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#I missed drawing them 🥹
saradiation · 5 months
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Sweater weather 🍂🦀❤️🍎
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vita-divata · 10 months
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Inosaku doodle based off that one Twitter meme about lesbian ships :3c
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anggeese · 8 months
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Kiss kiss kiss kiss kiss
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koffeenoe · 2 years
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simply-m-a-d · 1 year
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wittle Yullen doodle I made at work ( • v • )
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amiharana · 9 months
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Ghost of Chigago (Noah Floersch) is such a post calamity revalink song i'm sorry
(ghost of chicago)
oh anon don't be sorry this is such a cute and bittersweet song 🥹🤍
imagining it being sung from link's point of view, traversing the empty, rundown hyrule of botw after he beats the calamity and the spirits of the champions have already passed onto the afterlife, except for one. revali stays behind, and decides to watch over link; his spirit can't pass on because he regrets never having confessed his feelings to link back then, the least he could do was put it into something useful if he was to stay 🥹
and so revali becomes the ghost of hyrule, a ghost that link sees everywhere but can never catch up to. he's the mirage of a sharp glare in link's morning tea, the biting wind pinching link's cheeks in the flight range, the breeze that tousles link's bangs and tucks his hair behind his ears when he sits atop the rito rock pillar. a ghost too familiar from even beyond link's regained memories, one who never leaves him alone, found in every corner of hyrule but one that link can never corner and always slips from his fingers, just always out of his reach.
just... link traveling all over hyrule again and no matter, where he looks, he catches glimpses of revali everywhere, here and there, in the distance. this ghost that haunts him, but somehow seems to protect him and watch over him. this ghost that link dreams of sometimes, of a life that seems so far away, of one where they possibly loved each other. could it be true, that this familiar ghost once loved him?
(link wonders if he loved it back; and somehow he knows, that he did.)
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smiles-ocs · 1 year
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I drew some old ocs to give me serotonin and it’s my little guys 🥺🥺🥺
There’s my favorite baby girl Clover, my beloved son Zharyan, the best dilf ever Navann, the precious daughter Tanisha, the little scrunkley Danny, and the oldest Blorbo Kargon
None of these characters are apart of the same story/world except for Navan and Zharyan. They’re all different main characters for stories I want to explore someday! Gotta redesign most of them tho *glares at Kargon and Danny*
(Please don’t compare my characters to other characters)
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girltigerclaw · 5 months
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OK OK mini late birthday gift (i only used memory drawing ur guy im so sorry but heres some mommyclan yuri didnt expect this huh
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oh also tiger with sum birthday makeup LOL hope u like these itty bitty doodless
AHHHH HII GOOBS. THANK YOUUUUU. CRUNCHY YURI HAS RETURNED, THE WORLD IS HEALED!!!!!!!!!
Obessessed with the absolute distress on Cheetah’s face in the second one…
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einsatzzz · 4 months
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happy new year from my cute yakuza twin babies
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cowboyb1ues · 2 years
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It’s my final week at work and I have to say I’m gonna miss some of the kids…… like it’s actually making me sad😕🥺
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cryptoseraphim · 1 year
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I missed an entire week of work because I had an upper respiratory infection and needless to say I am very glad I am going back to work tomorrow lmao
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kookslastbutton · 2 months
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Those Eyes Chico ༓ myg (m) | chapter one
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✑ Summary: As the new marketing director for Min Yoongi’s upcoming D-Day album & tour, you’re expected to bring your expertise to the table. This shouldn’t be a problem—you’re the best in the business and you’re used to drawing a strict line between your professional and personal life. But what happens when the lines you’ve fought to keep as separate blur for the first time?
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pairing: idol!yoongi x plus size!poc!reader
genre/AU: angst, fluff, smut, slowburn, coworkers2friends2lovers, winter setting, forbidden love,
word count: 6.5k+
warnings: oc is 28, Yoon is 30, oc is not originally from South Korea, oc has light brown eyes, swearing, mentions of alcohol consumption, mentions of anxiety, panic attacks, body insecurities, fear of being blacklisted, emotionally restrained yoon, unstable parental relationships, conservative parents, rude Hybe executive that should be fired, bestie!tae is wonderful support 🥹, and cute yoon and oc interactions bc yeah....its thier first time actually meeting so it must be cute!
now playing: Sweet Dreams by The Last Shadow Puppets
a/n: YAHHH chapter one!! Ok i apologize if the meeting is so long and drawn out...I really tried to make it fun but so much info is needed too haha. Anyway this series is dedicated to my wonderfully crazy friend and sorta beta, Gloom @theuselessdaydreamingidiot, and to all our fellow Yoon lovers bc we miss our sweet man SO MUCH 🥺 Enjoy! 🥰 Also huge thank you to @itaeewon for designing this beautiful series header! Love it!!
Series Masterlist | next chapter >>
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Winter in Seoul feels like stepping onto the set of your most beloved holiday film.
As the brisk air wraps around you, delicate snowflakes gather atop your head, urging you to cocoon in your finest wool trench coat. Yet, despite the chill, the sight of frost-bitten trees basking in the morning's golden rays offers a source of warmth and delight. Perhaps the most radiant tree of them all is the towering Christmas tree that sits proudly in the heart of the city. Adorned with shimmering red and gold baubles, the giant evergreen catches the eye of every person that walks by–both tourists and locals alike.
Nearby shopping malls buzz with holiday fervor too as shoppers scour for treasures, couples engage in friendly competition to find the ultimate gift, and children line up to take their picture with Santa. But the best part is when night falls. The whole city comes alive with joy and laughter as loved ones meet one another on the ice-skating rinks, while karaoke bars echo tipsy renditions of timeless songs sung by overworked professionals, each with a bottle of soju in hand.
Yes, Seoul is a place for making memories and you’re in the thick of it.
Having been in the city for three years, one might assume you’ve become well accustomed to the energy of the season. You've really grown to love it here. But adjusting to the new environment is still proving to be a challenge, the most outstanding being the prevailing beauty standards.
Massive billboards featuring stunning models serve as constant reminders of the type of beauty one should aim to achieve as you commute to work. Impossible to miss are the shining examples themselves – iconic k-pop groups Seventeen, Red Velvet, EXO, BlackPink, Mamamoo, TXT, and of course BTS plastered on the side of every flat surface imaginable. You’re not exactly complaining about that aspect as you’ve helped design a good handful of them as a top marketing and advertising professional. But the strict image of what constitutes a beautiful and worthy individual weighs on you more than you’d like.
While a conventional body type isn’t what you’ve been given in this life, you don’t consider yourself to be completely unattractive either. Having high cheekbones, a strong jawline, striking light brown eyes, good enough ass, and a full chest shouldn’t classify as undesirable. Still, you wish you’d adopt this more body positive mindset rather than your current overthinking one. It’s easier said than done, being that you not only see idols everyday on the streets in digital form but at work as well.
You continue further into city until a set of tall, glass doors meet you mere steps away. You tilt your head back to catch the name of the skyscraper before nearing the building’s sturdy, silver handle.
BigHit Music.
Feeling its cool metal under your fingertips, the door swings open with an easier pull than imagined to welcome you into the bustling lobby. You feel a rush of confidence return to you upon entering– this is your domain, this is where you truly shine.
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“Did you get the files I sent to you?”
The woman nods her head in affirmation while sweeping a few pieces of her long, silky hair behind an ear. To strangers, she appears to look about 24 which is only four years younger than yourself but nonetheless she’s the same age as you. Hei-Ran is her name, meaning “graceful orchid” according to Korean translation.
Hei-ran is one of Hybe’s newest hires and based on her experience, a near perfect fit to being South Korean boy group Tomorrow X Together’s new marketing manager. Until about three months ago, this had been your job.
You never imagined giving up the position after three years of working in the role. But with December right around the corner Hybe had other plans for you.
"Graduated summa cum laude with a bachelors degree in BTech in Electrical and Electronics Engineering and a MBA in Marketing from NYU Stern. You worked two years as a brand manager for U.S record label Atlantic Records immediately after graduating, and are now working at BigHit Music as a marketing manager for TXT including liaison with their global marketing team.”
You recall Bang PD's voice vibrate in the back of your mind from mid-August. You thought you were called into his office to discuss details of TXT’s latest promo, so having your resume read back to you was a sweeping curve ball. Your determination must have far exceeded the heaviness you felt in your chest because before you knew it you, you were shaking hands with your boss in acceptance of your role – the new marketing director for Min Yoongi’s upcoming D-Day album & tour.
The tedious knot that’s formed in the nape of your neck reminds you that as surreal as the situation might be, it’s undeniably real.
Months spent drafting a comprehensive marketing proposal for D-Day; often until the wee hours of the night, inevitably takes its toll on even the mightiest of warriors. An entire new team of fifty people, all of who you’ll be in charge of orchestrating for the next eight months, doesn’t provide much to relief either.
You’re excited nevertheless. Working with one of the most respected artists in the music industry is an opportunity you couldn’t let slip by, especially since the album’s rock-inspired genre aligns closely with your own music taste.
“Thank you so much for helping me get settled __,” Hei-ran’s gentle voice returns you to the present. “I appreciate the time you’ve taken these last few months to train me despite the tight deadlines you have.”
