#(which is kinda more bash's fault but fair enough)

[squealing-for-harusono-sensei]

Hirano to Kagiura Analysis Ch.9: Hirano's answer

We've finally reached the chapter where Kagiura manages to make Hirano get that Kagiura is in love with him!

The chapter is divided in four parts. The first is in the school hallway, where Niibaashi tells Kagiura that he probably really did confess to Hirano. Second part is in the dorm room and is where the third confession takes place. It's also by far the longest part. The third part is in the dorm hallway, where Hirano affirms that he's staying in the dorm the next year. Last part is back in the dorm room with Hirano waking up Kagiura. I'm gonna track Hirano's feelings and thoughts during the last three parts, because there are some odd ones in there. Mostly caused by Hirano having zero understanding of how romance works.

Like how Hirano didn't get that the confession in the nurse's office was meant in a romantic sense.

Some very important context for this chapter: Hirano thought Kagiura's odd behavior and sleeplessness in the last chapter was because he had scared Kagiura. So for Hirano, the confession was mostly reassurance that the sleep deprivation wasn't his fault. Plus, as this chapter VERY CLEARLY ends up showing, Hirano just does not get romance.

Okay, that's not COMPLETELY fair. He gets it enough to try and let Kagiura down gently. Not gonna go into details of his reactions during the whole confession and talking about it. He's awkward, gets a little mad when Kagiura doesn't accept the rejection, and gets bashful when Kagiura explain his feelings more in depth. I'm more interested in Hirano's relief after them talking about it.

Hirano first thought that he had done something, then that it wasn't because of him, and then learns that it was kinda because of him, just not something specific that he had done. His relief comes after Kagiura says that he wants things to stay the same. As it becomes clear in the next part, at this point he thinks that the whole thing has been Solved.

Because in the next (very short) part, he's acting the same way that he usually does when Kagiura compliments him or shows that he cares, even though Hirano now knows that Kagiura is in love with him.

Of course Kagiura would miss Hirano, he's in love with him. But Hirano is reacting the same way to that minor confession as he did before learning of Kagiura's romantic feelings.

That changes when Hirano wakes Kagiura up in the next part and Kagiura blushes.

Suddenly the problems from ch.8 aren't solved.

Hirano genuinely thought that after he had rejected Kagiura and they decided to keep going as they had, it would be over. Problem solved, moving on. Pretty much anyone knowing anything about romance would recognize that Kagiura was settling for second best when wanting things to stay as they had, and that he'd still want to be with Hirano romantically if he could. But Hirano very much DIDN'T get that. But now he kinda does, which means the source of Kagiura's sleep deprivation and avoidance of Hirano is, as Hirano sees it, still very much a Problem.

[bangtae-sohotddaeng]

we’ll be counting stars | k.th. | 4

(^ gif cred: ON THE VOYAGE | pinterest)

pairing: idol!Taehyung x publisher!Reader

rating: nc-17 (for language and themes)

summary: You’d sworn off love and relationships forever. You were here to do your job - work with the biggest boyband of the world. Not forge friendships and...and whatever it was that you and Taehyung were building up with these sneaky glances. It was, to be very fair, your Chief Editor’s fault that you’d landed in this mess. Maybe you should quit your job? Maybe you should quit life -

Oh, he was staring again, and did he freaking lick his lips?

warnings: swearing (reader’s got a potty mouth) + this is set like 5 years in the future + reader has emotional issues, she's a relationship phobe + mentions of weed

genre: so much ANGST ugh + fluff + comedy + some crack

words: 4.6 k

note: hey, y'all. i know i've been awol and i'm really sorry about it, but, well - first i went back to uni for a while and got busy with my classes and my boyfriend. but this lasted for, like, barely three weeks, and then i came back home and got covid. yep, i finally got unlucky. my parents got it, too, after me, and the three of us had been home quarantined and getting treated for the past month or so. we're in better health now, though, so i'm getting back into writing. here's hoping i pick up speed super quick! 💜

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gimme feedback, much much appreciated!

Your first week of heading this project with all its roadblocks and exhaustion, as it turned out, had merely been a taste of what was to come.

Your Wednesday at work began on a positive note, though. 

Towards the middle of the day, your phone rang, making both you and Jungkook jump. 

Cursing, you pursed your lips at Jungkook apologetically, and fished the device out. He nodded at you with a chuckle. 

Looking at your phone screen, you realised this was a call you'd been waiting for.

“Hello?” you answered.

“Hello, ma’am. I’m calling to inform you that we’re done.”

Your eyebrows immediately hiked up your forehead. “Wow, really? That’s great news!”

“Yeah, the cleaners will be in tomorrow morning. You can move in by tomorrow evening.”

You actually grinned. “That’s such fantastic news! Thank you so much, Mister Lin. I’ll initiate your payment later, today.”

“Anytime, ma’am. Thank you.”

You disconnected the call with a happy sigh. Jungkook squinted at you. “That sounded like a fun conversation.”

You nodded, smiling. “Our team is moving into an apartment, tomorrow.”

“Wow! You’ve been in the hotel for what, ten days now? Must feel nice!” Jungkook’s eyes sparkled.

You nodded with a sigh, shutting your eyes in relief. “Oh, yes. We’d made reservations at the hotel for fifteen days. We had to move into the apartments within this week. This feels so amazing. I’ll finally be able to prepare my own food.”

Jungkook giggled at that, scrunching his nose up. “Where’s the apartment? Hope it isn't too far.”

“Oh, no, it’s a few blocks away from here. Which is why we had to book a hotel in the first place. We needed two four-bedroom apartments on the same floor, in this specific radius, in three days.” You paused to laugh when Jungkook’s jaw dropped with a gasp. “It was a very hard find. But our agent was sharp, he did a great job.” You clapped your hands together. “I cannot wait to check out of the damn hotel.” 

Jungkook nodded in understanding. “Hotels are hard. It could be a seven star luxurious penthouse, but you’d still wanna run away from it after a while.” 

He seemed to be speaking from his personal experience, but running away from a seven star luxurious penthouse? You couldn’t relate. You hated your hotel because the curtains weren’t dark enough and the mattress was stiff and you couldn’t afford getting any of them changed. You also hated having to order Chinese every single day, but you also knew you’d be emptying your bank account if you got anything else.

None of this would trouble someone living in a seven star’s penthouse. But you didn’t want to make Jungkook uncomfortable by stating any of this when he was just trying to be a bit compassionate and empathetic.

“Food doesn’t bother me that much, though,” Jungkook continued after a thoughtful pause. “We’re usually either on diets or order takeout. I personally hate the mattresses.”

“Oh yes,” you sighed deeply, the kink in your upper back in absolute agreement. “I’m not really a fan of sleeping anywhere other than my mattress back at home, but hotel beds are the worst of it.”

Jungkook chuckled, nodding. “I completely understand. You remember that story I told you about lugging my beddings over to our dorm when we first moved into one?”

You nodded with a laugh. “Oh, yes. The rest of the boys were getting new mattresses, and you were busy dragging your mattress from your parents’ house. It may sound hilarious, but it’s actually very relatable.”

Jungkook looked a bit bashful as he nodded. “You know, when we first started preparing for our first tour, I had a half a mind to take it with me.”

You barked out a loud laugh at that, the mental image of Jungkook dragging a seven by four piece of bedding around and stuffing it into trailers. He laughed, too.

“Yeah, it was funny and really stupid. Half the time we didn’t even get to sleep in the bed we had taken with us, but whenever we did, I was nodding off the second my head hit the pillow.” Jungkook’s eyes sparkled as he went down the memory lane. “That one was nothing in comparison to the tours we go on now, but it was our first ever experience so it was still pretty difficult adjusting, Tour schedule is a different level of hectic, you know? You don’t have time to eat, you don’t have time to sleep. Just rehearsals and fittings and sound checks. I would fall asleep in makeup chairs,” he confessed with a chuckle, shaking his head fondly, “and when noona would wake me up, I would recall how I wanted to bring my mattress here. Such naivete.”

You smiled, nodding along. You hadn’t yet gotten to the tour discussion yet, as it was planned out for the third month of your blueprint, so all of this was brand new to you. But, at this moment you didn’t want to bring up plans and blueprints. Jungkook was compassionately being candid with you. You were becoming friends, beyond your professional boundaries.

Sighing, you decided to impart something personal, too. “When I moved to the States and got into this company, I rented the apartment with an old friend who was already living there. And it wasn’t my first time living in a house away from my parents. I’d been a university student, lived in dorms then rented apartments, both solo and shared.” Jungkook looked at you pensively, nodding with a little furrow in his eyebrows. “But when I got to this apartment, got all this brilliant furniture set up, all new and fresh, I couldn’t sleep. I missed my home.” Jungkook’s eyes softened, lips pressing down into an understanding smile. “Not the dorm, not the studio I’d been renting—I missed my childhood bed.” You exhaled, recalling all your sleepless nights. “There's this connection you build with the place you call home. I’m sure you must have started to feel this way about your dorms as time went on.”

Jungkook softly smiled, nodding as he looked into space. “Very correct. Tour life made me realise this exact fact.”

You both sat in a few minutes’ quiet, basking in the nostalgic atmosphere you’d built around you.

Then Jungkook grinned at you. “Now you’ll get to experience real Seoul life.”

You laughed. “Oh, yes. And I honestly can’t wait for it. The local markets, the grocery stores, everything. Everything here is very unlike home.”

“I’m sure you’ll love it!” Jungkook exclaimed, wiggling his eyebrows smugly.

You went back to work soon after, with Jungkook tossing in questions about your move and suggestions about what all you should do in the city, every now and then.

It was a good, productive, joyous day. You were hardly even tired when you got back to your hotel to spend your last night on that stiff ass mattress.

Thursday had started off pretty much the same, except for you guys taking a slightly early departure to spare some extra time to set your new place up after your belongings were moved.

By late night, you were all settled in two, pleasant, well-furnished, well ventilated four-bedroom apartments, next to each other. Your housemates consisted of Sana and Simon. Needless to say, you weren’t a fan. But you needed a room to build the office in and you preferred it to be under the same roof as your bedroom because you tended to work odd hours when you couldn’t sleep. Simon and Sana volunteered to share the apartment with the office and you, so you didn't exactly have room for complaint.

From getting the apartment cleaned one last time to accept you all, to ensuring none of you had left anything significant behind in your hotel rooms—you didn’t trust the hotel staff enough to not misuse it if they found anything related to BTS in one of your rooms—you had been the one that took care of it all. It was kinda on you, because you didn’t trust anyone from your team to do the latter responsibly. So, quite naturally, you were dead on your feet by the time you got into your soft as a cloud beddings at nearly 3 o’clock in the morning. Sleep pulled you in the seconds you rugged your covers up.

You were very dead on your feet when you got to the BTS dorm, five hours after you’d gotten into bed. You hadn’t had a drop of alcohol in your system for more than a few weeks, now, but man did you have a hangover.

So it goes without saying that when you bumped into someone on your way to Jungkook’s studio, your eyes were half shut. You wouldn’t have thought much of it and might have slinked away with a mumbled apology, if not for the familiar voice than greeted you.

“Good morning. Looks like you had a rough night?”

You blinked, miles away from sleep within a second when your eyes met a familiar pair of brown ones. Taehyung was dressed in the routine BTS loungewear that consisted of a pastel t-shirt that was one too many sizes bigger on him and dark sweatpants that covered his feet. His hair was the usual black and curly, mostly pulled away from his forehead with a few tendrils dangling over his brows.

Your interaction with him had been meagre throughout this week, only consisting of respectful nods of greetings and waves of goodbyes. You’d meant to ask him how Simon was doing and how he felt about his ideas being taken now, after you’d had a talk with Simon about it. But you didn’t know what you would do if he said he was hating how things were and wanted you to do something about it. So you had kept your mouth shut and watched from the sidelines as you tried to gauge Taehyung’s inner feelings by his facial expressions. 

He was an extremely closed off guy, never really letting his face show what he was truly feeling. But sometimes you would catch him looking into space as if he was zoning out of his conversation with Simon. Now, he could very well be thinking deeply about something Simon said—you really couldn’t be sure with the guy. But it had you worried, nevertheless.

God. Why did Simon have to pick out Taehyung’s name?

By the time you realised you’d been staring at him for too long, he had realized it too. “Anything wrong with my… hair?” he innocently questioned, threading his fingers through the front of it.

“No!” you yelped, making him flinch. “I mean, no, it’s not that. I, um. We were moving into our apartments last night and it got kinda late. My brain’s processing things a bit slow, today.”

Taehyung chuckled at that, nodding with his teeth on display. “It’s okay. Congratulations on the move. Hotels suck.”

You sighed. “Tell me about it.”

Awkward silence hung over the two of you as you looked at the floor, at your feet, at his feet, tried to discern if his pants were very dark gray or blue, cleared your throat, scratched your ear, met his shifty eyes again— 

“How…how is working with Jungkook?”

His question caught you off-guard. You looked at him in surprise. “Uh…it’s, um. It’s good. Very comfortable, very productive. It’s great, actually.”

Taehyung nodded, pursing his lips as he looked down again. “Simon has been a better listener this week. Did you talk to him?”

A weight was lifted off your shoulders on hearing that. You grinned at him with all your teeth. “Really? That is really good to know. Comforting, even. I did talk to him, yes.”

Taehyung looked into your eyes as his lips spread into a slow, soft smile. “Thank you so much for doing this for me. I thought you would think I was stupid for demanding so much, but…” He shrugged his shoulder, one corner of his lips ticking farther up his cheek. “You made it work. I feel so much better now.”

You exhaled, willing your heart to not beat so fast. It was your job to ensure they were all comfortable, this was part of what you were getting paid for. But somehow, the way Taehyung seemed to have taken it so personally made you not wanna mention the fact in the moment.

Also, he didn’t know how this wouldn’t last. You’d been giving Simon tips to handle himself professionally around Taehyung, literally every single day. It kept the wheel running, but it was tiring both of you out, immensely. Simon was out of his element and you were getting slowly overwhelmed and under-rest due to the amount of responsibilities piling on for you. You were determined to talk this out with your boss, this Sunday, and find a way out before you broke.

Right now, though, you gave Taehyung a bashful smile. “I wanted you to be comfortable and feel good about working on this project, Tae. I am constantly working out plans to better it.”

Taehyung looked at you with so many emotions swimming in his eyes, that the intensity of it almost made you wanna look away. But you didn’t. Instead, you tried to decode what any of it could mean. 

This time the silence between you two was not awkward in the least. It was charged—heavy with this unknown tautness between your mind and heart and this indecipherable look in Taehyung’s eyes.

“Tae?”

The trance was broken by Jin, startling both of you.

He walked into the halfway from behind Taehyung, peering around him with a frown. His eyes widened when he saw you. You immediately bowed, always extremely cautious about being respectful around BTS’ oldest member. “Good morning, Jin-ssi.”

He chuckled at your address, insisting that you didn’t have to bow every single time. “Just the respectful good morning is fine. Did you just get here?”

You nodded, subtly glancing at Taehyung whose eyes were slightly rounded and still stuck on you. Why was he acting like you two were caught by Jin? You’d just been greeting each other and catching up!

Right?

Right.

“Ah! There comes Riya!” Jin suddenly announced the arrival of his partner on your team, cutely waving at someone behind you.

Your teammate Riya walked into the hallway after you, having walked here on her own insistence. “Good morning, Jin-ssi. Taehyung-ssi. Boss.”

You smiled at her, nodding in acknowledgement of the respect she paid. “Where’s Simon?” you questioned.

“Just here!” the man himself responded, rushing in after Riya. 

You met Taehyung’s eyes, and he nodded with a meaningful look and a small smile on his lips. Your heart felt light.

The unexpectedly happy and positive start you’d gotten in the morning lasted with you the whole day, making your time with Jungkook a lot fun, and fulfilling in terms of work, too.

When Sunday came in and you received your boss’ call, her first question was about how well you were settled in the apartments, followed by how you’d handled things with Simon. You had done a decent job on the former, but the latter was gradually turning out to be a pain in your ass. You told your boss as much.

“Drag it out for another week, and then design a change of gameplan. If he really isn’t doing a good enough job by himself, it’s better if he works with someone else. This whole charade will tire both of you out. And V would be facing issues, too, if Simon’s heart isn’t into it.” Your boss had looked at you solemnly through the computer screen.

“Simon’s heart’s a bit too much into it, boss, that’s the whole issue.” You had derisively chuckled at your joke, but her words had left you thinking into the late hours of the night.

Taehyung had definitely been facing issues, you’d heard it from the man himself. And the respite he thought he’d gotten this week was momentary, because neither you nor Simon could honestly keep up with it for too long. And it was very unfair to Taehyung. This book was supposed to showcase a part of all the boys. A biography was the culmination of one’s whole life—something very personal, precious and endearing. The process of its creation should have been a similar experience for the boys, too.

You really would have to assign someone else to Taehyung.

On Monday morning, you knocked at Simon’s door at seven.

“Just this week, and then you switch,” you told him.

“Really? Oh, my God, thank you so much!” Simon cried out.

“Please accommodate him the best you can.” You sighed. “I’m too tired to give you notes everyday. Will you be able to manage?”

“I’ll accommodate him the best I can, just as you said.”

You hadn’t taken his word for it, but it seemed like the knowledge of his misery ending soon had done Simon well. He did a fair job of maintaining his professional composure, and on Tuesday, when you went in to grab a cup of coffee from the kitchen, you saw the two of them laughing about something, too. Taehyung had politely greeted you, exchanging more than a nod for the first time in more than ten days—minus that one altercation in the hallway, of course—and then immediately went back into the discussion.

He seemed to be really into it.

It made you feel a lot better. 

On Friday, you and Jungkook went for a walk by the pool in the late afternoon with a cup of ice cream in your hands. He brought up Taehyung, asking how the elder was doing.

“You told me he was having some trouble with his partner?” Jungook asked, biting into a huge glob of chocolate ice-cream like a maniac and braving the brainfreeze with a straight face.

You grimaced at the sight. Then exhaled, plopping a spoonful from your own ice cream into your mouth. “He’s doing a lot better, now. It might not last, though”

Jungkook, instead of quizzing your ominous statement, nodded in understanding. “Does it have something to do with what I told you about hyung’s personality?”

You sighed. “Pretty much. We might have to change his partner.”

Jungkook paused at that. “Is there a possibility that…” He trailed off, confused, doe eyes looking at you.

You couldn’t lie to him. You shrugged. “Everything’s on the plate.”

On Sunday evening, you decided to gather the team for the call with your boss. Sending them a quick message once you all got home, you hopped into the bathroom for a long, relaxing showe. 

When you came back, you stepped into your office to the welcome sight of your team occupying bean bags and chairs and spread across the entire surface area of the place.

Collectively, you all brought up Taehyung’s partner with the Editor-in-Chief.

“Why don’t you do it, Y/N?” your boss questioned you after the rest of them had briefed her with their progress so far and detailed out their future plans with their assigned boys.

You sighed. “I have been doing just as great as the rest of them, boss. It wouldn’t be ideal for me to stop working with Jungkook after we’ve been making such great progress.”

Your boss took her glasses off, the highlight on her nose glistening as her movement caught light. She shook her and then sighed. “One of you is going to have to make a sacrifice.”

Simon, rightfully, flinched with a guilty face.

“So either you talk one of your team members into doing it, or you do it yourself. You’ve got one whole week to discuss it. Tell me what you decide, next Sunday.”

You kept tossing and turning in your bed. You’d either have to force one of your team members. Or you’d have to disappoint Jungkook. Your prospects really weren't looking good. 

You would like to believe you and Jungkook had become friends in these three weeks. It is impossible to remain a stone-faced stranger with someone literally relaying the story of his entire life to you. And besides that, too, Jungkook was a very likeable guy. He was a curious soul with a myriad of interests. Taking notes on literally every topic would always branch out into an enthusiastic conversation between the two of you. 

Sighing as you recalled how the two of you had shared your roller-skating experience with each other just today, you shut your eyes and decided to finally go to sleep.

