#and always ask permission to the ORIGINAL artist rather than just grabbing it out of google :')

[maiko-coy]

Hi, I don't know if you already know this, but there's a TikTok user who's reposting some of yours and others art and won't give credit. Their username is fria and they have since blocked me because I told them to credit the artists involved. Just thought I would let you know. 💕

Yeah I got a message about this from another person and i saw someone reblogging about it. Thank yall btw for telling me, i dont have TikTok so i had no idea :') I've spoken with them and they took it down ^^

[thesunicarusfellfor]

Hello my beloved! ( Can I call you that? And people it's platonic!) I have an idea and this is for pogtopia wilbur and ghostbur! Can you do a reader who loves painting and one morning they find a picture of them with a note about the reader confessing to then but they didn't do it in person because they were really nervous? Thank you!

And please take as much time as you want also could it be a long story? Thank you!

- Your beloved Moosh 🥺

Moosh, darling! Hello! Yes, you have my full permission to call me that, thank you for asking! This is the third time I've written this story because Tumblr just really enjoys screwing me over...

Also. You never clarified whether you wanted fluff or angst, but it's Pogtopia Wilby so I kinda just went with angst? If you want a happy end to this, I'll rewrite this no problem! But it won't be as long because... Well, you'll see. Also also, I didn't exactly know where to throw the Ghosty Bur in, so... Yeaaaah? He's at the end tho!

THE FIRST PART IS LIKE NEW NEW POGTOPIA WILBUR

TW: (Sorry it didn't save the first time) C!Schlatt, bruising, threatened hanging, self doubt

Perfect Picture of Imperfection (Pogtopia!C!Wilbur x GN!Painter!Reader)

Maybe you painted Schlatt's horns the wrong colour? Or his jawline was off? He was furious when you finally showed him your art piece... It was the best you could do with the few hours you were given! Paint physically couldn’t dry as fast as Schlatt wanted it to you… He didn’t seem to care when he threw the wooden frame of the torn canvas at you, giving you a dark bruise right above your eye, or when he started yelling at you and threatening to burn your art studio down to the ground.

Or even when he grabbed you and suggested to Quackity to hang you at the gallows for insulting the emperor of Manberg.

The man you had once been friends with grinned widely and nodded happily, “Yes, sir! Yes, sir!” He said, without a single care that you were a living human being, only giving a cheer as he picked you up so your feet were dangling on the ground, leaving you silent in terror. Tubbo only averted his gaze.

“Aww… You’re like a little fawn, caught in the torchlight of a traveller.” The ram hybrid smiled in a sickly sweet manner, causing the colour to drain from your face, “Come now, darling, I’m not a monster… You’re the only one of Wilbur’s sweet little subjects that he hasn’t gotten back, and here I thought you were his favourite… Or maybe he left you here to act as a sacrifice so they could all be off doing their own thing... Guess he prefers Niki over you…” He whispered as he dropped you, chuckling softly as you scurried out of the building as you quite literally ran for your life.

You called Wilbur when you were safely hidden in your house, gasps and sobs leaving your mouth quicker than tears could pool out of your eyes…

“(Y/n)... You can’t be calling me when-”

“Wil…?” You whispered into the communicator, your voice shaking enough to shut him up immediately, “He… He’s going to…” Hiccuping meekly, you curled in tighter on yourself as you heard Schlatt’s loud and pompous voice come over the speaker system he had hung up all around the once beautiful country, “I think I’m going to die here…”

The dead silence that followed through the line was sickening…

“Is it true…?” You couldn’t help but find yourself wondering aloud, “Is that why I’m the only one left here? Am I a sacrifice so you can live happily elsewhere? ...Is that why you haven’t come to get me?”

“(Y/n), I want you to never utter those words again.” His voice was dark and steely as there was a bit of crashing around that came from the other side as well as faint mumbles which were clearly from Tommy judging by all the swearing, “You are not a sacrifice. Now... Get your Enderchest and Inventory packed up, I’m coming to get you tonight, and then I’ll explain in person…”

The line cut off and you slowly lowered the communicator down from beside your ear. Your heart was sinking one minute, but soaring the next… A terrible feeling really. You were saved! But… He could get caught trying to come to get you… You couldn’t let that happen for sure. With a heavy sigh, you rubbed your eyes free of tears before standing up and beginning to shove any necessary equipment into your Enderchest, including your finished painting of Wilbur that you were going to give to him when he won the election… And finally, confess your feelings…

When midnight hit and the lights of the city finally died down, you climbed up onto your roof and looked around for the president, fear and paranoia flooding through your veins as your mind went wild. What if he got caught? What if he was trying to give you false hope? What if. What if. What if. These sort of questions buzzed around in your mind for an hour as you waited for your saviour to arrive…

Finally, when enough became enough and you decided he wasn’t coming, you stopped pacing and slowly sat down on the roof as the tears began to start again. You could practically hear Schlatt chiding you in the back of your mind, telling you that you were a fool for holding out hope.

“(Y/n)!” A low hiss came from beside you and a hand touched your shoulder. You certainly would’ve screamed bloody murder if another hand hadn’t quickly wrapped around your mouth, “Sh, sh, sh, it’s me… It’s Wilbur.” The voice soothed softly as the hand left your mouth, quickly allowing you to turn your head.

It didn’t feel real… Seeing him after so long… And in an outfit other than his uniform. “Wil...bur?” You repeated, staring at him for a while before giving him a soft smile filled with relief, “You really came…”

“Of course I did!” He almost seemed offended for a moment before his eyes softened as he realized what Schlatt must’ve drilled into your head. Wilbur easily caught you as you flung your self at him, quickly wrapping his arms around you and burying his face in your (h/l) (h/c) hair, “I missed my artiste…” He whispered, donning a temporary french accent for the word ‘artist’.

Holding back a sob, you quickly grabbed his extended hand and followed him as he jumped off your roof, safely landing in a bed of hay that you used to feed your old farm animals that Schlatt confiscated before following him out of this damned country.

After that, things seemed to change between you and Wilbur. He always seemed to be at your side, choosing to personally train you rather than letting Techno train you with everyone else, or even running over ideas on how to expand Pogtopia with you rather than with Tommy. His touches always lingered longer or he somehow wound up leaning closer to you than originally necessary, but you never caught yourself complaining. He would watch you paint beautiful designs along the armour he had gifted you, knowing full well it would chip off and was heavily unnecessary, but he only smiled and let you continue doing it as long as it didn’t interfere with enchantments.

Each day with Wilbur became better and better, but your heart physically couldn’t take it any longer, you had to tell him that you felt this way for him… The way that you had to fight back the reddening of your cheeks when his chest pressed against your back as he adjusted your stance in training, or the way you had to struggle to regulate your breathing every time he complimented you on how far you had come…

He was going to be the death of you…

Your already calloused hands were bruised and blistered, but somehow, you were still able to hold a quill, pinched in between the fingers of your dominant hand. Wilbur had come to your Pogtopia home this morning, but upon realizing that he had knocked you to the ground a little too hard yesterday as you were incredibly stiff and sore, he let you have the day off of training.

This was at least a little chance… You had torn a page from your notebook and sat down at your handmade desk with a bitter sigh. Trust me, you wanted to tell him in person, but you were just too scared… Plus, maybe you could play it off as someone pulling a prank on him if it went south.

Biting your lip, your fingers treated the quill as a brush, delicately running the ink dipped tip over the top of the paper, letting your heart control what words you wanted the ink to form.

Wilbur,

You don't realize how much you mean to me. Although we've been friends for only a year, I feel as though I've known you my entire life. My connection to you is already so deep, and my love for you is already so strong that I can't remember what my life was like before we met. Even more, I can't imagine my life without you now. I can't imagine the future without you, either.

You have saved my life several times already. You have even saved me from myself several times, too! I am so thankful for your guidance and care. Whenever I'm having a bad day, I know that I can just give you a call. I know I can depend on you and, with your help, everything will turn out well.

I want you to know how I really feel. It's time for you to know that I'm ready to admit how much I care for you, how much you mean to me. I know, this isn’t the best timing in our lives, but I trust it will get better through your leadership. I love you, Wilbur.

Please, don't ever forget how much I love you.

Love, (Y/n) (L/n)

Sighing, you put the quill into the inkpot and put your head in your bandaged hands. ‘This is going to work. It will work. Go on. Have faith in yourself, as Wil said…’ You took a few deep breaths and stood up, picking up the letter once it was dry and reading it over as many times as you physically could before your mind couldn’t handle it any longer.

Walking to the door, you cracked it open to search for any sign of your president, sighing again as you realized he was likely out helping gather resources. “Is… This enough?” You mumbled sadly as you stared down at the simple letter before looking at your Enderchest in thought. Surely you could give him a few emeralds or some gold… Yeah! That’s what you’d do! Smiling in victory, you quickly wandered over to the chest and opened it, digging through it for a few moments.

It was sort of empty…

You groaned as you remembered that you haven’t really been one of the miners or forgers for Pogtopia. Instead, you were one of the warriors, focused on protecting others instead of gathering supplies.

Going to shut the chest, you suddenly paused as you saw something colourful resting at the bottom. Pushing aside your old L’Manberg uniform, you gasped as you found your old painting of Wilbur from a few months ago. It was old, yes, and a little dusty but you were still proud of it even now! Perfect.

Pulling out the painting, you began to lightly brush the dust off of the picture, smiling at the splashes of paint and colour forming a picture. It was your magnum opus.

It was a painting of Wilbur holding up a massive L’Manberg flag against the sunlight with a wide smile and hope in his eyes… This was the day that L’Manberg won independence from DreamSMP…

Standing up again, you quickly hurried out the door and walked to Wilbur’s room, silently creaking open the door and looking around, even though you were well aware that he was gone for the day. You walked over to his desk and gently setting the painting down on top of the countless sheets of work, making sure not to mix up any of the papers, then putting your letter on top where he could see it before hurrying out before you could change your mind.

Thankfully you got out when you did because, by the time you pulled an already baked potato out of the furnace, Wilbur came down the stone stairs, looking extremely exhausted, “(Y/n), my artiste…” He murmured with a smile, “I’m glad to see you’re still up and going… I was worried we would have to make you a healing pot.”

“It’s not too bad… It’s mostly just my hands that hurt.” You chuckled and held up your shaking bandaged hands, “You want me to cook you up some potatoes and carrots? Or I could maybe try and get some steak cooked up before you go to work?”

Wilbur tried to smile a bit, deciding not to question why your hands were shaking so badly, taking everything out of his inventory and placing them in their designated chests. “No, no… It’s alright. I’m going to go get ready for Tubbo’s report… I’ll see you later tonight, okay?”

You gave him a small wave before Wilbur disappeared into his office. Taking a sharp intake of breath, you quickly followed after him and peeked through the tiny crack in the door where he didn’t close it all the way. He stood in his room silently for a moment before throwing his hat off at a wall, screaming into hands, muffling it heavily to the point where you wouldn’t have heard it if you were still near the furnaces. Wilbur threw off his jacket before plopping himself into his chair with his head in his hands for a few moments, then lifting it to stare at the painting that you had placed.

He was still for a long time, then he slowly picked up the note, his eyes softened slightly before his face broke out into a wide and genuinely happy smile before his mouth twitched and the smile began to fall, tears bubbling into his chocolate coloured eyes. Wilbur held the note up to his chest and slouched back against his chair, sobbing into his hand, whispering ‘I’m so sorry’ repeatedly.

Frowning, you realized that he physically couldn’t return your love because of the stress of caring for Pogtopia and trying to win back L’Manberg. With a sad smile, you stood up and walked to your room, putting your head down as you saw water droplets hit the stone below you, “It wasn’t a no…” You tried to tell yourself, ignoring the tears running from your eyes as you shut the door, sliding down to your knees.

The next few weeks after that were hell, the complete opposite of the Utopia that you were blinded by for the past month. Wilbur asked Techno to pick up your training, and he never even spoke to you about it again… It was the Piglin hybrid that awkwardly told you. During dinner, Wilbur would practically eat as little as possible as he ignored you, trying to make any situation where he would be in the same room as you as short as possible.

“Wil-...” You reached out to the president but watched as he only gave you the saddest gaze before walking past you as if he never saw you. But he would have no problems talking to Niki, or anyone else! It wasn’t fair!

Time ticked by in a haze of fog and you quickly watched the man you had once fallen in love with becoming a complete shadow of his former self… It was sickening… He… Lost it… His mind was becoming twisted… And all you could do was watch in horror…

You knew something was wrong when he crept away from the festival and the celebration… But you just decided that he was going to take a break from the excitement. He was quite old after all…

Then the ground shook with booming roars as TNT blew craters into the earth, sending debris scattering and people screaming, scattering for their lives. Gasps of terror escaped your lips as you realized the cause of it all… You hopped over gunpowder scented broken stone and batted the smoke away as you saw the final picture to paint the last stroke of horror in your heart.

There was a blond man with massive avian wings holding a diamond sword glimmering with enchantments as the brunet clung to his clothing, slowly sinking to his knees. With a sob of despair, you watched the man you once loved so dearly, get stabbed through the chest by his own father.

“WILBUR!” You shrieked, your ears ringing from the blast as you sunk to your knees, sobs racking your frame violently. Wilbur’s head lazily rolled to look in your direction…

And in his last dying breath… He smiled…

-

“That painting…” A light airy whisper echoed through the darkened stone halls of your home, “It’s familiar… Yet so foreign...”

You gave a hum as you hung your netherite armour on your stand before turning to stare at the spectral figure floating in your doorway, “Which painting, Ghostbur? There’s many… You have to elaborate.”

“Right! Because you’re an artiste!” The transparent male chirped happily, not seeming to notice your flinch, “I mean the one hanging above the fireplace, of Alivebur.”

“Right…” You nodded, following behind the eager sweater-wearing ghost down the eerie hallways and into the office, "I'm going to take it down... I think it's doing more harm than good..."

Ghostbur didn't seem to understand your reasoning, but he didn't say much, knowing that Alivebur hurt many people... But he didn't think he hurt you, "It's pretty though... But your art style has changed, in a good way though!" He smiled softly as you opened the large dark oak double doors.

You walked past your grand dark oak desk to stare at your former magnum opus, dangling above the unlit fireplace. "Hey, Bur, if you have a flint and steel, could you light the fire please?" You glanced over and watched him nod as he dug through his pockets. In the meantime, you climbed up onto the mantle and began to struggle to pull the canvas off the wall. With a bit of hassle, you managed to pull it down and toss it onto the ground before climbing down, just in time for your ghost friend to light the fire.

"Don't damage it, (N/n)! It's still really good!" Ghostbur scolded you with a pout once you hopped down and picked the canvas up, "And you used to be proud of it!"

"I'm not, don't fret too m-" You paused mid-sentence as you saw a letter tucked into the bottom corner of the back of the painting. Frowning in confusion, you slowly picked it up and turned it over into your hand, only to discover that it was addressed to you in fancy cursive, sealed with a light red and white wax seal, "What's this?"

He looked over at you and tilted his head, seeming almost as genuinely confused as you were. Ghostbur shrugged as you propped the painting up against the wall before sitting at your desk, using your letter opener for its purpose, "Love letter, perhaps?"

"I doubt it..." You mumbled softly as you carefully unfolded the paper, recognizing that it was probably a few years old, "Let's see... Who wrote this..." You hummed before beginning to read.

My darling artiste... I'm sure by the time you read this, I'm either dead or... Well, most likely dead, if all goes to plan...

I am writing this letter to you to let you know that life without you is not the same. Life without you is very sad and lonely. I have realised that it was you who keep me alive and cheerful.

I thought I would get used to your absence from my life, but every day has been harder when I think of all the good times we spent together.

There are so many things which I want to confess. It's killing me because I don't want you to go another day without knowing how I feel about you.

And I'm not able to tell you I'm in love with you.

What an idiot I am.

And for the past few days, I've been trying to figure out, why there aren't some words to describe it. I want to tell you exactly how I feel but there isn't a single goddamned word in the entire dictionary that can describe my love for you.

But I need that word. I need it because I want you to hear me say “I love You". I want to make the sweetest gestures in front of you which make you feel even more loved.

Trust me... I know... I act like an absolute ass towards you. I'm so scared of your life being in more danger than it was... I really did love you, and still do, but I didn't want it to hurt you more when I blow up L'Manberg...

Darling, I could have simply called you on your communicator and took you out on a surprise date but I couldn't have expressed my feelings. You have become an integral part of me. I want to give you all my love throughout my life.

The painting you made me is beautiful and I will cherish it for as long as I'm alive... It's a perfect picture of imperfection...

I Love You, (Y/n), even if by now you'll never love me back.

- Wilbur Soot

"That... That idiot..." You whispered, holding your head in your hands in an attempt to hide the tears from Ghostbur, "He planned blowing up L'Manberg from the beginning... That's why he refused to acknowledge me after I... He wanted me to hate him..."

Ghostbur held a bit of blue in his hands tightly, avoiding your gaze as you murmured to yourself, "Yeah... Most of my happiest memories involve you... That's why I couldn't understand when you said Aliverbur hated you..." He glanced away again as he saw you look at him.

"(Y/n)... Are you ever going to move out of Pogtopia?"

"Probably not for a long time, Ghostbur."

[tbr-agency]

Got7′s fans summarize 7 moments that made them fall in love more with JYPE’s exclusive bodyguards.

In March of 2019, JYP Entertainment announced that they had teamed up with the law enforcement group which is now a well-known agency as MMG Agency.

At first, MMG Agency’s team was supposed to be guarding JYP Entertainment boy group, GOT7.  But after a few months, JYP Entertainment had MMG Agency’s team working for JYPE artists, after seeing excellence services by the bodyguards.

Then in early 2020, JYP Entertainment had introduced MMG Agency’s team which now are called as MMG Units and the one that is working closely with JYPE artists are The Bloody Roses.

It gained massive attention from JYPE fans, especially Got7 fans.

Now these are the 7 moments of Got7′s bodyguard and Got7 themselves that got fans fangirling.

1. Got7′s Mark and his bodyguard,

We all know that Dispatch exposed Mark and his bodyguard in September of 2019. Though Got7′s Mark hasn’t written any letter to the fans nor JYP Entertainment confirming their relationship, Ahgases was sure that these two are a couple after seeing the times when they hang out together. 

With the pictures that were exposed by Dispatch, we could tell that Mark really loves his bodyguard and seeing how happy he looks with her in the pictures, his bodyguard now called maybe-girlfriend since both the company and Mark hasn’t confirmed the relationship, she really makes him happy. 

There were a few rare times that she would be in Mark’s instagram story and one memorable ones when they were out for lunch. The couple were dressed in casual and the caption was “Accompany her for lunch,” then zooming onto his order of food and her face.

Fans noticed that she was wearing a NIS jacket and fans found out that all Got7’s bodyguards were now working with NIS.

