#band director oc

[chloroformcurry]

I will see this and go hell yeah

(Vishes, from December)

[mercurygray]

Writing Pattern Game

Got tagged by both @shoshiwrites and @venus-haze -thanks, friends!

Rules: Share the first line of your last ten published works or as many as you are able and see if there are any patterns!

---

It’s really too easy, finding a meal. (untitled drabble, Dick Winters x Joan Warren,Vampire Joan AU)

He’s been staring out the window for a while, it seems. (untitled drabble, Dick Winters x Joan Warren, Vampire Joan AU, part 2)

The morning after VE day found the company somewhat …reorganized. (The Darkening Sky, Chapter 50)

He hasn’t planned on being here at all. (untitled SAS Rogue Heroes drabble, Mike Sadler x Daphne)

She’d never intended to be caught. (untitled Billie Mitchell x Ron Spiers drabble, Rev War AU

It was a fine night for a phone call. (untitled drabble, postwar Chuck Grant + Niamh O'Connell)

He was sleeping on someone’s lap. (untitled drabble, Floyd Talbert x Molly Mahoney)

It was sunny today, in Newport - too sunny for her mother, at that. (untitled TDS drabble, Joan Warren x Dick Winters, 1890s Gilded Age AU)

He had a 48 hour pass and an absolutely clear idea of how he was going to spend it. (untitled drabble, Lewis Nixon x Eileen Hammond)

Heaven save her from the Darrowby housewife. (untitled drabble, All Creatures Great and Small OC Isabel Corbett.)

--

Patterns:

Someone told me once they really liked my short punchy first sentences and I ...really took that to heart, because...

...I know that I am a fan of a long sentence, and I don't want to lose anyone, you know?

I try to make it a point not to mention a character's name, just to give you the chance to get settled before you figure out who the camera is following?

I was also told once to never start with dialogue, which is a rule I understand the reasons for and try to follow.

Tagging @coco-bean-1218, @mads-weasley, @latibvles, @jump-wings, @bobparkhurst, @almost-a-class-act, @softguarnere, @hesbuckcompton-baby, and anyone else writing for BoB right now that I might have overlooked!

[softguarnere]

Like A Girl (Like A Man)

Shifty Powers x OFC

Chapter 11: Gosvnoyi Dvninvi

Summary: Zenie’s throat is dry when she issues the challenge. “Flash!”

A/N: The moment we've been waiting for: D-Day

(I couldn't figure out the Cherokee translation for D-Day, so this chapter title translates to "tonight they are falling to the ground")

Warnings: guns, war, language

Taglist: @liebgotts-lovergirl @latibvles @mrs-murder-daddy @lieutenant-speirs

The skies, 1944

The equipment is weighing her down, slapping heavily against her in some places and rubbing her raw in others as she moves, always upward, upward, upward. No matter how many bends she rounds, thinking to herself that surely this will be the top, Currahee always reveals more of the trail that unravels ahead of her.

The trees are half bare, allowing her to catch glimpses of the blue mountains and sprawling town off to her left. She’s scrambling toward the top, but none of the scenery ever seems to get more distant.

I’ll meet you at the top, a voice in her head promises her.

Sometimes when they run the mountain, Zenie feels like if she could just move fast enough, she would be able to outrun something; to break free from it all. Now, she’s running alone, and it feels like something is after her – perhaps all the things that she’s trying to leave behind are catching up with her.

I’ll meet you at the top.

She rounds the last corner. She recognizes this one. There’s the rock outcropping at the top!

The trail is so steep and her equipment so heavy that Zenie is practically on her hands and knees as she scrabbles up the homestretch.

As promised, a figure is standing at the end of the trail. They’re facing away from her, hands on their hips as they stare out over the edge of the mountain. Even though Zenie is gasping for air and sending gravel spraying from beneath her boots, they never show any indication that they hear her coming. Or maybe they just don’t care.

A few more steps and she’s there. She made it! The top of Currahee welcomes her once again.

Instead of stopping, she pushes herself onward, hand outstretched to the figure in front of her. She’s not sure what comes over her. She grabs the person’s shoulder and turns them around to face her, only to see –

Herself.

She jolts awake. Around her, darkness. The engine of the C-47 roars as they tremble through the sky. Loud as it is, she thinks that she can sometimes hear the whispers of those around her as they cross themselves. Maybe she’s imagining it.

She could be imagining anything and everything. Ever since she took that pill, she’s felt unsteady and a little giddy. The cool night air from the doorway of the plane is refreshing. If she closes her eyes, it’s like being on their first nighttime practice jump.

Across from her, Bill catches her eye. He’s whispering something to himself. Methodically, he thumbs through the beads on his rosary. He nods to her but doesn’t stop. She nods back and leaves it at that.

Her eyes wander back to the doorway. The very doorway she’ll be throwing herself out of soon.

But at the moment, it looks like a portal to another world. Inky blackness forms the night sky, although every now and then there’s a flash of light, like heat lightning flickering over the mountains on summer nights back home. Every now and then she can hear popping, like gravel pinging off the sides of a truck. For a split second, all seems still as history holds its breath.

Everything after that moves quickly.

The red light by the door comes on. No sooner is it washing them in its glow then they hear the call.

“Get ready!”

Zenie still feels icky from the pill, but any giddy or dreamy feelings gained from it are quickly lost. She snaps into action, holding up the hook for her static line just like everyone else.

“Stand up!”

They’ve done this so many times that they don’t even jostle into each other when they stand.

“Hook up!”

All the flashing lights from outside the plane are growing more frequent, the sounds that accompany them becoming louder. The plane shudders as they follow the last instruction.

Hardly any time passes between the call for equipment check and the order to sound off for it. From behind, she can hear the rustlings of fabric on fabric as men pat each other down. She’s jostled as she receives her pat down followed by the cry of, “Seven okay!”

She feels the man in front of her, relying on touch to make sure that everything is where it’s supposed to be. When she yells “Six okay!” she practically screams it, just to make sure that she’s heard through the haze and the noise; she doesn’t want something going awry all thanks to her and her inability to speak up when it counts.   

When the last voice calls out, they all wait for the red light to turn green. The sounds of antiaircraft fire are becoming closer and more frequent. She can hear the telltale sounds of metal on metal as the planes are hit. Is the one she’s on taking too much fire?

The plane shudders in response and pitches to the left, causing all the paratroopers in the stick to stumble as they try to stay upright. The pilots manage to right them, sending them scrambling as they try to keep in line. Even with all the darkness outside, it’s evident that they’ve lost altitude.

A deep moaning sound fills the sky around them. Through the doorway, she catches a glimpse of the back half of a C-47 as it falls to the earth. It looks like a comet streaking through the night sky. The front half of the plane is nowhere to be seen.

“Christ, we gotta go!” Someone yells out.

“We ain’t high enough!”

“The light’s not green!”

If they keep losing altitude, they’ll never get to see the light turn green. They’ll never make it out of the plane. That seems like a worse fate than anything that awaits them in the air outside. Zenie’s heart races as she thinks about pushing past the others in the stick so she can just get this jump over with.

Green washes over them. It’s the moment they’ve anticipated, but for a second, everyone remains still, like they can’t believe it’s actually happening.

“Let’s go! Let’s go! Let’s go!”

One by one, the paratroopers in front of her fling themselves out of the plane. Nothing but a silky stream is left behind them as their unopened parachutes slip out of their packs. A few people yell a triumphant Currahee! or Geronimo! as they go. Some of them just yell.

Laughter almost bubbles up in Zenie’s chest. She’s yelled Currahee! on all their practice jumps, just to take her mind off of what awaits her below. Her friends hardly ever seemed to echo the call. Shifty usually just let out a string a cuss words that always seemed so unlike him. But when you need something to yell, anything will do.

She’s next in line. Her Mae West popped back in England. She can only hope she doesn’t land in water. She can only hope that she makes it to the ground.

She’s in the doorway. “Holy shit,” she whispers as she approaches the precipice.

Before she can overthink it, she throws herself out of the plane, “Currahee!” on the edge of her lips. The night is so loud when she sails through the door that it gets lost in all the noise. She’s sure that she counts the faithful one thousand, two thousand, three thousand, four thousand! before her static line unhooks, but her words disappear into the night. A shock runs through her body as her parachute opens behind her, filling with air and slowing her descent into the madness that is taking place all around her.

Brightly colored tracers light up the night sky like an Independence Day celebration. Popping explosions sound off from every direction. She cringes, hoping they don’t get too close to her. Tugging on her parachute’s risers won’t do her any good if she doesn’t know which way they’re coming from.

A roar like a lion comes from overhead as a plane spirals down towards the earth. It meets the cold and unforgiving embrace of the ground below. An orange glow like a distant campfire lights up the ground below as the plane is engulfed in flames. It’s too far away for her to have to worry about, but Zenie pulls on her risers anyway. To think that only a few moments before she had been most worried about landing in water seems absurd now.

Knees and feet together, just like she was taught, Zenie still topples over when she hits the ground. She frees herself from her parachute before worrying with her weapon –

Which is gone. Her leg bag is no longer attached to her leg. Shit.

Staccatos from the distance grab her attention. Right, she’s got a job to do. But how to do it with no supplies . . .

Luckily, she didn’t land in water. Squinting through the darkness, she can make out the clearing that she’s in. A field of some sort, maybe. Trees and shrubs lie a few feet behind her. It’s too dark to tell if they lead into a denser wood or if they just denote a property line. Either way, they could provide cover, should she need it.

“Ha!” A few feet away, an oblong shape rests in the grass. Wasting no time, Zenie rushes to her bag and rips it open.

Except that it’s not her bag. Nothing inside is organized the way that she packed hers. In her rush, maybe she could convince herself that things got tossed around during the fall. But the rifle inside is distinctly not her M1 Garand – it looks like the Lee-Enfields that she’s seen the British carrying around back in England.

Okay, not her leg bag. But at least now she has a weapon and ammo.

There’s no time to feel bad about taking someone else’s leg bag. Ahead of her, through the darkness, a figure appears. Thanks to Sobel’s night marches, Zenie can usually make out any of the men from her company in the darkness.

None of this figure’s mannerisms are familiar, though. It moves slowly, like it hasn’t seen her yet – or like it’s hoping that she hasn’t seen it.

Zenie’s throat is dry when she issues the challenge. “Flash!”

The figure freezes. No response.

Maybe he didn’t hear her? She gulps before trying again, a little louder. “Flash!”

This time he definitely hears her. He starts moving forward, charging her.

There’s no time to think. Zenie lifts the rifle, aims, and pulls the trigger.

Bang! He stumbles backward. Bang! It’s like watching a puppet get its strings cut. The German soldier falls to the ground, dead. It’s as simple as that.

Zenie lowers her rifle and stares at the motionless figure on the ground. “Oh my – “

“Flash!”

On instinct, she raises the rifle again as she swings around to where the voice came from. In the foliage a few feet behind her, a figure is crouched down, watching her.

“Thunder!” She replies, hoping the night doesn’t swallow up her voice.

The figure in the tree line stands and takes a step forward.

“Shifty!” She starts toward him at the same time. They rush to each other. Euphoria at having found a familiar face in this fearsome and strange place washes over her. It doubles over the fact that it’s his face.

“You got him,” Shifty says. He places a hand on her arm. He’s so close when he whispers, “Are you okay?”

Zenie nods, stepping closer, closing what little space there is between them. Her heart is slamming against her ribcage as it tries to break free. She wonders if Shifty can hear it. She can’t answer over its pounding. And certainly not with the way that he’s looking at her, so full of concern.