Smiling, you shake your head. “It’s no problem at all and if there’s anything you need in the future, feel free to give me a call or stop by my office.”
“On the 16th floor right?”
“1656A. Take a left off the elevator and walk to the end of the first hallway. The door on the right is mine.”
Referring to any room on the 16th floor as your own is something you don’t take lightly. For one the offices are double the size of any other office spaces in the building. Yours in particular has a giant skyscraper window draped with heavy white curtains. Secondly, the floor above is the 17th floor which is exclusive to Hybe artists only.
"How's the proposal coming along, by the way?" Her curiosity is palpable, genuine in its nature. You’ve always appreciated that in an individual.
“It’s done,” you respond. “Only thing left to do is to prepare for our meeting with C-suite executives next Monday. It’s nearly perfect as is, but the presentation could use a bit of refining in terms of organization.”
Hei-ran is silent for a moment longer than usual before her next inquiry, which is undoubtedly the question on both of your minds. “I can't help but wonder what it'll be like to meet him for the first time,” she muses.
You don’t bother asking for clarification on who the “him” is; you’re already well aware that it’s Min Yoongi. The same subject has managed to intrude your own thoughts more and more as the date of meeting him draws closer. It's peculiar honestly, considering you’ve encountered him before.
Granted, it was only a small handful of times the hallway, both heading in opposite directions. Min Yoongi typically greeted you with a hoarse 'Good Morning' those instances, along with a curt nod of his head. You would nod back with a brief 'Morning' yourself. Deep down you feel he'd make a quality friend, though it's only a premonition. It’s not like you actually know much about him beyond those small exchanges.
"I'm not sure what to expect, honestly," you admit. "I imagine it'll be similar to previous professional collaborations—composed, focused, and intense. D-Day is poised to become a global sensation for the next year, so it's going to need our full, undivided attention."
Hei-ran gives a knowing nod. “Good luck __,” she wishes you well as you head towards the elevator doors. Breaks over, back to work.
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After another late-night prep session for Monday’s D-Day proposal, you trudge through your apartment door well past 8:30 pm with an empty stomach and a throbbing headache. Good news is that your graphic design team seems to be well on track with their album mockups ready to present.
The same can’t be said for your U.S. promo team however, who required additional guidance on their projects. The social media team was in a similar boat. Somehow several of their members lost track of time and were convinced the proposal was still two weeks away.
Despite the hiccups, you managed to tie up the loose ends, but it meant that none of you got to leave early.
When you finally get to curl up in your fluffy sofa, a loud, exasperated sigh leaves your lips. Your lids flutter shut too as you rest your head against the soft cushion. Silently, you make one last mental rundown of all the tasks you checked off today.
Did you miss anything?
D-Day is the most crucial project you’ve ever taken charge of—you need it to be flawless.
When nothing pressing comes to mind, you grab the tv remote from your dark oak coffee table and aimlessly flip through the channels. You’ll unwind for an hour and then call it a night.
Ten minutes into an episode of Brooklyn Nine-Nine and the light chime of your phone's notification bell catches your ear.
Tae 💚: Haven’t heard from you all day. Everything alright?
Taehyung, your best friend. You smile fondly at his message as your thumbs hover over the reply button. He's always checking in on you. You and Taehyung have been friends ever since you first moved to Seoul and started working at Hybe. You didn't expect your friendship to become this strong, but both of you are sociable individuals, which led to discovering several unexpected commonalities. One of those is a shared love for jazz, which has been one of your all-time favorite genres for as long as you can remember.
You: yeah, I’m good. Just tired. Been working on D-Day's proposal for months and finally got it fully prepped for.
Tae 💚: Well, that's amazing news! You feel good about it?
You: I don't know. I’m definitely ready for this project but I’m also starting to feel a little burned out. The proposal is only the beginning you know, and it's already taking the wind out of me.
Tae 💚: Sorry to hear that 😞 I'm sure it must be draining, but I also know this is your territory. No one is more fit to head this project than you. Everyone thinks so. How about you take the weekend to rest?
You: Yeah...I'm watching B99 rn
Tae 💚: B99?! Without me?
You can't help but giggle. Somehow over the course of three years you've roped your best friend into becoming obsessed with your mindless sitcoms. You've done more than a handful of binge watching together, until all hours of the night.
You: Wanna come over for an hour?
The company might be nice.
Tae 💚: Be there in 20 🏃
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Your door bells rings exactly twenty minutes after you and Taehyng finish exchanging texts. He's so prompt it scares you sometimes.
“Hey.” His deep, baritone voice greets you first, along with a friendly hug. Taehyung slips his snow covered boots off upon entering your apartment and hangs his wool jacket on your coat rack. His limited edition Gucci scarf is next. Taehyung loves the winter as it’s the time he can wear his most luxurious clothes.
“What’s this?” You peak inside a brown paper bag that Taehyung has conveniently set on your kitchen countertop. He flashes you a playful grin and gestures you to open it. Naturally, you're suspicious but it all washes away when a new, unopened bottle of whiskey presents itself. “Oh my god, you didn’t!" You swat his arm in a rush of excitement.
“I had to!" Taehyung opens a kitchen cupboard and grabs a glass from the top shelf. He's been in your apartment enough times that he’s grown comfortable with your place. That and he's also your best friend.
"With all the recent events you've had going on, I think it calls for a celebration." Taehyung expertly pours you a glass of the smooth, rich liquor and offers it to you.
“Thank you, Tae," you say, taking the glass from his hand. "Come sit down. Jake's about to sing I Want It That Way with the police lineup.” Taehyung pours himself a glass of Pinot Noir and follows your lead.
After about forty minutes of sitcoms and booze with your best friend you begin to feel yourself relaxing. Whatever challenges lies ahead, you know you'll be able to handle them one whiskey at a time.
All stream of thought is interrupted when your phone dings off again. It's now half past 9, who on earth is trying to reach you?
Fuck.
You tighten the grip on your phone as soon aa the message appears. Taehyung, previously occupied by the end credit scene, catches the sudden shift in your demeanor and calls your name but he's inaudible to you.
Mom: It’s been almost two weeks since we last heard from you. We know you're busy but your father and I want to know if you’ll be coming home. The holidays are coming up right? Why don't you use some of that time to come see us? There's someone we want you to meet.
"__, who is it?" Taehyung's voice manages to break your intense concentration.
“Just my mom.” You answer briefly, still averting eye contact.
“What’d she say?”
“She wants me to come home for the holidays.” You shut your phone off in an effort to calm yourself.
Unlike Taehyung your relationship with your parents has always been rocky. Expectations are set high from birth and you never see eye to eye. Likely, the only accomplishment that's earned genuine praise from them was when you accepted your initial job proposal with Hybe. A respectable career is only second to health to them after all. Your father was more torn with the news that you’d be moving hundreds of miles away than your mom however, not that you’re surprised.
Of course while having a healthy and respectable career is priority for your parents, there is no mistake that their greatest wish is to see their daughter married. A stable man with ample resources to provide her a secure home and healthy children is preferable.
You love your parents and you'll always be there for them, but you must admit that their traditional outlook is one you can never live up to. They tried setting you up dozens of times before, and tonight's request to have you come home "for the holidays to meet someone” is simply another attempt to marry you off.
Yes, you would like some sort of companionship in your life and you hope if you find it that they’ll approve. But giving your hand in marriage to the first notable suitor isn't your forte. You consider yourself to be an independent woman with a tender heart, and you'd rather be single for the entirety of your life than be forced into another obligation.
Preserving your independence is highly important to you. So no, you draw the line when it comes to relational affairs.
If only you could be firm and repeat all the above to them aloud, rather than within your own head— if only.
“So are you gonna go?"
You don't respond immediately, still weighing out your options. "Not sure," you murmur. "I don't really want to but maybe I should. I haven't gone home to see my parents since last year."
Taehyung recognizes the growing tension in your voice as well as the flushed expression playing on your face. He wishes he could take it all away but instead he moves closer to your side of the sofa and lets you rest your head on his shoulder.
"I'm sorry." He's silent for a moment before continuing. "Why don't you tell them you can't go because of work? There must be a number of things you'll need to get ahead of for Yoongi's album."
"True. But it's too easy, they won't buy that. I have to go."
"What if you say I invited you to celebrate with my family this year? We're going to a nice, cozy cabin a few hours north of here for Christmas."
The offer is temping and you know he means it but it's also not enough.
"No," you reject. "They'll think we're dating and ask to meet you."
"I'll do it!" Taehyung's voice lifts into a more playful tone, earning a soft chuckle from you.
"Very cute Taetae, but no. Neither of us are going to say 'that was a good idea' in the end, trust me. I'll have to make this decision on my own."
Taehyung grimaces slightly at your last choice of words. "I really think you should consider telling them you can't due to a full schedule. We don't get that much time off at the company any way. Don't your parents live at least 7-10 hours away? Come on, spend the holidays with me and the guys. Plus, it'll be my birthday soon. I want you there at my party."
When you look at your best friend to gently scold him for not so sneakily using the guilt tripping technique, he's pouting. Like a baby. Not even you can resist him with that face on.
"Fine. I'll think about it."
