but companionship was still appreciated, even if they seemed to bicker every other day they spent together.

“Myldrid.” Tempo interrupted, instincts saying this was as good a time as any to do so.

“Yes-”

There, Tempo pulled the taller man down by his collar, planting a kiss on Myldrid’s lips. They stood there for a second, before he broke them apart as if saying ‘that’s it’.

“What are we~?” The professor asked with some fake overkill drama.

“Nothing.” The musician smirked in return, both of them laughing from this comfortable back-and-forth they were well used to.

It was nice, spending time with one another like this.

[cyberhopper]

Least Scary Thing in the World

Characters: Luigi, Daisy Genres/themes: Vampire AU, hurt/comfort, friendship, identity reveal Also posted on AO3

--------

“I-I’m different.” The words were spoken in a voice more tremor than tenor, and he wrapped his arms around his middle for comfort, both encased in the sleeves of his fleece jacket.

Daisy just smiled, the expression both patient and teasing as she leaned dangerously over the edge of the cliff. Below them lay an expanse of dark ocean that seemed to go on forever. Weren’t there islands out there; other countries? Luigi knew they weren’t alone in the world, but when the sea looked as empty as a black hole, it was hard to imagine life beyond the Mushroom Kingdom.

“Well, yeah,” said Daisy, with barely held back laughter. “Everyone knows you’re different, Weegee. You’re about as weird as they come.” She punctuated the end of the statement with a playful jab at his ribs. How strange, that such a sharp nudge could soften her words.

“No, you don’t get it.”

“Maybe you should do a better job of explaining, then.”

He heaved a deep, quiet sigh. The wind picked up just for a moment, ruffling the wave of auburn behind Daisy’s head. His own hair remained tucked in place by his trusty cap.

When he looked at her properly, he could see the glitter of starlight reflected in the pearly sapphires of her eyes. She was made of gemstones and fire, and nothing could compare.

He hunched his shoulders and hurriedly turned away, practically folding in on himself. He had been admiring her a lot lately, most often without conscious thought, but every now and again he’d allow his gaze to drift over her form with the full intention of appreciating her.

She was beautiful, not just visually but as a person. She was so strong, so confident... a born leader and a true friend with just a hint of a rebellious streak. She was everything the meek, humble Luigi was not. He wanted her and wanted to be her.

But even if he hadn’t been shackled by crippling social anxiety and an embarrassing tendency to panic, there was another reason why he wouldn’t dare ask her out, or even try to push their friendship closer. There was only one person who knew Luigi’s secret, and that person was the brother who’d been with him through everything. Mario had always warned him not to tell anyone else, terrified by the idea of some narrow-minded individual wanting to hurt an innocent man out of fear.

For years, Luigi had been completely happy to follow Mario’s order. He had no desire to be hurt or labelled a monster - especially over something that had been so unfairly forced upon him. He’d gotten used to his situation, but had never gotten comfortable with the idea of it being common knowledge.

So what had changed? Why was he suddenly standing on a barren clifftop, staring at the crashing black sea while he seriously considered spilling his deepest secret to the woman beside him?

It made no sense. He couldn’t justify it no matter how hard he tried. His only justification was one that Mario would never accept.

He trusted Daisy. In the two years they had known each other - their relationship slowly shifting from wary acquaintances to genuine friends - she had never shown herself to be anything other than perfectly open. Yes, her honesty led to a lot of blunt remarks and occasional rudeness, but she didn’t mean any harm. She was simply built to speak her mind without fear - a skill Luigi often envied.

He was doing mental gymnastics trying to figure out why Daisy’s blunt honesty made her a worthy candidate to learn his secret. But when it came down to it, Luigi was just tired of hiding. He loved Mario, but he longed for someone other than his (slightly overprotective) brother to confide in. Just imagining Daisy’s reaction was both thrilling and terrifying. And because she was so open, he knew she wasn’t faking her affection for him. She didn’t pity him; she actually liked spending time with him.

Not to mention her fearlessness. She’d jump a mile if someone sneaked up on her but was never bothered by “regular” scary things, like ghosts and darkness. Last year, Luigi had accompanied her to the funfair and they had walked through a haunted house attraction that used real Boos and other ghosts to scare the guests. Luigi had been a nervous wreck by the end, and Daisy had been laughing.

It stood to reason that if she wasn’t fazed by any of those things, she probably wouldn’t react negatively to his secret.

But by the Stars, it was hard to even consider telling anyone after all this time.

“It’s going to sound really weird...” he began.

“C’mon, Luigi, I won’t judge you,” she said teasingly. “Well, maybe I will... but I won’t make fun of you!”

“I’m pretty sure those mean the same thing...”

“Luigi, if you try to reverse out of this conversation, I’m going to dump you in the sea. Come on, tell me!” She was giving him her full attention. If he skirted around the topic much longer, she was going to lose interest and turn away. If he was ever going to say it, he needed to say it now.

A beat of silence–

“I’m a vampire.”

He deliberately turned his head away and focused his gaze on the crests of the waves. As soon as the words left his mouth, he was beset by a sudden, overpowering conviction that he had made the wrong choice. Fear clenched his chest and made his stomach churn. Any minute now, he was going to hear her backing away in fright as the horrible reality of his words sunk in, and everything between them would be ruined forever–

“You’re a vampire.”

Daisy’s voice was almost entirely flat save for an edge of disbelief.

“...Yes?” Luigi managed. It came out as a squeak.

“Are you - look. If this is a prank, then well done, you genuinely caught me off-guard. But if it’s not a joke, can you please say so now?”

He realised that an opportunity to backpedal was being presented to him. He could let out a weak laugh and tell her that yes, it was all a lame joke.

But no, that wasn’t right. He couldn’t lie to her like that. Even if this conversation ended horribly, he knew he needed to commit.

“I-it’s true. About three years ago - before we met - Mario and I were exploring an old castle in the woods. We thought we’d just find... the usual. You know, Boos. But instead we found... a strange man, who attacked us. I don’t remember anything that happened after that. I woke up hours later, to find that Mario had saved us both and carried me to safety, but... th-the vampire... managed to bite me before he could.”

He could see, out of the corner of his eye, Daisy giving him some pretty heavy scrutiny. He wasn’t sure what she was looking for until she said–

“Aren’t vampires supposed to have fangs and stuff? Where are yours?”

“Ah, well, Mario and I decided that.. we couldn’t let anyone know what happened. He wanted to keep me safe, so he told me to... keep it all a secret. I have to do things to make sure nobody knows...”

He hesitated, because this was the first time he had shown anyone this side of himself. But he’d gone this far, so he might as well finish.

Pushing back his left sleeve, he revealed a thin, brown leather wristband adorned with a single green gem. A precious item given to him by a wizard in another land. With slightly shaky hands, he pulled it off his arm.

The effect was immediate. He felt a sudden weight in his jaw as his canine teeth lengthened and sharpened, the sensation unfamiliar yet somehow right. He let his mouth fall open to show Daisy the elongated teeth, deliberately avoiding using any body language that might be considered threatening. Judging by her quick intake of breath, she had seen.

He waited for her to react beyond that.

She did nothing for a while. She just stared at him.

Then, very slowly, she closed the distance between them. She grasped Luigi’s shoulders and turned him around to face her head-on, every movement gentler than he expected. There was no fear in her face and he didn’t think there ever had been.

He didn’t realise that his mouth was stupidly hanging open until she reached up and let her finger trace down the length of his left fang. It lingered at the very tip, testing the sharpness there.

There was wonder in her face.

“You’re a vampire,” she said.

He smiled weakly, heart hammering. “...Surprise?”

She laughed and smacked his shoulder, but the playfulness quickly turned into thoughtfulness. She touched his fang again.

“...So, you drink blood?”

“Just - animal blood,” he said, feeling the need to clarify. “Never person blood.”

“Really? Not ever? Not even to know what it’s like?”

His stomach rolled slightly at the thought. “No...”

“Just kidding. I know you’d never do that.”

He gazed up into her sapphire eyes. There wasn’t a hint of fear in them. In fact, the affection she had always showed him was still there, a gentle simmering warmth tucked away behind the blue.

The only thing that seemed to have changed tonight was that Luigi now shared his secret with two people, not just one.

“You really don’t think...” he began, before trailing off anxiously, biting his own lip and immediately wincing.

“Trust you to forget you’ve got fangs and cut your own lip.” Daisy shook her head, looking at him with fond exasperation. “You’re really the worst candidate for a vampire, you know, Weegee?”

He coughed a little. “You don’t think I’m a monster, then?” he said in the most offhanded way he could manage.

Daisy, naturally, saw right through him. Her face softened. “Luigi, you’re very obviously still the same person. It doesn’t matter that you’re a vampire; that’s just what you are, not who you are. And who you are is pretty great.”

He felt blood creeping up his neck towards his face. He hoped she couldn’t see it in the dim light.

“Nobody else knows except Mario,” he said, almost guiltily.

“It’s your choice whether you tell other people or not. I’ll support you either way. But honestly, you should consider telling Peach. And Toadette; she’s your friend, right?”

“Yes...”

“They won’t hate you. They’ll know that you’re still the same person.”

He was starting to feel like he could breathe freely again. The night air was suddenly fresher, the stars suddenly brighter, and when he glanced out over the ocean, he spotted an island on the horizon that he could have sworn wasn’t there before.

“Thank you,” he said, softly but sincerely. “I was worried, but... I’m glad you don’t feel badly about me.”

He let out an exclamation as Daisy pulled him into a tight hug, crushing his face against her shoulder. Inches from his ear came the steady thump-thump of her powerful heart. He was glad that real vampires weren’t out-of-control maniacs driven insane by the mere presence of blood. This did not stop his mind from wandering, wondering how she might taste...

Wrenching his mind away from such unacceptable thoughts, he smiled against her shoulder. “Thanks...”

“You might be a vampire, but you’re an adorable little vampire,” said Daisy.

[expectiations]

aaand The Gentlemen episode 4 here we go

ah crazy old - WHAT THE DUCK DID I JUST SEE

Jimmy and Freddy share one half of a brain cell. i do not kmow if i mean that with affectionate sarcasm or frustrated disbelief. also i cannot imagine living in a place where i can see my puffs each breathe i take. i can hardly last in the usual AC temp with my trusty jacket. i also want to comfort my friend and her fear of being single (after 7? 8? years) but i don't know how to without feeling like biting my tongue because her boyfriend is a frkn red flag. okay back to watching

yuck statues

ugh naïve princess and her gibberishgibber eyes

you're such a bad actor boy.

what the duck kind of coffin is that

YUCK flirting

scandals, secrets, society - never one without the other

oh and what do we have here dowager duchess and groundskeeper?

OH MY DUCK JIMMYYYYY

okay gotta duck off to classes for a bit brb

now baack let's watch Jimmy ruin everything

i think there's something broken in me because why do I find Susie and Eddie's dynamic "cute"

Sabrina, I get it. But do you really have to - i don't know, maybe lessen the tension a bit

pity party with Freddy

OH MY DUCK JIMMYYYYY

oh Eddie Eddie Eddie taking everyone at their word then getting duped

ah a N*zi

yuck statue

it's funny to me how something so ... horrific can be made mundane with the right choice of words. i don't think it should be - funny, i mean. ironic, perhaps?

so Eddie got the approval of the brother now

oh inside jokes between Eddie and Susie? check.

aaaand that's it for episode 4. going off now. might study for an exam. might not. should do. bye.

[secondarywindow]

Enhancing Comfort and Efficiency: The Magic of Secondary Window Glazing

Picture this: a cozy winter evening, sipping your favorite hot beverage while watching the snowfall outside. The only thing standing between you and the chilly weather is your trusty secondary window glazing. If you haven't heard of it, you're in for a treat! Let's dive into the world of secondary window glazing, an unsung hero in the realm of home improvement.

Unveiling the Mystery: What is Secondary Window Glazing?

Bespoke Secondary Glazing Designs, often referred to as secondary glazing, is a discreet yet powerful solution for enhancing the energy efficiency and comfort of your home. It involves installing an additional layer of glass or acrylic to existing windows, creating an insulating barrier. Think of it as a snug jacket for your windows, keeping your home warm in winter and cool in summer.

The Silent Revolution: Why Opt for Secondary Window Glazing?

Energy Efficiency Boost:

Did you know that windows are often the weak link in a home's thermal envelope? Traditional single-pane windows allow heat to escape during winters and infiltrate during summers, resulting in increased energy bills. Secondary window glazing acts as a guardian, reducing heat transfer and making your home more energy-efficient.

Noise Reduction:

Tired of the urban cacophony infiltrating your living space? Secondary glazing is your acoustic knight in shining armor. The additional layer provides a sound barrier, muffling street noises and creating a serene oasis within your home.

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Thinking about replacing your windows? Hold that thought! Secondary window glazing offers a cost-effective alternative to window replacement. It provides similar benefits without the hefty price tag, making it an attractive option for those on a budget.

DIY or Professional Installation: Decoding the Installation Process

Now that we've piqued your interest, you might be wondering about the installation process. Well, fret not – it's not rocket science!

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Are you the weekend warrior type, armed with tools and a can-do attitude? Secondary window glazing kits are available for the intrepid DIYer. These kits typically include all the necessary materials and step-by-step instructions. It's like assembling a piece of furniture but with more insulation involved!

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Breaking Myths: Debunking Common Misconceptions

Aesthetics Sacrifice:

Worried that your windows will resemble a science experiment gone wrong? Fear not! Secondary glazing is designed to be discreet and unobtrusive. The sleek design complements your existing windows, preserving the aesthetic appeal of your home.

Ventilation Woes:

Concerned about trapping stale air inside? Secondary glazing doesn't mean sacrificing ventilation. Many systems are designed to allow for easy access to the primary window, ensuring you can enjoy the breeze when needed.

DIY Complexity:

Think secondary glazing installation is reserved for the pros? Not true! With user-friendly kits and clear instructions, even the DIY novice can successfully enhance their home with secondary glazing.

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Ever thought about reducing your carbon footprint while improving your home? Secondary window glazing is the unsung hero in the quest for sustainability.

Reduced Energy Consumption:

Dream of a world where your home is an energy-saving marvel? Secondary glazing contributes to reduced energy consumption by minimizing the need for heating or cooling. It's a small change with a significant impact on the environment.

Extended Window Lifespan:

What if I told you that secondary glazing can extend the life of your existing windows? The additional layer acts as a shield, protecting your windows from the elements and potentially saving them from an early retirement.

The Bottom Line: Investing in Comfort and Savings

In a world where every home improvement decision feels like a complex chess move, secondary window glazing emerges as the queen – versatile, powerful, and crucial for victory. It's not just about keeping the elements at bay; it's about creating a haven where comfort meets efficiency.

So, are you ready to transform your windows into energy-efficient, noise-resistant champions? The magic of secondary window glazing awaits – a silent revolution in the world of home improvement. Embrace it, and let your home bask in the warmth of innovation.

[regulatedstrawberry]

Tails' Solo Adventure - Prologue

Rating: T (But so far, it's reading as G) Summary: Tails decides to embark on his own journey, without Sonic. Takes place after the events of Sonic Frontiers. Chapters: 6/? (In-progress) Total word count: 5.4k Read the Prologue on AO3!

“Alrighty everyone, prepare for landing!”

After what had been hours flying above the ocean, and a pit stop at Angel Island to drop off Knuckles, Tails, the trusty pilot of the Tornado, began preparing for descent towards their home. In some ways, this was his favorite part about flying, after takeoff and maintaining altitude. Aside from the stunt of it all, it was nice to see the detail of the world below come into view - the sparkling waves of the ocean, and the outline of Green Hill, just in view. “Sonic, you might want to hold on!”

“Hold on?” Sonic, standing on the left wing of the plane, looked over at Tails with that charismatic grin of his. “But I’m having such a great time up here!” Playfully, Sonic spread his arms out in defiance. With the wind blowing through his quills, and the sun glowing against him, it was as if he had never been touched by the cyber corruption that had nearly taken him over just earlier.

“Sonic, be careful!” Amy pleaded from the passenger’s seat. While Sonic was quick to move on, for Amy, their adventure in the Starfall Islands literally just ended about five hours ago. Sure, they were used to saving the world by the skin of their teeth, but the last thing she needed was for Sonic to meet his end just because he was acting reckless. “You know there’s just ocean below us, right?”

“Eh, fiiine,” Sonic sighed, rolling his eyes but not really - he knew Amy was just looking out for him. With an easygoing smile, he lowered himself from standing to sitting on the wing of the plane, hands gripping the edge. “But even if I fell, Tails would’ve caught me, right buddy?”

Tails caught Sonic’s mischievous smile in a brief glance, before focusing on the skies ahead, keeping his eye on the nose of the plane. “Mm, if I felt like it,” he joked, shooting Sonic another glance. “Nah, I’m kidding- of course I would!”

The three of them laughed, as the plane flew steadily towards their island home. The air felt sweet with the scent of the ocean, the sun beginning to dip towards the horizon. This ending felt so good, Tails thought, that he wished he could stay like this forever.

---

After what was a solid four hours of tuneups, minor repairs, and refueling, Tails slumped himself into the chair of his workshop’s hangar, hands and face covered in sweat and grease. It was pretty standard routine after an adventure, but it didn’t make it less taxing.

Besides, he needed to make sure the Tornado was in tip-top shape before he left tomorrow morning. His duffel bag was packed with all the essentials — some food and water for the road, toothbrush, some advanced weapons, and a jacket just in case, to name a few. It was going to be one of his first adventures on his own, without Sonic, or really, anyone he knew.

In some ways he was dreading it. Was he really ready for this? The decision to call this off was tempting. But no, he needed to do this. He can’t keep relying on Sonic to save him forever. He needs to put everything he’s learned to the test, and see what he’s truly capable of.

The weight of it all was coming down on Tails as he sank into the chair. Slowly, he closed his eyes, letting out a deep, full body sigh. This chair felt softer, more comfortable than usual. He could almost fall—

“Hey Tails!”

Sonic’s voice rang out from the front of the hangar. It jolted Tails awake, as he sat up straight with his heart racing, a fox in the headlights. “Amy’s heading out soon!”

That’s right, Amy was coming up today to say goodbye. Not even four days after they’ve arrived back, Amy was headed on a road trip with Sticks and Cream towards Spagonia. Although, according to Amy, ‘We’ll see where we end up!”