Their eyes meet. Her breath hitches in her throat.

The next thing that she knows, they’re both leaning toward each other, her face angled slightly upward while Shifty bends down a little. There’s a second’s pause, like they’re asking each other for permission, and then her eyes are squeezed shut and her lips are crashing into his.

Shifty’s lips are slightly chapped. It doesn’t matter to her. And nothing about hers seems to matter to him. The only thing that matters is that for just a moment, the outside world comes to a grinding halt while they create their own little universe for just the two of them. Philosophers and scientists would marvel at the sweet isolation they’ve created in the midst of this chaos and call it heaven on earth.

When they part for air, they rest their foreheads against each other, even with their helmets in the way. Still, she can see into his eyes. See how they light up the darkness with his smile. He’s smiling – at her! The thought fills her with such giddiness that something between a giggle and a sigh of relief bubbles up in her chest. For so long, looking at Shifty felt like trying to catch a glimpse of the sun; something that could only be done in quick glances. Now, as they look into each other’s eyes, it feels like she’s looking at the moon – something that is possible and familiar and lovely.

“Did we really just do that?” Zenie gasps.

“Lord have mercy,” Shifty breathes.

Privately, Zenie thinks maybe He already has. What, short of a real-life miracle, could have allowed someone as good and as kind as Shifty Powers to look at her in this way?

Are you okay? he had asked her. She didn’t answer his question. What could she have said after having just killed a man? Now, though, she feels more than okay. With him here –

Him. Shifty. Here.

Zenie pulls away and breaks the boundaries of their little bliss and regrets it immediately. But she has to know, to get her bearings. Because if Shifty, from third platoon, is here with her, from second –

“Zena?”

“Oh my God,” she whispers in disbelief as she glances around the dark field. “I’m in the wrong goddamn Drop Zone.”

“Oh.” Shifty looks around, his face falling a bit. “Or maybe I am?”

Despite it all, Zenie finds herself smiling. “Maybe we both are.”

If she has to be lost, she’s glad it’s with Shifty.

“Maybe so.” He smiles back at her. His hand lingers near her elbow and her hand still rests on his chest. He seems reluctant to part from the remnants of their privacy when he suggests, “We should probably get movin’. Try to find some others.”

In the distance, the scattered staccatos of gun fire pop off in the night. The war – the very thing that brought them together – is being waged all around them. It’s ever present and inescapable. They’ve had their moment of peace within it. Now it’s time to get back to reality . . . and to hope it won't tear them apart.

Before they do, Zenie leans in – deliberately this time, to give him warning in case he wants to stop – and kisses him again. It’s quicker this time, and she can feel him smiling into it. When they’re done, she grabs the British leg bag she found, intent on carrying it with them, since its owner clearly won’t be using it. She gives Shifty a nod to signal that she’s ready.

He returns the gesture. Then they walk into the darkness – into the unpredictability of war – side by side.

Together.

[chubbletea]

so militaries can have marching bands, right?

what if the toppat clan had a marching band? or like just a band in general

[aggrevatedhammerhead]

IM FREEEEE

[wildernessuntothemselves]

Jealousy, Jealousy... | Part 6

A/N: don't even have a summary for this. oc is in love with gyu and gyu is in love with another girl but both are virgin losers and gyu is a horndog who would let oc do what she wants to him just as long as he gets to cum.

Word count: 6.2k

Genre: Smut, angst, fluff

Warnings: fem!reader, loss of virginity, PIV sex, fingering, brief pussy licking, sub!reader, dom!yeonjun.

Despite what Beomgyu said, he and Haeun seem to have become an item, just as you and Yeonjun are now. They’re always together, as you are with Yeonjun, and it’s like you and Beomgyu don’t even know each other anymore. He’s always hanging out with her and you’re always hanging out with Yeonjun. You hardly see Beomgyu anymore, which makes it weird the way he’s sitting on your bed, watching you get ready just like old times. 

You remember how you and he used to play a game sometimes as you got ready where you’d pick out various outfits and try them out for Beomgyu, giving him a mini-fashion show that he would narrate as if it was a football game, going on about how groundbreaking the designs are and how pretty the model (you) looks. 

He was your main supporter in going into fashion as a major. You don’t think you would’ve had the courage to do it without him. He always believed in you and stood by you even when your parents were upset at you for choosing a career with such an uncertain future. He told you that if one of you succeeds, you’ll just pull the other up too. If his music career takes off, he’ll contract you to be the creative director for the band and if your fashion career takes off, you’ll have to hire him as your model. And if you both fail…well you’ll be strippers together.

You laugh as you remember your promise and turn back towards Beomgyu, who was sitting on your bed watching you. “Hey, remember our backup plan? That we’ll make a two-man stripper show to repay our student debt?” 

But Beomgyu doesn’t share your laughter. Instead he just hums, focusing on your dress. 

“What? You don’t like it?” You ask, insecure. You’re not used to wearing something this extravagant but Yeonjun is taking you to a photography exhibition tonight and he told you it’s gonna be really fancy. 

You’re not sure if being stressed out and sweating as you try not to get judged by all those more talented and influential people is the best idea for a date but Yeonjun insisted that if you wanted to get into fashion, you have to start mingling. 

You didn’t even have a proper dress. You had to wear something you made for a fallen goddess shoot you had in mind, but by the look Beomgyu is giving you, it’s probably trash. 

"Does it matter?" He asks and you frown. "What do you mean?"

"It means that with what you're wearing, I don't even know why you’re bothering going on a date when you can just invite him over and let him fuck you now, skip the formalities." 

"You're unbelievable." You spit out, trying to hide the dread filling your chest and making you struggle to breathe. Yes, the dress was a bit more revealing than you’re used to, but it’s an art event, people wear this stuff there all the time.  

“Where did you even get this dress?” He asks in distaste and you hold your head up high. “I made it.” 

That makes him back down, his eyes visibly softening as regret shows on his face. “Oh… It’s pretty.” 

You snort in disbelief. "Why are you even here, Beomgyu?"

He shrugs. "Just watching this shitshow go down."

“Right.” You mutter bitterly, "I guess it was too much to expect you to act like a friend." 

"I am your friend.” He says as if declaring it is enough to make it true. “I'm your best friend." 

"I wouldn't be so sure."

He jumps off the bed when he hears that, quickly getting in front of you. "What does that mean?” 

"Nothing. I'm going to be late." You try to get past him but he won’t let you. "No. What do you mean by that? You said I'd never lose you."

"Yeah, that was before you transformed into this asshole who accuses me of trying to sabotage his career and calling me a slut for daring to date."

He moves back, stunned at your words, and you almost laugh. Is he really surprised? "I'm just… working through some stuff."

"Stuff? That's your excuse?" You ask incredulously and he looks away. Is “stuff” worth what he’s done to your friendship?

"It's just hard for me to see you with him." He finally admits and you sigh. Not this again. "Beomgyu, I know you’re worried about your band, but Yeonjun and I are adults, even if we break up, that doesn't mean–"

"It's not about that." He shakes his head, cutting you off. 

"Then what is it?" You ask, frustrated. Frankly, you’re at your rope’s end with his weird behavior. 

"You're too good for him."

"What?” You reel back. Now, this is new. “Is it because he sleeps around? Because we’ve talked about it and he insisted that just because he's had many casual relationships before doesn't mean he's gonna cheat on me. We've been together for a while now and he has been nothing but wonderful to me."

He really has. You don't know what's wrong with you. Why can't you love him the way you love your asshole best friend? Maybe it will come with time? You've known Beomgyu for years and your love for him didn't develop overnight. Maybe you just need to give your relationship with Yeonjun more time. 

You hope it doesn't take years to get over Beomgyu and fall in love with Yeonjun though. 

"It's not that. It's not him. You're too good for everyone." 

"Beomgyu…" You walk towards him and hold his hands. "I know you're not used to me going out with guys because, well, I've kind of lead a fairly loser-ish life--you know, you've been there– and maybe me and Yeonjun won't end up working out and maybe I'll end up hurt but I can't just be virginal forever. I have to try to find someone for me."

"But you have someone." He pulls you towards him, resting his forehead against yours as he plays with your hands. "Me." 

That hurt more than any mean thing he has ever said to you and he doesn't even mean to hurt you. He has been terrible to you all this time because he thinks you deserve more? Because he wants things to stay the way they are? That is fucking absurd and so infuriating. Why couldn't he have just told you that instead of acting like an ass? Not wanting to lose you doesn’t mean he gets to order you around. Being worried about you doesn't give him the right to treat you like a stupid slut. 

"Don't be stupid." You say harshly, making him flinch. You try again, softer this time, not letting the anger and pain through as much. "I know I have you but I need more."

"More what? Why can't things just stay the way they are? We have fun together, right? I make you laugh. I'm there for you when you're down. We've even messed around. What can he give you that I can't?" 

Love. You need love and even though Beomgyu loves you very much, it's not in the way you need.

"Beomgyu, you’re being very childish about this. We're not twelve anymore. I know you’re scared that we'll drift apart if I find someone but the only reason we’ve been drifting apart is because of your behavior. I can't keep coddling you. You may not like it because it’s only been you and I until now, but it's time for me to find an actual boyfriend instead of this–this joke I have with you." 

Maybe you’re being too harsh on him but you’re honestly too hurt to sugarcoat it anymore. And you also need to hear it yourself. What you have with Beomgyu isn't real and you need to face the fact that it will never be. "I need someone to actually love and to hold and to be my other half. Us messing around together is just that, messing around, nothing more. I need something real. You do too. I mean you're finally with the woman you've been chasing after for years. Do you really wanna throw that away just because you're scared?"

Still, seeing the way he becomes quiet after your outburst, looking away from you and not responding… maybe you could’ve been nicer about it. 

“Beomgyu…” You sigh, reaching out to turn his face towards you but he pushes your hand away, refusing to meet your gaze. 

"Go. You’re late for your date." He grits out and you look at the time. Crap. You are! 

You look at him again, seeing the tension in his jaw and shoulders, something that resembles pain etched on his features. Should you stay and work this out for him or go on your date? If you stay, you’d be choosing him yet again. If you stay then you’ll just teach him that all he needs to do is act out and you’ll cave and do what he wants. No, you need to make some changes. That’s what you promised Yeonjun when you and him decided to become exclusive. Beomgyu can’t come first anymore. 

"I have to go. Let’s talk about this later." You step back, ignoring the hurt in his eyes as you grab your bag and head for the door. 

____________________

When Yeonjun said the place was fancy, he wasn’t kidding. You’re blown away right now, surrounded by people you’ve only known about through magazine spreads and hours of admiration through the internet. You can’t believe you’re here in the same room with such talented artists and creators. 

You feast your eyes on the multiple displays from different photographers and artists, analyzing their technique, their vision, and their subject, and you’re just in awe. This is exactly where you should be, mingling with the others in your field, making connections, building a network… except you haven’t really gotten the hang of socializing yet. You’re too nervous to talk to anyone. You just stand silently next to Yeonjun as he charms his way through the crowd, joking there, throwing a compliment here or purring a small flirty line that has the other party blushing. 

He can turn it on for anyone. He’s so good you can’t help wondering where his charming nature ends and his actual affection for you begins. How do you know he’s not just charming you the same way he charms everyone else? 

“Do you like it?” Yeonjun asks, and you snap out of your thoughts. You look around to see that everyone around you has left and you’re standing alone with him. “Huh?” 