On Monday morning, your team members were gathered in your new office to begin with the scripting process of the biography. As you got down to comparing notes and checking off boxes, each one of you resolutely ignored the gigantic elephant in the room—that fact that one of you would not be working with the same person when this week was up.

Strangely, this forcible change of partners was weighing down on all of you not just because of how much more labour it would cost, but on an emotional level, too. Which was a very unfamiliar concept, at least to you. You never got attached to clients, knowing it would only cause hindrances when you had to criticize their work—which was why they were talking to you in the first place. You had been somewhat lucky too, in a way, because it wasn't easy for you to get attached to people.

But Jungkook turned out to be just a really easy person to get along with. You really had become friends.

This, you suddenly realised, would also mean that Jungkook would make friends with another partner just as easily.

“Guys, remember—it’s not just their story that we’re writing, it’s ours too!” you announced to your team, clapping your hands to raise their spirits as the six of them worked on their computers. “They’re the narrators, sure, but we are the writers. Use your words wherever you find fit, do not hesitate to trim, omit or add. This is what we were hired to do.” 

At noon, you all ordered takeout and took a break.

“We’re all really on schedule, boss,” Riya, Jin’s partner, spoke up from her spot across the room from you. Her rounded eyes narrowed suddenly, and she winced. “Well… except Simon, but we kinda already expected that.”

Simon, seated on a bean bag to your immediate right, cleared his throat. “I’m sorry,” he mumbled.

“You’ve been really shitty at your job, Si,” Areum, Jimin’s partner, commented, looking at Simon through her round framed glasses, her face displaying disappointment.

“He really has,” you added. “But it cannot go on like this. You’ll have to be really professional with your partner, this time round, Simon. You’ve really done a lot of damage with Taehyung. Boss won’t just pull you off the project if something like this happens again, she’ll fire you.”

Simon visibly gulped, nodding with his wide eyes fixated on you.

“So, who’s gonna take his place?” Nathan, Yoongi’s partner, butted in, prompting Sana to stop stretching. “Have you decided yet?” he asked you.

You exhaled. “Why not ask dear Simon who he wants to work with? The last time he kept protesting about the assigned choice, and I didn't listen. Maybe he’d have done better if the selection of his partner was voluntarily done by him.”

All eyes turned to Simon. He cleared his throat, looking beyond nervous. “Please don’t put me in this spot. One of you will have to let go of a month’s worth of hard work for me, as it is.”

You looked around the room. “Any one of you willing to switch?”

Five pairs of eyes turned to look at you incredulously. “No one’s gonna willingly give their research up for you, Simon,” Charlotte, the only redhead on your team and Hoseok’s partner, spoke with a roll of her eyes. “None of us.”

“Simon,” You sighed. “Choose.”

And then Simon squeezed his eyes shut and fisted both his hands to whisper, “Jungkook…maybe?”

Of fucking course.

Later that night, you had calmed yourself down enough to tell yourself that everything was gonna be okay. You could be a darn hardass professional when you needed to be. In fact, being humble and empathetic was usually what posed a challenge to you. You would very smoothly transition into working with Taehyung, you were sure of it.

You belatedly thought about how much change these past three weeks had already brought about in your nature. You were starting to show a lot more compassion than you’d thought yourself capable of. That kind of came in this job’s description, because biographies made people vulnerable, and vulnerable interviews required compassion. 

You had to unlearn some of the things you’d picked up over the span of your adult life to save yourself from hurt, and also the guilt that came with hurting others. Jungkook also helped, in a way. His openness and just the overall cheerful vibe that his nature eluded made you want to be more of a friend to him than a writing guide or an interviewer.

You wondered how Taehyung would be. 

There was something undeniably intense and mysterious about him. Now, you weren’t naive enough to want to “unravel” the guy’s mysteries, but you sure were irked and curious. Maybe he was one of those kinds of artists that literally lived in their art.

Back when you didn’t work in this company with this hectic schedule and had enough spare time on your hands to write, you used to pride yourself to be one of these kinds of artists, too. You lived in your stories, kept building characters up wherever you went, whatever you did. You wondered if it was something similar with Taehyung for music. 

You would find out, eventually. There was no point pondering it so much.

Sighing, you turned off your side lamp and decided to retire for the night.

Your writing week was gliding past smoothly. It was just Wednesday, and you all, ahead of the schedule, were at the verge of finishing up your writing parts.

“Are we super efficient or did we sign up for a longer duration of time than needed for this whole project?” Sana questioned, typing away on her laptop.

You snorted. “Or maybe, we didn’t design the blueprint with as much uniformity as we’re required to.”

“You don’t always have to critique everything, boss,” Charlotte, Hoseok’s partner chimed in, flipping her long mane of auburn hair off her shoulder as she shot you a look. 

You glared right back at her. “Uh, actually, I do. That’s kind of my job here.”

You’d been harsher than was needed, making the whole room go quiet. Only the clicking of keyboards echoed around you all for a while.

“Where’s Simon?” Nathan, Yoongi’s partner, asked after some time.

You sighed. “In his room, finishing up his writing work there. He doesn’t feel comfortable sitting between all of us because, and I quote, y’all give off really judgy vibes that fuck with my concentration.”

“That might actually be true,” Areum, Jimin’s partner, mumbled in Korean under her breath.

“Did you mail Manager Woo about the switch yet, boss?” Nathan asked you as you got up to get a refill of your coffee.

You exhaled. “Nope, I'm stalling,” you confidently confessed, leaving the office to make a trip to the kitchen. On your way back, you knocked at Simon’s door before peeking in. “You doing okay?” you asked him flatly.

Simon gave you a nod, not moving his gaze from the laptop screen. You rolled your eyes and came back to the office.

“Should one of us do it? If it won’t look too unprofessional?” Sana asked.

You wrinkled your nose. “It would look grossly unprofessional, Sana.” You pursed your lips as you sat behind your laptop again. “Fine, I’ll do it right now.”

You took a sip from your coffee, and opened your email. This was final, now — no coming back.

You were officially gonna start working with Kim Taehyung.

gimme feedback, much much appreciated!

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Tags: @tangledsparkles​ @hoefortaeshands​ @getmemyfries

[princess-stabbity]

corvidoe replied to your post “hghfhhf there ws this new sitcom playing in the background and i was...”

asdda omg... also "v jenji kohan" is such a simple but poignant descriptor too bc... that's literally all of their shows. you just... watch them for inordinate amounts of time and constantly question WHY but. you just. do. and then you are full of regret lmao

right??? like ive never watched weeds but its such A Signature..... kohan isn’t the showrunner for glow but i think shes executive producer and the other day i was rewatching the episode that broke me and i finally noticed that she wrote it and i was like “ohhhhhhhhhh” 

[itsthemoofacewriting]

The way she’s pulling you in

Good grief. I am the biggest pervert. Look away children, this is explicit.

It all came from my other story where I, on the spot, created a headcanon that Sanji would most definitely have a wank bank and it would be overflowing with Nami. (The other story isn’t posted yet, but it’s on the way and has nothing to do with this btw)

Summary: Nami was seductive, alluring, the sexiest person he’d ever seen in his life. He wasn’t proud, but it helped him in his private moments when it was just him and his hand. Rating: M. NSFW. 

This can also be found on AO3 and FFN. 

Enjoy!

Nami was seductive, alluring, the sexiest person he’d ever seen in his life. He wasn’t proud, but it helped him in his private moments when it was just him and his hand. NSFW.

Explicit, wank bank, sexual fantasies, masturbating, accidental exhibitionism, kinda, Sanji’s ridiculously attracted to Nami but what’s new, look at these tags, there is shame this time

Title: Wish you were here, With her sweetened breath, I take a moment, In the shape of you, Made your mark on me, The way that she’s pulling you in, I want to taste her lips,

The pantry was his safe haven.

He was pretty sure the crew forgot it even existed most of the time, but that was because it was tiny, cramped and didn’t hold anything of interest. However, for him, in those… private moments, it was ideal. The toilet never an option because someone always wanted to use it and he liked to take his time. So, all he had to do was wait for Luffy’s second snack of the night and he was out like a light. It worked like clockwork.

Which was exactly how he found himself towards the back of the pantry on a little stool between the bags sugar and flour, already palming himself through the material of his trousers. He was particularly desperate today; it’d been a while since he’d been able to do this and Nami had been particularly sexy today walking around in a skimpy white bikini. It’d been a feast for the eyes. Paired with the way he was sure she was touching him more, hanging around him more and this was well overdue.

To be fair, all she had to do was breath and it was too much for him.

He’ll be honest, he wasn’t sure how he held it together, but all he knew was he didn’t have to now as he undid his belt, zipper and shimmied his trousers down to his ankles. There was already a wet spot on the front of his underwear.

The first touch was bliss and he had to hold himself back from going too fast, already too desperate but unwilling for it to be over that quickly. The second touch and he was picturing Nami from today, in the white skimpy bikini and what laid beneath it. He already knew what did, the image haunted him in the best way possible. Perky, creamy breasts with dusty pink nipples that was wanted to bury his head in between and worship like they deserved to be.

That train of thought led to an outfit that made her breasts look phenomenal, whilst also putting them at risk of spilling out at any moment. But it wasn’t just her breasts though; it was her whole body. The present from the people of Zou, who he never got a chance to thank for blessing him with that view. The purple dress.

He wasn’t even sure if she had the purple dress anymore, but a man could dream, and he certainly did. The way it’d hung on her, draped over all her curves, and teased him from the low cut that showed off her breasts so well to the high cut that displayed long creamy legs and revealed that she definitely wasn’t wearing underwear underneath. It was a heart stopping dress, one that made him want to do naughty things with her. More than normal.

He couldn’t remember how many times he’d done this with the image of her in that dress. Countless times, to the point that he was wondering if it was a kink at that this stage. He knew if she ever wore it again, he’d cream his pants there and then.

Using slow, steady stokes had been abandoned the moment he thought about that purple dress, and he had to bite back the gasp when his hand circled the head of his cock, pre cum already oozing out.

And as his hand pumped down to the base, squeezing slightly as he got lost in his daydream, with the thought of just Nami melting away into him and Nami fooling around in the cramped pantry instead.

He’d be in the same spot, but instead she’d be gathered on his lap, straddling him, and so close that he wouldn’t be able to see anything other than her. He’d kiss down the soft skin of her neck as he uttered sweet nothings into her skin, drinking in her gasps.

She’d roll her hips into his and all her bashfulness would disappear at the stiffness in his trousers, instead replaced by a seductive look that promised naughty things. It made him feel heady.

He imagined the way her lithe hands would feel over his cock, the silk of her hands contrasting against the callouses she’d have acquired over the years, the press of her breasts against his chest but mostly, the steamy lidded look she’d give him. He’d seen it time and time again whenever she wanted something, but this would be genuine, filled with desire for him and only him. She’d pant his name in a breath and it would play over his face teasingly.

His hands would be free to roam, along supple thighs to her rounded behind. She’d gasp when he gave it an appreciative caress, but it would be nothing compared to when he got his hands on her breasts. He’d tease her nipples, bringing them to a point, and then roll them between his thumb and finger. Her hand would stutter over his cock, but that’d be fine because the sound of her breathy gasp of his name would be more than enough.

Sanji threw his head back, thumping against the wall of the pantry, gasping and the room was filled with the wet sound of his hand moving over his cock. His hand glided with how much pre-cum there was, almost no friction, and he imagined that’d be her wetness instead, all over his hands from working her up and then his cock as he slid into her.

He’d have her on her back, so he could watch her breasts bounce as he thrusted into her again and again. But it would be nothing compared to her face, the flush across her cheeks, the tears building in the corner of her eyes at the pleasure he brought her and the way she’d be tumbling over her words, between moaning and calling out for him. The way she’d tell him how good he made her feel.

There was no rhythm anymore, his hand moving frantically over his cock as his thoughts turned filthier by the second, his other hand going to cup his balls, rolling them as pleasure shot through his back and a heaviness settled in his stomach. He wouldn’t last much longer; he could feel himself winding tighter and tighter, ready to snap at any moment.

It certainly didn’t help when he then thought about her sitting on his face, a thought always saved towards the end because there was nothing that turned him on more than the thought of tasting her or bringing her the utmost pleasure. His view would be partially blocked but he’d be smothered in all her glory, thighs cushioned either side of his head as he gave her a front row seat to a toe-curling orgasm. She could roll her hips however she wanted as his hands on her behind encouraged her to find the best angle and he’d be buried in her-

“Nami-san!” He called out, unable to hold it in any longer, his hand moving furiously, and this was it.

And it almost was it, until he heard footsteps from the kitchen.

“Sanji-kun?” His heart stopped. The voice he’d been imagining just moments ago, but much breathier, more desperate than this real-life version calling out to him.  

No. No. No.

The door to the pantry cracked open. “What are you do-” Her voice trailed off as she took in the dishevelled state of Sanji.

It was like a nightmare. To his utmost horror, there was the object of his affections, the lead star in his dirtiest daydreams, stood at the door looking back at him. She wouldn’t be able to see everything from that angle, but she’d be able to piece it together and he watched it happen in slow motion.

As she took in his state, from the flushed cheeks to his rumpled clothing, her confusion melted into understanding. Her eyes widened, face flushing in embarrassment and mouth agape from the shock. It was a far cry from the lusty one he’d been imagining just moments ago.

And all he could do was gape at her in disbelief. Hands still down his pants and his dick had never been more confused; unsure whether to deflate from pure embarrassment or stay standing strong because the very reason for his arousal was right in front of him. In a skimpy top that didn’t help his dilemma either.

It was abundantly clear what he was doing in the middle of the night, and there was no way she didn’t not hear him just call out for her. So, there they were, both distinctly aware that he had been masturbating and to the to the thought of her no less. Great.

She seemed to come alive then, the shock subsiding. “Oh, oh! I should’ve- you’re-” her scattered speech and hand gesture in his direction was mortifying. That she was referencing it, he wished the ground would open up and swallow him whole.  

He’d never seen her so flustered.

“Nami-” he strained out, trailing off because he hadn’t figured out how that sentence was going to end before he’d started speaking. But he had to say something. Do something.  

“No, no!” She said, voice sounding panicked, and her eyes were now intent on looking around the room, at everything other than him, which was concerning but a relief at the same time. “It’s my fault… I shouldn’t have barged in. I… should’ve knocked?”

Oh god.

There was a long silence, and he was still tongue tied. At this point he had no idea how he was still looking at her.

“I’m just-” she pointed into the kitchen, now looking down at the box of coffee opposite her. “I’ll see you in the morning,” she squeaked and then she was gone. He heard her hurried footsteps across the kitchen floor, door flinging open and closing with a loud slam.

Then there was only silence. He was alone again.

His hand still on his dick, which was now half hard from the mixed signals but holding on like a trooper. He was nowhere near as turned on as he had been before and now that she knew, he couldn’t do it, couldn’t possibly finish now without feeling anything other than shame.

What had he done?

The next morning at breakfast, neither could look at the other.

-----------------------------

Welp. What do I even say? This idea just wouldn’t leave me alone and it was so easy to write! Which probably doesn’t help my case here.

Just to add whilst I drown in my sins, my friend Ray started a SaNami discord group. It’s a chill place to chat and share your love for this pairing. If you’d like to join, message me on here or twitter and I’ll send you the link. Please feel free to join, the more the merrier!

Please excuse any errors.

Thanks for reading (this filth).

[gabywantsafriend]

Anything For You: Ferris Bueller x Reader

(Kinda my gif??? Idk I found it online but I originally posted it on here)

Requested by anonymous:  ferris bueller realizing he loves the reader maybe?

I’m so sorry it took such a long time to post another imagine! I hope you guys enjoy it :’)

Warning: Swearing

“Adams?” “Here.”

“Adamley?” “Here!”

“Adamowski?” A rather lazy hand was raised, indicating the student’s presence. 

“Adamson?” “Here.”

“Adler?” The response was delayed by a couple of seconds. “Here.”

“Anderson?” Another delayed response. “Anderson?” “Here!” 

“Bueller?” 

Nothing. You quickly scanned the room, he wasn’t there. You hadn’t even noticed that he didn’t walk in that morning. You looked at Cameron and he shrugged. Apparently he didn’t know what Ferris was up to or where he was. “Bueller?” Crickets. “Bueller?” Dead silence. “Bueller?” The teacher’s monotonous voice began to sound like a broken record player. 

You cleared your throat as you tried impersonating the missing troublemaker, letting out a low “Here.” The class snickered, causing your teacher to silence everyone. Turning to you, he huffed. 

“L/n, I know you and Bueller are best friends but you really don’t have to cover for him in his absence. You’ll get your turn in the roll call later, don’t get too excited,” He went on with checking the attendance. You stubbornly sank into your seat, eyeing the vacant one next to you where Ferris was usually sat. What kind of trouble do you have in mind this time?

--------

Recess rolled in and you were standing at the phone booth just outside of your school. You dialed Ferris’ home number and waited for him to pick up. He was probably out on another one of his spontaneous adventures.

“Hello?” His voice was nasally,  he was always good at playing sick. 

“Oh, cut the crap. Where the hell are you, idiot? This is your tenth absence this semester, you said you didn’t wanna miss school after last time! No wonder your grades are shit! What are you up to now?” You scolded. Skipping class to hang out and be teenagers was fun the first few times. However as it became a habit of Ferris, you wished he could take school more seriously.

“Y/n, calm down. First of all, I could easily hack into the school’s computer system and change my grades,” He coughed. “Second, I’m not kidding this time. I’m actually sick.” You scoffed, muttering a small “yeah right.” 

Of course, you found it hard to believe. You’ve known Ferris Bueller since you were ten. And you knew that it took a lot for him to be ill. 

“Why would I ever lie to you? I’m serious,” he deadpanned. You sighed and pinched the bridge of your nose. “Alright, I’ll bring today’s assignments for you and I’ll visit you as soon as class ends.” You could practically hear him smile through the phone as he spoke. “Thanks, Y/n. You’re the best.” You bid goodbye as he did the same, both of you putting down the phone.

Well, what do you know. For the first time in a long time, Ferris Bueller was sick.

--------

You dropped your bike right in front of the Buellers residence and sprinted to the back door. You lifted the rug and took the spare key that Katie Bueller left in case of emergencies or whenever you wanted to visit. You were always welcome. Unlocking the door, you bolted up the steps and stopped in front of the door to your best friend’s room..

“Ferris, you better not be naked. I’m coming in.” 

“Hi, Y/n.” The sight was beyond pitiful: The floor was littered with used tissues. Bottles of medicine decorated his dresser. And on the bed was a very pale boy, sniffling and shivering still even under the many layers of blankets he was covered in. Oh, Ferris.

“You look like shit.” He let out a weak chuckle. “It’s nice seeing you too,” he quipped. You rolled your eyes at his untimely use of sarcasm and pressed the back of your hand to his forehead.

“Jesus, you’re practically steaming,” You commented, getting up to fetch him an ice pack to hopefully lower his temperature. “I’m flattered, Y/n. I really am. But can you keep it in your pants until after I get well?” You were used to his foul-mouthed jokes by now. “Very funny, loser. Now put this on your forehead,” You handed him the cold material and he obeyed, hissing as it touched his skin. 

“Oh, right! I got the homework for you,” you told him, getting your bag and pulling out his books and assessment sheets and laying them on his desk. “I also wrote an extra copy of the notes you missed,” You handed him the pages that you’ve ripped from your notebook where the duplicates were. His eyes, teary from his cold, widened.

“Wha-? But I just asked for you to get today’s assignments! You didn’t have to go an extra mile with taking my notes for me!” He took the papers gratefully, flipping through them. “I’m convinced you’re my guardian angel or some shit! Thank you so much!”

“Anything for you.” 

It was true. You’d gladly and endlessly do anything for him.

You’ve liked Ferris since you first covered for him in fifth grade. 

