#also I answered half of these in the middle of a concert so just picture that

[cherrylng]

Showbiz Interview [STYLE Series #004 - Muse (August 2010)]

"We grew up with a constant awareness of computers and technology, and I think we have a different attitude toward those things from the generation of Radiohead and others."

Interview and text by Tomokazu Hiroi (first published in Cool Guitar VOL.4) pix Yoshika Horita

On March 1, 2000, Muse held a memorable first concert in Japan at Shibuya's ON AIR EAST. Despite being a brand-new band that had just debuted in September of the previous year, the band's performance was confident and dignified. However, Matthew was still very new when he appeared for the interview, and he seemed a little shy when answering the question. Nevertheless, he calmly and carefully answered our questions, choosing his words carefully. At the time, he still had an innocent expression on his face and a boyishly slender body. I was left with a strong impression that I wondered where his power on stage came from. Incidentally, since this interview was taken for “Cool Guitar,” a guitar playing magazine, some of his comments about effects appeared in the interview.

Picture: Backstage at Summer Sonic in Osaka, 2000.

—First of all, I was surprised at your performance yesterday, not only by your technique, but also by your stage presence, which was far beyond that of a newcomer, and by your magnificent vocal performance. I think this is your first time in Japan, but it must have been a solid experience. Matthew: Thank you. We really enjoyed the gig yesterday. I thought we might be a little intimidated since it was our first gig in Japan, but our fears were quickly dispelled. I had heard that Japanese audiences are quiet…… I felt that way at first. But in the middle to the latter half of the show, they really expressed how much they were enjoying the show, which made it much easier to play.

—I got the impression that the live performance was quite different from the album. What I felt most strongly was the very positive atmosphere of the live show, which is different from that of the album. Matthew: Having been following the 90's for a long time, I think that although the US and the UK are a little different, the characteristic of bands like Marilyn Manson and Radiohead (who represented the 90's) was more of an inward energy, both live and on the album. That kind of music is definitely in our background. So people expect something like that at our shows. But we're hoping to bring more of an outward energy to our live shows. That's been our style since we started playing gigs.

—That's exactly what I wanted to say too. I know this is often compared, but in Radiohead's “OK Computer,” for example, Tom Yorke's expression is driven by a rather negative feeling of resentment toward the systemic material world. On the other hand, what I felt from you, who expresses with your whole body and serves the audience so well, was a simple "joy for music." I read in other interviews that you mentioned generational differences with Radiohead, etc. Do you feel that you are already living in a newer generation than they are? Matthew: Yes, I feel that there is a huge generational difference between us and them. In fact, I think 10 years can be said to be a cycle in which a new generation begins. For example, we are a generation that has grown up with a constant awareness of computers and technology. It was always right around us. I think there is a difference in the way we think about these things. Of course, more emotional feelings, such as anger, are hidden in the hearts of every generation, and expressing them in music has been done for a long time. However, I think there are differences in nuance and methodology between generations.

Picture: Dominic was then, and still is, Matthew's greatest confidant.

—I felt at the show that your generation shares an optimistic view of the current situation, rather than an angry one. Are you aware of this kind of generational view? Matthew: Well, I feel that we are at the beginning of a new era.

—Are there any bands that you feel are close to your generation? Matthew: Slipknot, and maybe Deftones …… I don't know much (about the other bands).

—How old were you when you started playing guitar? Was there a band that inspired you? Matthew: I think I picked up the first guitar when I was about 13 or 14. My older brother had been learning to play guitar for a long time, but he stopped and nobody used the guitar anymore. I think that's when I first got interested. I had been playing in a school band since I was 12 years old, but at the time I was playing piano with a jazz/blues feel to it. Around the same time, Dominic, the drummer, was in a punk band, and I liked them a lot, so I thought I might as well do something on guitar, so I started with some simple Sonic Youth covers. It wasn't until I was 17 or 18 that I started to take it seriously. I think I finally became aware of myself as a guitarist when I started playing the Spanish guitar because of my travels.

—Your guitar style seems to be influenced by a variety of genres, from rock to blues to classical, but who are the guitarists that are your direct roots?Are you a player from the 90s? Matthew: There was a guy in the classical world in the 1920s named Villa-Lobos (Note: Heitor Villa-Lobos: Brazilian composer, one of the most important composers of the 20th century, known for incorporating Brazilian music into classical techniques. Died in 1959), and I practiced a lot of his stuff. He really had a big influence on me. Then there is Jimi Hendrix, Tom Morello (Rage Against the Machine), and Kurt Cobain (Nirvana). I would say those four are the guitarists who have had a big influence on me.

—The wide range of influences is very impressive, with each phrase having its own hidden interest. Matthew: It just comes naturally to me. The music I've been listening to has been a source of influence for me, and I think it comes naturally to me when I play music. When I was 13 or 14, there was a time when I only listened to so-called “indie” music, but when I turned 17 or 18, I became more open to all kinds of music, partly due to the influence of my travels. And I absorbed more and more new music. Well, I've been interested in blues and classical music since I was a kid. Once I became more open musically, I started listening again to music that I had buried in my “indie days”…… and that's where I am now.

“If you start out with an instrument and try to write a song, you end up limiting yourself by your technique and the tone that instrument has.”

—Furthermore, the way you make full use of effects shows that you are enthusiastic about using your technical skills. Matthew: Yes, I do. I use a pitch shifter a lot on guitar. I have two outputs on my guitar. One is for synths, and the other is for a normal amp. I can use any combination of these to create different sounds. I use three completely different types of amplifiers. One is normal, one is stereo, and one is for guitar synths. I can switch between them at will. The guitars are two Peavey “Wolfgang” guitars (note: Eddie Van Halen model). The main and the sub have slightly different heads. The sub can be played above the nut. The other one is a Yamaha. The body is Telecaster shape.

Picture: Chris was slender and quite handsome at the time.

—I think Johnny Greenwood, who defines the Radiohead sound, is very innovative as a guitarist. He once said in an interview that he sees the guitar as a tool and only one part of the band's sound, and I feel your approach to guitar playing is similar to that. Matthew: When I think of a show on stage, I think it can be said that the guitar is only one tool, as he said. But in terms of performance, there are many things you can do with the guitar. You can jump with the guitar, you can get wild, etc. I don't like the piano because you can't do that.

—Is songwriting a completely individual process? Matthew: Yes, it is. First of all, I try to picture every single note in the whole music, piano, guitar, bass, drums, vocals …… I try to picture it all in my head. Only when I have a complete composition in my head, do I take the instruments and start making sounds. The reason why I do this is that if I try to create a song with instruments from the beginning, I end up creating limitations based on my own technique and the tone quality of the instruments. If you do that, you will never be able to go beyond those limits. But there are also times when I try to take something I composed in my head and make it sound with an instrument, and it is still impossible. I have a new song that I'm working on right now, and there are some effects that I haven't been able to get to yet in terms of actually recreating it on an instrument. Until I get it, it's not possible to reproduce it as a song.

—Was your vocal style, with its impressive falsetto, established from the beginning? Matthew: I don't think my vocal style has changed since the beginning. I used to sing in the shower. I don't know if it was the humidity or what, but for some reason I felt my voice came out better. When I first started rehearsing with the band, we didn't have microphones or amplifiers. So I had to sing louder so that the other members could hear me. I guess you could say that my style became more defined through that experience.

—You will be touring the U.S. with the Red Hot Chili Peppers and Foo Fighters (Note: Muse was recruited to open for Red Hot Chili Peppers on a 15-venue tour of the U.S. beginning in April 2000). Do you feel any sense of excitement? Matthew: I've played with the Foo Fighters for about three times in Paris, so I'm familiar with them. But this time, we are opening for 20,000-25,000 people. It will be interesting to see what kind of reaction we will get from that crowd, which will not necessarily be all of our fans. At the very least, we want to give it our all on stage.

—Any final message for our readers? Matthew: Well, check out Villa-Lobos (laughs). You'll hear some really amazing and exciting guitars. It's good to follow the new stuff, but I think it's also very important to look back and learn from the great history.

Translator's Notes: Okay, after translating the Memories of Muse 2000-2004 interview, translating this article, and extracting the latest texts for upcoming articles, I can't help but notice just how many times these Japanese journalists keep noting about how close Matt and Dom are.

Are they... were they already that obvious back then that it almost feels like these journalists found their friendship to be cute and adorable???? Am I reading this right????? Was Belldom already that obvious even in the year of 2000?????? Fellow Musers, please reply to tell me that I'm not seeing things??????

[themonsterunderthebed]

19, 20, 38 :)

19. what is your favorite album art from one of your favorite artists?

oooh i LIKE this one. shit okay this is not my real answer this is an honorable mention because i used transcendental youth by the mountain goats in my answer to an anon already but that album art is SOLID. tmg honestly often has good fuckin album art (see: dark in here)

okay here's the first thing that popped to mind after transcendental youth

from the album voyage by hms revenge. band has not existed for a Long Time and it turns out one of the guys from it is a shitty shitty dude but i remember being given that CD and being IN LOVE with the album art. honestly blown up on my screen here it looks less impressive than it is in my memory but i was SO into it. the color, the shading, the melancholy whimsy i somehow get from it. i could just stare at the cd case for like five minutes. also i gotta say even a decade later despite everything i still listen to this ep sometimes, it is good music

20. SHOW ME A PICTURE OF ONE OF YOUR FAVORITE ARTISTS. RIGHT NOW. I NEED TO SEE THEM.

OKAY i am SO torn on this question bc i wanna keep it Fresh and Exciting but i also am a simple girl who just really loves hozier and the mountain goats. u know i used my Fresh and Exciting credit in the last answer of this question so here's john darnielle for you i'm going to a tmg concert soon and i am beyond excited

why can this middle-aged nerd look directly into my soul

38. did one of your favorite bands/artists do a cover???? tell me about it!!!

YES okay we're veering into musicals territory bc musicals were my first love and i love them still. i listened to hadestown on a loop for like three weeks recently and eva noblezada is. my queen. my love. i am in love with this woman and she will never know i exist and i swear to god it is a terrible tragedy. anyway she sang "huddled masses" by shaina taub and i swear to god my heart broke and was healed simultaneously. i just put it on right now and had to stop because i couldn't type and listen to it at the same time because it demands full attention. god i'm obsessed. sidenote she also did a cover of take me to church that MURDERS me

okay i know the question is just for one cover but just REAL quick i gotta throw aaron tveit's cover of creep in here too because even in the shitty quality recording i am so obsessed with everything about it. his voice control. his acting the song (the eyes! he makes his eyes dead and resigned and tragic and then brings them to life? i can't deal). the way he DEVASTATES half a verse with his full vocal capacity and then brings it RIGHT back down to dead without any warning. it's just too goddamn good okay

thank you so much for the opportunity to ramble at length about random albums and artists, i honestly had SO much fun doing this!!!

the ask game, for the curious: https://themonsterunderthebed.tumblr.com/post/696915985297457152

[n7viper]

5, 8, 13 Shakarian & 22, 30, 37, 43 & 50 Mihren for OTP asks please 🥰

Random OTP Askerinos

This ended up being a longer post than intended, so I'm putting it under a cut :)

5. Who is louder in bed?

Lia! You'd think she would learn to be a little quieter after serving on ships for so long but... no. But that's fine because it gives him a chance to cover her mouth and keep her quiet :)

8. Who causes the tomfoolery and who has to try and stop the tomfoolery?

Oho! You're subverting expectations to ask about the other ship, I see. (Because you know the Mihren answer) For Lia and Garrus, I'd say they're equally as likely to cause tomfoolery that requires a third party to stop it. Lia is normally pretty straight-laced and doesn't tend to get into trouble, but they're both just horrible influences on each other.

13. Would they hate-fuck if they were mad at one another? If they had a falling out?

Honestly, I don't think so. I could see Lia being tempted to, but Garrus doesn't seem like the type to me.

Mihren (is that then canon name now? lol):

22. Who would be a lovey dovey drunk?

I really immediately thought of Cullen, but this might actually be Mihri too now that I think about it some more. So both of them? She wouldn't consistently be more lovey dovey, she's definitely usually just even hornier than normal.

But when they're drunk and alone? More than a few times, she thinks about everything that has happened to them and has to take a moment before she gets teary-eyed about it all. She's settling down. It feels... comforting. They make such an odd couple, but it doesn't matter. They're in love. (Gross 🤮)

30. Who is older, and who makes the ‘older’ jokes?

Cullen is older by about 5 years but acts like it's by 20. Mihri only really teases him about it when he's being especially grumpy and knows that it'll annoy him.

37. When the person who doesn’t normally have nightmares, has a nightmare, how does the other comfort them?

In general, Mihri doesn’t really start getting severe nightmares until after In Hushed Whispers. Even before then, she and Cullen don’t get together until early Skyhold and don’t sleep together until after Halamshiral (done before Adamant).

This isn’t an OTP answer, but let’s take a quick intermission. This reminded me of a hc I’ve had for a while, so I’ll let you have it. Mihri and Cassandra usually share a tent while traveling. There are many times where Cass has to comfort Mihri after a nightmare. Cass is kinda awkward about it, but she does try. It takes several occurrences before Mihri finally breaks down and admits that she’s haunted by what happened in that dark future and watching Cass and the others die to save her. Ok, back to our regularly scheduled OTP hours now.

Cullen usually pulls Mihri closer to his chest, and she usually turns to face him. Even if she doesn’t, he massages her scalp and runs his fingers through her hair the way she likes it. If it’s a nightmare that causes the anchor to flare, he holds her hand. He always asks if she’d like to talk about it, but she usually declines. It’s pretty much always a lot of bear hugging, forehead kisses, and fingers through her hair.

43. How do they say ‘I love you’ without actually saying it? Ex “Have you drank any water today?”

Honestly, Cullen just strikes me as a words of affirmation kind of guy. He's the type to drive you bonkers because he's just constantly saying it, to the point where it feels like it's lost its meaning. So not much to say on that front.

For Mihri, she shows her love through gifts; little trinkets that she picks up on her travels that she says reminds her of him. She shows love with meals sent to his office, through pulling him away from his desk late in the night so that he can finally sleep. Most of all, she says it by being honest with him and not putting up a front like she does with everyone else.

50. Who is more likely to cling to the other while they sleep?

I already answered this here, but I'm obsessed with the fact that three separate people asked me this. I am so soft 🥺

[watchmegetobsessed]

A STEP FURTHER

Sequel to SIT ON ME

a/n: as per requested, here is a part two to my recent sebastian fic! hope you guys will like it as much as you did the previous part! also, there’s not gonna be any more parts!

pairing: Sebastian Stan X Assistant!Reader

word count: 3k

masterlist

You were expecting it. You knew how the internet and most importantly, Sebastian’s fans work. Just hours after the event, dozens of videos got out of Sebastian saying that he wanted you to sit on him if he was a chair, an answer to a highly inappropriate question that shouldn’t have been asked in the first place, but your crazy ass boss thought otherwise.

It washed over the whole fandom and soon enough everyone was talking about the two of you. And because part of your job is to be up to date about Sebastian’s media presence, you had to face not just him but yourself all over the internet. Fans started to dig up every tiny interaction between the two of you caught on camera, they posted photo montages of you and him just out and about or going from one meeting to the other. They started to look for signs that you’re dating and half of the fandom became convinced that you’re in a secret relationship. Speculations and rumors spread faster than wildfire and there was no way to stop it, you just had to live with it.

In the meanwhile, Sebastian didn’t seem to be bothered by it at all. It’s like he didn’t even acknowledge the fuss about the two of you, like it was all so natural and normal to be seen as a couple by the whole world when you were just his employee.

“What? It’s not like I ever addressed anything about my dating life,” he shrugged one day when you asked him why he is not caring about the situation at all. And that was pretty much it.

The fans wouldn’t have been that big of a deal to you either. They are strangers, they always get fixated on something and soon enough you knew something new would come up and make them forget about your existence. The people close to you on the other hand are a whole different side of the story.

Following the event, Mackie wouldn’t shut up about Sebastian being hopelessly in love with you and he would nag you to go on a date already, getting on your nerves even more than he usually does with his nosiness. You love the man, you really do, but he needs to learn how to stay in his own lane.

And then, slowly but surely every friend you and Sebastian shared caught up on the story and they started asking you about it again and again and you had to tell them the same thing every damn time: you and Sebastian were working together, no romance was involved between the two of you.

No one believed you.

Now it’s been weeks and people still go crazy whenever you and Seb step out together, which happens quite often since he’s been having a busy month work-wise. Paparazzi are always following you around, catching every moment you spend out in the public, putting you on the tabloids nonstop. It’s become your usual.

Another day, another event. The day starts early for you before you pick Sebastian up and heading out to have breakfast before you are supposed to show up at the concert hall that’s going to be the venue of today’s interview and Q&A.

“Mackie has been blowing my phone up all morning,” you grumble upon seeing another text from said man before you just turn your phone screen facing down so you can finish your toast in peace.

“What does he want?” Sebastian hums.

“He is asking if I’m coming today, as if I missed any events these past weeks,” you huff shaking your head.

“He has been acting weird,” Sebastian grimaces, reaching for his coffee. “Weirder than his usual,” he adds.

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t know, he just asks weird stuff,” he shrugs, not paying much attention to it and you decide to do the same.

Not much later, you’re finished with your food, only sipping on your coffee when you spot a group of girls near your table, their phones pointing in your direction and you have to stop yourself from growling, turning a little so you’re not facing the phones entirely. Sebastian notices your discomfort and looking around he spots the girls as well before turning back to face you. He doesn’t say a word, just gets up from his seat and strides over to the group as you watch him with wide eyes.

“Hi girls, can I ask you to delete the pictures you took, please? I’m happy to take selfies with you, just please don’t post the ones of us eating, okay?” you hear him ask them, leaving you completely speechless. Luckily, the girls are happy to obligate and he quickly poses for pictures with all of them before joining you back at the table.

“Why did you do that?” you ask him, eyebrows raised in surprise.

“You clearly didn’t like that they took pictures of us and I know you don’t like how we are being talked about recently, so I thought I would… try to help about that a little,” he shrugs, finishing the rest of his coffee.

“I just don’t like that everyone is in our business,” you sigh, folding your arms on your chest as you lean back in your seat.

“So we have business? Together?” he asks, raising his eyebrows at you over the table.

“That’s not how I… We talked about this, Seb,” you breathe out, your shoulders falling forward.

“Ages ago. Things might have changed since then,” he suggests shrugging his shoulder.

“I still work for you,” you point it out. “Things are better this way.”

“Sure, whatever you say,” he mumbles, clearly hurt by your words, but there’s not much you can do against it. “Let’s go, I don’t want Mackie to be up in my ass for being late,” he sighs, leaving the money on the table that most likely covers both your meals and a fat tip as well.

The car ride to the venue is silent, but not in the comfortable way it sometimes is. It’s awkward and you keep glancing at him, trying to find the right words but you’re not even sure what you want to tell him.

I’m sorry we work together so we can’t date? I’m sorry I keep rejecting you? I’m sorry I’m afraid if we go any further than this it will ruin our friendship?

You have absolutely no idea how to deal with it, so you just stay silent, right until you arrive to the venue. Before Seb could get out of the car you speak up.

“Are you mad at me now?” you ask, biting into your bottom lip.

“I’m not mad, Y/N. I don’t think I could ever be mad at you,” he truthfully answers, his eyes only falling on you after he has spoken.

“But there’s something, I can tell.”

“I’m just a little frustrated, is all.”

“Because of what people say about us?” you make a guess.

“Because there’s this unsaid situation between us and you just don’t let me address it. You don’t want to talk about it and whenever it’s brought up, you just shut the door right at my face,” he explains and with each spoken word, you feel worse and worse.

“It’s a complicated situation,” you breathe out.

“It’s not,” he retorts. “Do you not like me?”

“Of course I like you!”

“Okay, I like you too so why can’t we be more than just friends?”

“Because we are not just friends. I’m working for you, it’s a different situation!”

“Y/N, this is not an office job, there’s no HR, no policies, we can do whatever we want!” he chuckles bitterly as you keep your eyes down. You don’t have the heart to tell him that it’s not just because of work, but because you’re terribly afraid of being a disappointment to him if you eventually give it a try.

Your silence doesn’t amuses Sebastian and you don’t have time to rave any longer about the situation.

“Forget it, sorry I brought it up again. Let’s just… get over with this thing,” he mumbles before getting out of the car.

You move around each other like strangers, he is clearly avoiding to even look at you and you’re feeling guilty even though you don’t think you have a reason to. Still, you hate seeing him this upset, especially when it’s because of you.

The change in your act is not that evident, but Mackie immediately notices it. When you walk past him he grabs your wrist and pulls you aside.

“What the hell is going on?” he asks with wide, curious eyes.

“What are you talking about?” you retort, acting innocent, but there’s a reason why you didn’t become an actress, you suck at even lying.

“You and Seb are acting like a divorcing couple!” he whisper-yells. Pursing your lip you start chewing on the inside of your cheek as you nervously tap your foot on the ground.

“We just… had a little disagreement.”

“About what?”

“Us,” you breathe out, your head hanging low.

“Wait, so there is an ‘us’?” he asks, air-quoting the last word and you roll your eyes at him.

“No, that’s what the disagreement was about. He wants and I…”

“Don’t tell me you don’t, because I know that’s bullshit. Y/N, I see the way you look at that man, why are you making it so hard for the both of you?”

“It’s just—It might ruin everything and I can’t afford that right now.”

“Ruin everything?!” he grimaces. “What would it ruin?”

“I said fucking everything!” you snap at him, losing your patience that you’re the only one who has issues with the situation. “Our friendship, my job, everything! And I don’t want that. I can’t have that.”

“Dating someone wouldn’t ruin the friendship, Y/N. This is not middle school. Friendship is part of being with someone and you two have that. Just let it take a step further.”

“Thanks for the advice, but I’m good. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have stuff to do,” you mumble under your breath before walking away from him before he could get another word out.

It’s not that you don’t want it, because you do, you really do. You’ve been in love with the man for a long time and knowing that he has feelings for you too makes you have a heart attack every time you think about it. But you are so afraid it might go south and then you’ll end up losing your job and one of your closest friends as well. Because above everything Sebastian grew to be your biggest confidant, the person you turn to whenever you are feeling down, when you need a shoulder to cry on, you can’t imagine your life without him anymore and it’s not just about the times when you’re working. Traveling around the world with him is a blessing, you love the little moments you share, the late night movie nights in hotel rooms or when you’re exploring a new city together. You love messing around in his trailer when he is filming, making silly videos on sets or playing around with props you shouldn’t even touch. You can share anything with him and vice versa. If you lose him for whatever reason, you would be left with a hole in your life that would just simply never disappear, because no one will ever be like him and that’s a fact. You’re terribly afraid to risk everything for something that might not even work. You might be a horrible item, romance can bring out things of people that haven’t shown before.

The guys finally get on stage and you watch them from the side as always. It goes as usual, they are joking around, making a show, entertaining the audience as they go over the interview before the question round starts. You don’t realize it at first, but you’re holding your breath as one question follows the other, you’re scared someone might ask Sebastian about you and the shit show would blow up again. You can only hope his answer wouldn’t be as stupid as it was before. But luckily, the audience keeps you out of their business, only focusing on what’s important, so you start to feel relieved. Right until the whole event is nearing its end and Mackie decides to take matters into his own hands.