2. Got7′s JB’s bodyguard being shy and pouty with his bodyguard,

Fans were amazed on how Got7’s Jb looks whenever he is with his bodyguard. On stage and with his members, Jb sometimes had that serious leader moment but if he is with his bodyguard, it turns out that he is the opposite.

Jb would always seem to have that shy and pouty look whenever he is with his bodyguard. He would always stick by her side whenever they were in an airport. Fans have captured moments when Jb would hold onto her shoulders in a moment when fans were crowding them.

Fansites have also captured times when Jb would frown and pout towards his bodyguard when she was walking away from him. It was said from one of his fansites that he was begging his bodyguard to buy 3 bottles of strawberry milk but his bodyguard would jokingly ask him to buy by himself causing the leader to pout and frown.

Fans find this funny and cute since they get to see this side of Jb other than seeing his cute side when he is with his own members. 

Ahgases knew that Jb really cared for his bodyguard when he posted an instagram story of her in her uniform. Fans figured out from his bodyguard’s agency website that his bodyguard graduated from CIA University.

3. Got7′s Jackson being clingy with his bodyguard,

Ahgases voted these two to have the cutest relationship between an idol and a bodyguard. We all know there were moments where Got7′s Jackson would spot to be clingy with his own members so it is no surprise when fans saw how clingy Jackson is with his own bodyguard.

Fansites would capture moments when Jackson was linking arms with his bodyguard with another member which is either Bambam or Yugyeom linking the other arm of Jackson’s bodyguard. Fans find it hilarious as the face shows how his bodyguard is feeling with just how the way she expressed herself. 

Fansites captured the frown she had on her face as she looked at both members but as soon as Jackson looked at her, she would raise an eyebrow and Jackson would innocently look at her.

Another moment was when on the way to MusicBank, Jackson was spotted to meet with his bodyguard in the carpark area and it seems that his bodyguard was carrying a bag that had his belongings. Fans captured a moment when Jackson had a poker face as he was holding onto his bodyguard wrist, dragging her into the building while waving towards fansites with a thin-line smile.

4. Got7′s Jinyoung moments with his beautiful bodyguard,

Fans voted these two to be the most good looking idol-bodyguard. We all know how Got7′s Jinyoung looks like when he is serious, we have seen him conversing with the other members and in dramas - when he is being serious.

Fansites captured moments of Jinyoung and his bodyguard having a serious discussion right outside JYP Entertainment's new headquarters. Though fans were curious on what both of them were talking about, some fans were amazed on how beautiful Jinyoung’s bodyguard looked up-close in pictures.

Some fans were looking up-close on Jinyoung's look, leaning against the glass window of JYPE headquarters, frowning with folded arms while staring at his bodyguard who was explaining rather seriously.

Fansites also captured moments when his bodyguard was with Jinyoung on one fine morning. From the picture, it looks like Jinyoung was grabbing a cup of coffee with his bodyguard as they walk side-by-side - somehow not minding the cameras, instead Jinyoung waved towards the fan sites and told them to be careful.

What made fans adore his bodyguard  is that for the first time, they were allowed to take pictures of Jinyoung - with the permission of Jinyoung himself looking casual as he was wearing a snapback and black shades.

5. Got7′s Youngjae’s bodyguard stops staff from being harsh towards fans during fan-signs

We all know that Got7′s Youngjae is an angel and a sunshine to his fans and it was no surprise that his bodyguard has the same traits as him. The difference is it seems that his bodyguard is more badass and more straight-forward when it comes to confronting people, not that Youngjae isn’t straight-forward - we have moments when Youngjae confronts sasaengs.

Youngjae’s bodyguard was seen to have an argument with the staff that in-charge of the fansign that day. To cut time, the staff forced fans to hurry interacting with the Got7 members. Got7 being angels ignored the staff and continued the fan-sign with their own pace but this made staff to be more harsh towards the fans.

The staff could have spoken in polite words but it seems he was being and fans could see some of the members frowning and turning towards the staff. This was when Youngjae’s bodyguard stepped in with her hands in her leather jacket - watching the scene then finally spoke her words.

“You know, since you are forcing them to hurry up and have 2 minutes talk with Got7, might as well turn this originally-to-be-fansign to be a high-touch right? You got to at least give the fans 5 minutes. That was too short. I counted it as 2 minutes for one fan, dude.”

The members were trying not to smile nor chuckle - hearing how straightforward Youngjae’s bodyguard is. Youngjae could only smile widely as he silently nodded towards his bodyguard. 

All fans were thankful for Youngjae’s bodyguard that day.

6. Got7′s Bambam giving words of encouragement to his bodyguard and posting a picture of his bodyguard on twitter,

Fans admired these two as they were seen to have an idol-bodyguard relationship as best friends. We all know Got7′s Bambam has a group chat with the 97 liners and Bambam reveals that his childhood friend is BlackPink Lisa.

Fans were happy that he made friends with his own bodyguard and her team. Fans could tell they were close since Bambam posted a tweet and a picture of his bodyguard - not to mention that it was somehow an unglam picture of his bodyguard.

“Cheer up and be confident! Good luck on your final exam and come back to Korea asap! We can have some mango sticky rice and toast with the other hyungs as soon as you arrive here!”

It seems that he posted a picture of his bodyguard who looks like she isn’t aware that the picture was being taken. 

Fans figured out that his bodyguards’ team were studying abroad since Bambam mentioned her to come back and fans found out that Bambam’s bodyguard and the rest of the member’s bodyguard were in Virginia, the state where they attended university.

7. Got7′s Yugyeom was seen with his bodyguard in public libraries looking pouty,

It was revealed by fans that he was having a private time since there was no manager with him, instead he was with his bodyguard. We all are not surprised that Got7′s Yugyeom reads since his own members have posted pictures of the maknae reading a book - with captions that were obviously teasing the tall maknae.

Fans captured pictures of Yugyeom walking behind his bodyguard while quietly whining and somehow wanting his bodyguard’s attention as she was looking at books. It seems that the tall maknae was being whiny and pouty that day.

Fans said that they could hear him saying “Can we just order it online?” “You read this kind of book? It looks scary!” “Oh! I didn’t know libraries have these kinds of books!” 

Fans were shocked to see that Yugyeom’s bodyguard were into law and science since the books were obviously related to those subjects but they weren’t too surprised since Got7’s bodyguards were all working under the law enforcements.

Fans also stated that Yugyeom in the end was so engrossed with how his bodyguard explained to him with each book he picked up and asked her. Now we all get to know that Yugyeom’s bodyguard is a book-worm.

So Ahgases wasn't too surprised if all of them were considered as close friends since the bodyguards are all revealed to have different personalities.

Which idol-bodyguard do you think has the cutest friendship/relationship?

masterlist : Got7 Bodyguard Au

[managodess]

Title: First Impressions Fandom: Original (AU setting) Characters: Felyx and Maya (Felyx belongs to AnonMS on Gaiaonline, Maya is my OC) Words: 1.9k Rating: E Prompt: Person A is at college, has some free time, finds a quiet spot to curl up and take a nap. When they wake, they find Person B, an art student, drawing them (without asking permission first). You choose where it goes from there.

Prompt by @otpprompts can be found here

Note: This was written in 2015 but I still think it’s cute and noticed I never posted it here.

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

As the minute hand drew onto the 45-minute mark, the teacher in the front of their little class of twenty people glanced up, casting the group a smile.

“That’s it for today then. If you have any questions, feel free to ask me now or come to my office later. And don’t forget, your portfolios are due at the end of the semester.”

It was only just November, which meant that Maya had until March, but nonetheless, her teacher’s words were a reminder that she should probably get started. The requirement was showing off different traditional media and while there were some that came to her more easily – she loved working with watercolors more than anything – there were others she still had to practice with to feel more confident.

And so, casting a short glance outside and shuddering lightly at the sight of the pale grey sky that looked like incoming snow, she headed into the library, bag over her shoulder, sketchbook under her arm. She might as well start practicing some pencil sketches now; she could refine some with charcoal, colored pencils, or just shade them otherwise. Maybe she’d find some inspiration.

 As she had expected, it was quiet, something that she always found rather soothing about being here. Soft footsteps announced presence her as she made her way to a table in the back of the study room, settling down and trying to make as little noise as possible. She retrieved a small leather case, which held different pencils, pens and other general sketching supplies, then moved her sketchbook onto her lap, vivid blue eyes trailing around the room for something that might make her hands itch to sketch.

When they had nearly come full circle, she noticed a figure, huddled into a corner, head tilted back a little. Even with the dark strands falling partially into his face, she could make out his features.

‘Wow… he looks really good.’

 Absently, the brunette bit her lip, leaning forward a bit in her seat as her fingers moved through the pages until she found one that was still empty.

She had hoped to find inspiration, but really, it seemed as if inspiration had found her instead.

Her normally light brown braids were dangling against the paper, which explained the blotches of color in them considering her preferred medium.

Slender fingers on small hands drew the pencil over the page in her sketchbook with trained movements. A gesture first, getting down the general shape of the figure in front of her, vague, guidelines. Then, details, fleshing out his pose and body, the slight tug of fabric in parts of his attire that hinted towards him being at least somewhat muscular. His hands, which looked a little roughened, as if he worked with them often, one of them dangling limply just past his knee, the other propping up his face just above his nose.

And finally, her gaze wandered to his face, biting down on her bottom lip harder as she focused on this. The angular line of his jaw, the slight tilt of his lips, the serenity of his expression.

Just as she was sketching in more detail for his hair, she noticed a shift, more than the simple tremble of breathing.

Dark, reddish eyes were looking at her and she could feel her pale face heat up, eyes widening in shock. For a moment, he seemed confused, still in a state of waking and she took her chance, tearing the sketch from her book and thrusting it against his chest.

“Wha-…”

“I’msosorryherekeepit.”

Her words came out in one breath before she hastily grabbed her things, clutching her sketchbook closer and rushing out of the library in a half panic.

 The male seemed to need another few seconds to fully wake, hands shifting to grab the paper that had been forced onto him and glancing down, surprised to see himself caught on it, in soft, elegant lines thinly sketched with a pencil.

While he hadn’t remembered all aspects the strange girl’s appearance, a few things had stuck. Blue eyes and specks of color in her hair, her braids mostly. Then that look of shock, but she had run out before he had been able to fully commit her face to memory.

This wouldn’t do…

He let out a small sigh, stretching carefully, joints cracking as they slipped back into their proper places. He moved the picture into one of his textbooks, placing it gingerly between the pages so it wouldn’t get crumpled.

His mind had immediately jumped to the one person he was sure would be able to tell him more about the mysterious artist.

He just had to find her.

There were a few places she would spend her time outside of class, but the problem was that he never quite knew when she was or wasn’t in class and truthfully, waiting until the weekend, when he would definitely see her, seemed too far away right now.

Reaching into the front pocket of his dark jeans, he retrieved his phone, fingers quickly moving across the keys on screen before sending off a message.

He didn’t have to wait long to notice a familiar, dark-haired woman enter the library and make her way towards him. Her hair gave off a blue shimmer against the light and violet eyes, no doubt contacts, stood out against her porcelain skin.

Felyx wasn’t surprised to see her draw some looks from other students in the library, who glanced up from whatever they were doing a little too long, but either she didn’t notice or didn’t care.

“You called?”

 Her lips curled into a small, though curious smile and she sat down on the table, legs crossed over the edge of the table.

“Here.”

He handed her the sketch, brow furrowed slightly. “You study art… any idea who made this?”

The female’s eyes scanned across the pencil lines, then moved back up to meet his red ones. “I’d recognize those lines anywhere. That looks like one of Maya’s sketches. She specializes in watercolors… Is that… wow.”

“I’m guessing she was sketching me while I was asleep because she left me with this and ran away when I woke up.”

Mosune laughed, a soft, melodic sound.

“I don’t think she was expecting you to wake up. Anyway, we have class together again on Thursday. So that’s three days from now. Room 104, in the back building. Class ends at noon; the teacher always finishes on time. You should be able to catch her then.”

“You’re a lifesaver.”

“I know.” She smiled at him and got to her feet again elegantly. “I’ll see you soon. You owe me.”

“I know.” He cast her a smirk and watched her leave before sinking back down against the wall, in the same spot he’d slept in. His eyes trailed over the sketch, taking in every little detail. It was amazing how well she had captured him… and he hadn’t even noticed her watching him.

  For the rest of the day and the entire next day, Maya found herself glancing around a lot more often, as if worried that the male might be waiting for her somewhere. To what? Complain that she had stalked him?

God… she must have seemed like such a creep.

 But by the time Thursday came, she had pushed the event to the back of her mind, focused on other things. Their morning class was a practical one, working with acrylics on canvas.

She chose an easel next to a familiar face, smiling at the girl with the violet eyes.

“Hey Mosune.”

“Hi.”

The other smiled right back at her, pinning her raven hair up in a bun.

“Any idea what they want us to paint today?”

“A still life or something.” Maya frowned ever so slightly. “Seems a bit boring, don’t you think?”

“I’m sure today’s gonna end up less boring than you think.” Mosune replied, smiling back at her.

Throughout their painting assignment, the two continued to talk, until finally, the teacher ended their class, giving them time to clean their workspaces and palettes.

 It was noon by the time they made their way out of the classroom and Maya found herself greeted by the familiar but unexpected sight of the boy she’d drawn in the library a few days ago. He was moving fast towards her too, holding a frame in his hands and handing it to her as he approached.

“Here. You should keep this, it’s really good.” He cast her a small smirk and she felt the familiar warmth threaten to creep into her cheeks.

“T-thanks.”

She took the frame, holding it so the picture was concealed from view by a few classmates curiously moving past the two of them. Mosune seemed almost amused by this exchange, Maya noticed.

“Maybe I’ll see you soon.” And with that, he took his leave, leaving behind a somewhat confused brunette and her amused friend.

“Is that the guy you mentioned? Looks like he even framed it for you.”

Maya nodded, head lowering a bit to hide her burning cheeks.

“God this is so embarrassing.” She muttered under her breath. “Don’t tell anyone, alright?”

“Of course not.” Mosune promised, smiling, and drawing an arm around her friend’s shoulder.

 The moment she got home; Maya hung the framed picture up on the wall of her dorm.

But it wasn’t until nearly two weeks later that a completely random event brought her to pay more attention to it than usual.

Distracted from trying to find something, she tripped over her bag, bumping heavily against the wall. The impact knocked the frame down and it shattered, leaving the sketch to slip beneath her bed. She crawled down to get it and when she did, she noticed something on the back of it.

“Is that…”

A phone number.

So that was why he had spoken about hoping to see her again.

 Once she had cleaned up, she retrieved her phone, quickly typing in a message to the not quite so unknown number.

“Hi! Looks like you hid this a bit better than you probably thought. I’d love to meet up, maybe for coffee? The girl with the sketchbook.”

 Her attention shifted back to the sketch and a thought formed in her mind as she spread it carefully onto her desk across a layer of newspaper, grabbing her watercolors.

Without even having to think, her hands drew across the paper, adding color to the pencil lines, even without having to see him. His face was ingrained in the back of her head.

It took her about two hours to finish the sketch and only then did she check her phone to see that he had replied.

 “Sure!

How does tomorrow afternoon sound? I’ll meet you at the Corner Cup?”

She sent him a quick answer, setting the time at 2 PM, then laid the picture down to dry. Time couldn’t pass fast enough and by the time the next day had arrived, Maya was more excited than she dared to admit.

As her fingers nimbly worked to put the familiar two braids into her hair, her eyes moved back to the now finished painting. She would take it with her, give it to him. And hopefully, he would accept it. A small, tiny voice in her head muttered about how it was a shame; that the painting would look amazing in her portfolio, but she silenced it. No, this would be better.

[rike-with-love]

Melody of our Hearts (chapter 2)

Author’s notes: Here’s the second chapter as my apology for being MIA for so long!!

Pairings: Okikagu, Gintsu (minor), Takaban (minor)

Rating: M for mature content, bad language, fluff, light angst, enemies to friends to lovers

Disclaimer: I don't own Gintama or it's characters, Sorachi Hideaki does. I only own this story.

Chapter 2

<- Previous Chapter ~~  Next Chapter ->

”So the stage is reserved for us from 4pm to 6pm.”

”Okay,” Gintoki said to his loyal assistant, Shimura Shinpachi as he presented a piece of document in front of the silver haired CEO.

”And Kawakami-nim will take care of the soundtracks as we spoke earlier,” Shinpachi said and placed another paper on the desk.

Before Gintoki could answer him, third, fourth and even fifth paper was gently swiped to rest on the wooden surface.

”Here are the receipts we need to copy for our accountants – here's the official approval from the city to hold the concert – here's a bill of the advertisement for the concert.”

Shinpachi's words spiralled through Gintoki's ears, so much to remember and so much more to do. ”Oi oi,”, he wailed. Then, from the corner of Gintoki's eye, he saw yet another paper coming. ”Ne! Shinpachi!”

”What is it Sakata-nim?” Shinpachi asked and straightened his almost oval-shaped glasses.

”Please, you can call me Gintoki”, the man said, discreetly guiding the conversation to somewhere else. ”I'm not that into the honorifics.”

”But Sakata-nim, you're my boss now. I don't want anyone to think that I'm disrespecting you.”

Gintoki turned with his chair towards the young black-haired man. ”Shinpachi, we've been friends for years, you don't have to worry about that”, he said. ”Just leave the honorifics for the public stuff, ne?”

Shinpachi smiled and his brown eyes sparkled. ”I guess I can do that...Gintoki”, he said.

There was no-one who could call the young man rude in any way. He was a polite and hard-working person, someone Gintoki could really count on.

Shinpachi was also quite good with computers. Actually he was a lot better than Gintoki could ever imagine. In addition to his diligentness and computer skills, he had a decent sense of style. Actually he was the one who made Gintoki dress like a boss should.

Gintoki's taste in clothes was pretty casual, so he went with a white dress shirt and a light grey suit. A tie was an enigma he wasn't ready for, but maybe someday in the distant future.

Shinpachi on the other hand liked to dress up. He wore a light blue dress shirt with a beige cotton vest. He also claimed that his pants were dark blue rather than black, but no-one really cared.

Gintoki felt like he had successfully turned the tides of the conversation. But he was wrong, oh so wrong.

”Now, can we get back on the preparations of the concert?” Shinpachi asked, he knew very well his bosses lazy agendas.

”Haha, certainly”, Gintoki said with a forced smile.

Shinpachi flashed his shiniest smile and began to bombard Gintoki with documents. As the papers kept piling up, the easy-going CEO got lost in his thoughts.

Gintoki had always known it wasn't a cakewalk to run a business, especially not a record label, but that was the exact reason he had hired people to work for him. For Gintoki's salvation and headache, his employees worked faster than his mellow brain could adapt.