Young Ferris thought it’d be a good idea to chuck a bouncy ball at Mrs. Ritland, the math teacher you had all despised. Believe it or not, he was an even bigger idiot back when you were ten. She was writing on the chalkboard, back turned to you; the perfect time to strike. The small toy hit the poor lady’s nape. The classroom was suddenly filled with gasps and the sound of laughter. She exclaimed in pain, rage-filled eyes darting from student to student. Before she could even question which delinquent threw the damned thing, you stood up and raised your hand. 

“I did it, Mrs. Ritland!”

Ferris was quick to defend you, chucking another bouncy ball at the woman. “If you even think of punishing her, you’ll have to go through me!”

You were both given a month’s detention and have been inseparable ever since. 

“I’m dying,” He croaked, snapping you out of your daydream.

“Oh, please. You’re not dying. You just can’t think of anything good to do!” You quoted him. “Didn’t you say that yourself?” 

He groaned, “Yes, I did say that myself. But now isn’t the time. I’m really not feeling well, Y/n.”

“Nonsense! It helped Cameron last time, he felt great afterwards.” You got off the bed, trying to pull him up with you. Instead, he snuggled deeper into the covers. “Aww, come on! Get up on your feet, mister! What do you feel like doing today? The weather’s lovely! Maybe we can go swimming? Or perhaps you’d like to go to the arcade? Ooh, street food sounds good! Just tell me where you wanna go, and I’ll take you there!” You coaxed excitedly.

“As much as I love our adventures, I was thinking maybe we could just stay here? You know, we could talk for a while and we can take a nap together just like when we were kids. And when I’m feeling better, we could watch a movie,” Ferris spoke softly, sniffling right after. You hummed, considering his offer.

“You can stay here and rest. I can get us some corn dogs from the stand nearby, I’ll be quick I promi-”

“No, no, you missed my point,” he shook his head, grinning at your stubbornness. “I meant can you stay? We don’t have to go anywhere. I enjoy your company, it’s more than enough,” He pulled the blankets to his nose, hiding his bashful smile as well as his growing blush. You were sure you would have melted then and there.

“Sure thing. Ferris.” You adored this boy.

It had been an hour since you’d agreed to stay in with Ferris and you were seated at his desk, tutoring him about trigonometric functions, a lesson he missed that day. He was reading the notes on the topic, following along with what you were saying. “Okay, I found this to be quite easy. So, we start off with the basics: sine, cosine, and tangent-”

At least, that’s what it looked like.

At first glance, it seemed as though he was actually studying. But what you didn’t know was that he had been admiring your handwriting and your little doodles on the blank spaces of the paper. 

See, Ferris liked you. He’s liked you since forever ago. He remembered the moment so vividly, as if it only happened yesterday. 

“I did it, Mrs. Ritland!”

He looked at you and thought, “Wow, that is the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen.” Obviously, he couldn’t let a pretty girl such as you take the blame for what a stupid boy such as him had done. It just wasn’t fair to you. So he immediately admitted that it was his fault, as he should.

He felt guilty that you had to get wrapped up in this mess and had to suffer the consequences. To make up for it, every time you had detention, he would take you to secret hideouts around the school. That two months of running around school trying not to get caught marked your first of soon-to-be-many adventures. 

And now here you were, almost eight years later, helping him solve for x. His eyes softened at how into it you were while teaching him. You were even more beautiful than when you were a kid, just when his younger self thought you couldn’t get any more stunning. 

He thought about how you were kind enough to fill him in on everything he’d missed; how as soon as class was dismissed, you biked as quickly as you could just to take care of him. You could have easily ditched him to go out and get those corn dogs you’ve been craving; or you could have easily gone out for a walk since, according to you, “the weather’s lovely.” 

But you didn’t. 

You stayed. 

The mere thought of that, along with everything about you, caused his heart to pound out of his chest. 

I think I’m in love with her. Fuck that. I am in love with her.

“...And that explains why sine 90° is equivalent to 1. What the-? Ferris Bueller, are you even listening?” You waved a hand in front of his face, still not responding. He looked as if his mind was somewhere completely different. “Hello? Earth to Ferris?” He blinked a few times, shaking his head. He whispered something you didn’t quite catch. “What?” He whispered again. “I can’t hear you, pal. Speak up.” 

“I love you. There, I said it.” You were at a loss for words as your eyes met. Both of you progressively got redder by the second.

“What in the right mind made you say that?” Confusion was evident in your voice, as well as nervousness. 

“I’ve loved you for a while now and when you dropped everything to visit me today, I realized how deep I’ve fallen,” Ferris bashfully stated. He could be cheesy at times but you thought it was cute.

“Woah, you are such a fucking sap,” You both burst into laughter, him scoffing and clutching his chest in mock offense. “I love you too, you dingus.”

His heart fluttered as you said it. The mix of his sickness and your confession made him lightheaded. You plopped down on his bed, hugging him tightly. “Wait, what are you doing? You’re too close, I’m gonna get you sick!” He asked as you kissed his nose. 

You got under the covers with him, rolling your eyes, “You think I still care? I fucking love you for Christ’s sake!” You made him laugh at that. “How about that nap you suggested earlier, hmm?”

He closed his eyes, the biggest grin still plastered on his face. “She loves me,” being the last thought in his head before contently falling asleep.

[readerinsertfanfiction]

Midsummer Texts

Fandom: Yu-Gi-Oh

Characters: Yugi Muto & Yami Yugi

Prompt: Yugi has a crush but has no idea how to talk to her. Yami offers to chat with Yugi’s crush over text. Confusion and chaos ensues as feelings go wayward.

A/N: This is so long overdue, and I’m so sorry! OTL

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3| Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 

Love was selfish, you realised. Not in the way that you wished for all of his attention to be trained upon you, but in the way that it refused to fade away as you tried to forget about one set of feelings and cultivate another. What was it that made it so impossible? What was it that made it so hard for you to prefer one twin over the other?

They had the same magenta coloured eyes, the same strangely shaped hair. Somewhere they also held similar aesthetics, kinda dark, rather broodish, on edge. Yet you found that with one the style fit better than with the other. Yet your eyes drifted over to their differences and your heart lamented that it wasn’t the other.

“[Name]?” Tea forced herself into your line of vision, concern clearly written on her face as her expression fell. You noticed that she did that a lot as of late, her clear blue eyes suddenly not as sparkling anymore, a dull pain hidden behind that caring smile she threw at you.

You realised that it had been a while since you had last asked her how she was doing. You realised that, as of late, it had all been about you, how you were doing, how you were coping. It left a wry taste in your mouth, knowing how concerned Tea whilst dealing with her own problems.

“I’m fine,” you respond, a smile gracing your features that you knew didn’t quite reach your eyes, “just a lot on my mind,” you continued, but didn’t want to fill in the thought with more. Tea just left it at that, a smile returning into your direction.

“What about you?” you reach out, genuinely concerned as you once more see her expression drop. Blinking back at you she smiles, the frown from earlier disappearing as she lets go of a smile.

“Oh, nothing, just worried about that chemistry test.” Rubbing her forehead the female faked a smile for you, though the fatigue in her expression was there, her eyes not as bright as they usually were, not as lively either. You knew better than to press on, however, and you let it go.

Love was selfish in another way. In the way that it demanded your attention and made you neglect your friends. It wasn’t only Tea who seemed forlorn and distracted, something was wrong with Yami as well.

Sigh after sigh, and then a pensive expression. It was clear to all that something was bothering the man, but none who could pull it out of him. None that he could look at without guilt washing over, at least.

“[Name]!” Yugi called out, his smile bright, his eyes even brighter, and his feet nearly floating him over to your side, “so, we’re still on for after school?” he inquires and Yami raises a brow as you throw the younger brother a lopsided grin.

“Yes! I will wait for you in the cafeteria, okay? That way we can head back together,” you beam back at the other.

Yami wasn’t sure what had changed in you, but he threw you a quiet smile when you grinned at him, almost as if you were seeking his approval. How could he not give it when you were obviously so excited? When it involved his brother?

It didn’t sit well with him, however. Your words from your shared class still sounded through his mind, that smile that you had flashed him afterwards. Nothing sat well with him, eyes flitting between you and his brother as he tried to make out the why and the how.

“We’re going to review in the library,” Yugi informs his brother, an apologetic smile crossing his lips as he rubs the back of his head. “I forgot to tell you, it was sorta sudden,” the male continues sheepishly, a bashful look throwin into the older twin’s direction.

Yami was once more unsure of how to feel about that, gulping as he forced a smile on his own face, a silent thumbs up raised towards his brother.

From the way you avoided his eyes Yami supposed that you truly were working hard in giving Yugi a chance, albeit a bit reluctantly.

Love was selfish and you hoped that it would swallow itself up.

The thought of being alone with Yugi brought a fair share of anxiety. A strange feeling and thought, for the male had never confessed to you, not directly at least. It made the knowledge that you held all the more strange. As if something had gone out of order, as if you had seen the future somehow.

It was clear that, whatever subtlety and discretion the two of them possessed, it was certainly not romantically inclined. Not in the way Yugi’s expression adorably brightened when he saw you, nor in the way he enthusiastically waved as he tried to cross the road without looking out for the traffic. He was lucky that the car managed to stop with a sounding screech of the brakes, though the curses that followed were startling enough as Yugi coloured red, embarrassed and shamed thoroughly when he finally reached you.

“Ah, that was so uncool,” he laments to himself as he lets himself fall into a seat, you just grimace back, feeling the second hand embarrassment along with the pain.

“Let’s leave quickly then, so that we can spare you any further shame,” you propose and Yugi eagerly accepts, picking up his bag as he is quick to exit the cafe in which you had waited for him. You supposed that would be one place to avoid in the future.

“You surprised me,” Yugi says once you are in the crowd, his hands clenching the handles of his bag, twitchy as he was at the prospect of being alone with you.

“How so? Wasn’t it the car that startled you more?” you retort in a tease, earning a pout from the male as he puffs out some air, clearly not liking to be reminded before he straightens himself up, suddenly a whole lot solemn than before.

“I know you like Yami, you know.”

The admission is curt, even a little hurt and you freeze as you eye your friend, an invisible hand clamouring around your heart as it clenched and quenched, leaving you breathless. “How?” you mutter out, realising that the question in itself is an admission of itself, panic coursing through you as you try to fix yourself.

“I mean, why would you say that?” you blurt out to correct yourself, though you feel that you are too dazed to really register the answer, your thoughts going a mile per hour as you try to piece together the when and what and…

From Yugi’s expression you can tell that there is no denying anymore. From his expression you can tell that the male had already figured it out.

“He was trying to hide it,” Yugi explains with a shrug, eyes turning towards you in an uncharacteristic bold declaration, “I suppose it is also my rival instinct,” he smiles, and around the corner of his lips you can read how it pains him, to have his older twin be his rival at every turn.

Subtlety and discretion might have been superficial traits that belonged to the Mutou brothers, but it definitely didn’t apply to romances, you found. The twins were too finely attuned to one another for that. Too aware of what the other thought without needing a glance. It was what made games between the two of them so interesting, as they read and read each other until it all came down to who pulled the right cards first.

“I’m sorry, Yugi,” you try, but are halted by the male, his smile back to shy again as he shakes his head, making clear that it isn’t pity that he wants, nor sympathy.

“Your feelings aren’t your fault, and I would be happy to stay as friends,” Yugi speaks, his fingers twiddling with each other as he returns to his own usual bashful state. “I just hope that you might see me as someone worth their own person?”

The request, so simple, gave you a whole new perspective, a new realisation dawning upon you as you eye the male, flabbergasted, out of words, but calm. The anxiety of earlier had left, the grip on your heart released and you felt yourself deflate, a smile forming on your lips as you can’t help but to release another sigh.

[miss-tc-nova]