"Good," Taehyung chirps and snatches the tv remote to flip through episodes of Brooklyn Nine-Nine. "I want you to be around those closest to you, especially around the holidays. You're my badass best friend who deserves more than some stupid forced marriage to a guy with an unhealthy alpha male complex. Should we top the night off with one more episode by the way?"
You nod and Taehyung hits play on the remote. "Thank you," you coo, feeling a tad better.
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The weekend is a blur at best and you’re back at the office before you realize. Of course this is no ordinary work day however, given that today signifies the day you officially start work as D-Day’s marketing director. You’ve been perfecting every detail of the proposal like a madman since the beginning, meticulously obessing over every element. Your new team members must have a pretty eye-opening understanding of what it’ll be like having you as a lead for the next year–you pity them to be honest.
Between your fingers clutches a small tube of lip balm, berry flavored with a faint tint to match. You love chapstick for some odd, inexplainable reason and you felt the need to apply a generous amount of it on your lips for good luck.
“No one’s here yet,” Yi-joon, one of the members of your graphic design team, speaks first upon stepping foot into your assigned conference room. Others hum, unsurprised. Being the ones leading the presentation, you’d be startled if anyone actually arrived beforehand.
A grand mahogany table, seating up to 14 individuals, boasts itself to you in the middle of the room with every chair lined in genuine black leather. Traditional seating arrangements have one chair at the head of the table, but today’s meeting has two, both positioned to face the wide presentation screen at the opposite end.
Undoubtably, they’re reserved for Bang PD and Min Yoongi.
A momentary shiver courses down your spine, yet fades quick when one of your team members asks if anyone's seen the remote to the projector. There’s no time for nerves to be acting up, you remind yourself calmly. Only 15 minutes remain until every C-suite executive in Hybe congregates into the room.
With a composed demeanor, you swiftly gather your thoughts and respond, "Try checking inside the podium. It's likely close by, but if not, we can always power it on manually." You then start delegating tasks to the rest of your team, mentally rehearsing key points of the proposal between each instruction.
Time appears to have vanished in the blink of an eye because in a matter of seconds a gentle breeze slips through the conference door, accompanied by the arrival of several Hybe executives. You offer a polite "good morning," which is briefly reciprocated as they take their respective seats around the conference table.
You count twelve at the table in total, including your own team.
"Sajangnim should be here in about–"
Hybe's Chief Finance Officer doesn't get to finish his sentence when an older gentleman in a freshly pressed suit walks through the door, fully immersed in conversation. The person following close behind him is none other than the man of the hour himself–Min Yoongi, fitted in a clean white dress shirt that's unbuttoned at the collar and sleeves rolled to the elbows. His soft, raven hair falls gently in front of his eyes, framing his face a little too well.
Unexpectedly, both your gazes shift from Bang PD and onto one another. His dark, intense eyes pierce through you as they observe you from the opposite side of the room. You're certain he recognizes you from your previous shared encounters, though you don't have the slightest clue what he's thinking. Min Yoongi has been known to be many things, but an open book isn't one of them.
He then walks in your direction until he's directly toe to toe with you for the very first time. Completely against your wishes, you feel all the tiny hairs on the back of your neck stand straight. You've never officially met before.
"It's nice to finally meet you __-nim. Those nods we give each other in the hallway hardly count as a proper introduction." He extends a hand to you, offering you a sturdy handshake which you accept.
"Absolutely, it's a pleasure to meet you as well Min PD-nim," you say, smiling warmly. "I'm looking forward to working with you on your new album. I truly appreciate the opportunity."
For a split second, Yoongi allows his professional demeanor drop. "I should be the one thanking you. You'll be the one leading this whole operation right? So I'll be in your care."
You want to respond with gratitude, but you're not given the chance due to an authoritative voice speaking up from behind.
"Min PD-nim," Hybe's Vice President calls out to the man in front of you, requesting his attention.
Yoongi is hesitant to leave you mid-conversation but you assure him that it's alright. "Please, feel free to take a seat," you offer. "The presentations will begin soon."
A small, subtle smile graces Yoongi's lips before he turns around to take his seat beside Bang PD at the head of the table. He engages in small talk with Hybe's Vice President who's conveniently seated across from him. Yet despite their conversation, he's only half focused; his eyes repeatedly wandering back to you. At this point, however, you've already stopped looking at him.
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"Good morning, all," you address the room when the time comes to commence the meeting. "We'll be getting started now that everyone's here. I'm sending down samples of the album design our graphics team has created for D-Day. Please pass them along." You hand the stack of copies to Hybe's Chief Technology Officer who smiles courteously.
"On behalf of my team and me, I want to thank you for joining us today to discuss our marketing strategy for Min PD-nim's upcoming D-Day album. Our agenda will be as follows," you guide everyone's attention to the presentation board, which provides a rundown of all the points you plan to cover for the remainder of the meeting.
"Let's begin with introductions. My name is ___ ___, I hold a Bachelor's degree in Electrical and Electronics Engineering from NYU Stern, as well as an MBA in Marketing. Over the past five years, I've worked in the music industry as a marketing manager. Three of those years were spent here at Hybe. The recent promotional campaign for TXT's The Chaos Chapter was lead by my previous team and me, resulting in a positive return on investment. Now, with a new team, I aim to achieve similar success with Min PD-nim's D-Day album."
Once you finish your introduction, you introduce each member of your team. This is soon followed by a brief introduction from each c-suite executive.
The whole room falls silent when you begin diving into the bulk of the proposal; every measurable objective, goal, and market analysis is shared for D-Day. When it comes time to present the brand guide and album design, you invite your graphics team to speak.
"You'll notice that we have two versions of Min PD-nim's albums on the sheet in front of you," Yi-joon refers to the mockups you handed out earlier. A few executives nod quietly as they study the proposed album packaging while Yoongi leans over to Bang PD. He's whispering something but you're far to distant away to hear. His expressions aren't telling either.
Does he like it? Does he not? You don't know.
Nevertheless, you give a subtle smile to Yi-joon as encouragement to continue.
 "We've opted for a sleek, pitch-black design for the first version, and a dusty brown for the second. The first version symbolizes the past, characterized by societal expectations and internal struggles, while the second represents the present and future, conveying a message of liberation. To complement these themes, we've selected a bold and daring font to exude the album's transparency. This design consistency extends to the album's contents; for instance, lyrical cards will reflect the respective color and style of the version they belong to."
Hybe's Chief Marketing Officer appears to be in approval with the entirety of the plan so far, yet it's short lived when a low voice interrupts.
"I think the vision of album's design aligns closely with mine, so I like what I see in front of me." Yoongi pauses and places the mockup on the table. "There's one aspect that I'd like to discuss in hopes of some insight however. I've been mauling over it for a while now."
"I'll do my best to–" Hybe's Chief Marketing Officer opens his mouth to respond yet closes it immediately when he notices Yoongi's gaze sharply shifts to you. It's a signal that it's your insight he specifically requests.
"Please go on," you reply.
"Regarding the name under which the album should be released, should it be 'Agust D' or 'Suga'? I'm personally biased towards Agust D because it holds more weight for me. It's close to my heart and the stories I have to tell as Agust D are heavier than those of Suga, right? The D even stands for Daegu, my hometown where I grew up and where my parents still live. Suga on the other hand is my stage name, which I have some identity in as well."
You don't answer immediately, preferring to carefully process everything he's said. Your team has already proposed to release the album under 'Agust D', yet he makes a valid point that 'Suga' is also a part of him.
"I understand that releasing the album under 'Suga' has its merit. However, I still support the original idea of releasing it under 'Agust D'. As you've mentioned, the name carries a deeper meaning, evoking memories, emotions, trials, and tribulations. I'd also like to emphasize that by releasing D-Day under 'Agust D', you can showcase who the real Agust D is. The collaboration with IU in People Pt. 2 already has you one step in that door."
Like you, Yoongi considers your words cautiously, weighing them in his mind. "Thank you ___-nim," he finally speaks. "Your perspective is reassuring. We'll proceed with releasing the album under 'Agust D'.
Following your short discussion, the graphics team continues presenting their design materials. Minor comments are made by Hybe executives, but Yoongi doesn't comment again until half-way into the social media segment.
"Why do we need to schedule this many Weverse Lives? People might get tired of seeing my face after so many in a row. ARMY will read, 'Min Yoongi started a live' and say to their friends, 'This is the fifth time in a row, is he in love with his own voice or something?'." His joke sparks a light in the room as Bang PD gives a chuckle.
"I don't think that's going to be an issue for you Yoongi," he replies. "Don't you know the strength of your own fanbase?" Bang PD's statement is undeniable. Everyone in the room is well aware of Min Yoongi's international fanbase who willingly stay up all hours of the night just to catch a glimpse of him. In fact, rather than seeing less of him, they hope to receive his live notifications more, as Yoongi isn't as active on Weverse as other idols.
It's clear that compliments like these aren't easy for Yoongi to take though, judging by the flushed look that subtly sweeps over his face. You'd react the same way to be honest.
"If I may Min PD-nim," you speak up, deciding to offer an alternative plan. "Leveraging Weverse Live to help promote D-Day will draw significant international engagement. We know that time differences pose to be a challenge which is why we proposed an increase of live sessions per week. However, we understand that going live this often might be exhausting. Would you consider reducing the frequency to once or twice a week instead?"