“I think we have time for one more question,” the interviewer announces and dozens of hands shoot up into the air, desperate to get the chance to ask the men on stage, but before anyone could get the mic, Mackie speaks up.

“Actually, can I have that last question?” he chimes in holding up a finger.

“Uh, sure, go ahead!” the interviewer responds, clearly a little puzzled about his request. Mackie then turns to face Sebastian who is sitting on his right and just by the look on his face you already know what it’s gonna be about.

“Sebastian, my question is: What do you love most about Y/N?”

He can barely finish the question, the crowd erupts in cheers and whistles that he had the guts to ask him about you, but you’re feeling different about his ballsy move.

“Mackie! No!” you shout from the side, both men looking your way. Mackie tries to look innocent while Sebastian’s face is unreadable, his piercing blue eyes are just staring right back at you and you wish you could read his mind.

“Alright, I take back the ques—“ Mackie starts in a mumble, but Sebastian is quick to cut him off.

“Nah, I’ll answer,” he simply says, another round of cheering filling the place and you accept defeat.

Squatting down you hug your knees to your chest as you listen to the inevitable answer Sebastian is about to give.

“What I love the most about Y/N is that she is genuinely the best person anyone could ever have in their life. She is so selfless and caring towards others, always got her friends’ back no matter what. I love that we aren’t just simply working together but we are friends too, really good ones and that I know nothing can change that.”

Listening to his soothing voice through the speakers, you feel your throat closing up, especially at the last part he just said. Chewing on your bottom lip you tilt your head to the side as he continues.

“Literally anything can happen, we could have the worst fight ever and I still know that we would make up no matter what. She is… just an amazing and exceptional person.”

There’s a heavy moment of silence and you’re staring at him from afar with teary eyes as his eyes are glued to his hands in his lap.

“Damn,” Mackie breathes out, making everyone laugh and Sebastian’s gaze rises to him with a small smile on his lips.

There’s no time to dwell on his answer, the event needs to end. The interviewer thanks for their time and as the crowd cheers to them they head off the stage, waving at them until they disappear.

You’ve moved to the corner of the room, not wanting to be in the way, but you’re still not over the speech Sebastian just gave about you. As he appears from the stage his eyes are clearly scanning the room, searching for someone and when he finally spots you, his face hardens as he heads in your way. You’re standing with your hand covering your lips, eyes still slightly watered and seeing you like this he knots his eyebrows together in worry.

“Hey, what’s—“

“Did you mean that?” you breathe out, your voice trembling. “Did you mean it that nothing can change that?”

“Of course,” he nods, finally seeing what this is all about. “We’ve always found our way back to each other, haven’t we?”

“But dating is so much different than what we do now!” you breathe out, still not entirely sure it’s what you should do.

“Why would it be?” he chuckles softly. “We are already spending the majority of our time together, we know each other better than some couples, it wouldn’t be that big of a change, Y/N. And just like how it could ruin things between us, not taking the step could do the same, because sooner or later it’s gonna be unbearable, one of us might end up dating someone else and that wouldn’t do good to us for sure. I would rather accept the end of it knowing that we gave us a try than not even trying.”

“What if I turn out to be a completely shitty girlfriend?” you ask in a whisper as he steps closer, his hands finding your wrists as he pulls them away from your face, holding them gently. “W-What if I—“

“Shut up,” he cuts you off chuckling. “There’s no chance you are shitty at anything,” he replies teasingly, making you smile the slightest. “But even if you do end up being one, we’ll work on it together.”

His hands guide your hands around his waist, you hold onto his shirt as he cups your face in his hands, his face inching closer until his nose is brushing against yours.

“I really hope you’re right,” you breathe out, giving up to resist it any longer. There’s no use.

“Was I ever not right?” he asks smugly.

“Oh remember when—“

You don’t get to finish, because he silences you the best way possible, his lips smashing onto yours. It’s been long due and it doesn’t disappoint, his lips feel soft and perfect against yours, you can’t help but let out a pleased hum as your hands slide up his toned chest and your arms curl around his neck while his hands find your waist strong arms circling your waist as he pulls you tight against him.

“That’s what I’m talking about!” Mackie’s voice breaks the moment and as you both pull back and turn in his direction, you see him pump his fist into the air with a victorious smirk on his face.

“Mind your own business, Mackie!” Seb calls out to him as you bury your face in the crook of his neck giggling like a little school girl.

“It’s my business! I made it happen!” Mackie retorts and a laugh rumbles through Seb’s chest.

“I’ll send you a thank you gift card later!” he shouts back before turning to you again, kissing the side of your head.

Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed it!

[tchallasbabymama]

Troubled Waters Chapter Four

Hey, yall! Here’s the next chapter of Nia and T’Challa’s journey. I’m super proud of this one (I’m proud of all my work, but still.) With the help of @wordsfromthelivingghost being a bomb ass beta reader, I think this is some of my best work yet. And I’m only gonna get better!

Check out my masterlist to read my other stories (and catch up on this one if you’re new here.) I love when y’all talk to me and share my work so others can discover it, so hit those comment and reblog buttons. Also, be sure to let me know if you want to be tagged in anything. Enjoy!😘

Word count: 8,894

CW: A little blood and cutting but NOT for self-harm reasons. If it bothers you, skip the second half of the scene at Kokou’s temple.

Nia pressed her cheek to the window, careful not to smudge the thin line of white clay painted down the center of her face. Her eyes were wide, and her mouth hung slightly open as she watched Wakanda zoom by from hundreds of feet in the air. She had always loved seeing what the world looked like from above, but it had been years since she last got to enjoy the view. When she was young, Amare would carry her in his arms as he flew high above the ground to give her a taste of what she so desperately wanted: to feel the wind beneath her nonexistent wings.

T’Challa half-watched Nia from his seat off to the side of the cabin as he flipped through news articles on his kimoyo beads. As they flew over a statue of Bast in her full panther form, he could tell the bright blue light radiating from the tunnel beneath the goddess intrigued her. Her head tilted slightly to the left, and he turned off his beads right as she turned around with a question on her lips.

“That’s Mt. Bashenga,” T’Challa answered prematurely as he stood and made his way over to the window, looking out at his kingdom as Okoye steered the Royal Talon over the Mining province.

“Why’s it glowing?”

“Vibranium.”

“Ohhh.” Nia thought back to the human history books she read as a child that told their story of the founding of Wakanda. Obviously, they had censored the part about aziza, but she still found their revisionist history fascinating. “That’s where the meteorite landed, right?”

T’Challa nodded, impressed by her knowledge.

“Ubaba always said vibranium was ‘the humans’ magic’,” she whispered just loud enough for him to hear.

T’Challa was mildly shocked. He had never considered it that way, but he supposed it was sort of otherworldly what they were able to do with the substance. In comparison to other humans, anyway.

Okoye kept her focus on flying the ship, but T’Challa couldn’t help but spot the slight glow that emanated from Nia’s skin while she ogled the scenery. The king reflected on the description of aziza he had read the day before and remembered that it mentioned their luminous skin. He had noticed that even when she was standoffish towards him, she seemed to radiate light from the inside out, but seeing her literally light up in excitement brought him joy.

When Birnin Zana came into view, Nia’s eyes curiously trailed along the tributaries that moseyed through the metropolis and she was reminded of the magic realm’s big city, Birnin Umlingo. She smiled fondly at how similar they were despite the fact that Birnin Zana was so much bigger. It was nestled between rolling hills and sharp cliffsides, and she was pleasantly surprised to see all the lush greenery dispersed throughout the city. There were small parks everywhere and most of the roofs were topped with well-kept gardens. The skyscrapers and apartment buildings stretched to the sky like the trees that lined the streets, but Nia was almost blinded when the sun bounced off of an impressive structure in the middle of the city. Two almost conical, shining towers spiraled up from an ancient foundation that swirled around the base like the flowing tributary that surrounded most of it like a moat. The towers were connected by a long bridge about a third of the way up and despite her amazement, Nia couldn’t help but wonder why they had to build two towers instead of just one.

“Bast, is that the palace?” She pointed up ahead.

T’Challa smirked proudly. He never tired of seeing the dual vibranium spires that towered over even the tallest skyscrapers throughout the city.

“It is,” he said proudly.

“It’s so big,” she whispered, then turned to look at him. “Does it ever feel empty?”

He furrowed his brows, making a little crease appear between them that Nia found endearing. “How do you mean?”

“Well, it’s just you and your family that live there, right?”

The king nodded.

“Then why do you need so much space? And why two instead of just one? It seems so unnecessary.”

Okoye bit the inside of her lip to keep from snickering at Nia’s sincere inquiries. She wasn’t too keen on Nia and wasn’t quite sure why she was there, but she had worked for T’Challa long enough to know he didn’t like people questioning him.

“I don’t- it’s not just...look.” He pointed back out the window to distract her, and Nia whipped her head around to watch their descent to the landing pad in front of the palace.

The three of them exited the Talon, but instead of entering T’Challa’s gratuitously large home, they made a left and walked through the palace gates and into the bustling streets of Birnin Zana. Nia had been to the big city before when she was young, but it seemed like it had exploded over the last couple of decades. It had always been a busy hub of commerce for the Merchant tribe, but business owners from the other tribes had moved there in droves over the past few years to get a piece of the pie.

The three of them passed through the financial district with ease. Nia kept her neck craned to look up at the tall banks, corporate offices, and massive parking garages filled with hovercars. In the distance, she saw an arena and she wondered what took place there. Did they have many concerts? Sporting events? She made a mental note to ask about that later and continued to take in her surroundings. The maglev trains zooming by high above the street caught her attention, and her eyes widened. She had never been on a train before.

They eventually made it to Three Step Town, the cultural hub of the city and Nia looked on in awe at the various businesses that surrounded them. Once again, she was reminded of Birnin Umlingo as she looked around at the diversity that surrounded her. Most of the older folks were dressed in the traditional clothing of their tribes, but the younger Wakandans seemed to prefer a more modern look. They really were a spectacle. Some people had brightly colored manes and shining vibranium tattoos that decorated their skin, and the sight had Nia’s wheels turning. She had never really experimented much with her look, but they were giving her the inspiration to try something different.

Just as Nia began to ponder what body modification would look good on her, she felt someone grab her and yank her to the side of the street. She began to protest right as a streetcar full of people rolled by. Nia turned to thank her savior, smiling sheepishly when she realized it was Okoye.

“Watch where you’re going,” the general warned harshly and let go of Nia’s arm. The two of them joined T’Challa as he spoke to a snaggletoothed young boy who had proudly shown him the Black Panther action figure that he carried everywhere. The boy’s parents thanked the king for being so polite before they said goodbye and went on their way. Nia’s heart warmed a little at seeing T’Challa be so kind to them. He could have easily ignored the family or had Okoye intervene, but he seemed to enjoy interacting with his people. As the three of them continued on their journey, a small smile pushed up the corners of Nia’s mouth knowing he wasn’t as arrogant as she assumed.

Nia was almost overwhelmed by the many shops they passed by. She could buy anything she wanted: jewelry, instruments, furniture, hats. It seemed like they had everything. However, she came to a halt when they walked by a store with colorful, hand-woven baskets hanging out front. The old lady that ran the shop noticed Nia staring and came forward to help her pick one out, but paused when she saw that the king was standing beside her. She saluted him fondly and turned to face his companion.

“Excuse me, how much for this one?” Nia asked the shopkeep as her fingers ran over the intricate patterns along the sides of a mid-sized sweetgrass basket.

“For you it is free,” the older woman said through a bright smile that crinkled her eyes. Before Nia could protest, she had already taken it down and pushed it into her arms.

“Are you sure? I can pay-”

“Just tell people where you got it,” the woman winked before going back inside to help a customer that was ready to check out.

Nia couldn’t believe how kind the woman had been to give her the gift, but her amazement was cut short by T’Challa leaning in close and ruining the moment.

“Just one of the perks of traveling with the king,” he teased.

Nia rolled her eyes and stepped away from him, continuing down the street with her basket swinging in the crook of her elbow. She had been so caught up in her surroundings that she hadn’t noticed the stares from passersby and began to get a little self-conscious. A few people even snapped a picture or two of the king and his elusive friend, some of which would surely end up on gossip blogs by the end of the day.

Her nervousness was short-lived and quickly got replaced with longing when they turned the corner and walked right through the food district. Not only did the colorful produce stands call to her, but the smells of curries and grilled meats continuously pulled her attention from left to right. However, when a deliciously sweet aroma tickled her nose, she stopped dead in the middle of the road.

“Where is that coming from?” Nia sniffed the air and veered off the main street as she followed the scent to a man that was serving up deep-fried sweet plantain on a stick, drizzled with chocolate. T’Challa kept a close eye on Nia but stayed back and let her wander up to the dessert cart alone. He watched as she engaged the man in conversation and saw her come alive when she tasted the sample he provided her. A small smile crept up the king’s face, but his amusement was cut short by Okoye clearing her throat next to him.

“My king,” she started, and he turned slightly in her direction, nodding for her to continue as he kept his eyes on Nia. “If I may...what exactly is her purpose here with us?”

“Nia is a devotee of Bast, and I believe she may be helpful in our attempts to understand what has happened to her,” he stated matter-of-factly.

Okoye sensed his unwillingness to go further into detail and grew quiet again as Nia damn near skipped back over to them with her hands full.

“Here you go,” Nia sang as she held out two of the desserts for them to take. “He saw I was with the king and gave me three for free!”

Neither of them was hungry, but they just couldn’t say no to her big, childlike eyes.

“Thank you,” T’Challa waved to the man behind the counter and took a bite of the dessert, eyes rolling back in ecstasy. “Mmm”

“See? It’s amazing,” Nia said with a mouth full of plantain. Even Okoye had to agree.

The three of them ate their midmorning snack as they strolled through the streets, eventually making their way to a much quieter section on the outskirts of the busy city center. Just as Nia finished licking the last bit of chocolate from the wooden stick, she came face to face with an ancient-looking stone building that didn’t quite fit the vibe of the modern neighborhood. Her eyes zeroed in on the large statue at the entrance. It was a being with the body of a man and the head of an ibis holding a scroll in one hand and a staff in the other.

“Welcome to the flagship branch of the Wakandan Public Library,” T’Challa said proudly.

While Nia loved a good library, she was a little confused about why they were there. “I thought we were going to a temple.”

T’Challa wiggled his eyebrows as he stepped past her, climbing the steps with Okoye in tow, “This is the temple.”

Nia’s curiosity got the best of her, and she followed behind the king and his general. They threw their sticks away in the trash cans outside of the doors that swished open as they approached. Nia hadn’t expected the building to have such modern technologies based on the look of it, but she surmised the library would have a few more surprises up its sleeves.

“Kumkani wam!”

All three of their heads turned towards the woman behind the large marble desk as she scrambled to salute the king, dropping the small stack of books from her arms. T’Challa quickly rounded the desk and smiled at her as he crouched down to pick the books off of the floor. Before she could stoop down to help him, he had already placed them neatly on the desk.

“T-thank you, my king,” the woman stammered and pushed her glasses up the bridge of her nose. Never in her life had she imagined she would be so close to royalty, much less her biggest crush. “What can I do for you?”

“Well…” he started, trailing off to get her name.

“Fatima, sir.”

“What a beautiful name,” he flirted innocently and leaned on the cool marble as Nia and Okoye both fought their eyes from rolling to the ceiling. Okoye was used to his flirtatious manner making women swoon at his feet, but it still irked her to no end. They had a job to do, and he was wasting time. Nia, however, felt the tiniest tinge of something deep in her gut as she watched him make eyes at the beautiful librarian. She waved it off as annoyance since she still wasn’t the king’s biggest fan. Adding “womanizer” to her list of reasons not to like him certainly tipped the scales further away from him, balancing out his actions from earlier.

Fatima giggled as she struggled to make eye contact with the handsome king, “Thank you, your highness.”

“Please, call me T’Challa,” he implored, resting his hand over his heart and flashing his irresistible smile.

“Oh, no. I couldn’t do that-”

“I insist.”

Okoye cleared her throat, and T’Challa’s eyes reluctantly shot in her direction.

“Anyway, Fatima, we were wondering if Abdu is in today,” T’Challa continued as he straightened up and stood to his full height, making Fatima swoon even more in his presence. Her eyes wandered down to his chest, but she snapped out of it and attempted to look him in the eye. Her knees nearly buckled under the intensity of his gaze, but she stood firm.

“Y-yes, he is, my ki-”

T’Challa reprimanded her with a simple raise of his right eyebrow, and she quickly corrected herself.

“I mean, T’Challa,” Fatima giggled once more. “I’ll go get him for you.”

“Thank you, Fatima,” he smiled down at her, watching as she walked away with a pep in her step and her hips twitching just a little more than usual.

Fatima disappeared behind a green velvet curtain, and when they were sure she was out of earshot, Nia and Okoye both turned to look at the king. They wore matching expressions of disapproval, but, for some reason, it stung to see on Nia’s face.

“What’s wrong?” he asked her.

“Must you flirt with every woman you see?” Okoye butted in, clearly exasperated by his antics.

Nia’s eyebrows jumped as a teasing smirk settled on her lips. “Oh, so this is a common occurrence?”

“You wouldn’t believe how many-”

“General,” T’Challa warned, and Okoye stopped talking.

Nia tried to contain a laugh, but it came out more like a snort than she intended. Just as T’Challa opened his mouth to make fun of her, Fatima appeared from behind the curtain with a heavy-set man with tortoiseshell glasses just a few steps behind her.

“T’Challa, my boy! Oh, excuse me, my king.” The man bowed sarcastically and crossed his arms in a salute. T’Challa waved him off with a smile and a click of his tongue, and the two men embraced each other. Nia had noticed T’Challa wasn’t really one to demand formalities, but the man’s familiarity with the king intrigued her.

“Abdu, how have you been?”

It had been several months since T’Challa last visited the library. Abdu had worked and worshipped there for decades and had watched the king grow into the man before him. Some of T’Challa’s fondest childhood memories consisted of him spending hours curled up in the stacks, flipping through whatever book caught his eye that day. Abdu would bring him story after story for him to get lost in, and the older man never tired of T’Challa’s curiosity. No matter how many questions he threw at him.

“Getting old, but I can’t complain,” the much shorter man said as they pulled apart. He looked around T’Challa and noticed his company. “Okoye, a pleasure to see you as always.”

“You as well, Abdu,” she smiled.

“And who might this lovely creature be?” Abdu asked as his gaze fell on Nia. She bristled at his choice of words but said nothing. Even as a child, she had always been sensitive to the word “creature” and felt it offensive to refer to non-humans as such. She knew he had no idea about her bloodline, though, and since he meant no harm she simply ignored the terminology.

“Nia Olu, sir,” she introduced herself with a nod of her head, and he returned the gesture.

“Ah, a beautiful name for a beautiful woman. And what is it that you do, Nia Olu?”

“I am a healer and a devotee of Bast.”

“A devotee, huh? Well, I think we will get along nicely,” he smiled warmly at her before turning back to the king. “What can I do for you all today?”

“Well, actually, Nia is a big part of why we’re here,” T’Challa began. “It seems Bast has gone missing. Neither of us has been able to contact her as of late.”

“Are you a priestess?” Abdu asked Nia, confused as to why a simple devotee would be partnered with the king for such a task. Okoye felt vindicated by his questioning but stayed quiet.

“No, sir.”

“Then, I must say, I’m a little confused on how you would have a direct connection to her-”

“She is highly favored in the goddess’ eyes,” T’Challa cut in, hoping his vague answer would be enough to dissuade Abdu from asking too many questions. He knew it wouldn’t be easy to hide anything from a priest of the god of wisdom, but he also knew he couldn’t give away Nia’s full identity. “We were wondering if maybe you could see if Thoth knows where she is or why she isn’t answering.”

Abdu could tell there was something else to the story, but decided not to press the subject. He figured that if the king felt it was important enough to keep from him, then he had to trust his judgment.

The priest nodded and motioned for the three of them to follow him. T’Challa winked at Fatima before falling in step with Abdu, and once again, Nia’s and Okoye’s eyes struggled to remain straight ahead as they followed behind the two men.

Nia couldn’t help but stare in awe at the rows and rows of floor-to-ceiling bookshelves they passed as they walked through the centuries-old library. She imagined herself spending hours combing through the texts and soaking up whatever knowledge held, just like she did with the many books Amare provided her with as a child. Her daydreaming was cut short when they passed through the children’s section, and she noticed a display of picture books, one of which caught her eye. There, on the cover, was a colorful illustration of an aziza sitting in a tree, watching over a group of children as they played in the grass below him.

Before she knew it, Nia had grabbed the book and started flipping through the pages, scanning the words and pictures for any sign of historical truth. She found none, but her hope didn’t die out. Maybe, just maybe the library held onto more of the past than the Wakandans realized. She knew magical creatures were relegated to folktales, but she began to wonder how many of those tales were historically accurate, if any. She hadn’t noticed that the others had stopped and were watching her tear through the book like it held the secrets to the universe.

“You like that one? It’s a fairly new release. Very popular with the children,” Abdu said, but his words fell on deaf ears.

“Nia?” the king called out to her.

She jumped and dropped the book, but T’Challa caught it before it could hit the ground.

“Yeah? Sorry, I just…” Nia trailed off, unsure of what to say. All three of them looked at her curiously, but when T’Challa’s eyes graced the cover, he understood why she had been called to it. “Are there many stories like this?”

“Of aziza?” Abdu asked for clarification, and Nia nodded. “Sure! Kids love fantastical creatures. You know, some of them even swear up and down that they’ve seen them in real life.”

T’Challa and Nia shared a quick glance as he set the book back where she found it. Of course, Okoye caught their quick exchange.

“Such wild imaginations,” Nia murmured, and the group continued on their trek. She was quiet for a moment as she tried to figure out the best way to word her next question when she decided to just go for it. “Abdu, is there any mention of, um, species that are no longer around in any of these books?”

T’Challa looked at her knowingly out of the corner of his eye. He knew what she was getting at, and he was curious about Abdu’s answer. After seeing Nia’s book the day before, his mind had begun to wonder about ancient Wakandan texts. She had told him that they coexisted long ago, so there had to be some evidence hidden deep in the bowels of the library. If there was proof anywhere, it was here.

“Of course!” Abdu said excitedly and pointed to the far left wall. “Species naturally go extinct all the time. If that interests you, check out our history section over there.”

Nia and T’Challa both cataloged that information for later and started mentally planning their next visits.

The deeper they traveled into the vast library, a tingling grew in Nia’s stomach. There was great power there, and she could feel it. The tingling intensified as they arrived at a large door with an image of Thoth that had been hand-carved by artisans long ago.

“We’ll take it from here, Okoye,” T’Challa ordered, and the general nodded before standing at attention with her back to the door. Then, his eyes fell to Nia. “Ready?”

“I think…”

“That’ll serve you well here,” Abdu joked as he pushed open the heavy door.

Nia wasn’t quite sure what she was expecting to see, but a winding staircase certainly wasn’t on her list of possibilities. The three of them quietly descended the steps, and all that could be heard was the sounds of their sandals connecting with the stone as they went. After what seemed like forever, Abdu came to a halt at another large door and turned to face his visitors.