“Coming!” Tails called out, pulling himself up from his chair. He quickly made his way to the sink in the back of the room, washing the grease off his hands and hastily wiping it against the towel, before heading to the entrance.

---

Under the midday sun, Sonic and Amy watched as Tails ran out to greet them. Amy was all set for the occasion, wearing a straw hat and neck scarf, accompanied by her hammer and a singular large briefcase.

“Tails!” Amy smiled, dropping the suitcase to approach him first. The two were quick to give each other a big hug — Tails could feel Amy squeezing him more than usual. “Oh Tails, I’m going to miss you so much!”

“Oof- I’m going to miss you too!” Tails’s voice was muffled, as he was getting crushed under Amy’s killer hug. Once she loosened her grip, he pulled away to look up at her sunny face. She really was like a big sister to him, in some ways. He wasn’t going to cry, because he knew they would see each other soon, but his heart was hurting just a little. “I hope you guys have a lot of fun! I wanna see all of your pictures!”

“You know it!” Amy beamed, her voice giddy at the taste of adventure. “We’re going to have so much fun.”

“Tell Sticks and Cream we said hi!” Sonic added, giving Amy a warm smile. “You guys are gonna have a blast. I’m excited for you.” 

Amy smiled wistfully at Sonic, her shoulders lowering slightly. “I will, Sonic. Thank you.”

She walked over to give Sonic a gentle hug, and Tails could see Sonic look down in slight surprise. Then, after a moment, Sonic let out a small sigh, and put his arms around her lightly, reciprocating the gesture. It made Tails smile a little, knowing how awkward Sonic normally is to physical affection.

“I should probably get going,” Amy sighed wistfully, bending down to pick up her suitcase and hammer. “I told Sticks and Cream I’d be there soon to pick them up.”

“Don’t let us hold you back, Ames,” Sonic reassured. “We’ll see you soon.”

---

As they watched Amy drive off, Tails felt a pit in his stomach, realizing that this would be some of his final few moments together with Sonic for a while. He looked up at the hedgehog with a sad expression on his face. Sonic was like a big brother, having practically raised him. His heart was racing with anxiety, the thought of just ditching the plan taking over in his brain. Maybe Sonic would ask him to stay! And they wouldn’t have to say bye.

“You doing okay, buddy?” Sonic asked, snapping Tails back to reality. Sonic reached over to put a hand on Tails’ shoulder. “You look like you got something on your mind.”

“Yeah, I guess…” Tails looked down at the ground, his ears flattening. It was getting harder to speak. “I dunno.”

“Hey, look at me.”

Tails looked up to see Sonic with that same, warm smile on his face, although there was definitely something hidden behind it.

“You’re gonna do great,” Sonic said confidently, putting his other hand on Tails’ shoulder. “I definitely wanna hear all about your big adventure when you get back. I'm gonna miss you buddy, but I know you’re ready for this.”

Tails felt his eyes turn bleary. It wasn’t fair how easy Sonic was able to clock him, but Tails knew he wasn’t doing a good job of hiding it. “I know,” he sniffed, quickly bringing a wrist to his eye. “I guess— I guess I’m still kind of nervous,” he admitted.

“That’s okay,” Sonic reassured. “But you’ll be fine, I know it. It doesn’t matter where you are, I know you’re smart enough to figure out a way.” He put his right hand on Tails’ head, playfully messing it up a little. “And if you need anything, you can call me. I’ll be there before you know it. I promise.”

Tails laughed a little, feeling comforted by the gesture. He was going to miss it. “Thank you, Sonic,” he said, more strength in his voice. He looked up at Sonic, standing a little taller this time. “I’ll be so much stronger when I get back. You’ll see.”

“That’s the spirit,” Sonic grinned, giving Tails a healthy pat on the shoulder. “I can’t wait.”

Interested? Please give kudos and read Chapter 1 on AO3!

[archived-kin]

three names

note from kin: apparently that domestic diluc piece really did wonders for my writers block because i managed to churn this entire thing out within one night

anyway i know little to nothing about childe’s backstory so do be warned that i am only very loosely following the information we get from his story quest/voice lines/etc!

(also as a heads up childe is referred to as ajax throughout this piece! for those who don't know, ajax is his birth name)

fandom: genshin impact

character(s): gn!reader, childe, zhongli

pairing(s): childe/reader

warning(s): death (brief and not descriptive), mentions of blood

genre: angst i guess?? it isn’t SUPER heavy but this is very much Not A Happy Piece

You’ve known Ajax for what feels like forever.

The two of you grow up together on the streets of Morepesok, spending the short hours of daylight chasing each other down icy streets and pelting each other with snowballs until your fingers are frozen solid under their mittens and you’re both lying exhausted under the trees. He’s still a somewhat skittish and shy young boy, always hiding behind you while you ask the local farmers for permission to play in their fields and leaving all of the decisions to you when it comes to your childish games.

You know exactly how to get those blue eyes of his to light up like no other, though. Ever since the two of you were tiny tots, Ajax has always been enchanted by stories of adventures, of heroes who journey far from home to conquer evils beyond his childish comprehension, fighting with both sword and mind to quell any hardships or troubles that come their way. He listens to his father tell him these stories with a sparkle in his eye like no other, and begs for a new chapter as soon as one is finished.

You take advantage of this love of adventure to coax him into playing with you - him, the hero and you, his trusty sidekick, braving fight after fight together until the great sea monster is defeated, or until the brainwashed former friend was released - until the world bows down at your feet. You stand beside him and smile as he cackles, foot set atop a stone and brandishing a stick to the sky like a sword.

While Ajax longs for battle and glory, however, you secretly prefer the stories about the fisherman who wins the favour of the sea gods by saving a seal from a net, about the fae who collects the treasures of the land in an attempt to preserve the remains of a race she has loved and lost, about the dragon who follows the rainbow far into the east to find a companion who has fallen under the control of an evil sorcerer. Where he finds interest in tales of clashing blades and rumbling cannons, you find interest in the warmth of a campfire, surrounded by laughing companions that have shared a long journey together. You don’t love these games for the fights and the victories like he does - you love the games because it means you can be with him.

You suppose that this difference of interests is the reason you stay behind when he leaves on his own ‘heroic journey’.

The two of you are only fourteen - still children, for Archons’ sake - and Ajax has long since lost interest in the mundanity of his daily life.

“All we do is eat and play,” He mutters with a pout, poking at the snow with a stick. “It’s boring.”

You tilt your head in confusion and trot up to stand beside him, face half-hidden behind a scarf wrapped like a vice around your neck. “What do you mean?”

He scoffs a little then, and offers you a boyish grin. “Don’t worry, [Name]. You’re an exception.”

You still don’t understand what he means, not exactly, but it still sends butterflies fluttering in your stomach.

The next day, he knocks on your door, dressed in an over-large coat and his favourite hat, a backpack strapped firmly to his back and a rusty shortsword in his hand. He beams at you as you open the door, and announces that he’s running away to find an adventure, and that he was wondering if you wanted to come with him.

You ask if this is another game he wants to play. He shakes his head and tells you that this is for real - that he’s going to explore far and wide, to seek out the quests that he’s heard so many stories about. He’s going to be a hero, and he wants you to be his sidekick, just like always.

But you have always been a little too timid, too afraid of going so far out into the snow, too aware of the dangers of a reckless jaunt like this. And so, bowing your head in shame, you answer that you can’t

He freezes for a moment then, disappointment clear on his face, but he replaces it with a a grin almost immediately. You don’t know it at the time, but this is the last time you’ll ever see him smile like this again.

“Don’t worry about it!” He reassures you. “I’ll bring back lots of souvenirs for you when I come back! Like a dragon head!”

“I don’t like heads.” You mumble. “Too much blood.”

He doesn’t falter. “A dragon claw, then!”

The two of you exchange brief goodbyes, neither of you aware of the magnitude of what Ajax is choosing to do, nor the consequences it will bring, and then he leaves. And you let him, watching his little figure disappear and melt into the blinding white of the snow.

It’s a mistake that continues to haunt you for the rest of your life.

He turns up again, two days later, lying unconscious on the outskirts of the forest by the village. A mere two days - but somehow, you’ve always felt as if he’d been away for much, much longer.

Ajax is never the same after that. He’s more distracted, more absent - he never wants to go out for walks in the fields with you anymore, nor does he have any interest in playing games or hearing stories. He still lets you follow him around and sit beside him, but he speaks less and less, and spends more and more time thinking.

You don’t give up on him, though. It doesn’t matter how much his blank gaze scares you sometimes, nor how unsettling the look on his face is after he shreds yet another hay training dummy to pieces. You hang around him anyway, talking about every little thing that comes to mind, and sometimes, he replies with the same silliness that he did when the two of you were younger.

It bothers you, the way that he swings so abruptly between the old him and the new him. Sometimes he’s just the boy you’d spent your childhood playing with, chasing you down the street only to stuff snow down the back of your jacket, then making you a hot drink afterwards as an apology when you declare that you hate him. But sometimes he isn’t.

His face stills, and his eyes go cold. He stares emptily at the snow beneath his feet, not responding when you call his name, and he returns to his garden sooner or later, to slaughter another line of training dummies. The way he gazes down at the wreckage, the way his hand clenches around the shaft of an arrow or the hilt of a blade, the way that he seems to hunger for more - it scares you.

Perhaps it is unsurprising that he joins the Fatui as soon as he turns seventeen.

He doesn’t tell you - he doesn’t tell anyone, not at first. He simply slips away and leaves, sometimes for days on end, and returns without a word as to his absence. You believe him when he tells you that it’s a series of job interviews in a different town, even congratulate him on the opportunity. You believe a lot of the lies he tells you.

It isn’t until you come upon him in the middle of one of his assignments that the wool is finally pulled away from your eyes.

You’re out in the city on a shopping trip by your mother’s request, carrying several baskets of fresh produce that just don’t grow quickly enough in your little seaside town, when you spot his auburn hair disappearing into a secluded alleyway. You follow quickly, opening your mouth to call out to him, only to snap it shut when you see what he’s doing.

A woman is lying beneath his foot, and he is crushing the breath out of her with the heel of his boot. There is a blade in his hand, glinting softly in the darkness of the alleyway.

The woman sobs breathlessly, begs for her life to be spared, her face contorted with fear and despair. But Ajax doesn’t flinch. In one, smooth movement, he points the blade to her neck and slashes.

You don’t know if the scream that echoes around the alleyway is yours or hers.

It’s only then that he finally turns around and sees you, and the mask covering the upper half of his face is all too familiar.

Your eyes fall upon the dead woman, her mouth still open in her final plea for mercy.

“Ajax,” You whisper, your voice trembling. “What have you done?”

The bloodstained blade in his hand clatters to the ground. “[Name]... what are you doing here?”

You don’t answer him. Your entire body feels numb. “You’re… you’re one of the Fatui.”

It isn’t a question.

He’s silent for a long time. Finally, he lets out a frustrated sigh, tearing the mask from his face and throwing it to the ground carelessly, and approaches you, hands held out as if comforting a frightened child.

“I didn’t want you to find out like this,” He says quietly.

“Were you ever going to let me find out?” You ask. Your eyes move back to the woman’s corpse despite everything in your brain screaming at you to look away, and your hands start shaking.

Ajax notices. He steps in front of the body, as if trying to shield it from your view. “Of course. I was just waiting for the right time to tell you, that’s all.”

“Why… why would you…?”

He meets your gaze. He shrugs. “I wanted to fight.”

There is blood staining the left side of his face. Your eyes are drawn to it in the same way they were to the corpse, and you feel a sudden burst of anger on her behalf. “How was this a fight? You trapped her in an alleyway - you didn’t even give her a chance to struggle!”

“This is different.” He states, as if it’s obvious, and his eyes go cold. “The woman was defying the will of the Tsaritsa. She needed to be disposed of.”

“Is that all you are now? A puppet of the Tsaritsa?!” You’re practically shouting now, tears threatening to start streaming down your face. You want to punch him, slap him, anything to make him realise what path he’s rapidly beginning to go down, but there isn’t any strength left in you. Not after what you just saw. “What happened to you?!”

“I changed,” He says simply, and his sea-blue eyes are frozen over completely. This isn’t the boy that you grew up and loved - and it occurs to you that he might not have been for a long, long time. “I grew up and I changed.”

“Ajax—” You begin, but he places a finger to your lips.

“It’s Tartaglia now.”

Perhaps if you look close enough, hope hard enough, you’ll be able to fool yourself into thinking there was some kind of emotion on his face - something, anything that proves that he still cares - but there is nothing but emptiness in his gaze.

You don’t sleep that night. You don’t sleep for a long, long time, unable to put a stop to the unrelenting march of thoughts streaming through your head like a gushing river, like the endless depths of the ocean, like the deep blue of his eyes...

You distract yourself as best you can. You move out of town while he’s out on another mission and take your parents with you, settling down in a small village at the base of a mountain. There, you busy yourself every hour of the day, taking solace in the ache of your muscles and the fatigue that weighs heavily on your limbs. The people of the village come to know you as the helping hand, the eager assistant, always raring to go when asked for a favour.

And yet, even as you sit around a table in the local bar, surrounded by warmth and chatter and familiar faces, you can’t help but feel an emptiness opening in your chest. Old Dmitri, manning the bar as usual, slides a tankard over to you with a sympathetic smile, and asks, “What’s wrong?”

You ask yourself that question more times than you can count, digging it deep into your skin, carving it into your mind, unable to help wondering, and yet... you never find an answer. What is wrong with you? Why does Ajax’s absence cut into you like a knife, keeping you awake deep into the night, plagued by dreams of cold, dead eyes and red blood pooling in the white snow? Why is it that, no matter how many times you remind yourself of the man in that alleyway and the body of the woman he’d just slaughtered, of the man that was not Ajax, of Tartaglia - you can only remember the grinning boy of your childhood?

Your parents don’t know why your eyes are always red-rimmed when you come down for breakfast in the morning, nor why you refuse to look at your surroundings when you go out into town, keeping your eyes focused determinedly on your dragging feet.  They don’t know how many hours you spend staring out into the deep sky, wondering if Ajax is watching the same stars as you are, whether he even thinks of you at all.

Everything around you seems to taunt you, and you realise something.

You have to leave. You have to run away, to find a home in a place where the streets don’t stir up memories of days long gone, where the crunch of the snow beneath your feet doesn’t remind you of the sound of tearing flesh, where you can just be without Ajax haunting you around every corner you turn.

And so you set off for Liyue. You journey to the land amidst monoliths, seeking golden soil warmed by the sun to escape the cold snow and icy rain. You do not stop moving until you reach the land where the mountains stretch high and the streets of the harbour are painted with red and yellow, where the people are unfamiliar, the buildings are unfamiliar - where everything is unfamiliar. You’re tired of dwelling on past memories, tired of putting yourself through the same pain.

You settle in quickly, taking up a job at Wanmin Restaurant and eventually saving up enough to afford more than the little hotel box room you first are resigned to stay in. You move in with a new friend of yours, an apparently refined gentleman who seems to have no shortage of money but still always forgets to bring it when he needs it, and you start to remember what living in peace feels like again.

You take a deep breath as you watch the bustle of the city from the open window of your bedroom. The cool evening breeze in Liyue Harbour is soothing, unlike the biting nightly winds of Snezhnaya. Perhaps you can finally let go of Ajax now, you think.

Somewhere in the heavens, Fate mocks your hopefulness.

Two years later, your friend, who has only become even worse at managing his money despite your constant nagging, invites you to a dinner with him and a new acquaintance he’d like to introduce you to. You agree, unsuspecting of the true identity of his so-called ‘friend’.

You take one step into the private room that Zhongli had booked and realise what a terrible mistake you’ve made when you see a familiar figure sitting at the table.

He doesn’t turn around at first, too occupied with trying to take a sip of his tea without burning his mouth. Zhongli smiles at you, painfully unaware of the amount of old trauma he’s inadvertently stirred up.

“I’m glad that you made it,” He says pleasantly, and gestures to the man sitting across from him. “This is the acquaintance I was telling you about. His name is Childe.”

There is a long silence. The initial shock of the moment wears off, only to be replaced by something resembling anger.

“So it’s Childe now, is it?” Ajax stiffens as he hears your voice come from behind him. “How many names does one man need?”

He turns around agonisingly slowly, failing to register the dangerous tilt of the teacup in his hands as it comes close to tipping its contents all over the table. You stare blankly back at him from the doorway.

How long has it been since he last saw you? He doesn’t know. Ever since the two of you had parted ways in that alleyway, you’d all but disappeared. The window to your bedroom had always been dark and empty when he stopped by your home, and neither you nor your parents were anywhere to be seen, no matter how thoroughly he’d searched the town. It had only been when Tonia had mentioned your absence in one of his letters that he’d realised that you weren’t just avoiding him. You’d left. Left the town where the two of you had grown up, left the home you’d lived in for so long, left behind all the friends you’d made over the years - just to run away from him.

There are new scars on your face, a new poise in the way you hold yourself. A sheathed dagger glitters at your belt, and even now you toy with its hilt in a way that tells him that you are familiar with it. You’ve changed so much, and he aches to think that he had been unable to see any of it.

He hadn’t wanted you to go, he never had. You’d always been his best friend, someone he looked up to, someone he enjoyed the company of, someone he cherished - someone he loved. But he’d had a duty to attend to, a new mistress to serve, a new title, a new responsibility. He couldn’t keep fooling himself into thinking he could keep the relationship he had with you forever.

That day in the alleyway - he’s never been able to forget the look on your face when you realised who he had become. It’s been burnt into his memory ever since then, flashing before his eyes just before he strikes, and even now, five years later, he still gets reprimanded by his fellow Harbingers for faltering just before he makes the kill. They always ask - how can Tartaglia, who takes pleasure in watching the life drain out of his opponent’s eyes after a battle well fought, hesitate like that?

He never has an answer for them.

Zhongli looks back and forth between the two of you, his brows knitting together slightly. “Do the two of you know each other already?”

“You could say that,” You reply, though your eyes don’t move even an inch from your old friend’s face. His expression is crumpled, almost vulnerable, a far cry from the stone-cold indifference he wore the last time you saw him.

“[Name],” He says finally, his voice barely above a whisper. “What… what are you doing here?”

You raise your eyebrows at him. “I’ve lived in Liyue Harbour for two years. Why wouldn’t I be here?”

Several seconds pass by with no response.

“It seems the two of you have much to talk about,” Zhongli observes, and gets to his feet. “I’ll leave you for now.”