"I'm open to once a week but didn't we film the 'Suga: Road to D-Day' documentary for a similar reason? Won't it be too much to add more than two Weverse Lives throughout the entire promotional phase?" Yoongi's challenge is met with an unanimous hum of support from his fellow executives. You'd feel intimidated if you didn't already have a justification mapped out.
"The objective behind releasing 'Suga: Road to D-Day' on Disney+ differs from that of Weverse Lives," you rebuttal confidently. "While the documentary presents a structured behind-the-scenes view of D-Day's development, the Lives focus on building hype among your existing fans who know you well, will spread the word to their peers, and will likely pre-order the album. As you're aware, Lives are more personal and stripped down, allowing your fanbase to feel closer to you."
Thinking of no further objectives, Yoongi, still somewhat unsure, accepts your suggestion. "Once a week will be fine then. While we're still on the topic, do we know when 'Suga: Road to D-Day' is set to release on Disney+?"
"Our digital marketing and promo team will be reviewing the specifics of that soon," you inform. "Right now we have the documentary releasing April 23 of next year. The poster for the film will release a week and a half earlier on the 12th."
Rather than furthering the discussion, Yoongi sends an understanding nod your way which allows the social media team to resume their portion of the proposal. Recording more Weverse Lives than usual remains a pain point for him, but he's willing to move forward if it means connecting with his fanbase.
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Alast, after what seems like three hours of social media; followed by financing & budget talk, the last team to present their material takes lead of the meeting.
"We'd like to provide a timeline for D-Day's promo schedule as a way to wrap up today's proposal," So-hyun from your digital marketing and promos team explains. "Promotions will begin April 10, 2023 and will run until April 25th. During this time the album's track list, concept photos, MV Teaser, and official MV will drop. As far as concert schedule, we're proposing April 26-June 24. These dates include U.S, Asia, and Korea Tours."
"We might need to rethink concert dates but for now I'm on onboard." Yoongi remains brief in his interjection, allowing So-hyun to continue.
"As far as other marketing channels, we plan to implement both print and digital methods including billboards, banners, paid search ads, and YouTube. We'd also like to reach out to a variety of magazines like Rolling Stones Magazine for interviews. If we want to extend our global reach even further, we can book a time slot on the Jimmy Fallon Show. Bare in mind that if we go this route, we'll need to decide fairly quick, as slots are in high demand."
You notice Bang PD whispering amongst Yoongi and his Chief Finance Officer when Jimmy Fallon is mentioned. Yoongi seems the least interested. Perhaps he isn't fond of being front and center of talk shows, you guess.
"When will we need a decision for the Jimmy Fallon Show?" Bang PD inquires for the group.
"No later than three weeks from now," So-hyun answers. "It's a tight deadline but it can been done if we get the official go."
Bang PD directs his attention to Yoongi who's chosen to be silent in this conversation. "What do you think, Yoongi? It's your call."
"Maybe," he says, "give me a day or two to think on it."
Another ten minutes of productive overview with your promos team pass and soon, you're standing up to adjourn the meeting. You have to admit that out of all the proposals you've given in your career, this goes right to the top.
Your team was phenomenal today, and despite the the fact that several Hybe executives are biting at the bit to finally go on their lunch break, you feel confident that everyone is leaving on the same page.
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"Min PD-nim."
You're ears inevitably pick up the conversation in front of you as you make your way out of the conference room. Yoongi and his Chief Financial Officer are running through some quick numbers only a few steps steps ahead, but with everyone simultaneously rushing in the same direction, neither must have realized you were within earshot.
"There's no doubt that she's good at what she does," Hybe's Chief Financial Officer continues. "Still, it's hard to believe that she's only 27 or 28. A person should take better care of themselves don't you agree? Like our Eunchae for example."
If there was a way to erase what you just heard, you'd do so, because in an instant, all previous successes you felt from today's proposal shatters to the ground. You're no stranger to receiving these sorts of comments about your appearance, yet it leaves your confidence fleeting, along with any amount of resilience you've built.
Blinking back the tears that threaten to spill, you exit the conference room the first chance you get. You have no desire to stick around for Yoongi's reply.
Not long after you leave does you phone ring off.
Tae 💚: Hey! How's the meeting going? Still available to get lunch this afternoon? I'm heading to the cafeteria as I type this.
You: It went okay. But I don't think I'll be coming to lunch, just a lot to do. I'm also not that hungry.
You second-guess how convincing your message is, knowing that it's your best friend on the other line. Regardless, it's the only words you can come up with right now. You really do have a lot of work ahead of you though, at least that part is true.
Tae 💚: Are you sure? I was looking forward on hearing how the meeting went! Wasn't there something you had to give me too?
The meaning of the last line suddenly dawns on you as you make your way down the long hallway. How could you forget? You made Taehyung one of his favorite foods to surprise him for lunch; Japchae, a sweet and savory dish of stir-fried glass noodles and vegetables.
You: Right, sorry it slipped from my mind for a second. I'll meet you in the cafeteria to give it to you.
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"Why won't you stay and eat with me?" Taehyung devours the homemade Japchae you made for him with delight, a pair of chopsticks clamped in his hand.
"I don't have much of an appetite, Tae."
You've already told him this twice already, clarifying that you'd be heading back to your office once you deliver his food. Evidently, he's not letting you slip away easily.
"Then take a break with me instead, even if it's only for ten minutes." You watch as your best friend swiftly pulls out the chair next to him from under the table, gesturing you to sit. "Tell me what's got you down," he says. "Did Yoongi say something to you? He can be a bit too outspoken with his opinions sometimes."
Feeling defeated, you slide into the chair. "No, the meeting was fine. I'm just overthinking something that happened."
You then proceed to explain what you overheard Hybe's Chief Finance Officer say about you from earlier, that you didn't look healthy enough for your age and using Eunchae as an example. The scowl that appears on Taehyung's face as you retell the incident is unmistakable–he's clearly pissed.
"First of all," Taehyung starts once you finish, jaw clenched. "Eunchae is 17 and is a part of a Korean girl group. She has an entire team dedicated to making sure her appearance is flawless. It's the idol life; trust me, I'm well acquainted with it, so it's not a fair comparison. Secondly, Hybe's CFO is an asshole who I'd replace in a day. I don't want you letting him make you feel insignificant just because you don't conform to his narrow idea of how a woman should look."
You appreciate Taehyung's efforts to cheer you up, though you remain unaffected. Besides, he still isn't aware of Yoongi's involvement since you purposely left that detail out due to their close friendship.
"Yeah, I don't know. We don't have to talk about it anymore." You decide to dismiss the topic entirely and reach for your phone, along with a pair of earbuds bundled in your pocket. "Wanna listen to something?"
Music has always bonded you and Taehyung's friendship, as you've frequently found yourselves fully immersed in timeless songs from King of Leon and Led Zeppelin together. Taehyung nearly accepts the offer to listen with you once again, but then he freezes all movement. An eager grin follows close after.
"Hyung!" His voice echos though the room, earning the attention of Min Yoongi who's just entered the cafeteria. This time, you feel nothing but discomfort when the man looks your way.
"I have some material I need to review from my promo team. I'll text you later, okay?" You leave your best friend no time to reply as you quickly rise from your chair, stick your phone in your pant pocket, and head for the nearest exit. Yoongi attempts to make eye contact with you on your way out, but you avoid it completely.
When he approaches Taehyung, he acknowledges your semi-odd behavior. "I didn't mean to make her leave," he states, joining the younger at the table.
Taehyung offers a light shrug in response. "Don't worry, you didn't. She had other matters to get to. Something with her team members I think."
Yoongi grabs a fresh clementine from a nearby fruit bowl and beings peeling it little by little. "You two must be pretty close if you're having your lunches together."
It's not hard for Taehyung to read between the lines of what his member is insinuating.
"We've been friends for a while," he clarifies. "Just friends, nothing else."
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a/n: Hope you enjoyed! Lmk what you think 🥰
Masterlist | Requests: closed | Taglist | Fic Recs
no reposting, copying, or translating my work– © kookslastbutton
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headkiss · 1 year
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anna <3 honey <3 hiii <3 i have a request if you’re up for it?
inspired by your latest shy!reader x eddie fic where it’s her first day at hawkins high— shy!reader being all heart eyes for eddie who pretty much worships the ground she walks on but somehow is oblivious to her feelings even though he flirts constantly just to see her get flustered. he doesn’t notice she’s only all sweet and giggly and nervous around him, though. she’s generally extremely shy so eddie figures that’s why, but it’s truly because she’s head over heels for him 🥹 a cutesy friends to lovers
harmonia my love !!! thank u sm for requesting i hope u like it this one’s for u <333 (the other shy!reader blurb) | 0.7k of fluff and shy!reader
You walk the unfamiliar halls in search of your next class. So far, unsuccessfully.
There’s a debate in your head: is it more embarrassing to be late to your class because you couldn’t find it, or to ask for directions like you’re a tourist in a new city?
You figure that embarrassing yourself in front of a class full of people is much, much worse than just one person. The next part is just figuring out who to ask.