“You must enter with pure intentions and a cool head, or he will not answer. Understood?”

Nia and T’Challa answered in unison.

“Yes, sir.”

“Of course.”

“Good,” Abdu smiled at them and reached for the handle, pushing it open and revealing what looked to be a private study. The lamps along the stone walls lit up when they entered, and Nia was once again amazed at how the ancient seemed to flawlessly combine with the modern. As she looked around, she noticed that instead of books, there were scrolls stacked neatly on the shelves. A high-backed chair sat behind a large wooden desk with several scrolls strewn about it, and in the center of the room, there was a stone lectern that looked like it had been there since the dawn of time. Colorful pillows surrounded it on the floor, and next to it stood another statue of Thoth. This time, his hands were out and he was holding a staff that resembled the one from the statue out front, except this one was made of gold. This one was real, and it made the hairs on the back of Nia’s neck stand at attention.

Abdu made his way over to the closest shelf and grabbed a scroll from the top of the stack. He then crossed the room again and stood behind the lectern. When he unrolled the scroll, Nia and T’Challa were both surprised to find that it was blank. They watched with bated breath as he produced a shiny gold pen from his pocket and removed the staff from the statue’s arms.

“You two, come sit down,” Abdu said to them, pointing to the floor pillows.

They obeyed his order, and each grabbed a pillow. T’Challa sat cross-legged while Nia carefully placed her new basket on the floor and tucked her feet under her. They waited patiently while Abdu mumbled a prayer under his breath. Despite T’Challa’s enhanced hearing, he could barely make out what Abdu was saying, but the more he spoke, the colder the room became. The priest continued his prayers for several minutes until the staff began to glow with blinding orange light and his mouth snapped shut tight. A soft breeze blew through the room as his eyes glowed the same color as the staff, and the pen in his left hand started to frantically scribble words onto the formerly blank scroll. His hand moved faster than humanly possible, and Nia recognized what was happening as a possession. She bowed her head in the god’s presence and nudged T’Challa in his side to do the same. He followed suit, but neither of their eyes left Abdu, too curious to look away.

It seemed like forever had come and gone as the two sat in silence, watching in awe while Abdu filled the scroll as he channeled Thoth. The only sound that filled the air was the fast-moving pen on the papyrus and a faint humming from the staff, but suddenly, it all stopped. The staff’s light waned, and Abdu blinked his eyes back to their normal shade of hazel. He carefully placed the staff back in the statue’s hands and read over the words he had been given from his god. A frown appeared on the priest’s face, and Nia made eye contact with T’Challa. Neither one felt good news was coming.

“Well,” Abdu broke the tense silence, “to sum it up, it seems Thoth hasn’t seen or heard from Bast in several weeks. He says that’s very unlike her, as I’m sure you know, T’Challa.”

The king nodded. “Is there anything else? Did he say where she might be?”

“Oh, he said plenty, but not about your question. He can be quite long-winded at times,” Abdu murmured as he scanned the text once more to make sure he wasn’t missing anything. He then looked down at his two visitors with an apology in his eyes. “I wish I could’ve been of more help.”

T’Challa stood from his seated position and reached a hand out to Nia. She swatted it away and stood on her own, straightening out her long, flowing skirt before sending Abdu a warm smile. “Thank you for trying.”

“It was a pleasure, my dear.”

“So,” Nia turned to the king, “where to next?”

--------

The smile never left Okoye’s face as she landed the Talon in an open field and proudly led them to their next destination. They had traveled to Okoye’s hometown in the Mining province, and she nodded at her former neighbors as they waved to get her attention. It wasn’t often that she could return to Birnin Djata, but since she was on duty, she had to remain professional.

The town was much smaller than Birnin Zana, and the walk to the temple was much shorter this time around. A few moderately-sized dwellings lined the road to the temple, and Nia could see the town square in the distance. They passed groups of miners boarding and exiting the trains that took them to and from work, and Nia couldn’t help but wonder what all that vibranium looked like up close.

When they arrived at the temple, Nia was pleasantly surprised that this one actually looked like a place of worship. The wall that surrounded it looked as old as time, but the vibranium door in the center had to be no more than a hundred years old. A strange sound echoed from inside, and although Nia thought she recognized it, she was confused on why it was coming from a temple of all places.

“Is something wrong? What’s going on in there?” she asked with concern, making Okoye’s smile expand and her eyes light up.

“Sparring.”

Nia’s confusion grew, and she turned to T’Challa for clarification.

“Kokou is the god of war. Fighters often train here, and many of his followers go on to become great warriors. Including Okoye,” he explained.

“Ohhh, ok.”

Okoye led them up the temple’s steps, and Nia’s attention was drawn to the rows of fire that lined the walkway. As the party of three got closer to the doors, they slowly parted to grant them access. Loud shouts and grunts came from the right, and Okoye led them down the hallway, directly towards the noise.

Nia watched excitedly as the warriors-in-training sparred with one another. Fists connected with flesh, spears sliced through the air, and fighters seemed to glide across the padded floor. She recognized some of the fighting styles and thought back to her younger days when Amare took it upon himself to teach her some of the combat skills he had to learn for his days as a secret operative. Even though she was a healer, Nia sure was scrappy and could hold her own. It had been a while, though, and she was sure she had forgotten her training over the years.

A bell rang on the other side of the training room, and all of the fighting ceased. Okoye bowed her head in deference as a tall, muscular older woman in red emerged from an observation room and smiled softly in her direction.

“My king,” the woman saluted T’Challa, making all of the fighters whip their heads around and salute him as well. The woman crossed the floor as her trainees stood at attention, and grabbed Okoye’s hands in hers. “Okoye, my dear, it has been too long.”

“Priestess Yaa, how good to see you.”

“And my king, welcome to the Temple of Kokou.”

“Thank you, priestess.”

“What brings you here?” she asked before shooting a sly glance at Okoye. “You never come visit anymore, so I know it must be important.”

“My apologies for keeping her from you,” T’Challa interjected.

“None needed. I knew when Okoye became general that she would have little time for us anymore,” Yaa waved him off and smiled proudly at Okoye before her eyes fell to Nia. “And who is this?”

“Nia Olu,” she respectfully bowed her head.

“And you are a fighter too, no?”

“Um, not exactly. My father taught me how to fight when I was young, but I am a healer and a devotee of Bast.”

This was the first T’Challa had heard of her knowledge of combat, and he wondered what else he didn’t know about her.

“I’m sure it’s still in there somewhere. You have a warrior’s spirit.”

Nia was surprised by the priestess’ comment but thanked her nonetheless.

“Priestess Yaa, we have a problem that you might be able to help us solve,” the king stated.

Yaa nodded and called to her class, “Keep sparring. I’ll be back.”

The room came alive again, and Nia couldn’t help but watch the dozens of bodies moving about with powerful grace as they fought.

Yaa gestured for them to follow her, and she led them around a corner to get away from all the noise. “How can I help you, my king?”

“Bast is missing, and we would like to ask Kokou if he knows where she is,” he cut straight to the point, and Yaa appreciated his brevity.

She gestured again, and the four of them relocated to the other side of the temple. They entered a large, empty room with nothing except a wall of ancient weapons and a huge, raging fire pit in the center.

“This eternal flame was gifted to us by Kokou many millennia ago as a way of contacting him,” Yaa narrated. “In order for him to answer, you will each have to give a sacrifice.”

“I didn’t bring anything to-”

“Blood, dear. You sacrifice blood. He is the god of war, after all,” Yaa chuckled as she glided over to the wall of weapons. Her fingers danced along the flat side of the blade of a vibranium dagger with a red and gold hilt before wrapping her hand firmly around the grip and removing it from its position. Yaa tested the weight of it in her hand as she rejoined the group. Without warning, she sliced her palm open and allowed her blood to drip into the flame. The priestess noticed the look of horror on Nia’s face and attempted to quell her fears. “Don’t worry; you’ll only need a drop or two.”

Okoye was first to step up, pressing the dagger’s tip into her hand and drawing a small amount of blood. She handed the dagger to T’Challa as she made a fist and let her blood droplets fall into the fire pit. The king did the same before passing the dagger to Nia. She looked at it apprehensively, but T’Challa continued to hold it out for her to take.

“Go on, dear,” Yaa urged. “We will heal you up after.”

Nia and T’Challa locked eyes as they were both reminded of the night they became reacquainted with one another. T’Challa’s wound would quickly heal on its own, but she wouldn’t be able to use her powers to heal herself in Yaa’s and Okoye’s presence. She took a deep breath and tried to ignore the feeling of her palm stinging with the memory of alcohol pads. T’Challa knew where her mind had wandered to and took her formerly injured hand in his as he ran his thumb over her palm.

“It won’t be as bad as last time,” he whispered so only Nia could hear him. “Just a little cut, ok?”

Nia’s mouth dried up, and her eyes traveled to Okoye and Yaa. The priestess seemed intrigued by his tenderness towards her, but the irritation on Okoye’s face was clear as day. Nia remembered that he was a serial charmer and removed her hand from his. She reached for the dagger and quickly pricked her finger, squeezing a couple of droplets into the flame.

Yaa set the dagger aside to be cleaned and watched as the flames grew in intensity. All four of them stepped back when the fire surged towards the sky and took the vague shape of a man.

“Kokou,” Yaa fell to her knees, and the others followed her lead. “Thank you for answering our call.”

“Where is the fight?” his voice boomed around the expansive room as what looked to be his head swiveled from side to side taking in the four who summoned him. He had no eyes, but Nia felt his gaze land on her and linger for a moment too long.

“There is no fight this time, but we have an inquiry,” Yaa said as she stood.

“Very well,” Kokou’s voice rang out again, and the flames whipped in T’Challa’s direction. “What is so important that the king requires my assistance? Have you not a god of your own?”

T’Challa looked to Yaa for reassurance as he began to stand, and she nodded for him to continue. “Yes, I do, but she is missing.”

“Missing?! What do you mean missing?”

“She has not spoken to me in weeks, and Thoth has not seen or heard from her either.”

Kokou turned back to Nia. “And you have not heard from her?”

“No, sir,” Nia stood tall as she answered him.

“I am surprised she has not spoken to you of all...people,” he said with a mischievous lilt in his voice. Nia stilled as she realized that he knew what she was. She slyly made eye contact with T’Challa, and though his expression was unreadable, she knew he had to have heard it, too.

“You know, blood can tell you a lot about a person...or being,” Kokou began to pace around the large fire pit. “Who they are, what their lineage is...you, Nia, are very special. But I am sure you know that already, don’t you?”

Nia ignored the confused stares from Yaa and Okoye and stared straight into where she assumed Kokou’s eyes to be. “Yes, sir.”

“Good.”

“Kokou-”

“Patience, your highness,” the god chastised T’Challa, “I was getting to it. I just had to take a little detour first since you brought me such an interesting young lady. Now, to answer your question: sorry to disappoint, but no. I do not know where Bast is. I wish I did, though; she is an excellent sparring partner.”

Nia and T’Challa both deflated a little bit. They had hoped for a better answer than that.

“Thank you, Kokou,” T’Challa spoke with his head bowed to the god. The others did the same, and just as quickly as he had appeared, Kokou was gone.

--------

“Third time’s the charm,” T’Challa mumbled as he held the intricate iron gate open. Nia and Okoye walked through, and the general was blown away by the beauty before them. The botanical gardens sat on a protected stretch of land on the border between the Mining and River provinces, but people from all over the country traveled there to witness its splendor.

Nia, however, was no stranger to the gardens. She made sure to visit a few times a year just to sit and commune with the diverse group of plants, but she never knew it doubled as a place of worship. She liked that the gardens were never full of people, and depending on how deep she veered off the main walkways, she could avoid the public altogether. Except for the delightful presence of one of the attendants, Nia always managed to find solitude and serenity among the plants of the botanical gardens.

“Has this always been Mujaji’s temple?” she asked as the three of them followed the long, winding path that led to the greenhouses in the back of the gardens.

“As far as I’m aware. Why?”

“It’s just that I’ve been here before, and I never knew. I always felt like there was...something here, but I just assumed I was feeling the energy from all of the plants.”

“You can do that?” Okoye asked, and she caught another shared glance between Nia and the king. They had been doing that all day, and she was growing tired of it.

Nia opened her mouth to try to fix her slip-up, but she was saved when a young woman about her age emerged from behind a mango tree and recognized her colorful headwrap.

“Nia?”

“Sukutai!”

Nia ran over to her, and the women embraced. A smile crept up T’Challa’s cheeks at seeing Nia’s faint glow again, but, unfortunately, it seemed that Okoye might have seen it as well. The king ignored her pointed stares and continued to watch Nia and the woman from afar.

“What are you doing here? It’s been months since I saw you last!” Sukutai playfully scolded her before leaning in like she had a secret to tell. “You have to see the new fire lily blooms; I know they’re your favorite.”

“They are,” Nia chuckled, “but I’m here on business today.”

“Business?”

Nia gestured behind her, and Sukutai’s eyes widened in shock as she finally noticed T’Challa and Okoye standing in the distance.

“My apologies, my king,” she quickly saluted him, but he waved her off.

“None needed. Any friend of Nia’s is a friend of mine.”

Sukutai’s eyebrows almost reached her hairline as she turned back to Nia. “I know we don’t know each other very well, but how come you never told me you knew the king?”

“He’s new,” Nia shrugged nonchalantly.

Sukutai shook her head fondly at her friend as T’Challa and Okoye came to stand next to her.

“What brings you to my humble garden, your highness?”

“I would say this is anything but humble, priestess,” he chuckled. This time it was Nia’s turn to be surprised.

“Priestess?!”

“Yeah, I don’t like to advertise it,” Sukutai shrugged.

“Well, I guess we both have our secrets,” Nia teased, making her friend giggle.

“I guess we do.”

“Sukutai, we are here because we need to speak with Mujaji. Bast is missing and-”

“You need to see if he knows where she is.”

“Yes,” T’Challa nodded.

“Right this way,” Sukutai said as she stuck her elbow out for Nia. She wrapped her arm around it, and the two of them took off, chatting about the flora they passed on the way.

Sukutai led them to the back of the botanical gardens towards the greenhouses. There were several smaller ones scattered around that were about the size of Nia’s home, but the very last greenhouse was huge. It stood about two stories tall and expanded across an acre of land.

“How did I miss this?” Nia wondered aloud.

“You weren’t looking for it,” Sukutai winked. “Too distracted by the pretty flowers, as usual.”

“You should really pay more attention to your surroundings, Nia,” T’Challa teased, and she narrowed her eyes at him. Despite the fact that she was still very hesitant to trust Nia, Okoye had to stifle a chuckle at her attitude. It was refreshing for her to see a woman that seemed to be immune to his charms.

The four of them entered the greenhouse, and Nia was amazed at what she saw. Instead of beautiful flowers and lush trees and bushes, there were rows and rows of crops.

“I knew you had some fruit trees, but I didn’t know you grew other foods here, too,” she said with her mouth wide open.

“We have to. Who do you think taught us how to work the land?”

Nia nodded as she soaked up Sukutai’s words. It had never occurred to her that the humans had to learn agriculture from somewhere...or someone. She wondered if aziza had learned from him, too, and if so, why hadn’t she heard about it? Were their history books incomplete, too? Nia’s train of thought was cut short as they arrived at the center of the greenhouse. There was a large patch of soil surrounded by an old stone wall no more than two feet tall. A small plaque near the opening caught the visitors’ eyes, and they crowded around to read it.

“The first garden?” Nia gasped, and her eyes traveled to the rich soil.

Sukutai smiled proudly, “That’s right. This is where Wakandans first learned how to grow sorghum. Mujaji’s magic still inhabits the land, and he allows us to speak to him through it.”

“How does it work?” T’Challa asked, equally in awe of the plot of land that allowed his people to prosper. Yes, they had vibranium, but what use would that be without the ability to feed themselves? Had they remained hunter-gatherers, they never would have gotten to where they are today.

“I’ll show you,” Sukutai said as she untied her shoes. “Nia, would you like to help?”

“M-me?”

“Yes, you, silly. You have the heart and hands of a gardener.”

“What do you need me to do?”

“First thing’s first, shoes off,” Sukutai instructed, and Nia slid out of her sandals. “Now, you see those jars full of seeds over there?”

Sukutai gestured behind them, and they all turned around to follow her line of vision.

“Yes,” Nia’s voice shook as she spoke.

“Don’t worry about what each one is. Just go pick whichever one calls to you.”

Nia nodded and padded her way over to the table covered in glass jars. She felt the power radiating from each one, but she felt compelled to pick up a small jar full of green coffee beans. Her hand instinctively reached out to touch it, but she pulled back and looked to the priestess for permission.

“Go ahead, take one,” Sukutai urged, and Nia carefully screwed the top off. She reached in and grabbed one of the beans, and walked back over to Sukutai.

“Ok, how does this work?”

“We start with a yes or no question. Let’s try ‘Do you know where Bast is?’ and go from there, ok?”

“Ok.”

“Follow me.”

Sukutai stepped onto the sacred land, and Nia did the same. The ground seemed to vibrate, and Nia’s face lit up. The slight glow returned to her skin, and this time Okoye was sure in what her eyes beheld. She quickly turned towards T’Challa, who looked at her out of the corner of his eye but kept quiet. He shifted his weight away from her nervously and continued to watch Nia and Sukutai work.

“You feel it too, huh?” Sukutai asked with a sly smile on her face.

“It feels...it feels like my feet are buzzing.”

Sukutai’s head cocked to the side, and her eyes narrowed as she tried to understand exactly what was happening. Nia obviously wasn’t a priestess of Mujaji, yet his magic spoke to her in some way. That wasn’t normal, and neither was the faint highlight that appeared on her skin.

“Yeah, it does,” she agreed and shook the suspicions out of her head. She knelt to the ground, and Nia followed suit. “Hold the seed in your hands, close to your face- yes, just like that. Now, close your eyes and let it feel your energy. When you are ready, speak to it. Ask your question.”

Nia shut her eyes and focused on the feeling of the seed in her hands. She pictured it growing big and strong, and after a few moments, her mouth was filled with the taste of coffee. It was ready. She brought it closer to her lips and whispered, “Do you know where Bast is?”

When she peeled her eyes open, she saw a huge grin on Sukutai’s face.

“You’re a natural.”

“Thanks,” Nia giggled. “What now?”

“Now you plant it.”

“Anywhere?”

“Wherever you choose.”

Nia studied the ground around her and turned a little to the left. She held the seed in her left hand as she made a small mound in the dirt with her right. She gave the seed one last glance before pushing it into the soil.

“No water?” she asked.

Sukutai shook her head with a mischievous smile, “No need.”

“Ok...so now we wait?”

“It won’t take long. Usually about-” Sukutai’s eyes widened. “Look!”

Four sets of eyes trained on the tiny green sprout that pushed up from the ground.

“It’s never happened that fast before.”

The sprout turned into a seedling, and the seedling matured right before their eyes. Just as hope began to fill the air, it left, and the coffee plant shriveled up. The leaves turned brown, then a murky black before decomposing entirely. Everyone’s shoulders slumped in defeat, and silence descended upon the group. Without even asking, they all knew it was a resounding “no.”

--------

The silence was thick on the ride back to Nia’s. Okoye flew the Talon with a million questions running through her mind, all of which seemed to come back to Nia. Who is she? What is she?

Nia left her position by the window, no longer interested in the ground below, and met T’Challa by his sand table. She watched for a moment as the molecules dispersed and recollected themselves in the shapes of the temples they just visited and the gods they just contacted. He chewed on his lip as he tried to put the pieces together, but there just wasn’t enough information.

“T’Challa?” Nia spoke softly to keep Okoye from hearing.

“Hm?” he grunted without looking up.

“What if the problem isn't in this realm?”

The king tore his eyes away from the table, and the sand fell flat.

“You are suggesting we go to the magic realm?”

“Again with the ‘we,’” she sighed. “No, I’m suggesting I go to the magic realm.”

He stared at her blankly for a moment before calling out to Okoye, “General?”

“Yes, my king?”

“You will travel back to the palace alone-”

“No-” Nia tried to stop him.

“I will be staying with Nia a little while longer. I will call when I need you.”

“Yes, my king.”

Nia dragged her hand down her face, then immediately looked down and noticed the clay that had transferred to her palm. She pinched the bridge of her nose and groaned in frustration, both at the king and at her careless mistake.

“T’Challa, I just said-”

“I know what you said,” he snipped, “but this is my kingdom, and I need to know what’s going on.”

“But-”

“I’m going with you, and that’s final.” He turned away and joined Okoye in the cockpit.

Nia sat off to the side and pouted the rest of the way home. When they arrived, Okoye reluctantly left the king behind and flew off to the palace.

“She could’ve just stayed outside, you know,” Nia fussed as they entered her home. “Now she definitely knows something is up.”

He rolled his eyes, “She knew something was up the moment you started glowing.”

Nia froze and mentally kicked herself for not using the glamor spell her ubaba had taught her. She was in such a rush that morning that it completely slipped her mind. The smug look on T’Challa’s face made her want to slap him, so she stormed down the hall to her bathroom to fix her facepaint. As soon as she finished, Nia heard the king make a strange noise and looked out to see what he had done. A laugh erupted from her belly as she watched the king stand on the couch to get away from Sego. He glared at her, but his eyes promptly fell back on the python that was too close for comfort.

“Call off your snake!”

“Python,” she giggled. “Sego, stop messing with him, please.”

Sego turned her way, and Nia could see the playful look in his eyes. He thoroughly enjoyed messing with the king. T’Challa climbed down from the couch and let out a calming breath as Sego slithered away to the kitchen.

“So the mighty Black Panther is scared of pythons, huh?” she mocked him as she leaned against the doorframe.

“Not scared...I just don’t like them.”

“Mhm. If it makes you feel any better, he’s not fully a python. He’s a shifter.”

“Meaning…”

“Meaning sometimes he’s in his human form, sometimes he’s in his python form.”

T’Challa thought about it for a moment. “Actually, that does make me feel better. Thanks.”

Nia smirked and rolled her eyes.

“So,” T’Challa cleared his throat, “what now?”

“First, we go see my ubaba, then the queen.”

“Ok...how do we, you know, get there?”

“It’s easy,” she bragged as she walked over to him. “Give me your hand, and I’ll show you.”

Nia reached out to him, and when their hands connected, an image of the two of them sharing a feverish kiss popped into her mind. She gasped and pulled back as though she had touched a hot stove.

“What is it?!”

“N-nothing, I just,” she had to think of something quick. “My headwrap. I take it off when I go to the magic realm...to, uh, let my ears breathe, you know?”

“Um, ok.”

Nia hurried from the room and left T’Challa standing there, confused about what just happened. He knew she was lying despite the fact that her excuse had some semblance of truth to it. Thanks to the heart-shaped herb, T’Challa could hear her heartbeat, and something had caused her heart to almost beat out of her chest. His suspicions didn’t last for long, though, because when she came back from her room, his jaw dropped. Of course, he had noticed her beauty the first time, well the second time, he laid eyes on her, but as she came down the hallway fluffing her coils out into an afro that framed her face like an obsidian halo, he felt a knot form in his chest.