In The Moment - Neku Sakuraba x Reader

Not gonna lie, this one was hard. Between hectic life, writer’s block, and abandoning my first idea, I really struggled coming up with something good and I’m still not 100% on this one but it is long overdue. Thank you, anon, for patiently waiting for me and thank you for bringing me back to a fandom/game that I truly love. 

~~~~~

              Today is proving to be simply perfect. After mulling over ideas for weeks, going through all the necessary channels, and hours of tedious prep, I’m going to start my final art project today.

              Stepping back, I take one last look at the two-story building that will serve as my canvas. With my paint all prepped, the rarely-used road blocked off, my favorite music blasting in my ears, and perfect weather, I begin hurling balloons at the blank wall. It takes only a few balloons before I’m entirely engrossed in my own little world of music and art. The stone wall is already livelier with a handful of pink, blue, green, and yellow splats.

              In my own little paradise, I bounce towards my bucket of ammo. Another balloon rolls in my hand while my groove has consumed me. I turn back to my canvas, launching the paint.

              My heart stops. The balloon soars through the air in what feels like painful slow motion, inching ever closer towards its unsuspecting victim. It’s like a horror scene watching the projectile make contact with his face, molding against it before the rubber skin breaks. A wave of pink paint bursts forward, crashing down on the poor boy before the actual impact takes him to the ground.

              Hand to my mouth, I gape at the casualty before my senses snap back to me. Ripping my headphones out and snatching up a towel, I rush towards him.

              “Oh my god, I’m so sorry! Are you okay?!”

              Sitting up, he pulls down his headphones and rubs the paint from his eye. “What the hell?” He looks down at the smear across his hand. “What happened?”

              I push the towel into his hand. “You kinda got caught in the crossfire.”

              His orange brows scrunch together. “Crossfire?”

              “Yeah. I’m working on an art project and you walked right in the middle of it.” My hand waves to the dripping wall.

              More in awe than anger—which I found surprising—he stands up to look at my work. “An art project? Isn’t it illegal to tag buildings like this?”

              “One, it’s not a tag, it’s a project. Two, this building is scheduled for demolition, so I got permission from the city; that’s why I blocked the road off. Didn’t you notice?”

              We look back at the “road closed” signs.

              “Oh…No...” he mutters.

              “Hmm, maybe I should’ve put some on the sidewalks.”

              My gaze turns back on my victim. Beneath the neon color sprayed across the side of his head is a wild flay of orange hair and fair skin. His cloudy-sky eyes are outstanding, somehow lending themselves to the bright interest despite how soothingly cool they appear. I’d be clearly amiss if I didn’t admit that he’s cute.

              “Sorry for getting in the way.”

              He’s looking at me, and by the time I realize it, I feel my skin alight at the thought he caught me staring into his eyes.

              “I’m sorry you’re…pink,” I reply. “I might be able to save your headphones but I don’t think your shirt’s gonna make it.”

              He tugs at his shirt, a corner of his lips pulling back in disappointment. “At least it wasn’t my favorite, I guess.”

              There’s something strange about this guy, like he doesn’t quite know how normal people react; most people would be upset after being covered in paint and having their clothes ruined, regardless of whether or not it was their fault. However, next to this unusual naivety is the light of someone completely open, someone out to actually see the world for what it is. This is someone I want to understand, to aspire to be like.

              The words leave my mouth before I can even think about them.

              “Do you wanna join me?” I’m an idiot.

              “Huh?”

              The idiocy continues when I jam a thumb towards my buckets of supplies. “You’re already covered in paint. Why don’t you join me? It’ll be fun.” I pull this innocent kid towards the paint station, reaching into the bucket to plop an orb into his hand. “Here.”

              He glances between me, the balloon, and the wall. “Are you sure? I might ruin your project.”

              I grin. “You can’t ruin arbitration that easily. Besides, the whole point of this part is to just make a mess. So go on, throw it.”

              He shrugs and tosses the balloon against the stone where it breaks.

              “There you go!” I pick up another balloon, flinging it across the road.

              School projects aren’t traditionally fun, but I was having a blast with this school project from the start; with the guy—who introduced himself as Neku—helping me out, this might be the most fun I’ve ever had in my life. He genuinely puts his heart into simply throwing balloons, like a bubbling stream of inspiration, spurring my inspiration and turning this project on its head.

              My hand meets the bottom of the bucket—an empty bucket. “Damn. All out of balloons.”

              Neku looks up at the dripping wall. “Yeah, but I’m pretty sure there’s at least three layers of paint here. Might’ve been overkill.”

              “I had to make sure there was enough to cover every brick. Better too much than not enough in this case,” I say, starting to pick up scraps of scattered rubber.

              He helps me collect the garbage. “So is this all there is to this project? Hurl paint at walls?”

              “No, this is the background set up. Later, I’m gonna get some spray paint and do the more tedious work later.”

              “What was even the point of this project?”

              “Well, it’s an art project so…a good grade, first off. Second…” I pause to really think about how to word it. “I guess I really wanted to capture the spontaneity of life. That every moment can be a bright and colorful splat.” Neku chuckles, bringing out a more bashful side. “I guess that makes it pretty obvious who my role model is, huh? But I try to remind myself every day: Enjoy every moment-”

              “-with all you’ve got.” Neku finishes my sentence with an all-knowing grin.

              Even if the embarrassment burns between my shoulders, I can’t help laughing. “Is it too obvious where my inspiration came from?”

              “If it’s any consolation, I’m sure CAT would approve of your methods.”

              “That actually makes me really happy.” I look back at the mess I hope to turn into something incredible. “CAT’s art that got me through some tough times; I’d love to be able to inspire people someday the same way CAT’s art inspired me.”

              My brain short circuits. For a split-second while, I attempt to process what just happened, all I can feel is buzzing just beneath the skin. A hand reaches up to brush the spot he’d grazed but the fingers come away with pink paint. Neku, on the other hand, stands there, avoiding eye contact, a different shade of pink peeking out from beneath the paint across his face.

              “What-…” I can’t even come up with the words to finish my question.

              His face still blushing, he gives me a warm smile. “Just living in the moment.”

              The buzz surges into my chest, crashing against my heart with a wave of happiness. Building up my courage, I follow his lead.

              “Would your moment object if we maybe extended it by a couple hours?” A brow arches in question. “Tomorrow, six o’clock? Maybe with less paint?”

              When he understands, he shrugs. “Less, more, I’m sure it’ll be fun either way.”

              “Great.” Lifting my phone, I snap a picture of the paint-riddled kid.

              “What was that for?”

              “Your picture for my contacts,” I reply. “I assume you’ll be giving me your number, right?”

              He smirks. “Nah, I’ll just walk down the street and wait to get pelted with more paint balloons.”

              “So you’re gonna ignore more traffic signs?”

              The simper is marred with a laugh. “Worked the first time.”

              I shove my phone into his hands. “Don’t push your luck, buddy. You already got the date.”

              We swap numbers and clean up the rest of the remnants scattered about. I’m sure he can tell how reluctant I am to say goodbye, but we inevitably do and part ways. Once I’m sure he’s around the corner and out of sight, I literally jump for joy like a child on Christmas.

              My entire plan for the afternoon was to work on my project—taking into account both prep and clean up. I had absolutely nothing else in the books for today. Never in a million years would I have guessed that, in the midst of my work, an artsy accident would end up with a spontaneous date. I know my adopted motto says to enjoy the present, but tomorrow just cannot come fast enough.

[nooneactuallyasked]

Diner Gal - Reggie x Reader Part 11

Requested: It’s a series, enough said-

Word count: 1,845

Warnings: No that I know of, but please let me know if there is anything!!

Summary: Julie and the Phantoms ( + Flynn ) go to a musical diner/café/restaurant for inspiration and hopefully a future gig but they end up meeting a very special waitress.

Note: So, I didn’t intend to have a 3-month break but here we are-

I am so sorry but at the same time I needed to put my mental health, schoolwork and future first, so I’m also not sorry? Anyway, I’m back with a new part so my exams can actually try me- Enjoy! (Can’t remember if I’ve used this gif but who cares)

Part 1 here   Part 2 here   Part 3 here   Part 4 here   Part 5 here   

Part 6 here   Part 6.5 here   Part 7 here   Part 8 here   Part 9 here   

Part 10 here

---

Y/N sat on a stool at the counter in Le Paradis du Chanteur, a broom leant against the edge. She played with a pen whilst staring down at blank pages of her notebook, her whole body felt heavy and she couldn’t will herself to do anything, the truth had hit her full force like a bright red truck with flashing neon signs that read ‘Caution! Heartbreak!’. She knew she didn’t love him; it was too soon for that but it didn’t stop the aching feeling of knowing all of her options were really only one option: let him go. No matter how selfish Y/N wanted to be she knew that it wasn’t fair to any of them, she wasn’t heartless or ignorant, she knew what accepting Caleb’s offer would do and she refused to take the easy way out.

She would much rather a future alone and without Reggie in it, knowing that he’s safe and happy than condemn him to a life he never wanted, well afterlife but the sentiment stayed the same. Plus, it wasn’t just Reggie, there was Luke and Alex too and they would have to suffer through the consequences of her choice just as much as Reggie would. It wasn’t fair. Y/N sighed and put the pen down on the paper, her chair scraping against the floor as she got up and walked over to the office, staring at the drawer that withheld her chance, her hope. With a slight sigh, she found the courage to open the it and hold the contract in her hands.

Reggie would rip it for you if he were in the same situation.

So, she did, she closed her eyes and did it.

She ripped it.

A blinding light filled the room, a warm sensation wrapped itself around her fingers, growing until it was so unbearably hot that she dropped the ripped pieces of paper, almost instantly the light faded and the heat from before waned into a fuzzy tingling in the tips of her fingers. Y/N hesitantly opened her eyes and saw the contract on the floor, singed along the rip lines. A dark purple mark was burned into the paper, the lines disintegrated and spread across the paper until there was nothing left but thin streaks of ash on the floor. She did it. She really did it, she let him go. All that was left was to wait until the end of the Friday event and then live out the rest of her life as if she’d never heard of Julie and the Phantoms.

Easier said than done but Y/N was determined. If she could take on an evil ghost magician, she could handle pretty much anything.

---

“And that’s kinda what happened, I guess…”

“Y/N, you’re like one of those really cool superheroes whose origin story is like, the saddest but coolest thing of all time: A waitress who was looking for more in her life than just scrubbing tables comes to find she can communicate with ghosts, specifically three incredibly handsome, cool and charming musicians who teach her there’s more to life than work. Then, the bad guy comes in and messes everything up, though we do have to mention he has amazing food at his ghost joint, but because the waitress is so cool, she saves herself and the three ghosts. But the hero always has to have someone die or sacrifice something, like Cal, sad really. The end!”

Y/N slumped, a terrible sludge-like feeling eating her up inside. She had totally forgotten about Cal, assuming the boys hadn’t found Cal a way out, she had pretty much just sacrificed any chance at freedom he would ever get. Sighing, Y/N looked up to meet Reggie’s questioning gaze who quickly turned pale with realisation, “Oh- sorry, I guess that would still be a sore subject, and you know what, I’ll just stop talking now…”  She forced out a chuckle which quickly faded into a sad smile, her gaze turning toward the floor “It’s okay, Reggie. I know you didn’t mean it like that, I just wish there was more I could do…I feel useless, like I can’t save him, I can’t even get credible information sources to even start to help him. I just, I wish I could do more.” Y/N let out a breath, looking back up at Reggie, “Sorry, that was a lot, huh?”

Reggie bit the inside of his cheek, his brows furrowing, “I just had an idea, I’m not sure if it would work but it’s the best I’ve got.” Y/N’s eyes widened, “Well anything is better than nothing, I’m all ears.”

“Right, so when we performed at the Orpheum we were marked by Caleb, we would either have to join him or disappear for probably forever. After the show we went back to Julie’s garage and she hugged Luke, they started it glowing, it was really weird but awesome too, and so we joined in and we glew, glowed? Glowed, glew? Whatever, we did it too and the marks just disappeared. What if she could do that for Cal? Sorry it’s the best I have, I’m not all that great at-” Y/N wrapped her arms around him in the tightest hug she could muster, “You’re a genius, thank you so much!” Reggie chuckled awkwardly, “It might not even work, and even if it did, I wouldn’t have done anything much to help, it’d be all Julie.” She shook her head, a slightly watery smile on her face, “Leather Boy, you’re the humblest person I know, and that’s probably not a good thing. You’ve helped me so much; you’ve done so much more than I ever could, I don’t think I would even have had the courage to rip the contract if it weren’t for you. Thank you so much, Reggie. You’re the most amazing person I’ve ever met and I don’t know what I would do without you.”

“Thanks, Diner Gal, that means a lot.” She grinned, desperately trying to get rid of the depressing atmosphere, “Everything I say means a lot, Leather Boy, it’s what happens when you reach your peak as the edgy, ‘not like other girls’ girl in middle school; everything you say becomes wisdom.” He slowly nodded, a small, confused smile plastered on his face, “I’ll pretend I know what that mean s and go ask Julie later after I’ve convinced her to help Cal, see you, Diner Gal.”

“Right back at you, Leather Boy.”

---

Y/N tied some balloons together before attaching them to a weight and strategically placing them around, okay she was just putting them down randomly but whatever, who needs strategy when you have a night full of music and, hopefully, possession free Cal’s in the near future.

“Wow, this is really starting to take shape. Love the balloons, I do hope they don’t pop whilst we’re performing though.”

She spun around to face the group behind her, “Hey, Firecracker, good to see you. And of course, I can’t forget, Leather Boy, Lover Boy, Boomer and my favourite marketing team, how are you all?”

“Great, it’s nice to see you again since Reggie’s been keeping you all to himself.”

“I have not! You and Luke are just busy pretending to write lyrics when you’re actually staring into each other’s eyes and Alex is with Willie pretending he’s gonna learn to skate when he’s actually just gushing over Willie.”

“Uh…” The mentioned parties turned as bashful as the Disney dwarf whilst Y/N and Flynn doubled over in laughter at their expressions.

“Man, Jules, what did he say back to mad you that flustered?”

“Don’t talk to me or I’ll egg your house.”

“Hey, I didn’t even go through with it, I don’t get why you’re still mad about it.” Both girls glared at each other for a second before bursting out in a second bout of laughter. Y/N turned to Reggie with an amused expression, “This is your fault, you know that, right?” A sheepish smile crosses his lips, “I realise that now, yeah.”

“Good, I was just checking.”

“Anyway, Y/N, Reggie was telling us about some ghost magician troubles you may or may not have, how can I help?” Y/N nearly cried in relief, there was a chance she was getting her self-appointed uncle back, “Uh, if you know how to get rid of Caleb’s mark that would help, from what I’ve been told that’s how he gets control or least has influence; since he can be outside of Cal’s body it’s probably less possession and more influence or control, if you get what I mean.” Julie nodded along, a thoughtful look on her face, “Yeah, I tried reading up on what happened more but most of it was just people trying to make a buck of off other people’s desperation…Actually, hey, Alex? Do you think you could get Willie this short notice?” He shrugged, “Maybe, I’ll see if I can get him, see you guys in a minute.”

Immediately after Alex poofed out Luke started grumbling, “Not even a question as to why, just so desperate to see his boyfriend…” Y/N rolled her eyes, “I bet you’re the same with your dearest Julie though, aren’t you, Lover Boy?”

“Tell that to Reggie.”

“Okay, setting up time, positions everyone!” Flynn flitted around, ushering the air into different positions before pushing Y/N and Julie to different ‘awesomeness-in-progress stations’

---

After about 15 minutes of blowing up balloons, hanging up bunting and banners and moving tables away from the enlarged performance area, Alex finally returned with Willie. “Took you long enough, jeez.”

“Okay, Romeo, I’ll remember that for next time, but let’s focus on saving Cal and tonight’s performance, yeah?” Willie quickly stepped in, “Hey, I’m Willie, Alex told me about you guys. Julie and Y/N, right?” His gaze turned to Flynn who was sorting through a pile of ribbons on the floor, “Can the other lifer see me? Or is that a no-go?” Julie smiled, “Nice to officially meet you, and no, she can’t see you, but she does know you’re here since I dragged her into this mess, so if she randomly starts talking to air or addressing you please try to ignore my loveable and not at all exasperating best friend.” Flynn looked up form the pile and flashed a smile at Julie, “That’s me! I’m also the only one setting up right now? Come on, guys, there’s still an event on tonight.”

“Right, I still have to set up light, sound, make copies of the setlist and make sure all of our performer’s resting spaces are prepared. Not to mention getting the staff ready. Would it be okay if I did those while you discuss? I’ll be here for the main event; I just have a lot to do.” Julie laid a hand on Y/N’s shoulder, “Relax, we got this. You sort out the diner, I’ll fill you in later.” She received a tired smile in return, “Thanks, Firecracker. It was nice meeting you, Willie. I’ll see you guys in just a bit.”

---

Taglist:

@dotishyperfixating​   @daddydraco0   @morganayenneferburnham​

@dxestars   @dcnerd98   @ultraworthlessbitch

@revolutionary-werewolf-ghosts   @underc0vercryptid

@underc0vercryptid-reads   @miisacore​

@cas-loves-pizza   @slytherhoes​ 

[turnaboutimagines]

Now I want to Apollo's reaction a reader with Hanahaki disease. Maybe add the "tell me a lie" "love you" prompt? I'm going start signing off as the angst gremlin. XD

Well, a very happy Friday the 13th to you, Angst Gremlin Anon!!!  I couldn’t quite make the prompt fit, but I incorporated something kinda sorta similar that I felt fit better.  I don’t personally use the surgery route for Angst pieces like this, so there’s no cure aside from requited love in this universe.  This is set between DD and SoJ.Content Warning (please read before you read!): This is ANGST™️ without a happy ending and blatant Apollo bullying given everything he goes through; features unrequited love and reader death.  This is a Hanahaki disease fic which means imagery of reader coughing up blood and flowers.  However, this gets a little more grotesque than usual for me with language through the imagery of vomiting flowers and blood, rather than just petals.

You knew you should’ve guarded your heart more around Apollo—for the both of you.  But it was hard to resist the pull of his sarcastic banter and deep-rooted, earnest loyalty.  And then it was the way his eyes light up when he grins or the cute (yes, cute!) rasp of his voice from his Cords of Steel Training.

Friendly blows gradually taking on a flirtatious edge as the first blushes of romantic love set in.  

You should’ve taken precautions when you felt your blood rush to your face more and more around him.  Too bashful to ever say anything, you were fine with your relationship being strictly platonic as it had always been.

But you didn’t and you only fell harder.

The crimson peony, starkly contrasting with the white of the toilet bowl, is proof enough of that.  You feel light-headed as you stared at the taunting blossom, hot blood prickling uncomfortably under your skin and the taste of copper on your tongue.  Your chest heaved with the effort that it took to simply breathe, lungs filled with stems, leaves, and budding flowers taking up too much space.  

When you weren’t choking on petals or, as you were, flowers you were suffocating.  Slowly and agonizingly suffocating in silence.  Your life had almost wilted away in its entirety by now, overshadowed by the uncontrollable bloom of your unrequited affections.

You’d hidden yourself away from Apollo’s perceptive eye: ghosting him and avoiding him without any attempt at an explanation.  You couldn’t bring yourself to lie to him and you couldn’t tell him the truth, silence was always easier.  And like how the sun rises each morning, he still tried to connect with you each day, probably worried sick about you how you’d seemingly dropped off the face of the planet.  Because you were his friend and he’d already lost one.  Because he—

There was a series of knocks at the door.  Loud, desperate, and unmistakable even from where you were in the bathroom.  You screwed your eyes shut, rasping for air as you hoped that they would stop.  That he’d go away.

Unsurprisingly, he didn’t.  You’re surprised it’d taken him this long to show up at your door like this, but he was likely trying to respect your boundaries.  Just as you had when he needed to pull away and needed time to grieve.  But enough time had passed that the concern was becoming overpowering.  And… it certainly wasn’t misplaced.

The knocking continued and you let out a groan, forcing yourself onto your feet before flushing the flower away, knowing full well that another would take its place within the next few hours.  The urge to see Apollo one last time was overwhelming and… he deserved a goodbye.

A short exchange.  That was all it would be, that was all you had the mental fortitude for.  Get him to leave while also giving him the only kindness you could think of—to grant him some of the closure he didn’t get with Clay.

That’s all.

The sound of his fist connecting with your door reverberated through your skull as you placed.  You put on the best attempt at a smile you could muster before opening it, you knew full well that he’d see through it but you couldn’t bring yourself to face him otherwise.

He stepped back, fist falling to his side as his eyes met yours, blinking at you in a way that suggested you’d taken him by surprise.  Yet his shock was quick to die down as a spark of hope.  Something that used to make the blood rush to your cheeks… and it still does.

You were focusing so hard on breathing and smiling normally that you simply waited for him to speak.  He said your name and you had to avert your eyes, the sound of it simultaneously too sweet and too painful all at once as you tried to let him continue.

“I’m glad y—”

He choked over his words and you forced yourself to look back at him, only to see him staring down at your chest.  Confused, you looked down… only to see that large speckles of crimson and a damming red petal had managed to make their way onto your shirt during your most recent fit without you realizing.

There was only one thing it could mean:

Hanahaki Disease.

You saw that precious light die in his eyes at that realization and all the terrible things it meant.  It was too painful to look at, so you looked away yet again.  The silence was stifling, it felt almost too thick to inhale with your cramped lungs, yet you forced yourself to do so anyways.

“…You’re not…really…are you…?”

“I am…”

Dying.  There was no avoiding its imminence, yet neither of you could bring yourself to say it aloud.  To make it real.