“You’ve been staring at this particular shot for a long time. Do you like it?” He laughs and you shake your head. “Not really.”

“Really? Why not? It’s well shot, the composition is good, the set design is top-notch and the clothes really complement the atmosphere.” 

“That’s all true.” You agree, and he laughs–his sweet tinkering laugh that makes you smile.  “Then what’s the problem?”

“I don’t like the model. It’s obvious the photographer was going for a femme fatale look but she doesn’t deliver. She’s supposed to have the face of an angel but the aura of the devil. She has to convey the monster within but she’s so afraid of not looking pretty, it just comes across as if she’s putting on an act rather than losing herself in the madness of it.”

“You really don’t like her, huh?” He laughs, and you furrow your eyebrows. “Well, it’s not really her fault so much as it’s the fault of the photographer. They should be directing the model on how to act and correcting them when they’re doing something wrong. This model is obviously gorgeous and she has the potential in her to look fierce, but with a weak direction like this, all you get is what basically amounts to a child dressing in her mother’s clothes.” 

You hear someone huff behind you and turn around to see a very disgruntled man. “And to whom do I owe this very shrewd commentary on my work?” 

Oh, shit. Oh, fuck. 

“I–I am… I’m nobody.” You squeak, wishing the monster from the next picture over would jump out of the frame and swallow you whole right now. 

“That’s right, you are nobody.” The man haughtily agrees. 

“Hey, man, she’s just giving her opinion.” Yeonjun attempts to interject but the man pays him no mind. “I am an award winning photographer. I don’t take the juvenile half-baked opinions of nobodies. Come back when you’ve actually achieved something that could hold a candle to what I’ve done over my career. Oh no wait, you’ll never amount to anything if these are the opinions your artistically challenged brain comes up with.” 

“Hey–Yeonjun protests, a scene starting to form around you, but you quickly cut it short–the humiliation already too much for you to handle. 

“I’m sorry.” You tear up, quickly turning and running away. 

Through your tears, you can see the shocked and confused looks of the other patrons so you quickly keep your gaze to the ground until you’re out of the gallery and near Yeonjun’s car in the quiet parking lot where no one can see you cry. 

No one except Yeonjun who followed closely after you. “Wait up! Baby–Are you okay?” 

“I’m so sorry. I’m sorry I embarrassed you in front of everyone. I’m sorry I ruined your night.” You babble, tears streaming down your face. “You shouldn’t have taken me to such a nice place. I didn’t deserve it.”

Why the hell did you even think you would ever make it in such a business. The best you’d be able to achieve is etsy store designs and wedding photographs. You’ve just messed up your first chance at making connections AND you fucked up your date with Yeonjun. You’re such a screw up. 

“Woah, calm down. You didn’t do any of those things.” He holds you in his arms and you bury your face in his shirt, seeking comfort and a place to hide from him. “Don’t lie. I ruined everything.” 

Maybe now he’ll even realize that you’re not as cool as he thought you were. That you’re not actually this artistic person he probably imagined you as and lose interest. He’d know you’re a fraud and dump you. Then you’d be left with no Beomgyu and no boyfriend. Just your loser self. 

“You didn’t. But you crying might ruin my shirt.” 

You gasp, pulling away and trying to step back but he holds you by the arms, giving you a mischievous grin. “I’m kidding. You can soak me through with tears and snot all you want.” 

“You’re an asshole.” You smack his chest, pouting. 

“Maybe. But I got you to stop crying.” He says and you frown. He actually did. While you might’ve preferred a more sweet approach to getting you to stop crying, this still worked. 

You sigh, little cries bubbling up in your chest still. “I still am sorry. You wanted to do something nice for me and I ruined it with my big mouth.” 

“No, you didn’t.” He retorts, wiping away the few stray tears still falling. “I loved hearing everything you had to say. I thought you made some really good points. He was just threatened that you could've done a way better job than he did.”

“You really think so?” You peer up at him, hopeful that he’s not just saying that to make you feel better. 

“Yes, but don’t start crying again.” He laughs, kissing the pout you answer him with. “In fact, I’m free if you ever want to try it out. And I want you to know that I take very good direction.”

There goes the flirting again. The one that makes you wonder if he’s sincere or it’s just part of his charm.  

"Yeah, we could do that." You say nervously, letting him prop your chin up to press a proper kiss onto your lips. 

“Do you wanna get something to eat?” He asks but you shake your head. “Not hungry. Too depressed.” 

“Aw, baby, do you wanna head back home with me? I can make you forget all about that asshole.” He brushes your hair out of your face, kissing you again, and you know what he’s really asking. 

You’ve already gone on a few dates with him. It’s not too soon for this. This is what people who like each other do after going on multiple dates. And if you want to get over Beomgyu, you’re going to have to completely give yourself to Yeonjun. You can’t be holding anything back in the hopes that Beomyu might want it someday. 

You put on a brave smile for Yeonjun. “Yes. Let’s head home.” 

____________________________

“Hey, you don’t have to be nervous.” Yeonjun whispers to you, feeling you tense up as he tries to push the straps of your dress down your shoulders. “You’re beautiful."

Does he really think that? You can’t be that beautiful compared to the women he’s been with. 

"Did I tell you how much I love this dress?" He asks, toying with the neckline, and you shake your head. "I love it. Makes you look like a movie star. So beautiful and sexy. Almost makes me not want to take it off."

His lips brush softly over your skin, raising goosebumps in their wake before he pulls back to look you in the eye. "But I wanna see all of you. Will you let me see you, doll?"

You nod, holding your breath as he pulls the dress down your chest, kissing every inch of skin on the way until your breasts are bare and his plush lips are wrapped around your nipple. 

“Yeonjun…” You whine, grabbing onto his hair as he kisses and kneads your breasts, slowly but surely turning you on. 

“Does it feel good, doll?” Yeonjun smirks, one of his hands going between your legs to rub your pussy. 

“Yes. Please.” 

“I got you, baby.” His mouth moves down your body as he pulls your leg apart. 

“Missed this.” He murmurs, reaching your pussy and giving it a wide lick as his finger prods at your opening and pushes through. “Oh, that went in easy.” 

“I… I finger myself.” You admit bashfully, covering your face with your hands, feeling embarrassed for some reason but Yeonjun just laughs and leans up to remove your hands and kiss you. “That’s okay, makes my job easier.” 

You give him a confused look but quickly realize what he means when he presses another finger into you, moving both of them in and out to loosen your pussy. 

“See? All good. I’ll have you fucked open for me in no time.” He drawls, staring you down confidently as he works another finger into you. You tense up on that last one so he uses his thumb to rub your clit to get you to relax a bit. “There you go. Open up for me, doll. Let yourself feel good.” 

You’re trying to, you really are. You’re trying to focus on the moment, the burning feeling moving up your body from your pussy that just needs to be quenched. 

He’s doing it so well, hitting all the right spots, completely confident and self-assured. He knows exactly what he’s doing. No clumsiness. No unchecked lust. No uncontainable eagerness. Just steady, purposeful movements that touch you places you didn’t even know you were sensitive. 

“Feels good.” You slur, pressing your pussy further into his hand, grinding against his palm to seek more of that mind-numbing stimulation. “More.” 

“I know, baby. But let me take it slow for you.” 

You shake your head. You don’t want it slow. You want him to lose himself in you. “No. Want you now.” 

“Doll–”

“Fuck me, Yeonjun. Make me yours.” Please. Please make me yours. Make me stop thinking about him. 

Are you doing this for all the wrong reasons? Maybe, but how else are you supposed to get over Beomgyu? Don't they say the best way to get over a guy is to get under another one? Well, you'll just have to test that theory. 

Yeonjun relents, shushing your needy mewls with kisses as he takes his hand away. “Hush, doll. I’ll fill you up again in a second.” He undoes his pants and pushes them off along with his underwear before grabbing you by the thighs and lining himself up with your pussy. 

“You ready, baby?” He asks and you just stare at his cock. 

Has Beomgyu already fucked her? He must have. He’s so needy to get his dick wet that he’d never miss up the chance. 

You look up at Yeonjun. “Do it. Fuck me.” 

Ok, so maybe you fingering yourself hadn’t fully prepared you for this. Maybe you should’ve taken a page out of Beomgyu’s book and gotten yourself a sex toy–a dildo to practice with before the real thing. 

Thankfully, Yeonjun takes it slow despite your earlier demands, thrusting into you shallowly, letting you get used to his length bit by bit. 

“Relax for me, doll.” He purrs gently, kissing all over your face as his hands massage your thighs, doing his best to get you to loosen up. 

“Yes, Junnie.” You whimper, head falling back as you will your body to relax. You hear a soft chuckle coming from him. “Junnie? That’s cute.” 

You blush as you realize what you’d said. You couldn’t help it. You love giving cute nicknames to your friends. And you guess your boyfriend too. 

Yeah, because Yeonjun is your boyfriend now and boyfriends and girlfriends have sex. You know Yeonjun must have done it with all his previous girlfriends. It would’ve been weird if you didn’t. 

Not that Yeonjun pressured you to do it or anything. But you know he wanted it. You wanted it too. You just couldn’t get Beomgyu out of your head. Which is why it’s good that you’re finally doing this–smothering that last candle you were holding out for him. 

“You’re tensing again, doll.” Yeonjun tells you, kissing your neck. “Not that I don’t enjoy it. It feels like heaven when you squeeze down on my cock like that, but I want this to feel good for you too.” 

Yes, it’s the right thing to do this… right? 

“Okay…” You breathe, trying to relax and focus on the moment, letting your muscles unclench as Yeonjun presses his cock in and out of you. 

Once you’re sufficiently relaxed, you start to actually feel good again, his cock feeling much better than your fingers ever did. It reaches places inside you that you never could by yourself. It’s so thick and long, dragging along your walls and stimulating those sensitive spots inside you that make your toes curl. 

“Yeah, you like that, baby?” He drawls, taking note of the moans you were now letting out but he still takes it slow. 

You breath hitches, his words too closely resembling what Beomgyu had said to you before, and for a split second you see Beomgyu over you instead of Yeonjun, his long hair tickling your face and his intense gaze burning you up. 

“Yeonjun–” You gasp, digging your fingers into his arms. “Harder, please.” 

Maybe if he fucks you harder, it’ll push Beomgyu out of your brain. Maybe if he fucks you harder, you could mistake his casual affection for the raw passion you crave. 

“Are you sure, doll?” He asks, concerned. 

“Yes, please, Yeonjun. Fuck me hard.” You insist, hoping your eyes convey how much you need it. 

“Your wish is my command, baby.” He grabs your thighs, pressing them against the sides of your body and getting on top of you, driving his dick so deep inside you it makes you throw your head back in a long, choked out moan. 

But he doesn’t let up, fucking into you again and again, bullying his cock into your virgin pussy at a brutal pace until you have no more breath to scream, and then he fucks you more. 

“Baby, you with me?” Yeonjun pants, not letting up. 

“Isss good….” You mumble, brain short-circuiting, caught by the fire spreading from your pussy to set your body alight. “S-so good.” 

You vaguely hear him laugh through his own grunts, “Good girl, just lay back and let me make you feel good.” 

You nod, tears brimming at your eyelashes at the overwhelming feeling. But you love it, the burning pleasure making its way through your body and making you forget about anyone else but Yeonjun. 

“Junnie… soooo good…. Too g-good...” You cry, your pussy fluttering around his cock as it hammers in and out of you, your legs trying to slam together to take a break from the excessive pleasure, but they can’t. Not when Yeonjun’s hold on you is so bruising, his hips keeping at that brutal pace that makes you unable to even string along a full sentence.