“Ready?” she asked, obviously over whatever had been bothering her.

“Yeah,” T’Challa cleared his throat. He was suddenly parched. “Ready.”

“Ok.” She grabbed his hands again, but this time there was no vision. Nia sighed in relief and looked him dead in his eyes as the atmosphere around them began to thicken. “Be cool. Don’t embarrass me.”

Next Chapter

Taglist: @maddeningmayhem, @theblulife, @motheroffae, @love-mesome-me, @toni9, @bribrisback, @dersha89, @impremenior, @ljstraightnochaser, @love--life--passion, @yourstrulybrii

[cacoetheswriting]

idea of perfection

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader Warnings: kinda angsty, subtle mentions of weight / body image issues Word Count: 1.3k Request: anonymous: “i was wondering if you could write something with Spencer and a plus size reader based on the song heather but please let them end up together.” A/N: so for context i made jj ‘heather’ in this fic. this kinda takes place around the first season so will isn't in the picture yet and spencer is crushing on her. hope you like it!

-

The air caught in your throat as the petite blonde entered the room. She neatly placed the latest case files on the conference table and peeked up at you; a warm grin illuminating her already perfect features. Your mouth twitched into an awkward half-smile before she turned her attention to the screen turning it on.

Your eyes however were still fixated on her. Rather on what she was wearing. A burgundy sweater you knew all too well hung loosely on her figure. Underneath, she wore a white blouse. Silk no doubt. The collar was elegantly placed around the ruff making the colour of the sweater pop even more.

There was no denying JJ looked great, like an off-duty runway model. When you were lucky enough to wear that exact same burgundy garment that one afternoon it clung to your body tightly, you were afraid you might stretch it out on him. You glanced down at your stomach and sighed quietly.

A million questions raced through your mind. Why was JJ wearing that? Where did she get it? Did he give it to her? Obviously he must have, that was the only logical explanation, but why did he give it to her. Why? Why-

The young doctor entered the briefing room and immediately breaking you away from your thoughts. Sitting up straight in your chair you watched as Spencer sat down across from you, his eyes glued to JJ. The two of them exchanged soft smiles. He complimented her awkwardly, pointing at the sweater. Her smile widened. “Thanks Spence. And thank you for letting me borrow it.”  

The lump in your throat grew tighter with every passing second. It was clear that the blonde cared about him deeply. Whether her feelings were romantic or platonic no-one really knew but either way you couldn't compete with JJ. A sight for sore eyes. Brighter than the blue sky. You stood no chance. It made you want to curl into a ball and cry.

“You have to just come clean Y/N.” Elle whispered as the two of you walked out of the briefing. “Are you crazy?” You muttered back. “Babe, you will never know until you try.” “I do know. He likes her.” Elle shrugged. “I know in my gut that the pretty doctor has his eyes set on you.” “You’re delusional.” “You’re delusional.” She walked around her desk, reaching underneath for her things. You rolled your eyes playfully at the brunette and proceeded to grab your own go-bag before the two of you headed for the elevator together. 

Elle has been your friend since day one. Your ‘partner and confidant’ as she calls it. She is the only person on the team that knows your true feelings towards Spencer. Sworn to secrecy, she nudges you a little everyday to ask him out. Encourages you to make small talk with the young doctor, sit next to him at the bar during afterwork drinks or on the jet - which is exactly what she prompted you to do when stepping onto the aircraft.

She nudged you gently, yet effectively, making you stumble into the free seat beside Spencer.  

“Hi.” “Hello.” He greeted you with a warm smile. It made your heart skip a beat.

“What are you reading?” You asked, pointing to the book in his lap. He showed you the front cover before answering. “The Lucifer Effect by Philip Zimbardo.” “What’s it about?” You probed while making yourself comfortable. “It explores why good people can be convinced to act evil and where the line is really drawn between good and bad. It also gives an excellent insight into the power of roles and group identity, and how humans can become cruel very quickly in the right situation.”  

Trying to get a quick scan of the page Spencer was currently on, you leaned towards him. It wasn’t until he stopped talking that you realised how suddenly close the two of you were. Nervously, you looked up to find he was already looking at you. 

“W-well-” You cleared your throat. “Be sure to let me know if it’s worth the read when you’re finished.” Spencer nodded, still looking at you. “I suspect I’ll have just enough time to make a coffee.” You joked awkwardly hoping he’d laugh. He did. 

“If eh- if you make me one too I can summarise the book for you.” 

“It’s a date.” 

It took you a second to register the sentence that has just come out of your mouth. You bit your tongue, eyes wide with horror. But Spencer didn't seem to mind, maybe he misunderstood what you meant. Or maybe he didn't realise that you said it because in that moment Morgan slumped down across from you. 

“So pretty boy, couldn't help but notice that JJ was wearing your favourite sweater this morning.” Spencer’s eyes darted from you to Derek. You took note of the slight reddish blush greeting the young doctors facial features. Nervously, he cleared his throat.“I let her borrow it.” “Nice one kid!” Morgan exclaimed with a grin as you sulked back into your seat; heart aching.

The rest of the day flew by in the blink of an eye. It was suddenly two in the morning and the whole team was heading back to the hotel, all equally exhausted. 

As usual you were bunking with Elle who called dibs on the bathroom and disappeared the moment you set foot inside your room. Through the wall, you could hear the shower being switched on accompanied by Elle’s not so quiet humming. 

There was a knock on the door breaking you away from listening to the concert Elle was performing. With a smile on your face, you headed to open it. The young doctor greeted you on the other side. 

“Spencer, what are you doing here?” 

He held up the book he was reading earlier. “I’m here for our date.” 

You blinked - did you hear that correctly? “I-uh” “It-It’s late I know, but I eh didn't want you thinking I stood you up.” With a raised brow, you stepped out into the hall closing the door behind you. You couldn’t tell whether he was being serious. Obviously not, right? 

“Spencer, I was just kidding around.” You lied, instantly regretting it. His face fell. “Oh, I’m sorry Y/N. I’ll eh I’m just gonna go.” He hesitated briefly before turning on his heel to walk away. “Goodnight Y/N.” 

The young doctor began to stride down the hall. You cursed quietly as Elle’s comment to ‘come clean’ flashed like an alert in your head. 

“Spencer wait!” 

He froze and immediately turned back to look in your direction. Taking a deep breath, you took a couple of steps towards him. He did the same and the two of you met in the middle. 

“I lied, I wasn’t kidding. I would love to go on a date with you.” Anxiously, you pulled at the hem of your shirt as you continued on. There were tears forming in your eyes. “But then I think, why would you ever want to go out with someone like- like me. Someone who looks like me when you could easily be with the perfect petite JJ. Why would you ever kiss me? I'm not even half as pretty. She’s perfect and, well, I’m not.” 

Finally, you mustered up the courage to look up from your feet and meet his inviting soft gaze. “The idea of perfection is outdated in my opinion.” Spencer stated while taking a step forward so that you were now standing chest to chest.

“Imagine looking at a rainbow and complaining that one of the colours wasn't perfect. That be ridiculous, yet it’s exactly what humans do when we judge ourselves for our imperfections. We forget that as humans we are also part of nature and therefore should fall into acceptance of the natural state of life which happens to be imperfect.” 

Slowly, and slightly awkwardly, the young doctor lifted his hand to cup your cheek. You leaned into his warm touch without hesitation. “H-however to me Y/N,” He paused. “, y-you are perfect.” 

-

masterlist

[pen-paper-and-ink]

Champagne Problems

Chapter Three

Masterlist

Sam eventually went to back to his own apartment around noon, leaving Aelin with plenty of time to focus on her English assignment.  Instead of a final test in English, there was a final paper, and Aelin was struggling with what words to put down.

She knew the book inside and out; the words just were not coming to her today. She could usually just sit at her computer and let the words flow out of her, but that was not happening.  She eventually just went back and skimmed through her outline, getting herself to refocus. She finally gave up a half an hour later and resorted to texting Rowan.

“Want to come over and study.  I’ll order takeout from Emry’s. It will be just like old times.”

The response came only seconds later. “I’d love too, but some of us have class in an hour.”

She could practically here the snort in his reply. “Could you possibly skip this class and study with me instead?”

“I would but it’s the last class before the final, and I need the review.”

“Boo. You suck.” She emphasized with an emoji that was sticking its tongue out at him.

“See you later, Ace :)”She swore he refused to use emoji’s just to spite her.

When she was finally done pouting, she eventually pulled her phone back out to text Lysandra, who easily agreed to come over.  Although Lysandra was not diligent as Rowan when it came to studying and making study schedules, she was better than nothing, especially when Aelin was having trouble concentrating.

She showed up to Aelin’s apartment wearing an oversized fuzzy pink sweater and a pair of black leggings, as well as two chocolate bars.  She might now be Aelin’s favorite person.

She definitely was not Aelin’s favorite person the first time they met, though.  They were both petty and stubborn and got along about as well as cats getting a bath. That eventually changed the march of their freshmen year, when Aelin chased off a shady guy who was trying to follow a very drunk Lys into the bathroom at a frat house. Lysandra had been her constant companion since then, especially when it came to  topics including clothes and boys.

“Hello, Babe,” Lysandra chirped happily as she strode into Aelin’s apartment.  She shrugged off her bag and dropped the candy onto her plush sofa.  Aelin went to wrap her harms around Lysandra who returned the gesture. “I brought chocolate as a study motivator for the both of us, but you already smell of candy.”

Aelin groans. “Shut up.  Sam bought me this perfume, it’s his favorite.”

“Mhm,” Lysandra hums giving Aelin a conspiratorial grin, “I think he like’s that you’re his own personal snack.” Lysandra says wiggling her eyebrows.

Aelin only rolled her eyes at her friend, “whatever.”

“You smell good, babe, just really sweet. Even sweeter than that bath and body works body spray that everyone bathed their selves in in middle school, if that’s even possible. But I think he likes that.  How many times has he bitten your neck when you have been wearing it?” Lysandra asked with further eyebrow wiggling.

“You’re way too into our love life.  How long has it been since you’ve had date?” This time it was Aelin’s turn to wiggle her eyebrows.

“It’s been a while,” Lysandra moans loudly, but she turns her grin back onto Aelin, “but you didn’t answer my question.”

Aelin sighs loudly and slumps back onto her couch. “It’s not like he does it often.”

Lysandra snickers and she lounges next to Aelin. “So, I see it’s getting pretty serious. I even saw the picture he keeps of you in his wallet.”

“In his wallet?” Aelin snorts. “I didn’t think that people still did that. I thought the real milestone of a serious relationship was making a picture of your significant other your home screen on your phone.”

“Yes, you relationship guru.  Are you ready to study now?”

. . .

It turns out that Lysandra was the perfect person to get Aelin to finish her English paper.  About two hours after Lysandra arrived, Aelin had finished her paper, submitted it, and was able to eat her chocolate bar as a reward.  They then watched a shitty romcom on Netflix until Lysandra had to leave for her evening class.

That now left Aelin plenty of time to get ready to go to the Cadre’s for the night. It also gave Aelin some time to harass Rowan about his class.

“How was class?” Aelin texted.

“Good.  Did you finally finish your paper, you demon?  Bribing me with Emry’s and everything.” Rowan replied.

“I finished it and submitted it and everything. I even ate a celebratory chocolate bar without you.” She brags.

“I just wanted you to know that I am rolling my eyes at you.” Was his only response.

“Would it kill you to just use the emoji?” Aelin demanded.

“Yes.” Well at least she had her answer.

“See you at the Cadre’s in a few hours or so?” She inquired.

“Yes,” was once again his only response. Boys, Aelin thought rolling her eyes. What was with boys and their one-word answers.  With that, Aelin pulled up Spotify on her TV to blast some music as she prepared for her night.

She was having fun running around her apartment sing- screaming the lyrics to Teenage Dirtbag as she prepared dinner and tidied up her apartment.  Pop-rock and other angsty songs which she listened to as a teenager, always brought back fond memories.  Her friends always made fun of her emo music in high school, so she decided to switch to some more mainstream stereotypical party music when hanging out with her college friends. The mainstream stuff like Doja Cat and Cardi B, stuff that was always playing loudly at clubs and house parties.

Aelin also had a soft spot for love songs and romantic ballads.  Frank Sinatra always reminded her of her parents spinning around their living room on a weeknight.  She always thought that they were disgustingly in love. Always holding hands and kissing in front of her and her friends.  Aelin now regrets giving them crap about it, especially since the time they had together ended up being cut short.

She ends up eating her frozen pasta dinner over the kitchen island as she hummed along to an old fall out boy song. She went to check her phone and saw a message from Sam which simply asked if she was going to be at the Cadre’s in an hour, she sent back a simple yes as a response and finished up her dinner. Once she was done, she decided that it was probably time to get dressed for the night.

Aelin loved getting dressed up.  She found it calming.  Once she picked out an outfit she would methodically paint her face and do her hair. She scanned her overflowing closet, her gaze gliding over black cocktail dresses, sportswear, blazers, sun dresses, and band T’s.  She decided on a pair of skinny jeans and an oversized concert t-shirt since she just wanted to wear something simple, and the Cadre’s was a fairly run-down dive bar, though Aelin didn’t mind being overdressed, she loved her clothes and wasn’t afraid to show off and look fabulous doing so.

Once she was dressed, she went into her bathroom to do her makeup.  She blended concealer and foundation into her skin, and painstaking lined her eyes with black liquid liner.  She had decided on a classic cat eye with red lips, something you could never go wrong with.   She reached down for her tube of lipstick then remembered that Sam got kind of soppy and romantic when he was drunk and reached for a liquid lip instead.

She then quickly curled her hair and accessed her appearance.  Her skin was flawless, her eyebrows were groomed to perfection, the eyeliner accentuated her blazing blue-gold eyes wonderfully, and her crimson red lips went well with the look.  Her golden hair was voluminous in big beach waves, she overall was pleased with her appearance, especially after spending the entire day in lounge wear studying. It felt good to be put together after a day of lounging around her apartment while trying to write.  Overall Aelin thought she looked hot as fuck.

She quickly pulled on her heeled black booties, grabbed her bag and she was out the door.

. . .

The bar was so loud, the baseline of the song that was playing was all that could be heard.  Lysandra had left the group about an hour in, to go flirt with some guy she had met previously that night and had eventually went home with him, after checking in with Aelin.  Aelin dutifully took down the guys information, with Lys promising to check in with her later in the evening.  That left Aelin to hang with the guys.

They had all gathered tonight.  Sam, Lorcan, Conall, Fenrys, Rowan, and Aelin.  They had all had a few rounds and were now all laughing over stupid shit, even Lorcan, who Aelin didn’t know could even laugh before tonight.

They were all giddy over the thought of finishing the school year.  Rowan, Lorcan, and Sam were all graduating in a week, and Aelin and the twins were officially 75% done with their education.  There was a lot to celebrate and drink to.

Aelin’s thigh was pressed against Rowan’s in the booth as they started arguing over which actor was the best Spiderman. That was the one habit they had kept from the time when they hated each other, the arguing. Rowan and Aelin were known to argue over everything, though now the disagreements were over trivial things and mostly just involved teasing. Rowan was arguing in favor of Tobey Maguire, which Aelin made gagging noises over when he finally confessed as to who her thought the best actor was.

“I’m sorry to inform you,” Aelin started, elbow on the table starring up at her best friends face, “That we cannot be friends anymore.  I simply cannot be friends with anyone who thinks that Tobey Maguire makes a better Spiderman than Tom Holland.  That’s blasphemous, and I will not stand for it.”

“You can’t mess with the original, Ace.” Rowan responds looking serious. “He just cannot be beat.”

“Yeah, Ace.” Conall responds, apparently feeling the need to weigh in on their argument. Rowan frowns at him, no doubt from the fact that Conall called her Ace, which usually only Rowan called her that, with the exclusion of Sam who had recently gone about calling her that. Rowan has always felt a little possessive over the name Ace.

“No, No, No,” Fenrys butts in, his words slurring slightly, “I agree with Aelin. Tom Holland is simply the best. Also, have you seen his lip sync battle?  Tell me Tobey Maguire could pull that off. I dare you.”

“He can’t,” Aelin laughs, “He simply can’t.”

“I also agree that Tom Holland is the best Spiderman.” Sam says with a sly smile.

Rowan frowns at him.  “You’re only agreeing with Aelin because she’s your girlfriend.”

Sam laughs, gets up and slides onto the opposite booth and sits next to Aelin, “No, no one can compete with Holland’s acting chops.” He says as he throws his arm around Aelin’s shoulders.

“There’s only one way to decide then,” Conall says with a smirk. “Lorcan must be the deciding vote.”

Aelin and Fenrys both protest loudly, claiming Lorcan had no taste, and that Lorcan would choose Maguire just to spite them.

Rowan shuts the protests up by turning to Lorcan and asking for his vote.

Lorcan looks sheepishly around before he says, “I actually think Andrew Garfield plays the best Spiderman.”

The group eventually quiets back down, as the night begins to come to an end. Lorcan was the first one to head out, claiming he had a final tomorrow.  Fenrys left soon after, receiving a text from a semi-frequent hook-up asking him to come over.  Conall then convinced Sam to play darts with him, beating Sam every round.  Sam still seemed to be enjoying himself though, laughing every time he missed one of the rings, and once the board entirely. Aelin never understood why bar owners thought it was a good idea to put a dart board in the middle of drunk men with questionable aim, but who was she to question it.

Sam and Conall’s questionable game of darts did, however, leave Aelin and Rowan alone for the first time that night.  Aelin had been missing spending time with her best friend.  It seemed that every time they tried to get together, outside of their morning runs, they were busy or surrounded by other people.  

“So, how are you Buzzard?” Aelin asks with a slow smile.

“How are you, fireheart?” Rowan asks, far too seriously for the night they have been having.

Aelin’s heart begins to pound loudly in her chest. He hardly ever called her that, only when he was feeling particularly affectionate.

“All’s good.” She replied, still smiling.  Her heart pounded faster still when his fingers brushed against her cheek.

“An eyelash had fallen.” Was all Rowan said, still gazing at her with an intense stare.

“Oh.” Aelin said, “I hadn’t noticed.”

Rowan only gave her a sad smile as he stood up.  He ended up tripping while trying to remove himself from his seat, which made her burst out laughing.  Rowan, who was usually graceful to a fault, had tripped. He was more drunk than she had initially thought, he must be excited to be graduating.

“Do you need help?” Aelin asked.

“I am fine.” Rowan growled back.

“Are you sure about that?” Aelin asked, trying to hide her laughter. “You seem a little unsteady on your feet.”

“I’m fine, I’m going to head home for the night.” Rowan said, regaining his balance and his usual stoic expression. He grabbed his jacket from where he had been sitting.

“How about you come home with me,” Aelin offered. “You seem a bit unsteady there, Buzzard.”

“I’m fine,” Rowan said again. “I’ll get a cab. Goodnight.” Rowan threw her one last smile, then exited the bar, never bothering to turn back.

. . .

The dreams usually began with a dizzying array of colors, then quickly moved on to flashes of memory. Her heart begins to pound so loudly she can hear it in her head, in her dreams.  Once her senses are overwhelmed with the shadow of memories and the deafening sound of her own heartbeat, is when she would stop breathing. The lack of air is what usually wakes her from her slumber.

Aelin Galathynius quickly padded across the floor of her bedroom to her bathroom, closing the door behind her, where she then vomited into the toilet. She always made sure the door to the bathroom was closed and locked, so Sam could not hear her, or accidently open the bathroom door in the middle of the night to find her lying on the floor next to the toilet.

After Aelin was done emptying the contents of her stomach into the toilet, she slumped down onto the floor.  The cool tile against her back, where her loose sleep camisole did not cover, always seemed to ground her.  The hot flashes, the insanity from the dreams and then the vomiting always began to dissipate once she felt the cool tile against her body.

She laid on the floor for a while, breathing in and out and waiting for her pulse to return to normal. The memories she tried to escape during her day, where always ruthlessly unleashed during the night, pursuing her where she could not escape them. Although she couldn’t escape the dreams and memories, they were significantly better within the last few years, only occurring every once in a while, instead of every night.

Aelin thought back to her freshmen year, where she would drink all night long, or get into fights, just to try to stay awake just a little longer so she wouldn’t have to face what was waiting in her subconscious.  Aelin was good at that, pushing things away, not examining anything too closely in case it might trigger a panic attack.

Aelin would eventually have to get up, brush her teeth and make her way back to bed where her loving boyfriend was sleeping, but she allowed herself to rest for a moment more on the floor.  Though Sam knew what happened when she was eighteen in veiled terms, and through short bursts of vulnerability, she couldn’t get herself to admit to him that she still had panic attacks, and nightmares from her previous years. In fact, the only person who knew she still suffered through them was Rowan.

Rowan was her constant star and steadfast companion when it came to the pain of suddenly losing someone. He was also well aware of the way she tried to deal with it afterward, for that was how they found each other.  They were both so wrapped up in their grief and their own self destruction that they couldn’t see the other person in front of them. When Aelin pulled her head out of her ass, as Aedion called it, and finally called a truce with Rowan, and later became friends with him, is when Aelin realized that they had the same grief festering inside them.  They also had the same self-destructive streak, so they vowed to find their way out of the madness and grief together.

For a moment Aelin wished Rowan was with her, gently coaxing her get up and brush her teeth, rubbing his hand on her back soothingly, waiting for her pulse to slow back down. Rowan always knew how to reach her, how to soothe her.

Aelin slowly got up, and eventually made her way back to her sleeping boyfriend who was unaware that anything had happened. She tried to fall asleep next to her boyfriend, but she couldn’t, she was too busy wishing Rowan was beside her with his soothing touch luring her back to sleep.

Taglist

@rowaelinismyotp

[prouvaireafterdark]

Wrong Place, Right Time

For the @malexremix, I remixed @insidious-intent’s excellent frat bro Michael fic! Fair warning, though: it’s rule 63

Also on AO3!

***

Fuck this fucking planet, Guerin thinks as she shivers in the icy December chill, leaning heavily against the cold metal of the bus stop shelter. The minutes drag by slow as molasses as she waits for the shuttle that was supposed to take her home almost half an hour ago.  

Ugh. This is the goddamn last time she tries to do the responsible thing and doesn’t take her truck when she’s heading to the bar. Now, with her patience and her alcohol blanket wearing thin, she’s never been more disappointed that her alien powers don’t include flight or teleportation. 

With a beleaguered sigh, she takes her phone out of her pocket and pulls up the bus schedule. The tips of her fingers grow numb with the cold as she waits for the piece of shit app to load, and when it finally does she’s met with a red banner that reads, Late night buses cancelled due to icy conditions.

“God fucking damn it,” she groans, throwing her head backward in frustration so forcefully that her skull smacks against the hard metal bus shelter. “Ow, fuck,” she winces, the pain flaring up instantly. She reaches up to rub the tender spot with her cold fingertips, wishing she had a bottle of acetone at her disposal.

It’s the thought of acetone that reminds her of Isobel and, more importantly, Isobel’s car, which is undoubtedly sitting in the lot outside her sorority house not too far from here. She’ll mock her mercilessly for it, but she probably won’t say no to letting Guerin borrow it if she promises to buy her bubble tea when she brings it back. 