“Who?!”  The word came out louder than he intended as he grabbed your shoulders, his grip still surprisingly gentle. “I mean, if there’s a chance that we could get, you shouldn’t give up.  A-Anyone would be lucky to have you…!”

It hurt.  And you felt a familiar tickling at the back of your throat, you swallowed thickly and took a deep breath immediately after, buying you some more time.

“That’s not possible,” you said, still not meeting his eyes.

“Who is it?”

“…”

You suspected that despite his apparent obliviousness that he was very aware of your flirtatious intent with him; however, you doubted that he grasped the depth of your feelings for him.  It wasn’t something that his abilities could easily reveal and you took great pains to hide them—as much from him as yourself.

Your suspicions were confirmed as he suddenly seems to connect the dots and he recoiled away from you, as if you were red hot to the touch.

“No.”

A single word whispered, cracked and sharpened around its broken edges.  You knew from the guilt and disbelief in his voice what he’d decided upon.  That it was his hand, now, that had stabbed a knife into your heart, twisting it as you slowly bled out.  Blood that was on his hands.

But it wasn’t.

You tried to find the words to tell him that this was your own hubristic doing, but your mind was a maze and the world was getting fuzzier.  You needed to focus on breathing more.  It was only growing more difficult…  A breath in.  A breath out.  

That’s all.

The words still weren’t there, but you needed to say something.  The silence was too much.  So you forced yourself to look at him.  Tears were streaming down his face, but it wasn’t the desperate way he grabbed your shoulders again and looked at you that stole away the words you didn’t even have.  It was what came after.

“I-I love you.”

You knew that he meant it, but not in the way that he was trying to force it in that moment.  He loved you as a friend.  And there was nothing wrong with that.  You needed him to see that.

“You do.  But it isn’t… that isn’t what I feel toward you.”  You offered him an apologetic smile as you brought your hands up to rest over his in an attempt at comfort to the inconsolable.  “And that’s fine.  You haven’t done anything wrong, Apollo.  And I’m… so sorry.  About this.  All of this.  I didn’t mean for this—for any of this to happen.”

He slid his arms around you and pulled you close with trembling arms and shook his head.  “It’s not fine…!  I…I can still save you!  If I fall in love with you soon, then—!”

“—But that’s… not fair to you!  Y-You can’t just force love like that…!  But I’m grateful… to have b-been loved by you as I was.  I don’t regret that,” you sniffled, holding him back as best you could.

The itch at the back of your throat was becoming overwhelming once again, you needed to get to the bathroom.  Your time was up.

Tears streamed down your face as you pushed him away.  There were so many things you wanted to say to him, but not nearly enough time to say it.

“Thank you, Apollo.  Please don’t blame yourself…  I-It’s my fault that I loved you too much.”  You gave him a final smile through the tears streaming down your face, all while you twisted the knife deep into his gut.  “That’s all.”

A lie.

He called your name in a panic, hand instinctively reaching out to follow you as you quickly stepped back into your home and closed the door behind you, locking it with a final click.

You didn’t look back as you rushed to the bathroom once again, the bangs on the door and shouts of your name falling on deaf ears.  The world spun underneath you as you tried to stumble your way as the flowers mercilessly tear through your throat.

You crashed to the floor, crumpling to a heap on the floor as you helplessly clawed at your throat as your face became engorged with blood, feeling as if it was on fire.  Perhaps it was the agitation of what had just unfolded that had sped up the bleeding, quickening the inevitable along with it.  You’d thought you’d have longer…

However, you didn’t think much of anything, your mind was a jumble of thoughts as it fought to survive.  Hyper aware of the feeling of the flowers pushing their way through you and the sounds around you; the frantic knocking on the door, the hoarse calling of your name…

There is only one clear thought—one person—in your jumbled mind as everything seems to come undone:

Apollo.  That’s all.

[bigskydreaming]

Why do You dislike Scott Snyder? I mean I have my reasons.. like a lot of the Court of Owls stuff, his convoluted plots, making Dick a punching bag for the broody bats, horrible at writing the family as a family he literally wrote Death of the Family I mean....*kill bill sirens* ... Also the ''son of a Damian'' line from Black Mirror etc. But I'm curious if you have more reasons since I'm pretty new and I'm told that he likes Dick and wanted to write Dick focused books and I don't.. buy it.

LOL yeah, all of that for sure, and I mean.....tbh, I don’t pay enough attention to his interviews and stuff to even be aware that he’s said that about liking Dick and wanting to write Dick-centric books, but I’m with you on that....not necessarily meaning anything.

God knows I’ve lost track of how many fic writers in this fandom swear up and down they love Dick Grayson and yet I avoid their stories with extreme energy, lmao, because I’ve read enough of their takes on DG that I’m like hmmm, yeah, we are not the same, lol. I mean, there’s a certain couple fic writers who just are like....DETERMINED to mention Danny Chase every single time I make a post about why I’m annoyed by the focus on Dick’s allegedly infamous temper. And its always the exact same song on repeat, they’re like “OH-HO, so apparently you don’t remember the time Dick choked Danny, a literal CHILD, just because Danny had the nerve to tell him Jason died, cuz like, I do, and it was AWFUL and Danny could have died TOO y’know, that’s how mad Dick was.” 

And then I just kinda stare at these words that apparently mean things, and enter a fugue state where an unknown amount of time passes and by the end of it I feel 80 million epochs older, and its like....no, I absolutely do remember that time when Dick grabbed Danny by the shirt and yelled in his face because he just found out his brother died and Danny said “what’s the big deal, its not like it doesn’t happen all the time” and this was absolutely not an awesome and fun scene for anyone, no matter how understandable Dick’s upset was at the time. BUT, I also happen to remember, since y’know, it was in that literal exact same issue, how then Dick went to see Bruce, and due to BRUCE’S upset about Jason’s death, Bruce literally punched his remaining son to the ground, screams about how it was all Dick’s fault, and kicks him out of the house Dick grew up in and tells him to leave his keys with Alfred. 

And its like......the very same people who LOVE to throw around references to Danny Chase in order to puff up the claims about Dick Grayson being volatile and extreme and having a Dangerous Temper like, flat out REFUSE to ever even ACKNOWLEDGE that scene with Dick and Bruce, from the literal exact same issue, because they at the same time claim that THIS was bad writing and OOC and Bruce would never.....but apparently, the writing from ten pages before it was just fine and completely accurate and Dick absolutely would not only ever, he would always, and thus Dick’s Legendary Dangerous Temper is canon and its why Dick can’t have nice things or people being nice to him in these writers’ stories, its too Dangerous, he might get mad I guess.

And each time this comes up on this site, I’m always like....hey, science side of tumblr, is it possible that insisting on vilifying Dick for his reaction to someone in the wake of Jason’s death whilst simultaneously refusing to acknowledge the scene of Bruce’s reaction to Dick is canon or in-character despite existing in the exact same issue and written by the exact same writer.....like....could this be one of those double standards I’m always going on about? And isn’t it in fact reasonable to question just how much or how little someone actually means it when they say they love a character but want that character flogged in the middle of the town square for a Bad Reaction to something that also prompted a Bad Reaction from another character but this character, they’ll like, throw themselves in front of a moving train if it keeps someone from daring to even suggest that THEIR reaction was canon and in-character and might potentially say something damning about their temper or behavior with friends or family?

*heaves endless sigh of endlessness*

Sorry, that example was right there on the tip of my brain today because like....I literally just saw another post around this oft-deceased and resurrected and killed to death again dead horse like, five minutes ago and then came to dip into my ask box for the first time today and it was like.....destiny. Assuming destiny has some free time to kill and nothing better to do, which, I mean, hey, everyone’s allowed a hobby is all I’m saying.

LOL sooooooooooo, ANYWHO, its just like.....ugh, I’m so over being expected to take at face value any writers, whether professional or fan, saying “oh but I love this character or that character, and due to that being my preface to everything else I say or do in regards to this character, you have zero basis for claiming that you do not like or trust my depiction of this character because ummm, read much? I literally JUST said, I love them though? Wow. Insert scoffs of incredulity here, I don’t even know how to talk to someone who thinks I don’t like a character I claimed I like just because literally everything else I say or do about them paints an opposing picture to the contrary.”

LMAO. Sorry. Had to get that off my chest. But yeah, like, I think EVERY canon Batfam writer has made a similar claim in recent years about pretty much every Batfam character, and at a certain point it starts to be like....okay, if all of you are telling the truth here, shouldn’t we see more canon evidence of like....these characters that you’re writing, like....actually even LIKING each other? At what point are we allowed to question the legitimacy of you saying oh I totes love this character, that’s why I write their family as abusing them, that’s just love, baby, that’s what it looks like.

Personally, I’d like to see more of us at least using qualifiers? I mean, I do say I don’t hate Tim, or Bruce, or any of these characters, but I get how people could be dubious about that and be all, umm, you rant about them a lot, because like...yeah. Fair. That’s a valid critique. SO its a lot more accurate for me to be like, I love 90s Tim and I just have become increasingly less enchanted with the character over the past twenty years since then, enough so that my knee-jerk reactionism to people bashing Dick’s character BECAUSE of what Dick did or didn’t do to Tim in their eyes, is like.....disinclined to view the situation or his character these days through 90s-Tim rose-colored glasses. 

Similarly, I truly don’t hate Bruce, at least not when he’s not being written as physically and emotionally abusive and/or just plain neglectful, BUT I absolutely despise the abuse apologism rampant in most fandoms, but particularly in this one, where people will make like Cirque-de-Soilei contortionists in order to prove that Bruce beating this kid or that kid isn’t actually abuse, its cuz they made him do it....rather than people just being like, no, that’s abuse right there on the page and I don’t stand for it or stan that Batman, so I have zero desire to defend that scene or his actions there from his perspective, and am totally fine with taking a seat when someone speaks up about how much they hate what Bruce did to his kid there in that scene and how it affects their read of the characters as a whole.

Its like....that too, is a thing you can do, instead of just.....trying to explain why Bruce isn’t abusive see, because what happened there wasn’t actually abuse, since it couldn’t have been, because Bruce isn’t abusive, see, he would Never.

And yet so rarely do people actually do that, and we have people literally championing themselves as members of the Good Dad Bruce Protection Squad when the frank reality is there CAN BE NO GUARANTEE of him ever and always being a Good Dad, when like....his characterization, ultimately, is dependent on how he’s written by canon writers who ARE NOT US. Which makes that desire to see him as just a good dad and nothing but a good dad always, like....not quite as understandable as it otherwise might be, and instead just kinda....willful, an admission that a lot of fans in this fandom will just flat out ignore all evidence to the contrary of this stated claim about what Bruce inherently IS, when inherently all he is happens to be a character who manifests whatever those in creative control of him choose to manifest via him. Like.....there are ways to go about that kinda thing, its just....that isn’t it. Something like “Proud member of the Keep Bruce Wayne a Good Dad Squad’ or something along those lines? I’d have ZERO issue with, because that’s ACTIONABLE, not WILLFUL. It posits not that Bruce simply IS this way and there’s no ifs, ands or buts about it, but rather that just because he isn’t this way in some instances, that doesn’t mean we have to agree with it or condone that interpretation of him, y’know?

But people are like....unwilling to make that distinction or hold that nuance a lot of the times, so my dislike of Bruce as he’s written in certain ways or by certain writers like....grows and evolves and mutates into Godzilla rampaging through downtown New York, until its understandable that people reading my blog intermittently and who don’t follow everything I say on the subject are like.....”Bold of you to claim you like lizards in this one post when I have here nine other posts where you’re just like, FEAR the murderous monster-lizard destroying New York for it is Dangerous and Fearsome. Cuz one of these things is not like the others, bud.”  

*Shrugs* Anyway, all of that’s just my allergy to Staying on Topic, so make of it what you will, hopefully you get what I mean though even if you don’t have like, the requisite Kalen-Garbled-Nonsense Secret Decoder Ring. Back to Snyder though....yeah, he can claim he likes Dick all he wants, because y’know what, Tynion says the same thing and its been well established by moi that my fondest wish for Tynion is that he be kept far, far away from Dick’s character whenever possible. And I’m pretty sure Tom King claims he loves all these characters and we’re all like HAHAHHAHA and we know Lobdell insists he loves Jason Todd and its like wow how curious then that hardly any other Jason Todd stans love you.

The ironic thing about my random bouts of ugh Snyder in a lot of posts however, is that......tbh, its not even his depiction of Dick that makes me dislike him as much as I do? LMAO. I mean, I’m not a fan of it personally, for a lot of the reasons you mentioned, but I don’t like a lot most canon writers’ depiction of Dick these days and haven’t for years. The thing I really dislike Snyder for, personally, is his depiction of Damian.

Its just.....its very Not Good, a lot of the time. Oh, there are moments here and there, but you could claim that for any writer, really, but for the most part, like.....ooof, I haven’t read Snyder’s work on Damian recently enough to really cite specific moments off the top of my head, because I’ve been avoiding anywhere he’s writing Damian for awhile now BECAUSE of it, but....a LOT of the ‘demon brat’ shit in regards to Damian comes from Snyder’s work, and like, I’m always kinda like “hey is making Demon anything the go-to nickname for a kid of Arab descent who is already compared to a terrorist enough as it is like....really the best we can do” to begin with, and Snyder absolutely 100% does not help with that.

To be fair, its not remotely like its all just on him, the stuff that has had a lot of us complaining for years about the blood son crap and the insistence on acting like there’s this stark divide between Bruce and Damian and the rest of the Bat siblings, I mean, see: Tom King again, its just. Ugh, okay, Im gonna have to get back to this in the near future with actually sourced gripes about why I think Snyder’s Damian in particular is absolute crap and could he just not, though. Because it really is my chief complaint with him, like I was never gonna be a fan of his in general just because he’s someone who's like DARK MULTIVERSE BATMAN FUCK YEAH and I’m someone who’s like DARK MULTIVERSE BATMAN UGH FUCK WHY.....lol....BUT like I mention in other posts.....its not like he’s incapable of doing decent stuff or that he’s never written anything I like, because ironically, he IS the biggest canon backer of Duke Thomas and pretty much single-handedly responsible for Duke retaining as much of a presence as he has in recent years instead of just appearing and blipping out of existence like a one-hit wonder, and that can’t be overlooked or considered inconsequential.

That just also kinda makes it all the more annoying that his Damian is so very.....objectionable to me, but yeah. Anyway, that’s the curious case of my very mixed feelings on Scott Snyder, with a side dish of generalized “lol oh, so you do in fact love this character? Well magically all my criticisms of your take on them have now disappeared!”

[bangtae-sohotddaeng]

we’ll be counting stars | k.th. | 2

(^ gif cred: ON THE VOYAGE | pinterest)

pairing: idol!Taehyung x publisher!Reader

rating: nc-17 (for language and themes)

summary: You’d sworn off love and relationships forever. You were here to do your job - work with the biggest boyband of the world. Not forge friendships and...and whatever it was that you and Taehyung were building up with these sneaky glances. It was, to be very fair, your Chief Editor’s fault that you’d landed in this mess. Maybe you should quit your job? Maybe you should quit life -

Oh, he was staring again, and did he freaking lick his lips?

warnings: swearing (reader’s got a potty mouth) + this is set like 5 years in the future + reader has emotional issues, she's a relationship phobe + mentions of weed

genre: so much ANGST ugh + fluff + comedy + some crack

words: 3.3 k

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gimme feedback, much much appreciated!

“We’re all clear on the schedule, but I’ll repeat it for your sake,” you announced.

Your team was huddled around you, right outside the airport, with their luggage in their hands. You’d landed in Seoul less than an hour ago.

“So, right now, we’re going to take a cab to the hotel our company has booked us. We’ll rest, let our bodies recharge and adjust—because we left on Friday morning and reached Saturday morning in thirteen hours.” You grimaced. “Dunno about you, but my mind needs to adjust.”

You received collective groans of agreement in response.

“Great, you feel me. So we all do that first. And then we’ll collect in the lobby after lunch, at around 4 pm? I’ll have a word with BTS’ manager, and he’ll arrange for our commute. I’ll update you of the exact time, then. For now, let’s just go grab naps.”

You all hailed three taxis to the hotel, with Sana grabbing you by the elbow to make you sit with her. You did so, with a frown. She looked nervous. 

“Y/N!” she almost wailed as soon as you’d shut the door. 

The driver looked at her in alarm. You winced in embarrassment, and apologized in Korean. He started the car without a word.

“Sana, compose yourself. What is the matter with you?” you scolded the girl.

“Y/N, how am I gonna face him? I might freeze up at sight! And—and what if my brain starts to think up scenarios from… oh God, you won’t believe the kind of fanfiction-stuff I’ve read about him!”

Your ears started to warm up. You had some idea. It had been a while, sure, but you could still vividly remember the kind of fanfictions you yourself had indulged in—

Wait a second. This girl was gonna make you nervous, too!

“Okay, Sana, enough. It doesn’t matter how cute you find Yoongi, he’s our client. We’re gonna have to be formal with him. At all costs. We mess it up, we lose our jobs. You get that? So, think about your husband, try to be the professional woman he married, and for God's sake, stop making me overthink shit!”

Sana shut up, then, but her eyes still looked worried. "How do you do it, Y/N?"

You frowned. "How do I do what? I don't have a fucking crush on Yoongi!"

She gave a small laugh, looking slightly more at ease. "Exactly! How?"

You blinked, confused.

"I mean," she elaborated, "not just him. In general. How do you manage to not get dragged down by feelings and stuff?"

"I kinda had to." You snorted. "People are like leeches, Sana. You only stand a chance for a good, peaceful life if you avoid getting too close to them. Get caught up in feelings, get your soul sucked out of you. Get crushed under expectations, live the rest of your life trying to fulfil them. Die on the inside before your body perishes.” You shrugged. “A pretty horrid way to die, if you ask me.”

Sana gave a huff of laughter. “Who hurt you, Y/N?”

You froze. Sana probably said that rhetorically, but it still hit you hard enough.

It wasn’t the question of who hurt you, but actually, who you had hurt.

You shut your eyes for a few extended seconds, willing yourself to not think of the past. You succeeded for the most parts, too. But then Sana nudged your shoulder.

“Hey, I didn’t—I didn’t mean to upset…you…” She trailed off with a worried look on her face when you shot her a glare. “I’m sorry.”

“I’m not upset,” you grumbled, turning to look out of the window. “I’m just done with my quota of personal-unnecessary-unneeded-interactions with people, for the day.”

You heard Sana sigh. Mentally, you sighed, too.

You all found the two vans a bit excessive. There were eight seats in one—there were seven of you. But Manager Woo insisted that the boys actually used three of these to commute, so even this was a bit miserly of the management.

Rich people problems. 

You shook your head with a small smile. “It’s all okay,” you said to the Manager in Korean, following his lead into the BigHit offices where you were to meet your clients for the first time, ever.

You chanced a discreet glance at Sana. Maybe your frustrated, shitty pep-talk in the taxi had actually worked, because she looked a lot more held together than she had ever since you dragged her onboards with this project.

“This way,” Manager Woo instructed you, gesturing towards a lift. “The security personnel will lead you to the second floor, and into the meeting room. I will join you in a while.”

You bowed and your team followed, and then you all stepped into the elevator that looked big enough to hold the meeting within itself. Two security guards, all suited up with a tie and fitted with earpieces in a stereotypical bodyguard look, followed you in.

You exhaled, rubbing your hands together. “Guys,” you addressed your team in English. “You all have the detailed itinerary on your tabs, right?” At their nods, you pulled your own iPad out. “Good. Keep it on you when I talk about it with them.”

“Y/N,” Simon called out to you.

You looked at the fidgety guy with raised eyebrows.

“Are we gonna stick with the choices…” He trailed off when your eyes narrowed.

“We’ve spent more than seventy-two hours researching, Simon. Please stop with this.”

Simon gulped, but shut up. 

The elevators opened up, just then. One of the guards stepped out, and gestured towards the glass doors on the right. “That is the meeting room,” he said in Korean.

You all stepped out, elegantly, and you turned to bow to the two guards. “Thank you,” you said in Korean

They bowed in return, looking slightly flustered, and stepped back into the lift. You turned to face the meeting room, inhaled deeply, and then exhaled.

“Come on, guys. Showtime.”

You led your team as they walked behind you in pairs. Once you got to the doors, a guard stepped up from inside the room, and opened the doors for you.

A long meeting table sat in the centre of the room, with seven occupants on one of its sides. BigHit’s Founder and CEO sat at the head of the table, and the foot lay vacant—reserved for, you assumed, the Manager. Seven chairs also lay vacant for your team, opposite the BTS members.

As the door gave way, the CEO met your eyes. You gulped your nerves, and plastered a smile on your face. As you all crossed the threshold, the eight people seated on the table stood.

Dragging in a deep breath, you placed your tablet on the table before you faced them all. “Hello everyone,” you enunciated in Korean, and then bowed.

Your team followed your lead, and the people in the room bowed back. You kept your professional smile in place, discreetly wiping your sweating hand on the thigh of your cotton pants. Then you nodded at the CEO and he asked everyone to settle down.

“Welcome to Korea,” the CEO started. “Did you get here okay?”

“Besides the jet-lag, we’re actually very good,” you told the CEO to receive chuckles in response.

“Manager Woo will join us in a few seconds,” he then continued, looking between your team and the boys—that you were yet to properly look at—and gestured towards them. “Meanwhile, let’s introduce ourselves. I’m Bang Si-Hyuk, BigHit’s founder and CEO. Nice to meet you.”

You bowed, telling him your own name, and then shook hands with CEO Bang. Standing from your place, you finally willed your gaze to focus on the faces of the members instead of nervously looking into space.

Oh, wow. Cameras didn’t do these guys any justice, apparently. Not even the 8K ones, because they were really freaking beautiful human beings.