Maybe I could hire someone to be the boss so I could just jump on a plane and enjoy some parfaits under the sun in Bahamas, Gintoki thought to himself.

Not that he could afford a trip to the Bahamas. Or a plane. Or a parfait for that matter. More importantly, if Gintoki would distant himself from the company, he wouldn't be able to help Kagura in achieving her dreams as an idol. He was his manager after all.

When the Yorozuya Entertainment was founded, it was difficult to just get by. It took time to find idols, it took time to make music. There wasn't a possibility to hire more people and that was the exact reason Gintoki decided to become the manager for the label's idols. Just for the time being anyway, he had said. To get things started you know, he had also added.

The voice of Shinpachi finally snapped Gintoki out of his trip down memory lane and the pressing worry of the massive loan he had taken for the company.

”A bill from the security firm – a bill from the equipments we bought for the concert – a bill from the fabrics...”

Shinpachi's words sounded all the same to Gintoki. Why am I so lousy with these things, Gintoki thought to himself.

”GINTOKI!” A loud shout came from the door, startling both Gintoki and Shinpachi momentarily.

At the door was non-other than Shimura Tae, the head of public relations of YE, the older sister of Shinpachi and the one keeping Gintoki's laziness in check. ”I need you to sign these papers right now,” she said with a ominiously calm smile.

Tae, who more commonly went by Otae was a sharp young woman. After moving to Seoul she had graduated from business school with impressive papers.

Otae was one of the first persons Gintoki wanted to hire, she was a ball of endless ideas with an unwavering drive to make them happen. There wasn't anyone who could have been a better fit for the head of PR than her.

She looked very similar to her little brother, aside from her brown hair and her not needing any glasses. She liked to wear a tight pencil skirts and a matching blouse. Today's colors were purple and white.

Otae had shoulder length hair, often worn in a neat ponytail. She had bangs to frame her petite face nicely. Also, she wasn't shy with accessories, usually sporting a tiny scarf around her neck with a matching color as the rest of her outfit.

”Hello ane-ue*!” Shinpachi said. The siblings were originally from Japan, so they liked to refer to each other in Japanese. Sometimes it was funny to observe when the two got into an argument and the language switched immediately back to home shore.

”Hello Shin-chan*, did you give Gintoki all the papers?” Otae asked and pushed a dark brown strand of hair behind her ear.

”Almost there”, Shinpachi chuckled and rubbed the back of his neck a little.

As the Shimuras chatted, Gintoki was halfway sliding down from his chair.

”Uh, Gintoki?” Otae asked.

A single call of his name froze Gintoki right up. Otae had a flair in her voice, soothing but chilling at the same time. A perfect voice for tortu-...uh...negotating with people.

”Yes, Otae?” Gintoki asked and magically sat up while casually fixing the sleeves from his shirt.

”Would you mind signing this?” Otae asked and tapped a piece of paper with her pen. ”It's a permission to-”

Gintoki raised his hand at Otae, who stopped talking out of surprise. It was rare for Gintoki to act all bossy and condescending towards employees, friends – towards anyone really.

”Me and Shinpachi here,” Gintoki said and began to fondle the documents on his desk. ”We're a little busy at the moment.”

Gintoki didn't have anything against the adamant woman, he just wasn't in the mood to handle another important matter. It was probably something urgent as it came from her.

Shinpachi glanced at his boss with wide eyes. All of a sudden Gintoki was very into the paperwork.

”Yes, thank you for taking things seriously for once,” Shinpachi said.

Gintoki looked at the young man standing next to him. ”But I always do.”

”No you don't.”

”Nope, not even little bit.”

Gintoki huffed. He knew they were right, but he also wanted to be the boss. ”I'll forgive you this time, okay?” he said. Both Shimuras nodded as they were trying to take him seriously and Gintoki took what he got.

”Alright Shinpachi, give me all the details,” Gintoki said and actually took one paper into his hands.

”Ah, wait,” Shinpachi said and searched the stack of papers he was holding. ”Just one more.”

Gintoki elevated one hand, ready to receive the last document. ”Take your time Shinpachi.”

”Hah! Here!” Shinpachi cheered and offered the paper to Gintoki. ”Here's the rent-”

Gintoki moved like a shadow the second he heard the word 'rent'. Before anyone could say another word, Gintoki had grabbed his gray jacket from his chair and suddenly stood next to Otae, carefully examining the permission note she tried to offer him a moment later.

”I'm in a meeting right now Shinpachi, take care of those for me”, Gintoki said and walked out of the office with Otae.

”Heeeyyy!” Shinpachi yelled after them, a vain effort that he pretty much new from the start. ”You can't run from the rent forever!”

*

*

It had been a busy week at the YE building. After the release of Kagura's first single, Eli & Zura and Sugar Addicts released their first singles as well. Otae's PR plan for the company was to come out to the k-pop scene with a bang. Three new artists debuting at once was a real bang to say the least.

On top of everything, the free outdoor concert was well on its way. Almost everything had been taken care of, but Gintoki was a ball of stress on every single little detail. Yes, he appeared that he didn't care or had any interest on the matter, but that was just his defence mechanism. Honestly, he felt a little overwhelmed by the paperwork and stuff like that, but he cared.

Luckily he had Otae and Shinpachi. They were a power house together - and separately. They took care of running errands, permissions, equipments, all of that. This way Gintoki could focus better on the idols or as he so endearingly called the 'moneymakers'.

Gintoki helped everyone to prepare with the best of his ability. He wasn't a singer or a dancer, but he was a long time fan on k-pop. Yes, he was a grown man in his late twenties, but that didn't stop him from enjoying the music.

Gintoki understood showmanship, he was good at looking at the big picture, but he needed help with all the separate parts to build the idols into a functioning package.

Sugar Addicts had a member called Tsuu, going by the stage name Otsu. She had been dancing for several years. She sort of became the unofficial choreographer of the group and pretty much a choreographer for the whole company.

Apart from Sugar Addicts, none of the other idols had any prior professional dancing experience. However with Gintoki and Otsu's help, the rest of the idols; Kagura and Zura & Eli were able to add enough movement for their performances to pop.

Kagura had the rhythm and she had the spark, but learning steps wasn't really her strong suit. Still, she was better in dancing than Eli & Zura, a duo consisting of Katsura ”Zura” Kotarou and Elizabeth ”Eli” Dragonia.

Zura was a peculiar rapper/singer and an old childhood friend of Gintoki's. He was...how to put this nicely...he was a total corky lovable weirdo. Zura did all the vocals for the duo and Eli, well Eli played a synthesizer*. He couldn't really participate with the vocals as the man was mute.

When Gintoki was trying to get Zura to join his label, he explained that all the music could be produced by computers, but Zura didn't really care. He had only one condition before signing any papers, Eli and him would form a duo together, no matter how weird it sounded to anyone.

Gintoki knew it was a risk, there wasn't anything like that in the k-pop scene, but Zura managed to convince Gintoki that they would become the next big thing, the k-pop version of Modern Talking*. It sounded too interesting for Gintoki to pass by, so he agreed to debut the duo.

It was still a mystery where Zura had found a mute man named Elizabeth, but they seemed to be inseperabtle friends despite it all.

After Kagura's demand on finding someone to help with the costumes for the idols, Gintoki found Tsukki. She was a talented stylist who never told anyone her full name, she just went by with Tsukki. She was a beautiful woman with blonde hair and sharp purpleish eyes. She also had a scar on her left eye , but no-one dared to ask anything about it.

Tsukki was a woman shrouded in mystery.

And what it came to making music, Gintoki was totally at loss. Luckily the company found a musical genius to work for them.

Kawakami Bansai, a graduate from Korean National University of Arts. He was a prodigy. The young man was courted by many big companies when he was close to graduating. His future promised great things for him, he could have worked for anyone in the entire music industry, that's how talented he was. But...after graduating, he simply vanished.

No-one ever knew why did he go or where did he go. Well, there was one person who knew why he disappeared, but that's a whole another story.

So how he ended up working in a new, rather unsure record label? Gintoki and Shinpachi didn't know Bansai or his background in music when they met him for the first time. The man was playing a shamisen* in a park, eyes hidden behind sunglasses, expression telling of his fondness for the instrument he was playing.

Gintoki liked his music and he asked if the man wanted a job. Bansai paused his song and looked into the silver-haired man's maroon eyes. There was nothing suspicious in the way the man looked at him. For some reason Bansai felt like trusting this man, thou he wasn't even sure what trust even meant anymore.

Only after Bansai signed his contract in Gintoki's office, he casually mentioned his degree in music. Gintoki practically and literally fell off his chair, how could he have known the man was a mastermind in music.

Otae suggested on upgrading his contract and salary, but Bansai refused. The only thing he desired was to make music without crazy expectations and no questions from his past. Gintoki and Otae both agreed to his terms, they would have been fools to decline.

And there it was, the group of people who together formed the Yorozuya Entertainment and Gintoki couldn't be any prouder.

*

*

In a nice cozy office/work space of Tsukki, a final fitting was well on its way. Kagura twirled in front of a mirror and admired her outfit for the concert.

”Well, what do you think Gura?” Tsukki asked.

Kagura had her long vermillion hair done with her signature look. Two small buns on top of her hair. It was like she had small round ears made from hair. The rest of the her puffy hair was flowing free, reaching all the way to her lower back.

The outfit Tsukki had sown for her was a perfect fit. Kagura had a red, off-shoulder shirt with long sleeves. Tsukki styled a high-wasted black cotton skirt to accentuate her small frame.

The skirt reached just over Kagura's knee, the length matching nicely with her black ankle boots. No heels was Kagura's only wish for Tsukki when the design for her outfit was being created.

”It's really pretty Tsukki, I love it,” Kagura said as she played with a black  velvet collar around her neck. It even had a cute golden heart in the middle.

Tsukuyo crossed her arms and smiled. ”I'm glad to hear that,” she said and walked to her desk.

It was hard to tell it was a desk from all the sewing equipments and drafts of clothing covering the whole thing. She really needed a bigger room to work in, Kagura thought, but she very well knew this was all they could afford at the moment.

”You were the last one to do a fitting, every costume is now done for the show.”

”You're very efficient, yes,” Kagura pointed out to the blonde woman wearing a black form-fitting suit, hair cut into a short bob to fit the look.

Tsukki hummed happily. ”It wasn't that big of a project, there's only eight idols to dress after all.”

”That's true,” Kagura said and returned to posing for the mirror.

Tsukki began to dig out some papers to deliver for Gintoki. Probably more bills to pay for the poor CEO.

”Tsukki?” Kagura asked and looked at the ever elegant woman through the mirror.

”Yes Gura?”

”Don't tell A-Gin...but I'm a little nervous about the concert.”

Tsukki lifted her gaze up. ”Why would you be nervous?”

”It's just that...the interview for the radio went well, but...”Kagura paused.

”But what?” Tsukki asked. She seemed to be seriously nervous. Sure, Tsukki hadn't known Kagura for a very long time, but the girl was like an open book when it came down to reading her emotions. She was one of the most confident and robust personalities Tsukki had ever seen, so seeing her falter worried her.

”You can talk to me,” Tsukki said and connected eyes with Kagura through the mirror.

”Well...this is the first time I'm performing live and...what if I screw it all up...”

Tsukki abandoned her papers and walked straight to Kagura. She placed her hands on her bare shoulders. ”Listen to me Gura”, Tsukki said in a really empowering voice. ”Look at the mirror.”

Kagura did as Tsukki said, and looked at her reflection. She sure looked like an idol...it felt almost surreal. ”What do you see?” Tsukki asked her.

”I see...me and you.”

”Yes, that's true. What else?”

”I see...your pretty clothes, yes.”

Tsukki shook her head a little. ”Those are not my clothes anymore, they're yours to wear, yours to feel confident in.”

”O-okay...” Kagura answered unsurely.

”You don't have anything to worry about Gura, you know you were born to command a stage.”

A smile sneaked on Kagura's pink lips. ���Uh-huh...”

”Just be yourself and sing the crowd into a bliss, okay,” Tsukki said and squeezed Kagura's shoulders slightly before letting go.

Kagura turned to look at Tsukki as she returned to her desk to get back to work. ”Hey...” Kagura said.

”What is it now?” Tsukki asked. She didn't even spare a look at Kagura, but that didn't bother the young starlet. Tsukki was all about keeping up a tough exterior, rarely allowing many feelings out.

”Thanks for the pep talk,” Kagura said.

Tsukki glanced at the redhead. She had a pleased look on her face, but it lasted only for a second. She's a complete softie inside, Kagura giggled to herself.

A knock on the door drawed the attention of both women in the room. ”Come in,” Tsukki said.

It was Gintoki coming in. ”Ne, how are we doing in here?” he asked and rolled his shoulders a little.

Kagura cocked an eyebrow. Was the ever lazy Gintoki being nervous. A thought of something being seriously wrong immediately crossed her mind. It was the day of the oblivion when Sakata Gintoki would stress openly about something.

Suddenly Tsukki turned her face away from the door. "We're doing perfectly fine here Sakata-nim," she almost mumbled.

”Uh, great...” Gintoki said and gulped a little.

Kagura stared at Tsukki for a moment. Where did the ever calm Tsukki went, she wondered. ”A-Gin...can we talk a little?” Kagura asked and walked closer to Gintoki.

”Oh, Kagura...I didn't see you there,” Gintoki said.

”What?” Kagura almost laughed.

”I-I mean of course I saw you there, that's not what I meant jeez...”

”Let's go already, yes”, Kagura said pulled her foster-father towards the door.

Tsukki cleared her throat behind her desk and tried to get up quickly. ”Before you go-” Tsukki said before she bumped her knee on the wooden table. "Tsk!"

"Tsukki!" Kagura called.

Gintoki moved by instict as he rushed to check on Tsukki. He went to her side to see if he could help in any way. "Are you okay?"

"It's nothing," she hissed and turned to Gintoki, who was closer to her than she had expected for him to be.

Kagura watched in complete silence as the usually super serious stylist slithered away from her desk, with a flushed face. Her completely black suit just made her blush more apparent.

"I-I'm fine," Tsukki said and tried to compose herself. "Uh, there's some documents for you on my desk Sakata-nim."

Kagura noticed a sudden shift in Gintoki's behaviour.

”Ne, Tsukki...when will you drop those unnecessary last names and stuff like that,” Gintoki said and leaned his right arm's elbow against the wall. ”You can call me Gintoki.”

Tsukki rolled her eyes at the surprisingly suave boss. Kagura felt equally amused by him as Tsukki was agitated.

Without any warning Tsukki grabbed Gintoki by his open jacket, never breaking eye-contact with Gintoki. ”Listen Sakata-nim,” she said, face still adorably pink. This felt like the right time to take a step back for Kagura.

”I-it's Gintoki.”

”For gods sake, do you understand you are my boss? I don't want to raise any rumours by calling you anything else than Sakata-nim."

Gintoki opened and closed his mouth like a confused goldfish in its glass bowl.

"Do you understand?" she snapped and shook him a little.

Gintoki laughed nervously at the woman. ”Ahaha...I know, I'm...I'm just joking...haha...” he said and slowly quieted his laughter down.

Tsukki let the man go and pointed her finger at the documents she was talking about.

Kagura was waiting outside Tsukki's office. She had seen and heard just about everything and all of it tickled her funny bone. ”Let's go A-Gin!” Kagura shouted to draw his full attention.

”Ah, yes! We have to go now. Have a nice day Tsukki!” Gintoki said and shut the door behind him as fast as he could.

Gintoki exhaled deeply through his mouth. Kagura crossed her arms and waited for him to say something and to try to explain himself out of everything that just happened.

”Well...?”

”Well what Kagura? We should be going already?” Gintoki hissed a little. ”We need to go and check out the stage at the park and-”

”No no no...wait”, Kagura grinned at the man. ”Do you have anything to tell me...anything at all?”

Kagura was a young woman with a quick mind. She was excellent at picking up on things, not that anything about Gintoki's behaviour was hard to read. She had known him for most of her life after all.

Gintoki squinted his eyes at Kagura. ”What are you talking about brat?”

Kagura rolled her eyes. ”Well you obviously have the hots for Tsuk-” Kagura's statement was muffled out by Gintoki's hand blocking her mouth.

”Shhhhhhhhhh! Shhhhhhhh! Someone could hear you”, Gintoki whispered. He wasn't actually blushing...but there was a some kind of glow on his cheeks.

”Mmmffhghmmmmm!” Kagura tried to point out.

”What?”

Kagura pushed his hand off her mouth and frowned at him. ”You heard me.”

”I don't know what you're talking about”, Gintoki brushed her words right off. ”You kids nowadays think you know everything.”

Kagura was familiar with Gintoki's ways of handling difficult situation. He wasn't old, but he was an old(er) soul to say the least. He began to blame the youth when it was about remote controllers, computers or crushes.

”So are we going to the park now?” Kagura asked, graciously pretending she hadn't pointed out anything.

Gintoki smiled at her. ”Yes, we definitely are”, he said.

”Great, let me just change clothes,” Kagura said and pointed out her new outfit. ”I don't want anyone to see this yet.”

”Of course,” Gintoki said and walked Kagura to her dressing room.

Before closing the dressing room's door Kagura couldn't help but to tease Gintoki just a little bit more. "Oh, A-Gin!"

"Hmm?"

"I'm pretty sure she's into you too," Kagura said and vanished before Gintoki could do anything.

"H-hey!!!"

* *

Kagura stopped teasing Gintoki about the Tsukki thing, he seemed to prefer not to talk about it. Maybe some other time he could confess his crsytal clear feelings, but now he had so much more on his mind.

When Gintoki and Kagura got to the company's car, Gintoki had a simple question for Kagura before they entered the vehicle.

”Can I ask you something Kagura?”

”Uh-huh, ask away.”

”The concert is only one week away”, Gintoki said to her, voice remaining as calm as he was talking about puppies. ”How do you feel about it?”

Kagura smiled. ”Well...I'm very excited.”

”Good...good.”

”Yeah.”

”You're almost a fully debuted idol.”

”I guess I am,” Kagura felt like Gintoki was tiptoeing about something and it annoyed her. ”Where are you getting with these questions A-Gin?”

”Kagura, you're like my daughter...do you really think I'm not worried about your well-being? This industry is very stressful.”

”Worried?”

”Yes, I feel like you're not telling me everything.”

Kagura knew what he meant. So he had seen her nervousness through her smile, she thought.

”I...I'm just afraid.”

Gintoki's eyes sharpened at her words. ”Afraid?”

”...I know how much effort you've put into me, this company and everything...”

”That's true...but what are you afraid of Kagura?” Gintoki asked.

Kagura could feel her eyes getting watery. This was one of her biggest fear and talking about it made it feel more real. ”Well what if I screw the show up or something else? I don't want to let you down and-”

Kagura's rambling quieted down as Gintoki pulled her into his arms.