He’s out of the room before either of you can object. Damn him and his perception.

You don’t sit down at the table. Instead, you move to the window, looking out over the city that you have come to love.

Ajax joins you. He hesitates as he approaches, as if debating whether or not to settle right beside you as he would have in the past. Eventually, though, he decides to keep his distance.

“Liyue is beautiful at night.” He says quietly. “Language is a nightmare to learn, though.”

That earns him a short laugh from you, and he can’t help the way his heart skips a beat as he hears it. “You can say that again. I don’t think I even have a proper grasp of it now.”

“You’re speaking pretty fluently,” He replies. “I’d say that’s a proper enough grasp.”

“It’s all just conversational, really.” You don’t look at him, instead choosing to look down at Xiangling, Xingqiu and Chongyun as they walk through the street below you together, exchanging jokes and nudges. “What about you?”

“I’d like to think I know it pretty well. I had to learn for—”

He cuts himself off, but you already know what he’d been about to say.

“For your Fatui duties here,” You finish for him, and though you don’t move, somehow he feels as if the gap between you has widened. “There’s no need for pretences, Childe.”

He freezes at the way you address him. It’s become familiar to him after using it as an alias for so long, but it sounds so wrong coming from you. It feels as if you’re distancing yourself from him, from the childhood you shared together. As if Ajax, your childhood friend, never existed - only Childe, the Fatui Harbinger.

“Don’t…” His voice breaks, and he forces himself to take a deep breath before continuing. “Don’t call me that.”

“Why not?” You sound so detached, so distant - and he hates it. “Would you prefer Tartaglia? That’s what you told me to call you last time we met.”

He feels as if you’ve stabbed him in the chest. It probably would’ve hurt less if you did, actually, but he knows he deserves it. “...no. I don’t want you to call me Tartaglia, either.”

You don’t respond, but he continues anyway. “I want… I want you to call me Ajax.”

Silence.

You finally turn to look at him, surprise painted on your features. “...what?”

Your eyes are just as he remembers them. He never wants to see them as they were on that day five years ago, filled with despair and tears that threatened to brim over.

He takes a deep breath and repeats, “I want you to call me Ajax.”

You stare at him for a long moment. Your face shifts, as if you can’t decide whether you want to be angry or sad or something else entirely. You open your mouth to say something, but at that moment the door opens again, and Zhongli pokes his head in.

“My apologies,” He says a little sheepishly, “But the attendant informed me that we should start ordering our dishes now if we don’t want to accidentally go over our time slot. That is - if you two are alright with having dinner with each other?”

You don’t respond immediately. Your eyes stay on the man gazing almost wistfully at you, your expression becoming thoughtful.

It’s been five years since you’ve last seen him. Five years of sleepless, tormented nights spent tossing and turning, of days spend exhausting yourself just so that you don’t think of him, of a journey filled with obstacles and monsters just to find a place to be at peace in, and just as you finally think you might be moving on, he shows up again.

Maybe you should be angry. Maybe you should be drawing your dagger and threatening him to stay the fuck away from your city and to take his Fatui agents with him. Maybe you should punch him right where it hurts most for all the pain he’s caused you.

But… you’re tired. You’re tired of hurting, tired of remembering. And maybe there’s a little part of you that hopes - a little part of you that still clings to the boy you played with on the streets of Morepesok, the boy that you lost the moment you let him leave on that journey.

And so you come to a conclusion.

“I’ll stay for dinner. What about you, Ajax?”

[galaxytastes]

Jumin’s Birthday

Hi! This is my first post and, rightfully so, it will be a “little” 10 page long “drabble”. It’s pretty self indulgent and non-romantic. I’m a sucker for angst and platonic affection, so buckle up, simps. Thank you so much for reading!

Words: 3033

TW: Alcohol, mention of death. 

CW: Spoilers for the secret endings/Saeyoung’s after end 

Jumin Han has always been a curious person when it came to commoner practices. Whether it be family traditions, silly superstitions, or childlike games; all of it intrigues the man like nothing else. Even as a child, despite his privileged and sheltered upbringing, Jumin still felt the temptation to explore the world of the common folk. And who better to experience the unknown than with his best friend? The two would often find themselves lost in their own world. A world without responsibility. A world without heirs, businessmen or conglomerates. A world where two boys could be just that; boys. 

But, life is not so simple. Summers and winters pass. With time came more responsibilities and adulthood pressures. Long felt the days of childhood; that which there was not much to begin with. Despite the challenges and tribulations life threw at the pair, one tradition remains unshaken by time. Birthdays.

Slender fingers wrap impatiently around his Rolex as Jumin checks the clock. He sighs in annoyance, noticing how quickly the day flew by. On most work days, the director can barely wait to get out the door. While he certainly didn’t dislike his office, he much preferred most anywhere else once the clock ticked past 6 pm. But today was different. Today was October 5th. 

The dark haired man pinches the skin between his eyes and only looks up from his desk upon hearing the familiar clicking of heels up his office hallway. Jaehee knocks gently at the door and peers in from around the corner. The woman has a concerned look in her warm eyes, but Jumin can’t begin to worry about what was the matter. 

“Yes, Assistant Kang. Have you come to bother me more about Saeyoung’s complaints over my lack of celebrations this evening?” Jumin speaks to his assistant, his voice icey cold. “I understand, Mr. Han. I… did come in here to talk about that, but not because of Saeyoung. It’s just… it’s 7 pm and you’re still here. It’s your birthday, and you say you have plans. I was wondering w-” “I’m well aware of what today is.” The director hisses as his hands clench together on the wood desk. He sucks in a quick breath and immediately backpedals, offering Jaehee an apologetic look. “Forgive me. I’ve been getting bothered about this day for… weeks now.” The director sighs and stands from the desk, making no move to hurry himself on gathering his things. 

“No need for apologies, sir. I completely understand. I’m sure you’ve heard enough pushing from the others.” Jaehee dismisses his coldness and grabs his jacket from the stand near the door. She meets him halfway across the room and gives his arm a comforting squeeze as she hands him the coat. 

“I think everyone just wants to share today with you since we truly care. So, if you change your mind, do let us know, please?” The brunette woman smiles sadly at her boss, earning her a weak smile from him in return. His heart warms a bit at her genuine words and he almost wishes to take her up on her offer. But, he made a promise to a friend for this evening. As always, Jumin Han is a man of his word. 

“I will. Thank you, Assistant Kang.”

The ride to the venue is quiet, and most of the time Jumin prefers it this way. His days are loud and chaotic, full of phone calls and stuffy conversations. His backseat oasis behind his trusty Driver Kim is normally a breath of fresh air. But, tonight, it feels suffocating. Both hands rake through his thick hair and he quietly wades in the painful silence. As if on cue, a voice perks up from the driver’s seat. “Mr. Han. I’ve prepared the supplies for your evening. I assume it will be to your liking?” Driver Kim meets Jumin’s unusually scrambled gaze, and the tightness in the director’s chest loosens just enough to allow him another deep breath. 

“I appreciate you, Driver Kim. I’m sure it looks beautiful.” Jumin nods gratefully to the older man. “Did you happen to retrieve the bottle I’d set aside for this evening?” 

“Of course. It’s wrapped in the basket along with some other things I thought would pair well with the wine. You have exquisite taste as always, Mr. Han.” The man’s eyes crinkle behind his glasses as he clicks his turn signal to pull to a stop. 

“Thank you again… Ah. We’re here already?” Jumin looks out the window, admiring the landscape lit beautifully by the setting sun. “Right on schedule. The sun will set the mood for a lovely birthday evening.” Driver Kim hums as he fishes something from his coat pocket. He turns in his chair and reaches to the backseat, holding a small box with a ribbon atop of it. “This one isn’t for you, young director. So, don’t go peeking until he gets to see it first.” Jumin chuckles and nods, gently taking the small box from the other man. The driver moves to let out his employer, but Jumin waves him dismissively. “We will not be too long. I’m not one to fuss over birthday celebrations.” The director smooths out his suit jacket and pant legs before opening up the car door. “I know, Mr. Han. Take all the time you need. Tell him I say hello, and happy belated birthday.” Driver Kim keeps his gaze on the horizon ahead of him, wetness stinging the old man’s eyes. Jumin actively ignores the sudden show of emotion and uses his free hand to shut the door. 

Tiny lights sparkle along the trail up through the finely landscaped hill, leading Jumin directly to his destination. Clammy hands hold onto the tiny gift tightly as he continues along the rocky trail. Once he reaches the top, he strays from the path to greet his friend. His chest storms with emotion and dark eyes widen as he counts each step. One. Two. Three. Four. Five. His breath sounds too loud in his ears, and he’s sure his heart is beating much too fast. Suddenly, he wishes to be anywhere but here. Anywhere but anywhere. But, Jumin Han is a man of his word. Six. Seven. Eight. Nine. Oxfords continue to pad across the grass and eventually come to a slow stop. “Ten.” Jumin breathes aloud. “Hello, old friend.”

Jumin’s mouth remains open as he goes to continue greeting the other before he takes a moment to take in his surroundings. A checkered blanket, red and white, is delicately laid out in the plush, green grass. A picnic basket brimming with all sorts of delicacies is centered on the blanket, along with another smaller basket, cushioning two crystal glasses. Candles flicker over petals of flowers, casting a glow to compete with the setting sun. “It’s like something from a film. This is…” Jumin lets out a breathless laugh as he eases himself onto the blanket. “This is beautiful.”

Jumin wastes no time in exploring the basket prepared for the two. The smile never leaves his lips as he pushes past fine cheeses, chocolates and a beautifully decorated cake. He lets out a little “ah-ha” upon finding the thing both men would enjoy more than anything. “Now, this is more like it, hm?” Jumin wriggles out the vintage bottle, holding it up for the both of them to admire. “Henschke, Hill of Grace, Shiraz. 1994, if I recall correctly? Australians know their reds.” With a skillful hand, Jumin uncorks the bottle and pours the red liquid into the fine crystal glasses. The aroma of the wine fills the evening air between them, and for a moment, Jumin feels lighter. The weight of the day melts away in the twilight’s embrace. Perhaps birthdays can just be birthdays. Jumin muses to himself as he wraps his fingers around the stem of the glass. He scoots slowly across the blanket to hand the drink to the other man. Perhaps it is alright for him to enjoy himself this way. The crystal is set down with great care onto the stone and Jumin uses the wrist of his jacket to smudge away any thumb prints he may have left. His vision blurs as he clinks the glasses together. The sound is familiar, but in a very different way now. Lonely.

The other glass is still. No hand reaches to join him in the toast. No voice returns his greeting. No smile returns his grin. Jumin’s black eyes blink and he swallows back the pain that threatens to lurch from his stomach. He raises his drink between himself and the headstone and tosses back the entire glassful. The wine burns his throat and he is grateful for the pain. 

“Happy belated birthday, V. And, as you would surely remind me. ‘Oh, it’s your birthday. Quit pretending it's not, Jumin.’” The man’s voice cracks a bit and he clears his throat. Please, keep it together. He wills himself to hold on as he continues. “I don’t care much for my birthday. But, I promised you I would make time for my birthday if it meant I could celebrate yours.” 

For the next few minutes, Jumin forces small talk with the stone. He talks of work. He talks of Elizabeth. He reaches desperately into the backs of his mind to talk about every nonsensical thing he could imagine, avoiding the things he wishes to scream out. 

“Ah. I should update you on how the RFA is doing.” Jumin leans back on his elbows, horizontal with his friend’s grave. He looks up at the stars, allowing himself to instead imagine V there next to him; laying on his side as he listens to Jumin in attentive silence. The thought warms his cheeks and his heart. “Assistant Kang has been especially… gentle since the incident. Even Zen has begun showing me a side to him I never expected. He’s… kind. Yoosung, on the other hand… He has matured in a way I was not expecting. He misses you…” Jumin clears his throat once more before he continues. “Saeyoung and Saeran are doing very well. Both of them speak of you often. The twins and MC live together, all under one roof, as you always wished for. You’d be so proud, V.” Jumin shakily inhales as his lips tremble around his fourth glass. The tears that well in his eyes finally spill over onto his pale cheeks as he finishes off another drink.

So many things are left unsaid. So many angry, sad and desperate questions of why and how. Jumin sets the glass down and sits up, pushing his hand against his mouth to muffle the sob that escapes him. He should be here, pulling the glass from me, telling me I’ve had enough. He should be here to slug my arm around his shoulder. He should be here. No one but him should be here. Why, V? Why did you leave? The silence is louder than ever as Jumin attempts to calm himself down with a deep breath, using the back of his sleeve to wipe his cheeks. While the pain still clings to every inch of the man’s body like a bed of nails, Jumin swallows it back to properly finish his evening. “I almost forgot. Driver Kim wishes for me to give you this belated birthday gift. On my birthday, of all days.” Jumin sniffles with a smile as he fishes out the small box to set down on the memorial stone. He carefully unwraps the brightly colored ribbon and wriggles open the box. “Here, I will open it for you. Driver Kim has excellent taste in gifts. Perhaps it is a matching cufflink to my own. They’re designer, you know. And-” Jumin’s voice catches in his throat as the top of the box pops open. Cushioned inside a bed of white tissue paper is a small photo frame; no bigger than the palm of his hand. In the frame stares back two boys wearing birthday hats in front of a cake. Happy birthday, J & J is written across the cake in cursive writing. Jumin bites the inside of his cheek as a final tear escapes from him. The boys look like complete strangers. Both so innocent; so unaware of what the future will hold for them. Young Jihyun’s eyes are crinkled in a smile and his toothy grin takes up nearly half his face. Young Jumin smiles just as wide, but his eyes are wide open and looking directly at his friend. Cheeks flushed red, black and teal hair a complete tangled mess. They were happy. “We’ve changed, but not much. I loved you then, and I love you now.” Jumin whispers to V as he carefully sets down the frame along with all the other flowers and trinkets left scattered around the grave. His hand traces across the name etched into the stone slab and he uses the other hand to finish the wine directly from the bottle. “‘Happy birthday, Jumin.’” The director whispers into the lips of the bottle as he drains the last drops. 

The car ride home is quiet. Driver Kim helps a drunken Jumin into the car, taking no time at all to clean up the picnic and wine glasses. The shared silence between the two men is comfortable and calm. No words are shared with the driver and the director. Driver Kim simply hands the man a handkerchief and drives him back to his penthouse. 

Jumin’s eyes sting from the tears and his legs stumble as he steps from the car. He quietly thanks his driver who helps him up to the penthouse and fumbles with the keypad to unlock the door. Jumin exhales into the quiet room, letting the darkness consume him. His hand comes to rest on the center of his chest, and he takes a moment to appreciate the lighter feeling in his torso. The pain is less like broken glass now, more like the remnants of a broken mirror. The sharp and painful pieces have been removed, leaving the frame of what once was. It’s obvious something shattered the mirror, and a few bits of glass are left behind. But, the danger of the pain has been cleared away. 

“Shhh. Don’t yell, you’ll scare him. He looks sleepy.” A voice whispers from the kitchen. “How about you shut up and say surprise like we practiced? We’ve been here for an hour now, my legs hurt from squatting.” Another deeper voice grumbles in reply. 

“Hm?” Jumin drunkenly stumbles further into his seemingly empty penthouse as his tired eyes scan the dark room. 

“Can everyone at least attempt to remain quiet?” Another softer voice sighs.

“Saeyoung, this was a stupid idea. Put his cat down.” A voice exclaims, accompanied by a smack and a familiar yelp. 

“Hey! That’s my job!” A woman giggles and another smack echoes through the penthouse.

“Well, now I feel left out.” A man’s voice speaks, adding on another, more intense smack sound. “GAH! Okay, okay. Princess, we’ll catch up later. Go see your daddy. He needs a birthday hug.” This voice, he recognizes immediately, and his eyes fly wide open as he reaches for the light switch. “Saeyoung?! What?!” Jumin shouts as he squints into the bright light. 

“Wah! SURPRISE!” “Hehe! Surprise, Jumin!” Saeyoung and MC screech, dressed to impress, both sporting white cat ears and paws. “Surprise, Jumin!!  Woo-hoo!” Yoosung pops up from behind the counter, tossing an armful of balloons into the air. 

“Jesus. Well, surprise, trust-fund-kid.” Zen leans from around the sofa, smiling sheepishly at the other man. “Sorry about all this.” The albino laughs and rubs the back of his neck. 

“I was dragged here without my consent. Do not blame me for the home invasion.” Vanderwood growls from next to MC, winning another giggle from the girl and her fiancé.

“Surprise, Jumin Han. I apologize for my brother breaking into your home.” Saeran smiles, shoving his twin away from the white cat as she scuttles to her owner’s side. “Though, I may have helped a little.” Jumin leans down to wrap Elizabeth in his arms as his mouth hangs open in shock. Each face looks back, expectantly and worried. 

“Is he okay?” Yoosung whines, slowly inching closer to Jumin as his eyes dart from person to person. “Is he having a heart attack?!” “Yes.” Saeyoung says confidently, his cat paws resting on his hips. MC nods with him, looking to Yoosung with mock concern. 

“No.” Saeran, Vanderwood and Jaehee reply in a harmony, sharing looks of annoyance. “I know you wanted to be alone after your evening with him but…” Jaehee stood from behind a chair, offering an apologetic smile. “No.” Jumin interrupts her, shaking his head in disbelief. 

Each member of the RFA continues to stare at the man as he wobbles and before anyone can say a word, the director sets his princess down and lurches forward.

With arms wide open, he embraces his friends. With no reservations, no walls of emotions, no tightly wound strings. He holds his friends and finally inhales a full breath of air as each friend wraps their arms back around him. 

Sure, he’s drunk. Very drunk. Sure, he will regret and deny everything tomorrow morning. But tonight, Jumin will laugh with his friends. He will laugh till he cries, indulge in birthday cake, glare as the redheaded twins crown him with matching cat ears. He will open silly and thoughtful gifts and read cheesy and stupid birthday cards. He will refuse to sing karaoke, but instead watch and clap along as Zen and Saeran have a battle of the bands moment. Jumin smiles and laughs to himself, feeling an unseen hand wrap around his shoulders. He closes his eyes and pictures V there, smiling along with him. “Thank you for allowing yourself to enjoy today,” he would probably whisper to his friend. “You deserve this.” Jumin allows himself to believe his friend’s memory. This is what he would have wanted. “Happy birthday, Jumin!!” The RFA cheers together as the song comes to an end, the room lit by smiles and camera flashes. 