Deciding to avoid any groups (even looking at them makes your heartbeat jump a little), you scan the hall for anyone that looks approachable.
For some reason, you land on the boy with long, dark curls and a tattoo of bats on his forearm. Yeah, super approachable. He’s alone, leaning next to what you’re guessing is his open locker.
You force your feet to carry you towards him.
“Sorry, could you maybe tell me where English is?”
“Wha- oh.” Eddie turns around to find you, a face he's never seen—a pretty one, at that—talking to him of all people. “Hi. Yeah, why don’t I walk you?”
“You don’t have to do that.”
Your voice is soft, quiet enough that Eddie probably wouldn’t have heard you if he wasn’t so focused on listening.
“Who’s your teacher?” You tell him, and he smiles, “me too. See, I’m going there anyway. It’s no problem.”
It’s then that you’re hit with the realization of how attractive he is. His eyes and the lashes that frame them, the smile that’s extra sweet compared to his style, the guitar pick that hangs from a chain around his neck.
The best you can do then is nod, untucking your hair from behind your ears to try and hide your face.
“So, why’d you move to Hawkins?” He asks, shutting his locker and nodding for you to follow him.
“Um, for my mom’s work.”
“Yeah? Do you like it here?”
“It’s different.”
You stick to short answers, not because you don’t want to give him better ones, but because you’re terrified of doing something you’ll kick yourself over for days.
“That’s one way of putting it,” he says, sending you a wink.
You laugh softly, a girlish giggle. It’s music to his ears, and he plans to draw the sound from you again and again.
You nod, looking down at your feet in the silence that follows, unsure how to fill the gaps. In your distraction, you bump shoulders with someone. A boy, probably an athlete, because it’s enough to knock you into Eddie.
He holds your upper arm gently to steady you, his hand warm, his rings cool.
“Sorry,” you say quickly.
“Don’t worry ‘bout it. You okay?”
“Oh, I’m fine.”
Despite your answer he keeps his hand where it is. He’s not dragging you along, nor is his hold tight. It’s so soft that you peek down at your shoes again to hide the look on your face.
Eddie thinks he might have dreamt you up. You in your sweet dress and mary-janes. You with a small smile he wants to see widen. He thinks you’re adorable, and he plans to keep talking if only to make you cutely flustered again.
He drops his hand from your arm when you make it to the door of your classroom to hold an arm out welcoming you inside. You miss the warmth of it.
You sit down at the back of the class, in the corner closest to the windows, hoping it’s not somebody else’s spot.
Eddie follows you and sits atop of your desk until the bell rings.
The teacher walks in and seems to notice Eddie’s presence right away, “Munson, what are you doing in my class?”
“I thought you had this class?” You whisper. He sends you a wink in return.
“Just visiting, sir,” he says, standing up and letting the attention fall on him. He can tell you’d be uncomfortable if it was on you more than it already is as a new student. Besides, he’s used to it, even if it’s usually in a negative way.
“Get to your own class, won't you?”
Eddie salutes, strolling to the door seemingly without a care at all. You watch him the whole time, and just before he turns the corner, he looks over his shoulder and smiles at you.
Did he really lie about being in your class just so you’d let him walk you? You sink down in your chair and smile at your desk.
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yooooo!!! you’re my favorite ethan winters artist i just wanna say that first and foremost, thank you for the wholesome content of my comfort character and father figure 🥹🫶
i’m really curious bc i feel like i see a lot of people against mithan (not me personally, i’m p neutral on them!) but i’m curious to know all your thoughts on them! thoughts on their canon relationship, their fanon portrayal, the backlash against them/mia accusations, and your headcanons? i’m just really interested!!! hopefully that’s not weird :”)
have a good day!! sparkle on!!! ✨💖
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i heart mithan... i think that they can be so cute...
i personally hc them t4t and i like to think that the dated in highschool before they both had fully transitioned
mia likes to bake and ethan likes to scrap book and he always likes to take pictures of mias cakes/ baked goods and has a album for them 😭
i am a multishipper so i draw a lot of ethan ships so my girl is left out sometimes and im sorry mia 😔
i actually really like their relationship, its a really complex dynamic that i like to talk about with my friends
i think the issue is that when talking about mithan or mia in general, theres just SO MUCH misinformation that its honestly a pain the butt to talk about
people still think that she was responsible for the creation of eveline, people still think that she experimented on eveline, people still use examples of her attacking ethan as if she did it on her own will instead of being mind controlled
in reality she was just someone who oversaw the transportation of evie. im not excusing her or anything because obviously she knew what she was doing, but people really try to accuse her of doing something she didnt and it bothers me alot lol
the problem with the fandom is that people either try to water her down to girlboss who did nothing wrong and fail to acknowledge the complexity/ moral grayness of her character and the other side is misogynists 😭😭😭😭
its hard to talk about her without people either going "stop trying to villainize her and make her look bad!" or people ACTUALLY villainizing her and acting like heisenberg would have treated him better 😭😭
mithan is such a sad relationship because they loved each other so much and that ended up being the reason their relationship fell apart (sort of... its not like the broke up... ethan kinda just straight up died)
i get a lot a trouble for saying this, but mia is a selfish person.
its not a bad thing! well i mean it is but it doesnt make her some evil witch who is somehow worse than the guy how made a werewolf american ninja warrior. its just a major character flaw she has! which is good! mia being a flawed person who makes mistakes and morally gray decisions make her a more interesting person!
she is selfish in the way that she wants to keep her family with her no matter the cost. even if it means lying to ethan about her job so that he wont think different of her. here is a interrogation from the re7 DLC, which is easy to miss!
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she isnt necessarily trying to apologize for the things she has done, she is more of a, "u wont need to forgive me in the first place if we just forget it all and move on"
she doesn't try to redeem herself for what she has done, she tries to move on and return to the normal life that she wants so bad. which is fine! everyone copes a different way and she has to right to move on from her trauma. the problem that lies in this is that she has a shared trauma with ethan who still has no idea what went on in dulvey and still effects him till the present (he is mold! this is a important thing to know! most people would want to know if they were a walking corpse)
she played a direct part in what happened in dulvey, and im not referring to the email, she did not send that. she never wanted ethan to come in the first place. she tried her best to send a video to him, begging him to forget about her because she wanted to protect him, BUT it didnt send.
he got involved because she was involved. its honestly a series of really really unfortunate events.
THOUGH! she did know what she was getting into. im tired of seeing the narrative that mia was innocent and didnt know what was going on or was simply a bystander. she knew what she was doing, she knew eveline was a bioweapon, she knew eveline was a child. she used a MACHINE GUN! she knows how to use weapons and was obviously trained for it.
she tried her best to keep everybody out of the mess, ex: warning the bakers not to take them in, warning ethan not to find her, sacrificing herself for ethan in the later half of re7
but again, those are the consequences of HER actions
her consequences just happen to get really big and end up hitting ethan on the head like a metal sheet 😭
their relationship is really so interesting, it makes me really sad to think about sometimes 😭they both went through something that nobody else would ever understand, in the end they really only have each other. they get moved to an entire different country and the dulvey incident gets covered up with a "gas leak"
its really tragic because their marriage definitely had some flaws and bumps. and i know im repeating myself but its because people always take this in the worst way possible but just because i say their relationship was rocky doesnt mean im saying they dont love each other!!! thats the entire basis of mias character!! saying she doesnt love ethan would destroy her entire character!
you can see in the re8 DLC how fondly ethan talks about mia! he loves her so much, though im not sure if his comments in the DLC are him narrating current (post re8) or his thoughts before everything went down and he died (pre re8)
everything mia did was because she LOVED ethan. she would never do anything to intentionally hurt him, she is not a cruel person. she hides the truth of her job from ethan pre re7 because she loves him and doesnt want her job to drive them apart. she CONTINUES to refuse to tell ethan the truth post re7 because she wants to move on a live a happy normal life with him and knows something like her being directly associated with the connections would probably cause (more) problems. she refuses to tell ethan that he is mold because again, hard to live a happy marriage with your husband after you tell him hes a bioweapon.
obviously i dont think it was right that she did this, thats what makes her selfish! she did it for herself! she did it for her family! she thought it would work out, she thought that they could move on and be happy together.
the issue is that ethan didnt want to forget. he wanted to know what happened, he wanted to know the part mia played, he wanted answers! which is reasonable! he knows to some extent that mia was partially responsible for his involvement and he was always suspcious that mia was lying to him about her job which is implied when mia says "you were right, i did lie to you"
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she doesnt learn, she doesnt stop lying, her lies get bigger and worse and it sucks yeah but it makes her so interesting!!! she keeps doing stupid things under the idea that this is whats best for her and her family, that if she hides this everything will work out and it will be for the better but its not!
just because telling your husband hes dead and a bioweapon is a hard subject to bring up doesnt mean you DONT bring it up. people shouldnt use that as a reason to excuse mia 😭, its a very bad excuse and honestly highlights how horrible their communication skills were. you cant just not tell your husband that he is actually infected with the mold and not tell him for the tree years between post re7 and pre re8.