”Silly girl...” Kagura listened to Gintoki's voice. It was deep and endearing. Also fatherly. It was just what she needed to hear.

”You could never let me down, no matter if things won't work out the way we planned.”

Kagura answered his hug by latching her fingers into his gray jacket. Even the stupid soft fabric felt comforting.

”I'm still going to work my ass of, yes”, Kagura said and sniffed quietly.

”I know that already Kagura..I know,” Gintoki said and patted the back of her head.

”Can we go to the park already A-Gin?” Kagura asked and tried to calm down her voice. She didn't want to cry over stupid things, she was too busy to do that.

”Yes, let's go then.”

A/N:

*ane-ue: a honorific for a sister in the Japanese language *chan: a honorific for someone younger in the Japanese language *Modern Talking: a German duo consisting of singer Thomas Anders and arranger, songwriter and producer Dieter Bohlen *synthesizer: an electronic musical instrument that generates audio signals that may be converted to sound *shamisen: a three-stringed traditional Japanese musical instrument derived from the Chinese instrument sanxian

[gb-fics]

Art Class - Friday (5)

AU Fanfiction:

Kiryuuin Shou x Kyan Yutaka (Golden Bomber)

Note: Read Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday.

“So”, Utahiroba Sensei said and looked down the lined-up pictures resting against the wall. “We have one sketch of flowers. Twelve paintings of flowers. One painting of a trash bin. And one painting of a toilet. Interesting.”

Shou could see that the corners of his lips were slightly twitching. He was trying not to laugh.

The students were standing in front of the paintings, too, finally studying the results of what the others had been working on.

“As you know, I am forced to grade your work for project week”, Utahiroba Sensei said. “Although I believe the system of grading goes against the spirit of artistic expression. It is important to me to give you all some detailed feedback, though. A grade tells you nothing about your strengths and the ways in which you still need to improve.”

Shou looked over at Yutaka.

He was standing closest to the wall, several students between them. He hadn’t been ignoring Shou, it really wasn’t like that. He had greeted him friendly in the morning. He had even cracked a half-hearted joke about Shou’s painting looking like trash when they put it up in line. But instead of standing next to him now and trying to make Shou laugh with his comments, he had put some distance between them clearly on purpose.

Shou didn’t know why it made his chest hurt like that. Maybe it was because he felt like he had lost another friend. But then maybe they shouldn’t be friends after what had happened last night. Just thinking of the way, he had kissed Yutaka yesterday in this very room, Shou felt his whole body grow hot with a weird mixture of excitement and shame. He wasn’t sure if he felt ashamed of having kissed Yutaka or because of what had happened afterwards.

Yutaka’s face right now was rather expressionless. Shou still thought that he was painfully handsome.

For some reason, he couldn’t even spare the energy to be nervous about his date with Sakura. He was too busy wishing Yutaka would talk to him like nothing had happened. If they could just go back, Shou could have it both. He could date a cute girl and have fun hanging out with Yutaka.

“I will talk to each of you personally and in private”, Utahiroba Sensei went on. “You know my office right on the other side of the corridor. Please, come there one by one. I hope we will be through by noon and then you can all go home. Alright? Then I’d suggest it is ladies first. You’ll agree on an order on your own.”

He walked out the door, leaving it open behind himself. The girls around Shou started chattering until they had worked out, whose name came first in an alphabetical order. The winner followed Utahiroba Sensei to his office.

Shou looked at the pictures. He looked at Sakura’s sketch, too. She wasn’t untalented, but Shou really wished she hadn’t drawn flowers.

“Why would anyone paint a toilet?”, a girl behind him asked so loudly that the entire class could hear her. Shou recognized the voice. It belonged to Sakura’s friend.

Some of the girls giggled.

Shou looked over to Yutaka. He expected him to defend himself. He expected Yutaka to pick a fight, because that seemed to be what he was best at. He always had a witty remark at hand and he didn’t take shit from anyone. Shou admired him for that, because he himself suffered from the inability to speak up too often.

Yutaka’s jaw was clenched tight. It was the only indicator that he had heard the comment at all.

“It’s just gross”, Shou heard Sakura’s quiet voice behind himself. It was almost a whisper.

And somehow, that whisper made Shou feel really upset. If she was talking badly about someone else, she should at least have the courage to say it out loud. Yutaka would have blurted it out for sure.

And how did she dare to judge Yutaka’s painting anyway?

Shou looked at the toilet. It was bad taste, yes, but it was also original and pretty funny in its absurdity. Among the row of flowers, it looked even more hilarious.

Shou looked at Sakura’s sketched flowers. They were pure and beautiful. There was nothing gross about them, nothing vulgar. They were drawn way more skilfully than anything Shou or Yutaka would have been able to produce. But they were entirely boring.

He tried to imagine what it would be like to lead a relationship with Sakura. Not just the dating, where you were still nervous whenever your arms brushed and you chose your words carefully. She was cute and Shou would be excited. But he tried to imagine not only their next 3 dates, but the next 30 ones. He thought of how she would let him hold her hand and how the silence would probably stretch out between them eventually, because they didn’t really have anything in common. He thought of how Sakura would never laugh at Shou’s dirty jokes and he would have to watch his language constantly. He thought of having to speak quietly always and having to strain his ears. He thought of a group date at karaoke, where she would sing boring songs with her boring friends and Shou would start to feel boring himself.

And he thought of how Yutaka would not just let him hold his hand. He would grab it tight and pull him along. He’d joke around with Shou in the worst kind of way and make him laugh extremely hard. He thought of going to karaoke with him in a group and how Yutaka would surely put on the most ridiculous performance of all times, shouting off-key instead of singing and how Shou would start doing an overdramatic dance and he thought of the fact that people would look at them and sneer and he thought, that when Yutaka grinned at him in that mischievous manner, Shou would not care what anyone else thought at all.

He imagined touching Sakura and he felt excited, but he knew that he would be hesitant and clumsy and never sure how far he was allowed to go. And he thought of touching Yutaka and he felt excited, too, just the same. But in his imagination, he wasn’t awkward and shy. Not because he thought that Yutaka could handle his greed better than Sakura, but because with him Shou wouldn’t feel ashamed for that greed. Not because he thought it would be easier with a guy in general. If Shou imagined being with another guy – even if it was someone really handsome such as Darvish Sensei – he knew he’d be nervous and awkward, too. Just with Yutaka, he would be alright. In his presence, Shou felt genuinely comfortable.

Shou stared at the toilet painting and realized he had been a liar.

He had told himself that he couldn’t be with Yutaka romantically, because he wanted someone to talk to and someone to take along on group dates. But truth was, that he could talk to Yutaka far better than he would be able to talk to Sakura, and he’d have more fun with him at group dates, too.

What Shou had honestly wanted was the easy way. He had wanted social acceptance without it getting difficult in the slightest. He hadn’t wanted love. He had simply wanted a girlfriend.

He swirled around on his heels.

He thought of how proud Yutaka had looked when he finished the painting yesterday. So proud, that Shou had wanted to kiss him. Because the painting was a symbol for Yutaka’s personality. It was dumb and it was funny and it did not care what people thought of it.

Love could be found in strange places. Shou might just have found it in a toilet bowl.

“Sakura?”, he said. “Can I talk to you for a minute?”

He had known when he kissed Yutaka last night. He had known when he had thrown the paint at him. He had known when they gazed at the stars. Truthfully, he had known when Yutaka dropped the lighter.

Sakura cast her eyes down and threw a shy glance over to her friend as if waiting for some kind of permission.

“Sure”, she said quietly.

Shou nodded over to the door and they stepped out onto the corridor. The door to the classroom stood ajar and Shou could still hear the other students chat loudly.

His face was burning again; not with nervousness but with shame. It was the same feeling he had had when finding the paint brush Yutaka had dropped on the floor yesterday. It was the knowledge of having made a giant mistake and no one else to blame. He hadn’t meant to hurt anyone, yet he was going to do it again.

“Sakura, I’m sorry”, he said.

He was speaking loudly, not hushing his voice this time. The words were sitting in his mouth uncomfortable, but he had to get them out.

“I know we wanted to go out today”, he said. “And I’m so, so sorry, but I can’t.”

Sakura peeked up to him through her lashes.

“It’s alright”, she said. “We can go another time.”

Shou hesitated. He wanted to take the easy way out badly. If he just said “sure, another time” and then never got back to it, she would certainly just forget about it eventually. It would remain something that just hadn’t happened due to the circumstances, but that was absolutely not Shou’s fault at all.

He knew that this solution was cowardly, though. He needed to take responsibility. He would need to take responsibility for kissing Yutaka last night, too.

“I’m sorry”, he repeated. “I feel like the last asshole asking you out and then cancelling. I think you are absolutely cute and I really wanted to go out with you for a while now.” The words came easier now that they didn’t mean so much anymore. “But I think there is someone else I like. I tried to ignore those feelings, but …”

Next to them, the door to Utahiroba Sensei’s office opened and a girl came out, giving them a curious look as she walked over to the art room. Shou kept quiet while the next girl came out to disappear into the office. She was openly staring at them, too. Sakura did not speak either.

Only when the door to the office was shut tightly again, did Shou inhale deeply.

“I didn’t mean to change my mind so quickly”, he finished. “I was just stupid.”

Sakura nodded; her expression set tightly.

“Thank you for telling me honestly”, she said.

She did seem a little hurt, but Shou didn’t know her well enough to tell for sure. But she didn’t get upset and Shou thought that maybe they would have gotten along indeed. She seemed to be nice and if only he gotten to know her better, she surely wasn’t all that boring. They would have found something they had in common.

But if he was honest, Shou currently didn’t care enough to find out.

He thought of going back inside where Yutaka was. His heart beat more violently instantly. He’d have to tell him, too. Somehow, it made him more nervous than turning down Sakura.

“We should go back inside”, Sakura suggested. She spoke rather formally.

“I’ll be there in a bit”, Shou said and remained standing alone in the corridor as Sakura went back to class.

He needed time to prepare. He needed to think about what he wanted to tell Yutaka. That he was sorry for kissing him? That he wanted to kiss him again? He wasn’t sure Yutaka would forgive him for practically toying with him. He wasn’t sure Yutaka would trust him to have changed his mind for good now, either. Maybe he wouldn’t even believe Shou if he confessed now.

The office door opened once more and caused Shou to flinch. The next girl crossing the corridor was Sakura’s friend. She shot Shou a deadly look as she walked by.

Shou realized that Sakura had told her. He realized, too, that Sakura would tell her other friends as well. Shou would forever be the guy who had asked out a girl to dump her the very next day for someone else. He was marked as untrustworthy now. He was scorched earth now. None of the girls from their year would go out with him for a long time now. He really hoped it would be worth it.

He stared down the hall absent-mindedly.

He wondered what Yutaka was doing right now. If he had overheard that Shou had cancelled the date? Probably not. Yutaka wasn’t one to care for what the girls were gossiping about. But wasn’t he wondering why Shou didn’t come back inside after Sakura had long returned? Somehow, Shou wished Yutaka would check on him. He wouldn’t be able to approach him in front of everyone. Asking Yutaka out to talk right after telling Sakura he liked someone else might cause rumours, too. Shou wasn’t sure he was ready for that. But walking in and just ignoring Yutaka until class ended and everyone left didn’t feel like an option, either. He really wished Yutaka would just come out to check on him.

With a sigh he gave in and walked back into the classroom.

Sakura was sitting with a small group of friends.

Yutaka was standing next to the paintings, explaining something to a girl with sweeping gestures. The girl laughed. Shou felt furious.

He walked over to the window and sat down on one of the desks alone. It felt impossible to approach someone and talk to them. He realized that this was what his week would have looked like, if it hadn’t been for Yutaka. Surrounded by pretty girls, Shou would probably have managed to not talk to even one of them for the entire week. Without Yutaka looking at him, Shou would have remained invisible.

Instead of watching Sakura, Shou was trying to watch Yutaka now without attracting attention. Yutaka was still talking to the girl. Shou wondered if he was flirting with her. He probably was. Flirting came easy to Yutaka. He felt bitter that their kiss had obviously not affected Yutaka much. He had just moved on to the next person. Shou didn’t even have the right to blame him.

He pulled out his phone, staring at the screen to pretend he was busy while the girls left and entered the room again. He wasn’t doing anything on his phone, though.

Finally, the last girl came back, Utahiroba Sensei by her side this time.

He cleared his throat to draw attention.

“Now, we are only left with our two gentleman artists”, he announced, his words dripping with sarcasm. “Since it is quite late already, I’m not sure we will finish in time, but both of you are already used to staying late by now, aren’t you? Everyone else, I kindly ask you to stay inside the room until the official bell, so we won’t get in trouble. Feel free to leave at noon, though. Shou, would you come to my office first, please?”

Shou jumped up from the desk and followed Utahiroba Sensei over to his office. It had a desk in it and not much more. Utahiroba Sensei sat down on the desk chair and gestured for Shou to sit down opposite to him.

Shou stared onto his lap. Although Utahiroba Sensei was friendly and even funny at times, Shou never felt comfortable in the presence of his teachers.

“So, Shou, tell me, did you enjoy project week?”

Shou looked up in surprise and shrugged awkwardly.

“I’m asking this question to anyone. It’s not a trick question”, Utahiroba Sensei soothed him.

“It was fun at times”, Shou admitted. “But I’m no good at drawing.”

“I was surprised you signed up for my class”, Utahiroba Sensei said. “I heard from your music teacher that you’ve got quite the talent in other fields.”

Shou shrugged once more.

“It’s good to try out new things, too, isn’t it?”, he asked defensively.

Utahiroba Sensei nodded gravely. Shou wished it would be possible to ask him about his relationship with Darvish Sensei. He had wondered a lot if Yutaka’s assumption was true. He didn’t want to be rude, though. Also, there was a fair chance that Yutaka was going to ask himself.

“Absolutely”, Utahiroba Sensei confirmed. “And project week is also about learning teamwork. I have to admit that you showed up for your partner, staying after class with him yesterday to restore his painting.”

Utahiroba Sensei paused.

“I’m just worried Kyan Yutaka might be a bad influence on you. You seem like a quiet and reasonable person. He is a troublemaker. You should be careful about picking him as a friend.”

Shou bit down on his lower lip hard.

Utahiroba Sensei’s judgement made Shou angry. Yutaka seemed like trouble, but he had done his best to support Shou in any way.

“Yutaka is a good person”, he said between clenched teeth.

“He is the Antichrist”, Utahiroba Sensei said with a sigh.

“He is just trying to fit in”, Shou insisted.

Utahiroba Sensei nodded.

“He hasn’t found his place yet”, he agreed. “He thinks he has to claim it. He’s angry at everyone for not accepting him. But he has to learn that he can’t fight the entire world.”

Shou was surprised at the deep insight. Utahiroba Sensei seemed to know exactly what Shou had been talking about.

Shou knew perfectly well, that if he dated Yutaka, it would mean Yutaka introducing him to all of his friends, even if they had a problem with two men dating. He would also insist on holding Shou’s hand in public, even if people would stare. Because Yutaka never backed off from a fight. He wanted to show people far too hard that he was right. He acted like he didn’t care, because he truly cared a lot.

“Yutaka can’t fight the entire world”, Shou said quietly. “But he sure as hell is going to try.”

Utahiroba Sensei chuckled under his breath.

“What about you, though?”, he asked. “What do you want?”

Shou stared down onto his lap again.

He wanted to hold Yutaka’s hand with no one staring at them. He didn’t want to put his energy into convincing people who were going to judge him anyway.

“I want a quiet piece of the world”, he said. “Where nothing is difficult and I’m happy.”

Utahiroba Sensei exhaled loudly.

“I’ve always wanted that, too”, he confessed. “But things are always difficult when you stand out. I saw your painting. You definitely need to improve your skills, but I can see what you were trying to do. You wanted to be different from the others. And it worked. Your painting isn’t the best one in class, but it stands out because of its difference. It’s a good way of achieving that, but it’s also going to cause you trouble.”

“Wanting to be different, you mean?”, Shou asked.

Utahiroba Sensei nodded.

“It makes you unique, but people often don’t like it when you are different. You’ll have to make a choice. You are not a fighter like your friend.”

Shou swallowed. He had the feeling that Utahiroba Sensei was trying to give him some advice that had nothing to do with painting.

Once more Shou wondered if Yutaka had chosen his class because of that. Utahiroba was a watchful teacher. He’d make a good role model for someone who seemed as lost as Yutaka.

“Is it worth it?”, Shou wanted to know. “From your experience, is it worth being different if people will be against it so much?”

Utahiroba Sensei turned his head so he was looking out the window. It looked out onto the sports field. He was smiling.

“Yes”, he confirmed. “It usually is. But I think you have made your decision already anyway.”

Shou looked out onto the sports field as well. He thought of Yutaka trying to take a nap beneath the stairs.

“Yes, I do”, he said.

“So”, Utahiroba Sensei concluded and clapped his hands. “The execution of your painting still needs to improve, but the idea was original and you did a good job on the teamwork exercise. You get a B for project week.”

“Thank you!”, Shou exclaimed, somewhat surprised. He hadn’t expected to do anything better than pass.

“Now, get out and send that troublemaker in”, Utahiroba Sensei commanded and Shou got up.

Just when he left the office, the school bell rang out. On his way into the classroom, students were spilling out. He had to wait to let a group of them pass.

“Yutaka, your turn”, he called out.

Yutaka had his bag ready and took it with him as he left for the office. Shou took his time to collect his things and put on his jacket. He was the last person in the room.

Finally, he left, setting up tent in front of Utahiroba Sensei’s office. He put his school bag onto the floor and leaned against the wall. Then, he waited.

Yutaka stayed inside for a long time.

Shou wondered what they were discussing. He assumed Utahiroba Sensei had some advice for Yutaka as well. Probably, talking openly was a lot easier for Yutaka than it was for Shou. Maybe Yutaka had asked about Darvish Sensei. If he had, maybe he had told Utahiroba about Shou’s kiss as well. Shou really wondered if Utahiroba was that kind of consultant teacher. But then, Yutaka somehow seemed to be his favourite. He seemed to care. And Shou figured there weren’t a lot of adults around to talk to about this kind of issue.

After a time that had lasted far longer than with any of the other students, the door to the office opened.

“Thank you again, Sensei!”, Yutaka shouted, his voice cheerful, but somehow Shou thought his profile looked a little troubled nonetheless.

Only after shutting the door did Yutaka turn around to the corridor and spotted Shou. For a second, his expression seemed unable to settle for a definite emotion. He looked confused.

Then he beamed at him.

“B minus!”, he announced proudly. “Told you Utahiroba wouldn’t give us a hard time.” His cheerfulness sounded a little fake.

“Good”, Shou said and smiled nervously.