And a happy birthday it was, indeed. 

[unnecessarywriting]

Only You - Fred Weasley

Request: may I humbly request a Christmas at the Burrow with your crush, Fred Weasley, who sometime during the holiday admits his feelings for you??

A/N: Thank you for the request. I had a lot of fun writing it. I hope you like it!

Only You 

George had a plan. His plan? Well, it was to push Fred to you. Yes, he wanted to see his brother happy, but more than anything, he wanted to put an end to his own suffering. For months it was Y/N this and Y/N that. If he was being honest, he was close to hexing his brother, but he would rather initiate his plan. What was it? It’s quite simple really.

“Fred, let’s place a bet.”

“Alright, I’m in. On what?”

“Y/N of course.”

“No way. Not gonna happen.” “Too late now. I bet 10 galleons that you’re not going to confess to her over this break.” Fred paused for a moment and thought. He could win the girl of his dreams and 10 galleons in one go. Fred hates to lose.

“You’re on!” George smiled. He knows his twin. Fred hates to back down from a bet. He also hates to lose.

 The Burrow was booming from the moment you arrived. Harry and Ron went to eat, the twins started planning pranks, Molly was yelling at her children, Ginny was talking about Harry, and you were observing the family. Although it could be a bit chaotic, you were always happy to have a place there. You caught Fred from the corner of your eye. He was looking particularly good. His hair fell perfectly, and his shirt was fitting for his form. You were especially happy to spend the holiday around him. He was someone who always made your heart beat just a little faster. Ginny was aware of your crush on her brother, and she completely supported it. She already saw you as the older sister she never had, and she would have loved to call you her sister for real. She often encouraged you to just go after him, but you were not the type to throw away a perfectly good friendship because you developed romantic feelings. 

The first day at the Burrow went by in a blur. You were focused on getting yourself situated in Ginny’s room, and eating the delicious meals that Molly offered. The following day, however, was filled with fun activities, courtesy of the twins. George in particular was pushing for you to join in everything they were doing. The day started with a friendly quidditch match. You played as a chaser on Fred’s team. He spent a considerable amount of time by your side. Oftentimes, you weren’t even paying attention to the match. He would tell dumb jokes, and you would indulge him by offering honest laughter.

After the match, which you lost due to being a bit distracted, you enjoyed lunch. The whole time, Fred seemed unusually distant. He sat far away from you, and ignored your attempts to talk to him. You were completely confused with the complete 180 he pulled. At Molly’s request, you and the rest of the group decided to go for a walk out in the cold. She wanted you all out of the house, and Ginny suggested enjoying the snow outside. You were getting a jacket when you passed by the twins.

“Are you already quitting?”

“No, I just needed some time to gather my thoughts.”

“I think you meant emotions brother. You better get yourself together, or I’m going to be richer.” George chuckled. You were confused but passed it off as nothing. 

Fred followed behind you and Ginny. He was struggling to get the nerve to confess to you. It had nothing to do with the bet. You were one of the greatest people to ever enter his life, and he didn’t want to ruin anything between the two of you. He also knew that he owed it to himself to tell you the truth. In his eyes, you were the most gorgeous woman he had ever seen. Your smile brightened up his day, and your laugh filled him with warmth. He was falling in love with you, and now he needed to find a way to tell you. Earlier, you had been so happy around him, and he panicked. What if you were just being friendly? You two are friends, so that would make sense. He wanted to tell you right then, but he couldn’t get the words out of his mouth. Gee, the pranking king himself was actually getting nervous? You were the only person who could do that to him. 

His thoughts were soon interrupted by a snowball hitting the side of his head. He heard your giggle and instantly knew that you were behind it. Soon, a full blown snowball fight was breaking out. You had hidden yourself behind a poorly made snow fort, and you were throwing snowballs in every direction. Fred saw this and made his move. He got behind your fort and shoved some snow into your jacket. You yelped at the sudden cold and turned around to face the culprit. “Fred!” you whined.

“Y/N!” he mocked back. You playfully smacked him and tried to shimmy the ice out of your coat.

He gushed at the sight of your bright red cheeks and your slightly blue lips. You were adorable. He was ready to kiss you right then and there, but his mother called out to tell the kids that dinner was ready. Disappointed wasn’t a strong enough word to describe how he felt in that moment. Eventually, the day came to a close. You sat up in your bed and thought about Fred. He was overly affectionate the whole day, minus during lunch. You thought a bit more about it, but realized that you would only be getting your hopes up. Eventually, you went to sleep with thoughts of the older ginger twin on your brain. 

The next morning, you ate breakfast and began to help Molly with decorating the house. You lost sight of the twins throughout the day. Your tasks were different, which meant that you hardly got to spend any time around Fred. A part of you thought that it was a positive thing, so that you could prevent yourself from thinking about what it would be like to be with him. Fred, however, was angry. He wanted to have tasks with you so he could finally make a move on you, but his mother was blocking him. 

When you had all concluded your tasks, you decided that you would take some time to yourself and catch up a bit on some reading. You got comfortable on the couch, and you began to read. You were so immersed that you missed the other body that appeared on the couch. He picked up your legs and placed them on his own.

“What are you reading?”

“A muggle book.”

“What’s it about?”

“Well that’s what I’m trying to figure out, hence the reason why I’m reading it.” He shyly laughed at your answer. He stayed silent for a while longer. He just watched you concentrate on the words that your eyes crossed over. Sometimes, he would see you smirk a bit. You were absolutely perfect. He watched as your eyebrows would raise occasionally, or your eyes would slightly gloss over when you forgot that blinking was necessary. You were his own goddess, and he wanted nothing more than to worship you. 

It was Christmas Eve when he made a fatal mistake. He got in trouble with his mother. He’s not sure exactly what happened, but he instantly regretted it. He had decided that there was nothing more romantic than a confession on Christmas Eve. He planned to sit by the fire with you. He was going to look into your eyes and tell you everything. If things worked out, then he was going to bring in the trusty mistletoe to seal the deal. Alas, he ruined his chances by picking a fight with his mother. She had enchanted the garden to be protected from the snowfall, which meant that the gnomes were pleasantly inhabiting the area. He was now going to have to spend hours throwing the buggers before he could return inside. He was heartbroken, but he thought that this was a sign. Clearly, the universe didn’t want you two together. 

You were surprised when Fred was nowhere in the house. You asked George where he was. He told you everything that happened. You instantly felt terrible for him. It was cold outside, plus the job was tortuous. You decided that the least you could do was help him, of course without Molly knowing. You snuck outside and saw him angrily throwing gnomes. You giggled at his pained expression. He really was not happy. You also thought this was the best time to get him back for all of the pranks he had been pulling. You crept up behind him and grabbed at his sides abruptly. He jumped and looked back at you in anger until he saw that it was you.

“What are you doing out here?”

“Secretly, I’m helping you. You’re welcome.” You smiled proudly at him. Then you grabbed one of the gnomes and swung him as far as you could. Fred was speechless. He just watched you, amazed at how perfect you are. He finally caught wind of his situation, and began throwing the gnomes again. After some time, he stopped and looked over at you.

“Hey Y/N can I talk to you abo-OUCH” he belted. You snapped your head in his direction to see what was wrong. You saw one of the gnomes with their teeth latched onto Fred’s ankle. Your worry faded almost instantly. You began to laugh uncontrollably. He just looked at you, annoyed by the fact that you were finding humor in his pain. He threw the gnome with all of his might. A couple of minutes past, but you still hadn’t stopped laughing. He eventually began to cave, and he started laughing as well. It was stupid but you apparently thought it was the funniest thing to happen. 

“I can’t believe you found that funny. Is my pain really that comedic?” He feigned sadness. 

“I’m sorry Fred, but you have to admit, that was hysterical. Only you would be bitten by a gnome.”

“You Y/N Y/L/N are absolutely ridiculous. It’s one of the many reasons I love you,” he said while chuckling. See, this is one of those moments where Fred didn’t actually comprehend the words that came out of his mouth. He only became aware when you went completely silent.

“You love me?” you asked shyly. 

“Uh, yeah. You know what Y/N? I am so in love with you. I have been for awhile now, but I didn’t know how to tell you. Just please, don’t let my feelings ruin us.”

“Fred. Stop. I love you too. How could I not? You’re smart, funny, kind, and you’re easy on the eyes. I just never thought that you would see me as anything more than a friend.”

“Please, let me kiss you.” He was desperate to be as close to you as possible.

“What are you waiting for?” You smirked at him. He pulled you into a kiss full of passion. It told you everything he wanted to say. Fred pulled away from you first, although not by choice.

“Son of a-” He was yelling. Your confusion disappeared as you peaked down. 

You started laughing again at the sight of another gnome, this time on the other ankle.

“Only you, Frederick Gideon Weasley, would be bitten by two gnomes in one night.”

By the time you two had finished with the garden, it was time to go to bed. Both of you exhausted. Lucky for the both of you, George and Ginny had already fallen asleep so you wouldn’t have to deal with their interrogation. In the morning, however, George was met with a very happy brother.

“You, my dear brother, owe me 10 galleons.” George was astonished. He was worried that his twin wasn’t going to do it. When you walked down the stairs, Fred pulled you in for a kiss, almost as if to prove his point. George handed over the galleons.

“This, my dear, is going towards our first real date.” You smiled and agreed, giddy at the thought of finally going on a date with Fred. Ginny caught the end of this conversation and gasped.

“Is this a Christmas miracle, or am I dreaming. Y/N, you need to tell me everything right this instant!” You pouted slightly at Fred as his little sister dragged you away for all of the juicy details.

[inkandpen22]

Permanent Chaos (4/?)

Pairing: MGK x Female!Reader

Word Count: 4k

Warnings: mild swearing, mentions of underage drinking 

Part Summary: Sam hosts a party and Y/N makes a not-so-great acquaintance of a certain rock star.

Masterlist

Sam’s house is filled with people. I know the majority of the partiers, the rest I can recognize from whatever field of entertainment they’re in. The music is blasting over the speakers and the voices fill the remaining space.

I search around for him. I manage to find him in the family room on the couch. He’s chatting with a group of people, including Penelope. I make my way over, shuffling between bodies. When I appear out from within the crowd, Sam gleams.

“You made it!”

“I did!” I giggle.

We hug and he introduces me to the girl beside him. “Y/N, this is Cara.”

As if I don't know who Cara Delevigne is, I may be busy but I don't live on Mars. I smile at her kindly. “Nice to meet you!”

“You too! I’m a huge fan of your work on TSL!” She gushes, giving my hand a gentle squeeze.

The Seasons of Life is often shortened to TSL, just a side note.

Cara’s accent is so pretty! She’s already a model then she has to have a British accent as if she wasn’t perfect enough!

“Aw, thank you so much!”

Sam slips by me. “I’m going to go get us a drink!”

"Oh wait, Sam!"

“I know what to do!” He shouts back without stopping. I should know better. With how much time we spend together, he would know my order.

“That kid,” I sigh to Penelope and Cara.

The two giggle and we go on to talk about this and that. Fun enough, Cara leaves for Paris tomorrow for a fashion show. Must be exciting to travel so often and to wear the most amazing clothes. She’s quite funny. Her personality is so vibrant and warm. I can see us being good friends.

A loud voice echoes through the house and the three of us look toward the archway to see who it’s coming from. Bodies block the view so I turn my attention back to the girls. Penelope and I discuss the photoshoot in two days and Cara talks about her experiences with Vanity Fair.

“Hey, Cara!” A voice greets behind me.

I don't turn around, but I can feel their energy hovering over me. They shuffle to stand right beside me. I glance up, but can't recognize them.

Cara stands up to hug them. “Good to see you! How are you?” She keeps him in an embrace.

“Great, great!” The guy, who’s back is to me for some reason seems familiar. I can’t quite put my finger on it.

“You know Sam?” She questions as they part.

“Not really, I came with a few friends.”

I look over at Penelope for a hint as to who it could be. She shrugs and watches the two interact.

“Speaking of, have you seen him? I should say hi.” The man asks.

“He went to the kitchen to get a drink for him and Y/N.”

The man turns around and he peers down at me on the couch. I should’ve guessed it… MGK. The hair and a million tattoos should've been a dead giveaway. That bright blonde mess of a hairstyle.

“Colson, this is Y/N Voss,” Cara introduces us.

He glances down at me with a smile. “We’ve met actually,” he claims.

My head tilts, I can’t recall when we've met properly.

“Today after I performed on James’s show,” he describes, towering over me.

“Oh! Awesome!” Cara sits back down next to me.

All I can do is stare at Colson in confusion. “If you count glancing at one another from across the room once as meeting,” I reply a bit snarky.

He gives me a toothy grin and eases down onto the cushion ottoman right across from me. “It was more than one glance,” he argues.

“You would know, you’re the one that never looked away," I fire back.

Cara and Penelope exchange a glance, snicker, then leave the scene together. They offer their goodbye before giggling away. They're smart.

Colson seems to have not noticed or at least doesn’t care. He moves to take Cara's spot on the cushion next to me. “You would’ve had to been looking to have noticed that I never looked away.”

My head rolls back, with a mocking laugh. “Well aren’t you a genius!”

He rests his arm on the back of the couch behind me. “I like to think so.”

“One vodka tonic.” Sam interrupts, holding out my drink.

I take it bitterly. "Thanks."

“Sam huh?” Colson stands up and the two shake hands. “I’m Colson, nice to officially meet you, man!”

Sam treats him like an old friend which annoys the heck out of me. Colson so far has only shown his arrogance to me. “You too! Great seeing you today at the show. Your performance was amazing.”

“Thanks, your interview was hilarious!” Colson fakes charming better than some actors.

“You watched?” Sam asks.

“Yeah, I stuck around just off-camera. You two are great!”

Watching these two talk each other up is a bromance waiting to happen.

Sam gestures to me with his glass. “Y/N here is the real comedian. There’s never a dull moment with her."

“I'm sure.” Colson peers down at me with a bright smile. "We’ve only just met and she’s already sparked a debate with me.”

I narrow my eyes at Colson, what’s he trying to start?

Sam settles down on the ottoman where Colson was. “What about?” He is all for the conversation and is jumping headfirst into the tiff between us.

Colson smiles but I see the mischief in his eyes.

“It wasn’t a debate” I rise to my feet in front of the boys. “If you would excuse.” I step away from the couch a little irked.

“Oh come on now Baby, I’m only joking,” Colson calls not bothered.

“Oh no,” Sam laughs behind me. “Best not call her that or any pet names for that matter. She hates them!”

I don’t even acknowledge them on my walk out of the room. Cocky, annoying, ugh! It’s been maybe five minutes and he’s already managed to irritate me. Maybe all the things they write in the tabloids about him are true. A spoiled, arrogant, womanizing jerk. A piece of the worst parts of the industry. I'm going to go find the girls and stay far away from Colson Baker.

________________________________________

On the set of the Vanity Fair shoot, the atmosphere is lively and carefree. The theme is an 80’s vintage style and since it’s coming back the magazine is mixing old with the new. Sam and I are in an old-fashioned record store and it’s wicked! The walls are teal and remind me of an old Taco Bell. There are rows and rows of just vinyl records. My hair is teased in an 80’s rock band kind of hairstyle. 80s music has been playing on set all morning to set the mood. I'm living for it!

A lady approaches me with a huge light wash denim jacket.

“No way! I get to wear this!” I gush.

She helps me put it on and I’m dying from how awesome this shoot is.

I immediately go to Sam's trailer. “Sam! I’m rocking the denim on denim look!” I show off my high-waisted light wash denim shorts with a black bulky leather belt around my waist.

He laughs. “I appreciate the denim on denim but I have to say my favorite part is the old Bon Jovi T.”

The photographer, Adam, comes up with this brilliant idea for me to stand on the crates of records. Where the two rows in the middle of the store meet, there’s enough room for me to stand. Once I’m up there and I can find the balance in these red heels, they have Sam join me.

“Sam, grab her leg and look up at her as though you’re keeping an eye on her,” Adam instructs.

The camera flashes and between snaps, I change my facial features.

“Good! Good! Let’s get some shots from the counter!”

Sam helps me down from the crates and I hop down. We get a shot of me laying across the counter with a red sucker in my hand and Sam hovering over me. This shoot is incredibly fun and I can’t wait to see the finished product.

Sam and I change outfits and Adam asks if he can get a video for the website and YouTube channel. Of course, we said yes. It’ll be a montage of an interview of us individually and then of us just messing around throughout the store with 80’s music playing in the background. Adam has me sit on an 80’s style floral couch they set up in front of a backdrop in the back room. The whole setup is very comfortable and intimate. Only us, a few lights and a camera with the radio playing. Sam is in makeup and dress for the part of the video of us being candid.

“You can sit however you like!” Adam instructs, meaning I’m sitting too formal with my posture straight and legs crossed. “Act like we’re just hanging out or something.”

I adjust myself and crisscross my legs, slouching a bit.

“Much better!” he compliments, staring down at the camera. He hits up on a stool and positions his camera on the stand. “What’s it like to be on the cover of Vanity Fair?”

“The whole experience is unreal! I remember having a subscription to Teen Vogue growing up. My friends and I loved them!”

“Would you describe your style as modern or classic?”

“Classic for sure!” I gush.

Adam snickers. “What’s your favorite decade for fashion?”

I laugh and gesture down at my outfit. “The 80’s.”

“Does anyone from the 80’s inspire your style in particular?”

I tap the tips of my fingers together and hum. “That’s a toughy! I guess I would have to say Demi Moore for the hair. Specifically, her haircut from About Last Night… that’s where I got the style for my hair actually. Another big one would be Cindy Crawford, such a fashion icon!” I could talk about fashion all day and the icons idolize.

“Heels or sneakers?”

“Depends on the occasion. Sneakers for everyday things, I could never live without my trusty Converse. Yet, I would wear heels if I’m dressing it up a bit.”

"Are you more of a girly-girl or tomboy?”

“People who know me well would say I’m a girly-girl but I also don’t mind downplaying it from time to time. I’ve gotten better lately at relaxing and no being so “on” all the time.”

“Hair up or down?”

“Half up, half down,” I wiggle my eyebrows playfully looking into the camera.

Adam chuckles behind the camera. He changes topics. “You’re from South Carolina originally...”

My heart sinks a little at the mention of home, but I hide behind a smile. “That I am.”

“You haven’t been back in almost a year, do you miss it?”