“You asked for it, doll. Now be good and take it.” He grunts, bending down to pluck one of your nipples into his mouth, his teeth lightly grazing the sensitive nub. 

“No–no—Junnie!” You scream, unable to take it anymore, your pussy clamping down on his cock as your whole body shudders with a blinding orgasm. 

“Oh, fuck–baby, baby, I’m cumming.” Yeonjun groans, quickly taking his cock out as he cums on your belly, and replacing it with his fingers when you start crying at the emptiness. 

“I got you, doll. I got you.” He murmurs, pumping his fingers in and out of you as he milks his cock of the last drops of his orgasm–letting you both down gently. 

When you start squirming at the overstimulation–the fires retreating from your brain–he pulls his fingers out and bends down to kiss you. “It’s okay, baby. You did really well.” 

You look up at him, the insecurity creeping back in again now that the mind-numbing pleasure is gone. “Did you like it? Did you like m-me?” 

Were you good? Did you live up to his past lovers? Were you supposed to do something more? Be more proactive? Did he enjoy his time?

He chuckles. “Yes. You were great, baby. You felt so good.” He reassures you simply, pressing a kiss against your forehead. 

“Okay.” His answer doesn't really give you the reassurance you needed. You don’t even know what you need him to do or say, but you know he’s not giving it to you. And he notices. 

“You okay, doll?” He asks, giving you a skeptical look and you nod. “Yeah.” 

He doesn’t appear to be convinced by your answer. “Are you sure? Wanna take a shower?” 

You shake your head, getting off the bed and beginning to dress yourself up again. “No, that’s okay. I can take a shower at home.”

“Home? You’re not staying over?” He gives you a look of confusion which you reciprocate. “Oh. I don’t know. Do you want me to?” 

You blink at him, genuinely unsure. You didn’t want to presume anything. You don’t have experience doing this. You don't know if you’re supposed to stay or if it’s too soon. 

“Of course. I’m not just gonna make you go home after we fucked.” He chuckles, pulling you back down to the bed. “You have to stay the night.” 

“I don’t know…” You hesitate.  If you stay, Beomgyu will probably know what you've done. He'll know that you and Yeonjun had sex. But if you leave you'd be choosing Beomgyu again. You need to let go of him. 

“Okay.” 

___________________

You end up having a nice time with Yeonjun once you get over your anxiety and trepidation of losing your virginity to someone other than Beomgyu. It's silly but you suppose on some level you thought you'd have your first time with him. 

And it's not just that. For a second you let the insecurity get to you and you wondered if Yeonjun would act differently now that you had sex. That he'd show his true face and break your heart, but he doesn’t. He is as sweet as ever, giving you some of his clothes and staying up in bed with you, having those precious pillow talks that are so important early in a relationship. 

He is easy to talk to, and when he does that cute thing where he scrunches his nose up and pokes his tongue out as he's teasing you, it makes your heart flutter. 

You find out that singing isn’t his only passion--that dancing is his first love. He even gets up out of the cozy comfort of the bed to show you a few dance moves when you whine and insist he shows you. You watch him with a big smile on your face as he executes them so well even in his bedroom, his movements so fluid yet precise, it’s mesmerizing. And when he’s done he smiles that sweet smile of his and lunges back into bed with you and you take him into your arms as if he could actually belong there. 

It was so unlike how he usually is on stage and in front of others that it tugs in your heartstrings a bit, making you feel special for being allowed to witness this. 

You fall asleep in his arms and wake up in his arms, forgetting about that aching feeling of emptiness in the center of your chest for a few blissful hours. 

And in the morning you even make breakfast together. Or more like he makes you breakfast while you make coffee. 

“Oh, man. I haven’t had a proper breakfast in sooo long.” You moan, digging into the omelet and sausages he made you. 

“You don’t cook?” He asks, smiling as he watches you eat. 

“Nope. Me and Beomgyu are hopeless. We’ve almost burned the kitchen too many times that now we don’t even bother.” 

“Then what do you guys eat?” 

“Frozen goods and slimy take-out. We’re building a formidable gut microbiome. We’re actually part of the country’s biological weapons program.” 

Yeonjun laughs. “Well, sorry for ruining your trajectory by feeding you actual food.” 

“Ah, well, Beomgyu can carry the torch by himself.” You shrug, mouth full of food. 

“You guys are really close, huh?” He asks, and the mood grows a bit gloomy. You chew slowly, thinking your words through before answering. “Yeah, he’s my best friend.”

“He’s more than that though, isn’t he?” He pushes and you hesitate. 

Once again, you know exactly what he's asking, and you’re faced with a decision to make between an uncertain future with Yeonjun, nurturing a candlelight that is so shaky it might get snuffed out at any moment, or live on hopes and dreams with Beomgyu, praying for the sun to break out from behind the clouds after years of waiting for it to no avail. 

“No.” You finally say, looking up at him, trying to be decisive, hoping it will come naturally with time. “No, he’s not. Not anymore. We’ve agreed to be exclusive, you and I, and I’m serious about it.” 

Yeonjun's smile is slow, cautious. “Good to hear.”

Do either of you actually believe it? Do you really think you can move on from Beomgyu? You don’t know but you know that you have to try and you know that you'd like to try with Yeonjun. 

________________________________

Still, heading home you feel uneasy. Like you'd done something wrong you’re going to get punished for, and so to ease the guilt and tension, you grab something on the way with you–just some donuts and coffee, a small token of peace, knowing Beomgyu would be hungry and that the best way to get into his good graces is to offer him junk food. It's not like he was going to make himself breakfast or anything anyway. 

When you step into the apartment, you find him sitting on the couch just as you had expected. 

“Wanna eat? I got you your favorite donuts.” You wave the food next to your head in lieu of a greeting.

He stares at you for a few seconds, not saying anything. Shit, does he know? Can he see it on you? Probably, since you’re still wearing Yeonjun’s clothes. 

But he just says, “Sure.” and makes room for you on the couch. 

You accept it gladly, watching as he takes the donuts out and offers you some. “No, thanks, I already ate.” 

Once again, he pauses, studying you for a second before looking away and taking a bite of his donut.  

“Ugh, I was starving. This is the real stuff.” He groans and you grin. "Yeah. This is food as God intended it, processed and fried until it barely resembles food." You hum in agreement, making him giggle.

For a second you think you're off the hook. For a second you think things can just be normal like he wanted. But then he asks you something that stops you cold.  

"How was the date?"

You study his expression, trying to decipher a hidden agenda in the question. Is this a trick? Is he asking just so he can say something mean about it? Is he going to act vindictive once you tell him how it went?

But he looks genuinely curious to your scrutinizing eyes, and so you decide to just tell him the truth. "Ugh, awful. You know how completely unaware I am of my surroundings? Well, I started criticizing this one photo and the photographer was standing right behind me."

Beomgyu gasps, a piece of food flying out of his mouth at you. "No! What did he say?" 

You brush it off in disgust. "He said I was a nobody." 

Beomgyu's face twists up in anger as he puts the food down. "What the fuck? He said that?"

"Well, I said it and he just confirmed it." You explain sheepishly, still feeling the sting of the humiliation even now. "He said he has all these awards and I have nothing and never will and he won't listen to someone like me." 

"He's a fucking idiot.” Beomgyu rages, immediately jumps to your defense, “What, he thinks just because he has awards that he's the only one who can have an opinion? You know most of these awards are just rich people smelling their own farts, right? Real talent like yours cannot be measured."

Beomgyu is as fiercely defensive of you as he has always been and it brings a small smile to your face. However, the wound that the encounter opened up is still raw and just that isn’t enough to make you feel better. 

"Well, I wish it would be measured a little bit. You know we've both been doing this for years but while your band is getting bigger and bigger–and I'm so happy for you–I seem to be getting nowhere." You tell him glumly. You haven’t gotten any recognition for your work even though you work your ass off, dreaming up concepts, executing them to the best of your ability, and trying to get someone to notice. 

"Hey, hey, you will. I am certain of it. No one this talented can go unseen for long. They will notice you one day and they will be blown away." He scoots closer to you, holding your face in his warm hands and caressing your cheeks lovingly. "And hey, if all else fails, you always have that backup plan of being our main stylist and photographer. Me and Yeonjun will make sure of it. And not as a sympathy job either but because we truly believe in you."

"You would work with Yeonjun again for me?" You ask, touched. Beomgyu has been very stand-offish with Yeonjun ever since you started dating him. He only interacts with him the bare minimum to still allow the band to function. It’s not ideal but at least they’re not fighting anymore. 

"I would do anything for you." He smiles at you, the smile not quite reaching his sad eyes. 

Has his eyes always looked like this? So melancholic? Still, you feel comfort looking into them. You feel love and familiarity. You feel home. 

You do your best not to tear up, knowing if you let that dam crumble you'll end up saying things you'll regret. So you hold it together, despite how much you ache to throw yourself in his arms. You missed this. You missed him. You miss what you wish you could be. 

But then he takes his hand away and asks quietly, “Did you spend the night with him?”

“Yes.” You admit in a small voice, heart hammering against your chest.

“Got it.” He says simply, and it’s somehow worse than him getting angry. There is a sense of loss there that you can’t explain but it aches, deep and inaccessible. 

“Thanks for the food.” He says, getting up and throwing the rest of it in the trash. 

"Wait. Where are you going?” You ask when you see him heading for the door. 

“Out.” He says simply, seeming to be in a hurry to leave but you’re not ready to let him go yet. “Can't you stay for a bit?" 

"I'm sorry. I've got something to get to. But I'll catch up with you later, okay?" He doesn’t even wait for you to answer before he’s out of the door. 

“Okay.” You mumble quietly to yourself, letting the tears fall freely, having no reason to hide them anymore. 

_____________________________

A/N: AHHHH two more chapter left. the end is nigh and only one boy can win. as always feedback gives me the motivation to write and upload faster. also just to let you know i will be giving patreon a try and an alternative ending to this fic will be published with the losing boy there.

Back to our regularly scheduled programming. which boy do you want oc to end up with (voting has no bearing on the final results though i guess now it doesn't matter because we'll have an alternative ending anyway)

Taglist: @blxxsss @sanasour @tinkw1nks @lol6sposts @zuzuhasablog @beomsl @seolis-world @stantxtorurmissingout @wonwooz1@yaorzu-blog@allylikesdabee@rkivezzs@malieno @leviathanlee26 @yomomas-stuff @kurisaiyunobara @girlwholovekpop @zuzuhasablog @viaaasdiary @ho3forkpop @skzvcr @th3-3d3n-g4rd3n @izzyexe @boomfrogg @kpop-cakepops-recs @chronicallygyu @girlwholovekpop

[enluv]

the couples quiz <3

PAIRING! bang chan x fem!idol reader

SYNOPSIS! - back with enluv productions, we have our favorite idol couple to take the enluv couples quiz! - this consist of a multitude of questions asked by each of them to test how well they know their partner! enjoy <3

word count: 3,310 (and it’s all fluff 😁)

genre(s): interview styled writing + video layout chic (?) & so much fluff like it’s so cavity inducing you may need to call a dentist 🤭

warnings: tooth rotting fluff, both idols, profanity, nervousness, and I am pretty sure that’s all! (if I missed something lmk!)

coco’s love note: idea is based off the gq couples quiz videos !! please note that our reader is in an oc group I’ve made :)

[ video preview begins now – our idol couple are shown sitting comfortably in two opposing director chairs ]

Y/N: What’s our contact names on each others phones?