Without a better idea, Guerin pushes off the bus shelter and starts walking, head downcast as her numb fingers type out a text to Isobel. 

She heads a few blocks down Sorority Row, eyes scanning the houses for those familiar Greek letters. When she finally spots them, she recognizes Isobel’s handiwork immediately in the tasteful Christmas decorations adorning the house’s brightly lit facade. Garlands encircle the tall white columns that line the porch and each and every window is framed with pale yellow lights, a festive wreath in its center. 

She also notices, much to her chagrin, that there appears to be some kind of party going on inside. Muffled music seeps through the walls and she can see people mingling inside through the large windows in the front of the house. 

Guerin checks her phone one last time, but Isobel’s read receipts tell her she hasn’t even seen the message yet. Looks like she’s going to have to go inside and find her. 

She looks down at her jeans and fleece-lined jacket, both threadbare and thrifted, and briefly considers some light carjacking, but in the end, she decides against it—as annoyed as Isobel will be with her for showing up to a party at her sorority dressed like this, it’ll be much worse if she wakes up to find her car missing. 

Sighing deeply, Guerin turns down the red brick path to the porch and makes her way to the front door.

One fist is poised to knock, the other buried deep in the pocket of her jacket, when an unexpected voice comes from her left.

“You lost?” the voice says. 

Guerin’s curls whip through the air as she turns to see Alex Manes, the very talented, very hot musician who sometimes plays at the undergrad cafe Guerin works at on the weekend, sitting in one of the rocking chairs on the porch. How she missed her sitting there is anyone’s guess, but now that she has the opportunity to look at her she isn’t going to waste it.

In the glow of the Christmas lights, she can see Alex is wearing heavy black combat boots and the tightest skinny jeans she’s ever seen with a thick knit maroon cardigan drawn closed across her chest. Her dark eyes are lined in black, as always, and in her lap is a battered moleskin notebook with a pencil caught between its pages.

“Nope,” Guerin answers, smiling as she turns more fully in Alex’s direction and takes a step closer. “I’m looking for Isobel.”

“Really?” Alex asks, head cocked to the side in confusion. “Why?” 

It’s a fair question, Guerin supposes. Isobel doesn’t exactly broadcast that their campus’ resident bisexual stoner is also kind of her sister.

“The buses stopped running apparently so I need to borrow her car,” Guerin explains.

Alex barks a laugh, a bright sound that makes the pit of Guerin’s stomach warm in spite of her. “Good luck with that.”

Guerin smiles good naturedly, but doesn’t head back to the door just yet. As cold as it is, she’d rather see if she can make Alex laugh again.

“I’m Guerin, by the way,” she introduces herself as she sits down in one of the rocking chairs next to her.

“Alex,” she says unnecessarily. “And I know who you are,” she continues, the corner of her mouth pulling up into a smile. “You work at Bean Me Up, right?”

“I do,” Guerin says, face brightening. They smile at each other for a moment, neither one really sure where to pick up the thread of conversation before Guerin asks, “So, what are you doing out here by yourself?”

“Oh, uh, wine mixers aren’t really my thing,” Alex answers, gesturing over her shoulder to the party inside.

“A sorority girl who doesn’t want to party?” Guerin asks, equal parts amused and confused. “I think you maybe joined the wrong crowd.”

“Tell me something I don’t know,” Alex sighs.

That brings Guerin up short. Sure, she’d been surprised to hear that Alex was in Isobel’s sorority—her emo aesthetic doesn’t exactly match the sorority girl stereotype that lives in Guerin’s brain—but she figured she at least enjoyed being a part of it.

“Do you really not like it here?” she asks.

Alex shrugs noncommittally. 

Guerin frowns. “Why not leave then?”

Alex is quiet so long Guerin wonders if she’s crossed a line, but eventually she gets an answer.

“My mom’s a legacy and kind of an asshole, so,” she says, as if that explains everything, and then adds, “If joining Greek Life is what it takes for her to keep paying my tuition, I guess this is where I’ll be.”

That is something Guerin can understand. If her scholarship relied on participation in Greek Life, she sure as hell would’ve pledged too. 

“Mm, gotcha,” she says with an understanding nod. “That sucks, though. I mean, we’re in college, right? Isn’t now the time we’re supposed to spend doing whatever we want?”

Alex raises her glass—a pink solo cup that’s been resting on the small table next to her—in agreement.

Silence stretches between them for a long few seconds. She should probably head inside to find Isobel now, but Alex is beautiful and talking to her and she just can’t quite bring herself to walk away.

“So, are you working on a new song?” she asks eventually, looking down at the notebook in Alex’s lap.

“Trying to,” Alex admits, her cheeks flushing just a little. 

“What’s it about?”

Alex bites her lip for a second before she answers.

They talk about the song, and music in general, for so long that Guerin forgets about Isobel entirely. It isn’t until Alex brings her up that she remembers.

“Oh, shit, don’t you need to find Isobel?” Alex asks, breaking off in the middle of her story about the My Chemical Romance concert she went to when she was thirteen.

“It can wait,” Guerin shrugs.

“In that case, you want a drink or something?” she offers, looking over her shoulder and through the window into the house.

Guerin thinks about it before she answers, “Wine mixers aren’t really my thing either, but I wouldn’t say no if you’ve got something stronger.”

Alex gives her a considering look before she says, “Alright then,” getting up from her chair. “Follow me.”

As she heads for the front door, Guerin follows close behind.

She’s a little surprised to be led straight up the stairs to Alex’s bedroom, but she isn’t about to complain about it.

“You can take your jacket off and sit on my bed if you want,” Alex says as she lets her inside. 

Guerin unzips her jacket and lays it over the back of the chair by Alex’s desk before she kicks off her boots and climbs onto her bed. She sits with her back against the wall, legs crossed at the ankles as she watches Alex rifle through the top drawer of her nightstand. 

She comes back a minute later holding a clear plastic baggie with a rolled joint and a shitty bic lighter inside. She tosses it on the bed beside Guerin’s thigh.

Guerin has it out of the bag before Alex can get her boots off and climb onto the bed, but she waits until she’s sitting next to her, too close to be an accident, to light it.  

 With one end between Alex’s lips, Guerin lights the other. She watches Alex take a long drag off the joint, watches the smoke curl around her mouth as she exhales. Her lips look so soft and pink and—Jesus fucking Christ, Guerin has never wanted to kiss someone so badly in her life.

It must show on her face because after a calculating look Alex takes another drag and holds the smoke in her lungs as she leans in close enough to kiss her. Guerin gets the picture and follows suit, her eyes slipping closed, lips parted and waiting. 

She inhales as Alex gently blows the smoke into her open mouth, their lips touching for a brief and charged moment. She holds it in her lungs for a minute before releasing it into the air between them. When her eyes flutter open, she’s as pleased as she is unsurprised to see Alex staring blatantly at her mouth. 

Without letting her eyes drift, Guerin takes the joint from Alex’s fingers and brings it to her mouth, sucking the smoke into her lungs once more. When she leans in to return the favor, she can’t resist flicking out her tongue to taste her bottom lip.

Alex moans softly against her mouth, the sweetest sound she’s ever heard, and the next thing she knows Alex is climbing in her lap.

Guerin lets out a shuddering breath against her mouth, the warmth of Alex’s thighs around her waist as intoxicating as the smoke burning her lungs and the lust rushing through her veins. It’s by a stroke of luck more than anything else that she doesn’t drop the joint onto Alex’s comforter and set her fucking bed on fire in her haste to get her hands on her hips.

Gentle fingers reach for Guerin’s hand then, taking the joint back from between her fingers. 

“What are you doing?” Guerin asks against her lips as Alex settles her weight on top of her. 

She feels it when Alex smiles against her mouth.

“Whatever I want,” she answers cheekily.

“Fair enough,” Guerin smiles back, and as she leans in to press their lips together for real this time, she can’t help but think that maybe leaving her truck at home wasn’t the worst idea she’s ever had after all.

[ashbrea381writings]

Red-Eye to Destiny

Luka wiped the sweat from his face as he walked off stage, laughing with Jagged from the pent-up energy that concerts always gave both of them. Spotting Marinette, he made a beeline for his soulmate, pressing his forehead to hers, sharing his love and happiness with her as he took a few deep breaths to center himself after the adrenalin rush of being on stage. Feeling the love she returned he hummed, a mischievous grin taking over his face as he pictured a slightly more compromising position for later that night. Instead of blushing and getting flustered like he’d expected, Mari responded with a more graphic image of a similar, if reversed nature.

“Melody!” Luka gasped, pulling away and blushing furiously as he glanced around to check if anyone was looking. Jagged, of course, had been on his way over and caught Luka’s gasp, grinning.

“Serves you right.” Marinette giggled. “Besides, you should know by now that despite my previous bashfulness before our bond developed, I’m no shrieking violet.”

Jagged started laughing as he heard Mari’s answer. “That’s my rock-and-roll Niece! You tell him!”

“You do realize how strange it is to hear you calling my soulmate your Niece, right?” Luka asked dryly, slowly recovering from his blush. “I know I didn’t grow up with you, but still.”

“Don’t be a baby, Rockstar.” Mari gasped, finally getting over her fit of giggles. “We have a plane to catch anyway, let’s get going.”

***

Damian was dead on his feet, he’d just finished a mission that had unfortunately resulted in the Batplane crashing and this Business class seat was the last one available for his trip back to Gotham. It was also a red-eye and that meant that by the time he finally boarded the plane, he was half asleep and almost as soon as they took off, he was just out like a light, not doing more than glance at the tall young man in the middle seat.

***

“Mari.” Luka whispered, his voice strained. “I have to pee.” The handsome young man on his other side had fallen asleep immediately after takeoff, and shortly thereafter, had ended up leaning against Luka’s shoulder.

Mari giggled quietly, “Then wake him up and go?” She could feel how flustered Luka was, but figured it shouldn’t be too hard.

Luka sighed and gently began to push the young man upright in his seat, only to have him turn and latch onto his arm in his sleep. Gently trying to disengage his arm, Luka started rambling in his head, ‘I don’t want to wake you up. You sat next to me on the airplane and fell asleep on my shoulder and I don’t want to move you because you look comfortable and you’re hot, but I really need to get up.’

Mari had to stifle more giggles, hearing this internal monologue until they both heard a rather shocking response.

‘Then shut up and let me sleep.’ It was little more than a grumble, but it was clearly not said out loud and it was accompanied by the young man who had been clinging to Luka’s arm pulling away and crossing his arms, a frown marring his sleeping face.

Mari and Luka shared a shocked look, surprise and excitement flashing through their bond and causing the frown to ease into a small, satisfied smirk as the slight bond he now had with Luka also registered the excitement and happiness the two had at finding their third.

“Go, go to the bathroom and we can talk about it when you get back. With the excitement, he might start waking on his own.” Mari insisted, trying not to be too excited since he’d really seemed tired.

***

Damian woke to quiet whispers and strange, swirling emotions that weren’t his. A warm hand shook his shoulder lightly, causing the emotions to intensify. “The plane will be landing shortly.” A light, male voice told him. The slight accent was difficult to place in his still-exhausted state. “You might want to wake up enough to get your things together.”

“All I have is my pack in the overhead bin, and stop touching me.” Damian grunted, rubbing his face. “But thank you for waking me.” He added gently when he felt a slight faltering in how positive the emotions coming from the person beside him. That the feelings of happiness and excitement were coming from this man beside him was something he was certain of, given the change in how much nervousness became clear when he was so rude.

“I… uhh…” There was a giggle from further past the man, and a giddiness bloomed alongside an increase in nervousness. “Mari! Don’t laugh.” The man groaned, and Damian felt movement in the next seat over.

A glance showed a man who seemed to be rather tall, despite how he was slumped into his seat with his hands over his face, ears bright crimson. Past him was a young woman with blue-black hair, her light blue eyes sparkling with mirth as she laughed. “You weren’t so reluctant to be touched when you were asleep.” She commented, prompting another groan from the man between them.

“I beg your pardon?” He asked, stiffening a bit as he watched the girl scroll through her phone. He looked more closely at the man next to him, noting his dyed-blue hair that was showing dark roots that looked somewhere between charcoal black and a different shade of blue-black like the girl.

“Take a look.” She held out her phone, scrolling through a few photos of himself clinging to the man next to him in his sleep.

“My apologies, I must have been very deeply asleep. I did not mean to make you uncomfortable.” Damian found it was his turn to blush as he saw that he had evidently spent most of the flight not only asleep on his neighbor’s shoulder, but clutching the other man’s arm.

“Umm. It wasn’t… The only time I got too uncomfortable was when I had to get up to go to the bathroom an hour after you fell asleep. Other than that, I didn’t mind that much.” The man muttered from behind his hands, his blush growing even deeper.

“Luka, breathe please.” The girl instructed dryly. “I’m Marinette, the tomato is Luka, it’s nice to meet you.” She introduced them cheerfully. “He’s usually a wreck with guys more than girls, you’ll get used to it.”

“Mari!” Luka gasped, removing his hands, his cerulean eyes wide and staring at Marinette, who giggled further. “Don’t make assumptions.”

“I seem to be missing something.” Damian frowned, trying to push back the swirling emotions that were emanating from the two. “What do you mean I’ll get used to it?” He checked his watch and saw that they were still about 45 minutes left of the flight. “I am glad you were not too uncomfortable, but why are you so excited?” He directed the question at Marinette, who tilted her head in return.

“Did you not notice? When Luka got up earlier?” Her voice was amused, but her eyes were not laughing at him, simply observing.

“I was not fully awake, but I believe he was saying something about not wanting to move me, but needing to get up.” Damian’s frown deepened as he struggled to remember his half-asleep response. “I am sorry again, I was rather rude to you, wasn’t I?” He remembered telling the person disturbing him to shut up and crossing his arms, but that was about it.

“You were a little, but I was waking you up.” Luka chuckled a bit, rubbing the back of his neck. “You also didn’t speak out loud.” At this, Damian narrowed his eyes at the two of them.

“Of course I spoke out loud, how else would you know I had been rude about you waking me?”

‘The same way you hear me now.’ Luka’s voice sounded, not in his ears, but in his head as the man didn’t move his mouth when speaking. ‘And we both heard it.’

“We knew there was going to be a third, we got… Little flashes now and then. I might ask about those later. But it was still rather surprising to find you on a plane of all places.” Marinetts smiled gently, all traces of humor replaced with warmth and general happiness.

“Is that why…” Damian trailed off, trying to focus on the strange emotions that were still swirling around in his head to make sense of them. “I don’t understand.”

“Maybe we can start with your name?” Marinette asked gently, and some of the swirling emotions became dampened, more subtle and easier to sort through.

“Damian.” He answered, shaking his head slightly. “You did something just now. It changed. What was that?”

“I chose to send less through the bond.” Marinette responded with a shrug, “We’re from Paris, we got very used to suppressing emotions, even if it isn’t healthy.”

When this was said, the rest of the swirling emotions that had been distracting Damian settled down, and Luka took a deep breath. “Sorry, we haven’t had to do that in a while.” The slightest whisper of embarrassment came through the bond before that too was suppressed, although the blush on Luka’s cheeks showed it was probably from him.

“So I am feeling emotions from the two of you?” Damian asked quietly, clarifying what they seemed to be implying.

“Yes, that’s how a soulmate bond works.” Marinette sounded confused, though the emotions through bond didn’t reflect it very much.

“I have not been told much about them.” Damian didn’t finish the sentence, but thought. ‘Grandfather would not approve, he must not find out.’

“Damian, we can hear it when you think so loudly.” Luka gently informed him. “Until you are able to get a little bit of practice with the bond we’ll hear something like that. If it’s a conscious thought that you would hear as words in your own head? We’ll hear it too if we’re close enough.” He was obviously concerned over what specifically had been thought about, but the look on his face said he wasn’t going to pry.

“I was not aware. Most of my family think rather poorly of the idea of soulmates. They often shun those who do fine theirs. While I no longer live with them, however, they do interrupt my life now and then to be bothersome.” He explained carefully. “My Grandfather is the ‘Head’ of the family.” Damian gave a wry smile and shook his head. “I can explain further once we get to know each other better, I suppose.” He realized as he said this that he actually did want to spend time with them. It must be a side-effect of the bond.

“I’m sorry your family makes it hard.” Marinette was eyeing him in a way that said she was going to bring it up again later. “But it sounds like you’re in a better position now.” Her change in mood and suddenly sunny smile threw him off slightly.

“Yes, I’ve been living with my father for almost 9 years now. While he and the others are nosey about any signs of a soulmate bond, they do so because they want to find out who I might end up with.” He wrinkled his nose, both annoyed and quietly warmed by the fact that they cared. “Perhaps we can exchange phone numbers? I know you said you were from Paris, so I am not sure how long you will be in Gotham.”

“We grew up in Paris, but we aren’t as… Settled now, we travel a lot and we’re taking a bit of a rest in Gotham.” Luka seemed circumspect, and Damian studied them closely. There was something they were hiding, but from the admittedly muted emotions he was feeling, it wasn’t likely to be something sinister. “Gotham has been an on and off home base for us, since my father has a home there and we’re usually traveling with him.” Luka added. “He was planning on spending some time in Paris though, and we wanted to just crash in our own bed instead of at the Grand Paris Hotel where he usually stays when in Paris.”

“I’ve stayed at the Grand Paris, it’s rather nice.” Damian raised an eyebrow. He focused, this time intentionally sharing his thoughts. ‘I know I do not know much about this, but I would like to try.’

There was a jolt of excitement from both sides of the bond and it gave Damian a warm feeling in his chest. They just quietly sat like that for the last little bit of the flight, collecting their respective carry-ons as they stood. “We have a couple bags at the baggage claim if you want to walk with us?” Marinette asked as they departed the plane.

As Damian had predicted, Luka was tall and slender with a quiet grace he hadn’t expected given his ‘rocker’ look. Marinette was short and petite, but she moved with confidence and from the flash of her abs he’d gotten when she reached for her bag, more muscular than her clothing had shown. This was further proven to be true of both his soulmates as they hefted ridiculously large suitcases off the belt and didn’t think to put them down and use the wheels until they shared a look and a glance in his direction.

He simply let them feel how pleasantly surprised he was, and kept walking towards the exit. “If you want, I can input my number into one of your phones and you can each text me later to give me your phone numbers.”

“That works for me.” Luka pulled his phone out and handed it to Damian, smiling quietly. Both of the Parisians seemed to be humming with happiness to Damian.

With Damian’s number swiftly entered into Lukas phone, they promised to text him when they got home. As they were discussing possible plans to meet up, Alfred pulled up to the sidewalk at the airport entrance. “Hello Pennyworth, these are Marinette and Luka, we met on the plane.” Damian informed him, stepping forward and placing his pack in the backseat before turning back to them. “We will have to speak later to finish coordinating, I had planned to be here yesterday, but my original flight was no longer available.”

Marinette and Luka were obviously curious at the way he had worded himself, but didn’t ask out loud or silently. “We’ll text you when we get home, I think Dad had someone park in the short-term parking for us, so when we’re home and possibly after a nap we’ll text you.” Luka’s eyes held a bit of a joke about Damian’s nap on the plane.

“Then we will speak soon.” Damian fought back a blush at Luka’s tease and turned to get in.

“Good to meet you.” Alfred said with a small bow, closing Damian’s door behind him and going around to the driver’s side. “Is it safe to assume that I will be seeing more of the two of you?”

“Probably.” Marinette answered with a giggle.

“Then you may call me Alfred, I hope to get to know you soon.” Alfred’s expression didn’t change, but his voice was warm and sounded just slightly amused.

The Parisians felt rather than heard Damian’s groan at Alfred’s tone and they both smirked, letting him know silently that he had nothing to be embarrassed about. “Likewise.” Marinette answered with a grin.

[thoughts-on-bangtan]

Do you think BigHit pays attention to how much things to show to be able to "please" each ship, esp the maknae ships? For example, If a run ep/any content showed a little bit more of vmin, it will somehow highlight jikook or taekook next. For sure, the boys are not faking their interactions, but do u think BigHit consciously monitor these interactions and edit it in a way that can avoid violent reactions from diff ship groups? Sorry I cannot word this ask well. 😕 I'd love to hear ur thoughts.

Thank you so much for the amazing question! And your wording was really good and clear so don’t worry about that.

I think the first major thing we need to remember is that BH is a company, and a company’s main purpose, above all else, is to generate revenue. Which isn’t a bad thing in this case seeing as, depending on how much BH makes, so do the members since their contracts, compared to others in the same industry, have some great percentages in their favor.

With that in mind, the answer to your question is a very simple and straight forward yes. BH monitors and plans things accordingly to please (paying) costumers, in the context of this answer, shippers. Fan service and showing certain interactions in certain ways are a great marketing tool that every idol agency uses for decades now, it isn’t anything new or revolutionary in any shape or form, though it’s clear that the type of fan service the BTS members do nowadays has changed in comparison to earlier years, like Jimin being required to perform shirtless at an award show.

In the context of this answer when using “ship”, I simply mean two members interacting with each other and are liked together by a certain community of people, and not actual pairs that have (in my opinion) chances or signs of being real (in a romantic sense) at all, except for vmin and namjin, since those are the only two we see as fulfilling that criteria of romantic potential and are the only two we focus on on this account. But that at large is a post/discussion for another time.

When it comes to showing different interactions between ships, or even really any kind of duo or trio in the group, editing and what does and doesn’t get shown certainly plays a role and follows some kind of idea as well. A good example of that would be how following the release of Dynamite there was a bigger “focus” on J*k*ok, seeing as they had their own moment together in the choreography and we were shown more of their interactions/”moments” in content around that time. But, while that satisfied one major ship and its devotees, it didn’t satisfy another, so it needed to be balanced out. Which is exactly what BH did.

More below the cut since this got a little long:

If you look at the Break the Silence: Persona movie commentary done by the members, the maknaes sit together in the middle of the sofa (and the screen) with JK between vmin, meaning that both major ships could pay attention to their two members and be “pleased” at the same time by any and all interactions or “moments”. A counter argument to moments involving all three of them working in a positive manner would be the Dynamite performance at Jimmy Fallon (x) that ended with the members skating around on roller-skates where at one point the maknaes were together, JK holding Tae’s wrist while Jimin had his hands on Tae’s hips (?). It was a cute and funny moment of them just helping Tae since he can’t skate, but it caused a plethora of negative/awful reactions among those who ship one and the other “main” maknae ship with, in both cases, either Jimin or Tae being on the receiving end of awful accusations, insults, and alike. Then again, to balance out J*k*ok Dynamite content, we can look at the BE-hind Story video where JK and Tae sat together and were seen interacting more, while Jimin interacted more with Yoongi, where Yo*nm*n is also a rather popular ship.

Perhaps it sounds mean or calculated or like I’m badmouthing other ships as just “tools”, but the thing we have to keep in mind is that every piece of content is planned in a certain manner (BTS are seven people after all so you can’t just tell them to do something and hope it’ll just magically work out somehow), is filmed by a giant crew of staff from stylists to PDs and lighting crews, and while there are certainly also genuine interactions between the members, simply because they enjoy spending together and interacting, being close and have no issue touching each other etc, many of these things are not really anything that would really count as “intimate” moments due to the nature of the content itself. But shippers oftentimes ignore that in favor of enjoying whatever content of their ship they are given, which makes sense, as vminnies and namjinists we do too, but we also know that BH certainly has a hand in what is and isn’t shown, and the way in which it is shown.