I play with the ends of my hair, examining my lap. Avoiding the camera lens. I look at anywhere but there. “If I were to miss anything about South Carolina, it would be the gorgeous landscape and southern food."

“You have three siblings, correct?” Adam asks next.

“I do, an older brother and sister, then a younger brother.” I list.

“What do they think about the show and your career?”

I nod. “They support me but the distance is hard. As you said, we haven’t all been together in almost a year.”

“Do you have any plans to go visit home soon?”

I sigh, “sadly no, my work keeps me quite busy.”

The interview goes on and we discuss how my style has evolved since I was a teen starting out in the business. I’ll admit, the topics about home and family sucked. Work and personal life are two separate jobs, my worlds can’t collide. I never bring South Carolina into it.

______________________________________________

After the shoot, I received a call from Cara when we were finishing up the photoshoot. Last night, Cara, Penelope, and I had a blast! I completely forgot about the whole tiff with Colson once I reached them in the kitchen. Since then, we’ve been three peas in a pod. While we were talking on the phone, she invited Sam and me to dinner at The Ivy.

“A small gathering of friends,” she told me and asked for us to be there by seven.

Jump ahead to now and Sam is parallel parking the car. I hop out and wait on the sidewalk for Sam to walk around. Our hands' interlock and the paparazzi take notice of us when people on the sidewalk pull out their phones.

“Y/N! SAM! SAM! OVER HERE!”

“HOW’S FILMING GOING?”

“It’s good to be back on set!” I cover my eyes with my clutch.

“YOUR INTERVIEW WITH JAMES CORDEN WAS GREAT!”

“SOCIAL BLEW UP AFTER THE INTERVIEW!”

Sam asks for the guys to make a path so we can get through without issues. He releases my hand and presses his palm to my lower back protectively.

“WE’VE ALREADY SEEN Cara AND PENELOPE GO IN!”

“A FEW PEOPLE ACTUALLY!”

“ARE YOU ALL MEETING UP?”

“Maybe, maybe not!” I look into one of the video cameras and wink.

The guy behind it gets a hoot out of my expression.

Sam and I reach the restaurant and the men let us go in unbothered.

“WE’LL LEAVE YOU ALONE TO YOUR DINNER!”

“Thanks guys, see you later!” I wave to them and their cameras shoot rapidly.

The noise dies down when we go back further into the restaurant. Sam spots Cara in the back and guides me back there. Tables are lined up in a long row and the majority of the seats are filled.

Cara, cool as a cucumber pulls me into a hug. “Hey Y/N! So glad you two could come!” She sits Sam and me across from each other near the middle. She insisted that I sit by her so we could chat. We get to talking about the Vanity Fair shoot today then she’s pulled away when another guest arrives.

The waitress comes up behind me and requests my drink order.

“I’ll have a sweet tea please.”

“We only serve unsweetened.”

I hate it when they say that. “That’s fine, thank you!” Sam eyes me and I pout about having no sweet tea.

“You realize there’s sugar right here.” He slides me the packets of sugar.

“Yes but it’s not the same. There’s sweet tea at every restaurant where I’m from and I come here boom! Sweet tea is nonexistent!”

"What’s the drink that’s carbonated?” He’s asking to be annoying because the west coast and the midwest disagree on the name.

“Pop!” I glare at him.

“That’s right! Pop! Sounds like you’re saying pot every time.” He laughs at his own joke, finding himself humorous.

“It’s soda by the way," he corrects.

“Uh uh,” I refuse to change my ways, “it’s pop.”

The empty chair next to me slides back and when I glance up to see who’s doing it, an instant headache hits my brain.

Sam greets Colson warmly with a handshake. I shoot Sam another glare. He’s acting neutral but that shouldn’t be a choice in this case. He was my friend first!

Colson removes black Ray-Bans from his face and positions them on top of his head.

“Hello Y/N.” Colson sends me one of his charming grins so many teen girls swoon over.

“Hi,” I reply, not attempting to hide my disinterest. I curve my body away from him and towards Cara, legitly giving him the cold shoulder.

The dinner goes on without a hitch surprisingly, considering the circumstances. Penelope leans down over the back of my chair to say our goodbyes.

I turn around in my chair to face her. “See ya tomorrow.”

“See ya,” she rubs her hand up and down my arm.

She and I exchange kisses on the cheek. “Love you!” We say in unison as we part.

“Later Sam!” She wiggles her fingers at him in a wave.

Sam and I stick around a while longer since Cara and I have gotten into a deep conversation about our shared love for vintage things. A conversation about our collections of records alone went on for twenty minutes. I hadn't noticed that it was just four of us now. Sam and Colson have been talking most of the dinner.

A pair of hands rest on my shoulders and steal my attention away from Cara. “Y/N, you ready to go?” Sam asks.

“We’ll head out too!” Cara announces with her sights directed behind me.

I look over my shoulder and Colson is standing beside Sam. The four of us walking out together… how convenient.

I grab my clutch, sticking close to Sam to dodge Colson.

The four of us walk toward the front of the restaurant and right when we reach the steps leading outside, Cara announces that she forgot her purse.

“I’ll be right back!” She urges us to go on without her.

The cameras waited for us as I assumed they would. They’re capturing every minute of us waiting for Cara.

I place my hand on Sam’s shoulder, “would you go help her?”

“You sure?” His eyes flicker between me and Colson.

“I’ll be fine,” I assure him and he promises he’ll only be a second.

“Go to the car so you aren’t bothered,” he refers to the paparazzi.

“I’ll walk her,” Colson offers.

Sam gives him the go-ahead as he goes off to help in the search for the purse.

I’m left with the one guy I was avoiding. I grip the keys in my hand and walk down the brick steps to the sidewalk. I hear Colson behind me and stop to address him. “I can walk myself to the car.”

He raises his arms mocking a surrender. “I don’t doubt your ability to walk, just helping out.”

“I don’t need your help,” I scoff, starting to walk again.

“I never said you did,” Colson sassily replies.

*Click* *Click* *Click*

A man runs around me to get a photo of me straight on.

“Y/N! Y/N! WALKING IN WITH SAM AND LEAVING WITH MGK, ANY EXPLANATION?”

I pause for a moment, making eye contact with the man behind the camera. Is he honestly trying to start drama? What lies are he going to sell? I’m only going to the car because Sam requested. The only reason Colson is even near me is that he’s so freaking persistent.

I push back the aggravation and force my lips into a kind smile. I can’t have a single moment of weakness. I can’t give in to my emotions like others. “Sam is helping Cara with something inside. Colson was kind enough to walk me to the car.”

“HOW LONG HAVE YOU GUYS KNOWN EACH OTHER?”

I purposefully answer quickly so Colson doesn’t even have the chance to think of a response. “Not long, we met the other day backstage at The Late Late Show. We have a lot of the same friends and had no idea!” I peek over at Colson and he gives me a knowing look. I dismiss it and go on with my charade. I will not let this jerk mess with my career.

“ANY CHANCE OF HAVING COLSON GUEST STAR ON THE SHOW?”

“That would be great!” I lie my butt off, “having more friends on set would be fun!”

“COLSON, HOW’S YOUR NEW ALBUM COMING ALONG?!”

“We’re in the recording stage right now. Should be released sometime this summer," he answers.

“FOLLOWING UP WITH A TOUR?”

“Of course!” he chuckles.

I unlock the car and move around the guys to reach the door.

“WE’LL LET YOU GUYS GO ON. ENJOY THE REST OF YOUR NIGHT!” One of them departs.

“Thank you! You too!” I wave goodbye.

Some stick behind to get a few last pictures but for the most part, they all disburse. The ones remaining, however, keep their distance.

I yank on the handle of the door and Colson holds it for me. As if he's a gentleman. I begin to climb in, prepared to yank it shut in his face.

“Friends huh?” Colson chuckles.

I turn around abruptly and check around the general area of the sidewalk for any cameras. Seems the remainder of the guys have left. I shut the door and Colson removes his hand in a rush.

“No, not friends! I only said that to please the public," I huff.

“Ouch!” he acts offended, placing his hand on his heart. “I did find it interesting that you claimed we met backstage the other day so I was right!” He chuckles, believing he caught me.

“No, no, no, no!" I shut that thought down quickly. "The only reason I made that up was that it’s not good for my image if I admit I was at a party. People tend to assume that heavy drinking and drugs occur at parties. I can’t be associate with that scene!”

“Oh, so it’s alright to lie?” He crosses his arms and snickers, glancing down the street toward the restaurant.

I roll my eyes, of course, he doesn’t understand, why would he? “You don’t get it” I scoff, dismissing him. I turn and reach for the car handle again.

“So what if you were at a party? People drink, if some have a problem with that, that’s their problem. Oh! I forgot! You're America's Sweetheart! The perfect angel princess with a spotless record,” he mocks.

I slam the car door shut, having hit my limit. I keep my voice hush. “It’s not that simple! I'm not like you! I can't be caught partying! If the country, the world, sees the truth then my image is ruined! I've been doing this since I was a teenager! I worked way too hard for far too long to lose everything over a stupid mistake!”

Colson’s face falters from his usual carefree expression to one of seriousness.

“Found it! Let’s go!” Sam announces loudly to the whole block.

I toss him the keys and glance back to Colson who stands there in a stillness I have yet to see from me. His stare makes me want to hide. I feel as though I’m under a microscope being studied.

“Toodaloo Y/N! ‘Till next time my pals!” Cara strolls down the sidewalk.

It’s evident she’s had a couple of drinks. She sways further down the sidewalk and comes to a stop once she notices Colson isn’t following.

“Later Cara!” Sam shouts over the top of the car behind me.

Colson and I stare at each other I’m guessing for different reasons. He appears lost in thought and I’m desperately trying to figure out why. If I look away, I fear he’ll break to pieces or something.

Cara pauses. “Colson? You coming?”

He holds out for a moment but finally breaks eye contact with me. "Yeah."

When I’m no longer staring into those black works of art I regain my ability to move. I hurry into the car and Sam says his goodbyes again over the top of the car. I buckle my seatbelt when he climbs in. Watching strangers walk up and down the sidewalk, I’m perfectly aware of Sam starring me down.

He pulls onto the street. “Are we gonna talk about it or are we doing silence?”

I reach over and turn up the radio.

“Of course you make your own option.” Sam watches me, waiting for some sort of explanation.

We come in at the end of a song and the next one is oh too recognizable. The classic rock sound that is a part of all of Colson’s music plays through the car speakers. His vocals enter the soundwave and I groan loudly over the music before turning off the radio.

"No music then!" I snap.

__________________________________

Masterlist

Tags: @canyoubuymetoast @bri-3530 @asil1652 @andstilltryingtofindmyself @nadia2021 @olafsidehoe @mgkobsessed @fairywriting101 @ferrell-cat @naylanae-0308 @tonystarkswife10 @alexsa5 @brocksbabyyy @stormrider505 @magnificenthumancopangel @sarcasticfangirlus @lilramencup95beech @missyviolet123 @skeleton-gxr @glitterybearllamaflap @margaritaville20 @amoresix @thysagclub

[sweetestlamb]

Bring Me To Life

Summary: Kang Sujin has never had anyone to turn to, hiding behind a façade her entire life. Someone begins to peek behind the mask. 

Author’s note: My two favorite characters in TB are Seojun and Sujin, both characters who are honestly treated like trash by the writers. I cannot begin to tell how upsetting it was to see Sujin’s character assassination or how painful it is to watch her being physically abused knowing that the writers will not give her therapy or a true happy ending. She’s just here to be beaten and vilified. Seojun, I won’t even rant everyone knows what the problem is (idk who told them we wanted to see Start-Up the high school edition.) So I wrote this after watching the most recent episode and hating most of it for these reasons. I don’t know how far it’ll go or how often I can update, but I need my two babies to have a happy ending preferably together because the visuals are just a dreammmm. 

The rain crashes down loudly from aggrieved storm clouds bellowing above her in the sky, the chilled condensation plastering her thin satin pajamas to her trembling body. She had to get out, the pain in her cheek numbing and electrifying all at once.

How dare she tell him that she didn't want to get married, want to stand on her own two feet without a man giving her value?

His hand had flown across the room before she could sidestep the blow, the fragile glass filled with water in her hand- the very reason she'd left her room in the dead of night- shattering into jagged pieces as it collided with a greater force. Just like her.

She hadn't been trying to eavesdrop but it was hard not to hear him chuckling deeply on the phone, offering up his only child like she was an item on a menu.

"Yes we should set them up. It seems Suho isn't interested and she should marry young, that's when women are worth the most."

Nausea rolled like waves in the pits of her stomach and before she could think logically, her feet were sprinting into the living room, air barely filling her lungs as she stared at the man she'd never once thought of as a father. The last time she'd made the grave mistake of calling him daddy he'd smacked her so hard that was how she lost her first tooth. He'd been father ever since or Mr. Kang. She tried her best to avoid him at all cost, she would never be good enough and it was getting harder to hide the marks he left behind.

It was difficult to remember clearly what occurred seconds after her refusal to marry a man she didn't know left her lips, his fist connected and she was knocked back onto their coffee table the sharp edge cutting at her cheek. As she looked at him, anger painting his face a demonic red, fear crippled her and her hands twitched desperately wanting to wash them raw. Then he grabbed a thick marble ashtray from the table and her instincts took over and she was out the door, running as fast as she could, knowing her life was at stake and she couldn't afford to stop.

When the cloud in her head cleared that was when she found herself at the bus stop.

Judgmental whispers breeze by her ears as people passed by with umbrellas, shocked to see the young girl crying in her pajamas at the stop, but none stopped to offer her help or inquire about her situation, happy just to pass judgement. She ignores them all, panicking racing through her blood until she's unable to breathe, choking on nothing as she twitches in the harsh air. Her throat constricts as she screams at herself, breathe. 

Breathe.

BREATHE! 

But it's useless as her body shuts down, forgetting how to do the basic function, she sways as she starts to feel light headed from the lack of oxygen and with a final wheeze she collapses. 

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

He signs as he weaves past cars moving far too slowly, adrenaline rushing through his veins as he marginally misses nipping a car to the left of him, easily dragging his motorcycle away with the fluid movements of his body. He glares up at the sky before cursing, "Fucking weather report didn't say anything about a sudden rainstorm." If he'd known he would have stayed home, always hating the rain. It brought back bad memories.

Halting at a red light, he puts his leg down for balance bouncing slightly in place. Pulling the shield up on his helmet he glances around, recognizing the area easily, before something in his peripheral catches his attention, a lump on the ground. Tilting his head he revs his trusty iron steed to live, riding over to the direction of the mysterious mass on the wet ground. As he gets closer his heart falters, it's too evident now. 

It's a person.

Jumping off his bike and pushing out the kickstand he flings his helmet off, his hair immediately drenched under the downpour as he races over to help. As he nears the figure, it becomes clearer it's a woman wearing what looks like sleep clothes. Momentarily he wonders if this is a crazy person and if he should just mind his business but a frightening image of his little sister unconscious on the ground and no one coming to her aid flashes in his mind.

"I'll just check if she's breathing and call an ambulance. That's all, if she tries to attack me I'll just ride away." He takes a deep breath, collecting his courage before closing the gap between him and the unconscious woman.

Crouching beside her, he reaches out a hand hesitating before sighing and shaking at her cold shoulder. No response. He shakes harder now, watching the motion quake through her entire body, but still she is unresponsive.

"Hey! Hey! Are you okay? Wake up, you're scaring me!" He starts to jiggle her with both hands, before he crawls into her space not caring about his safety any longer, the idea that this unknown woman might be dead is making him nauseous. People are always dying without his permission. It's so frustrating.

"Wake up! Come on!" He shouts at the figure now holding both her shoulders and turning the woman over, lifting her face from its place on the ground, cradling her limp body in his lap. After two more vicious shakes, she starts to cough and groan in his arms. Relief swims through his veins as he watches her come back to life, anxiously watching as her dewy long lashes flutter open and he's caught in a lifeless deep gaze.

"Han Seo-Jun?"

It takes a long pause for him to register that the woman has said his name and then a longer moment to recognize who she is.

"Kang Su-Jin?" He replies in genuine shock, taking in the wom--young girl in his arms. She's shivering so violently that it's becoming difficult to hold onto her, vibrating out of his hold before he grips her tighter, whipping off his jacket without second thought and wrapping it around her. Goosebumps raising on his skin as his body mentally berates his lack of survival skills.

"What are you doing here?" She looks at him bewildered as if the stranger occurrence is his presence and not her own.

He squints his eyes looking back at her, "I could ask you the same thing. I found you unconscious here. I thought you were...." He trails off unable to utter the rest of his sentence.

"You should have left me here. Maybe I would have. If I was that lucky."

"What? Are you crazy, you want to die? Did you do this to yourself, what are you on?!" He roars at her, rage flooding his system as he shouts at the stupid girl, how dare she try to kill herself and leave her body for him to find? He wishes he had taken a different route, that he'd never come across her. He was in no state to comfort someone who was suicidal, still too raw and hurt. What was so hard about living that made people want to do that? Hot tears gather in his eyes as he abruptly pulls away from Sujin, unapologetic as she tumbles to the ground without his support.

She starts at him, stunned before righteous fury twists her features and she roars back at him.

"Who are you to judge me! I didn't ask you to help me, leave me alone!"

He glares back at her ready to yank his jacket away and run away from her but a small movement stops him, as she's screaming at him a small muscle twitches in her cheek bringing his attention to said cheek. It's nearly purple, standing out obscenely on her pale skin and then he notices the split lip and the bruises on her neck and he's so ashamed of himself he could bawl.

He deflates before speaking to her, "What happened to your face? Who did this to you?"

He doesn't know what kind of look he has on his face but before his questions can even settle between them she's sneering and twisting away from him, throwing his jacket on the ground before making her escape. Unprepared for her sudden departure he reacts too late, before chasing after her. It's easy to close the distance separating them with his long legs and within seconds she's merely inches in front of him, he reaches out a large hand to grab her wrist but hesitates recalling the bruises littering her frame. Instead he races past her, blocking her with his body swerving to the left and then the right when she tries to dodge him. They play this cat and mouse game before she finally gives up, glaring up at him with moist enraged eyes.

"Why do you care? We aren't even friends!"

Her piercing shout rings in his ears as he looks down at her passively. He can't answer that question, doesn't know what brought him to this area so late and not understanding why he was the one to find her in this condition. He doesn't know why he cares. But maybe things could have been different if Se-Yeon had someone to chase him. Maybe he'd still be alive...