“But what are you still doing here?”, Yutaka asked and furrowed his brow. “I thought you’d be long since off with your little girlfriend.”

He said it in his usual, joking manner, but Shou thought his words sounded mean anyway. He couldn’t blame him.

“I, uhm”, Shou said. “I cancelled the date.”

“You messed up with the reservation at the restaurant, didn’t you?”, Yutaka asked, sounding angry now. “I knew you’d ruin it somehow. After we tried so hard.”

His anger seemed unjustified to Shou. He probably was still pissed at Shou.

“It’s not that”, Shou interrupted him, before he could go on. “I didn’t want to go out with Sakura.”

Yutaka’s expression softened instantly. It was hard to tell what it was that suddenly looked gentler. Maybe it was the angle of his eyebrows, maybe his jaw that wasn’t clenched so tightly anymore.

“You didn’t?”, he assured, rather calmly now.

Shou shook his head.

“I don’t want to date someone, just because it’s easy”, he said. “Especially not when there is someone I actually like.”

Yutaka licked his lips. It looked as if he was trying to buy time.

Shou realized that he looked scared. Fearless, carefree Yutaka looked scared of what Shou was going to say next. Yutaka looked down onto the floor and for a moment, Shou thought it seemed as if he wanted to punch a hole right through it.

“About yesterday”, Yutaka said softly. “I need something real, Shou. You can’t just …”

“Shh”, Shou interrupted him and Yutaka looked up.

He could see all the things Yutaka was afraid of written across his face. He was scared that Shou would ask him for more secret kisses, for meetings late at night on the rooftop when no one else was around. He was scared that Shou would try to hide him, where he wanted so desperately to be seen.

“Just one question”, Shou said and managed a smile, although his stomach was revolting. After this, there would be no going back. “Kyan Yutaka, do you like Italian food?”

For a moment, Yutaka just stared at him blankly. Then he realized what Shou had just said. His face lit up and Shou thought his grin was as blinding as staring right into the sun.

Because Shou wanted to see Yutaka make a mess out of his face and out of the tablecloth while eating spaghetti. He wanted to hold his hand on their way back home. He wanted to slap his head when he said something stupid and he wanted to throw stuff at him when he made him feel embarrassed and he wanted to kiss him when Yutaka made him laugh. He didn’t want just another adventure. He wanted love.

“Tell you what”, Yutaka said and turned his head to look down the corridor to their left and to their right. They were the only students still around.

Then he took a step towards Shou, dropping his schoolbag. It sprung open and spilled its insides across the floor. Yutaka did not pay attention to it.

He put his hands against either side of Shou’s face. Then he kissed him. Not gentle and not heated, but goofy and full of enthusiasm.

When Yutaka pulled back, his face wearing the typical lopsided grin was still close.

“Kiryuuin Shou”, he said. “I really like all kinds of food.”

[bazypitchandsimonsnow]

The Black Swan

Chapter 1

Rating: T

Genre: Fluff/Angst

Word count: 3731

Chapter: 1/17 (All chapters)

Summary: Prince Simon of Watford hates being a prince. He would rather be with his friends than try to learn tax policy. While adventuring in the scary woods with Penelope, Simon finds a strange boy who somehow transforms from a swan into a human when he sits on a lake. Simon immediately becomes fascinated with the boy and his mysterious existence. And as he learns more, Simon's feelings start to deepen. But when the stakes get higher, can those feelings triumph over their struggles?

Read on AO3

AN: Hello everyone, and welcome to my big bang! It's super long, I spent hours trying to fix stuff that I'm still not 100% on, and I'm very happy I actually did it. And I really do like it, I'm just way too critical of myself. I wrote this because A) I love fantasy AUs, B) I love the Swan Lake ballet, and C) I love the webcomic based on Swan Lake “The Prince and The Swan” by April Pierce which I recommend you all read it's awesome. So this an AU based off both the ballet and the comic. I'm posting the first two chapters today cause I feel like them together is a good start to the story. I'll be posting every monday and every other Thursday. 

Shoutout to my artist @bookerella who made amazing art for this fic. I’ll be linking her piece for this chapter at the end. And another shoutout as always to @carryonmylovelies because she has been my rock for the past five months through writing this fic and along with a lot of other struggles. She's the best and I love her with all my heart. And after all that, please enjoy the first two chapters of The Black Swan. Hope y'all like it :)

———————————————

Burning, everything was burning

The whole world was engulfed in flames and reeked of smoke. Simon didn’t know where he was. Only that this body wasn’t his. The arms were small, pudgy, that of a young boy. But he felt the muscles move and the skin heat up with the flames.  They licked at him but didn’t touch, bending away before contact.

“Darling, where are you?!” a woman’s voice yelled, followed by an ear piercing scream.

Simon started running immediately. He didn’t know why, just that he had to go. He ran past the creaking wood, the scorched stone, looking for where the voice was coming from. Consciously, he didn’t know who it was, but he knew he had to get to her. A burning beam nearly crushed his head, but he kept going. He needed to get to her.

“Mum!” His voice shouted. It wasn’t his though, yet it came from his mouth. Rather, it was a child’s voice, desperate and afraid. Simon could feel tears streaming down the boy’s face, created from smoke and fear.

“Where is she?” Simon asked himself from the boy’s mouth.

Another scream rang out. Simon started running again. He couldn’t see. There was too much debris and smoke and fire to find anything. But he reached her room eventually, using all his short might to force the doors open. The boy’s mum was standing right in the centre of a ring of fire. Her grey gown was in charred shreds, hair obscuring most of her soot covered face. A thick arm was wound around her neck. She was struggling to breath, from smoke and the person choking her.

“Mum!” he shouted with voice that wasn’t his again. “Stop hurting her!”

“Run,” she rasped out. The person with the thick arm looked at him. His eyes were piercing blue, filled with a killer’s rage. The boy backed up slowly. “Run!”

And so he ran. He was running as far as his little legs could carry him, ducking and weaving through the burning debris. She told him to run. So he would, he would do whatever she said. Run, run, run-

“Not so fast, brat.” The man grabbed his small fancy collar so hard he choked. His voice was smooth, confident, completely sure of his own power. “You’re not going anywhere. I’ve got other plans for you.

He tried to scream, but the man’s grip was too tight for speech. The burning world slowly turned black.

———————————————

“Simon. Simon. Simon!”

Simon jolted awake so hard his head smacked against his wooden chair. He whined as he rubbed the sore spot. King David stood over him from the other side of the desk. He had his hands on his hips, glaring at his adopted son with extreme disapprovement.

“Yes?” Simon grumbled.

“Were you sleeping when you were supposed to be studying battle techniques?” David asked in a way that meant he knew the answer.

“N-No,” the prince lied with a shaky voice. David kept glaring, and Simon sighed. “I’m just tired from studying, Father, sorry.”

David shook his head, crown shifting on his brown curls. “I’m disappointed, Simon. You’ve been the crown prince full time for a year now, you should know how to cope. I brought you here to be my heir. The least you can do is try.”

Simon picked at his nails, a nervous habit he still hadn’t broken over the years. Another thing David was disappointed in. “Sorry,” he mumbled.

“Words are meaningless, Simon. Do better. Now come along, we have a council meeting.”

Simon had to suppress a groan. He hated council meetings. They were always so boring. They made him really want to find the executioner so he could be put out of his misery.

He did up his embroidered tunic properly and put the gold circlet back on his head anyway. He wanted all these damn things off so bad. The circlet always got too hot and made his forehead sweat. And the formal attire was so damn itchy. Simon was never comfortable when he dressed like a prince. Even years later, he still wondered if David made a mistake, picking him to be his heir.

David pushed open the council room doors with flourish, green cloak flapping behind him. He always did it so much with flourish, always making a grand scene when he greeted the council. Penny would roll her eyes.

“All rise,” Sir Premal announced, “for his majesty, King David Owens of Watford. And for his royal highness, Crown Prince Simon Owens of Watford.”

The lords stood, hands clasped in front of them respectfully. They all look bored, as usual. Nobility weren’t allowed to enjoy themselves. Simon was pretty sure it was written in the Constitution of Watford Kingdom. Though some of their eyes flicked to Simon and narrowed. He could feel the contempt and snobbery radiating off them. He knew what some of them thought of him deep down; just a lowly orphan painted up to impersonate a prince. Simon couldn’t disagree. A lot of the time, he felt like that too.

David stood at the head with Simon right beside him on a smaller chair. Everyone’s chairs had to be smaller than David’s.

“Be seated,” the king said. All the hardwood scraped on the stone simultaneously. Simon desperately wanted to slump further, but he knew David would yell at him later. It wasn’t worth the ear ache.

The King opened his large leather bound ledger. He kept meticulous finance records. Many would say he was obsessive. And many would be correct. “Now, the tax increases have been fully implemented. Have you all of you have been collecting well?”

His tone made it incredibly clear that this was a question with specific answers. David’s questions always came with specific answers. The lords shifted minutely, the closest they’d ever come to protest, and replied with a monotone “yes” as they handed their bags of collected gold pieces. Not Lord Grimm though. He merely pushed down his burlap sack while staring straight ahead. He rarely spoke during these meetings. Simon assumed it was because David took his late wife’s throne, the same throne that was originally meant to be passed down to his late son but was now going to Simon. Simon couldn’t blame him. He wouldn’t like being constantly reminded of his family’s demise either. Maybe not talking made it easier.

“Good,” David said as he checked off every province. “Any disturbances from the people?”

“No,” the speaking lords replied.

“Wonderful.” David snapped his ledger closed. “Now, there’s the matter of the old Hampshire property. It’s fallen into complete disrepair over the past few years, what with Lady Fiona moving and no one else living there. I suggest we demolish it for building materials. The new castle extension needs stone. Any protests?”

No one spoke up, because David’s cold expression told them not to. Not even Lord Grimm said anything, which Simon found surprising. Hampshire was the oldest Pitch family property. They owned it before becoming the royal family. But he said nothing. Just stared ahead with a bored expression. Simon still instinctively shied away though. Lord Malcolm Grimm always looked like a white haired pit viper, calm most of the time but definitely could kill you in an instant. But today was a good day, because Malcolm simply looked at King David, and nodded.

David nodded back. “Good. Lord Grimm, please alert Lady Pitch of this. Are there any other matters we need to discuss?” All the lords stayed silent in response. ”Very well. You’re all dimissised. Farewell, your lordships.”

“Farewell, your majesty,” the speaking lords said.

What was the point of this? Simon thought. Less than five minutes so the King could take money from the rich people and announce he was destroying a historic building. Penelope said most of these meetings were just so David could flex his power. Simon liked to believe there was something more, but he had to admit she had a point. She was usually right.

As he and Simon were exiting, Malcolm put a hand on David’s shoulder. Simon stiffened. It wasn’t appropriate to touch a king. He remembered the day David first brought him to the castle. His new father had slapped him away when he tugged on his royal sleeve. “You ask permission to touch a king, Simon. Remember that,” he’d said. Simon had always kept to that rule, along with everyone else. Yet David didn’t look upset at Lord Grimm’s discretion. His eyes justs slid over to the side.

“Excuse my boldness,” Lord Grimm said smoothly, “but I have something to discuss with you, your majesty.” His cold brown eyes shifted to Simon. Simon tried not to gulp. “In private.”

Simon looked to his father. David nodded. “Go, Simon. I give you leave for the day.”

The prince grinned ear to ear. “Really?”

“Did I not just say so? Return by supper.”

“Yes, yes, Father, I will.” Simon was already going towards the exit as he spoke.

“Close the door on your way out.” David didn’t say please, because, “kings are above politeness, Simon.”

Simon nodded. “Yes, Father.”

As he was closing the door, Simon heard snippets of their extremely hushed conversation. Malcolm looked serious, David looked unamused.

“Insult...too long...,” Malcolm muttered.

“Very well...remember...know your place,” David replied.

Simon was too excited to leave to care for stupid royal dealings. He shut the door and immediately raced down the carpeted hallway. Past the dirty high ceilings and confining stone walls. Even though this castle was only a little over a decade years old, it had the fashions of somewhere old. David wanted it to look ancient, to make it look like his royal line was just as old as the Pitches were. Penny told Simon it was about ego or power or something. Simon didn’t care. He just wanted to leave it right now.

The second he reached his room, Simon stripped off his tunic, making his circlet hit the stone with a tink. He hopped around trying to get his pants off and nearly fell face first on the floor. That would be rich, Simon thought, a crown prince with a broken nose caused by his own inability to get out of his trousers. What a great future king I am, huh David?

Simon put on his loose white shirt and filthy riding pants. He wrapped an old scarf around his head, attempting to hide his distinctive bronze curls under the grey fabric. It wouldn’t stop everyone from noticing him of course, but it would stop enough. Enough that he could get to one particular place.

As the reluctant crown prince and graduated student of The Mage School, which sat just to the north of the castle, Simon had enough practice getting from royal property to the town quickly. He used the hidden passageways, weaving through the corridors with ease, greeting every servant by name as he passed by. He ended up in the kitchen, where Cook Pritchard was already preparing for supper.

“Hello, Mrs. Pritchard,” he said, hanging over her counter. “How’s the kitchen?”

“Oh, same old, same old,” she replied. “How’s castle business?”

“Boring, of course. Say, is that a spare scone?”

The cook gave Simon an amused look. “I believe so.”

Simon grinned brightly. Ebb told him he had a smile that could persuade armies to surrender. She was always so nice. “May I please have it?”

Mrs. Pritchard sighed overdramatically as she handed the pastry over. “Only because you asked so nicely, your highness.”

“I told you, call me Simon, please. Your highness is too long.”

“I would, but his majesty insists on formal titles. He’s quite...demanding.”

“Don’t I know it,” Simon grumbled, taking an aggressive bite of the scone. “Thank you, Mrs. Pritchard. Need anything from town?”

“No, no, I’m fine. Those carrots you found last week were lovely, thank you.”

“No problem! Thanks for the scone!”

Cook Pritchard waved as Simon dashed off. “You’re welcome, your highness, have fun!”

He absolutely would. He always had fun on days like this. Simon ran out the wooden doors, over the rawbridge, and across the great lawn. Ebb was standing there with her goat herd, magically trying to rein them in. She waved with her entire arm.

“Good morrow, Simon!” she yelled. Ebb didn’t care for formalities at all.

Simon waved back. “Good morrow, Ebb! Need anything from town?”

“Oh no, I’m alright. Just say hello to Penelope for me!”

“Will do!”

Simon ran over the grass and down the dirt road. The thick brush of the Wavering Wood separated the castle from Watford Town. Most used magic to reveal a path. But Simon didn’t trust his magic, so he knew the forest like the back of his hand instead. He made it through with ease, jumping over fallen branches and across the mossy ground, emerging into the sunlight on the other side. He immediately took a deep breath, exhaling with a long sigh. Outside the stone walls and merwolf moat, he could finally breathe.

Watford Town was the biggest collection of people in the Watford Kingdom. (Both were called Watford, which made geography lessons far too confusing in Simon’s opinion.) Large, tall houses lined busy dirt streets. Stalls were filled with people shouting out prices of their wares. Everyone was bustling and talking and laughing. Soldiers stood on street corners, watching everyone move. Simon strolled past all of them with hands in his pockets. A few of them went wide eyed seeing him, but most people didn’t even notice he was there. He sighed. This town was his real home. And he missed it all the time.

Simon walked through the downtown to the slight outskirts. He knocked on a familiar red door. A few footstep sounds later, it swung open, and Simon was looking Penelope Bunce right in the eye.

“Hey Pen,” he chirped. “Ebb says hi.”

Penny smirked. “Did you have to sword fight Davy to get him let you out during the day?”

Simon grinned even more. “Nope. He just let me go.”

“Wow. Is our good ol’ King going soft in his old age?”

“I’m not sure that’s possible,” he scoffed. “Can I come in? Or has your Mum finally officially banned me?”

Penny barked a laugh and steps to the side. “Like she could stop me. Get in here, you royal bastard.”

Simon whipped off his scarf off and stepped into the Bunce house. It was big, but not as big as the castle, and it felt much smaller with two adults and four children all together. Simon didn’t mind. He preferred the cozy family feeling here to his large, empty supposed palace.

“How’s the castle been?” Penny asked. Simon groaned and flopped on one of the chairs. “That good, huh?”

Simon grunted. “Bloody nightmare. I thought David was demanding while we were in school, but now he’s got me reading even more books. I think I’m going to slice my throat on a policy manual page one of these days.”

“Oh the horror of reading. Want tea?”

“Yes please. And I’m fine with reading interesting books. But these ones have too many complicated words and not enough pictures.”

Penny sighed heavily as she boiled the kettle with her wand. “I sometimes wonder why we’re friends.”

Simon twisted his head around towards the kitchen with his sunshine smile. “Because I’m nice and charming and you love me.”

“True, untrue, and yes, I do, despite my better judgement.” Penny turned to him. She was smiling a bit, but her eyes were sad. “It’s sort of weird, y’know, not seeing you everyday at school. It’s been almost a year, and it’s still weird.”

Simon sighed. He got up from the chair and strolled over to her. He draped himself over Penny like an affectionate ragdoll, chin on her head and arms around her neck. “I miss you too, Pen.”

Penelope sighed and sunk into his arms for a second. But then struggled out of his grip as the kettle whistled. “Yeah, yeah, I miss you, you big softy. Now get off me and let me make the tea.”

“Of course, will do.” He planted a big wet kiss on her cheek before flopping back to the chair. Penny soon brought over two cups with steaming tea. She took the seat opposite him, and sighed after a long drink. Her whole body relaxed. And it looked like she needed it.

“So,” Simon said, “how’s the new job?”

Penny groaned. “Horrible. You’d think there’d be better work here for a mage, but there seems to be little good use for us outside court or in the North where Micah is. Which means I’m stuck trying to sell cooking ware to people on the street.”

“I wish I could help, Pen,” Simon sighed. “If I become king, I’ll make you and Micah court mages. And you’ll be my head advisor and court mage, promise.”

She gave Simon a strange look over her cup. “You mean ‘when you’re king’, Simon, right?”

Simon sunk into his chair. He shrugged his shoulders high and slumped down. Penny slowly put her tea down and leaned forward. “Simon, you’re the crown prince. You were specifically chosen by King David to be his heir.”

“I know,” he grumbled.

“You can’t pretend you’re not anymore.”

“I know.”

“You have to accept the responsibility of-”

“I know!”

The whole house shook slightly. The side table fell over and a crack appeared in the nearby wall. Simon was horrified, his gut twisting with guilt. He put down his cup and rubbed his face up and down. Stupid magic,he thought, never listens.

“Sorry,” he groaned. “Sorry, sorry, I shouldn’t have lost my temper and this is your house and I’m damaging it. Sorry-”

“Hey, Simon,” Penny stepped out of her chair and stood in front of her friend. She put a hand on his shoulder. “It’s alright. I shouldn’t have pushed you. I just, I hoped you would have accepted this by now.”