Dressed in lounge wear consisting mainly of extremely baggy hoodies as far as you could gauge, they still managed to look jaw-droppingly gorgeous. And their skin was glowing so bright, it looked unreal. But it was very much real because you were sitting across a three foot wide table from them, you could tell. It looked so soft.

You’d tightly held your lips up in a smile to save your mouth from dropping open.

While you were trying to get a grip on yourself, your eyes landed on a pair of brown ones framed by gorgeous lashes, right opposite to you. They were looking down. But then, they were looking up, as if sensing your gaze on them. Your professional grin involuntarily melted into a genuine one as Taehyung gave you a bashful nod of acknowledgement. You nodded back.

“Hello,” you mumbled, watching as his eyes grew wider. You blinked, releasing how private that sounded. You cleared your throat and ducked your head before looking at all of the seven guys in turn and nodding at each one of them. “Hello to you all,” you addressed them in Korean this time and told them your name. “And this is my team.” You gestured with both hands to your sides. “We’ll be your interviewers and companions for the next six months.”

A flurry of bows, nods and hellos passed over the table, followed by your teammates announcing their names. You doubted any of these would be retained, including your own. Which is why you handed over the seven identical copies of all your resumes to the CEO. “Here, Mister CEO. My boss had mailed them over to you, but these are to help the boys get acquainted with us better,” you told the man, and he gave you an appreciative seeming smile.

“That’s thoughtful of you,” Namjoon suddenly said, smiling with dimples up at you from his place on Taehyung’s right. His black hair was ruffled and a circular framed pair of glasses rested on his eyes. “I’m RM,” he said in English, “but please call me Namjoon. It’s a pleasure meeting you and your team.”

You smiled wide, shaking his hand when he forwarded it. His skin felt super soft, just as you’d expected it to be by looking at it.

The rest of the boys followed suit, minus the handshaking. They all insisted you all call them by their real names, which felt almost funny to you, because you were gonna be unwinding their whole life. This felt so unnecessary.

Just then, the door opened and Manager Woo reappeared. He bowed his head in the CEO’s direction before taking a seat to your extreme left, at the foot of the table. “Hello, everyone,” he said, “did I miss anything?”

“Just the introductions,” Namjoon filled him in with a smile. 

Manager Woo nodded and then looked at you. “The next thing to talk about is the schedule your team has planned for us, so that we can sort out any doubts or disagreements that might be there.”

Nodding, you pulled up the itinerary on your iPad, and cleared your throat. “I have planned out a strategy of working on interviews, and then sitting back to compile everything in an orderly fashion,” you announced. “We’ll divide each one of the six months we have on our hands into two groups—three weeks of discussions, and one week of compilation. All seven of us would be working with one member each, one on one, continuously for a time span of three weeks. After that my team will sit together, compare notes and move forth with the actual writing part. Then we’ll check if something has been missed by someone and arrange for its cover up, before we move forward into the next set of three weeks.”

You turned to look at your team to see if any of them wished to add anything, but they nodded at you with discrete thumbs ups. You exhaled in relief.

CEO Bang nodded at Manager Woo, who hummed in response. “Sounds workable to me. Boys?” He gestured towards the band members.

You looked up to find seven pairs of round eyes and gawking mouths. 

Murmurs ran across the seven angels seated opposite you. While they were distracted, you took your sweet time looking at each one of their faces. They really did look unreal.

Next to CEO Bang, Jin and Yoongi were engrossed in some discussion. With their heads bent, their hair shined blindingly bright—Yoongi’s like liquid silver, and Jin’s like molten lead. Next to Jin, Namjoon was adjusting his glasses over his shut eyes as he listened to Taehyung whisper something in his ear, and kept shaking his head in response every few seconds. Taehyung was almost drowning in his oversized hoodie with the hood up, as he used his hands with those elegant ass fingers of his to cover his mouth while speaking into Namjoon’s ear. Next to him, Jimin was nodding along to Hoseok as the latter spoke in whispers, gesticulating widely. 

Your eyes fell onto the far end of the table, then. Jungkook, who was already looking at you, shot his hand up when your gazes met. His eyes were literally sparkling with curiosity.

“Yes?” you asked with a big smile.

Jungkook flashed his teeth at you, looking not a day over five years of age. “Is one week enough time to write?”

You frowned. “In theory, yes. But if things go south and we need more time, we can always extend the contract. Mr. CEO?”

“According to the clauses in the contracts, definitely.” CEO Bang nodded with a small smile. “The book has to be good. We can compromise with everything, except for the quality.”

You nodded in understanding. There was an extendable clause in your contract, but you had every intention to not have to employ it. Not only did your boss have huge expectations from you, but you yourself were determined to give this project your best. Better than your best. You’d wanted to manage a complete project by yourself for so long, this was your chance of a lifetime to shine.

Taehyung’s hand shot up, breaking you out of your thoughts. He looked beyond adorable with his eyes rounded and lips nervously folded in.

“Ye—yes?” you stuttered very unprofessionally and then covered up with a cough.

“Who works with who?” he said in a breath, confusing you for a moment. “Will you take chits out? Or ask us to choose?”

“Oh, no no.” You chuckled when you caught his drift. “We’ve already decided among ourselves and also done some homework. You’ll find your personal interviewers in your contract copies.”

“Did you decide by picking out chits?” Namjoon grinned at you, and you laughed.

It had been chits, but you weren't about to tell them that. “Something like that.” You shrugged, playfully, and giggles rolled over the table.

Manager Woo, then, launched into a set of instructions for the band members. CEO Bang kept adding details in the middle, and the band members just kept nodding along in a bored fashion. Maybe they’d been over this multiple times.

You sat back to relax, observing everyone as you listened to the set of rules and procedures you were already familiar with. You looked from the corner of your eye as Jimin elbowed Taehyung. 

“Did you want to work with someone in particular?” Jimin’s whisper into Taehyung’s ear floated over to you.

Taehyung’s eyes briefly met yours, nearly burning a hole through your head by the deep curiosity emanating from them. And then he ducked his head again, shrugging Jimin off of him. 

You swallowed, roughly. Oh, God.

Manager Woo wound up his instructions with a repetition of be as honest as you can be, and then called out to you. “Do you wish to add something, Miss?”

You looked at your team. They shrugged. You shrugged, too. “You’ve covered it really well, Mister Manager. I’d actually like to emphasize one of your points—this is not an interview.” You looked across the table, at each of their faces, turn-wise. “There would be no cameras, no recorders, and no one monitoring your actions. Relax and be at ease. You should, in fact, think of the sessions as making new friends. You tell them about yourself, and they tell you about themselves. Only difference being, what you tell them will get compiled in a book so there must be a bit more of that.”

Your eyes met Taehyung’s and he nodded with a small laugh. The others gave you similar reactions, with Hoseok giving a two-fingered salute.

“That��s good. Also, Miss, we would like to request your team to work around the boys’ bodyguards.” Manager Woo looked at you earnestly.

“We’re really very grateful that you’ve agreed to our request for privacy and not enforced the sessions to be with the boys’ managers.” You shrugged a shoulder, and exchanged glances with Sana and Nathan. “And so, we would be okay working in the presence of the bodyguards, no issues.”

Your team hummed and nodded their own agreements. Manager Woo nodded back with a huge smile, looking relieved.

“We have the first interview scheduled for the day after tomorrow,” he then said as he distributed the individual contract copies among the BTS members and then your team. “Have a look at the details, one last time.”

You could, by this point, recite the clauses of the contract in your sleep. Yet, to be respectful, you accepted the file and placed it before yourself. You looked to your right and then left at your team. “Any questions, guys?”

Meryl raised her hand. Your eyebrows rose in intrigue. You gestured for her to speak up. “Yeah, um. About the secrecy clause—can we get a rough estimate as to when the news of the biography will be released?”

You nodded along. That was kind of a good question.

Manager Woo looked at CEO Bang, and all seven boys’ eyes adorably followed. CEO Bang readjusted his glasses. “We are planning a press conference at the end of six months.” Whoa. “I believe you’re going to have to keep this secret for the entirety of the project.”

You exhaled. It was gonna be kinda hard, but you’d manage. 

“I got you!” 

Your head snapped up at Jungkook’s shout of joy. He held the file in one hand and the other was raised up, mid-cheer. When all eyes fell on him, he froze for a moment before folding onto himself, bashfully. The boys all broke out laughing. You too had to stifle yours, by looking down in your lap, to maintain your professionality. 

When you looked up after a moment, your eyes met Taheyung’s again. He seemed to be slightly confused and kept looking between the file in his hand, you and Jungkook.

“Si… Simon?” he whispered with a heavy accent, but it was all you could hear despite the chaotic discussions happening all around you. 

You pointed at the guy sitting next to you. “Him,” you responded in English.

Taehyung’s eyes reverted back to you. “You?” he asked in English, very quietly.

You paused. “Jungkook,” you responded, gesturing to the still blushing boy with your eyes. And then, realizing how intimate your exchange was, you flashed him a professional smile. “Simon is great at conversation! You’ll have a good time with him,” you old him loudly, in Korean, earning smiles from the Manager and CEO.

Taehyung had still looked a bit lost when you tore your gaze away from him and picked up your tablet, but you willed yourself to unlock the gadget and not let your eyes stray.

This was just your first meeting, and Taehyung’s person’s intensity was already too much to handle. You thanked God you weren't gonna work with him one on one, or you won’t survive.

But, little did you know.

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gimme feedback, much much appreciated!

Tags: @tangledsparkles​ @hoefortaeshands​ @getmemyfries

[looselucy]

Apologies

June 21st “Right, Niall, get in position. A little to your left, closer to Lin.” I demanded from beside the lake, shivering and dripping from my recent dip. “No, your left! That’s my left.” “Which left?” “Your left! Left!”

“What is going on?” Libby laughed, watching the three lads get in line in the water. Libby had only just got there after having been at work most of the day, and preparing for her arrival, the lads had come up with a rather incredible synchronized swimming routine for her to arrive to. They’d sort of been exhausting her at work recently, with longer shifts and more responsibilities but no extra pay, and Louis was practically making it his life’s aim to cheer her up at any point and in any way that he could. Even with a water-based dance routine. “Just watch, you’re gunna love it.” I giggled to her. “Ready, lads?” Louis asked, and they nodded. “And a one, and a two, and a one two three.” Their arms shot up, all bizarrely in time to say how little practice they’d had over the past hour, and well, their entire lives before that. They started spinning on the spot, Niall clearly already dying to laugh but trying to just be serious for a minute of his life. Lin and Louis actually looked incredibly involved and invested in their routine. Libby was losing her head instantly, and I just stood laughing with her. Slowly, as they continued, my smile began to fade from my face as I stopped concentrating on their dance and lost myself staring at Lin, maybe forcing myself to look at him in a way I hadn’t done before. I hadn’t gone back to him with an answer to the question he’d asked me at the beginning of the week, and I didn’t really want to keep him waiting much longer. He’d asked me on Monday and it was now Sunday afternoon and I knew if I went much longer without acknowledging his proposed date and how much courage it had taken him, he’d retract the whole thing subconsciously and pretend it had never happened to save himself the shame. I wasn’t even sure that I’d made a decision, but then it seemed to me that there were pros and cons and risks either side, so why not just take the plunge? I wanted to let go and not even think about it and just see how it all unfolded of its own accord. Part of the reason I wanted to say yes was almost like a nod of respect to him for asking in the first place. I wanted to show him how much I appreciated the fact that he wasn’t going to let his fear hold him back and ruin something that could be incredible. Fear had ruined and stolen things from my life before and it was only looking back that I could see how foolish that was, the mistakes I and others had made due to fear. I didn’t want to look back on this and feel the same way. I was snapped out of my daze when Libby started clapping the lads along, laughing manically at their stupidity and the fact that Niall was completely out of time and now spinning the total opposite way to the other two. “You’re killing it!” She cheered them on. “I didn’t know there was so much talent in our group of friends, holy shit!” I had started and ended my week by that lake, starting somber and reflective and ending fun and carefree, always surrounded by people I loved, peaceful, happy. Maybe trying something with Lin would be the thing that finally shook things up again. And maybe that was exactly what I needed.

“You wanna stay?” I suggested nervously to Lin as everyone began drying off and packing up their things to head back into Rosebury. “Huh?” He hadn’t heard, too busy attempting to carefully dry his dreads as much as he could with his t-shirt. “Do you wanna stay for a bit? We could chat, or whatever.” “Uh... Yeah. Yeah definitely.” His smile was gradual, sensing my mood and tone. “Did you drive here?” “Yeah, I’ll drive us back. Saves you crawling into the back of Louis’ car too.” “I dunno why Niall always gets shotgun, it’s not fair.” “Niall always gets what he wants.” I smiled. “What is that about him? I feel like he could ask me to do anything and I would!” “He’s got a quality about him. It’s Niall’s world and we’re all just living in it.” “Rosebury might just be a figment of his imagination and we’re all just living in it, and we don’t even know that we don’t actually exist.” “What the fuck, Lin? Why would you say that? That’s gunna freak me out for weeks. That’s gunna keep me up!” “OI!” Louis yelped as they headed towards his car. “You coming, or what?” Lin turned his head so he could answer on our behalf, but before he’d even managed to spit out a sentence, Louis had this shit-eating grin on his face that showed he already knew exactly what was going on. “Um, we’re gunna stick around for a bit. Drinks tonight?” “Yeah, maybe. I’ll text you.” Louis called back, the three of them getting into his car. “Sweet. See ya later.” “Drive safe!” I yelled. Niall and Libby were none the wiser as they waved their goodbyes and got on the road, leaving the two of us alone. It was the first time we’d been alone since he’d asked me out. I was nervous. Never before had I felt like I didn’t know how to talk to Lin. From the second I’d met him, we’d conversed with ease. He was so friendly and bubbly and easy to get along with, it had been impossible to be any other way with him! It was so unnatural to feel as though I didn’t have anything to say to him when actually I probably had more to say than ever before, it was just harder now. It was obvious he felt the same way, so obvious in fact, that he called it out. I liked that about Lin. “This is weird.” “Right? Fuck, I know, I’m sorry.” “It’s my fault, why’re you sorry?” He cried. “I feel like I shouldn’t have ever asked and… put that on you, I’m sorry.” “No, don’t- Okay, sit.” I huffed, taking my place on the ground, Lin quietly sitting beside me. “I don’t want you to feel like that at all, because… I’ve given it careful consideration, and I think… we should do it.” “Seriously?” “Yeah. We should. We should… go on a date, or whatever. Although, I’m not even sure I know how dates work.” I sniggered down to the ground. “No one’s ever taken me out on a date.” “No one? What about Sam?” “Well we were young, weren’t we? We just kinda got to know each other at college, and back then all we did was get drunk and go to house parties. The next thing I knew, he was my boyfriend. We never really… had a dating stage.” With Sam, we’d been too young and too smitten to even think about dating. When things started with us, it was still all about being cool and bumping into each other in the right places, trying to show interest without ever being overly interested. Dates weren’t really a common thing at that age, so he’d never taken me out properly to try and woo me; he hadn’t needed to. And then there was Harry. “You deserve to be taken out on a date.” He was confident yet bashful, sweet. “Okay, well I will give you the honour of doing that then.” I joked. “You will?” He grinned. “I will.” “Fucking hell. M’gunna have to pull out the big guns then. First proper date.” “Yeah, good luck with that. There’s fuck all to do in Rosebury.” “Okay, so maybe we go out of Rosebury then.” He shrugged. “I mean, if I’m gunna do it, I’m gunna do it right.” “I’ll let you think about that then.” I giggled. “I’m already stressing about it. Genuinely.” “I wouldn’t. I think I’m pretty easy to please.” “Good to know.” Struggling to find something to say again, I looked out to the lake and attempted to control my breathing, my stomach not stilling even though we seemed to be fine. The thing that I couldn’t shake was the fact that my insides weren’t churning with nerves because of what he did to me, but because of what the scenario was doing to me. I didn’t want to overthink it and start questioning why we were so awkward, if it meant something, because after being friends for so many years it had to be inevitable, surely. But I craved that immediate spark, that sensation and desire that could occur between two people, like your bodies are begging it to happen. That was lacking and it was something we couldn’t create or force, I could only hope that it would appear in time and blind me when it arrived. “Thanks for… having the guts to ask me.” I spoke after a while. “That must have been difficult.” “I literally felt like my insides were rotting.” He seemed completely serious. I couldn’t help but laugh. “Thanks for saying yes. Eventually.” “We’ll just… see how it goes.” I turned to look at him. “Yep. We’ll see how it goes.” He looked back to me. His gaze had changed. The only reason I had been barely surviving these new dynamics was because at our core, we felt the same. It was Lin and he was familiar even when our circumstances weren’t, and that was why I’d said yes and why I’d had the nerve to give it all a chance. But then he looked at me, and it had changed. He wasn’t just looking; he was gazing and it was different and I felt like I wanted to scream. And then he kissed me. He just threw his head forward and put his lips on mine and he fucking kissed me. It couldn’t have lasted more than a few seconds before I ripped my head backwards, eyes still closed, not breathing at all before I just blurted out the only words I could. “You kissed me.” He didn’t say a thing for far too long. I opened my eyes, seeing that he was just as alarmed by his actions as I was. He looked horrified. “I did. Shit, I don’t know why I did that, m’sorry. Fuck, I dunno why I’m like this. I’m so fucking awkward and useless. I dunno what the fuck’s coming over me. I don’t-” This time it was me, flying my lips towards his. I wanted to kiss him and actually do it for long enough to be able to decipher how I felt about the kiss, but also to stop him ranting on and putting himself down, always thinking he’d done the wrong thing. He widened his mouth, kept the kiss calm yet intense, soothing his fingers down my jaw as his tongue gently met mine. It was slow, strange but good, captivating yet confusing. It was peculiar to kiss like that and still feel completely clueless. He slowed down our kiss, eventually stopping and laying his forehead against mine, the two of us taking a few quiet moments to reflect. “Sor-” “Lin, you’re gunna have to stop apologising for everything.” “Okay.” He chuckled, rubbing his nose against mine. And then the feeling came, crystal clear and undeniable. I was happy. And though it didn’t give me any of the answers I was searching for, it didn’t feel like a complete moment of clarity that defined what I wanted and what we might become, it was good enough for me. I was really happy. “Wanted to do that for ages.” He admitted through a whisper, like he was unsure whether he actually wanted me to know or not. “Did it disappoint?” I asked. “No, not at all! It was just… weird.” “Mm.” He leaned in a placed one last peck against my lips, my smile bursting as soon as he pulled away, the two of us incredibly coy and shy, but it seemed he was happy too. We would be okay. No matter what happened, we would be okay. I knew that then.