So he answers her honestly.

"I don't want anymore people to die."

To his complete shock she starts to cry, tears falling rapidly from her eyes before she crumples to the ground, the rain pounding on her head and he stands still unsure of what to do before he drapes the jacket he'd rescued from the ground over her head, shielding her from most of the thunderous downpour. When she looks up to see the jacket protecting her, he almost falls backwards as her head slams into his chest, her tears simmering hot on his chilled body. It's almost painfully uncomfortable but he doesn't move away. Letting her cry on his chest, his shirt is soaked anyway this makes no difference.

He doesn't know how long they are crouched there on the ground, so dark that the sidewalk is completely devoid of anyone else, it feels like they are the only two people left on Earth.

"If we stay here you're going to get a cold."

He voices his concern but the only reply he receives is a gross sounding sniffle and he grimaces, knowing that his poor shirt is probably damaged beyond repair covered in snot and tears.

Sighing he starts to repeat himself before she whispers, "I don't have anywhere to go."

"I can take you home." Her fists tighten in his drenched shirt, he can practically feel the fear wafting off her, he'd assumed the marks on her face were from a possessive unhinged boyfriend but her reaction makes him uneasy. He tries to push those unpleasant thoughts to the corner.

"What about your friends? Why don't you call Su-ah or Ju-Kyung, I’m sure they’ll help you.” 

She stiffens in his arms before shaking her head in decline.

"No. I can't let anyone else see me like this. I don't need them looking at me the way you did, like I'm a sad pitiful puppy. I never want anyone look at me like that again."

He can respect that, he never wants to appear weak in front of others. It was easier to become angry and lash out rather than showing your true heart, nobody could hurt you that way.

"Then what? Where do you want to go?"

"I have nowhere to go. I'll stay here until morning. I'll be fine, you can go."

He looks at her dumbfounded, what kind of man would leave a battered woman alone in the rain? He wasn't raised by animals, damn it.

"Let's go." He makes a point not to touch her, their only point of connection are her hands twisted in his shirt.

"What?"

He bulldozes past her confusion, looking at her with what he hopes are comforting eyes.

"I'm taking you to my house. I can't just leave you here."

"Are you crazy? Don't you live with your mother and sister, what will they say?"

He winces at the logical inquiry, he had already considered that himself, thinking of his mother's subsequent smacks and his sister's teasing once they learned what he'd done but still deciding that he has no other choice. He can't just leave her here.

He shrugs, "That's my problem to worry about. I'm not leaving you here, I'd really like to get out of his rain. Let's go." He repeats himself harder, pleading with her.

She looks away and he's prepared to throw her over his shoulders and face the consequences when he hears her response, "Okay. Let's go."

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

It's a quiet ride back, the engine rumbling through the aching bones of her frozen body. Han Seojun. The last person she ever expected to see after being roused from her panic induced collapse. Her arms tighten around his thin waist as he swerves around a car, adrenaline and fear battling for dominance in her body. When her fingers accidentally brush across wet bare skin she quickly moves her hands higher, fighting the embarrassment that washes over her.

If he notices she can't hear his reaction over the roar of the motorcycle.

When they finally pull up to a small apartment, she loosens her hold on him cracking her frozen digits.

"You didn't need to hold that tightly, I wasn't going to let anything happen to you. I ride this everyday you know."

She doesn't reply focusing on getting off the bike, swinging her leg over and hopping off not graceful but effective, a small proud smile spreads on her face before she gazes back at him.

He stares back before shaking his head, as if lost in a daze before he stomps off for her to follow.

Wordlessly she trails behind him, feeling foolish in her duck pajamas, a gift from Su-ah.

When he pushes his front door open, letting her in first she steps out of her sopping wet house slippers standing awkwardly looking around.

"Stay here. I'll get towels so we don't trail too much water."

She nods at his command, gazing at the floor and seeing how much water is already pooling around her feet.

"Here." He hands her a fluffy pink towel, she raises an eyebrow at the color.

"It's the guest towel. I wouldn't give you my towel."

That makes sense, sharing towels is far too intimate for the relationship they have. That being none. 

She rapidly towels at her hair, before running the towel down her body and wrapping it around her waist.

"You can use the bathroom. It's the second door on the right. I'll bring you dry clothes."

She steps cross the doorway, finally entering his home. Before she turns back to him staring directly into his eyes, "Than.... You didn't have to do this." She loses her confidence but his answering smirk lets her know he understood enough, with that she walks to the bathroom locking herself inside.

The sight of her bruised face in the mirror makes her pause, reaching up to finger at the stark purple mark on her cheek. She's crying before she can control her emotions, tears dripping into the sink as she remembers her night, how close she was to the end despite what she said to Seojun she wanted to live. As her father stood above her ready to snuff her out like a mere nuisance in his life, she realized with a burning passion how desperately she wanted to live.

A soft knock drags her back to reality as she rapidly wipes her tears away.

"I'm leaving clothes by the door. You can come out whenever you're ready. I'm making tea."

When she hears the light steps of his feet moving away from the door she opens the door a crack, picking up the neatly folded pile of clothes. Sending the boy a mental thank you before closing the door quietly.

It's clear that these clothes belong to Seojun, draping off her body, too large for her frame, a black T-shirt with a microphone on the center and sweatpants that cover her feet as well, he'd even remembered to bring her socks. Instantly she feels her body warming as her body temperature returns to normal. 

Folding her wet clothes and splashing water on her face then using the towel to rub it dry, she exits the bathroom walking towards the light she sees assuming that's the kitchen.

"The water's almost done boiling. Sit down."

His deep voice greets her as she follows his orders and takes a seat.

"Are these your clothes?"

"What? Oh yeah they're mine, sorry my sister locked her door. They're very old though, I haven't worn them in years I thought they would fit you better." He eyes her as he says the last sentence, "I guess it didn't make much of a difference I'm just too tall and manly for my own good."

She scoffs at his narcissistic comment rolling her eyes "Tall and manly my foot. You're so skinny I could probably pick you up with one arm."

He immediately turns at her comment, affronted look on his face, "Shut up! It's hard for me to put on weight, I'm not that skinny."

He places his hands on his hips, looking down at himself before puffing his chest out to make himself appear broader, it's so ridiculous that she can't control her reaction.

Sudden uncontrollable laughter.

She laughs breathlessly, folding onto her lap trying to contain her giggles but his scandalized look makes her laugh harder and she has to stuff her face in her elbow to prevent herself from waking his family.

After a few minutes of random spasms of laughter she finally peers back up at him.

He looks just like he did outside when she'd smiled after successively getting off his motorcycle.

"What? What are you looking at?"

"Nothing. I just never see you smile at school."

"Well you never do anything worth smiling about." She quips back, wondering if she'd gone too far but he doesn't reply beyond a slight smile that's gone too fast to even be titled that, he places her steaming cup of tea before her sipping at his own after blowing on it.

They drink in comfortable silence.

She's the first to rapture the silence, "I don't need pity."

"I don't pity yo--"

"But thank you. Thank you for stopping. Thank you for this, thank you."

He stares wordlessly before nodding, a slight blush on his cheeks before he hides his face in the cup of tea. She doesn't bring attention to it.

"You can sleep in my room. It's the door next to the bathroom."

Humming she looks up, fatigue hitting her like a brick at the mention of sleeping.

"Where will you sleep?"

"I have a perfectly good couch, don't argue you're sleeping in my room. That's final. It's better that my mother doesn't see a strange woman on the couch when she wakes up."

Well, she can't argue with that logic.

"Okay." Drinking the last of the soothing beverage, she stands up walking over to place the cup in the sink.

"Good night." She starts to walk back in the direction of the bathroom, seeing another door next to it. Seojun's room. Twisting the doorknob she pushes it open, before she hears his voice from behind her.

"If you need anything I'm right outside."

Blinking her tears away, she nods without looking back, too vulnerable with his palpable concern.

When she lays her head down on his pillow, his scent fills her senses and she falls into a deep restless slumber feeling safer than she has in long time.

Tomorrow will be horrible.

But tonight, she will allow herself to breath easy knowing that someone is on her side.

[liunaticfringe]

(via Lucy Liu's Independent Woman - Interview Magazine)

There have been many great sidekick pairings in the history of modern literature. Huckleberry Finn and Tom Sawyer, Phileas Fogg and Jean Passepartout, Winnie-the-Pooh and Piglet…the list goes on. Yet, it seems there has never been a delightfully tumultuous relationship that comes close to echoing the one embodied by rogue detective Sherlock Holmes and his faithful friend and assistant Dr. John Watson. Written in the form of short stories by Arthur Conan Doyle between the late 19th and early 20th centuries, the opium-den loving Holmes would terrorize London with his intellectual, astute, and stubborn prowess, with Dr. Watson providing medical expertise and chronicling their entertaining exploits along the way.

Doyle’s works have now long been entered into the public domain, with many film and television adaptions cropping up every few years. Still, when CBS announced in 2012 that it would be turning Doyle’s works into an hour-long crime-drama series titled Elementary, it elicited an unusually high response—this was mostly due to the news that a woman would, in fact, be portraying Watson. Her name would be Joan, not John. And she’s now a fallen from grace surgeon-turned-sober companion and private detective, forfeiting her “Dr.” title in the process. The woman chosen to take on this exciting, contemporary role of Joan Watson was none other than seasoned actress Lucy Liu.

Liu, who’s best known for her roles as a fierce and ill-mannered lawyer in Ally McBeal, an ass-kicking “angel” in the rebooted Charlie’s Angels, and an equally ass-kicking bad girl in the Kill Bill series, certainly provides the yin to the yang of Jonny Lee Miller’s gritty portrayal of Holmes. Elementary chronicles the duo’s relationship as they consult for the NYPD on various criminal cases while living in a shared brownstone in Brooklyn Heights. Initially starting off in Season One as a substance-free friend to the fresh-out-of-rehab Holmes with a keen interest in solving crimes, Watson quickly transformed into a sharp and observant right-hand woman who now clearly has the aptitude to work on her own. And it appears she’ll be doing just that—the end of Season Two left viewers witnessing Watson’s decision to move out of the brownstone and start a new career as a solo private detective, seemingly fed-up with Holmes’ erratic behavior.

The warm and delightful Liu recently called up Interview from her home in New York City to discuss Elementary’s upcoming third season.

DEVON IVIE: Were you on set today?

LUCY LIU: I was running around like a maniac, yeah. It’s beautiful today, it started getting a little bit cooler again. But of course I’ve been bitten by the two mosquitos that are still alive in New York City.

IVIE: I know you were recently at New York Comic Con. How was it?

LIU: It was amazing. It’s such a spectator place. Not only do you get super fans, but you also get people who are curious and inventive and imaginative. It’s fun.

IVIE: Did you run into any cosplayers dressed as Joan Watson?

LIU: Oh, no, I don’t know about that. That’s funny! We did a panel with a huge audience so I couldn’t really see if anyone was wearing anything specific, but it’s an excuse for kids and adults to get dressed up and just be crazy. You know you’ve made it when you have super-fans out there.

IVIE: When you first read the scripts for Elementary, what was it that attracted you to the role of Joan?

LIU: I liked the fact that it was going to be about [Joan and Sherlock’s] relationship and their friendship, and bringing that into modern times. And I thought it was wonderful to change up the gender.

IVIE: Did you immerse yourself in Arthur Conan Doyle’s work as preparation at all?

LIU: I did, I did! I started reading the short stories. I never read them before so it was a really great excuse to read them. I can’t believe it was written so long ago, because it’s so current. The characters are so colorful, which is why I think there are so many incarnations of Watson and Holmes.

IVIE: Do you have a favorite story? I love “A Scandal in Bohemia.”

LIU: There were some pretty amazing stories. The one that stood out to me, which was a Watson story that I got to know him a little more through, was “The Hound of the Baskervilles.” He really is on his own in that. Of course it turns out that Holmes has been there all along, but it’s interesting looking into his interior.

IVIE: Yeah, the entirety of “The Hound of the Baskervilles” is narrated just by Watson. And his diary and letters, too.

LIU: Yeah, I think it’s really cool. We started incorporating that into the show, too, the letters and journals.

IVIE: Has this detective genre always appealed to you? Did you grow up watching or reading detective whodunits?

LIU: I remember more of the old school Nancy Drew and Hardy Boys sort of thing. I also grew up with the Scooby-Doo mysteries. Remember when the villain would go, “I would’ve gotten away with it if it weren’t for you rascal-y kids!” Those were the kind of the things I immersed myself in. I have to say that my mother has always been a huge fan of Columbo and Murder, She Wrote, so this show was her dream come true. I don’t think she totally understood what was going on with Ally McBeal. [laughs]

IVIE: I’ve enjoyed witnessing Joan’s evolution throughout the course of the show, starting off as a sober companion and eventually ending up as a trusty sidekick and confidant to Sherlock. What can we expect from Joan in Season Three?

LIU: When you see them in the third season, you see some friction between the two characters. Joan is now on her own, she has her own detective agency, has a boyfriend, and has been without Sherlock for eight months. She’s got her own apartment, she’s settled, and he shows back up. I think she’s a little bit hurt by what happened and how their relationship and partnership ended, which was basically his decision and his choice, and he left it all in one little note for her. I think she felt that their relationship was much deeper than that, and that he was dismissive in the way that he handled that.

IVIE: How would you define the relationship between Joan and Sherlock?

LIU: I think that it’s a really positive and good relationship, overall. They really have a good chemistry together, work really hard together, and understand each other. They acknowledge each other and respect each other, which is a really important way to have a friendship. And they can learn from each other, you know? She’s very curious about him and I think he sees that she’s a very smart person—that’s vital for him in having respect for someone, having them be intelligent and thinking for themselves.

IVIE: Do you see any of Joan in yourself?

LIU: I do to a certain degree. She’s a lot more measured and patient, for sure. She’s a very curious person, which I think I am, and I think she isn’t afraid of change. She was a doctor, and then became a sober companion, and then jumped off and became a detective. I think sometimes it’s good to make big leaps.

IVIE: You’ve probably been asked this question many times, but do you think a romance between Joan and Sherlock could ever fittingly happen?

LIU: It’s a question that’s often asked and I think it’s really up to the executives. Rob Doherty, the creator [of Elementary] really feels incredibly strongly about keeping their relationship platonic. He has already taken great strides to keep the relationship as clean as possible according to the literature, but he has also changed so much of it by changing the gender of Watson. To have them have a romantic involvement would turn the whole thing upside-down in a way that might really jump the line. [Doherty] felt really strongly about it and I think that’s the one thing he really wants to stay true to.

IVIE: I totally agree. Even on the BBC’s Sherlock, there are campaigns to get Benedict Cumberbatch’s Sherlock and Martin Freeman’s Watson to become romantically involved. It’s like, enough already, no!

LIU: No way, that’s so weird! People do have that level of friendship oftentimes, but it doesn’t mean it’s physical. I think that everyone just assumes because there’s chemistry the next thing should be happening. I would vote “no” for a romance. I think for sure the creator would vote no on that, too.

IVIE: I’ve talked to both women and men who watch Elementary, and they all consistently mention how well dressed and fashionable Joan is. Do you collaborate with the wardrobe department on styling decisions at all?

LIU: That’s awesome. Yes, I collaborate with Rebecca [Hofherr], who’s the costume designer, who’s wonderful. She’s very easy to work with. One thing we try to maintain about Joan and her style is that she’s a bit wrinkled, you know what I mean? Sometimes it looks like things are really put together, but we always want to make sure things aren’t too tight and are comfortable, kind of like she throws things together. We don’t want it to seem so business-y, so we go away from suits. Chic, but not corporate. Also just to make her seem like her outfits aren’t so put-together all the time. But I’m glad that people really seem to like it, it’s a relief! We don’t splurge a lot on the show, we try to do cheaper things, like things Joan would wear a lot. She wears the same white jacket and shoes frequently.

IVIE: Will we be seeing more of the infamous Clyde the Turtle in the upcoming season?

LIU: Clyde will indeed be in it again. We have to share custody of Clyde.

IVIE: Is it true that Clyde is actually two tortoises? Pulling a Mary Kate and Ashley in Full House on us?

LIU: Yes. It’s just like having twins on a show. Just in case one is crying and screaming and passed out or something.

IVIE: You made your directorial debut for an episode of Elementary last season [“Paint It Black”]. Do you have plans to direct an episode again soon?

LIU: That was so exciting. I’ll be directing another episode again very shortly in December, so you’ll be seeing it in a month and a half.

IVIE: Where did your interest in directing come from?

LIU: I guess I was curious about it. Having been in this business for a while, you kind of see and get a glimpse of everything doing film and television. I think it seemed like a natural progression to go into directing, and I hope to explore more of it, because it’s very exciting and a really good way to collide all the things that you’ve known and experienced in the business and put them all into one.

IVIE: Is there an ideal guest star that you’d like to see on the show in the upcoming season?

LIU: I would love to see Mycroft come back. I really think there was a wonderful tension for Mycroft and Sherlock as well as the triangle that occurred when Joan became involved with him. There’s something very deep about that relationship, and I also think that Rhys Ifans is a fantastic actor. He commands the screen, but off-screen he’s incredibly lovely. A real treat to have on the show.

IVIE: I remember the first few episodes that I saw Rhys in, I was like, where have I seen this guy before? So I looked at his Wikipedia page and it became obvious: he was the crazy guy from Notting Hill!

LIU: Yes, the roommate! So good! Everything he does, he just kills it, no matter the role.

IVIE: And it’s always good to have some MI6 action on the show, which Mycroft provided. Some international flair.

LIU: [laughs] International flair, exactly, some added spice. Just throw some spy stuff in there to throw people off their game. You just don’t expect it, you know? It came out of nowhere.

IVIE: That whole three-episode arc at the end of the second season…

LIU: That was awesome. I was lucky enough to direct one of those episodes, which is more narrative in tone. It’s more fun in some ways, too.

IVIE: You’ve done a range of acting work for both television and film. Do you now find yourself preferring one to the other?

LIU: I love both of them equally. The lack of predictability with television is something that’s constantly changing what your perception of who you think your character is. Suddenly I have a father that’s schizophrenic, or I discovered something else, or I have a relationship with Mycroft. The things that pop up and change the game for you and always keep you on your toes. The wonderful thing about film is that you have something that has a beginning, middle, and end, and you have a concrete amount of time to shoot it. And the process of that can be longer, like editing and advertising and testing the movie, so it’s very different. Television you just continue going, no matter what’s happening outside of your world. You get lost in that vortex a little bit.