im not saying these things to put mia down, or try and villanize her. these are all just actual things her character does! she isnt evil, but she isnt a knight in shining armor either. we need to be able to have talks about complex characters without crying everytime someone points out a flaw. characters have flaws! and mia just happens to have a lot of them!
im not mad at her, i dont dislike her because i think this way of her. shes a fictional character! you can like characters that are morally gray, or villains that drink blood and make corpse soldiers. they are fictional! pointing out the flaws of a character does not mean i dont like them.
i wouldnt call her "the real villain of re8" but i wouldnt treat her like a damsel in distress either. she is a competent person, she knows what shes doing, she has her reasons for doing them. she made bad descions with good intentions behind them! they can coexist and we should let them!
i like mithan! its a complex relationship because they both love each other so much but hurt each other in the process
talking about them is just a pain in the butt because talking about mia is a pain in the butt lol
i really hate how she keeps getting sidelined, its super frustrating to see mia get put in a cage in every game 😭
its even more frustrating that mia straight up just disappears???? in the shadows of rose DLC... like she just stops taking care of rose and theres nothing said about it. no reason or explanation. i dont think mia would ever ditch rosemary because she didnt care about her, but we probably will never know because capcom sucks at writing and they probably forgot the mia ever even existed.
all in all, i think the fandom is really just full of misinformation which make people either think mia is some horrible evil person, or its full of people who think that saying mia messed up is the equivalent of comparing her to wesker lol.
i really love mia, shes a incredibly fun and complex character, its just hard to enjoy her sometimes with the people in the fandom haha.
also ive got no idea what u meant by "the backlash against them/mia accusations" so sorry if i didnt answer that!
thank u for the ask! sorry for the long response!
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boneblushed · 7 months
Text
Glitch
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synopsis Rafe has a bad fall on the ski slopes. A temporary amnesiac, he falls in love with you all over again.
a/n oh Euro Trip Rafe I have missed you so bad 🥹
The velcro of your left glove snags, the worn edge catching on the handle of your ski pole. You sigh. The gauntlet cuff on the right side isn’t looking much better, all scruffy and threadbare so the underlying skin’s exposed.
“Hold on,” you call out, skidding to a reluctant stop.
It’s high time you replaced them with a newer pair, especially considering you’ve been using the same gear your parents bought you post middle-school growth spurt. But you don’t come to Aspen nearly enough to justify doing so at the moment; not that money’s a particular issue, it’s more so the inconvenience an unnecessary shopping trip will bring you.
“Dude. Again?”
You abandon the broken strap to send Topper a helpless frown. He’s a little way ahead, partially obscured by the crowd, but the exasperation on his face is made evident by his tone.
He draws nearer and glances down at the shaggy velcro, shaking his head disapprovingly. “We’ve gotta buy you a new pair.”
Above him, the sky is a gauzy blue, juxtaposing the sugary white hue of fresh snow.
“Not worth it Top,” you argue. The strap hitches again, an objection. “They’ll barely get used.”
“Doesn’t matter,” he answers, turning again. “Come on. I’m going to buy you a new pair.”
He’ll buy you a new one, your heart sings. And then it stops. You know better than to read into this gesture — he isn’t being chivalrous on purpose; when is he ever? This is the fourth time you’ve had to stop to untangle or readjust, and you’re pretty sure he’s just getting sick of you holding him up. Logic prevails, but your traitorous cheeks warm anyway, demure about the offer.
“It’s fine,” you insist. The velcro barely sticks when you refasten it. Fine enough. “Let’s keep going.”
You continue to push through the horde ahead of you, making your slow way toward the chairlifts. As you near, the ant-like skiers and snowboarders on the mountain become clearer, and you pull down your goggles, blinded by the sun’s glare.
That’s when the accident happens.
All of a sudden, but crashing in dusky orange slow-motion. Some guy hits a rocky bit of the slopes, losing control of his snowboard and nosediving into the snow. It’s a gnarly looking collision, made worse by his concerning lack of helmet, and you share a worried look with Topper before making your way toward him.
“Dude, fucking move—hey, sorry, best friend coming through—”
You startle, halting abruptly. You’d recognise that voice anywhere.
“—sorry, ‘scuse me gorgeous, I’m just gonna squeeze past you real quick—”
“Noah!”
In the split second that follows, you endure several emotions at once. The first: concern heightened ten-fold. Because if Noah’s referring to himself as the best friend, the some guy in question is actually Rafe Cameron.
The same Rafe Cameron that you love to hate, almost as much as your poor heart avows it.
The second: a concerning ache. Right at the centre of your chest, within your ribcage, as if the tired ligaments that hold it together are as weak as your velcro straps. The feeling swells, and you feel your heart squeeze through the cracks.
And then there’s apprehension, some excitement, a sudden bashfulness that makes your cheeks burn.
All round pathetic. You force a smile that’s more a grimace, hoping that Noah doesn’t notice your disquiet.
He pauses en-route, a surprised expression on his face. “Y/N!” He exclaims, breathless. The surprise melts into a mixture of delight and amusement. “Tell me you witnessed him bailing just then.”
You sigh. “Unfortunately.”
“Good,” he replies soberly, linking his arms in yours and tugging you forward. Your ski poles cross in protest, your centre of balance askew. “You’re coming with me.”
“What?” You ask, evidently bewildered. “Noah…”
You twist around and find Topper in the crowd, who shrugs, equally perplexed. Help me, you mouth, though you’re moving ahead too fast for the poor boy to discern it.
“…uh,” you try again, turning back to the face him, “I don’t know if this is —”
“Y/N,” he interrupts matter-of-factly, zig-zagging through the crowd with ease. “If there’s one person that can talk some sense into him, it’s you. I mean, shit, did you see how fast he was going? He’s going to board himself into a fucking coma if he keeps doing stupid shit like that.”
This brings a pause. It’s sort of endearing, really, how fiercely he cares about Rafe.
Your gaze softens a smidge. “You’re a good friend, Noah,” you say. “He’s pretty lucky to have you.”
“Us,” Noah corrects.
Your pulse jolts. “He doesn’t have me,” you reply, frowning a little.
“Everyone else may believe that Y/N, but I don’t.”
And again, a terrifying emotion bounding forth in your chest. “I —”
You’re saved the trouble of sputtering through an excuse by Rafe’s languid groan, a thready-sounding, “Shit.”
The crowd parts at Noah’s command, and the pair of you squeeze through, now face to face with Rafe.
He’s splayed out on the snow with his limbs in disarray, only one of his boots still strapped onto his board. His cheeks are a chilly rouge, dirty-blonde hair sticking out at odd angles. You resist the sudden urge to reach forward and comb your fingers through it.
“Idiot,” Noah mutters, crouching down beside him. “Absolute fucking idiot.”
He unfastens the aforementioned boot and tosses his board to the side, the nose-end looking notably abraded.
“Huh?” Rafe mumbles, a little dazed. He gropes at his purple-hued goggles blindly, pulling them off to squint up at Noah. It takes a worrying number of seconds for recognition to dawn on his features, and when it does, finally, Noah turns around and beckons you forward.
You hesitate, your gaze flitting down to Rafe’s face. “Someone should call Ward.”
“No!” Rafe yells suddenly, attempting to push himself up before collapsing backward languidly. He clutches his left side and groans, his eyebrows pinching in pain.
His discomfort makes you wince. You spring into action without meaning to, that concerning ache in your chest pulling you forth until you’re crouching down beside him like Noah.
“No Ward,” you murmur, placing your hand on his shoulder. “Noted.”
Up close, you can see a cut on his bottom lip, the rough stubble on his jaw all dewy from the melted snow. Your brow furrows. As he tears his gaze away from Noah to face you instead, you brush back his dirty-blonde fringe, searching for any more injuries. He has a graze on his upper forehead and you thumb over it gently, the furrow in your brow deepening with concern.
You glance up at Noah and nod. “Absolute fucking idiot.”
Rafe tries to do the same, but a sharp ache sears through his head when he attempts to turn it again.
“Stop moving it,” you instruct sternly, exerting more pressure on his forehead to hold it in place. “Noah isn’t going anywhere.”
“Have to,” he groans, his voice all gravelly and rough, “make sure he’s still here.”
He’s almost certain that Noah won’t be, that he’ll turn to him and find that the two of you are the only people sitting on the slopes. He imagines it like that scene at the end of Deathly Hallows, everything in blinding white and playing inside of his head.
You know, because he’s almost definitely dreaming if you’re crouching down beside him right now. With a soft hand on his shoulder, another pressed over his forehead. Two points of contact, he marvels, dazed. He squints up at you again, his reverent gaze falling over you in paces, and it feels as though a fog is descending on his surroundings. Everything blurs. He blinks abruptly.
“Dude,” Noah chastises, leaning over Rafe’s torso so that he’s within his line of sight, “where the fuck would I go?”
Rafe’s eyes widen, and he looks between you and Noah, evidently bewildered. “Bro,” he groans after a pause, his head falling back defeatedly. “I’m fucked.”
Your heart lurches worriedly, and you frown, looking over his figure for more injuries. “R’you in any pain?”
“Not physical,” he mumbles, lifting his head tentatively to squint at you. He drops it again and groans, overwhelmed by your closeness. “You’re really fucking beautiful, by the way. It’s messing with my head.”