June 22nd “Was it nice? Was it big enough?” “It was fine.” My dad sighed on the other end of the line. “But I didn’t get any feeling about it, really. I can’t see myself there.” “Fair enough. It’s only the first place you’ve viewed anyway, I wouldn’t even worry about it.” “No, I won’t start panicking yet.” He'd been for his first viewing of a place he was looking to rent only a week after expressing the fact he wanted to leave Rosebury. He was moving quickly, proving to me just how much he’d been struggling since he moved back. He was eager to move on. Onwards and upwards, hopefully. My pride for him was literally bursting out of me. After so many years, he’d finally reached the stage where he felt he could progress and start this new life without feeling guilty about it. It was time he found his own contentment again, started anew. His happiness had been so routed in my mother for so long, and as wonderful as that was, I was thrilled that he didn’t really have any other option than to be utterly selfish and look out for himself. “How about you? How’s your day looking?” He asked. “I’m in the shop. I’ve given Louis the day off because him and Libby are looking at some venue for the wedding, so it’s just me today.” “Bloody hell, they’re not wasting any time, are they?” “I think they think they’ve had enough wasted time. They’re so adorable, it’s ridiculous.” “And have you decided on your date with Lincoln yet?” “Uh… yeah. I said yeah.” “Oh that’s good. I’m glad. Are you feeling okay about it?” “Yeah, fine. It’s strange but… y’know. It’s good. Why not?” “C’mon, Fee. You can talk to me. I know you struggled last year, when Harry left.” I was beyond thankful that my dad had been there to console me through our breakup, or whatever the hell it was. He’d been the only person there who I felt I could talk to, spill my guts to, and he’d been wonderful throughout. My heartbreak was delayed, in some ways. I’d been so angry with him and so confused by the things he'd said and how things had ended, that even after he’d left completely it hadn’t quite sunk in. And following that, when my mum died, that took up every single emotion and every single inch of my body, I didn’t have the room to habitat the pain he’d caused. It must have been a few months after her funeral, long after he’d first left. Nothing happened in particular, but it hit me from nowhere; that he’d gone, that I wouldn’t see him again, that I’d really loved him and lost him. It took so long for it to sink in, but when it had, I broke. My dad felt the brunt of that. My dad was the one who had to pick up the pieces, and I still hadn’t quite managed to put them back together. “Um… I kinda feel-” I was cut short by the bell chiming as someone walked into my shop, shutting up completely because I recognised her instantly this time around. It was Harry’s mum. It had been exactly a year to do the day since I’d last seen Harry, and in walked his mother. I stared in disbelief. “Fee? You there?” “I’ll have to call you back, I’ve got a customer.” “Alright, speak soon.” “Bye.” I hung up quickly, shooting her a friendly smile which was returned as she began to mosey around my shop quietly once again. I couldn’t believe she was back again. I didn’t think I’d ever see her again, despite the fact I knew she visited our little village. The fact she was there but I didn’t even know where Harry was, whether he’d ever reached her, if he’d even tried again. I felt really lost. “Julia?” I was timid, anxious. She turned to face me, looking sort of amazed. “I can’t believe you remember me.” She tittered. “It’s been over a year since I was last here.” “Well… I dunno.” I mumbled. “I uh… I guess I’m quite good with that sort of thing. We had a good chat.” There was a much grander reason behind why I remembered her so well, but that didn’t feel like the sort of thing I should just blurt out to her, even though seeing her then I really wanted to. I wanted her to know everything and hear what she had to say, because I’d never hear it from Harry. Their family was something I’d grown to care about and I wanted the best for all of them, even Jack. I recalled the time when Harry told me that he believed trauma either tied people together or tore them apart, and how their family had fallen victim to the latter, and I wanted so much for them to heal, tie themselves together even after all those years. Maybe they were on their way to that but I didn’t even know. There was much I could say to her. “We did.” She nodded. “How’ve you been?” “Yeah, yeah fine. How’re you?” “Good. Glad to be back, I love it here.” “It’s a beautiful place.” “It is. So, I feel like since you know my name, I should know yours?” She inquired. She was so friendly, so gentle. I saw a lot of Harry in her. They had the same eyes, the same beautiful smile, one that was warm and inviting. Even the energy she gave off without knowing reminded me of him, and suddenly I felt like I wanted to cry. It took so much strength to hold it back, but it was as though I could feel him there with me and it was agonising. “It’s Alfie.” I swallowed, and it hurt. “Alfie? That’s unusual for a girl.” “Yeah. It was my mum’s idea. Apparently, she was dead-set on it, much to my dad’s dismay. I think he wanted a really traditional name, but she wasn’t budging. She was tough like that.” “Did your mum grow up around here?” She asked, seemingly very intrigued. “Yeah.” “Did she… Did she have a dog called Custard?” I think my heart stopped beating, completely. She knew my mum. Harry’s mum knew my mum. “Rita.” I whispered, my tears brewing fully, unable to keep them at bay. “Yes, Rita! Rita was your mum?” She was excited, kindly ignoring the way I’d started to cry. “I went to school with her. She was… my best friend before I had to leave.” “How did… I…” “She was such a romantic. We used to play dress up, wear binbags as wedding dresses. Even then, she was set on the name Alfie. That’s how I knew, as soon as you said! We were so young, but she knew. I can’t believe she stuck with it! I remember it so well. I can’t believe this. What a small world. How is she?” Our world was even smaller than she recognised. My ties with Harry were even stronger and deeper and older than we could have ever known. Even when he’d told me his mother had grown up in Rosebury, I felt connected to him in new ways, but to now learn that our mothers had been so close in their childhood, it meant even more. I knew Julia had left when she was really young after losing both of her parents, and maybe that was why neither myself or my father could strongly recall hearing about Julia; maybe my mother had told us stories but never given a name, or maybe we’d just forgotten. It was mind blowing. “Um… She died. About a year ago.” “Oh my goodness, I’m so sorry.” She rested her hand on her chest. “That’s… But she was so young?” “Very young.” I wiped my tears away quickly, embarrassed. “She uh… She had Alzheimer’s. Early onset, so… She had a lot of fight in her, but… Sorry, I dunno why I’m crying-” “Please don’t be sorry. It’s totally understandable. I’m sorry, I wish I hadn’t said anything-” “Are you kidding? I’m so glad you said something. Like… you knew my mum, that’s insane! I think these are happy tears, I don’t even know.” She reached out and took my hand, pinched her fingers into my palm and squeezed tightly, smiled sympathetically. She felt like a mother, in that way that some women do; certain qualities and sensations that just accompanied her and her friendly touch, a familiarity, a safeness. If anything, I think it made me cry even more, though that definitely hadn’t been her intention. “Thanks.” I sniffled and chuckled at the same time. “And sorry. I’ve probably made you really uncomfortable.” “Not at all. I’ve seen a lot of tears in my time, this is nothing new to me.” She comforted me as much as she could, her smile bright. “I had two little boys. Trust me, I know tears.” My vision dropped down to the counter, the mention of them making me want to block the entire conversation out. She was so unaware of how much I knew about her children and her husband and just how many tears had fallen in that family. They had struggled so much, lost so much. Even beyond their father, beyond what Jack and Harry had done in their teenage years; Harry had told me himself that there had been times where she struggled to even feed them because they didn’t have the money. She had been fighting for all of them on her own. Julia had faced and conquered some truly trying times. “M’still sorry.” I sniffled. “Tell you what, I’ll grab the wine I came for and I’ll get out of your hair.” She let go of my hand, thinking I’d want some space. “It was a Caymus, beautiful.” “I remember. Cabernet Sauvignon, right?” Already getting out from behind the counter to retrieve the bottle for her, I started to pull myself together, stop myself crying. “You’re good at this.” I remembered her last visit to my shop as though it had happened only days earlier. She didn’t know that I’d have any reason why I should remember her more than others, but after recognising her and ringing Harry and waiting, I was so tuned-in and locked-on that I could recall every aspect of that day, down to all the mundane details. I climbed our little ladder to grab the wine she desired down from the shelf, carrying it carefully back down the steps and then over to her, passing it carefully into her hands. “It’s free.” I told her. “I’m sorry? No. No, I couldn’t.” She tried to pass it back. “Please, you have to.” I pushed it to her. “My mum used to run this place, and if she was here today, you’d be leaving with a free bottle of wine. Please, have it.” “Are you sure?” “Positive.” She clutched it to her chest, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath inwards, as though kindness was rare to her, as though this gesture was special, a moment and a feeling to cherish. “Thank you.” “You’re more than welcome.” I cooed. “I’ll maybe see you in another year or so, if I visit again.” “Please do.” I nodded. “Do you need a bag?” “No, this is perfect, thank you. Nice to see you, Alfie.” “You too.” She turned on her heel, heading to the door and swinging it open, one foot outside before I spoke, without even meaning to, without even knowing what I was doing, without even thinking, it just happened. “I know Harry!” I uttered urgently, instantly bringing her to a halt. I cursed quietly beneath my breath as she slowly turned to face me once again, evidently alarmed by what I’d said, and so was I. “I’m sorry?” She was quiet, startled. “Harry. I… I know Harry.” “My Harry?” I nodded, and she let the door close with herself still indoors, the two of us stood staring in silence for a portion of time I couldn’t possibly decipher. I could see from the look on her face alone that he hadn’t gotten in touch. She really hadn’t seen him since he was 18 years old. There was a chance I’d made a mistake by telling her, but Harry and his wishes were no longer mine to fret over. I didn’t need to worry whether he’d be angry for intruding or trying to push him, because he wasn’t even there to see it or experience it. I didn’t mean to take matters into my own hands because he had failed to, but if there was something that I could do to help their family then I would. “Where is he?” Her voice was feeble, scared to hear my answer. “I’m not sure. New York, I think, but I don’t know for sure. But he was here, for a while. He lived here.” “Here?” She couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “He bought your old house for you.” “What?” “He bought it for you. Did it up, hoping you’d come back. It’s beautiful, and as far as I’m aware it was never put up for sale again so… I think he’d want you to know. It’s yours, if you want it. The number I had for him was disconnected months ago, but I just know how much he wants you to have it.” Embarrassingly, I had tried to call him more than once. Usually after a few drinks, feeling lonely and asking questions about him and his wellbeing. It wasn’t that I ever knew what I wanted to say, but I knew I wanted to hear his voice more than I could even understand. “I… I haven’t heard from him for years.” “No… I haven’t either.” I choked. “But I know he tried a few times, to find you. I think he was just scared… after what happened.” “He told you what happened?” There was almost a sense of scrutiny in her voice, staggered. “He… Yeah.” I mumbled. “He was never much good at talking.” She was so dazed she sounded somewhat serene. “We… We got pretty close.” It seemed to me as though she hadn’t blinked at all from the moment I had said his name, in such a state of disbelief over what I was telling her, the fact I knew him at all. I’d just known in my heart that I had to tell her, even though it didn’t help either of us. I didn’t even have a way she could reach him, but that was beside the point. She remained quiet for a while, adding some things together from what I’d said and what she knew of her son. “He was in love with you, wasn’t he?” My body rejected the notion rapidly, shaking my head and breaking our eye contact, feeling like I’d been punched in the chest. Over a year, and the damage he had done when he’d spurned my love was still evident. “Uh… No. No, he wasn’t. I-I wish.” I tried to joke breathily, but neither of us laughed. “But I need you to know that… Your son is an incredible man. He’s grown into this… beautiful, kind, amazing person. He’s changed, and I really… I think you should reach out to him.” Her smile was fleeting, but I saw it, truly saw it, and I saw everything it held. I think what I liked about her smile that occurred over my words concerning her son ran deeper than the obvious pride, because within that brief and beautiful smile I noted how she didn’t seem at all surprised by what I’d said about who he’d become since she last saw him. I knew then that she’d always seen the good in him, she had always known how wonderful he was, in spite of his mistakes, but she’d just needed some time. After all those years and all that pain, she had chosen to put herself first, something she hadn’t been able to do when she was caring for all three of them. I appreciated that she had it in her to do that. For years, I had wanted my dad to be selfish enough to put himself first, look after himself, and he hadn’t really managed to do that until recently. I had to respect the way she had been as bold as to love herself enough to know her health had to be put first at some point. She may have cut him off for her own reasons, but she knew Harry was a good person. He always had been. “I’ve tried.” She told me simply. “What? Did you… Did you get through to him?” “I wish.” She faked a smile, repeating words I’d used just as wistfully. “It’s not easy. He’s a renowned artist, which makes him… hard to reach.” I hadn’t really thought of it that way before. For the time he’d been in my life, he was there and he was ours and he was close and familiar, so much so that it was hard to think of him in the sense of him being an artist, a public figure. Of course he’d be difficult to reach from outside of that; even when he used to go away for weeks at a time, he completely disappeared off the radar, made himself inaccessible. Harry would have been well aware of that, which was likely another reason he always felt it was in his hands to reach out to her. “I tried a few times. I got through to his agent once, but I never heard anything back.” “Fuck.” I seethed. “His agent is such a prick. I’ve never even met him but… fuck, I hate him.” I didn’t need to meet him and I had no desire to ever meet him because I knew exactly what he was like, even from the few facts I had, the basic knowledge I’d acquired through what Harry had shared with me about him. He literally wanted to keep Harry in pain and provide hardship, because that was where the art came from. He didn’t care about Harry’s health or happiness, he only cared about the buyers and the money. “Harry doesn’t know that.” I continued once I’d taken a few moments to calm down. “If he knew, he’d have replied. I spoke to him about it more than once. He doesn’t think you’ve even tried since he left for uni.” “I did, but then it got to the point where I felt I had to stop.” “Why?” “Because I didn’t want him to think for even a second, that the only reason I was trying was because of his money. We really struggled when he was growing up, and I didn’t want him to think that I only wanted to see him because he’s doing well for himself. The thought kills me.” An abundance of complications had kept them apart when they so desperately wanted to join themselves again, make amends and rebuild all that was broken. It was heart-breaking to think they had both wanted and tried for the same thing for years and yet it hadn’t happened for them. “That makes sense.” I acknowledged. “It’s… so complicated.” “Is he well? In himself?” “I wish I could tell you.” I started crying again. “I really fucking wish I could tell you. I hope so.” I craved to know the answer to that question myself, but I didn’t know and I wasn’t sure I’d ever know. His existence was now entirely separate from mine. Our only link in that moment appeared to be his mother, who was stood right in front of me holding back tears. I was as clueless as she was. “I’m sorry.” I sobbed. “It’s not your fault. It feels so surreal to speak to someone who knows him so well, knows what happened. I miss him terribly and it’s… As sad as it is, it’s almost comforting. To know he spoke to you. To know he found the courage to talk.” She shuddered. “You have no idea how much that means. That’s how I know he loved you, dearly. It’s been too long, but I know my son very well. He wouldn’t have told you about what happened with our family without feeling as though he was giving you his whole heart. I know it.” Even though I felt I knew more, things that made me immediately want to dismiss what she was saying, I didn’t want to say that to her. Him managing to talk was important, and I didn’t want to shatter that for her because of things that had happened months later. Instead, I tried to embrace what she was saying, beginning to appreciate that even if it hadn’t been love, it had been something significant for both of us. He might not have loved me in the way she thought, or the way I had wished he had, but I’d meant something to him, momentous enough that he had shared parts of himself that he would only hand over to someone he truly trusted. I reached for her hand the way she had reached for mine earlier, squeezing tightly in a rather weak attempt to comfort her, show her that tears were accepted, a sign of her strength more than a moment of weakness. And though our links to one another had only ended with the two of us in tears, we smiled at each other then as though we were grateful it had happened, grateful we’d gotten to talk and be open with each other. We shared something special in those moments. We somehow both ignited and eased the pain simultaneously. I appreciated her presence more than I’d ever be able to word.

[charliejrogers]

Borat Subsequent Moviefilm

In 2006, Borat was one of those great cultural touchstones that transcended the big screen. There was no aspect of pop culture after its release that wasn’t in some way affected. It perfectly coincided with the rising popularity of YouTube, such that those who hadn’t seen it (or couldn’t because they were too young to get into the rated R movie) could at least see many of its famous clips.  Everyone knew Borat in 2006. Everyone. You couldn’t go two fucking steps without someone going “very nice!” or “my wife!” It was such a wonderfully smart movie. It combined the best aspects of a Jackass movie, i.e. the trolling of innocent and unsuspecting bystanders, with a noble cause, to expose to the world the ignorant side of America. It was a novel and insightful look at our country.

In 2020… there is no insight in telling us that much of the country is ignorant of the truth, racist, or sexist. As Borat himself points out in this film, in the years between when he filmed the first movie (2005) and the new movie 2019-2020, America has become transfixed by their new “magical abacuses”, i.e. cellphones. Phones, the internet, social media, all of them expose us everyday to how the other half lives in their little social bubbles. We don’t have to wonder “do people really think this?” Just type whatever terrible or stupid theory you can think of into Google, and you’re guaranteed to find at least one person who endorses whatever heinous thing you just wrote. Again, this is portrayed within the film when Borat, confronted by the fact that maybe some of his core beliefs are lies, finds websites that say that (much to his anti-Semitic disappointment) the Holocaust was not real. So, one is left wondering… what can Borat bring to the table in 2020 that is fresh?

Unfortunately, the answer is… not a whole lot. Borat Subsequent Moviefilm feels mostly like a retread of 2006 with the only additions aiming more for “shock factor” than real comedy aimed to grab headlines (which it succeeded in doing). This is not to say this is not a funny movie. It is. The film’s opening where Borat describes the typical (fictionalized) Kazakh’s view of American politics is hysterical. In sum, America went to shit with the election of Obama, paving the way for other Africans to take power of the West (cue the photo of Justin Trudeau in Black face). Now with Trump in power, Borat is sent on a mission to curry Trump’s favor so that Kazakhstan and its leader will be viewed with the same favor that Trump has bestowed upon other “tough guys and tough guy countries” like Russia/Putin, the Philippines/Duerte, North Korea/Kim Jong Un, Brazil/Bolsonaro, etc. The gift is supposed to be an overly sexually aggressive chimp for Vice Pussy Hound (i.e. Vice President) Pence. However, Borat’s daughter Tutar sneaks into the crate with the chimp, and after a chain of events Borat has no choice but to gift his daughter over to Pence, and eventually Rudy Giuliani, instead.

It’s a simple enough plot but I think the movie gets a little too caught up in it. No one is asking for a plot line for this movie. If this were just a string of sketches with a vague whiff of a plot to transition between the sketches no one would fault it. In fact, that sounds like the first Borat. We are just here for the sketches. Yet the movie is looking to do a little bit more than the first movie. It’s not content to just say, “Hey, look at yourself, America! You’re fucked up! Let’s all laugh at you.” This movie has specific targets that dominate its focus: Trump and Trumpland.

This is, I think, an unfortunate choice not because I don’t approve of bashing Trump and Trumpland, but because whereas the first movie felt like comedy was king with the sociopolitical insights as a dominant undercurrent, here the story and the humiliation of Trump and his base is the end goal. This still makes for funny scenes, but when I think back to the first Borat (and as I re-watched clips of the first movie after finishing this movie), some of the greatest parts of Borat had nothing to do with politics or sensitive subjects. Much of the humor was just based around the ballsiness of Sacha Baron Cohen. This is a guy who when invited into a person’s home for dinner makes openly sexually complimentary remarks about two of the female guests, but explicitly states that the host’s wife is ugly. Never mind the fact that at that same dinner party, Borat hand-delivers his shit in a bag to a guest, claiming to not know how Western toilets work. It’s hilarious, it’s daring, and has nothing to do with politics.

In essence, the first Borat was such a success because Cohen played the character with such a believable naivete and loose grasp of English idioms, that he was a factory of malapropisms, a genius of comedic-timing, and a troll that could annoy the ever-living daylights out of anyone. There are as many scenes of him trolling nice, innocent people (like the driving instructor, the man who teaches him jokes, the group of feminists, or really any time he goes on the news) as there are scenes of him trolling people so that Cohen can make a political point or social observation (like the singing the wrong national anthem at the rodeo or his innate criticism of a Pentecostal Chruch’s weirdness). And in the end, the “point” of that plot at least had nothing to do with politics. You can watch this movie, get your laughs, remark at America’s racism, and still get your laughs.

Here, there really isn’t any scene I can think of that wasn’t done to make some sort of observation or political point. The closest I can think of are the bits towards the beginning before the plot kicks into high gear. There’s a recurring bit I love of him communication with the Premier of Kazakhstan via fax machine at a local UPS Store. The genius isn’t contained in the sentence I just wrote, but that he requires the aging worker of the UPS Store to hand-write all of his faxes for him and read any and all replies. Similarly, there’s a quick bit of genius at the beginning where Borat goes to a cellphone store and cannot understand FaceTime at all. He assumes the person on the phone must be the brother of the phone store worker he sees in front of him; they cannot be the same. Similarly he somehow enlists the help of a delivery person to re-seal the crate in which his daughter came to America in.

But otherwise, the jokes are there either to say, “Woah! Aren’t these Americans terrible?!” (whether he’s talking about QAnon’s theorists, anti-abortionists, or anti-maskers). Or there’s gross out humor, mostly about vaginas and periods, (or moon blood, as Borat calls it). As I said, these aren’t all unfunny. Probably my favorite sequence in the film sees Borat and his daughter at a pregnancy crisis center because Tutar has accidentally swallowed a little baby doll that was on top of a cupcake her father had “given” to her as a “treat” that was just supposed to be “their little secret” because women in Kazakhstan aren’t supposed to have sweets. So she ate the cupcake behind a dumpster. I’ll let you guess what happens when you enter a Christian pregnancy crisis center asking for them to take out the dumpster baby your Dad wasn’t supposed to be giving you… but it’s hilarious to see the worker sorta squirm his away around addressing the reality of incest.

But mostly, I felt kinda fatigued knowing that Cohen and co. were mostly trying to show me the “underside” of QAnon and anti-maskers… but as I said, in 2020, I am unfortunately well aware of both these groups, their psychologies, and their world. So merely highlighting that these ideas exist and that the people who endorse these ideas don’t really have a lot of great ideas otherwise, isn’t that novel as it might have been back in 2006.

Probably the more “interesting” side of the film is it’s focus on feminism. The film uses Tutar (played perfectly by previously unknown Bulgarian actress Maria Bakalova and deserves all the praise she gets) to really expose how America, despite being a “feminist” nation, still shares many aspects with the fictionalized version of Kazakhastan where women are considered equivalent to livestock. The movie hopes to shed light on the far reaching effects of the patriarchy. The movie ends at the top of the pyramid with politicians who feel like it is their right to use their power to sleep with whomever they want (Trump’s obviously the true target of this criticism and I will say, the final Giuliani scene feels a little bit like entrapment… that said, I think it’s fair to say not every man would be so willing to fall into that trap). But leading up to that we see aspects of America designed to fit perfectly with the patriarchy’s demands. We hear from a shallow, vapid Instagram influencer that to get by women need to be docile and pretty, and we see a frankly horrifying discussion from a plastic surgeon talking about all the things wrong with Tutar that he would fix with surgery so that men would want her… despite the fact that she’s a beautiful woman and has nothing wrong with her! We live in a society that recognizes the horror of a patriarchical society, but still so clearly buys into it.

But in the end… you’re not watching Borat Subsequent Moviefilm to get an education on feminism and the problems with the patriarchy. That should be the extra cherry on top of a main course of hearty laughter. In focuses on the politics, Cohen and co. find plenty of laughs and memorable moments, but fail (perhaps inevitably) to recreate the signature naivete and bumbling oafishness of his titular interviewer, in the process losing some of the film’s humor and paradoxically its ability to leave a lasting message.

**/ (Two and a half stars out of four)

[arlakos]

Miraculous Rank List: My list of Secondary Superheroes

Considering most of my usual posts contain a fair amount of salt, lets go for something a bit lighter today!

This list basically covers my listing of all my favorite secondary heroes and ranking them from best to worst. I’ll be working my way up from the heroes I like the least to the ones I love the most.

With that statement out of the way, lets get started.

Number 8: Bunnyx

Yeah, this may be a shock to some, but I don’t like Bunnyx. I think her power is cool, and I think the outfit is ok, but everything else about her is just so not cool. And that really has to do with her debut episode: Timetagger