Chan: Oh that’s easy I have her as (he makes quotation marks with his fingers) “Y/N L/N” and in parentheses (he cups his hands to express them) “gf”

[the room falls silent as y/n stares shocked at chan]

Y/N: There’s no way…you’re so lying right? (her eyes are widened with shock)

Chan: Of course I am baby! Why would I ever just have you as your name? I have you as “future ms.bahng” (he smiles proudly displaying his contact name for y/n and her contact photo)

Y/N: I almost threw these cards at you for real Christopher! Don’t ever do that again!

Chan: What’s my contact name?

Y/N: Bang Chan dash Stray Kids. (she stares deadpanned at the camera before giggling at his expression)

Y/N: Now you know how it feels! I have you as “my love” it’s a bit simple but I just really love you.

[ end of preview - the screen cuts back to the couple as they first start the video and it begins ]

Y/N: I’m Cupid’s Y/N!

Chan: and I’m Stray Kids Bang Chan!

Y/N & Chan: and we’re taking the enluv couples quiz!

[the couples quiz logo pops up over them to signify the start of the interview – y/n’s questions are first]

Y/N: What’s an item of yours I always seem to steal?

Chan: Oh that’s obvious, she always steals my hoodies. All the colorful ones go to her!

Y/N: Correct! His fans always tell him to wear color but I think I’ve stolen everything with a decent amount of color on it…oops? Sorry stays!

Y/N: What’s something I always bring with me on tour?

Chan: Hmm well there are a few ways to go about this. You could be asking like sentimental items or like necessities.

Y/N: I wrote a list so if the items you guess are on it I’ll give you a point.

Chan: Oh god. (he shakes his head and looks up to show he’s thinking) I would say probably your first aid kit bag. She’s pretty clumsy and needs to have a band-aid on her at all times.

Chan: Oh also probably our son. Oh! I know the most important one is definitely your headphones. You don’t ever leave the house without them.

Y/N: Channie I think you need to elaborate on what our son means (she laughs pointing towards the production team) because they seem worried.

Chan: Oh right. Y/N and I have matching plushies that we won each other on our…hmm I think it was our fifth date? I took her to an arcade and they had claw machines. She got me a psyduck plushie it’s really big and I got her a bunny plush. We call them our sons and usually I’ll take the bunny and she takes psyduck. We care for them equally though! We aren’t absent parents!

Y/N: Okay you were right about all of those, you’re missing one thing though. This one is the most important one.

Chan: Babe…I thought I hit them all seriously…gimme a hint pleaseee….

Y/N: It’s something you gave me.

Chan: I’ve given you a lot of things Y/N.

Y/N: Can I just tell you?

Chan: No! I wanna guess.

[a compilation of chan guessing is played in x2 speed, y/n continues to answer no as he guesses]

Chan: I give up! Tell me.

Y/N: It’s my bracelet! (she laughs softly at his expression)

Chan: Oh god, I can’t believe I forgot about our bracelets!! (he holds up his right hand so the camera can see) We have bond bracelets!

Y/N: When you touch them it sends the other person a small vibration and it means that we’re thinking of or miss the other. They’re really nice since we work a lot and don’t see each other as often as we’d hope.

Chan: I touch mine a lot.

Y/N: Mhm he does, but so do I so I’d never complain.

Y/N: Have I ever written a song about you? And if the answer is yes, which one is my favorite.

Chan: Yeah, plenty of them.

Y/N: Woah okay no need to expose me sir.

Chan: Babe I’m not exposing anything, it’s kinda obvious…

Y/N: Just answer the question Chris.

Chan: “two souls” is your favorite and I know that because you worked on it for almost three months then gave it to me on my birthday.

Y/N: He’s right. That song is my baby, it’s so personal but I just really love it so much. He kept trying to sneak into my laptop to listen to it but I caught him every single time! He cried when he first heard it though so it was worth hiding.

Chan: I thought we promised not to talk about that sweetie.

Y/N: Next question!

Y/N: What was my first concert?

Chan: Oh man. I don’t think I know this one babe.

Y/N: Channie I promise I’ve told you the answer to all of these questions.

Chan: Okay can you tell me how old you were?

Y/N: No.

Chan: Please prettty? I think I’ll get it if I know how old you were!

Y/N: I was sixteen almost seventeen. (y/n sends the camera a wink)

Chan: OH! I’ve so got it then. I know it!

Y/N: Okay who was it then?

Chan: It was Seventeen sunbaenim!

Y/N: Ding ding ding! Correct!

Chan: I always forget how big of a carat you are seriously. She loves them. The kids are friends with them so it’s wild to see her interact with them.

Y/N: I’m good friends with them now, perks of being an idol, they always tease me too.

Chan: Who did you bias?

Y/N: Some secrets should never see the light Channie.

Y/N: NEXT!

Y/N: What’s my favorite food?

Chan: It’s Chipotle but you get the most mundane thing ever so you always throw in a side of chips and queso because you’re scared the workers roll their eyes when they see your order.

Y/N: That…what oddly specific…why did you expose me like that omg…embarrassing!

Chan: Babe you recite exactly what I just said every time you order Chipotle, literally word for word I know it by heart now.

Y/N: Feels like he’s attacking me a bit right guys (y/n turns to the cameras as if asking the audience)

Chan: I am not! You have said that to me a million times! It’s seriously engraved in my head.

Y/N: NEXT!

Y/N: What’s my favorite song that you’ve written that’s about me?

Chan: I know the answer but if I say it then fans are going to have a field day on twitter.

Y/N: How would you know? Been on twitter recently Chris?

Chan: (he stares at the camera and winks) I don’t have twitter, you know, idol things and all those logistics.

Y/N: Should we answer the question together?

Chan: Stop cheesing so hard, you did this on purpose didn’t you.

Y/N: Yes I did. Ready? 3…2…1!!!

Chan & Y/N: Red Lights

Y/N: What can I say! It’s a good song.

Chan: Is it my turn yet? I need to seek revenge.

Y/N: NOPE! Still me!

Y/N: How many pets do I have and can you tell me in which order I got them?

Chan: This is terrible because she had pets even before getting with me.

Chan: Okay here it goes. You have three pets, first one is Pickles, he’s a greyhound. Next would be Peanut, he’s a fish and he has a brother named Jelly. They count as one because they’re a pair, and finally we have Kimchi and that’s our gecko, I named him. (he smiles proudly at the camera)

Y/N: Four points! Wow babe good job!

Chan: What kind of dad would I be if I didn’t know our kids names?

Y/N: So true like imagine you forgot one I’d be so mad.

Chan: I know that’s why I got them all right.

Y/N: What’s my dream wedding look like?

Chan: I also know this answer, we talk about it a lot.

Chan: You want a small wedding with the most important people in your life, so like family and friends but also people who have helped you in your career as well. You want a summer wedding and want a pastel creamy green color to be the theme. It’ll be inside but you really liked the forest vibe from Twilight so the inside will be decorated to look like the woods.

Y/N: Okay woah. Do you have access to my Pinterest or something?

Chan: You say that like we don’t talk about getting married all the time. (he smacks his lips playfully at her)

Y/N: I am in love with you, seriously like on god dude.

Chan: Stop saying on god after you tell me you love me, we talked about this!

Y/N: He doesn’t like it because he says it sounds like I’m talking to a brother.

Chan: You sound like my nineteen year old sister!

Y/N: and I love her very much! We went shopping last time we went to visit them.

Chan: and you bought her $800 shoes.

Y/N: What can I say, I love all the bahngs!

Y/N: Last question Chris, let’s see if you get this one right! What was my first impression of you!

Chan: Oh you’re going there? I see how it is. (he fixes himself to sit straight up and looks at the camera) Our fans don’t know this story but Y/N hated me.

Y/N: (laughing to herself and gesturing to the crew again) They look so confused! He made it sound so bad, I just thought he was one of those really weird guys because, so basically we met at an award show and his group, Stray Kids, had been seated next to us.

Chan: We were so close we could touch arms.

Y/N: No truly! And it was funny because his entire group, and if you don’t know, they have eight members in total, all got up and went to the bathroom together. All eight of them! It was hilarious, I’d never seen any group do that!

Chan: We like to stay together. Safety in numbers!

Y/N: They came back after a while and almost missed getting their award. It was just so odd to me at the time but after that we started talking as the show went on and I thought he was super sweet and obviously he cares for his members.

[the couples quiz logo pops onto screen as the video depicts chan at the center, he flashes an excited smile at the camera]

Chan: Is it finally my turn? I’ll be honest I don’t have that many questions…but they’re pretty hard to answer. I don’t know if Y/N will be able to get them right.

Y/N: Don’t antagonize me Christopher! I know everything about you.

Chan: We’ll see about that.

Chan: First question! Before we went on our first date I had originally planned something else but it fell through, what was it and why didn’t we do it?

Y/N: Woah you’re going BACK.

Chan: Mhm, answer the question baby.

Y/N: This is a funny story that not everyone knows actually. Chan loves doing crazy things like he doesn’t do traditional dates ever, it’s always something outrageous that you least expect.

Chan: I want things to be memorable, plus if I have free time I don’t want to spend it sitting around, I want to go out and do things.

Y/N: He originally wanted to take me bungee jumping, (the camera pans to a laughing chan and the staff can be heard gasping) can you believe that! Bungee jumping for a first date!

Chan: It would have been memorable though, right?

Y/N: Yeah definitely. It didn’t happen though because he heard from a mutual friend of ours, Minnie, that I was really scared of heights.

Chan: I canceled the day super quick, the date was in two days and I called and had to cancel but I was honestly grateful I found out because imagine if I hadn’t known and took her to it? Memorable first date but not in a good way!

Y/N: I think maybe now I’d do it, but only if he’s with me because I trust him the most.

Chan: Wait really? Wait we’ll talk about this later, finish the story!

Y/N: Right! He took me swimming instead, it was a indoor private pool place and it was so much fun. He actually taught me how to swim.

Chan: It’s one of my favorite memories because I just knew I’d be asking her to be my girlfriend.

Y/N: Stop I’m going to cry if we get into this again!

Chan: I told her this last time we talked, how I knew she was the one for me our first date. She cried and then called her mom to tell her.

Y/N: My parents love him, maybe more than me to be honest.

Chan: What was the first achievement we got as a group that made me feel like I had made it?

Y/N: This feels like a trick question.

Chan: I promise it’s not.

Y/N: There are two answers because your first win is so memorable that I’d pick that one but you also always say you haven’t made it, because you’re still going, still reaching and setting goals and achievements for yourself.

Chan: You worded that perfectly. She’s right. First win on a music show was huge for us but honestly as a group we have a lot of goals and want to achieve them all, I don’t know if we’re ever going to truly feel like we’ve made it but seeing our fans celebrate our achievements always makes it feel like we’re heading in the right direction.

[the camera shifts and pans to y/n running her thumb on the back of chan’s palm, she whispers something in his ear before they continue]

Chan: What was my favorite sport growing up?

Y/N: Easy! It was swimming and you were really good at it.

Chan: Don’t say that they’re going to believe you.

Y/N: Babe I’ve seen those awards your mom has lining the walls of your house, trust me, you were good.

Chan: My dad owns a swim school so I swam a lot as a kid and naturally went on to compete at meets and stuff. If I wasn’t here doing this, I’d be a swimmer.

Y/N: He’s really good at it, and he taught me how to swim so like he’s a good teacher too.

Chan: I can’t believe I taught you to swim that memory is so engraved in my mind.