You roll your eyes, feeling a tell-tale warm creeping up your neck. “Alright, you guys can go,” you say, turning to address the crowd. “He’s totally fine.”
Noah grins down at him, looking equally parts proud and exasperated. “There he is.”
Rafe isn’t sure what that means. All he knows is that he doesn’t feel fine, his head’s all jumbled and there’s a dreadful ache in every one of his limbs. The sound of blood pounding through his ears is unrelenting, and the chill in the air is downright abrasive. Not to mention, there’s this angel reincarnate that’s leaning over him at present, a concerned expression on her face that’s somehow making her look prettier.
Two points of contact, Rafe thinks again, agonised. Your softened features come to him in slow motion, the light reflected in your wide eyes, the shine of gloss on your frowning lips. You look extremely familiar, but he’s having difficulty recalling your name. There’s this overwhelming pull in chest that tells him you’re a big deal to him—his girlfriend, he hopes, aghast and probably deluded. That’s the concussion talking.
Besides, he isn’t even entirely sure that you’re actually real, all things considered.
“We should probably get him checked out, huh?” You ask Noah.
Noah knits his brow thoughtfully, peering down at Rafe. “You good, Cameron?”
“I feel fucking hungover,” Rafe mutters, pushing himself into a sitting position. Your hand falters as he hangs his head forward, and he reaches up, pressing it back into his skin. The rough pressure makes your breath hitch, less languid and more sure than he’s been since he bailed.
“You’re concussed,” you correct meekly, frowning down at him.
Rafe tries to shake his head, wincing as another bolt of pain shoots through it in dissent. “No,” he says, quick to fix his features. He grins dazedly. “I’m Rafe Cameron. And you’re… well, I hope you’re my girlfriend or something, because otherwise this heart attack in my chest’d be pretty concerning.”
You breathe out a scoff, mildly exasperated. A little relieved. If he’s well enough to remember to be an incessant flirt, he’s well enough for the concussion to not have caused any permanent damage.
“Alright, nevermind, no medical attention necessary,” you mutter, sending him a glare. It’s hard to hide the fact that your palms are clammy when you pull them away.
Noah loops his bicep under Rafe’s and pulls him to his feet, steadying him in place. The throbbing in his forehead intensifies, and he groans, staggering forward and doubling over.
“I don’t know, Y/N,” Noah replies then, frowning. “Maybe I’ll give my mom a call, just to be safe.”
“Your mom?”
“Dr White,” Rafe supplies, forcing himself to straighten. He tries to control his breathing, ignore the way his surroundings seem to be spinning.
Everything except you. His focus acquiesces. He must look pale or something because your gaze is apprehensive, this pretty furrow in your brow that he wants to smooth his thumb over. God, he must look pathetic right now, weak and mildly concussed, the aforementioned bail notwithstanding.
So he lies, adding, “Don’t worry about it White, I’m good,” mostly for your benefit—so you don’t think he’s some fucking chump who can’t handle a bit of a tumble.
He wants to impress you, bad. He plasters on another grin, going for roguish and landing on dense. “Would be better if you let me take you out later.”
“No way you’re asking me out right now,” you reproach, sending him a glare. “You almost just died five minutes ago, and that’s the first thing on your priority list?”
“You are, yeah,” he agrees, still grinning. He tries to walk toward you, staggering a little. “Seriously though, this has gotta be fate — bailing real fucking hard and finding a beautiful stranger along the way.”
You blink. “Beautiful stranger?”
“Heavy on the beautiful,” Rafe agrees, lumbering forward clumsily.
“Stranger?” You repeat, and then you falter, glancing down at his feet. “Rafael —”
He loses balance far too quickly for you to intervene, and he falls against you heavily, causing you to topple into the snow. Biting cold on your back, delightful warmth on your chest. His instincts must be somewhat intact, because he manages to hold his weight up despite being right on top of you.
Like, right on top of you. A terrifying emotion sears through your chest. The smatter of freckles on his nose are almost faded, his cheeks a brilliant rouge, snow-burned lips parted slightly. His overgrown locks brush against your forehead, just.
“Sorry,” he breathes out, and then he pauses, his gaze flitting to your lips. In the beat that passes, he agonises over the soft planes of your face, how pretty your eyes are up close. His heart’s just about pounding through his skin. How kissable your lips look, your cheeks, your neck, how right your figure feels pressed into his. His palms feel clammy; that hasn’t happened in a long while. He thinks, oh shit. And then, I’m absolutely fucking fucked.
You swallow, watching his pupils dilate. “Cameron. I need you to focus for a second.”
“Listen,” he murmurs, ignoring you, “D’you believe in love at first sight?”
“Rafael —”
“Because I know we’ve only just met,” he continues, drawing closer still, his heady gaze deepening, “and that — shit, I don’t even know your name, but I’m pretty sure that if I don’t kiss you right now I’m going to go fucking insane. That’s crazy, huh? I think you make me crazy. Have I mentioned that you’re really fucking beautiful yet? It’s messing with my head. Wait — I think I might’ve said that already —”
“Rafe Cameron,” you interrupt again, your eyes widening slightly. “If this is some stupid prank —”
“Prank?” He echoes, frowning slightly. He leans forward a little, brushing his nose against yours. Your pulse jolts. “You’re a prank.” He groans then, dropping his head to your shoulder. Your closeness may quell the pounding a smidge, but not completely. “You’re not real are you? I’m dreaming all of this?”
Your lock eyes with Noah over his head, sending him a worried look.
“Rafael,” you try again, pushing him off you and sitting up carefully. “This isn’t funny. I’m so beyond serious.”
Rafe, still splayed out on the snow, angles toward you with a furrow in his brow. “I’m confused.”
“Noah,” you say then, your voice louder, a little panicked. “I think you will need to call your mom after all.”
Noah frowns, crouching down beside the pair of you. “What’s wrong?”
“What’s wrong,” Rafe answers, groaning in pain as he sits up. “Is that I’ve made a fool out of myself in front of this gorgeous stranger.”
“Ask her,” you continue, your heart feeling a little odd, “how long post-concussion memory loss takes to wear off.”
Noah eyes widen, searching Rafe’s face for any signs of mirth. “No way,” he says. “He’s gotta be fucking with us.”
“There’s an us?” Rafe echoes, raising his eyebrows at Noah. “Dude. Did you know your girlfriend’s a fucking smokeshow?”
“If this is some new pick up line you’re trying,” he replies, eyeing him warily. “It sucks ass Cameron.”
“Oooh, territorial,” Rafe answers, grinning dopily. He props himself up further, leaning closer to you and lowering his voice to a stage whisper. “You’re totally out of his league, by the way. Pretty sure you’re like, out of the Earth’s league.” He frowns. “That doesn’t make sense,” then groans, “fuck. Having a concussion is like drinking on an empty stomach.”
The pillow of his bicep presses into yours, full well engulfing it. You turn to face him, chewing on your bottom lip worriedly. If this was his idea of a prank, you want to believe that he wouldn’t let it go on this long. Especially not when you and Noah look so concerned, the latter retrieving his phone to give his mother a call.
“Hey mom,” he says, sandwiching his phone between his shoulder and ear and getting to his feet. You do so too. Rafe staggers to a standing position far more clumsily. “Yeah — no — the snow’s been sick, but I’m calling because something’s happened with Rafe. No, no, nothing too serious, he’s just a little concussed and may have some temporary amnesia. I was wondering if…”
“Maybe we can go on a double date,” Rafe tries again, grinning hopefully. There’s a bit of snow that’s melted on your bottom lip from the fall, and he aches to thumb over it, tuck his fingers under your jaw. “You, Noah, me.”
“No, no, he remembers me,” Noah continues, sending you a significant look. “But he doesn’t remember — yeah, it’s pretty selective — uh, maybe a few meters? Uh… no, what the hell’s a trigger? I’ll…”
“What d’you reckon?” Rafe prompts.
Noah turns away and you move your gaze to Rafe, half amused, half exasperated. “You, me, and Noah? Who’re you going to bring?”
“You,” he replies, like it’s obvious.
“And Noah?”
“Me.”
You breathe out an exasperated laugh, shaking your head. Rafe thinks it’s the prettiest sound he’s ever heard. His already muddled brain short-circuits for the billionth time.
“…half an hour?” You hear Noah affirm, the frown on his features audible. “Yeah — no — it’s been just over that — a trigger like what, though? What d’you mean you don’t know him as well as I do, he’s been coming to our house since he was like six years old…”
You don’t realise your brow’s furrowing until your feel Rafe’s rough thumb brush over it. You startle, feeling your skin warm as you look up at him.
“I’m lucky,” he murmurs, his Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat.
You swallow. “Why?”
“You’re worried about me.” His hand drops to your jaw, thumb swiping over your cheek. You swallow instinctively. “And you’re way too beautiful to be worrying about someone like me.”
“You’ve lost your memory,” you answer weakly. “Anyone’d be worried.”
“I find that hard to believe.” He draws closer.
“Which part, exactly?”
“That people would worry,” he answers quietly, his voice gruff. Closer still. “That I’d forget about someone like you so easy.”
“But you have,” you prompt.
“Then remind me, sweetheart.”