IVIE: It’s interesting that America is now embracing the “mini-series” format that has already been so heavily utilized overseas, where there are a set amount of short episodes, and that’s it. In a way, it’s kind of like a cinematic experience.

LIU: I like that, too. It allows you to have a freedom of creativity and at the same time you don’t feel like you have to be contracted to something for that long; you’re really working on a piece of art. And then you’re done and you move on, or it comes back, like Downton Abbey. You don’t know. Those things become little masterpieces. The thing about television is that you see a range of actors now that you may not have seen five years ago even, 10 years ago absolutely not, and I think now there’s no wrong about doing television. There’s no definitive category for what kind of department you fall into anymore.

IVIE: What’s a fun, secret fact about your costar Jonny Lee Miller?

LIU: A fun fact about Jonny Lee Miller is that he oftentimes does handstands on a wall before he does a take, sometimes with pushups, to get blood to his brain and get him geared up for a long monologue that he may have. He stays there, hangs a little bit, and then turns around and does the scene. Most of the time in the brownstone more than anywhere else. He’s in full costume and everything. That’s trivia!

IVIE: I wish I could do wall-handstands by myself.

LIU: Oh my god, I need someone to push my legs up and then hold me there. I’m a cheat!

ELEMENTARY PREMIERES THURSDAY, OCTOBER 30 ON CBS.

[seokmingiggles]

peonies.

Prompt: "Going somewhere?"

Pairing: Kim Taehyung x gender neutral reader

Genre: fluff, established relationship, quarantine!au (if that’s what you’d call it?), non-idol!au (this isn’t a typical tag of mine, but I want to make it clear!).

2.36k words

No warnings.

Being cooped up inside for the protection of others can become a redundant routine. Today, your boyfriend breaks that cycle and goes on an unexpected outing—safely, of course.

Alternatively, Taehyung decides that he wants to remind you of his love with the surprise of little gifts. Not that he needs to, but he wants to.

A/N: Here’s a little something I wrote in the span of a couple of hours tonight to separate my Seventeen teacup drabbles. By ‘quarantine!au,’ I mean this one-shot takes place in our current situation with Covid-19 :/ I truly hope all of you are able to stay safe and healthy. Please wear a mask when you go out! We will fight this pandemic!! ♡

•• The distinct metal clinking of keys jingling by the front door catches your attention.

"Going somewhere?"

Taehyung looks up from his feet after slipping on a pair of brown boots. He's got his keys in one hand, along with a slightly crumpled list of something illegible to you from your spot on the couch. A black medical mask is hung haphazardly to the side off of one of his ears.

He stands up tall, "Just got a couple of errands to run. I'll be right back." Your boyfriend flashes you a smile, rounding his cheeks into rolls of puffy dough.

You hum out, "Okay," and return his small wave as he leaves your shared apartment.

There's a slight crisp to the air outside today. It nips on the tips of Taehyung's cheeks exposed from his mask. The boy considers if he should have put on a scarf, too, overtop his jacket. Overtop his mask? It's too late now, he muses. At least his hands are warm inside his fleece-lined pockets, and his round nose is sheltered from the late-winter air. He clutches the piece of paper tightly in his right hand. Writing lists may be obsolete now in the digital age, but Taehyung can't deny how he likes the feel of pen on paper, even if he can recite each written line from memory; crossing off his to-do lists makes him feel accomplished.

His shoes gently click on the sidewalk. The streets are emptier than he's used to seeing. The light snowfall from a few days ago has already melted. Instead, some dead leaves rustle across the dry ground. Someone is walking on the same sidewalk, heading in Taehyung's direction. She's wearing a similar medical-grade mask with hands stuffed deeply into her pockets too. Her hair blows violently in the head-on wind. She looks up from her footsteps, and Taehyung swears he can see what might be a polite smile beneath her mask. The boy's eyes crinkle slightly at the corners in response, continuing on his way.

His first stop is the used bookstore. The smell of old paper and the slight dryness from the dust make their way through Taehyung's mask, into his nose. He doesn't have anything specific in mind. He does, however, know the types of books you like to read. Shelf after shelf, he scans the spines one by one, in search of a title that stands out to him. Stardust, he ruminates, eyes inspecting the plain royal blue cover. It seems simple enough, and if you don't like it, he may consider reading it.

Taehyung weaves through the maze of piled books laid out on the floor; there are far too many for the small shop to accommodate. The owner of the store is sat behind the desk at the side, likewise surrounded by stacks upon stacks of books. Some are dustier than others; some look newer than others.

"Just this one today?" the bookkeeper ponders, face half-masked.

"Yes, please."

The blue-bound book finds a place in the crook of the boy's elbow, pressed to his chest as he returns on his walk. This time, someone is on a run with their dog, jogging on the opposite side of the street. Taehyung never sees his face, only the back of his head as he moves ahead. But he does notice the little elastics of his mask tucked around his ears once he passes by. Muscular, yet lean calves push him to run further; the brown spotted dog seems to skip happily along the sidewalk next to its owner.

The aroma of the bakery is mildly evident before he crosses the street. Located as the first shop on the corner of a new avenue, the little store contains your favourite treats, Taehyung's too. A family-owned business, the boy wants to support their shop during this time of limited sales. Frankly, the boy wishes he could do the same for all of the little stores lining the streets here downtown.

The bell above the door chimes when Taehyung enters the store; the sound resonates in the single room. A rush of hot air smacks his face.

With the sound of footsteps coming down from the upstairs attachment, the shop owner appears in a blue mask. "Welcome!" her voice is jolly, eyes in crescents. "Is it the usual for today, Taehyung?"

The boy in question nods with a smile, fluffy bangs bouncing with the movement, "Please."

The patissier moves to the windowed counter displaying significantly fewer treats than what would have been a year ago.

"Is it a special occasion?"

"No," Taehyung admits. "Just because."

There's a twinkle in the baker's eye. "They're a lucky one."

Taehyung doesn't say anything, and instead, he thinks how he's the lucky one out of the two of you.

He pays with cash, rounding up as an extra tip. The two exchange thanks and other pleasantries, and Taehyung sets back out in the cool air on his way. The paper gift bag holds the two cardboard containers with mouth-watering snacks inside. He slips the novel carefully into the bag, making sure it doesn't rip.

The florist is his final stop on today's little journey.

Blooming buds of each and every colour of the rainbow and then some invade Taehyung's vision. He's sure the fragrant floral scent would be more potent without wearing his mask. He tries to sniff one of the bunches of tulips near the entryway. No, it's mostly neutral with a hint of dust leftover from the bookstore.

"For any reason in particular? Birthday? Anniversary?"

Taehyung is brought from his flower-sniffing, seeing the florist behind the counter bearing what might be an amused grin. The boy hides his frustration at being unable to read people's expressions properly when concealed by the masks.

"Ah, no," his face flushes slightly, "not today. Could I still get some flowers, though?"

"Of course," she beams. "Anything specific?"

The boy ponders, examining each prearranged bouquet laying about. They all look beautiful to him, but Taehyung also doesn't know much about flowers. What's more important to him is how much you like them; that's all he needs to know.

"Surprise me," is his answer, confident in the florist's abilities.

Taehyung ends up leaving the store with a combination of delicate daffodils, carnations, roses, and two large peonies in the center. The bright yellows of the daffodils compliment the ivory carnations and ruby-red roses. The pastel pink peonies, Taehyung thinks, might be his favourite from the bunch. Maybe the two of you are peonies? You're certainly pretty like a flower, yes, so why not a peony?

Taehyung heads in the opposite direction from his travels, starting the walk back to the apartment. The paper bag containing the pastries and the book is still clutched tightly in one hand, while the colourful, decorative flowers are held with significantly more care in his other hand.

The sky is grey today, filled with an abundance of dense clouds. Taehyung swears it had been blue when he had left the house earlier, although now, it looks like there may be another snowfall. More leaves scatter with the wind, blowing in Taehyung's direction. They dance in the breeze, scraping the cemented road and landing in the crook of an alleyway between two shops, both with their lights off and variations of 'Closed' signs decorating the doors.

Sure enough, what can barely be classified as snow begins to fall from the heavens. Tiny flakes of white flutter down, instantly melting as they hit the sidewalk. The only evidence of their existence is when they land on Taehyung's black woollen jacket, but even then, they don't last for very long.

The distinct metal clinking of keys signals your boyfriend's return home. Taehyung takes in your appearance, now off the couch and facing the stove with your back to him. You've changed out of your trusty pair of sweatpants you've been housed in for the past months, opting for something slightly more form-fitting, but comfortable still, nonetheless. Your hair looks washed. Maybe you took a shower in the time Taehyung had been out. You're boiling some water in a pot, from what the boy can tell. Yes, upon moving closer, some pasta swirls around in the churning bubbles, steam escaping only to be swept up in the oven range above.

"You're done with your errands?" you call out over your shoulder, returning your gaze to the cooking pasta as you listen to your boyfriend removing his outerwear by the front door. "How was it out there?"

Taehyung moves his sock-clad feet to where you stand. After washing his hands, a pair of warm arms tenderly wraps around your torso from behind, followed by a brisk peck to your cheek.

"It was quiet out there, as you'd expect," the boy mulls over as he traces some unknown shape onto your hipbone. "Do you want to see what I got?"

You comply with his request, turning the stove's burner down before moving in his embrace as he shifts the two of you to the kitchen island. There, the array of treats are splayed out.

Your eyes immediately land on the flowers: the colours nearly take your breath away. It's been so long since you've seen something so alive. You don't fail to notice the brown paper bag with your favourite bakery's emblem stamped on the side. Something else is peeking out of the bag, something blue that you can't distinguish.

"Why?" you can't help but ask Taehyung. "What's the reason for all of this?" Still held in his arms, you slightly twist so you can glance upwards at your boyfriend.

He's already looking at you with his big brown eyes. Little droplets of melted snow rest daintily in his hair. You reach upwards to brush some aside, also smoothing down some of the astray strands displaced from the wind.

"The reason is that I love you."

"You're too good, Tae," you whisper, hugging the boy properly and burying your face into him. "I love you too."

Another kiss finds your head before you pull away, but only to move closer once again to place your lips on Taehyung's. His nose is cold, but his mouth is hot as you move together with years of practice. You're the first one to part, but staying close enough for noses to brush. Taehyung has a hand cupping the side of your face, thumbing over the roundest part of your cheek from your smile: a shape comparable to a soft bread bun.

Being stuck inside has its downfalls; you and Taehyung are no exception. You've had more arguments in the span of the past ten months than all of the years in your relationship combined. Considering them as arguments may be putting it harshly, disagreements or miscommunication are more accurate depictions of your quarrels. Perhaps the fatigue of being confined indoors is to blame. The worst dispute was a couple of months ago, where you and Taehyung grimly doubted the status of your relationship—if any of it was worth it anymore.

Clearly, you managed to work things out as here you sit on the sofa now, biting into one of the flaky, buttery croissants—one of the few treats adorning the inside of the paper bag. The raspberry preserves on the inside burst across your tongue in a pleasant tartness, complementing the sweet pastry. The pasta on the stove now forgotten, moved to the side and off the burner for another time. You offer Taehyung a bit of the croissant to which he complies, taking a large bite from it. Little flecks of gold decorate the corners of his mouth; one finds a spot on his upper lip beside the dimple of his cupid's bow.

"You're cute," you mumble, gently removing the crumbs from his mouth.

Taehyung disagrees, a voice so soft you'd nearly miss it if he weren't in such proximity, "Not as cute as you, my love." He takes your hand in his, pressing a string of little pecks onto your fingers. Your hand stays in his even after the kisses placed, digits now laced comfortably.

You take another bite of the raspberry croissant until there's one mouthful left. You wordlessly offer it to your boyfriend.

The floral bouquet occupies the center of the kitchen table. It's a fluorescent sight between the dulled walls of the apartment. Like a little piece of sunshine, the flowers provide you with a sense of warmth or energy that you no longer experience trapped in your confined space day after day.

The snow has picked up outside. The clouds have only gotten denser since Taehyung's return home. The sky is gradually growing darker with the hour; streetlamps flicker on one-by-one, lining the streets in glowing amber and putting spotlights on the colourless, falling flakes. Rooftops and tree branches gradually become covered in a dusting of white.

"I love you," Taehyung repeats out of the blue, causing you to remove your gaze from the winter landscape forming outside.

You examine his face as his eyes flutter between yours. A pretty shade of pink blossoms on his cheeks while his mouth lifts into the smallest of smiles.

"I love you too," you say with all earnest. "Thank you for everything today."

"Of course," he nuzzles into the top of your head, pulling you close against him. "I'm sorry we have to stay indoors most of the time."

"It's not your fault, Tae."

The boy hums in acknowledgement. "Sometimes I wish I could solve it all, you know? Like if I wish or pray, or maybe if I believe hard enough, everything will be fixed. Everything will be normal again."

"Things will be normal again," you return. Your thumb strokes over Taehyung's on the hand you're still holding. Your head finds his shoulder.

Taehyung is warm and familiar and possibly the only constant in your life right now. Your eyes reach the flowers in the vase on the dining table once more—vibrant and attractive yellows, reds, and pastel pinks.

You squeeze your boyfriend's hand: a silent thank you; an unsaid I love you.

Taehyung squeezes your hand back.

To do:

live for today

and cherish (Y/N)

••

[blackjacktheboss]

“I don’t want to talk about it”

The car ride home from school is dead silent. Percy nervously taps his fingers against the steering wheel, periodically glancing over at his daughter, whose arms are crossed as she looks out the window, and he prays for strength.

As soon as he pulls into the driveway, Ruthie all but leaps out of the car and rushes through the front door. Percy sighs, taking his time as he grabs his work bag from the back and gets out of the car to follow her inside. The sound of blaring music carries down the stairs combined with the backpack carelessly abandoned on the landing complete the picture for Percy, eliciting another sigh from him.

He paces back and forth a few times at the foot of the stairs, considering what he should do. He could call Annabeth, but she had said she would be in meetings all day and there’s not much she can do from Chicago for a sullen teenage girl. He could call Sally, but she’d probably just bring cookies over and it doesn’t seem to him Ruthie is in the comfort eating stage of whatever she’s going through.

“You’ve fought gods and titans,” he says, trying to hype himself up. “You held the sky for a hot minute. You can’t go to Camp without a kid asking you for an autograph. You can handle your teenage daughter, Jackson. Come on.”

With a deep breath, he trudges upstairs, headed right for her room. The music has gotten a bit softer in volume, but still floats down the hallway as he approaches. He knocks twice, and places his ear to the door, listening for his permission to enter but it doesn’t come.

Slowly, he cracks the door open and jumps when Ruthie’s face appears in front of his.

“I don’t wanna talk about it,” she declares with red, puffy eyes.

Percy bites his bottom lip, unsure of what the right thing to do is. He feels like a teenager again himself, staring at a blonde girl he loves who makes less than no sense to him, which leaves him feeling helpless.

Except he’s not that dumb kid anymore. Well, not on most days. He is a father, but more than that, he’s a dad. It’s his favorite thing he’s ever been next to being a husband, and he’ll be damned if he lets something like a bad day make him forget that.

“I don’t wanna talk either,” he says with a shrug, deciding to fake it until he makes it. “Grab a jacket and a scarf and meet me out back.”

He turns on his heel before she can reply, ripping off his work clothes to change into jeans, a sweater, and his favorite jacket. Ruthie is at the top of the stairs when he exits his room and he follows her down and through the house until they are standing side by side on the deck.

“What are we doing?” Ruthie asks. “I have homework.”

Percy doesn’t answer, just puts two fingers to his lips and whistles as loudly as he can. Ruthie relaxes a bit when she realizes what they’re waiting for, going back inside as a shadow falls over them.

Hey, Boss, Blackjack calls, landing in the middle of the backyard. You rang?

Ruthie reemerges from the house with a handful of sugar cubes, smiling wide as she walks towards the Jackson family’s trusty steed.

“I was hoping you could take us for a ride,” Percy says to his old friend.

‘Course, Blackjack replies, neighing happily as he eats the sugar from Ruthie’s palm. There’s this donut shop in Maine that you gotta try.

“Donuts?” Ruthie asks with a smile as she runs her hand along Blackjack’s side.

Percy winks. “Always.”

[anotherbeingsworld]

heroes and monsters

Pairing: Bryce Lahela x F!MC (Alessia Lyxienne) Characters: Louis Lahela (OC) Rating: G (fluffy, family domestic) Word Count: 900

Summary: Louis suffers a huge scare of the 'monsters' at the attic - before becoming the heroes of the day.

Prompts: @choicesjunechallenge2021 ; Day 4 - Attic.

A/N: Day 4/5 writing streak before the finale itself. As the final fic will be the post-finale one. This is a soft domestic piece of the Lahela family and I don't think I'll get over them anytime soon. Another shoutout for @appiomofchoice again, for everything. <3 enjoy!

Monsters. Monsters?

Did he hear him right? Bryce listens to the little boy with a terrified expression on his face. Louis is six years old, it's the time where one's imagination would come to life. The period where the learning process had begun; where the monsters of the real world have become real. And, here he is – comforting the little boy on their wildest imagination.

“I heard a sound from the attic, it’s the monsters coming to eat us!” Louis stated urgently as he hugged his space-monkey plushie tightly as if a shield to protect him.

“Hey, there is no monster in the attic Louis. It's probably just mommy running around up there.” He stated as he pulled Louis into his arms – an embrace between them both.

“No, I’m sure there is a monster up there! I saw a shadow yesterday while playing with the toys.” He points out, as Alessia appears in the doorway.

Bryce gave her a knowing look, as they knew what it meant. The monster signal – as an idea appears in his head.

“Hey buddy, do you remember your favorite show we watched together today?”

Louis thinks for a moment before nodding excitedly – forgetting about the monster fiasco at the moment. He remembers the show, about a boy with superpowers fighting all the monsters attacking them using his trusty star jacket and star laser; Captain StarTron.

Louis’s obsession with space got him hooked onto the show, mimicking the hero – flying across the living room with his sidekick; Mr. Space Monkey in hand. Together side-by-side fighting the evil monsters.

“Yes! Captain StarTron fighting the monsters in space!” He says excitedly, as he held onto Mr. Space Monkey in his arms with a wide smile on his face.