Y/N: Mine too! I could not learn for the life of me and then suddenly on my first date with him he taught me. That should tell you how good he is at swimming.

Chan: I don’t know if I’m good now but back then I wasn’t terrible.

Y/N: My boyfriend is so humble!

Chan: What’s one thing that you hate that I do but I love it?

Y/N: Sleeping in the recording room?

Chan: (he lets out a sarcastic laugh) Ha Ha Ha. Close but no.

Y/N: I don’t know, I don’t hate anything you do honestly.

Chan: Want me to tell you?

Y/N: You so want to tell me.

Chan: I do.

Y/N: Tell me.

Chan: It’s when I spend too long in the studio, so long that you have to come get me.

Y/N: You’re so….(she’s cut off by chan’s laughter)

Chan: Let me explain before you blast me in front of everyone!

Y/N: Mmm…go on…

Chan: I know you hate coming to get me but some of my favorite times are when you come because then we spend hours together listening to things I’ve made or messing around and recording things. It’s nice to have you so interested in what I do because I love you and I love music, it’s like my two favorite things are interacting and meeting one another.

Y/N: I hate you so much! You know I’m a sap, I’m going to cry you meanie, that’s so cute what even is this!

Chan: My revenge worked!

[the video cuts to the next clip and the viewer can see that y/n now has a tissue in hand]

Chan: Next question, who gave me advice when we first started getting to know each other and dating?

Y/N: Was it not one of the boys? You said you told binnie first no? So I’d assume him.

Chan: Nope! Guess again.

Y/N: No? Hmm I don’t know…maybe one of your other idol friends?

Chan: It was actually our choreographer.

Y/N: What? Really? Why?

Chan: They saw how stressed I was because I wanted to ask you to be my girlfriend officially and it was making me distracted so they sat me down and made me spill what was bothering me. Funny too because when I told them they told me to just go for it, and I did and then later on they told me they were glad I had because I looked so much happier.

Y/N: Wow this tissue is being used to its fullest today. I am making a mental note to buy them anything they want right now like wow, imagine if they had never told you to just do it. Where would we be?

Chan: Still sneaking around to hang out as “friends” probably.

Chan: Final question, what’s the title of our new collab song coming out?

Y/N: Oh you’re terrible, did you even get permission to reveal this?

Chan: No but I feel like it’ll, a) this will be out by the time we announce it or b) I don’t have a plan B since I’m hoping plan A is successful!

Y/N: Stay please pray for your leader, he’s so going to get us in trouble for this!

Chan: Don’t say that pretty, have some faith in me.

Y/N: Our collab song is called “Here for you,” and it was written and produced by us.

Chan: It’s a love song if you didn’t guess that.

Y/N: I think they got that one babe.

Chan: Making sure they know it!

Interviewer: Can you tell us a little about the song?

Y/N: Well like Chan said, it’s a love song. It’s about finding the right person and immediately knowing they’re the one.

Chan: Immediately knowing they’re your person.

Y/N: We wrote it one night in the studio after fighting, nothing huge but we both had a bad day and it was intense, when you’ve been with someone for a while you have those days you know? He wrote something down to blow off some steam and so did I. We realized that we’d wrote one half of a song each. Then we put it together, fixed it up and made it that night.

Chan: It’s a really special song to us both, that’s why I’m so excited to announce it.

Y/N: We’re really excited to have you all listen to it.

Interviewer: Well thank you both for coming. We appreciate you making some time for us! 

Y/N & Chan: Thanks for having us! (they send a smile to the camera and bow in thanks to the crew)

Y/N: We had a lot of fun today, really thank you.

Chan: Maybe we will come back in like ten years, married, and all that and do it again!

[ the camera zooms out and in fades the couples quiz logo, you can see the couple as they whisper to one another after the director yells “cut” ]

ENLUV EXTRA:

Chan: Why do I love Y/N? That’s a big question to ask, and if I named all the reasons we’d be here for a long time, to put it simply she’s my soulmate, I don’t think there is anyone else in the world more right for me than her. She’s caring, fun, creative, so many more things and it’s like wow, people do exist like her out there and I was lucky enough to find her? She must be my soulmate.

Y/N: Why do I love Chris? Hmm let me think. As a society I know we don’t believe in soulmates, and for a long time I put no thought into them you know? But meeting Chan and being able to experience the love he gives, has honestly changed that for me. I don’t think there is anyone out there more perfect for me than him. I can’t put into words why I love him but I can try to describe it. It’s like when you find a new favorite thing to obsess over, and that becomes something you love so dearly but in the case of me and Chan, it’s that feeling on and on, it never falters and my love for it stays consistent.

[ the video ends with a black screen fading out the image of y/n from frame ]

coco’s <3 note: FINALLY SHE IS HERE! I’ve been talking about this fic for almost three months now 😭 and finally it’s done! Hope you all enjoy it as much as I do :) Thank you @odxrilove for being my beta reader for it! I love you wifey 😻🫶🏽 As always, feedback & rbs are always appreciated!

SKZ TAGLIST! - @cherry-bushes @en-fvr @nikis-mum @bloom-bloom-pow @kyublr @enhacolor @fxckingshame @stealanity @haoreo @jxp1t-3r @chaerybae @vatterie @tytrackfebreze @veryjeongintxtkid @haechan-nahceah @mnwrld @queen-klarissa

— Want to be tagged? Check out THIS post!

[thatchickwiththecamera]

WDYWFM? - Pt. 1 (UPDATED!)

Synopsis: The European leg of the Concrete Forever tour marks one year since Tyler Garrett joined the Bad Omens media team. A lot can change over the course of a year. New experiences, new friendships, and new discoveries emerge.

Pairing: Noah Sebastian x OC

NOTE: Part Two is coming soon! Had to update and edit part one!

Cross-posted on AO3 (thatchickwiththecamera)

MASTERLIST

Based on an idea I got from seeing this video.

Tag List: @sundamariis, @fastjelly-fish, @lilylovesdew, @narcissisticbehavior81

Tonight was night five of the European leg of the 2024 Concrete Forever tour and the end of January had marked one year since I had first joined the Bad Omens media crew. With the band's increase in popularity Bryan, the band's photographer and media director, decided it was time to expand the team going into Shiprocked so he could focus more carefully on planning and curating the media content produced and published for the band. 

So Bryan reached out to a friend in the music industry and asked if they knew of any photographers/videographers with a solid portfolio who were looking for a more permanent media production gig. That friend connected him to me and as they say, the rest is history. 

“Tyler! Did you finish up the edits for tonight's social post?” Bryan’s voice carried from the front of the crew bus to the back lounge where I sat backing up files to my external harddrive. 

“Yeah! They’re already in the dropbox!” I responded before ejecting my drive from my macbook and throwing them both back onto my bunk. 

I clipped my crew credentials with “CONCRETE FOREVER TOUR” and “TYLER GARRETT - MEDIA CREW” printed across the top and bottom through the belt loop of my jeans and slipped on my crew sweatshirt before walking toward the front of the bus. Bryan and Alana were standing over the main table and counter area double checking the batteries and the assortment of cameras we would be mounting in various parts of the stage for tonight's show along with our individual gear that would be on our person and laid out backstage for us to use throughout the show. 

The air once we stepped into the venue was buzzing with energy. I don’t know what it was about this leg of the tour, but it was like a switch was flipped. Ever since the first date in January opening for Bring Me The Horizon back in Cardiff there was this high that enveloped the entire group and it looked like no one would be coming down anytime soon. 

This energy was especially present in the band's lead singer, Noah. The usually stoic and serious persona he portrayed on stage was now replaced with one that roamed around the various levels of the stage doing jumping jacks, pushups, dances, and little vocal trills. 

After the first two shows, his antics even caused Poppy, our opener for this part of the tour, to completely abandon portraying her A.I. character like was originally planned for their performances of V.A.N.  Instead, she joined in Noah’s antics and even introduced the world to this little handshake that they had originally created during rehearsals leading up to the tour. 

Life in between gigs had been lively as well since the start of the new year. After each show when everything was packed up and the load outs were completed, the band and crew for both Bad Omens and BMTH would venture to one of the local pubs and celebrate with a few beers and carbonated beverages before loading up on the buses and venturing off to the next city. 

Until joining the Bad Omens crew, I would usually keep to myself in between shows while touring - choosing to prioritize edits, catalog files, and update my individual socials when not trying to finish a book on my Kindle or finish a show on a random streaming service. 

The first few months of touring after Shiprocked changed all of that and a few of the crew and band made it their mission to pull me out of the confines of my comfort zone and my regular routine. Over the course of the past year, Bryan has pushed me to learn and develop my photo and video skills far past where I ever thought they would go. Matt started teaching me front of the house controls, he now hounds me with daily racoon memes, and I in turn buy him random Dr. Pepper merch. Steven taught me all about the finer side of wristwatches, NBA basketball, and the intricacies of running merch. Alana quickly became one of my best friends and has balanced her assistant tour manager duties well alongside keeping me sane as the only other female member of the media team and crew. 

Folio decided that I absolutely had to learn how to fish when one of our venues had a lake nearby, even making me kiss the smallmouth bass that I caught before he threw it back in citing that it was tradition with your first fish. He also dared me to smoke my first joint, which caused me to hack up a lung because I somehow inhaled wrong. Nicholas helped me design a few tattoo ideas before inking my forearm and starting what will eventually become a full sleeve up my right arm. Jolly taught me a bunch of guitar riffs and how to cuss in Swedish (which I do entirely too often now), and Noah surprised me with the hidden talent of being a pool shark and we ended up becoming quick friends to the point where he is now my partner in crime hustling people out of their money when the crew goes out to bars. I also learned that while he hates it when people try to scare and prank him, he loves to scare and prank others. 

Which is why, as expected, throughout three out of the first four shows of the European leg, Noah made it his mission to try and scare me at least once per show mainly during the song transitions when I would try to quickly get from one side of the stage to the next during the blackouts. In Berlin, it was during the transition after “Nowhere to Go” when I was coming down from the second level of the stage after retrieving the camera that was filming Folio play. Luckily I had handed the camera and its tripod down to Alana behind the platform before descending the steps in time for Noah to jump out at the bottom already wearing his ski mask for V.A.N. 

I jumped, skipping a step on the way down, and felt a set of arms grab me and hold me back up before I could fall too far forward. I remember yelling ‘fucking hell’ in swedish and looking up to see Noah with a shit eating grin peaking through the mask and hearing Jolly laugh at my use of the words. I grabbed his mask and yanked on it so it was crooked on his face before I ran behind the platform to the other side of the stage where I had left my camera gear. I heard him let out a laugh and a few cuss words of his own as he struggled to fix the mask and climb the steps up to his spot on the platform before Poppy started singing. 

Night one in Cologne, I was mainly in the photo pit for the majority of the show, while Bryan and Alana were the ones roaming the stage. I kept a gear bag tucked behind one of the few big boxes we had on either side of the stage. In it, I had my spare batteries, my water bottle, and the 360 camera on an extension pole. The plan for this show was to focus on crowd shots and footage along with regular low-angle stage shots. While I got amazing shots of the guys performing and some hilarious shots of a fan crowd surfing in an inflatable shark suit. Noah lost any possible opportunity offered for pranking during the show. 