Look at the trailer for Memories of 2019 and the famous J*k*ok moment that was front and center. From a marketing standpoint it was a genius move since it made sure that shippers would go and buy the DVD regardless of its price. Look at what we’ve gotten for Winter Package 2021 so far, J*k*ok being playful in the trailer, T*ek*ok squished together in the picture on IG, and J*k*ok next to each other, along with Seokjin, in the preview pictures on Weverse. Of course, there was also a picture of Yoongi and Hoseok together (a popular ship) as well as Namjoon with Yoongi and Namjoon with Tae (far less popular), but those three aren’t really selling arguments the way the major maknae ships are. Even vmin isn’t, seeing as the vmin community is much, much smaller than the other two maknae ships, and also vmin moments are often times written off as ‘friends’ interacting anyway and thus not taken seriously (or being paid attention to), if you know what I mean.

(Admin 1: I, for one, would really love to own the 5th Muster DVD because I love the concert itself but also because the famous vmin dancing together to Spring Day sequence is immortalized in picture form in the photobook, so I’m not innocent or “different” in any way since I fall for this marketing stuff just as much as everyone else.)

But on the other hand, there’s also content that isn’t as controlled by BH as pre-recorded and edited videos or DVD’s, as in their vlives or live content, like the BE/LGO release day vlive in pajamas where, sure, the members were given a general plan of what they’ll be doing and a timeframe for it, but certain things seemed more spur-of-the-moment and unplanned, like the vmin lipstick moment (Tae putting on the lipstick was planned, but the final executions likely wasn’t) and the way the other members reacted to it. Or things they do at concerts, which some of it is surely also rehearsed and planned, we saw Hoseok ask JK if he’d do a heart with him at some point during one of the concerts, as example, or Tae and Seokjin planning their typical moment that happened at every concert, but other ones are more in the moment and not controlled.

When it comes to concert DVDs, that is again a different story seeing as a camera can only show as much at a time, so the editors are presented all the footage from the concert and then decide which to show and which not. So, if we see an interaction between JK and Hoseok, for example, at the same time somewhere else Namjoon might be dancing with Seokjin or vmin could be doing something, but we’d simply never know since they can’t show us everything.

That, in a way, is also the case with actual concerts where there’s a difference, somewhat, between concerts that get filmed for DVDs or streamed online, and those that are not. Something that comes to mind would be a vmin moment during Best of Me in Busan on the day that didn’t get filmed where they skipped the first half of the choreography and vmin stood together, half of that sequence being just visible in the background while JK is the primary focus of the cameras that are shown on the side screens, and this whole thing only happened this one time and never again. (x) That’s a moment that, in my opinion, isn’t planned, or other similar moments where vmin change the choreographies (even if just a little) to do something together, like during Spring Day during WINGS Tour Final where Jimin adjusted his solo moment so that he ended up in front of Tae. (x)

There’s also this whole mythos I’ve heard/read about a lot about how supposedly at some of the not filmed Japanese concerts (where I’m not sure if people mean LY:SY or just LY) had some crazy moments between the members (in the sense of “ship” moments and alike) BUT I couldn’t find any proof of that, so if someone perhaps knows anything about this, let me know.

Finally, there’s also things like Bon Voyage and In the SOOP which, you’d expect that they would be less edited and less controlled, but even here a selection takes place of which scenes are shown and which are not. Something I find interesting is how the first half of In the SOOP feels very different to how the second half does when they return to the house after being gone for a few days. In the first half vmin (as well as namjin) seemed to “satellite” around each other and interact much more, playing ping pong or doing things together in some shape or form, but in the second half that was (nearly) completely gone and neither interacted much with each other, if at all. We even had Jimin who outright refused to join Tae and Hoseok on their car adventure, or we saw Seokjin wake up Namjoon to go jogging yet never got to see said jogging happening (if it did happen, that is).

So, to sum all of this up: Yes, BH definitely monitors and guides the way certain things are and aren’t shown in order to achieve certain things or avoid certain reactions, though it’s a complex balancing act and doesn’t always work out. There are things that are unplanned and not controlled, of course, but there’s also a fair amount of marketing play involved. 

After all BTS aren’t rookies anymore, instead they are giant household names and their actions and words move people, move money, and on top of that they are still idols, and part of what it means to be an idol is differentiating between your idol appearance/persona (so what we see in screen) and your personal private life, which is usually kept as secret as only possible. How much they themselves choose to share of their real selves and real feelings toward each other is up to them (as well as up to BH and how much they “allow” them to/don’t edit out). But that, too, is a whole other discussion for another time.

[clarz-cc-archive]

answered April 29, 2020

Q: Hi, this is a different Anon from the one who mentioned JK being teased by his hyungs in the BB video (where they are trying to get his attention so Jin can take a picture of him). I distinctly remember Yoongi telling the others to stop teasing JK. Not sternly, just kinda like "eh, let him be/give him a break." Obviously, they didn't pay him any mind and Yoongi ended up shrugging it off. I wouldn't have remembered that moment until last Friday during BangBangCon when Yoongi was doing his verse for "2nd Grade" (during the HYYH concert) and JK danced around him while sporting the biggest heart-eyes ever. This is my long-winded way of asking if you have any thoughts on YoonKook? I hadn't paid much attention to them before--tho I definitely will now. :)

A: i think yoongi and jk have this kind of quietness abt their relationship sometimes that is very appealing to me! we don't necessarily see them interact the most on camera, or in the loudest ways, but then they'll say little things in this very offhand way that make it clear just how close they actually are, like how jk is the only one with the code to yoongi's studio, or how they always go out to eat together in the middle of the night, or during the festa dinner when taehyung was talking about how yoongi sent him this rly long text telling him he loved him and how it made tae cry for like 10 minutes, and tae mentioned how he sent it to one other member and jk, who'd just been sitting there quietly stuffing his face with food for the last like 5 minutes while everyone discussed this, just casually raised his hand like "oh yeah that was me, he sent it to me!" like!!!! jk would absolutely have let the conversation move on without acknowledging that he, too, got a long emotional supportive text from yoongi! and that's honestly such unusual behavior from jk, he seems to get very proud and a little competitive whenever any of his hyungs show him special treatment, but he doesn't get like that with yoongi, he seems to just quietly accept it and keep it to himself, and i think that speaks to this kind of privacy and intimacy that is very intriguing and special! of course, i'm saying all of this, but there's also jk posting a picture on yoongi's birthday pointing to his own ring finger and asking him to marry him, or there's the way jk constantly plays with yoongi's hair and bothers him bc he knows he can get away with it, or the way jk shouted across the room that he wanted yoongi to be his girlfriend when he wore that maid outfit, or the way he decided to GIVE YOONJI HIS SHOES, or the like minute and a half long extremely intricately edited video he posted for yoongi's birthday making fun of him where he told him "i want you" and asked him to "treat me to some meat" so like CLEARLY they're not always quiet about it lmao!!! but it's the quiet parts or the little acknowledgments of private stuff that we don't see that makes me feel like they're very close in a way that is really sweet

[westerberg]

tagged by @officialglenntilbrook 😘💞💖❤️🥂

1. what is the first song you remember hearing? Oh man uhh... i remember my my dad playing the video for... oops i did it again I think? by britney spears and i was very obsessed with it. if i saw the video I would know but i don’t feel like doing that. hard to say if that is my earliest memory of music tho. i remember listening to the R.E.M. In Time greatest hits in the car late at night and feeling weird out of body as Man on the Moon came on. i like that story better but I have no idea when that memory is from. i also feel like i heard my mom singing along with Sarah McLaughlin or Norah Jones a lot when i was very young.

2. what is the first band you got into? hmm... i  really loved Bon Jovi when I was very young but i didn’t like. have any knowledge of them or their discography I just liked slippery when wet and their greatest hits. and also thats embarrassing so i am trying to think of an out... probably the first real musical obsession i had was lana del rey when I was 14 /15 but thats also not great. just take the L buddy... i didnt actually get into music i would now consider very good until about 16.

3. do you collect any physical music? during quar i started trolling ebay and other similar sites for cheap cds and I have gotten a pretty good collection! you would be shocked the number of people who just really do not want to have their R.E.M. albums anymore. I have a few vinyls- a couple of cheap Joni records, Station to Station, the mats Dead Mans Pop boxset thing, and the R.E.M. single So. Central Rain. Oh and I have a very cool cd single of beastie boys body movin’. I also have a collection of cassettes that used to belong to my mom- she passed 5 yrs ago so they are very special to me! she had some R.E.M., U2, Eurythmics, Squeeze, Crowded House, Indigo Girls, and I recently dug up a bootlegged Tracy Chapman tape! she might have some more at her childhood home and if I find a tape of murmur i’ll like blackout. the sad thing is that now I really like all these musicians my mom apparently liked but i was not into them when she was alive so :/ figuring things out feels like archeology. was listening to In Time greatest hits the other day and was like she definitely skipped E-Bow the Letter every time it came on lol bc i did not hear this song until like last year.

4. what is your favourite piece of music memorabilia? do you know that picture of R.E.M. where they are all holding roses like they are all going to the prom together? i scored a poster of that off Ebay for the incredible deal of $50!! a deal at any price :) I don’t have much that is like legit valuable lol. But here you have to see the picture

5. what's your favourite concert you've ever been to? hmm i havent really been to any truly mindblowing concerts I don’t think. I got to see Tommy Stinson play an acoustic set at 7th street entry in 2019 which was very cool. I feel crazy saying thats my favorite but it was incredibly special.

6. if you could see one artist who is no longer alive in concert, who would it be? If you ask right now I would probably have to say Replacements with Bob Stinson. Prince would be a close one

7. have you met any musicians? almost! when i went to see tommy stinson, afterwards he was hanging in a bar next to the club and was taking selfies with people. i kept thinking about getting in line and eventually i decided to just do it. when i finally went to go look for him he was deep in a conversation with someone and I also realized i had nothing intelligent to say, so i sat and stared at him talking for a bit until i left and went back to the show.

8. what is your go to album when you're feeling sad? Tim by the mats! i think i maybe listened to this album every day my senior year of high school. it is legitimately strange how I feel as if this album just knows me very well. everyone says this about the mats but every song feels like it’s about me and my life. I think a perk of being a lower middle class Minnesotan with an alcoholic father is just really really getting the replacements. but i guess it depends on the kind of sad I am. If i’m just looking to be cheered up i might go with Lifes Rich Pageant or Green by R.E.M. because invariably by the end of Tim I will be bummed out !

9. what is your go to album when you're feeling happy? somehow this is a very hard question. Radio City by Big Star was a big one for me when i was still on campus. maybe an obvious one but rubber soul is a good being happy album

10. what is one music documentary you love? the doc Every Everything about Grant Hart from Hüsker Dü is a favorite. it’s just all interview with him and he’s a fascinating guy. I’ve never watched an interview with him where i wasn’t like woah u’re smart :0... the director of that also did a good replacements doc but at certain point with mats journalism im just like well i could’ve just read trouble boys.

11. what is one concert DVD you love? I think I only own one concert DVD, Prince’s Lovesexy show which i was very obsessed with back in high school.

12. do you prefer listening to playlists or albums? i prefer albums usually, sometimes i’m in the mood for a playlist but albums are def superior

13. do you prefer to listen to albums in order or on shuffle? in order !!!! What am i a psychopath

14. what is your favourite deep cut song by your favourite artist? Portland by the mats is a top ten song of theirs. very in character for it to be a b-side i’m not even mad

15. what is your favourite cd/cassette/vinyl you own in terms of packaging? I love the inner sleeve of my Grandpaboy cd which is just Paul Westerberg’s doodles and scribblings. sometimes when i buy stuff off of ebay it comes with notes and stuff too which is my favorite. my copy of suicaine gratifaction came with a very sweet note of how much the previous owner loved it. and my copy of mbv’s loveless has this very hard to read note which i can maybe make out half of. if you can read it please translate for me.

i love being tagged but if you do not want to answer 15 long questions do not feel pressured! i shall tag @the-replacemints @pattismithgender @myfcukingrat @willemdafoeplscallmemynumberis @little-rimbaud @milesofsmiles97 @electrofolk 🤙😜💘

[aro-of-artemis]

It's what you do with the things you love!

3 times the boys give Julie kisses and 1 time they have a cuddle pile.

AKA an excessive number of hugs, kisses and I love yous because they're all touch starved and they deserve it.

ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29331480

{1} Alex

 Somewhere in the back of her mind, Julie knows she's dreaming. But that knowledge doesn't make her feel any better. She can feel the staccato thrum in her chest even as she sleeps, her lungs filling and deflating too quickly, making her feel hollowed out like a wind tunnel. Dreams, some nonsensical, others entirely too real, blur and warp in her head. She sees her mother's casket being covered in dirt, hears the pulsing, beeping heartbeat seemingly echoing from the very walls of a hospital. She sees the boys, her boys, laying in a haphazard pile, tear stained and rumpled and slowly disintegrating, turning to bone and then ash and then dust, blown away by a source-less wind. She sees-

 "Julie."

 Her frantic twisting and turning in bed is disturbed by a voice laced with concern. She can still feel her heartbeat in her ears. The rise and fall of her chest does not slow down but she is mercifully rescued from her dreams. She begins to cry. Big, loud sobs that judder and heave like a ship on a stormy sea.

 "Hey, hey, hey," the voice says, gently. She turns her face to see Alex crouched by the side of her bed, resting his hands on the edge like he wants to reach out and touch her but he's not sure if he's allowed. He turns one palm up in silent question. Julie nods desperately, sobs never ceasing.

 Alex moves slowly, sliding in next to Julie, half sitting up. He wraps his arm around her shoulders and she gratefully buries her face in his chest, body still shuddering. His other arm comes around to encircle her completely. He doesn't say much - there's not much he can say that would actually help - so he just holds her to his chest and runs his hands over her hair and down her back in long, soothing strokes.

 He slides down a bit more so that her head is fitted under his chin, her damp breaths against the collar of his hoodie. The tears have quietened a bit, beat out by sheer exhaustion. When she speaks, her voice is raw.

 "Thank you, Alex."

 "Of course, Jules. I love you."

 "Love you, too," she murmurs into his chest.

 He tucks his chin, pressing a soft kiss against the crown of her head, her curls tickling at his nose. She lets out a deep sigh, her tense muscles relaxing in small increments.

 "Will you stay with me?" Her voice is small, uncertain.

 "As long as you need."

Her breathing grows deep and slow, a slight rasp around the edges that approaches a snore. Alex lets his eyes pull shut and slips off into sleep.

 ~~~

 Sometimes Ray wakes in the middle of the night, filled with a sudden dread and the urgent need to check on his kids. Tonight, he has a distinct sense that something is wrong with Julie.

 Quietly, he swings his legs out of bed and makes his way down the hall, feet scuffing against the floor in a hushed whisper. Her door stands slightly ajar and he nudges it further open, eyes searching out his daughter.

 He is momentarily startled to see not one but two bodies in her bed but the sun rises in his chest at the sight before him, dispelling the menacing shadows of night. A pink-clad torso curls protectively around Julie, shielding her from any and all threats within and without. Alex's soft gold hair falls in every which direction and his normally anxious face is eased with sleep. Ray smiles and pulls the door shut.

  {2} Reggie

 Julie's noticed something. Reggie always wears the same clothes. It's always some combination of his black skinny jeans, a tank top, his leather jacket and his flannel. Luke and Alex seem to mix it up more, so it's not a ghost thing. Maybe he's just committed to the aesthetic, Julie thinks, but she's not so sure. It nags at the back of her mind for days.

 She brings it up to Luke. He looks at her with his big, sad puppy dog eyes. "Yeah, I guess he does. His parents weren't - they didn't really…" Care. He trails off but Julie fills in the blanks. She feels something in her chest harden in anger and yet also soften with tender affection. The result of some strange oxymoron of love.

 Luke doesn't offer any more information and Julie doesn't press but plans are already forming in her head.

 She has a hushed conversation with her father which ends with a credit card pressed into her hand and the encouragement to "go nuts - within reason". She tells the boys the next day that she's hanging with Flynn and that they should under no circumstances interrupt her. It's not a lie - Flynn's eye for clothes and talent for thrifting is an invaluable part of this mission.

 They spend the next day rifling through thrift stores and shopping centres, collecting flannels and t-shirts and jeans that match Reggie's style. (And perhaps they purchase socks and undies for all of the boys because honestly. And maybe Flynn stumbles upon a band shirt that would be just perfect for Luke and Julie finds a fanny pack that was made for Alex).

 Tote bags full-to-bursting perched on her shoulders, Julie makes her way down the garden path and pushes her way into the studio. She finds the boys lounging on the couch, Luke and Reggie idly plucking at their guitar strings and Alex hanging upside down off it.

 "Julie!" they chorus as she enters.

 A small laugh enters her voice. "What are you guys doing?" It turns into a full-belly laugh as Alex tries to extricate himself from his precarious position and ends up landing on his head.

 Reggie notices the bags on her shoulders. "Whatcha got, Jules?" His enthusiasm is infections.

 "Well…," she says, drawing it out. She sets the bags down on the piano and starts unloading them, making a small pile off to the side for Alex and Luke. Once she's finished, she steps back with a satisfied nod and a flourish. "It's for you, Reg."

 His smile drops. "For me?"

 She nods, biting her lip nervously. Now that she's here, she isn't sure how he'll react. Would he be mad that she'd overstepped? Embarrassed? She watches his face carefully for a reaction. Her heart drops to her shoes when tears start spilling down his cheeks.

 "Oh! Reggie, I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have assumed, I should have asked before I -" She's abruptly cut off when warm arms pull her into his chest and she lets out a soft oof. But she revels in the embrace, letting Reggie hold her as long as he needs.

 When he pulls back a bit, his eyes are red and puffy but he's smiling once more. "Don't apologise, Julie. I - It's just that no one's ever - no one's done this before. Thank you."

 Julie can feel a stinging sensation at the back of her eyes and a boulder forming in her throat but she manages to croak out, "Of course, Reggie. I love you." She tugs on his necklace affectionately.

 Fresh tears spill down his face. He leans forward, ducking his head down to press a gentle kiss into the softness of her cheek and pulls her back into an embrace.

 "Love you, too, Jules."

 ~~~

 "You bought us underwear?"

 "Yes."

 "I dunno how to feel about that, Jules."

A sigh. "Just say thank you and move on."

"Thank you, " is said in a three-part chorus.

 {3} Luke

 Julie lays on her bed, stomach pressed against the soft duvet and heels kicking in the air behind her. But her eyebrows are furrowing in tense concentration and her fingers are tight around her pen. Spread haphazardly before her are various textbooks and notebooks, her laptop open off to one side. An irritated sigh drives its way out of her throat when disorderly curls fall into her face again.

 As if summoned, Luke poofs into her room. She doesn't look up.

 "Hey! Jules. You nearly finished with your school work?"

"No." She says it flat and terse, eyes fixed on the page before her.

 "Oh." His face momentarily creases but he shrugs and makes himself comfortable at the end of her bed, leaning his side up against it. His chin rests just on the edge. "I'll just wait here until you're done then."

 Julie doesn't respond.

 Time passes. An hour perhaps, but Luke's never had the best sense of time. His brain always seems to warp and shift it. He stays admirably quiet, considering, if he does say so himself. He paces around the room, fiddling with knick knacks and keepsakes, admiring (from a distance) pictures of Julie and her mom. He gives the dream box a wide berth (even if his eyes keep being drawn to it. Especially so).

 Eventually, he sits himself back down in his original position, eyes glancing around the room. Absentmindedly, his hand reaches out to tug at a curl that had fallen forward over Julie's face.

 "Would you STOP that?" she snaps.

 His hand jerks back as if scalded. "Julie - what - I - I'm sorry, I didn't mean to - ". His eyes are wide, eyebrows practically disappearing into his hairline.

 Julie's breath leaves her chest all in a rush, as if trying to beat the traffic at the end of a concert. Her face drops into her hands. Luke looks at her in consternation, unsure where he went wrong until he sees her back begin to shake with awful, desperate sounds.

 "Julie - I - are you okay?"

 She doesn't answer but continues to tremble.

 "Julie. Jules. Talk to me. Or - or do you want me to leave. I can go if you want. I didn't -" He begins to rise, backing up.

 He's stopped in his tracks, half crouched, by a garbled sound that he thinks was no.

 "Okay," he says. He sits back down. Thinking. His eyes never leave Julie. "If, if you don't wanna talk about it, would you like a hug instead? I'm told I give pretty good hugs."

The hiccupy almost-sobs are interrupted by a wet chuckle. Her head nods minutely. Luke's not sure he would have noticed except for how close he's watching her.