Aside from her episode being the one where its revealed the miraculous powers become unlimited when you become an adult (which is just dumb!) her attitude towards Chat is extremely shitty, along with the fact the show this episode LOVES to point out how Bunnyx being stuck was ALL CHATS FAULT, with the show pretty much rubbing it in all episode! There's also the fact she does pretty much nothing in the long run, with the day pretty much being saved (yet again) by Ladybug! Sure, this is a running theme with most battles, but it would be cool for the other heroes to be able to win a fight without Ladybug's help.

Number 7: Pegasus

There’s nothing really much to say about him other than I find him boring.

The new heroes' idea was a nice thing in season 2 when it first came out, and the fact they limited themselves to only 3 heroes was pretty good so far. Unfortunately, season 3 has made the idea of new heroes kind of boring with just how many they introduce in the season alone. However, with the rest of the heroes, most of them had a pretty good introduction to warrant their place on the team and the fan hype. With pegasus, however, there wasn’t really much of a good intro for him, at least in my opinion, and when he finally appeared, I was underwhelmed.

His outfit, despite having an ok design, radically changed his appearance in comparison to other characters, and the colors really failed to suit him at all. His superpower is an ok superpower. A portal is not a bad power but again, pretty bland as well.

Number 6: Queen Bee

Yeah, Ironic since I'm a huge fan of the Chloe redemption idea, but canon did my girl rough.

From having her reveal herself publicly to essentially having her put lives at risk just to show off, Astruc really tried to hammer home that Chloe would not become a hero. Even the bit at the end of Queen Wasp wasn’t enough for me to get rid of my hatred for the episode.

Despite that, Malediktator and Miraculer (the second half at least) were enough to improve her in my books, but it's still a far step away from the other heroes rather simplistic intros. I would’ve been fine with Chloe’s intro to being a hero if the other heroes weren't treated marginally better in comparison. Everyone else was chosen by the ‘amazing’ Ladybug and all of them listened to Ladybug and did everything right and everyone else is perfect - While Chloe found the box by mistake and became a villain by the end of season 3. Really Astruc? Really?!

Despite all that and the season 3 finale, I still like Queen Bee, but there is no mistake that her introduction left a pretty bad mark on her (temporary) hero career.

Number 5: Viperion

Luka’s debut as a hero was also something I felt was off. Not only was Luka not chosen initially (due to Ladybug choosing Adrien for the sake of her crush, which was actually one of the good parts of the episode as Adrien basically chose Luka for her, and was some good character growth for Ladybug) but Luka’s abilities are kinda .... weird.

Not so much the superpower, the idea is based off the ouroboros, which has been misinterpreted before to represent ‘infinite’, which makes sense considering his power is a time loop but the tool itself.

Chat Noir and King Monkey have staffs, Ladybug has a yoyo which can tie up baddies, Rena has a flute which also functions as a mini staff, and Carapace has a freaking shield! Even Pegasus has a boomerang Horseshoe.

And Viperion ... has a freaking Lyre. A freaking musical instrument that doesn't even function as a weapon.

Sadly, Viperion’s tool was pretty much designed only for the Desperada episode, due to it allowing him to distract the main villain of said episode. Aside from that, it doesn’t really do much for him combat wise. 

Hell, if you’re going to have Viperion have a freaking Lyre for a weapon, at least have a funny scene where they have him using it to serenade every boy and girl in Paris! Just have him play music and everyone just becomes swooned by him, as well as make straight guys confused on their sexuality.

0/10, not enough Luka serenading Paris for me.

Number 4: Carapace

The Anansi episode actually did a few things right for my boy. He fought Anansi by himself without a miraculous, which was a good thing, he kicked even more ass as a hero for a bit, which was also a good thing. Unfortunately, he, like every other hero, was not given a chance to shine as he was completely overtaken by Ladybug. Again, it's a running issue with every secondary hero, but after he becomes a hero, he is pretty much playing second fiddle to the ‘actual hero’.

Aside from that episode, he has some pretty rough luck with being a hero. Like all the other temp heroes, he was overtaken by the akuma in heroes day, with his only part being stopping Hawkmoth from attacking Ladybug and Cat Noir, which is still a good thing, but after that, he doesn't have really anything much going for him. Still though, like Roy, he is my boy, and I love our hero with a shell shield, even if he doesn't have actual Turtle Power.

Number 3: Ryuko

Cool Outfit? Check. Cool Power? Check. Badass Kagami? Double Check.

Kagami had a lot of good things going for her in her debut. Her power was one of the coolest I had seen in a while and she had a badass outfit to go with her. I also like Kagami a lot, so it helps with the favoritism a lot as well. Unfortunately, her identity was revealed to Hawkmoth, and she didn’t make that many appearances, even compared to other heroes. Still, she is pretty cool.

Number 2: King Monkey

Whoever decided to give Le Chien Kim a miraculous was absolutely bananas, but I suppose that is for the best. :)

Like Ryuko, he has one of the greatest costume designs, and his power is awesome as well, and Kim as a miraculous wielder is absolutely amazing, being sporadic, crazy and funny as well. However, he suffers from the same issue as Ryuko, with that being that he doesn’t have much screentime as a hero, even less than her.

The difference is that I love Kim a bit more due to his personality, and when you combine it with the monkey miraculous out of all miraculouses in the box, and I could just watch an entire series of Kim monkeying about Paris. He’s that cool and funny to me.

That just leaves number 1...

Number 1: Rena Rouge

Rena Rouge’s first appearance was one of the best introductions in the series (aside from King Monkey), and the episode itself was certainly one of the better ones compared to the rest of season 2.

When I first saw Rena Rouge back in season 2, I was amazed by the episode. It didn't have any bad or cringe moments, no character bashing, no implied salt, just Ladybug, Chat Noir, and the new hero bantering and joking with each other while fighting another akuma, and it was amazing. The fact that they showed being a hero through Alya’s perspective really helped to show her excitement at not only helping Ladybug and Chat Noir, but also being a hero flying through the air. Rena joking with Chat was certainly one of the highlights

But undoubtedly, the best part was probably at the end with her giving back the miraculous, and showing that no matter her feelings, she was one of the best choices as a hero, and proving to herself and others that she is hero material as much as Ladybug and Chat Noir. Again, this was before season 3 gave miraculous out like Oprah gives cars, but semantics. Going back, the episode still hasn't been sullied by time and remains one of the best episodes and hero introductions in the entire series. Which is why Rena Rogue deserves the top spot.

And there you have it! Feel free to create your own list of favorite secondary heroes in your reposts and tell us why they are at the spot on your own list.

For the sake of people I respect and watch on Tumblr, I ask @twin-books, @ratheroddranger, and @rucky-chan to make their own lists of favorite secondary heroes and tell us why they arranged their list that way! They don’t have to do it, but it would be cool if they did!

[cuziloveyou7]

15 questions

I was tagged by the always wonderful: @randombtsprincessa ofcourse!

Tagging: @everyone who wants to do it, @taevolucion, @an-annyeoing-writer, @kittylefayy, @oheyura, @http-je0n, @swthhhie

1. It’s your birthday! What did you ask for and did you receive it?

Okay so I'm the most basic person because I never know what to ask for. I usually ask for money or gift cards so I can buy my skincare or make up (which I don't use tbh but I just love make up so much!!!). Love to get flowers! Got them once from mom! My mom does have a whole list of ce moi... so far she promised to get me but still haven't received....

2. What was the last song or album you listened to?

Okay so imma do both! Last song was Badass women by Meghan Trainor (I needed happy and confidence) and last album was Eric Nam's The other side!

3. What is your go-to snack when you’re hungry or bored?

Ehmmm... so I rarely eat unless I'm actually hungry (blame the eating disorder, I'm good now tho but old habits die hard) so skyflex maybe? Because the only time I do do this is when it's period time and it's just a mess with what I want to eat!

4. What is your morning routine?

On a work day I wake up at 5 am, take a shower, wash my face, dress half way, skincare, eat, brush my teeth, dress fully, go to work. On days off I set my alarm at a comfortable time, slowly wake up, either shower after getting out or just lazy around the living before taking a shower, eat and play games, make some moodboards, day dream or go out if I have anything planned. I'm having a gap year so yeah imma take it slow! Can't do much with Rona anyways!

5. What mythical/cryptic creature would you be?

I was highly convinced I was the embodiment of a unicorn but I don't think I deserve that title. I wish I could be a Valkyrie because they badass. But I also kinda wanna be a mermaid/siren or fairy/fae/pixie! Idk man lemme be all!

6. How do you interact with someone that you don’t like?

Kinda nonchalant... idk I be nice and be normal but I don't put much effort in that person.

7. How do you define a toxic person?

Yooo! Das hard tho! Because I've met different types of toxic ppl. The ones I usually interact with are usually takers and I've always been a giver! I'm working on getting the right proportion of both because either one is very unhealthy on it's own. It's like ying and yang, you gotta find balance peeps! Ohh and toxic ppl usually make it so you think you're always in the wrong and at fault..

8. Have you ever been to a concert or fan meet type of event? If not, would you want to?   

This is a sad story... I've only been to 1 concerts in my whole 20 years of life... would've been 2 in july but no BTS for me thanks to Rona.... I would love to go to more concerts in the future when it's possible again! But for now stay safe loves!

9. Do you believe in astrology? Why or why not?

Eehhh.. yes and no? Like there are certain aspects I do. Also I'm more into the spiritual side of it? If that's what you can call it tho? Like the random posts you see on sm I don't take to heart. Also those magazine astrology is junk. Idk man it's hard because I also think you define you! You are your own person and that's the tea! Bc if I was to completely believe it I would be a pessimistic, workaholic who is most likely obsessed with money and success...

10. If you had only one sense (hearing, touch, sight, etc.) what would you want?

Sight! I have so much respect for people who can't see or have really bad vision. I can't imagine not being able to see all the wonderful things life offers❤

11. Who is your favorite celebrity or idol?

BTS! Tbh I used to have a lot of ppl on this list but everyone so problematic, so far BTS aren't problematic and just overal sweethearts and baby! It's some of our toxic amry fam I wanna bash sometimes..

12. If you could talk to your favorite celebrity(ies) for a limited time, what would you tell them?

Like, thank you! For real! These guys are like a remedy for whenever I'm down or when my severe mental health issues start acting up again.

Also you guys are awesome, be healthy, be happy, be safe, never ever doubt yourself cause you're all doing a great job. Nobody knows what they're actually doing, life is weird but from what I can see you're doing a great job at it. One day I want to be able to help and impact others lives as much as you guys 💜

13. I’m taking you out on a date and it’s your choice. Where are we going?

YOOO!!! I have been thinking about this a lot as of recent years! Since romance seems to be non existent until now (someone was flirting with me for the first time and it was awful but a fun experience hahaha) I never thought about it. I knew dinner is off the table, because I just don't enjoy eating out. At first I was like going to the film is great, I don't have to talk and it won't be awkward. But that's just awful because how we get to know more things about eachother? So what I would really enjoy is going to an amusement park/carnival or fair (whatever it's called) or like fun game things like lasergaming/paintball/karting/arcade/ those wood climbing things? Idk what it's called. It's so much fun, it's active and you're getting to know each other! It doesn't feel formal and stuck up. After sometime I would also enjoy going to art galleries or museums, picknicks are cute too! But I feel like those are more intimate so I want the fun and crazy stuff first hahaha.

14. Do you like sweet or savory foods?

Savory kinda gall but I do love myself some sweets. So depends on the food.

15. Do you have any band merchandise or merchandise from any of your favorite artists? If so, what?

YES MA'AM!!!! so most is bts! Got key chains, BT21 YALL!!! album! Rubber bracelet, posters, pins and a gorgeous bag designed by my gurliepren! Also got an exo chain from a friend and that's it so far! I want more, A LOT MORE!!! because I stan enough peeps!

[alargebear]

Back Home

Summary: Dia comes back home after college and has a talk with a girl she could never forget about.

Words: 2.2k

Pairing: ChikaDia

Links: AO3

Note: Gosh it’s been a minute but I’m back with some simple ChikaDia sweetness. 

The gentle, warm breeze rolling off the waves signaled to Dia that summer was around the corner. Replacing that chill from the spring months, kicking off the start of a new season and for her a new path to walk. Staring out at the sea with a rather boisterous group behind the front door to a familiar inn, Dia was home truly for the first time in over four years.

 Visits from college and the few weeklong breaks were only a small taste of the home she never could soak in until now. With graduation only a couple days behind her, and a new life of work ahead, Dia took solace in the quiet moment of respite from the rowdy party thrown for her. Deep breaths and a content smile filled a moment that allowed everything to sink in. She was at home. Surrounded by seven girls she held closer than any she’d met in her years studying, and one that she never could move on from.

 A rattling of the door and a bump in the back drew Dia’s attention from the picturesque scene in front of her and toward the woman at her side.

 “I found ya!”

 Chika was as loud as Dia remembered. Hair still the same length with that signature braid and goofy little strand sticking straight up on top. Still smiling like always, still lacking any sense of personal space like always, still looking with eyes that knew a bit too much like always, and still gorgeous like always.

 “It’s not like I can out here to hide from you guys.” Dia looked back out toward the sea, Chika’s eyes too bright. “I needed a bit of fresh air, and I definitely did not need to be in there when Mari started pulling out the alcohol.”

 “If it makes you feel any better Kanan is trying to keep things under control a little bit.”

 “It doesn’t.”

 Chika laughed. “But you should come back inside. You’re kinda the star of the show here.”

 “I’ll be back in a couple of minutes.” Dia took a quick glance back to Chika, who stared with a shine too bright before looking away. “I haven’t gotten to enjoy this view very much lately.”

 Silence as they stood shoulder to shoulder. Dia didn’t know how long, her sense of time going haywire as Chika stood by her like nothing was wrong. Like nothing ever happened. It was reassuring in a way, to not have to worry about the bits of awkwardness that came in the times they talked in those first years after she left.

 “You can head back inside,” Dia said, motioning back toward the door. “I won’t be long.”

 Chika shook her head with a hum. “It’s nice out here. So I think I’ll stay.”

 Dia was never good at small talk, but something needed to be said. At least she thought something did. There wasn’t the tension she expected, but there was a tad awkwardness to the silence between them. A silence that in high school would have been filled with Chika’s inane ramblings that Dia missed so dearly. She rubbed her hands up and down the side of her dress a sweat beaded on her palms. Why couldn’t they go back to the way things were before she left all of it behind?

 “Are you happy to be back here?” Chika broke the silence.

 Dia met Chika’s eyes head-on. The question seeming out of the blue. “Yeah, I missed it a lot. Tokyo is nice, and there’s always something to do, but this is home.”

 A faint smile across Chika’s lips as she started. “So you’re staying here for good, right? You’re taking over for your parents, or whatever.”

 Dia nodded and didn’t miss the small sigh from Chika. “I’ll still have to travel for work and all that, but I’ll always come back.”

 “Good.”

 That faint smile turned into the bright grin that Dia was drawn in by five years ago. That playful grin and the shining glint in Chika’s eyes were the same as the ones Dia knew she would never be able to forget, and seeing them in person made her remember. Remember what she left behind.

 “Was Tokyo fun?” Chika asked. “It was so cool when we got to go there with everyone for Love Live.”

 “I didn’t get to see all that much of it.” Dia’s smile drooped, lips forming a straight line. “I was os busy with all my school work, and student government responsibilities that I didn’t have any time to get out and see as much of the city as I wanted to.”

 “Well, that sucks.” Chika kicked at a pebble that wasn’t there, smile holding. “I’d have gone all over the place and explored the big city.”

 Dia giggled. “And probably got lost and wouldn’t know what to do.”

 “Hey!” Chika pushed her face in closer. “That happened one time when we went there together, and it wasn’t even my fault.”

 Dia folded her arms. “I seem to remember you calling me because you couldn’t sit still while I stopped to use the restroom. So you wandered off and I had to go and find you.”

 Chika looked back toward the sea, scratching the back of her head. “Okay maybe it was my fault, but it wasn’t all that bad. I mean, we found that little cafe that had that tea you liked.”

 “You’re right.” Dia’s jittery heart was slowing, feeling herself fall into her familiar, comfortable rapport with Chika. “I wish I could remember the name of that place.”

 “So do I.” Chika’s excitement faded and warped into a bashful stare Dia hadn’t seen in years. “That was also when we had our first kiss.”

 The awkward tension was back as soon as it left, and Dia was unsure what to do. A topic she was hoping to avoid being brought up in the most nonchalant way by the person she least wanted to hear it from. She knew, deep down, that it was a talk that needed to happen. Seeing Chika smile at her like she used to made her remember. Made those long-dormant feelings rekindle into something Dia knew as her first love.

 The silence gripped for a few minutes longer. Dia’s hands were back at her side sweat began to bead behind her bangs. More deep breaths and an attempt to swallow down the lump in her throat were all she could muster. She didn’t know what to say. How could she? It was her idea in the first place.

 “Uhm, Dia?” Chika squeaked her question out. Her voice was fraught with worry and doubt so out of place. “Did you. Did you, ya know, meet anyone when you were in Tokyo. Cause I wouldn’t blame you one bit I mean it was four years ago and you’re pretty and I’m sure everyone there was super smart and pretty like you so I wouldn’t be surprised. I’m just kinda a little curious.”

 The knots in Dia’s throat tried hard to keep her words down, but she would fight through it. This was Chika, and she deserved nothing but Honesty.

 “There were two.” Dia’s answer was curt, her heartbreaking as she saw the life in Chika’s eyes die.

 “Of course there were,” Chika mumbled to herself. “Are you still…”

 “Oh, gods no. None of them were ever able to get very serious.” Dia’s words were quick doing anything she could to bring that shimmer back.

 A sigh from Chika, much longer than before. “Why not?”

 “I never had much time for it.” Dia looked to Chika, who shot back a look that said she didn’t buy it. “And honestly, I don’t think I was every looking all that hard for someone to love. Which now I can see wasn’t very fair to them while we were dating.”

 It was the truth, not all of it, but the bits that Dia was comfortable telling Chika. How could she say that she never truly got over some high school puppy love that made it barely a year? How could she say that she couldn’t get some loud, obnoxious, and, in her own words, normal girl out of her mind long enough to be with anyone else? How could she say any of that knowing she was the one that ended it all?

 “Are you still not looking?” Chika’s question was met with an odd stare from Dia. “For someone to fall in love with, I mean.”

 How open could Dia be? She wasn’t blind. The obvious pain that Chika was in from bringing the topic up was written on a face that Dia learned could hide things better than most thought. But she learned to read it. The jittery eyes, the uneven smile, and the dim eyes were things Dia wished she could say she hadn’t seen before. Chika was in pain, and searching for hope the Dia knew she could give, but was it alright? Was any of this fair to Chika? That rekindling love burning brighter and brighter and the sun dropped lower and lower behind the waves.

 It was Dia’s turn to be strong for Chika.

 “I’m not looking.” Dia wanted to wait, but Chika’s worsening mood forced her to keep going. “I’ve always only ever had one person in mind. Even during those years at college there was one girl who I just couldn’t stop thinking about, and no matter who asked me out, or who I tried to date, none of them ever came close to how I felt about her.”

 Chika was speechless, and Dia found it cute. A bashful yet scared Chika that was so new yet beautiful like all the Chika’s were. It was unfair of Dia, she knew that. To come back and expect things to fall into place like she never left, but the flame was back. The love was back faster and deeper than she expected.

 Licking her lips and with bright cheeks Chika looked up, rubbing her hands together with a nervous vigor. “Dia, I really really don’t wanna get my hopes up, but this girl. Is it.”

 “I know this is so selfish of me, Chika, and I’m sorry.” Dia didn’t want Chika to continue, the fragility not something she ever wanted to see again. “I said we needed to break up when I left and I think it was the right thing to do, but. Chika, I missed you so much, and I know things might not go back to the way they were right away, but I want you to know that I love you just like I did before. I’ll never ask for something this selfish again, but please let’s try again.” 

 There was a tug on one of Dia’s folded arms that forced them apart. A nervous hand interlacing their fingers with her own. So warm, an act of intimacy bringing a year’s worth of wonderful memories with it. It wasn’t an answer, Dia wouldn’t believe any of it to be true without Chika saying it, but it brought hope. Dumb, irrational, yet wonderful hope.

 “I never hated you or anything,” Chika said, voice trembling as she slid in, shoulder touching Dia’s. “I cried a ton, and if I ever vent to You again she might explode, but you were just looking out for me. I still think it was stupid, but you did what you thought was best. That’s what Mari and Kanan always told me at least.”

 “So?” Dia squeezed the hand in her own as if she were the one in need of reassurance. Asking a question she was sure she already had the answer to, but needing to hear it.

 A lightweight rolled onto Dia’s shoulder that she still knew from the weight. It was Chika’s head. Still accompanied by the faintest hint of oranges and comfort.

 “I’m so happy.” Chika sniffled. “I didn’t think you’d want me back. I thought you’d find some beautiful, smart woman in Tokyo that I’d never be able to compete with. Because I’m still  plain ‘ol me, and you’re even more amazing Dia, but I’m so happy because I never stopped thinking about you.”

 “I could never find anyone to replace you.” Dia hated that that side of Chika was still there, even after so long. “You’re the amazing girl who pulled me back into a wonderful life with friends that I’ll cherish forever, and I’m going to do whatever I can to make sure you understand that.”

 Chika nuzzled in closer. “I still love you, Dia.”

 Dia hummed, rubbing small circles on the back of Chika’s hand. “And I still love you, Chika. So much.”

 Quiet again, but this time Dia was content to sit and bask in it. The party back inside could wait. Knowing there was work to do, and that this was a start of something that would need the effort to grow. Those thoughts were for later. Instead, Dia enjoyed the moment alone with the girl she never stopped loving. Knowing it would be the first of hundreds to come.