Simon sighed, slumping forward. “Yeah, me too. Guess not.” He ran a nervous hand through his tangled hair. “I just don’t know how I’m supposed to be a king. I barely passed my civics classes, I hate policy, I’m terrible at speaking, I can barely use this supposedly amazing magic I have. I’m never going to be like David.”

“Dear Lord, I hope not.” Simon gave Penny a weird look. “Simon, King Davy has made some good changes, but he does it with an iron fist. He just barrels through no matter what the lords or the people say. That’s not a good ruler, that’s a tyrant.”

“Don’t call him that. He’s not all bad. He took me in.”

Penelope sighed, patting him kindly. “I know. Just, don’t try to be like David, Si. Be like you.”

Simon reached up and squeezed her hand. “Okay. And you’ll be my top advisor. Or bodyguard, like Premal.”

She groaned, immediately pulling away from her friend. “Please never compare me to my brother ever again. The boy has a stick jammed so far up his arse you could mistake him for a statue.”

“Too true. He’s so still and slomen that I sometimes I run into him.”

“Please keep doing that. It might make him loosen up.”

Simon sunk further into his chair. “Hm, I’ll try.” He sighed, rubbing his forehead. It still felt weird from his crown. It always did. “I don’t want to go back to the castle tonight. David’s going to make me read the geography book again.”

“Well,” Penny said playfully, “I’m not working tonight. We could go exploring the Wavering Wood, like our school days.”

“But we’ve explored all The Wavering Wood,” Simon whined. But quickly, like a lightning flash, an idea came into his wild head. He grinned mischievously. Penny instinctively leaned back.

“I don’t like that look, Simon.” She raised a cautious hand raised.

He stood up, hands on his hips in triumph. “We can explore the Forbidden Lands!”

Penny groaned. She shook her hanging head and walked towards the kitchen. As well as away from her insane friend. “I knew you would say that and I still can’t believe it,” she muttered.

“C’mon, Pen, it could be fun! We’ve been through the Wood enough. We’re old pros. This would be a new adventure!” He followed after her, practically vibrating behind her as she put away the tea blocks.

“Si, the Wavering Wood may be dense, but the Forbidden Lands are different. They’re actually treacherous. Lots of steep slopes and dangerous animals. We could get seriously hurt.”

Simon waved dismissively. “You’ve got good magic, I’ve got a sword, we’ll be fine.”

Penny gave him an unamused look over her glasses. But when Simon put on his pathetic pout, her resolve buckled. He hugged her from the behind. “Please Pen? We don’t even have to go that far in. I just want to go explore somewhere new, have some fun. Like the old days.”

She still looked unamused, but Simon pouted more, rubbing up against her hair like the affectionate puppy he sometimes was. “Please?”

Penelope stayed stoic for only a few more seconds. But soon enough she sighed, posture falling along with her resolve. “Fine,” she groaned, “we’ll go exploring.”

That made Simon, crown prince of all of Watford and most powerful mage in the land, squeal like an excited school boy. He jumped up and down while saying, “thank you, thank you, thank you!”

“I hope you know that if you die, it’ll be my head on a pike. So stay alive.”

“Of course! And I’ll pay you back. Get you some fancy herbs from the court mage’s cabinet.”

“I’ll hold you to that, Si.”

He hugged her tight again. “I wouldn’t expect anything else from you.”

Penny leaned against him. Simon put his cheek on her hair. He really did miss this. Mage’s School was tough, what with his lack of magical raising and previous poor schooling, but he met Penelope and Agatha. And for the first time in his life, he had real friends. He never thought he needed one until them. Now, he missed seeing them everyday so damn much.

Simon wanted an adventure. Like the great magical prince he thought he would be the day David took him in. Just one. That was all he needed.

———————————————

AN: If you're enjoying it so far, go to chapter 2 right here.

[bffhreprise]

Best Friend For Hire Reprise, Entry 370

 “Who are you?” asked Jamie.  She had gotten up to answer the door.  She wasn’t too happy.  Jamie didn’t like mornings.

 “Good morning, Jamie.  I am Mila, Noelle’s ride to work.” replied Mila.

 Mila…?  I knew Mila!  “Mila!  How are you!?” I exclaimed, running to the door.

 “Noelle, you actually know this person?  Why’s she in cosplay?” asked Jamie suspiciously.

 “This is Mila!  We met some time ago and are great friends.  I remember talking with her for ages!  And…” I started, hesitating as I clung on to what the other question was.  “That’s just how she looks?” I asked.

 “I am the maid of James Michael Somerset III, who hired Noelle yesterday to work at Best Friend For Hire, one of his companies.” explained Mila.

 “Riiight…  I don’t know what you did with my sister yesterday, but we’re not buying it.  Please, leave.” stated Jamie, starting to shut the door.

 I grabbed the door, holding on and saying, “Mila, please come in and explain.  I remember James!  He’s nice!”

 “If you don’t mind, Jamie, I would gladly show you our website and explain what your sister will be doing for us.” stated Mila, not bothered at all by Jamie’s reaction.  Mila was nice too.

 Jamie turned to me and stared, doing that thing where she wasn’t exactly looking at me.  Then she sighed and said, “Okay, I’ll listen.”

 Mila brought up a website, and showed us a picture of James!  I recognized him.  She continued explaining things about how the company worked and the different types of jobs I might do, even explaining about some school program that I’d be using to learn.  She seemed convinced that I’d remember the lessons more easily through it.

 Throughout the speech, my eyes were mainly on Jamie, watching how she reacted.  I wanted her to be happy.  She was getting married soon, and she shouldn’t be worrying about me.  I was an adult and had to find a way to take care of myself.

 “This is real?” asked Jamie with obvious disbelief.

 “Yes, Jamie.  Furthermore, Noelle should probably move to Somerset Estate, so she can eventually learn the names of her coworkers, study more easily, and have adequate reminders about her jobs from the moment she wakes.” explained Mila.

 Jamie laughed, but she was crying too.  Mila brought up a picture of a beautiful mansion and then the picture turned into a movie, giving us some sort of virtual tour.  As the video continued, we were told about all sorts of benefits provided by the company.

 Reaching over to hug me with one arm, Jamie asked “Is this what you want, Noelle?”

 “Yes!” I told her, doing my best to keep in mind how Jamie looked.  She seemed so excited, despite the tears.

 “I’ll want to see the place before you move in, and I’ll make time with Tom to help you move.” she told us.

 “I should mention that one of the company perks is a free moving service for employees.  Please, don’t rent a truck.  We have company vehicles and people to handle all of the hauling.” insisted Mila.

 “Really?” asked Jamie in surprise.  She turned to face Mila.

 “Yes.  The moving service extends to family, so please don’t hesitate to inform us when you’d like to move in with Tom.  We’ll gladly help.” insisted Mila.

 Jamie had a few more questions, but I was sent off to get ready for work.  I was working today!  I couldn’t focus on that though, not if I wanted to remember Jamie’s face as she accepted that I had a job.  The smiles and tears weren’t something I wanted to forget.

 After several hugs and some well-wishing, Jamie let me get to work.  The ride didn’t seem terribly long, though I might have forgotten most of it, but Mila made a picture of James appear on the limo’s window, telling me not to forget what he looked like.  James was the boss.

 “James!  I came back!” I exclaimed when I saw him approaching.  I was inside the mansion, standing in a giant, beautiful hallway.  “Mila’s been introducing me to everyone!”

 “Reintroducing, really.” came a voice from next to me, drawing my attention to her.  We were hugging!  She had beautiful dyed hair.  “We met yesterday.”

 “Sorry.” I told her, my grip loosening around her.  I was hugging her.  I was hugging her!  “I remembered that Emma likes hugs!” I explained excitedly.

 “Yep.  I should have told her I like hugs.” came a manly voice.  The owner of the voice had red hair and was being elbowed by a tall girl with a blonde streak in her brown hair.

 “Do you?” I asked, hoping I’d remember.

 “Don’t worry.  I give him plenty.” insisted the tall girl, elbowing the guy again.

 “Did Mila explain our morning exercises to you?” questioned James.  James was easy to remember.

 “Umm… Probably?” I replied uncertainly.  Mila seemed very good at explaining things, so I couldn’t doubt her.  I just couldn’t remember, but that was normal.

 “Master, Noelle was detained by her sister.  Jamie didn’t really believe that Noelle had found a job so quickly and thought I was in cosplay rather than being an actual maid.” explained Mila.  “I eventually did get her to believe me after showing her our website and giving in-depth detail of the types of jobs Noelle will be doing.”

 “Thank you, Mila.  Hopefully, things will be easier from here on out.” stated James with a wry smile.

 “Jamie was so excited!  She cried!  Not a sad cry, I think.  This seemed like a happy cry.  I bet she’ll tell her fiancé today.  Maybe she already has.” I considered, uncertain whether or not Jamie and Tom were doing anything today.

 “Jaaaaaaaaaaames!” exclaimed the voice of a young girl.

 When a girl with black hair, brown eyes, and a wild grin came literally flying into the room, I ducked behind the girl I had been hugging.

 “Kayla,” stated James sternly, “you were running and yelling through the halls again.”

 “Sorry, James.” mumbled the young girl.

 “So why were you looking for me?” he questioned as she met his eyes, still floating.

 “Well… Mila’s supposed to give me a ride later to see my friend, Katie, and I was wanting to go in a limo, but Mila said that we can’t take one without your permission, so I wanted to come ask you.” she rapidly explained.

 “I see.  Why do you feel you need a limo for two people?” he asked.

 “Uh… They’re cooler?” she suggested with a grin.

 “Not really.  If you were to translate the price of vehicles into equivalent coolness as you’ve been doing of late, master’s DB5 is actually the most valuable car on the lot due to the modifications done to it which exceed the modifications of the limo.  I must also point out that the original DB5 was actually more valuable as well before modifications.” argued Mila.

 James frowned as he said, “Kayla, you’re surrounded by valuable things, but how much you enjoy them for what they are matters far more.  My daughter’s paintings mean far more to me than any from most other artists around the building.  I only say ‘most’ because I have a painting from an old friend as well as one from my mother.”

 “But Dani’s like the best painter ever!” insisted Kayla, making me want to see the paintings.

 “Yet her paintings wouldn’t sell for nearly as much as some of the others around the house.” insisted James.

 “But why not!?  They’re really good!” she exclaimed.

 James smiled kindly now and said, “Dani’s artwork isn’t well enough known to sell for as much as my mother’s, much less compare with the great artists of history.  Figure out what you like best and go with it.  You know Dani always does.”

 “Is he the sweetest person ever?” I asked, wanting to hug them both.

 “Pretty much.” replied the girl in front of me.

 The smile slipped away as James asked “Did you finish your homework?”

 The girl’s feet hit the floor as she said, “Uh…  Catch you later!”  Then she quickly turned around and speed-walked out of the room.

 “She is in a way.” stated Mila.  “I’ve been increasing her load considerably to keep her busy, so she’s actually far past what her friends are studying.”

 James nodded and said, “We’ll get her tinkering with Jarod in no time.”

 “You’ll need to be the one to tell Jemal.” replied Mila with a smile.

 “Who’s Jarod?” I whispered to the girl in front of me.

 “Not sure you met him yet.  He’s usually in his lab or with his wives.” she replied.

 I nodded, and then realized what all she had said.  “Wives!?  Is he a… uh…”

 “He’s a Jarod.  You’ll see.” she told me.

 “Let’s get Noelle around for more introductions.  Mila, mind leading the way?” questioned James.

 “Would you follow me anywhere?” flirted Mila with a mischievous grin.

 “Behave.” he told her, though he smiled.

 “Mila looks similar to his wife and flirts twice as much.” whispered the girl as she pulled me up to walk beside her.  She was really pretty.

 Mila glanced back at the girl and asked “Just twice as much?  Am I failing to do your teaching justice?”

 The girl giggled and said, “Fine, ten times as much!”

 “Much better.” replied Mila as she looked forward again.

 I smelled such wonderful food that I was starting to feel hungry, but we passed from one hallway into a very large garage.  I was a bit confused when we came to a stop, but the floor started lowering under us like in some spy movie!  The drop wasn’t far before I was looking into a giant room with all sorts of machinery spread throughout it.  A group of people were around a large screen that showed a car.  Seconds ticked on by as we lowered, but we eventually reached the ground.

 “Aurora wants her own transportation.  The prototype flying car won’t be approved for city use within the year.” stated Mila.  “She also seems determined to pay for it herself.  Don’t worry.  I’m giving her our company discount on materials.”

 James nodded but didn’t comment.

 “Car?  Company discount?” I asked curiously.

 “Yes!” exclaimed the pretty girl with dyed hair.  “Mila, Jarod, and Aurora take care of everyone’s cars for us, even upgrading them as they develop better parts.” she told me, pointing out who was who as she said their names.  Pointing to a girl with curly, light brunette hair, she said, “That one may or may not help.  She is really bright, just a bit mischievous.

 “That’s so cool!  Think I could eventually pay them to work on Jamie’s?” I asked hopefully, picturing how excited Jamie would be.  “She always takes me places.”

 “I’ll be taking you places now, but we can most certainly work on your sister’s car whenever she needs something done.” insisted Mila.  “We’re best friends for hire, after all, excluding Maxine.”

 “That’s awesome!  I should get a car eventually.” I told her as I thought about it.  “If I call you, will you remind me where I park it?”

 Mila nodded and said, “I’ll also call to remind you that you parked it when your jobs are over.”

 “Really!?  That’s awesome!  I once borrowed Jamie’s and… um… we kinda spent a week looking for it.”

 “Don’t worry.  I intend to install an incredible tracking system on your keys and vehicle when the time comes.” replied Mila, smiling at me.

 “Sure you don’t want one on me too?” I teased, appreciating the idea of a key and car locator.

 “Your phone suffices when you remember it, but I’m adept at finding people even if you forget.  When you get your company enhancement suit, I’ll be able to track it.  Raine, the skittish girl you met yesterday, will find you if I cannot.” replied Mila with perfect confidence.

 “Wow.  How?” I asked, thinking Jamie would love knowing that trick.

 “Scent, probably.  She has many gifts.” stated Mila with no trace of joking.

 As I gave myself a quick sniff, trying to determine what she meant, a blonde boy with a big grin waved at us.  “Hey, guys.  Nice to meet you, Noelle.  Come check this thing out!”  The diagrams moved to even larger screens on the wall as the boy started explaining them to us.

 The explanation was really detailed, and I didn’t have a clue what he was talking about too quickly.  The best I could do is picture how the shapes would fit together, but I didn’t get what they actually did.

 “Aurora came up with this sweet composite to be used in the suspension system here.”  He pointed, and the screen zoomed in on part of the diagram.  “I’m going to have to modify everyone’s cars again if all this works as well as we think.  I’d also like you to do a bit of spellwork on it if you don’t mind.  Since this is for her use only, we left out the batteries entirely and created plans based on what we know you can do.”

 “Sure thing.” agreed James, as if spells weren’t an issue.  “Out of curiosity, what would you do if I actually declined?”

 “Well, I’ve had this idea of creating a biomechanical battery and thought a bit of Iris’ DNA might give it a little extra spark.” replied the crazed blonde boy with an even wider grin.

 “Personally, I still prefer that idea.” stated the curly-haired brunette.

 James just nodded, seeming to take the idea as nothing strange.  My eyes were probably bulging, and I was worried that I would be expected to learn… that, whatever that was.  I always did fine with math in school after I spent time going over the process, but I was terrible at remembering the terms even when I knew how to use formulas.  The whole conversation had been too much for me, and I found myself doubting whether or not I’d be able to do whatever I was supposed to do here.

[turtlesoupstories]

retrouvailles (pt 2/4)

Hi folks! Its your second weein here, coming to you live with the second chapter of our 500 follower celebration fic! This chapter has been a bunch of firsts for me! It’s my first time writing something from a Jamie perspective, and my first time writing something a little steamier! As always, thanks to Kait, Shan, and Mik for editing, and I really hope you enjoy!

Lots of Love- Marlo ( @marlosbooknook )

Read Part 1–> Here

Jamie nervously paced the crowded restaurant. He was surrounded by a sea of strange faces, a cacophony of French, English, and God knows what other foreign languages. But the one person he so desperately wanted to see remained absent. Checking his watch and suppressing a groan,  he made his way over to the bar.

She’s not coming, you daft fool.

Still, some part of him hoped that she would make her way through the door, emerging from the fog of cigarette smoke, the flickering candlelight glinting off the streaks of auburn in her riotous curls.  Jamie sat at the bar, nursing a glass of whisky, dreamily reminiscing over the stranger who had (rather ungracefully) intruded his life with a scalding cup of coffee.

He checked his phone. Nothing.

I should send her a message, make sure nothing has gone amiss. What if she’s hurt? Or there’s been an accident? Lord, let her be safe…

“Excuse me, is this seat taken?”

Jamie looked up with a start, nearly pouring his whisky on the beautiful creature perched beside him at the bar.  

How ironic.

“Jesus, Sassenach, ye nearly scared the life out o’ me!” He exclaimed. She had made it, and she looked just as elegant and picturesque as he had imagined; like a Greek statue in her black dress and strappy red heels–that just so happened to complement the crimson tie he had selected for the occasion. Her hair was pulled back into a bun, but a few curls hung loose around her face, gently caressing her ivory skin. Jamie could imagine gently tucking the strand behind her ear, and how soft the flesh at the nape of her neck would be to the touch as he so gently skimmed his hand over it.

That’s enough, Fraser.

“Sassenach? Gaelic, I assume? I sincerely hope you weren’t insulting me for my lateness. Navigating the metro is nearly impossible; I nearly ended up on the other side of Paris!”

“Och. I could never insult you, late as ye may be. Sassenach means outlander ye ken… I’d wager to say that we both fit that description right about now. Now, how about I buy you a wee dram to thank ye for allowing a mere stranger to admire your beauty.”

He could see a blush paint it’s way up Claire’s neck and across her skin. The lass has a glass face, to be sure. And a bonnie one at that.

“I’ll have whatever you’re having.” She waited until the bartender returned with her drink in hand. “And I wouldn’t call us strangers anymore, Jamie; I’d say that we’ve become rather acquainted  ever since I drenched your crisp white shirt with my americano. Glad to see you were able to find a replacement, by the way.”

She reached over and gave a quick tug on Jamie’s collar. He swallowed hard. Never in his life had he felt such an inexplicable, divine connection. Not with any of the girls his sister had tried so desperately to set him up with, nor with Annalise, his first and only comfort in Paris. Claire was nothing like them; a different creature entirely. He wished he had his camera on hand so he’d be able to capture every movement she made, every little sparkle in her amber eyes. Whether it be through fate, luck, or even pure chance, James Fraser had found his muse.