“Not your sweetheart, Rafael,” you murmur, trying for a frown.
“Not my — wait.”
The thumb that’s swiping over your cheek freezes suddenly. “Wait,” he repeats, blinking several times. He scrunches his eyes shut, retrieving his hand to clutch it against his forehead. “Wait — fuck.”
You lean forward instinctively, tugging his arm away to look over his features, his concerning graze. “What? What’s wrong?”
“I knew…” he answers, shaking his head and groaning, “…but…shit, it’s so fucking obvious now —”
You furrow your brow in confusion, locking eyes with an equally bewildered Noah.
He holds his phone away from his ear, walking over and surveying Rafe’s features. “You good, brother?”
“Fine, shit,” Rafe curses again, scrubbing his hand over his face before meeting your gaze, chagrined. He grins hopefully. “That might’ve been quicker with true love’s kiss, though.”
You aren’t about to believe that he’s back without concrete evidence. “And my name is…?”
“Mrs Cameron,” he replies seriously.
You let out a scoff, more relief than indignation, catching the twinkle of mirth in his eyes. “Don’t ever do that again, you hear me?”
“Maybe,” he answers, raising his eyebrows, “if you let me take you out I’ll be too busy to bail.”
You roll your eyes. “Nice try.”
“But I’m maimed, sweetheart,” he adds, brushing back his dirty-blonde locks to show off the forehead graze. He pouts for good measure. “C’mon. Not even a pity date?”
You shake your head exasperatedly, catching Noah’s eye over his shoulder. ���You’ll take it from here?”
“What? You aren’t gonna hang out with us?” Noah asks, pressing the phone against his chest. “I thought you were my girlfriend, Y/N.”
“Off limits, bro,” Rafe says matter-of-factly.
You’re about to protest when he draws closer and ducks his head, his warm breath on your earlobe cutting you off. “I won’t ever do that again,” he murmurs, the smile on his face audible, “I promise.”
“Good,” you answer, frowning sternly.
“Oh, and Y/N?”
You turn toward him, startling at his closeness. “Hm?”
He grins wider, brushing his nose against your fleetingly. “Missed remembering you bad, dream girl.”
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ssahotchnerr · 6 months
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how about doing a birthday celebration with the team for aaron and he feels overwhelmed bc he’s so used to doing nothing for his birthday since haley passed and felt alone even with jack <333
celebrated
happy birthday aaron 🥹<33 cw; established relationship, mentions of haley, aaron self deprecating (it's sad - i'm sad), references to alcohol, mentions of food, hurt to comfort wc; 1.4k
about an hour or so in, you found aaron in the kitchen, half sitting-half resting against the counter. the man of the hour had been missing in action; he'd gone in search of a drink a while ago and had yet to return.
it was november second, aaron's birthday, and the first birthday you were spending with him. naturally, you wanted to go all out, for aaron to feel nothing but loved on his special day.
it wasn't a surprise party, aaron had been aware the whole time (you knew he didn't favor surprises too much), but had zero part in planning. he was only aware of the time jess were to drop over to pick up jack for the night, and the time of which the others would be arriving at the apartment. which, had been swallowed up with balloons, colorful streamers, confetti was scattered across the floor (which truthfully you were dreading picking up later, and hopefully you all wouldn't still be finding pieces for the next month), a banner was hung on the wall. his team were all in attendance, drinks were flowing, lively conversations were being had, a table of god only knew how many appetizers.
it was going nearly as perfectly as you had visualized, mind the part where aaron snuck away.
"hey, you alright?" you sidled up to him, your hand comfortably resting on his back.
aaron nodded, meeting your eyes as he lifted his drink to his lips. his eyes maintained their usual soft glow, but appeared down. "all good."
you weren't convinced, your puzzlement clear. "but you're hiding?"
"i wouldn't call it hiding." he chuckled softly, a sigh leaving him as he set his glass of whisky down. "just soaking it in? the night's been great, don't get me wrong. but it feels... strange."
you moved in front of him to wrap your arms around his middle, pulling him flush against you. "can i ask why?"
"the last time i had a banner," aaron chuckled again, a melancholiness suddenly overtaking him. "jack was practically a newborn - haley's doing."
"oh."
"yeah." aaron's hand ran up and down your back instinctively, mindlessly drawing shapes. "brings back memories."
"god i can only imagine." you sobered, tucking yourself more into his chest. your ear was pressed against him, hearing his steady heartbeat.
"i guess overwhelmed is the correct word to describe it. haley always went all out, then the divorce happened and then..." an exhale left him. "birthdays since, never did anything. i guess it was acknowledged but never celebrated. come to think of it, i don't think i've ever celebrated with the team."
as if on cue, a loud commotion came from the other room - team mid-drinking game.
once it had died down, you queried, "how come?"
aaron continued, the hand on your back rising to the surface just below your neck, finger pads pressing into your skin comfortably. "some years we were on a case, penelope hosted her Día de los Muertos parties, or everyone was still recovering from halloween. trust me, i'm sure no one would be too keen on partying again the next night. and you know me, to them, i'm not the heartfelt, full of life, approachable type. not worth it." he laughed, but it was more so an attempt to brush it off.
but it didn't sit right with you - of course it didn't. "did you ever say something about it?"
"it's okay." it wasn't, and he didn't answer your question. "i felt alone, sure, but when didn't i? i managed, and just took jack out for ice cream if i happened to be around. i don't think he ever knew the reason why, either."
you craned your head up to look at him. this surprised you. "you never told him?"
"it's," aaron paused, exhaling a breath. "complicated. he knows but he doesn't. he's young, the only dates he's technically supposed to remember at seven are christmas, halloween, his birthday." aaron shook his head, feeling almost silly. "what was i supposed to do, just out of the blue state, 'it's my birthday'?"
"well, it wouldn't have hurt. he could've made you a card, or wished you happy birthday at the bare minimum."
"i didn't want to inconvenience him-"
"aaron," you laughed sadly, your heart shattering at the same time. "he's your son."
"it's okay." there it was again. "my birthday wasn't a huge deal growing up anyway. if i wasn't as gravely punctual as i am and paid attention to the date, it most likely would pass as any other, normal day."
you fell silent; having so much to say, but having no idea how to fully express it. you just felt, sad. for him.
aaron sensed your dropping demeanor, and placed a kiss on your forehead to hopefully counter it. "it doesn't matter much now. i have you."
"but yet, you're still here rather than out there." you nudged your head towards the direction of the distant yells. "and i didn't even think about you potentially getting overwhelmed, i'm sorry. this party, it's an almost drastic change come to think of it, and i should've-"
"are you kidding?" astonishment reigned in his voice. "the fact that you went through all this - planning, coordinating, decorating - for me. it makes up for all those years alone. and i'm not just saying that because i love you." he gave you a cheeky expression, but you knew he was only playing it up to lighten the situation, despite his genuineness. "even breakfast with jack in bed this morning. i never pictured myself as the type to get breakfast in bed, stuff like that doesn't happen to me. it was really, really special, thank you."
"well, you better get used to it." a rush of air left your nose - makeshift laughter - as you thought back to earlier in the day. "not only was it a hit for you, but jack as well. he already brought up pancakes instead of waffles, with sprinkles, for next year."
a laugh shook through aaron's chest, jostling you a bit, before he fell silent, his fingers brushing through your hair soothingly.
"you deserve to be celebrated." you offered softly, the solemness reentering your heart, although it never left.
it weighed heavy on you - the man who gave you everything, who made you feel like you were everything, and who deserved it even more, defining himself as close to nothing. it was in complete aaron fashion, but you wished he wouldn't downplay, everything about himself, or make up 'rational' excuses to be okay with being overshadowed. he wasn't only meant to be there for others, to be thinking of others - he deserved happy, simple things too.
aaron's expression started to pull into one of disagreement, but you were quick to halt it. "hey, no. you deserve to be celebrated. i can't even tell you how much your existence means to me. being with you, doing life with you, seeing you be the best dad to jack and the most integral leader to the team. they value you, trust you, and you're family to them. they wouldn't be here tonight if you were some hard ass who wasn't worth it. that's not you. and i thank the stars every day you're here with me."
"honey-"
"please. say it."
nothing short of longing was cast on your face, in your eyes, and aaron were suddenly afraid that if he didn't admit so, the tears would start rolling.
he sighed, "i deserve to be celebrated."
"no, you gotta say it like you mean it."
aaron playfully rolled his eyes, but caved, his tone more forceful this time around. "i deserve to be celebrated."
"you're damn right, and you better start believing it."
aaron took a deep breath, pressing his lips to yours. "with you around, i will. thank you, i love you."
you returned the kiss, giving his chest an affectionate pat. "c'mon, let's rejoin your party."
you started exiting the kitchen, but aaron stayed put. when you looked back, another melancholy expression painted his face, and standing there, he almost looked younger for a moment.
"babe?"
"it is nice. not feeling like a drill sergeant for once."
your lips tipped into a smile as he moved closer, brushing your hands along his torso as soon as he was in reach. "they love you."
one of his rare, small but charming smiles adorned his face, brown eyes aglow. "i know."
"i love you."
aaron grabbed one of your hands, allowing you to lead him back to his party.
"i know."
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