On night two in Cologne, he made up for the missed opportunity. During the transition between “Artifical Suicide” and “Like A Villan,” I quickly ran to the media team roadcase set up behind the guitar stage case and tech area to get a quick drink of water and change out a lens. As I was kneeling down in front of the case and had just finished switching the lenses, I felt a pair of hands grab my shoulders. Luckily all the equipment was out of my hands because the sudden motion made me jump and fall back on my heels, causing me to bump into something, well someone, behind me. I let out a string of curse words, this time in English, and tilted my head back to see Noah, now without his mask, trying to hold back a laugh as he smiled down at me. I let out an annoyed sign and rolled my eyes. He gave my shoulder a squeeze before disappearing back out onto the stage right as the song began. 

In Munich, he chose the “Miracle” break as his time to strike. Only this time he stepped up his game. While I was switching out gear and changing my settings from photo to video, I set everything on a storage case under the second level platform and stood up to stretch a bit since this break was the more lengthy of the two. After I finished trying rid my shoulders of the tension that had built up from holding a camera in front of my face for a hour, I felt an arm wrap across the front of my collarbones and pulled me back into them while the person's other hand took one of the band's athletic water bottles and sprayed it down the rear collar of my crew hoodie. I squirmed and let out a loud gasp as the shock of the icey cold water briefly hit the back of my neck before I managed to wriggle away. I turned and as expected was greeted by a sweaty Noah smiling down at me trying to hold back laughter. 

“You little shit!” I shouted before quickly grabbing the water bottle from his hand and pointed it at him spraying him with the same icy cold water. 

He started swatting at the spray, laughing as his long thin fingers did nothing to block the liquid. He reached out and grabbed my wrist and I quickly tried to switch the bottle to my other hand but he was too quick, capturing that wrist as well before I could aim the bottle at his face again. I laughed and tried to pull away but he pulled me toward him and pinned my wrists against his chest trying to render the “weapon” he introduced inoperable. 

The laughter between us suddenly died off. The height difference between my 5’1” and his 6’3'' became very clear and his chin practically touched his chest as he gazed down at me. We stood there for what felt like an eternity, brown eyes connected with blue. He loosened his grip on my wrists slightly but neither of us made any attempt to move.  

The arena suddenly felt very warm and I don’t think I could blame it on the array pyrotechnics used during the show. I don’t know what to call this sudden shift in the air between us, but all I know is it caused something to flutter in my stomach and that scared the hell out of me. So I did the first thing I could think of, I diffused an intense moment with humor. I squeezed the water bottle that was still in my hand and the last remnants of water from the bottle hit Noah’s chin and neck. The shock of the cold liquid caused him to step back and release my wrists. I immediately missed the contact, but I needed to get away from this situation. 

“Shit that really is cold!” He laughed, turning to grab one of the black towels we had on hand backstage and started to dry off the water. 

When he turned to offer me the towel I had already retrieved my camera and fled to the other side of the stage wondering what the fuck had just happened. 

During the day off between Munich and Zurich, I kept myself busy editing, organizing, and uploading photo content to the media team drive and to my own socials. I had gained a considerable amount of followers since joining the Bad Omens team and while I enjoyed seeing the reaction and appreciation the guys' fans had when I posted new content, I was also starting to see some of the reasons why the guys like to take social media breaks as often as they do. 

Editing was one of my favorite parts of being a photographer and with us starting this European leg off with four back-to-back shows, I hadn’t had time to pause and really work my magic. So that is what I designated as my mission for this day off. I also may have used it as an excuse to avoid leaving the crew bus and chance any more contact with Noah. I was still trying to figure out if that flutter in my stomach was real or if it was just part of the adrenaline from a high energy concert and my body being attacked with ice cold water. 

Tonight, we were in Zurich and I was running around the stage at various times throughout the set while Bryan was down in the photo pit trying out some new ideas he had photos wise and finally having his turn with the 360 camera during a show.

During “What do you want from me?” I was standing in the wings to stage left filming Noah when he suddenly walked over to me in the middle of the second verse, grabbed my left wrist from where it held the side of my camera and pulled me out onto the stage. I keep filming as he releases my wrist and quickly slips his hand in mine while he continues to walk backward onto the stage. Once we were in the middle of the stage he started to spin in a circle with our connected hands extended in the middle. We spun around a few times before he started to jump while we were spinning causing his hair to bounce up and down on his head which I shakily captured on camera. The randomness of it all led to fits of laughter and caused Noah to mess up the last two lines of the verse. 

As the verse came to an end I expected him to let go and yell, “JUMP JUMP” like he usually does during the brief blackout. Instead, as the light goes out, I am yanked forward and feel a hand and the cool metal of a microphone against the side of my face, and a set of lips briefly collide with mine. I barely had time to process what happened before it ended, the lips were gone, the lights came back up, and Noah jumped onto the riser at the front of the stage to sing the rest of the song. I still held my camera up and panned to follow him trying to hide any reaction my face might show behind a veil of concentration. 

For the remainder of the show, I tried to avoid making any and all eye contact with Noah, who in turn tried his damndest to get me to look at him and gauge my reaction to what he did. He did it in a way that wasn’t too noticeable to the crowd by acting like he's playing up to the camera. My brain tried to process what had happened and what the hell it possibly meant over the course of the remaining ten songs in the set. 

Noah kissed me. 

On stage. 

In the middle of a show. 

Did one of the guys see? 

Oh Shit! Did anyone in the audience see?

The usual jump scare from the previous shows never came and my self-sabotaging brain was trying to solve the question of what everything meant. Kissing me to see my reaction instead of scaring me like usual? Was this real or was it just another prank?

__

Author's Note: I have never really written fanfiction before, especially for a band. So feedback is welcome! Part Two is coming soon!

Let me know in the comments if you’d like to be tagged.

[fieldofdaisiies]

paring: Tamlin x OC | type: angst | words: 2,7k | warnings: violence, abuse, domestic abuse| masterlist

As the years pass and time goes by, the yearning, the longing to see each other, does not fade. Not on either side. There is always a kernel of hope, deeply rooted within their chests, that makes them hold onto the idea of seeing each other again. 

Not once has Tamlin let go of that sliver of hope, until one day the Mother truly hears his prayers – a ball will be held in the Spring Court, and amongst the other High Lords and their families who Tamlin could care less about, much to his surprise, the High Lord of Night is also invited along with his wife and both children.

Soft morning sunlight shines through the thick velvet drapes that cover most of the floor-to-ceiling windows. Tamlin lets a few strays fall upon his face, warming his skin and looks at the crystal chandeliers hanging above him, breaking the light within their crystals. He hums contentedly as he continues to stroll, his polished boots carrying him over the glossy marble floor, towards the small orchestra, the members of it already building up their instruments. 

“Morning,” he greets the director, bowing his head, a small smile on his lips. He gets no response – out of modesty of the male, or hate toward his father, he doesn’t know. 

So he keeps walking, silently admiring all the instruments, also spotting the few fiddles here and there. He really wants to pick it up again, playing the fiddle. Only for himself of course. His father hates it when he plays, his brothers always laughed at him in the past and his mother…she liked it. But only in secret of course. 

The whole throne room is a bustling space of people – sentries rushing around, decorating, building things. The chaos around him mirrors the emotional state Tamlin finds within himself. 

He is all nerves and tension - he will see Reverie again and over the past days he was already mulling over all the possibilities how their first meeting after two years will go. How will she react to seeing him again? Will she be happy? Or indifferent? Or as excited as he is?

He can’t let his emotions show, so he veils his face in cool nonchalance while strolling through the throne room, hands in the pockets of his breeches, long blond hair tied back into a low ponytail. 

Tamlin, although having grown up and grown into a more confident and self-assured young male, still often feels out of place during such court meetings. This isn’t for him. He won’t be the future High Lord of the Spring Court, he will never have an important role in the court, his place will be in the Spring Court war bands and it is good the way it is.

The only thing that is making him look forward to the ball is seeing Rhysand again – he hasn’t seen him in a while and is truly looking forward to chatting with him again and having a good laugh with his old friend. Still, it is impossible to deny that what he truly yearns for is to see the Night Court princess again… 

────── ⋆⋅ꕤ⋅⋆ ──────

Tamlin isn’t the only one sitting on needles. Reverie feels equally excited about finally meeting again. She steps from one foot to the other, nibbling on her lower lip while in her mind she already plans how she will greet him – maybe a small curtsey, the bow of her head. She might shake his hand and smile politely. Maybe he will ask her to dance? Or they will have a drink together. Or he will show her the Spring Court? And maybe–

“Hold still for a moment, my dear child!” Reverie sucks in a sharp breath, straightening her posture and stopping her nervous feet from moving. 

The last touches are being added to her dress and she can’t wait to see the final product, already highly anticipating it. It has to be perfect. 

Her mother makes the dress for her – it is perfect and exactly how Reverie imagined it. “It is beautiful,” the young Night Court princess whispers when she lets her fingers trail over the row of diamonds gracing the neckline of the dress. 

“You are beautiful.” Her mother strokes her slender fingers down the length of Reverie’s dress. The girl meets her mother’s gaze, and bows her head in thanks. “You grew up so fast.” 

“It is truly stunning, Mama,” she whispers. “I feel like a princess.”

“You are a princess,” her mother reminds her, straightening up and kissing her youngest on the forehead. “The Night Court’s princess. My princess”

“Rhysie hates it when people call him prince or even worse, what Cass calls him, princeling.” She cackles and Mira can only join in; her daughter’s joy is just so infectious. 

Talk of the Hel, Rhys enters the room a second later, an apple in his hand, taking a big bite from it. “You look beautiful, little sister, but don’t ever call me Rhysie again.” He glowers, but there is humour in his eyes, glowing brightly. 

His younger sister grins at him. “Oh, I know you secretly love it.” She turns on her heels to  spin around, once, twice, three times, making the skirt of her onyx dress, adorned with smaller and larger crystals, fly. It almost looks like a shooting star blazing across the dark night sky. It looks stunning. 

Her eyes meet her own in the mirror when she comes to a halt, and she is relieved to find them calm. Thankfully, they don’t show the whirlwind of emotions brewing within her. There is nervousness, anticipation, excitement and fear. 

She will meet Tamlin again. Finally. After such a long time. Two years have passed since they last saw each other. For years, she has been eagerly anticipating meeting him again, the tug on her chest never fading. She never raised suspicion to anyone, not even to Mor, about her feelings, but she’s a smart woman. She knows deep inside what it means. She knows what this tug stands for – the pull on her chest. You are mine and I am yours.

────── ⋆⋅ꕤ⋅⋆ ──────

Reverie is mesmerised – balls held in the Night Court are stunning, but here in Spring they are different. Different in a good and astonishing way. It is the first day of Spring, meaning everything, every small tree and every bush is in full bloom, plants flourish on every corner and flowers bloom wherever you look – inside and outside the manor. 

“Stunning,” she whispers, looking up at her older brother with big eyes, both her hands curled around his elbow. “Don’t you think?”

Rhys only chuckles, and gives his head a little shake. “Too colourful and too many flowers,” he laughs, which makes Reverie roll her eyes. She thinks it is perfect. Absolutely perfect and stunning. 

All the intricate carvings on the manor walls, the beautiful floor, the decorations. Anticipation and excitement fill her, making her grin to herself while admiring the beautiful surroundings – Spring Court is an incredible place, she thinks.

Yet her happy feelings are immediately dampened the moment she sees Tamlin storm out of the throne room through some of the back doors – his pace hurried, his face a grimace, a mixture of disgust and panic. Her heartbeat quickens at the sight of his distressed state and she wants nothing more than to follow him. 