 His muscles bring him to standing and he opens his arms wide. "C'mere," he says. Just quietly. She swings herself over the side of her bed and just about flings herself at his chest. He wraps his arms around her, as tight as they go, matching her grip, and just holds her for a while, rocking back and forth slowly.

 ~~~

 Luke's hugging her so tight. She feels so safe and so warm. His small shushing sounds cease when he presses his warm, dry lips against her forehead. He keeps them there and strokes her hair gently, careful not to snag any curls. Julie feels her shoulders drop, finally, some of the tension unspooling from her spine. She breathes in, 2, 3, 4 and out, 2, 3, 4 and in and out for a while longer.

 Once her heart has calmed from a jackhammer to the mere ticking of a clock, she pulls back to look at him. His eyes are like an ocean at storm, a wild mess of greygreenblue.

 "Luke, I'm sorry, I - "

 "You don't need to apologise." One of his hands comes up to cup her jaw, dragging a thumb under the corner of her eye where tears still linger. She feels her heart grow a couple of sizes.

 "I want to," she insists, looking down bashfully.  "I'm sorry for snapping at you. I've just been really overwhelmed by my school work and it was feeling like too much. But I, um, I think I just needed a really good cry 'cause I haven't in a while and I - " Her words stumble when she looks back up because there's a bittersweet crinkle around the corners of his eyes and his eyebrows are so earnest that she has to just reach up and touch one, grazing her thumb along it.

 He laughs a little. Just softly.

 "And thank you. For the hug," she says. "You really are excellent at hugs. 10 out of 10. Would hug again"

 His eyes crinkle again but this time with mirth. "Of course, Julie. Anytime. Day or night."

 Her thumb is still on the tail of his eyebrow and the rest of her hand is cupping his cheek. He may be a ghost but she can feel the warmth of his skin against her palm, the rushing of blood beneath the surface, the faint freckles that wander across his nose.

 And his eyes. She could write entire songs about his eyes - whole albums - and still not know what colour they were or how to capture how they shift with his mood like a flag in the wind.

 Her gaze drops to his lips without her permission. As they lift into a tentative smile, her thumb drags over the crease of skin where his smile lines form and tugs at the edge where his mouth curls up, making him smile wider.

 Julie looks back up to his eyes after eons to find him staring back just as intently. His lips part slightly, as if in awe, unsure what to say. Finally, they resolve into the soft sounds of her name.

 "Julie. Can I - ?"

 "Please." Her voice is barely a whisper.

 Slowly, as if encased in glass, he lowers his face to meet hers. Their lips brush, mere millimetres away from each other. The air crackles. And then breaks.

 Julie pushes her lips up to meet his. They're warm (still). And soft. Her whole face, her whole body, is alight, lines of warmth spreading from every place skin meets skin. She presses into him harder and he presses back. The hand still on his face hooks around his ear, bringing him closer. One of his arms curls around the small of her back, pulling her in and his thumb rubs small circles on the sharp of her cheekbone, his calluses catching against her skin. She never wants this to end but she has to breathe, even if he - technically - doesn't.

 She pulls back but doesn't go far, resting her forehead against his. She can practically feel the curlicue of his mouth against hers, his breath tickling her face.

 "You're amazing, Julie." His expression is thunderstruck, disbelieving, electrified.

 "So are you." She is filled with awe at the idea that she gets to have this. Him. Luke Patterson, the boy she. She - she loves.

 Oh.

 Oh.

 "I love you," she says in wonderment. "So much."

 He laughs, incredulous. She feels unstoppable. "So do I. I - I - I love you so much I don't know what to do with it all."

 Julie laughs back. Delirious. Just this side of hysterical. "Me neither. I wrote an entire song in my head because I had nowhere else to put it."

 Luke snorts. "Me too."

 "Yeah?"

 "Yeah."

 Their smiles could blind astronauts all the way in space.

 {+1}

 Julie turns over in her bed again. She tries to resettle her sheets but her feet get tangled up in the knotted blanket. She lets out a deep sigh and can feel irritation clawing its way up her arms and legs, tugging at her nerve endings, making her want to scream. She turns her head to read the time off her phone and another heartfelt sigh is pulled from her chest as she watches the numbers tick over to 1:13 am.

 She lays there a moment longer, staring up at the ceiling like she's a character in The Office looking at the camera. Hoping - praying - that some semblance of sleepiness would overtake her. But no, that would be far too easy. It's just that something's wrong. She can't put her finger on it but she feels as though the air around her is ill-at-ease with the objects in its path and something in her chest twinges uncomfortably.

 She rolls over and tumbles out of bed, half stumbling to her feet, and makes her way downstairs, outside along the garden path and into the studio. The sight that greets her when she enters is … unnerving.

 Reggie lays in the middle of the floor, arms and legs spread wide, just staring fixedly at nothing. Over on the couch, Luke sits, picking a melancholy tune out on his acoustic. On the floor next to Luke's legs, Alex sits with his knees pulled up to his chest, his chin pressed harshly into them and arms wrapped around his calves. He too looks off into the middle distance.

 "Uh. Hey, guys."

 At the sound of her voice, Luke's fingers falter and the other two's eyes seem to snap back into this reality but none of them move.

 "What's…going on?" she says uncertainly. She feels the weight of three sets of eyes on her, burdened by some incurable sadness. Luke has stopped playing but he still holds his guitar in his lap, clutching it to his chest.

 "Nothing," he says like a lying liar who lies. "We're fine. What're you doing up?"

 Julie narrows her eyes at him, looks to Alex, then Reggie. "Don't change the subject." Her eyes soften though. A few steps across the garage and she settles herself down by Reggie who has yet to move except to bring his hands together over his stomach and begin tugging at his fingers. Gently, she lifts his head up and settles it in her lap. He lets her without argument and she begins to comb her fingers through his soft hair.

 "Clearly something's going on. So spill." Her words are direct but her tone is mild.

 Alex's chin lifts from his knees. "We - I, I was just thinking about my, um, my parents?"

 Julie nods encouragingly at him even as she continues to play with Reggie's hair.

 He continues. "I don't know what happened to my parent since I died. I - I don't know if I wanna know what happened to them. They weren't - they didn't, after I came out -"

 Julie just nods reassuringly. She feels so lucky that her dad was understanding when she told him about her sexuality, even if he didn't understand all of the terminology entirely.

 "But my sister. I think I want to know what happened to her. How she's doing."

 "You have a sister?" Julie's not sure why she's so shocked to find this out.

 "Yeah, a younger sister." He smiles a little, crookedly.

 Julie furrows her eyebrows a bit, considering. "We could find her? If you wanted. I'm sure Dad would be happy to help track her down."

"You'd do that?" His blue eyes shine with something like hope.

 "Of course, Alex." She watches him as he scrubs a hand across his mouth and sniffles. She elects not to say anything but just opens one of her arms. He crawls over and slumps into her warm embrace, breathing shakily.

 Reggie speaks now. "I don't think I want to find my parents. It would be - " He shakes his head and a tear rolls down the side of his face and drops noiselessly onto the floor.

 "That's okay, Reggie."

 "Thanks, Julie. I just sometimes wonder - it doesn't matter though." His watery eyes brighten a touch. "You guys are my family, now."

 Julie feels a warm tear leak out the corner of her eye and make its way down her face, hanging off her chin.

 She turns her face to Luke who hasn't spoken since the beginning. He chuckles softly, shaking his head. His face is dry but his eyes are brighter than normal. "You know my story, Julie. And I'm so …," he tips his head back as if searching for the right words, "… grateful to you for giving my parents closure but I still miss them, y'know?"

 Julie does know. "Luke Patterson, you'd better get your butt over here."

 He smirks a little at that, placing his guitar off to the side finally. As he does so, Julie wiggles herself down so that she's lying across the rug, carefully positioning Reggie's head on her stomach. Alex presses his face into her shoulder on the opposite side to Reggie, throwing his arm over her upper torso. She curls her arm protectively around his shoulders, her thumb stroking against the place where it rests. Luke plops himself down beside her and wedges a cushion under her head. She smiles at him gratefully. He positions himself at her other shoulder, cushioning his head on her outstretched arm so that he lies parallel to Reggie. He loops his arm over Reggie, pulling him to his chest.

 As if they'd planned it, they all released a breath simultaneously. A damp giggle erupts from their pile on the floor.

 After a few minutes of just existing together, Julie clears her throat.

 "I love you guys," she says quietly. "You're my family and I'll do anything I can for you. You've already done so much for me. So if you want to see your families, or if you don't, I'll be here to help you. Just say the word."

 "Thank you, Julie," Alex answers for all of them.

 Time passes and she can feel Luke's breath begin to deepen against her neck and the rise and fall of Reggie's stomach slow. Alex burrows further into her shoulder. Her own eyes feel as though they're being pulled down like the shutters of a shop at the end of the day. She lets herself fall into a deep, restful sleep.

 When morning comes, she lays a kiss on each of their cheeks before she makes her way inside. Because, after all, that's what you do with the things you love.

[district2001]

Homesick

Seventeen AU: 14th member

ERA: Henggarae/ Left & Right

Jangmi x SVT 

Recap: Jangmi starts missing home, so Dino & Josh try to cheer her up

Words: 2.3k (I clearly didn’t want to work on my assignment)

AN: Requests are OPEN: Please please please send me what you want to see from Jangmi. I’m also open to feedback :)

CHECK OUT MY MASTERLIST FOR MORE JANGMI CONTENT XX

Jangmi’s Masterlist

“Love you too. Look after yourself.” Jangmi waved into the camera, as her parents faces were replaced with the ‘Call Ended’ screen.

She placed her phone on her bedside table, and sighed, before walking over to the wall next to her bed. They had only moved dorms a few day ago, yet Jangmi had managed to find time in redoing her entire collage of pictures.

The photos were evenly scattered, covering the entire wall. There were photos of her family, her friends, her members and random scenery shots she’d taken during all their trips. 

She pulled the one of the pictures of her family off the wall, and sat back down on her bed.

It was taken during Seventeens first, and only, visit to Australia. Her parents had taken all the members out to lunch, and Mingyu had insisted on taking a picture of just her and her parents.  

She was standing in the middle, right behind her parents seats. She was wearing a frilly strap dress, and her hair was nicely plaited into 2 pigtails, courtesy of her mum. Both her arms were wrapped around their shoulders, and she was grinning from ear to ear.

“What are you looking at?” Jangmi jumped at the sudden noise, and looked up to find her roommate leaning against the door.

She turned the picture around to face him. Dino squinted, before walking into their room, and grabbing the picture out of her hands.

“We need to go back soon. I heard your grandma tell Joshua that he was her favourite member.” Dino chuckled. “Since I’ve improved by English, I’ll definitely steal his place.”

Jangmi grabbed the picture back before sticking it back up on the wall. “Hate to break it to you, but her favourites Seokmin.”

He groaned before lying down on his bed. “How can I compete with that?”

“You can’t.” Jangmi said in a matter-of-fact tone, whilst reaching over to hold another picture; this time the photo iss with all her cousins back in 2015- the last birthday of hers she’d spent back home.

The conversation ended there, with Chan going back on his phone, probably texting his younger siblings.

Jangmi continued staring at the picture, holding the corners tightly in her hand.

“Jangmi-ah!” Why are you crying?”

She looked up in confusion, furrowing her eyebrows. She wasn’t crying.

Only when she touched her cheeks, did she feel the wet tears.

“I- I -don’t know” She stuttered, furiously wiping away her tears. “I’m fine. I’m okay.” Her voice betraying her by cracking at the end of her sentence.

She dropped the picture into her lap and started sobbing into her hands. She didn’t even know why she was crying. She was doing absolutely fine 10 seconds ago.

But the tears were coming out like a waterfall, and she could feel her breathing slowly becoming irregular, making her take deeper breaths to grasp onto some air.

“Hey hey hey.” The bed sunk next to her, as Dino pushed her into his chest. “It’s ok. Everything’s ok.” He’d heard his hyungs use that phrase often, when reassuring the other members- except he had never got a chance to use it. Until now.

His smooth demeaner didn’t help, as Jangmi’s breathing before more ragged and irregular, her body shaking through her muffled sobs.

“I need you to breathe for me” Dino pleaded, his voice raising after seeing the state of mind she was in.

He didn’t know what to do. Usually when she showed signs of panic, the hyung’s took care of her. He just left the room to bring her tea.

“Keep breathing. Take a deep breath.” He instructed, as he quickly ran to get his phone, which he had left on his bed.

He sat back down next to her, and called the group chat, hoping someone would answer.

Immediately when it started ringing, he switched over to the chat function. “Anyone at the dorms?” he texted. Not wanting to scare them. He could handle it.

He looked back up at his twin maknae, who was still struggling to breathe, and forcibly placed her hand on his chest. “Breathe with my heart. Slowly. Breathe in. Breathe out. Breathe in. Breathe out…”

He kept repeating those words, when he got a notification that someone had replied to his text. He quickly unlocked his phone, and let out a small sigh in relief to see Joshua’s message.

“I’m here. What’s up?”

Dino called Joshua and was overjoyed to hear his voice after 2 rings.

“Can you come into my room? Jangmi just started sobbing for absolutely no reason” The words tumbling out of his mouth at an incomprehensible speed.

“On my way.”

Dino was grateful for Josh being the one who was coming over. Josh and Jangmi had a close bond- being the English foreigners of the group.

He turned back to face Jangmi; whose breathing had thankfully gotten a bit more stable.

“You’re doing good. You’re doing good.” He encouraged, rubbing her back.

He heard footsteps from the corridor and gave a weak smile once Shua barged into the room.

“Go make some tea or get her some ice-cream.”

Dino stood up and left the room, to obey his hyungs’ orders, whilst Joshua took her place on the bed.

He cupped Jangmi’s face, forcing her to look into his eyes.

“Are you ok?” Josh asked in English, frantically searching her eyes for some sort of answer.

Jangmi slowly nodded, taking in a deep breath.

“Good good. Breathe with me.” Josh grabbed her warm hands and placed them on his heart. “Follow the beat of my heart.”

Jangmi nodded, her breathing slowly easing during the next few minutes.

Once he was satisfied that her breathing was normal, he opened up the middle draw of her bedside table and pulled out her asthma puffer.

He handed it over to her, and whilst she used it, he pushed the stray hairs stuck to her face.

“What happened?” He whispered gently, when she placed her asthma puffer down on the bed.

Jangmi started playing with her hands on her lap. “I miss home.”

Josh leaned in closer. “What? I couldn’t hear you.”

“I miss home” A small sob left her lips, as she curled back in on herself.

He shifted down on the bed, until his back touched the wall. He grabbed Jangmi’s right hand and placed it on his lap, playing with her fingers.

“We all do.”

“No you don’t. No one does” Jangmi sighed, raising her voice a little. “They all can go home whenever they please, and their schedule lets them. Or their family can come up here to visit. They just need half a day free to visit. I need a freaking week. Do you know how rarely we get a week off?”

“Jun hyung and Minghao hyung are used to flying back and forth between China and here so often before COVID. Do you remember Minghao flying out every weekend? Between promotions. Plus they always talk to each other in Mandarin.”

“I speak to you in English, plus Vernon.” Josh's tone resembled one he would use on a 6-year-old who just fell off their bike, but he thought it was appropriate as their maknae looked so broken and fragile.

Jangmi gave a weak chuckle. “It’s different. It’s not just the English. It kinda comes hand in hand with the other stuff. But you still have family here. You can visit your aunts, your second cousins. Plus we always go back to LA for promotions.”

Josh nodded his head, “true true.”

Jangmi continued. “Everytime we talk about tour; I keep asking them to visit Australia. Even if it’s not our own concert, I’d be happy with KCON.”

“I’m just so sick of not being able to go back when everyone else can.” Her voice cracking. “I haven’t gone home in 4 years.”

Her hyung held her tightly, as she broke into sobs once again. Josh rocked Jangmi back and forth until she had no more tears left to cry. He’d learnt from his experiences it was often best to let her release her emotions, and then figure out ways to solve it.

Jangmi looked up once hearing front door being slammed, and quickly shifted her position, using her hands to dry her tears.

“It’s pointless hiding it, isn’t it?” Her voice sounding hoarse and cracking at the ends.

Josh chuckled, using his fingers to tuck her hair neatly behind her ears. “Doesn’t matter. I’m pretty sure Chan’s giving an over the top version of what happened.”

Jangmi groaned. “Can you tell Seungcheol hyung I’m fine.”

“I can’t lie to your dad like that.” Josh gasped dramatically, causing Jangmi to smack the back of his head. “No more bracelets for you.”

“Who said I want your childish bracelets anyway?” Jangmi joked, causing him to tackle her on the bed.

“Take that back.” Josh instructed, whilst tickling Jangmi.

“Never” Jangmi yelled, trying to squirm after his grasp.

Their fight continued for a little bit, only stopping when Jangmi announced that if she was tickled again, she’d wet the bed.

They sat in silence for a second, Jangmi using that time effectively to catch her breath.

“Thank you though.” Jangmi smiled at her hyung.

Josh squeezed his way between the way and Jangmi, before pulling her closer to his chest.

“You still haven’t told me what caused it.”

Jangmi stayed silent for a second, before little out a small sigh. “I got a reminder this morning, on my Calendar saying my flight was tomorrow. And that’s when I realised that I would have been seeing my grandma and family in a few days. And then when they called me, I felt so bad because they kept talking about all the fun we would be having if I was there. But I’m here, cos of fucking Covid, and not there. I’m on my last packet of tam-tams, and I’m pretty sure my vegemite is expired.” Her string of words ending with a small sniffle.

Josh opened his mouth, but closed it again. He didn’t know how to make Jangmi feel better. It’s true that the foreigners all missed home, but there were instances where Jangmi felt alone. He always complained about missing home, but he usually went there a few times a year. Jangmi, on the other hand, hadn’t been attacked by venomous animals for quite a while.

“I promise when this whole pandemic is over, we’ll go visit.” Josh held out his pinky.

Jangmi raised her eyebrows. “That’s a pretty big promise you got there.”

“I never said when.” Josh wiggled his pinky.

“Fineeee.” Jangmi looped her pinky with his, and they shook on it

Three knocks on the door, made them turn around to see Chan walking in with cup of presumably tea.

“Chan! Don’t spill any, I don’t want my socks to get sticky everytime I walk into your room.” Seungcheol huffed from behind him.

“Doesn’t that happen anyway.” Mingyu said in passing as he walked down the corridor.

Jangmi gladly accepted the warm milk tea, and took a sip. It was her favourite Dilmah tea, but because of her stupid diet, Chan had only put in one sugar.

“I wanted to put sugar, but I didn’t know if you wanted some.” Chan stood opposite her, watching her carefully.

Josh stood up, grabbing the tea from Jangmi and placing it on her bedside table, pushing some random rings which eventually fell on the floor.

“Actually.” Josh announced. “I think Jangmi and I are going to go on a Maccas Run.”

“We are?” Jangmi questioned, wondering when she even signed up for this.

“Yes we are.” Josh confirmed. “And we are going to get some shrimp on the barbie from a kbbq place. And then we’re gonna drink some ‘Fosters’ until 3am.”

Seungcheols eyes widened. “You are?”

“She barely drinks.” Chan objected quickly. Not wanting his drinking habits to pass down to his twin-maknae.

“Please never use Australian slang ever again. I will stop complaining about ‘Sunday Morning’ if you stop.” Jangmi begged, internally dying at him butchering Australian English. She’d text Felix about this nightmare later.

“Ok ok. But are you still down for a Maccas run?” He switched back to English

“I’m on a diet.” Jangmi sulked.

“We just finished promotions a few days ago.” Josh tried to reason with her.

“We’re shooting the music video to ‘24H’ soon though.” She pointed out.

“I don’t know what you both are saying in English, but I’m not going to object getting some fast food. I’m not going to endorse it either. As the lead-”

“Cut the crap Seungcheol.” Josh interrupted. “No one’s here to tell you off.”

Seungcheol waved his arms frantically. “Just do whatever you want. Be safe obviously. No one listens to me anyway.”

“You got that right.” Jangmi jumped out of her bed, before grabbing one of the jackets hanging in her closet.

“Isn’t that my-”

Jangmi grabbed her phone, before stuffing into her trackie pocket. “Can’t talk Chan. Gonna get food.”

Jangmi walked out the door first and as Josh was about to follow, Seungcheol grabbed his arm. “Tell me after, yeah?”

Josh nodded in confirmation. “I think you’ll need to speak to management about this.”

Their leader furrowed his eyebrows in concern. “Is it serious? Is she ok? Chan said she had a meltdown after looking at a picture.”

Josh gave a supportive smile. “She’s alright… I think… for now. She’s just homesick.”

Seungcheol mentally relaxed. “We’ll talk about it later. Thanks for looking after her.”

Josh opened his mouth to reply but was interrupted by Jangmi’s scream coming from the front door. “Hurry up! I want an Apple Pie.”

He chuckled, whilst shaking his head. “Talk soon,” he said as he left the room.

“Bring me back some fries!” Seungcheol shouted.

“And some nuggets!” Chan added.

Jangmi rolled her eyes, as Joshua grabbed his shoes.

They had just left their apartment and were waiting for the lift when their phones started vibrating like crazy.

Jangmi quickly opened hers up to find the groupchat being lit up with different McDonalds orders. Even from Wonwoo, who had gone back to his parents’ place for the night.

She shut off her phone without replying, and shoved it into her pocket.

“How mad would they be if I just seened them, without bringing back food?”

Previous: Privacy

[mordoriscalling]

Stay or Sail Away (1/6)

Here comes part one the modern AU fake dating Geraskier fic that I talked about in this post. I’d like to post each part daily. Tagging @geraskier-trashh as requested! :D

***

It’s not that Jaskier has any problem finding someone, thank you very much. It’s just that he’s busy. Busy with concerts and composing, meeting fans at various events, travelling, internet dramas involving Valdo (it’s always fucking Valdo). There’s no time for a relationship, only for occasional one night stands that sometimes that leave him heartbroken because he actually manages to fall in love with someone in the span of a few hours. It’s fine, though. Heartbreak inspires him like little else.

Jaskier's never complained about lack of bed partners, when he seeks them out. He’s charming, after all. Still, the moment he hears “commitment”, he flees. It’s just not his way. Or perhaps he’s never found anyone fascinating enough to commit to; it takes a lot to keep his attention.  He wasn’t even looking for someone like that. Not until recently.

His troubles began a week ago, during a phone call with his mum. She reminded him of his father’s 65th birthday party and asked if he would bring anyone with him. This was followed by a series of questions about his love life because, as his mum put it, “you’re 35, Julian darling, and you’re always working so hard! I worry you’ll end up alone”. In order to placate her, Jaskier might’ve lied a little tiny bit about some things. As a result, because of all the twists and turns of the conversation, he made his mother believe he had a fiancé.

A fucking fiancé.

Wanda Pankratz was ecstatic, wishing to know everything about her son’s relationship, but he dodged all the further questions by saying that she would meet his love soon enough. She left it at that but, of course, told half the family about it, if the texts and calls from his sisters and aunts were anything to go by.

Hence, The Post.

It’s a bit pathetic and desperate, Jaskier can freely admit, but he has no other choice. His personal guard Zoltan almost pissed himself laughing when Jaskier asked him to pretend to be his fiancé, and not one of his friends knows anyone who would want to do this. Not even his agent Triss could help him out.

It all drove Jaskier to log on his anonymous Facebook account (he is a pretty big name in the UK; better be safe than sorry) and post in one of the big London groups.

“I need urgent help from someone who’d be willing to act as my fiancé during a family party on February the 24th. The only thing I expect is the ability to sing praises of our love and to compliment my aunts. It’ll take around 4 hours and then we end our relationship. Age from 35 to 40. It’d be great if you knew something about the sea because I intend to introduce you as a sailor who’s never home and afterwards, you die. Can anybody help?”

Since yesterday, the post has got more than a thousand reactions (mostly the laughing one and likes) and hundreds of comments. Many people tagged their friends as a joke, which is not helpful, but Jaskier still scrolls down and down, trying not to let his hope die. Nobody seems to think his request is for real and he’s received no serious offers so far. Then, one of the newest comment threads catches his attention.

Lambert Rivia:    Geralt Rivia Destiny!

                              Geralt Rivia Fuck off

                              Yennefer Vengeberg Omg 😂 Cirilla Vengeberg-Rivia Eskel Rivia you must see this!

                              Cirilla Vengeberg-Rivia Yesssss!! This is perfect! ❤️

                              Eskel Rvia Do it Geralt

                              Geralt Rivia No.