“Come, Claire, I’ve a surprise for you.”

A bemused look crossed her face, as Jamie took her hand (how perfectly it fit in his own), and helped her dismount from the barstool. As she stood,  Jamie was able to admire her once more. The dress was simple, yet it clung to her every curve, and every move she made sent a shiver down Jamie’s spine and a stirring in the pit of his stomach. She turned to retrieve her clutch from the counter and Jamie couldn’t help but stare at the slinky black fabric showcasing her glorious round arse. What he would give to feel it under his hands…

Claire turned suddenly, and Jamie quickly averted his eyes. A knowing smirk crossed her lips.

Cunning wee temptress.

“Lead the way, soldier.” Claire said, a mock salute causing Jamie to break out into a grin. She linked her arm through his, and together the pair made their way through the crowd. Muffled conversations came to an abrupt halt as they made their way past.

Claire leaned in. “Is it just me,” she whispered, “Or are they staring at us?”

“They’re staring at you, Claire. Wait just a moment and you’ll ken why…”

As they drew closer to the back of the room, the crowd dispersed, allowing the artist and his subject prime access to the display. From floor to ceiling, prints of various sizes stretched along the wall. Blurs of motion and vibrant colors greeted Jamie as he stared at the compilation of two years of dedication.  There were scenes of Parisians strolling along the Seine, freshly baked macaroons sitting in a bakery display, a couple clutched candidly in a passionate embrace. And right in the center, the star piece among the endless sea of photos, was a girl clutching a cup of coffee, eyes gazing playfully over the rim, with streams of curls flaring out from either side. Jamie watched as Claire’s eyes darted over the photos, gasping when she spotted her own.

“Is- is that from today?” She asked.

“Aye. I hope you dinna mind me using it without yer permission. The lighting was just so perfect and weel… There was something missing from the collection until that photo. Until you, Claire.”

There was no response, and Jamie felt his heart drop.

“But if ye dinna approve, I can take it down this instant. I would never wish to offend you–”

“No,” she said quietly. “Please, don’t take it down. It’s lovely. It’s just…”

“It’s just… what?”

“It’s just… that girl in the photograph; that’s not me. She’s so beautiful and full of light… I could never look like that.”

Jamie stared at her in disbelief. How could she not see the radiance exuding from within her? He grabbed her face, forced her to look him in the eyes as he used his thumb to wipe away the single tear trailing down her cheek.

“But that is you, Claire. You are that woman. D’ye ken what I named that photo?” She shook her head meekly. “It’s called Sorcha–your name, in Gaelic. It means light… and ye’ve so much light inside of ye. More light and radiance than I could ever capture on film, no matter how hard I tried. You are the most beautiful thing I ‘ave ever beheld; the very thing missing from all of these photographs. I will’na rest until ye see yourself as the rest of these people see you. As I see you.”

He stopped as Claire’s lips crashed onto his, the sweet taste of her muddled with the whisky on her tongue and the salt of her tears. He leaned in, soaking in the feel and taste of her, praying that he would drown in her embrace. She pulled away first, begrudgingly, but self-conscious of the eyes trained on her back, watching the spectacle.

Jamie whispered into her hair, “Come to my studio tomorrow. Let me prove to you how magnificent you are.”

Jamie sat in his overcrowded loft, eyes trained to the pattering rain rolling lazily down the window pane. The smell of developer filled his nostrils, a new batch of photos waiting to be brought to life sitting haphazardly on a crowded table. But they would have to wait. The ticking of the clock was a metronome, slowly driving Jamie mad.  Would Claire do what he had asked of her? He remembered the fear in the pit of his stomach as he asked her the previous night; absolutely dumbfounded when she agreed. Now, all he had to do was wait.

There was a knock at the door: a series of sharp, quick raps that sent Jamie scrambling out of his folding chair and racing toward the door. Claire stood on the other side, rain dripping off of her yellow jacket, the hood pulled unceremoniously over her head.

“It’s raining.” She said stupidly, unable to conjure up anything else as Jamie ushered her inside, hanging her coat up on the dusty rack near the door.

“Aye. I can see that.” He stifled a grin and felt Claire giggle. There was a tension in the air, the unaddressed question of whether or not they would follow through with their original plan looming over their heads. Claire looked frightened, her eyes flitting about the room, absorbing the array of equipment and antique furniture strewn about the flat.

“Lovely little space you have.” She said, walking around the room and running her fingers over the carved wood of a Victorian chair.

“‘Tis a wee bit cramped for my liking, but it serves its purpose. Should I gain a bit of notoriety, perhaps I’ll be able to afford something a bit larger.”

“Perhaps…”

Jamie could see that he needed to take charge; she needed him to guide her. He cautiously made his way to her side, gently laying a hand on her shoulder.

“We dinna have to do this, Claire.”

“No.” She turned around, finally meeting his eyes. “I want to do this. I want to know what it is you see in me.”

Jamie breathed a sigh of relief, but the flutter of nerves failed to leave his stomach.

“Then let’s begin.”

Jamie busied himself setting up his camera, choosing the perfect spot between the window and the wall. He imagined what Claire was doing just a room away, slowly shedding off her cocoon of clothing. It had taken a lot of convincing to get Claire’s acquiescence to his plan, but he had never been more sure of anything in his life.

They strolled out of the restaurant the night before, Jamie gently trying to coax Claire into his plan.

“I want to take your photograph, capture your likeness for all eternity.”

“You’ve already taken my picture. What would be so different this time around?”

“I want it to be staged. To capture you in all of your glory. You look like a goddess Claire, a grecian statue, and I want to create that illusion in print. With you.”

Claire looked at him in confusion.

“A Grecian statue? Somehow I find it incredibly difficult to picture myself looking like one of them. Besides, weren’t those all…nude?”

Jamie stopped cold. He had hoped that he would be the one to mention the caveat of his endeavor.

“Aye. They are. And, weel, I was hoping…” He rubbed the back of his neck anxiously, unsure of how Claire would respond to his… forward request.

“You want to photograph me? Naked? Jamie… I… don’t know if I can do that. I barely know you.”

“But you trust me?” He asked, hopeful. She looked at him, unsure, then bit her lip in thought. He desperately wanted her to say yes, for his own selfish pleasure of seeing her naked in the flesh, but more importantly to allow her a glimpse of the radiance from within her. All he wanted was for Claire to see herself in the same way that he did.

The pair paused, standing shoulder to shoulder along the Seine. A boat drifted lazily past, the echoes of music and lively conversation momentarily filling the silence between them. In the distance, the lights of the Eiffel tower twinkled like lights on a Christmas tree. What Jamie would give to have had his camera to capture the magic of the moment.  

Claire gazed wistfully over the water, lost in thought. All Jamie wanted to do was reach out and touch her, lay a hand reassuringly on her shoulder and confirm that she had nothing to fear from him. That he would be there for her always. That he loved her. But he couldn’t say that. Not yet, anyways. Claire needed to come to this decision on her own. He couldn’t be responsible for forcing her into a situation where she felt uncomfortable or scared. So he waited.

After what felt like an eternity, Claire at last turned to face him. The light danced in her eyes, and Jamie could feel himself going weak at the knees. He grabbed the railing for support.

“Jamie,” she began, hesitantly. “I do trust you.”

He felt himself exhale.

“I’ll do it.” She said, slowly growing more confident in her words. “But you have to promise me, that this will stay between the two of us.”

“Aye. I would’na have it any other way. Thank ye, Claire. You will not regret this. I can promise ye that.”

She linked her fingers through his own as they they continued their walk.

“Don’t make promises you cannot keep…”

Jamie was so lost in his memories of the night before, he hadn’t noticed Claire until she strolled up behind him.

“I want you to draw me like one of your French girls.” She whispered in his ear, a small laugh escaping her as she spoke.

Jamie whipped around. There she stood, completely nude; her hands gracefully placed over her chest and abdomen. He felt his eyes tracing and lingering over every inch of her, wishing to remain in that moment for eternity. Every single curve and line and ridge on her perfect flesh. His trousers suddenly seemed to be a bit tighter. He said a Hail Mary.

“Jesus Claire…” He murmured, half to himself. What did he do to deserve this nymph, this human Aphrodite before him?

“Is this ok? Will it look alright?”

“Better than alright, but I canna promise to fulfill your Jack Dawson fantasies.” She smiled. “Come. Stand in front of the camera.”

She moved slowly, unsure of her steps. If Eve had existed, unsure and soft footed in the garden of Eden, Jamie swore she would have looked just like Claire in that moment. She positioned herself, her hands still covering the most private and intimate parts of her, directly in front of Jamie. God, what he would give to touch her… Her eyes were wide and innocent, her curls splayed haphazardly around her face, a stray lock clinging to her skin, still damp from the rain.

“Don’t move, just like that.” The camera clicked.

“Was that good?” Claire inquired, frozen where she stood.

“Perfect.” Jamie responded earnestly. “Now, turn and look out the window. Yes, just like that, dinna change a thing.”

Her body turned at an angle, and he could see the elegant curve of her spine, leading down to the smooth expanse of her arse. A gray light passed through the rain on the window, sending translucent specks of light dancing across her hand. She moved her hand, ever so slightly, and Jamie could faintly see the pink of her nipple, peeking from in between her graceful fingers. Speckles of gooseflesh rippled up and down her arm, making the soft hairs stand at attention. She tilted her head to look at him, seeking reassurance in her actions, and her hair fell across her face like a waterfall of decadent chocolate.

Jamie could hardly concentrate, transfixed by the masterpiece before him. Never, in all his years, had he seen a woman so perfect in form, and never had he had the opportunity to capture the image of such a goddess. Until now. He stared through the viewfinder of his camera making sure everything was perfect, down to the last detail. The camera clicked once more. She turned again to face him, and he felt himself go weak in the knees. Yet, she still looked so unsure, so dissatisfied with herself. It needed it change.

“Move your hand. I want to see you.” She hesitated, taking a step backwards until she was flush against the peeling white plaster of the wall.

“Jamie,” She said, her voice hushed and somber. “I can’t. You don’t want to see me.”

Jamie stepped out from behind the camera, crossing over to where Claire stood in just a few strides. He placed his hands on her hips, slowly running his fingers up until they met hers, draped across her breasts.

“Yes, I do. I want to see ye. To touch ye. More than anything I have ever wanted in my life. Will ye let me?”

Claire inhaled sharply, staring into his azure eyes before nodding almost imperceptibly.

Slowly, never once taking his eyes off of Claire’s, Jamie linked his fingers with hers, gently lowering her arms until they lay limp at her side. He could see her fighting the urge to raise them again, but it faded as he slowly put a hand to her breast, running his thumb over her nipple. He caressed the skin around it before delicately running his hand down her torso, stopping at her navel.

“May I?”

“Yes.” She breathed. If there was a line, they had crossed it a hundred times over.

His hand continued along its path, grazing the inside of her thighs before reaching their destination. Claire gasped, her arms snaking around Jamie’s neck and hands rooting into his hair.

“Jamie, ” she murmured longingly. She pressed against him as he went on, feeling him hard against her abdomen.

“Jesus… God, Claire. I want ye so badly.”

“Then have me. I’m yours.”

That was all he needed to hear. He ached for her, felt himself bursting at the seams to be one with her. He needed her like he needed air. Craved her like an addict awaiting his next fix. Is this love? He wondered to himself. It had to be, for never had he felt an inexplicable pull like this before.

His lips met hers with an all consuming fire. He poured everything he had into that kiss, spilling his very soul into her. She reciprocated in kind, clutching him like a feral animal.  They held each other close and felt things that they had never felt before. The purest ecstasy of passion as they came together again and again.

Together, they were a masterpiece.

[kashmiresims]

A Moment of Peace

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Orion couldn’t go back to Cain’s place after what he had witnessed. He figured it would be better to go back to the house and try to settle his thoughts at the fact that his main squeeze was a dealer. As soon as he saw Cypress’s car parked out back, her knew his friend was home, however Orion still felt an uneasy anger toward Cypress after hearing his song being played publicly on the radio and he knew Cypress would become silently judgmental if he learned that Orion was gone all night because he had stayed with Cain. He didn’t know why Cypress cared so much about Orion’s love life--it was Orion’s choice! It was the first time in a long time he’d been able to be with Cain and didn’t regret it.

He entered the house, grabbed the stair rail, and climbed the steps with a frown on his face until he got to the top.

That was odd, the door to his room was open…he could have sworn he had closed it when he’d left the night before. As he approached he stopped cold because he found Cypress sitting on his bed, his face resting on his fist and a look of complete and utter disappointment in his eyes as Orion came into his view.

It caught him off-guard but before he could defend himself, thinking the expression was because of Cain--he noticed a few of the empty Tranquilicis bottles were pulled out of his night stand and placed on top of it. 

“What’s going on?” Orion asked, growing uneasier by the second.

“I could ask the same of you. Why do you have all these pills?”

“They help with my anxiety,” Orion told the truth and refrained from pointing out that technically, there were hardly any pills left from those bottles.

“Okay, but Tranquilicis isn’t something you get over the counter. It’s something a doctor has to write a prescription for. Do you have one?”

Orion wouldn’t outright lie to Cypress’s face, and besides Cypress had already probably found the scratched out name on the labels of the original prescription recipient. If he thought about it, he could have guessed Cain wasn’t doing things above board because Orion too, had found it odd the name was scratched out. He just didn’t question Cain because Cain was going out of his way to get Orion free pills.

“It doesn’t matter if I do or not, they help. That’s enough,” Orion grew terse and defensive.

“Are you sure you aren’t developing a dependency? This is a lot of empty bottles,” Cypress nodded to the side towards the bottles. He sounded like his mother.

Orion belted out a scornful laugh, “Yeah, like you have the ground to lecture me on becoming addicted to a substance.”

Cypress stood with frown and came closer, “Hey, we’re talking about something that’s technically illegal here. Besides, I won’t die from an overdose of nicotine.”

Orion rolled his eyes, annoyed that Cypress happened to conveniently forget all the other gross chemicals that caused health issues in cigarettes.

“I’m doing fine. You don’t have to worry about me,” Orion crossed his arms with growing frustration that Cypress was hassling him about it.

Cypress looked a bit hurt at Orion’s abrupt dismissal. But it was Orion who should have felt hurt. Cypress had stolen his music.

“So why do you look so miserable?” 

“I heard my song on the radio,” he mumbled.It wasn’t the only thing that had made him miserable but it was the one thing that directly involved Cypress.

“Why would that make you miserable?”

“Because you stole it. You recorded it, aired it, and gave it to the station without even asking me permission. I wasn’t even done with it yet–it was a work in progress and now it’s in a final form as far as anyone listening is concerned.”

“You should be recognized, and since you’re not really playing live anymore how else is your music going to reach the masses? You should be thanking me for putting my neck out on the line for you!”

“I don’t want or need to be recognized for anything!”

“But you deserve it!”

“It doesn’t matter. I don’t need anything like that – I have seen how recognition leads to fame that in turn results in an interrupted life. I am fine with just playing my music for my friends and maybe small audiences if I work up the nerve but I don’t want to be recognized for it—I just want people to enjoy it.”

“You can’t have it both ways. If you want people to enjoy it, you will have to be recognized. People don’t just listen to music in a vacuum and not want to know where it came from or who sang it, especially if they want more.”

Orion just looked at the floor, not believing he was having this argument with Cypress. They never argued.

“Besides, it was just a song about Cain, it’s not like it’s going to be your biggest hit,” Cypress couldn’t help but to seem to snark.

“Fuck off,” Orion blurted angrily. He grabbed his acoustic guitar case from the corner of his room with a rare, heightened temper and left. He stomped down the stairs while Cypress chased after him asking what his problem was and for once in his life Cypress was the problem. Orion knew he had to remove himself before he’d say anything else he’d regret.  

What would Orion do without an instrument? Without a way to make music? His prickled nerves smoothed over gradually as he strummed out some of his favorite melodies from where he sat on the park bench before surrendering to whatever music formed as an idea in his head and came out in between the strings.  It was still a brisk temperature, now slightly breezy and the leaves were starting to turn bright oranges and golds. He had to stop thinking about the feeling of betrayal. Cypress had been so rash and judgmental but if he would stop and open his eyes he would realize that Orion didn’t write that song about Cain. He wrote it to communicate his heartbreak about Cypress.

Cypress was the catalyst that made Orion realize he was attracted to men in the first place. He had been ambivalent to dating and romance in general, probably an attitude he picked up from Cypress’s asexual tendancies, but after that fateful day when he was sixteen and found Cypress’s hand in his, something just clicked inside him. It felt right.

A part of him still loved and longed for Cypress in ways Cypress wasn’t able to give to him. Maybe that’s why he tolerated such abhorrent behavior from Cain because as long as he had someone else to give his love to, he could suppress his desires toward his best friend.

Cypress had made it clear he couldn’t be anything more than just Orion’s best friend and Orion would rather die than lose such a cherished relationship, so being with Cain helped Orion in more ways than Cypress knew.

Cypress also didn’t understand how much Tranquilicis had been helping Orion manage his anxiety. It was hypocritical, for Cypress to chide Orion about the dangers of addiction when Cypress was smoking a pack of cigarettes a week.  

Orion closed his eyes and played whatever melody popped into his head, inspired by natural beats he could hear and pluck from around him—from the sounds of the city to the rustling in the leaves. This garden was a calming place, a place of refuge for artists who wanted to paint or play music. Orion had come here a few times with Nick perform for tips but that wasn’t his reason for being here now. He did it for the pure enjoyment of creation and solace. His poor brain needed a break.

His melody must have attracted a dog, for one trotted up and looked at him expectantly. A fluffy, black-furred animal that looked to be a somewhat exotic breed.

“Hi there,” Orion said, though the animal didn’t understand him. Orion felt himself smile and slapped the surface of his guitar to make a purposeful rhythm as he played and the dog sat promptly, seeming to enjoy the change by evidence of its wagging tail.

Orion couldn’t resist the dog’s fluffiness any longer. He sat his guitar on the bench and knelt down to pet it. It seemed fond of having its head rubbed right between the ears. He’d always wanted a dog but his father and sister were allergic to animal hair so all they had were birds in his family for pets.

“Sebastian!” the dog perked up at a call and Orion glanced up to see a man in a long, expensive-looking gray jacket smiling from down the path. The man said “come” in Takemizese and the dog stood and cantered over to its master.

“I’m sorry, but was he bothering you?” The man asked Orion in Simlish but there was no need. Orion was actually fluent in the first language.

“Not at all,” Orion answered in Takemizese and stood, “I ponder if he might be an admirer of music.”

His comment made the man laugh in delighted surprise and he continued to speak in his native tongue, “Sebastian has particular tastes, though I never knew he was partial to music. What name do you play under? Can I buy him an album to listen to?”