Bryce and Alessia smile at the sight of their little boy, he is growing up every day. As his eyes met with hers, he squeezes her hands, before putting their plan into action.

“What if we go fight the monsters at the attic just like Captain Startron! Banish them forever from our house?” Bryce mimics the show’s narrator – as Louis smiles excitedly; taking his cape and his sidekick as they all leave the room.

-

The lights were turned on, and the attic was in sight. Louis leading the way, as Bryce and Alessia follow from behind.

The boy stopped in his tracks at the sight of the attic, he turns and the scared expression was there again. The fear came through again. Bryce kneels onto his level, holding both of his hands in his.

“What’s the matter, Louis?”

“What if…the monster ate you and mom?” He stutters a bit, as Bryce looks at him with a smile on his face.

“It won’t happen, buddy, you are our protector and we will be safe.”

“Do you promise?” His green eyes shined through – similar to Alessia’s as Bryce nods by showcasing his pinkie finger for a proper promise.

“Pinkie promise.”

Louis took a deep breath, as they take the stairs on their way to the attic without Alessia. The attic was dark, as Bryce founds the switch in a matter of seconds. The dim light of the attic shines through, as the room was filled with boxes, old trinkets, and even Louis’s baby stuff can be seen in a distance.

-

“Are you ready to fight the monsters, Big Lou?” He asks as Louis nods resolutely with his plushie in the clutch as they commence attack into the imaginary monsters in the attic – a few grunts were released along with the power of their imagination.

-

After a while, both of them sat down on the floor. They fought the monsters together, Louis has fought the monsters bravely as the wide smile of his says it all. He was jumping excitedly, clutching Mr. Space Monkey in his arms – before pulling Bryce into a hug.

“Daddy, I did it! I fought the monsters with Mr. Space Monkey just like the show!” He exclaims excitedly, as Bryce beams from happiness on his son; pulling him into a hug.

“I’m proud of you son, you are our hero just like Captain Startron!” He kisses him on his face, before letting him run around the attic – reeling with happiness in his expression.

Bryce didn’t notice another presence appeared beside him.

As the six-year-old makes his way towards them both.

“Mom! Dad and I fought the monsters just like Captain Startron!” He exclaims excitedly, as she hugs him in return.

“That’s amazing – I’m so proud of you both! Now, let’s get you ready for lunch – it's your favorite.” She winks at Louis, as he immediately makes his way out of the attic – the wide grin never leaving his face anytime soon.

-

Bryce and Alessia sat together on the wooden floors of the attic – her head on his shoulders.

“I love you so much.” She says as he smiles placing a kiss on her temple.

“I love you too.”

They sat in silence, before their cue on parental duty. His thoughts float upon years ago, how different their lives are without Louis. – and how much it changed again when he enters this world. He never thought in any lifetime, he would have a family – as the monsters from his past were haunting him, making him fear the future. And here he is, happy with Louis and Alessia by his side, and he wouldn’t have it any other way.

THE END.

Tags: @bitchloveskcbaseball , @mvalentine , @storyofmychoices , @princess-geek , @lahellacute , @annekebbphotography , @mrsbhandari , @dcbbw , @choicessa , @fantasyoverreality98 , @baltersome , @ofpixelsandscribbles , @thundergom , @starrystarrytrouble , @kelseaaa , @choicesficwriterscreations , @lalizah , @drethanramslay , @eleanorbloom , @openheartfanfics , @brycesgirlbackup , @freckles-spangledvampire , @agentnolastname , @robintora , @adriansbiss , @appiomofchoice , @ariondevereux , @natureblooms24 , @honourlight

[moshymosh]

Remember me: A Night To Remember (2)

When the love of your life suffers from a disease that affects their memory of their life with you, what do you do? Will you spend your last days with them, trying to get them to remember you? The life you had, or would you give up and let them forget you?

Summary- Dr. Spencer Reid felt his whole life change when Agent Y/n L/n joined the BAU. She came in like a cool summer breeze changing everything Spencer knew about love and his capacity to care for someone so much. Y/n came to the BAU with a tragic past, her only goal was to save lives and make the world a safer place for everyone. She meets a skinny shaggy haired doctor, which causes her whole life to change, much like Spencer, will she fall in love or will her tragic past or even her job prevent her?

Pairings- Dr. Spencer Reid x f!reader.

A/N- This is a notebook inspired story, this story will be told and wrote like a chapter book. So some of the endings will not always make sense. Also I don't claim go own Criminal Minds or the Notebook, this is solely for entertainment purposes and for enjoyment. Some of the lines are from the notebook movie, again I don't claim to own either fandom/tv show/ movie. I try to make Y/n as vague as possible so shes more inclusive so if there is any descriptive things that don’t apply to you feel free to ignore them. Also just putting this out there as the story progresses Maeve is still alive and well, she is a good friend of Spencer and Y/n’s. There will be graphic content and sexual scenes in later chapters, warnings will be added as they go. Also if you want to be tagged send me an as or comment here, also send requests I'm down for making little fics.

Here is the board I've been using for inspo here

PS- Please don't post my fics anywhere without my documented consent, thanks -Karma (MoshyMosh)

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Spencer looked at his reflection in the mirror of the fitting room as he adjusted the sleeves of the suit jacket he was trying on, he sighed and stepped out of the small room into the sight of his coworkers.

“Do I look ok?” he asked his friends nervously

“Lose the gray shirt, go for white.” Derek said, looking up from his phone to Spencer. “Garcia just sent me a picture of the tie they got you that matches Y/n’s dress.” Derek said as he passed his phone to Rossi, sitting beside him.

“Yeah, white will look best.” The Italian agent said, looking up from the picture on Derek’s phone. “JJ has your tie, Spencer. She said she will bring it by later today, or in the morning it seems.” he said with a chuckle as he handed Derek his phone back.

“Looks like they're breaking out the wine.” Derek said, chucking at the picture of Penelope holding up two bottles of wine in Y/n’s living room.

“Good Italian wine they're having too.” Rossi remarked, smirking.

Derek looked back up at Spencer, “get the tux but with a white shirt.” he told him.

Spencer turned around to look at his reflection again and nodded his head in acceptance of the suit before he turned and told the employee nearby what he wanted. When the employee went to look for his shirt, Spencer went back inside the fitting room to change back.

Spencer handed the suit he neatly hung back on the hanger to the employee and followed his friends up to the registers to pay for his items. As he let Derek drive him back to his apartment he began to think about Y/n and if she really liked him or only saw him as a friend and coworker. Spencer then wondered if she was having fun with the girls.

“Why are you so quiet pretty boy?” Derek asked as he glanced from the road to Spencer then back to the road.

“Just thinking.” Spencer said looking from the window to Derek.

“About Y/n?” Derek asked softly, looking over to see Spencer nodding his head as he looked out the window again. Derek looked back to the road before he spoke. “Don't overthink your feelings or hers, it won't end well if you do.”

Spencer and Derek sat in silence the rest of the way to Spencer's apartment, once Spencer began to climb out of the car Derek spoke again.

“Keep giving her those gifts, let it come naturally.” Derek said as he watched Spencer grab his tux from the back of the car. Spencer walking into his apartment building, heading for his home as he kept repeating what Derek told him in his mind.

Y/n giggled as she sipped on her wine before she grabbed the box Emily was holding out to her. “What’s this?” she asked in confusion.

“Just open it.” Penelope said as she applied a face mask, looking into Y/n’s makeup mirror she set in Y/n’s coffee table.

Y/n shook her head with a laugh before she set her wine glass down and began to open the lid to the box. She let out a small gasp when she saw the necklace Emily showed her in the shop. “Emily... You didn’t have to do this.”

“Consider it my welcome to the team gift, that is several months overdue.” Emily said as best she could with the drying face mask on her face.

“Thank you, so much.” Y/n said before their laughter was interrupted by Y/n’s buzzer going off. “That must be the food.” Y/n said as she got up to buzz the delivery guy in. Y/n paid and brought their food back to be passed out to the girls. The rest of the night the girls laughed and cried together, just spending some time being friends.

Y/n walked into the bullpen with a groan as she felt the bright lights of the room hit her eyes. She walked over to her desk and plopped down on her chair, dropping her bag from her shoulder to the floor beside the chair.

Y/n spotted the coffee cup in her desk and grinned, looking over to Spencer. “Spencie, you are truly a Godsend.” she said as she saw him walk over to her desk, she stood and gave him a hug causing him to stand stiff.

“Uh, thank you.” Spencer said once she let him go and grabbed the coffee he got for her. She took a sip and sighed happily after.

"What are you guys doing here?" Hotch asked, walking into the bullpen in plain clothes as he looked around at the team that was in the room.

"What do you mean Hotch?" Derek asked him in confusion.

"We have the day off, I'm only here because security called me." Hotch said with a chuckle.

Y/n scoffed and shook her head, her hand reaching up to hold her head. "You're telling me I could've been at home sleeping off the wine headache?" She asked sarcastically as she reached down to pick up her bag. "Though if I did know I wouldn't have gotten my daily dose of Spencer coffee." She said as she grinned at JJ after seeing Spencer scratch the back of his neck in nervousness.

"Guys go home we have a ball tomorrow." Hotch said with a laugh, walking with everyone to the elevator. When they all began to load up in the elevator Y/n and Spencer slid to the back, standing behind everyone Y/n quietly switched the hand she was holding her coffee cup in and hooked her pinkie finger with Spencer's once she freed up her hand.

Y/n looked up at Spencer to see him smile before she leaned her head on his shoulder as they rode like the rest of the way down, only separating when the doors open to the elevator and everyone began to step out.

"Guys, let's have lunch at my place." Rossi said looking at his team. "I'll cook and from my profile of SSA L/n you seem like quite the cook."

Y/n chuckled nervously and shrugged bashfully. "I dabble but I'm down for some famous David Rossi cooking."

"Dabble? Bish please I've seen your kitchen." Penelope said, her arm hooked with Derek's as they stood around in the garage. "You're like a regular old Rachel Ray."

"That settles it. We're doing it. Everyone go home, change into more comfortable clothes and meet at my house after." Rossi called out as he walked to his car, his finger raised as he gestured to the team behind him.

Y/n watched everyone walk to their cars and begin to leave, she watched Spencer begin to walk to the exit of the garage to take public transportation back to his apartment. "Spencer!" Y/n called out to him causing him to stop and turn back around to look at her. "Let me give you a ride?" She asked him, holding her keys up.

"Uh-uh- yeah sure." Spencer said walking back over to him. "You don't have to stop at my apartment, all my clothes are like this."

Y/n smiled and nodded her head in thought. "Ok, it won't take me long to change." Y/n said as she unlocked her car and began to walk around to the driver's side door. "Come on, join me in my trusty steed." Y/n joked with a chuckle as she slid into her seat. Spencer laughed at her joke and slid into her passenger seat.

Y/n started her car and began to pull out of her parking spot then out of the fluorescent-lit garage. She started driving to her apartment, Spencer would steal glances at her as they drove, the soft sounds of Y/n singing to whatever song was on the radio, every time he looked at her a small smile would grace his lips.

"We're almost there, take a picture when you can." Y/n said with a smile, as she turned into her assigned parking space in the parking lot of her apartment complex.

"I have an eidetic memory, I physically can not forget things." Spencer said as he watched as she climbed out of her car.

Y/n laughed and leaned down to look at the man who was still sitting in the passenger seat of her car. "You coming smarty pants?" She stood up straight as she shut her door, moving to lean her hip again the hood as she waited for Spencer to get out. Y/n pressed the lock button on her key fob after he climbed out and began to walk up to her building complex.

Spencer looked around at the complex. "This is a very secure place." He noted when he looked back to watch her scan her keycard to enter into the gate that surrounded the living complexes and courtyard.

Y/n held the gate open for him and nodded as they began to walk to the building her apartment was in. "Yeah, safest one I could find when I moved here." She said softly as unlocked her door and stepped in letting him in behind.

"Why this place?" Spencer asked as he looked around at the organized chaos in her apartment. The chaos he knew from his own living space. Y/n sighed as she set her keys and bag down on the kitchen counter, Spencer looked into the kitchen and noted in his mind what Penelope was saying was true about Y/n's culinary expertise.

"I'll tell you someday." She said gesturing to her living room. "Please make yourself comfortable, I'll just be a minute." Spencer walked further into the living room as he heard her footsteps receding down the hallway to what he assumed was her bedroom.

After she changed and gather her things they were back on the road. heading to Rossi's house for the lunch he offered. The whole team had a great time at the Italian agent's house. Rossi true to his word roped Y/n into cooking with him. The time spent at his house was spent in laughter and fun. Lunch turned into dinner with Y/n being the sole cook this time and soon they were all heading home.

Spencer laid in his bed thinking about what Y/n might look like at the ball. No matter what she wore she would still look beautiful in his eyes. The night faded into the early morning dawn of the day of the ball.

The girls decided to all go to Emily's apartment to get ready for the ball. They did each other's hair and helped with their makeup. Y/n smiled at the girls as they fussed with their dresses. She looked out the window and smiled again at the soled of the setting sun. she looked back down at the mirror in front of the window and continued applying her light red lip stain.

Y/n finished her lipstick and stood, walking over her dressed that was hanging on the back of the door. "JJ help me get into this?" She asked the girl in question who was the first one dressed. She stepped into the dress and pulled it up where it belonged before she turned to let the blonde zip her up. "Girls the guys will be here any minute." She stated as she gathered her stuff.

Right as Y/n said that the doorbell to Emily's apartment buzzed signaling the rest of the team's arrival, causing Penelope and Emily to squeal in surprise. She rolled her eyes and laughed at the pair before she followed her female coworkers to the door to meet the guys downstairs to ride to the venue together.

Spencer stood outside one of the SUVs they were using for the night, watching each one of his coworkers exit the building. Spencer let out a quiet gasp when he saw Y/n, her being the last one to walk out. His eyes raked over her frame taking in every detail, knowing that it will be in his memory forever.

Y/n smiled as she stood in front of him. "Oh, I almost forgot." She said softly before she pulled out a yellow red-tipped rose that she had made into a boutonniere. "I uh- I got this for you." she said shyly as she gestured to the item in her hands.

"Thank you." Spencer said as he stepped closer to her.

"May I?" She asked as she looked up at the agent through her mascara-coated lashes.

"Uh, Yes please." Spencer said, feeling her skirt brush again his legs as she stepped closer to him. His hands instantly went to her hips, not knowing it was to keep her steady or for him to hide the shakiness of his hands. He committed the way the silky tule felt under his fingertips to his memory. Y/n focused on putting the flower in the buttonhole of his suit jacket and pinning it in place.

Spencer looked down at her hands as she straightened the accessory on his jacket. He had to suppress the whine when she stepped away, looking back to her face as it held a small smile directed at him, a blush coating her cheeks.

"Let's go love birds." Derek said with a chuckled as he and their teammates watched them. Soon everyone was loaded into the two SUVs and began driving to the location of the FBI ball.

Y/n and Spencer sat in the back seat of one of the vehicles, Spencer looked over at Y/n and watched the lights of the city flash across her face. Spencer's eyes looked down to his hand that was resting on the seat between them, her pinky finger was hooked onto his pinky and ring fingers. He smiled at the gesture and almost pouted when she pulled away as they arrived at the location.

"Let me get the door." Spencer told her as he got out of the car and rushed around to open her door. He helped her out of the car and smiled at her after he shut the door behind her. Y/n looked around before she linked her arm with his, as they began to walk up the walkway to the entrance.

The evening was spent in fun, dancing, and laughing after the awards were passed out and announcements of changes being made in the bureau were made. Soon the music slowed and Spencer asked Y/n to dance. She looked up and smiled, taking the hand he offered. He lead her to the dance floor and began to dance to the slow tune playing.

"Spencie?" Y/n asked softly, looking up from his shoulder that she was resting her head upon.

"Hmm?" He hummed out as he rested his head against hers.

"Those roses? The ones you gifted me, the coloring means friendships and or falling in love. You obviously knew that you know everything, mister four PhDs." She joked causing Spencer to chuckle and sigh in contentment. "What is your meaning behind them?" She asked softly.

"Well, we're already friends..." Spencer said softly. "Is it bad I meant them to be I am falling in love with you?"

Y/n smiled into his neck before she began to whisper. 'The poems of the privacy of the night, and of men like me. This poem dropping shy and unseen that I always carry. And that all men carry.' Y/n took a breath and pulled back to look at him.

'Love thoughts, love juice, love-odor, love yielding, love-climbers, and the climbing sap.' She continued only stopping when he started speaking.

'Arms and hands of love, lips of love, phallic thumb of love, breasts of love, bellies pressed and glued together with love.' Spencer recited from memory.

'Earth of chase love, life that is only life after love.' She recited along with him. She stopped speaking thinking that they were going to stop, she let out a soft gasp when he continued.

'The body of my love, the body of the woman I love, the body of the man, the body of the earth.' Spencer finished, as he looked into her eyes deeply. "Spontaneous me. Walt Whitman." Spencer said as he smiled softly at her.

He began to lead Y/n to the open doors that lead out to a garden, as the song finished, the garden only held a handful of people that were talking and laughing softly amongst themselves. Y/n leaned against the railing of a small gazebo he brought her to.

"You read the book of poems I gave you." She stated softly with a smile.

"I've read it and re-read it several times." He said shyly, as he rubbed the back of his neck. "And that poem I've deduced is your favorite."

"Why do you think that?" She asked, tilting her head as she looked at him, her arms coming up to rub her bare shoulders.

Spencer watched her before he took off his jacket and put it around her shoulders. "It was the fact the spine was worn and the edges of the pages were worn." He stated as he reached up to rub her arms in an effort to warm her up.

"Hey, love birds." Emily sing-songed, coming up to the pair, slightly tipsy. "Time to go or you'll be riding in a yellow chariot."

Spencer laughed and gestured for Y/n to lead the way, she smiled and began to follow the tipsy Emily to the SUVs. Y/n silently reached back for his hand, he saw this and reached for hers as well, smiling as she used one of her fingers to grip his. Spencer made a mental note to as her why she does this.

Spencer rode with her till she was dropped off at her apartment, even though it was in the opposite direction of his own. He walked her up to her door, making sure that she got home and inside safely before he let the driver take him back to his apartment. He saved the rose she gave him, much like she did with the ones he got her.

They both fell asleep in their beds, each of their thoughts thinking of the other as they drifted off.