Intrigued, Jaskier decides to check out these people’s profiles. Lambert Rivia is a handsome red-haired man who wears some kind of black military suit in his profile picture. Looking at his bio, Jaskier already knows why Lambert didn’t volunteer himself – he’s in a relationship. Eskel Rivia is blond, even more handsome than Lambert despite facial scars, and also has a photo in a black suit, together with a white cap on his head. There’s no information on Eskel’s relationship status and Jaskier is intrigued indeed. Yennefer Vengeberg is a terrifyingly beautiful woman who, judging how professional her profile picture appears, must work in some serious profession. Cirilla Vengerberg-Rivia is a lovely teenage girl with white-blond hair. Jaskier reckons she’s the daughter of Yennefer and one of the Rivia guys.

He left the poor Geralt’s profile as the last to look at, but now that Jaskier has seen the rest, he checks this one too.

His jaw fucking drops.

Geralt Rivia is a ridiculously handsome man. His face seems practically unreal because, surely, people as beautiful as Geralt don’t actually exist? The man’s long white hair (which makes no sense considering his apparent age), as well as his brown-almost-golden eyes, only add to his otherwordly, stunning appearance. Double stunning in that black military suit he’s wearing in his profile picture, just like Lambert and Eskel. The suit looks familiar and Jaskier has a nagging feeling he really should know what kind of army it is. Google helps him out and he quickly puts two to two – Geralt, Eskel and Lambert serve for the Royal Navy.

He bursts out laughing.

This is too good.

He wonders what he should to about this. Now that he knows about Geralt’s existence, he can’t really miss the chance of meeting him, however slim. His gut feeling tells him not to let the opportunity slip and well, who is Jaskier not to listen?

When he’s in the middle of debating what to write to the man, his phone pings. There’s a new messenger notification... with Geralt’s name. With a racing heart, Jaskier opens the message.

FEB THE 18TH AT 06:14 PM Hey. Everyone’s telling me to message you and won’t leave me alone. Is your request for real? Please say no

Jaskier chuckles and replies:

Hi! I’m sorry they’re bothering you and I’m also sorry to say that my request is very much for real. I’d be forever grateful if you helped me 😁

To this, Geralt responds with:

They really won’t stop until I agree They think it’s so fucking funny

Jaskier purses his lips, already suspecting this isn’t likely to work out. He'll have to face his loving mum and admit that he lied to her about fucking having a fiancé. She’s going to be so disappointed. At the very prospect, bad mood overtakes him, but he still types what he hopes to be a cheerful answer.

Damn, so sorry mate I won’t push you but, again, I’d totally owe you one if you agree  ☺️

What would I get?

Jaskier tries to reason with his hope to calm the fuck down and replies:

Money, or a favour of some sort, I have many connections Could be free tickets to my concerts  Even my company for the night 😏 Just whatever you want I really need help

Fuck

For a minute or two, the three dots next to Geralt’s photo disappear, and Jaskier’s hope plummets in a  dramatic fashion. Then, more messages from Geralt show up in the chat.

Free tickets seem fine My daughter loves going to concerts She’d like free tickets but I never heard of you

Jaskier starts begging any god out there that Cirilla is Geralt’s daughter. Teenagers make up a large part of his audience (which is great, actually; teenage kids are amazing these days). If she’s a fan, the free tickets are a major bargaining chip.

Well, Julian AP isn’t my stage name I don’t use it on fb

What is it? Your stage name

I’d rather not say here And you must promise me you won’t tell anyone about it too Well, anyone but your daughter

Ok

 Can you call me? It’s better to talk about this on the phone anyway

Fine.

Jaskier sends Geralt his number and waits for the call. In other circumstances, he’d congratulate himself on getting a man like that to call him so easily, but he’s too anxious. His hands itch for his guitar but he doesn’t get up from his bed. He begins smoothing his hair out with his palms, praying in his mind that Geralt hasn’t changed his mind.

After the agonizing wait of six minutes, there’s an incoming call. Jaskier takes a deep breath and picks up.

“Hello,” says a gravelly baritone voice so pleasant that it sends shivers down Jaskier’s spine.

“Uhm, h-hi, Geralt,” he replies a bit breathlessly, “so, my name’s Julian Alfred Pankratz but I’m known to many as Jaskier.”

There’s a beat of silence. “Jaskier?” Geralt repeats, “the one who sings Her Sweet Kiss?”

Jaskier beams, his chest swelling with pride. “The very same.”

“Fuck,” Geralt growls, “Ciri wants to blast this song whenever we drive somewhere.”

Jaskier laughs. “She would love free tickets to my concerts, wouldn’t she?”

“Yeah.”

Geralt says no more. Jaskier has to swallow down to sop his throat from constricting. “So?” he asks, “Can you do this for me?”

The silence on the other side is deafening and Jaskier doesn’t even breathe until Geralt finally speaks up. “Fine,” he grunts, his tone indicating it’s anything but fine.

Air leaves Jaskier’s lungs in a whoosh, replaced by a flood of such sheer relief that he may as well cry. “Thank you, thank you, thank you!” he babbles, heady with joy, “Gosh, you’re my saviour!”

“Just don’t tell anyone about this,” Geralt grumbles.

“Not a soul, Geralt, not a soul.”

“Send me the details about when and where and let’s get this over w–”

“No, wait!” Jaskier cuts in, “My family’s very perceptive, they’ll know it’s a ruse. We should plan everything carefully.”

“You’re making me regret this,” Gerlt growls.

“I’m sorry!” Jaskier hastens to say. “Just... at least tell me a bit about yourself?”

Geralt lets out an irritated sigh. “I’m forty, serve for the Royal Navy with my brothers. Eskel’s the nice one and Lambert’s the prick. My ex-wife Yennefer works for the government.” Jaskier actually shudders at this one because he already can picture it. Yennefer seems exactly powerful like that. “We have a daughter,” Geralt goes on, his tone softening, “Ciri. She’s fourteen. We live in London but I’m away often.”

“Oh, lovely,” Jaskier says with a wide smile because, really, this man’s love for his daughter is so clear and endearing, “this is something we can start with.”

“Just make everything up about our relationship and send it to me. I’ll play along.”

“Thank you,” he breathes out, still amazed at his luck. Jaskier is almost high on the success of his ingenious scheme and his obligations are therefore non-existent, so nothing stops him from teasing Geralt. “Though, to be completely honest," he says cheekily, "you don’t strike me as the type to sing praises of our love and compliment my aunts.”

“Hmm,” Geralt replies. It doesn’t sound like a negation. “Yen says I’m not that bad if I try.”

The fondness with which he said Yennefer’s name is a cold bucket of water poured on his enthusiasm. “O-oh, ok,” he stutters out, thrown off-track, “So, uhm, would you be willing to try for me?”

For a moment, Geralt says nothing, then answers, “If you give Ciri an autograph.”

Jaskier laughs out loud. “Not a problem at all! Whatever she wants.” He pauses. “Whatever you want,” he adds more seriously.  

Geralt only hmms, in a way that Jaskier’s prone-to-romanticism mind would almost call warm. Silence falls between them but it doesn’t feel awkward somehow. “Have to go,” Geralt says.

“Okay,” Jaskier replies quietly, “Thank you again. I’ll text you, yeah?”

“Yeah.”

After Geralt hangs up, Jaskier huffs out a shaky breath. Deep down, he already knows.

This is going to mess him up.

TBC

Part 2

[echo-three-one]

Good day tumblr.

I'm migrating to using google docs for writing and I found something I wrote that was unpublished.

It's like an OC x OC because I wrote this at the time I got invested in A LOT of contemporary romance books.

It's also NSFW, It is a one-shot and I don't know how I made that last sentence. I'm single since birth and maybe had a couple of girls in my life but never really made it together. Enjoy? I guess

Matt

I released yet another deep sigh as I tossed my controller on the couch. It has been two months since my heart got shattered but I still haven’t found the chance to move on. Maybe I wasn’t supposed to, that’s why my mind has been tormenting me ever since. Even my best bud gave up on me when after all those “conventional ways” he knew failed, evidenced by me still visiting her profile page every now and then. Heck, I even have her notifications of whenever she posts.

My phone vibrated and that specific ding means that it’s an Instagram post from her. Yes, call me crazy and all because I still am even after all this time. She posted a picture of a plane ticket and a passport to whoever knows where, it’s one of those photos that didn’t contain her face, meaning, it’s a personal and unsponsored post and it’s something she wants to express. See, I’m still clearly not over her. I groan in frustration and threw my phone beside the controller, as I slide down from the couch down to the floor like a kid who didn’t get the toy he wanted for Christmas. I lazily reached for the tub of ice cream on the coffee table beside me and looked at it, it’s half melted and sad, Just like me. I got up and brought back the sad dessert to my refrigerator and as soon as I got back, I saw myself on the mirror. Fuck, I looked horrible, my hair was a bird’s nest and my beard grew thicker each day. I’m actually glad my work doesn’t involve me showing up in an office because, I could get used to this look, I wanted the world to see how broken I am right now, I wanted her to see what happened to me. I surveyed around the room, it was a mess. Empty beer bottles sprawled over the living room, while chips were all opened and half eater on every chair of the room. The only good thing is that the mess only accumulated on one specific room, I don’t sleep on my bed anymore because I could still smell her on the sheets, and I never wanted that to leave.

A few more days passed and I finally did something not involving gloating: I ordered a cleaning service for the living room and specifically told them not to touch any other room. The past days reminded me that there’s more to life than her and I actually went outside today, grabbing my camera and slipping on my trusted hoodie which I use for work, I let the cleaning team fix my mess as I unwind by doing what I am really passionate about, taking pictures.

My best friend, Patrick, was actually proud of my decision, wishing he could support me but was stuck in his wife’s family gathering. I felt guilty that I didn’t talk to him the past months as I gloated, hearing someone who actually cares for me was a good feeling, especially after locking myself from the world after a miserable break-up.

As soon as I got to the park, I started taking simple pictures, flowers, children playing, flowing streams, and skyscrapers. It actually feels good to be back outside, seeing the beauty of the world not from a glass screen. I flipped through my camera roll and examined each photo I took. They really weren’t that good, but mixed with a nice back story, It could be a killer post. I chuckled as I rotate the dial of my camera and went a little too far back and I froze in the middle of the park. It was a picture of me and Bianca, my ex-girlfriend, whom I missed so much. It was taken on a gazebo at the park we visited back then and a 7 year old kid took the photo, We were travelling around so if the two of us were In a photo, it means we asked someone to take it for us. The said photo was where I saw myself smile the widest. She was wrapping her arms around me from behind and my eyes were closed, smiling while she was looking at me and laughing.

A single drop fell on the screen and I woke back to my senses, did I just cry? I looked around and saw children running about as I looked up into the sky and saw dark clouds forming. So much for going outside…

That evening, I actually had the inspiration to work. With the storm brewing up outside, sending tendrils of lightning across the sky, I decided that It was the perfect set-up to get something done. Hours flew by as I managed my schedules and checked my e-mails letting my clients know that I was alive and just hit a rough patch. I didn’t even realized that my entry got nominated on a competition I signed up for earlier that year, which was probably the little ray of sunlight on my gloomy skies. Just this evening, I managed to book 3 photo sessions for next week, which might give me something to get busy on while I do the inevitable: moving on.

Later that night, my phone buzzed a familiar tone. She was calling me. Rubbing the sleep off my eyes, and making sure I’m not dreaming, I hurriedly grabbed my phone. It’s her photo. She. Is. Actually. Calling. Me.

My heart sped up and I took deep breaths. I’m not dumb. I’m going to pretend I’m over her. I’m doing this for myself.

“Hello?” I croaked.

“Hello! Is this you Matt?” her voice reignited my mind. Shit. My mind went blank.

“Uh.. Yes. This is Matt. Who is .. Who is this?” I stuttered. I’m not a great pretender, but I did my best.

“This is Bianca, your uh.. friend. We’re still friends right?” she chuckles, the sound of an intercom could be heard from behind. As I thought, she’s in an airport.

“Oh. Of course, Bianca, we are.” I scoffed. Yeah. Friends. Would it hurt you to say we’re at least ex lovers?

“Listen, um.. I badly need your help. I’m at the airport right now and they canceled my flight due to the storm. I was about to look for nearby hotels but there’s a concert right now that filled up the rooms fast. Do you mind if I stay in there for a while?” my breathing sped up. No way, she’s spending the night here?

“Oh sure sure. I’ll come pick you up there, just wait for me..” I stuttered and ended the call, so much for being able to move on, I managed to make a fool of myself yet again. Without any more hesitations, I quickly prepared myself and drove to the airport.

Bianca

“I won’t regret it.” I whispered one last time as I sat on the waiting area by the entrance, hugging my phone close as I breathed out a heavy sigh. I can’t believe I’m in this situation, it’s like fate wanted me to give Matt a proper farewell, the one with no vague explanations and quick goodbyes. I closed my eyes and braced myself as sooner or later I’d be facing him. He sounded fine over the phone, except he felt nervous.. and hesitating. Maybe he’s busy and he has to make quick changes so he could cater to me. He shouldn’t, but knowing him, he would. Everyone who knows Matt knows he’s very accommodating.

“Bianca..” a voice whispered in front of me as I opened my eyes.. Matt stood there, with an umbrella open and another one hanging on his hand. He offered his other umbrella and carried my luggage behind me. I can’t help but wonder how he’s holding up and the longer I wonder, the more shy I become knowing that I caused a part of this change. Last time I saw him, he was this slightly chubby, always freshly shaven and a smile never leaves his face. Now, he looked like he lost a couple of pounds and he hasn’t shaved in days as his stubble grew around his mouth, and he’s not fooling me with that fake smile he plastered on his face. He should know that I could see through that smile of his.

I started to feel nervous as I entered his car, although nothing much changed, the consistency bothered me a lot. It felt the same when we were together, the smell, the same things in his dashboard and even these dust settling on the floor. Did he not use his car ever since? I shouldn’t be bothered by this, but I can’t help but be curious as to what he was up to all these months.

I admired how Matt handled this situation maturely, he kept casual on his questions, evading everything that would lead to the events of two months ago. I took the chance to ask how he was doing and surprisingly, he answered quickly that he took a lot of photo sessions and how he got nominated on some indie photography award. At least that talk shook off the worry that was growing in me and gave me hope that this night will turn out great rather than a disaster.

As soon as we walked into his room, he talked about how I should feel at home since I am his guest. He talked so nonchalant it felt like he rehearsed what he said, I tried to ignore his emotionless introduction as he led me to his bedroom, I glanced around and noticed that nothing really changed during my time here, and it probably means that he’s holding up pretty well. He settled my luggage beside the bed and he grabbed a pillow and some comforters, and single-handedly carried it outside.

“I’ll be sleeping by the couch if you need something. I mean, you probably know your way around, Good Night, Bianca.” he says as he slowly shut the door, leaving me alone in his room. I slowly plopped myself into his comfortable sheets and tried to shut my eyes, but I can’t help but smell my old shampoo in his pillow. Slightly bothered, I got up and took a whiff at the pillow and realized it was my smell, I quickly grabbed the other one and caught a whiff of Matt’s scent on it. He probably doesn’t use the whole bed when he sleeps, I thought to myself, dismissing any other thoughts and tried to sleep. I shifted positions every other minute until I couldn't take it anymore. I grew curious until the point that I wanted to confront him about it. It looks like the talk we’ve both been evading should happen.

Matt

I fluffed my pillows one last time and glanced at my bedroom door for the last time. She’s in there. I muttered to myself. I wanted to talk to her one last time, maybe ask some questions and say what I feel… But that won’t happen tonight, she has a lot of things on her plate right now and has to deal with rebooking a cancelled flight, I should probably stay out of her way. I heard the door creak and I quickly got up and locked my eyes on her, as she peeks at the door.

“Is there something wrong?” I asked.

“I’m just going to get some water.” She replied as he walked to the kitchen, I can't help but let my eyes follow her as she carefully moved to the fridge. She was wearing her favorite pajamas, pink with flower prints sprawled everywhere. I smiled as our gazes met.

“Feeling comfy?” I asked.

“Yeah, what about you?” She nodded and nudged toward my direction.

“Yes.” I replied shifting comfortably on my couch, grinning like a little kid. She let out a soft chuckle and entered back to the room. I smiled as she shut the door and drifted myself to sleep.

The cold burst of air crossed against my foot and made me shiver, this wasn’t supposed to happen, did I forget to close the windows? I slowly got up and looked around, I wasn’t dreaming, my ex is still here. I peeked at the balcony and saw her staring at the moon, I saw that she scratched the pajamas and is now wearing possibly only her underwear behind that silk robe, a robe she got when she competed that one competition overseas.

“Can’t sleep?” I asked her as I offered a mug of warm milk. She looked surprised and a faint blush on her face formed as it was illuminated by the moonlight.

“Actually, yeah. Just thinking of what’s ahead.” She smiled as she grabbed the mug, wrapping it with her hands and blowing the steam away and taking a sip. “You?”

“You opened the balcony and the cold breeze kinda made me shiver.” I laughed.

“I’m sorry.” She bowed and chuckled softly. “I never knew you were that sensitive to cold.”

“Well, I wasn’t until…” I answered while I looked down on myself, emphasizing how loose my shirt was.

“Oh.. I noticed that. What happened? You hit the gym? Oh, you’re trying to impress someone! Do tell!” she asked grabbing my shirt, I could feel the shakiness in her reply, as if it was invading uncharted territory.

I sighed. “I can’t lie to you… I didn’t really want to bring this up but… I forgot to eat. When you left… You can forget that detail. I just want this off my chest, that’s all.” My heart pounded through my chest as I told her.

She pursed her lips and averted her gaze elsewhere. “I’m sorry about that…” she said but I shushed her mouth with my index finger. “You don’t have to… It’s my fault.” I said, trying to save her from recalling what she did. I didn’t want that, I wanted her to know that I’ve been trying. I continued talking, I told her about the things I learned from her, and that I was willing to move forward with my life, I wanted her to keep the details of our break up to herself, so I could evaluate on myself and become a better person. Lastly, I told her that I still loved her up to this very moment, and how it might take a while for it to slowly fade away.

A tear fell from the corner of her eye and I wiped It off with my thumb as I cupped her soft warm cheeks, her hands slowly grabbed mine and slowly guided it to her heart, I felt it pound and of course, I felt her soft breasts as she let me feel it.

“I’m still at fault for letting you go like that… I didn’t even consider how it’d affect you…” her voice croaked and I can’t help but embrace her and rub her back.

“I guess, it’s just like that sometimes, Bianca. Words don’t need to explain everything.” I whispered to her ear as I slowly accepted that we were never getting back together. I have lost the war for her heart and at least I did it with her wrapped around my arms.

She then looked up to me, reaching her arms on my cheek, gently rubbing my stubble. She then pulled my face close to hers as our lips met each other. I hesitated at first, but I’m only human and I still loved her, so as I felt her tongue beg to enter me, I tilted my head and wrapped my tongue against her, tasting her again possibly for the last time. I gripped her waist, slowly sliding my hand to her ass and held it tight pulling her body close to me. This action made her moan while she was inside my mouth and I closed my eyes wishing this moment would never end. Bianca quickly hoisted herself toward me and wrapped her legs on my hips which led me off balance. I quickly regained composure as I blindly led her to the couch and we both crashed on it while she was straddling on my lap.

We almost never had the time for sex, it was either she was too tired or I was and most of the time, she's away for trainings. If I was given the chance to rate all of our sexy moments together, this was possibly one of the best, yet it also is one of the worst, as it was the last one. Our make out session was full of soft kisses on every angle possible, smacking sounds echoed across the room along with soft pants and groans escaping from our mouths. My hands clung on to her ass most of the time, slowly rubbing her soft ass cheeks and stretching it outward during long kisses. She didn't stop me, so I started kissing her chest area as I let her perky nipples peek through her bra.

All I got from her is a smile and a sparkle in her eye saying 'go ahead' and I began to suck it and lick around her nipples, her soft moans felt rewarding as her hand guides my free hand to play with the other one. I hungrily sucked on both her nipples, changing course quickly, giving each of her breasts undivided attention. This went on for quite a while, until she moved back and pushed me back, her hand trailed through my chest, teasingly grazing through my nipples and slid down to my stomach, gripping the hem of my shirt and pulling it upward. All I did was oblige and she lifted my shirt off and tossed it behind her. She then left my chest and grabbed my shoulders, guiding me to rest my back on the couches' arm rest as she crawled towards me, giving my chest a soft kiss, slowly trailing down just below my belly button. Her eyes looked at me and our gazes met, she smiled menacingly as she grips my cock through my pants and slowly rubs it. I let out short and fast pants as she slowly yanked my pants down while I quickly pulled it off my feet and kicked it away.

Her index finger slowly circled around my shaft as she spread my precum around it and moved her mouth and began to devour it whole. My mind began to blur as I let out a huge sigh, my hand moved her hair and tucked it behind her ear. Her warm tongue welcomed my cock as it licked the shaft like an ice cream cone, then started circling around it finishing her act by going deeper into her mouth. Fuck, I wanted to cum so bad but I shouldn't, so as soon as I felt it drawing close, I yanked her hair up. She didn't flinch. I was expecting her to be mad at me, but all she did was flash a wide grin on her face and all I could ever do is slowly get up and quickly push her to the other side of the couch and pin her.

I pressed my whole body into her and my hand quickly unclasped her bra, setting her impressively huge tits free. Grabbing her breast, I quickly leaned into her mouth and kissed her angrily, growling inside her as our tongues clashed inside each other. My hand slowly let go of her chest and my mouth slowly trailed down to her dripping wet pussy, angrily pulling her panties down and tossed it behind me. I started playing with her pussy by giving it soft licks, my tongue barely touching her inner senses, then I applied a little bit pressure, followed by steady repeated licks on one area while my fingers spread open her labia.

I stopped and guided her to sit on the couch properly as I sat next to her, spreading her legs wide and let my fingers enter her, feeling the warmth and tightness of her pussy. I stopped a moan from escaping her mouth as I kissed her while my hands played inside her. I picked up the pace and all she could do was pant and cup my face, letting me kiss her as she moans inside my mouth while I continue to pleasure her using my fingers. I grinned at her and kissed her tits, my heart racing as I felt her getting excited at the effect I have on her right now.

"Oh. My. Fuck. Matt." she moaned in between pants, her voice quavered giving me the motivation to move my fingers faster, as I hear the sound of her pussy and my fingers compliment each other. She arched her back as I steadily pleasured my mouth on her right breast.

"So good.." she whimpered as I felt her wetness in my fingers and moved my lips back to hers, my fingers now moved slowly inside her. She panted and straddled herself on my lap, facing me with lust sparklin on her eyes as she gripped my cock and guided it slowly in her. Her wetness easily drenched my shaft as my mind went hazy when she quickly sat on my cock, letting out a soft yelp as she bounced on top of me. She started it slowly, letting us moan 'haa' at different intervals, as she circles her hips while slowly sitting on my cock. All I could do was open my mouth in pleasure, while looking at her maneuvering my cock like a cowgirl.

My mind will never forget this memory of her, riding on my cock and her tits bouncing in front of me while I held onto her waist. Ever since she picked up her pace, our soft 'haa's turned into loud 'aah's as the sound her ass clapping with my thighs rang on my ears. She continued to bounce as she leaned forward to me, letting our foreheads meet and eyes steadily lock in each other.

"Holy shit, you're still amazing." I whispered and all she could reply was a kiss, another long kiss while my hips met with her bounces. I felt my orgasm close, so I broke the kiss to warn her. "I'm about to c-" she cut me off with another kiss, as I felt my cock release waves of hot cum inside her, feeling her tighten me as we slowly ease the pace until it stopped. As soon as I pulled my cock, I saw her pussy drip down my cum, a smile escaping my face while I pant.

"I guess this is goodbye?" I whispered as I asked her for one last kiss, and she obliged, giving me the closure I needed to move on. Funny story is, we had more steamy sex after that, in the kitchen, on the bed and even on the floor, I even sneaked into her while she showered. But at the end of the day, I managed to delete her name from my contacts, along with unsubscribing on her notifications and washing the sheets she used to sleep on. Later that day, I looked at the sky as her plane flew past the building and took a deep breath. I guess first love never dies, but then again not all first loves are not meant for you.