It was Orion’s turn to laugh, not sure if the man were joking or not, but it was apparent he didn’t listen to college radio, “I have not created any albums yet, but if and when I do you could find it under Orion Loche.”

“I should not keep you from your playing Mister Loche; thank you for indulging my dog though,” the man inclined his head and said to the hound, “Follow.” Orion picked up his guitar and started strumming it again, “I could indulge him to a greater capacity if that is acceptable to you; I have never had an animal as an admirer before.”

“I would be delighted if you would accompany us around the gardens,” the man smiled, “Sebastian would be too.”

It was only proven so as the dog began to wag his tail again with exuberance and sniff around Orion’s shoes.

Orion realized he was being rude and hadn’t asked the man his name, “Many apologies, but what is your name? I should have asked during our introduction.”

“It is no worry; I am called Yuzan Bao,” the man replied with a smile and then made a slight eyeroll paired with a chuckle, “Though we can continue our conversation in Simlish—I find my native language to be full of burdensome formality.”

“Fair enough,” Orion agreed and made the lingual switch.

“It’s not common to find a Kashmiri who can speak fluent Takemizese. Where did you learn?” Yuzan asked with amusement.

Orion plucked his guitar strings absent-mindedly as he explained, “I lived there when I was a child.”

“Really? Which area?”  

“Takemizu  Village. My parents had a home there. They were big into the Blue Jasmine Music Festival—did all sorts of shows for it so decided to just live there year-round and perform across the region for many years.”  He smiled remembering his youth. Takemizu Village was a small town nestled between the mountains and so when his parents played their instruments outside, the sound carried back and forth across the valley. It was pure ambrosia for the ears.  

“We moved back here when I was nine. So I had a lot of time to learn the language and I kinda had to because of school.”

Zan made an exasperated face of sympathy, “Unlucky, Schools there are so rigid. I hated the drilling—and the punishments for getting out of line.”

“I know right!?” Orion agreed, remembering how he was commanded to recite a poem from his readings and he stuttered the words, being too nervous to do it front of the class and then the teacher hit his knuckles with a yard stick for his bad etiquette. He momentarily stopped playing his guitar and flexed them, the memory triggering a ghosting sensation of pain.

That experience was probably one of the reasons he got so anxious to perform in front of people and why he was so anxious about the possibility of screwing up. This man was the first person he’d ever talked to who even could understand and related to Orion’s experience with Takemizu schooling.

Sebastian made a loud woof to remind Orion that the music had stopped. Yuzan frowned and snapped out “Rude” in Takemizese and Sebastian lowered himself onto his belly and turned over so it was exposed to Orion.

“He is apologizing,” Zan explained in Simlish, “If you give him a belly rub then he knows you have forgiven him.”

“Wow, you’ve trained your dog very well,” Orion mused handing over his guitar for Yuzan to hold while he knelt down to pat Sebastion on his belly. The canine immediately stuck out his tongue and started wagging his tail happily.

“It takes a lot of practice and discipline,” Yuzan replied, returning the guitar and then made an upward motion with his hand. Sebastian returned setting onto all four paws. Yuzan reached into a pocket of his long coat and withdrew a baggie of dog treats, opened it, and tossed one at the dog who caught it mid-air in one bite.

“You seem like to have plenty of it,” Orion smiled, and Yuzan regarded him with a raised brow and it made Orion blush a bit. Here he was, passing judgement on someone he’d just met and he felt like he was in second grade again while stumbling over his words, “What I meant is…that you look so…world class and formal and I thought…”

Orion clamped his upper lip over his bottom one and decided to play more of his guitar medley instead.

Yuzan started laughing aloud at Orion’s blunder, but it wasn’t one of ridicule—just abject amusement.

“I assure you I am not as formal as I appear—I suppose by Kashmiri standards it could be seen that way but in fact, any Takemiseze citizen would claim I’m not formal enough. It’s my curse in life.”

“Not the worst curse to have, all things considered,” Orion noted. He was thinking of his own curse, to forever be burdened by anxiety. Thank Plumbobs for that Tranqilicis and music. They were the only two things to seem to work for him anymore. Both men passed a under an arched trellis that had ivy and white flowers climbing it; where the petals were in the midst of falling off the vines and covered the path. Sebastian kept pace next to Orion, looking upward and almost seemed to be grinning with his tongue hanging out of his mouth.

They passed a garden wall in front of a fountain and Orion took a lean against it and closed his eyes. He felt a slight thump next to him and opened one eye to see that Yuzan had joined him--his back against the wall and with his hands stuffed inside his pockets. Sebastian sat patiently in front of them though made no more barks of protest but only because Orion was still playing his music.  

Orion shut his eyes again and continued, feeling a deep sense of peace playing in the gardens on this autumn day, it was in such contrast to how he felt coming into the place earlier and the turmoil he had been through since he’d woken up. r He picked up the tempo of his song. The song wasn’t really a song, just a winding, improvised string of musical notes. He wouldn’t remember it all enough to write it down. It was like a wild animal that couldn’t be caught and tamed—never to be replicated again. Yuzan and Sebastian had the privilege to listen to it and ever know it even existed.

Eventually, Orion checked the time and realized he been out far longer than he had anticipated. He walked back to his guitar case and set it inside despite the heartbreaking whimpering noises Sebastian was making as he walked away.

“I’m sorry but have to go,” he said as he clicked the case closed and pulled it over his shoulder, “It was a pleasure playing music for you and your dog.”

“Do you come to these gardens often?” Yuzan wondered, following after Orion as he made his way to the garden exit.

“I come every once and awhile,” Orion shrugged and admitted.

“I visited it for the first time this weekend and I think I have  found it’s my favorite public spot in the city.”

“Why is that?”  Orion slowed his pace and Yuzan passed him, turning around and began to walk backward so they could converse face-to-face.

“The flowers,” Zan waved his hand out with a grin, gesturing at the blooms around them that were slowly wilting with incoming colder weather. First frost had yet to occur but they were hanging onto life.

“What’s left of them at least.”

Zan nodded, “Do you have a favorite?”

“Oh, the blue ones for sure,” Orion smiled in remembrance as he kept walking forward,  “They remind me of Takemizu. We had tons of them outside our house growing in giant bushes. My mother refused to have them trimmed.”

He noticed Zan had visibly straightened himself and his grin was ever broader, “I have them growing in abundance inside my home here in Memosa Bay where they will never wilt—you should come see them if you miss them once winter comes.”

Orion stopped walking, unsure what to make of Yuzan’s offer.  He usually wasn’t this talkative or open with strangers but he felt an agreeable yet uncanny connection with Yuzan. He finally nodded, “I’d like that.”

“To be my friend?”

He was so forward about it. Orion could understand however, why the question was asked in such a way. In Takemizese culture it was considered rude or even cowardly to be anything but straightforward with someone.

Orion had never just been asked directly to be anyone’s friend before. In his experience it was a gradual occurrence. He hesitated ever so slightly to think on it. Yuzan looked to be a few years older than himself though dressed more expensive and sensible than a college student would be. Perhaps he was already graduated with an office job somewhere in the city? Orion hardly knew anything about the man except he was from Takemizu, liked dogs and flowers.

“It is, after all, hard to make new friends when you move so far away from home,” Zan lamented, taking advantage of Orion’s pause and plucked a leaf that looked about to fall from a small hedge. Orion agreed. He’d had to start all over when he moved back to Kashmire. Luckily for Orion, on his first day of school in Kashmire, a boy name Cypress Wellington was tapping out the beats to a rock ‘n roll song on his desk that Orion recognized from his father’s album collection and it prompted Orion to ask him about it. That led to conversations about music, instruments, and the best friendship they had ever known. He remembered those times with Cypress fondly and had to forgive his friend for earlier because he realized there wasn’t a deceiving bone in Cypress’s body, and he really was trying to look out for Orion’s best interests. It seemed this man was looking for something similar.  

Yuzan still was waiting for an answer. He seemed so hopeful. Orion could understand the struggle at being a newcomer to the region and it wasn’t pity but understanding that made him nod in sudden earnest and stick his hand out, “Yeah, I’ll be your friend.”

Genuine happiness erupted across Yuzan’s features and he took Orion’s hand in his to give it a cordial shake, “Call me Zan.”

[theinboxmemebook]

Possibly making a new RP blog? Follow this tutorial!

Hello! Have you been possibly wanting to start a new RP blog, but have never done so before? Well you’re in luck! I’m here to show you the ropes on creating your very own RP blog! I will be putting it under a read more, since this post will indeed be long!

Let’s begin!

First off, I will go over the necessities of an RP blog. You are required to have these in order to launch your RP blog into effect.

1.   URL

Before you even make the blog, coming up with a URL can be rather tough. If the character you are RPing as doesn’t have their name as a URL claimed yet, claim it. Having a Canon URL for an RP blog can be very useful with getting out there, especially if of a well-known franchise, because it grabs the attention of other RPers. Even if your character is original, try to claim their name if possible.

Some alternatives if this doesn’t work: Make your URL a brief description of them. Some examples, such as Mario from the “Mario Bros.” franchise could be named “redplumber”. Just experiment until you find one that sounds well enough and can describe your character.

Some side notes:

If you are multimuse, a good suggestion is their name as a group. For example, continuing with the “Mario Bros.” franchise, you could be “mushroomkingdomkeepers”, or “bowsersminions”.

Some people tend to put “c”s and “x”s in placement of vowels in URLs if the URL they want is already claimed. So, if “redplumber” was taken, you could be “redplumbxr”.

Despite all of the examples shown, you can have dashes in your URL. “red-plumber” can also work.

2.       About/Rules page.

There is a 99% chance you won’t get anybody to do threads with you if you don’t have one of these. (Or both, depending on the strictness of people). The about page can describe you, the mun, alongside with your muse. Remember, your AU, your own muse will be different despite canons. Be sure to list off any nicknames, fears, likes, dislikes, etc. for your character.

A good source to fill out for your muse to put in your about page: http://slytherinsheiress.deviantart.com/art/Very-Very-Basic-Character-Sheet-340098566

Another good thing to put in your about page is what type of style you RP in. There’s many different styles of RPing. These can include: One line, a few sentences, paragraph, multi-paragraph, novella. Your styles will vary, so be honest and put the one you most normally do.

Most script-styled RP blogs will use either One line or a few sentences, while story-styled RP blogs will stick to paragraph/multi-paragraph responses. Rarely will you find a novella style RPer, however, they tend to be very high quality.

As for your rules page, don’t be afraid to list off things that make you uncomfortable. People need to know the boundaries they need to respect when RPing with you. If you don’t say a thing about them, then chances are it can possibly happen.

Some really good ideas to put in your rules:

Specify if your muse(s) is interested in getting into a romantic/sexual relationship Specify if you’ll do NSFW RPs. Specify what your requirements are for RPing with someone (Rules page, types of replies, possibly.) Be sure to try your best and be descriptive. Just don’t be too much, or you can come off intimidating.

Side notes: For most people, their RP style is somewhere around paragraph and multi-paragraph, and they will normally be okay with multisentence replies. Rarely will you find multi-paragraph RPers that tolerate one-line replies.

3.       Introductory post.

As for your introductory post, this is the first thing most people will see off of you, and probably your only post that will get reblogged by multiple people. You want to make sure that it’s appealing. Most formats of RP blogs tend to have this style for their introductory post:

(Picture of their muse(s))

(Brief description of muse(s), or quote(s) that describe muse(s))

(Describing the blog you are running, basically, keeping the “Mario Bros” example: “RP Blog for Mario from Super Mario Bros.”

(links to their Rules/About/Ask pages)

Side notes: Pictures mostly stay as edited versions of canon pictures, if said character is canon.

Pictures will say what type of RP blog you run aswell.

There are mainly 4 types of RP blogs you can run. Well, technically 3.

Not Selective: You are willing to RP with literally anyone that goes into your inbox. And you mean anyone. This includes crossovers from fandoms that you may not be familiar with. Any style of RPing would be permitted.

Semi-Selective: You are willing to RP with people who are within your boundaries of fandoms, maybe even some other fandoms you are familiar with. You will generally search through their blog yourself before deciding on doing threads with them.

Selective: You will pick the people you RP with, and you are very strict and closed about who you do threads with.

Private: RP blog was most likely just made to RP with a few friends, and you have a very low chance, probably less than 1%, of starting a thread with them if you aren’t already their friend.

4.       Interactions

This part will be a little short, mainly due to there being only 1 point to this. There may be people that come to you, requesting threads due to your introductory post. There are no guarantees, however. You will need to branch out and locate other RP blogs that catch your interest if you want to start threads. Not just that, but you’ll start threads with people you enjoy, as well. If you’ve been wanting to make an RP blog to try and interact with that one semi-selective person, now’s your chance to go for it! Be sure to read their rules, however, to make sure that they’re open to discussing possible threads with new people. Some people aren’t cool with getting stuff like that in their ask box/messenger.

 Now, we can move onto the optional things!

5.       Icons

Icons will be a picture of your muse doing an emote that you can place into your threads to give it more life! People will see visibly how your muse is feeling by the actions that just happened to them before, and it gives a clearer image of how they feel. Most of these you see before the muse says dialogue, and most icons end up showing different emotions. Most blogs normally have a handful of them.

WARNING: DO NOT STEAL ART AND EDIT THEM TO USE THEM AS ICONS. YOU MUST ASK THE FORMER ARTIST FOR PERMISSION TO EDIT/USE THEIR ART AS ICONS. IF THE ART IS YOUR OWN, YOU MAY PROCEED. IF THE ARTIST AGREES TO LET YOU USE THEIR ART, YOU MAY PROCEED. IF THE ARTIST SAYS “NO”, DO NOT ARGUE, AND FIND OTHER POSSIBILITIES. Artists can get distraught from people not asking permission before using their art for RP blogs. Please be sure to ask and receive permission before using it. Canon pictures are permitted.

6.       HTML

While also not a requirement, you may notice the amount of RP blogs that have smaller text in their replies than most Tumblr text posts. In order to achieve this small text size, to reduce the overall size of your thread on everyone’s dashboard, you must do the following:

-     Make a new Text Post

-     Click on the gear on the upper right corner

-     Click “text editor”, and click “HTML”

-     To get small text, type in <small> before you type your words, and </small> afterwards.

-     Be sure to type in </small> at the end of a paragraph and retype <small> upon a new paragraph.

-     Example: <small> There was always a short amount of time. </small>

 Your RP partners will appreciate this!

 7.       Trimming

If your posts aren’t trimmed, chances are, you won’t get so many threads. Be sure to trim your threads after a couple of replies, because if you don’t, your followers will have to suffer scrolling through the longest dashboard ever! I made a tutorial on trimming posts on my main blog quite a long time ago: http://ask-the-fnaf-cast.tumblr.com/post/152133123381/tutorial-on-trimming-rp-posts

I hope this post has really helped you begin setting up finding the key to unlock your door in the RP universe! Please also remember the singular most important thing in running an RP blog: HAVE FUN!

[hanverses]

Character Development Questions

taken from @au-rp-prompts (x)

  MUSE: CHOI HAN BIN

1: Describe their routine of a normal day/how do they feel when this routine is disrupted?

Ever since he takes a break from college, Han Bin doesn’t have a regular schedule to follow. He wakes up whenever he wants to wake up, and the rest of his day will continue from there. Because of this, he’s more of a night owl who works until late at night. After waking up, he will look for coffee first to give him a quick boost. He will brush his teeth and go out to the grocery store after and look for brunch. Most of his time spent at home, working on his webcomic

2: Greatest strength?

He is very persistent and wants to pursue things he likes, including doing things that support it. He likes to learn and experience new things since Han Bin needs it as art reference for his comic work.

3: Greatest weakness?

Because of his passionate trait, sometimes people see him as an arrogant person who will do anything to achieve his goal. When he achieves something, he tends to brag about it not because he wants to receive compliments, but because he’s proud of tackling any obstacle to get the best result.

4: What one thing would your muse change about themselves?

He wishes he could organize his time better and uses his time wisely. at times, he might be slacking off and proscracinate, which is bad when the deadline is approaching yet he hasn’t finished the next project.

5: Introverted or extroverted & why ?

eventhough it’s stated that he is an introvert in his profile, Han Bin maybe an ambivert, where he can enjoy spending time with people but also likes to be alone to recharge himself. Being pressured with his education followed by pursuing a job which requires a tight schedule, sometimes Han Bin would like to let out his stress by meeting his friends or just talk with his family.

6: Organised or messy & why ?

He is quite messy when it comes to putting back things to its original spot. He can grab one thing and sloppily leave it anywhere and gets frustrated when he can’t find it again later on.

7: What three things do they consider themselves to be very good/bad at?

Three things he’s good at: drawing,writing (he’s ambidextrous), throwing jokes

Three things he’s bad at: discipline, being neat, holding back his opinion

8: Do they like themselves?

Han Bin is okay with himself. He doesn’t see himself as the most attractive person, but it doesn’t mean he is careless to his appearance. When it comes to people giving their opinion on him, he might take it to heart but doesn’t speak it out loud. He rather fixes his wrongdoings quietly or personally talks to certain people when he knows he’s in the wrong. What can irritate him is when he sees people getting hurt when Han Bin is being too honest.

9: What are the reasons for their profession? Are the REAL reasons different than what they TELL others?

Han Bin has always been interested in art, especially drawing, ever since he was in grade school. He got great marks from Art Class and often times joined a competition which increased the school reputation. Even so, as he got older, many adults including his teachers and parents told him that working as an artist wouldn’t take him far in life. And with his smart brain, they’d rather support Han Bin to pursue different field in life. Those desertion toward his dream only pushes Han Bin to try harder to become a comic writer. It took him years to finally make his debut and release a hit series, which he only did to prove those people wrong.

10: Where do they see themselves in five years?

In five years, Han Bin would like to make a massive hit of comic series to the point producers will line up and ask his permission, just so his work can be turned into a TV drama or a movie. He also dreams to receive a grand award for his artwork, even working with foreign artists who recognize his talent.

11: How do they want to die?

There are stories of artists who die during work, but Han Bin doesn’t want to end his life like that. He would rather die in an accident which kills him on the spot, whether in the car or the plane, during his leisure time. Just so people don’t pity him for dying as a workaholic, but as a person who dies after achieving the best in life.

12: What would they want to be remembered for?

Han Bin would like to be remember as a comic artist who can touch the readers’ hearts. He would like to make comics that make people think about their lives, enjoy their lives, and feel any sort of emotions.

13: What three words do they use to describe their personality?

ambitious, sloppy, smart

14: What three words would YOU (the mun) use to describe their personality?

arrogant, smart, passionate

15: What advice, as the mun, would you give to your muse?

Even though he hasn’t developed enough, I think I would like to see the progress where Han Bin can humble himself. There is a plot that’s planned happening soon, and I hope from there I can see his development from being arrogant.