But she can’t. She hasn’t seen him in over two years, would he even appreciate her following him? And what would her father say? Or Rhysand? They would have questions, and would not allow her to go after him, especially not alone. But she has to follow. She has to find out if he is alright because a feeling of anxiousness settles within her chest almost as if she can feel his unease. 

Her palms turn clammy, her heart racing even more the more time passes and she follows after Rhys to what will be their table. Her father greets a few people, maybe other High Lords or whatever.

“Look at the snake, always after him like he is her prey.” Rhys points into the direction of a red-haired female who is walking into the direction Tamlin has left into, but stops abruptly when a man calls her to him. 

Without mentioning her name, Reverie knows that this female must be Amarantha. It is this awful snake who has brought Tamlin into such a distressed state, who made him run away and the alarm bells within Reverie’s mind ring so loudly, she rips her hands away from her brother’s arm and says, her tone on the verge of panicked, “I need to go to the restroom. Where can I find it?”

“I’ll take you–”

“No, Rhys. I am a grown-up female, I can really go find a place to pee on my own.” She clenches her jaw and Rhys understands, speaking the direction to the restroom into her mind and she leaves, not thinking about what she is doing for one more second. She has to go after Tamlin, find him, comfort him if necessary. 

────── ⋆⋅ꕤ⋅⋆ ──────

“There you are.” Her voice is not at all as steady as she hoped for it to be. Her heart is thrumming in her throat, cold sweat coating the back of her neck – both from running and the panic rising within her about not being able to find him.

Tamlin spins around and stops dead in his tracks, eyes opening wide, just like his mouth. “Reverie,” he breathes after a moment, finally closing his mouth. “What are you doing here?”

“I was looking for you.”

Tamlin’s face lights up the moment the words leave her mouth, his eyes shimmer in the soft moonlight and a smile appears on his lips. “I needed a moment,” he admits honestly, keeping prolonged eye-contact with Reverie, not able to look away. 

“She made you feel uneasy.” A flicker of surprise passes over Tamlin’s face, but instead of asking how she knows, he says, “Yes, Amarantha, but let’s not talk about her. How are you? How have you been? Won’t this bring you in trouble – being out here? With me? Alone with me?”

“No one knows I am here. Alone with you.” She grins, a little mischievously, and takes a step closer to Tamlin. Her scent immediately hits Tamlin and he inhales deeply. “And I have been…alright.” Her answer doesn’t really convince him and so he also moves closer to her, away from the lake behind him, reaching out his hand. “Walk with me?”

She takes his hand, her palm sliding against his and once again the sparks erupt in both their hands. “I’ve been in the war camps for the past years. I wanted to come here again, but I couldn’t leave Windhaven.”

“That’s alright.” Tamlin turns to her, his gaze downcast to meet hers. “Rhysand hasn’t been here much either.”

“But it isn’t,” Reverie answers, “I can hear it in your voice that it isn’t. Did you miss me?”

Tamlin is quite surprised about this straightforward question, stopping. His hand squeezes hers slightly, and before he can give her answer, Reverie says, “Because I did. I missed you and that even though we’ve only met once.”

His throat bobs when it works on a swallow and then he smiles. “And I thought I was a fool, a creep, for missing you even though we’ve only met once and didn’t even get a proper chance to talk.”

“Sometimes it just feels right with people, even after only a moment of talking. I felt like this with you.”

She is right, Tamlin thinks. It felt right with her. Like she, more anyone else, even Rhys, could understand him. Like their paths were meant to cross. 

“You don’t want to head back and…dance?”

Reverie shrugs. She would love to dance. But only with Tamlin. “Not necessarily,” she tells him, not wanting to force him to go back to the manor. “And we can always dance out here as well.”

The corners of her mouth lift in a beautiful smile that leaves Tamlin momentarily speechless. “I‘m worried about you.”

“Because I want to dance with you?” Playfully, Reverie nudges his ribs with elbow. 

“Because you—we could get caught.”

“We are two noble children walking through the garden of your manor. It’s not like we are making out or doing…the naughty right in the middle of this rose garden over there.” The moment the words leave her, her cheeks turn a deep red.

Tamlin’s as well, his lips parting and closing a few times before he catches himself and brings a hand up to scratch the back of his neck. “Right…” he whispers. “We are only walking.”

“And looking at the stars.” Reverie turns to him again. “If someone catches us, we’ll just pretend you wanted to learn everything about the stars in the night sky and I was so kind to offer to explain them you.”

A grin appears on Tamlin’s face, spreading from one ear to the other. 

“This is Sirius.” Reverie points up into the sky. “The brightest star in the night sky. It is even more vivid and clearer in the Night Court.”  She turns to Tamlin who is already looking at her. “You need to stop me when I start to bore you–”

“You will never bore me.” He tugs at her hand and it is a silent invitation to sit down on the cool, dewy grass. She follows, and so they sink to the ground, both beige breeches and her beautiful gown forgotten. She shifts closer to the Spring Court male, leaning her head to the side to rest it against his shoulder. “Here we have Pollux and there is Castor…”

She continues telling Tamlin about all the different stars, and he listens to every word she says, drinking in her scent, her voice, the joy within it when she shares her knowledge with him. He laughs at it, and could listen to her ramble for hours and hours, years, millenia. Spending this time with her, despite being nervous about someone catching them, eases all the former tension Amarantha has caused him. Has caused him by touching him, on his thigh and higher up, by…

He shakes off the thoughts, no longer wanting to think about her. He is with Reverie now, and it truly feels like a dream. A dream he never wants to end. 

“I think I’m done now,” Reverie laughs after a moment, and if he could bottle the sound, he would do it, listen to it whenever he finds himself bloody and broken in his room after another outburst of anger from his father. “I hope I didn’t bore you.”

“You would never. I loved listening to you. You know a lot,” he says with a voice full of admiration.

“I love to read and spend my time thinking and learning about the stars. When Rhys and I go flying we will often talk about them and share our knowledge.”

Tamlin smiles. “I am glad you have a brother like Rhys.”

“He is the best. He can be annoying, of course, but overall he is the best brother one could have.” Her grin lights up her whole face. 

Tamlin’s smile also brightens, feeling her joy deep in his heart. He loves that she has a brother like Rhys. 

Fully on its own accord his hand lifts, gazes still locked, and he tucks a strand of silken, black-blue hair behind her pointed ear. “You know what? All I could say about the stars before this evening was that they remind me of your eyes – stunning, endless and full of life. I–”

Everything stops the moment it hits him. The moment it hits them. It snaps in place right in this very moment. 

It feels like lightning striking them, their souls opening, yearning, longing, glowing, a golden ribbon stretching out, connecting their souls and sparks ignite within them. 

“You’re my mate,” Reverie breathes into the silence, the night, and takes the words right from Tamlin’s mouth. 

He only stares at her, dread colliding with panic within his heart. He wants her to take back the words. He wants her to never have said them in the first place. He wants to run. To escape. He doesn’t want them to be mates. He knows what it means them, for her. Knows the kind of danger it puts her in. He can’t let this happen…

tags: @thesnugglingduck @sirenpearldust @lilah-asteria

[madlad-sadgal]

Goldenheart AU

Should I really start thinking up a whole other AU when I'm still trying to plan out one? No. Am I gonna do it anyways? Yes.

Quick note #1, this is a mix of Band AU and "Separated Childhood friends who meet again as adults (except one doesn't know it's their childhood friend)" AU.

Also a note at the end.

Nimona Spoilers (Maybe? Not sure, but I'll out a cut here just in case)

In this AU, there's no kingdom surrounded by big ass walls with canons, although I'm not sure if there are shapeshifters or not (Nimona's still there, I'm just not sure if they can shapeshift or not or if they're just this weird energetic teenager). What is there though is social classes.

The Queen, aka Valerin, is Ambrosius' mother and she runs a very successful company. Ambrosius is therefor part of the richer class which basically has access to anything.

Ballister Boldheart, on the other hand, although he isn't living on the streets, his family isn't doing the best when it comes to money and he does some easy jobs to try and gather money to help his parents.

The boys meet at the park one day. Ambrosius was out playing with some friends from school (Todd maybe with a few random OCs) when he saw the scrawny boy picking up trash, so he decided to approach him. Turns out the scrawny boy (Ballister) was picking up trash to help the park keeper who'd then pay him depending on the amount of trash he picked up

Ambrosius felt bad for him so he decided to help him and didn't leave until his mom's secretary and his nanny (The Director, who else) came to pick him up

The Director obviously saw the two interact and didn't think much of it, until Ambrosius starts asking for money from his mom to help his new friend, which she actively gives him and praises him for helping people in need, and then Ballister's coming to visit and now the two are inseparable

Now she obviously doesn't like that, but she brushes it off thinking that this'll pass when Ambrosius grows up and realizes that he's much better than that

But then something happens (you choose what, can be a death, something good with the company) and Ambrosius has to move away, so the two boys who have been friends for like six-seven are now separated and heart broken, and since Bal can't afford a phone they won't be able to keep in touch, and he outright refuses to let Ambrosius give him one, so now they're separated

Fast forward a few years, it is now Ambrosius' 21st birthday, and to celebrate, he's allowed to choose one band that Valerin will pay to show up, and he chooses the Shifters/The Shapeshifters/whatever else references the movie or comic

The Shifters are a small band that's pretty recent, but Ambrosius loves their songs, and he thinks the lead singer, who goes by Bal, is cute

The band shows up and Ambrosius is having the time of his life, even more so when two members of the band, Bal and Nimona, come to personally wish him a happy birthday

Obviously, he's just talked to his celebrity crush, so he fails to notice just how familiar Bal is, and he doesn't think he'll ever meet the man again

Bal, on the other hand, is well set on seeing Ambrosius again, because holy fuck that's his childhood friend, and he had to practically beg Nimona and the rest of the band (some OCs maybe) to come here just so he could see him

Ballister started this band in hopes that it would take off and he could make a living out of it to help his parents (for plot convenience, it works out or not, depends what direction you wanna go)

So, when Ballister sees Ambrosius again in a cafe, he strikes up a conversation and they end up talking for a long while and end up exchanging numbers

What isn't planned in the plan is for the Director to recognize Ballister and know how much of a crush Ambrosius has on him (despite him not knowing who he really is) and she doesn't like that because someone from higher class dating someone lower class like Ballister hell no

Then starts her plans to foil everything, Nimona being slightly annoyed at Ballister desperately trying to get back in contact with his friend, Ambrosius having a celebrity crush that surprisingly actually works out and Valerin being oblivious to all of this

Ambrosius looks pretty much just like he does in the movie when he's wearing his civilian clothes, except he has long hair with the under part shaved (Is there a name for that haircut?)

Valerin and the Director dress like business women instead of royals

Nimona has basically the same style, except add a bunch of colour: pins, dyed streaks of hair, bright bracelets, etc.

Ballister has a similar style to Nimona, and he dyed a streak of his hair pink (because I can)

That's all I got for now. If this catches anyone's eye, I'll make another part exploring why the Director dislikes the mix of classes so much and how she frames Ballister this time, or the next part can also be about how Bal and Ambrosius get closer.

Quick note #2, this doesn't have anything to do with this, but I'm starting to realize most of my ideas come when I'm doing the dishes, and as dumb as it is, it gives me motivation to do them, so I'm not complaining

Quick note #3, I'm thinking of doing and angsty one shot of that one scene where Ambrosius gets stabbed and it's actually him, except Ballister sings "You Are My Sunshine" to him as he dies because Ambrosius used to sing it to him before everything. Would anyone read it if I posted it?

[bloodynereid]

Loving your Daisy Jones fics! I was wondering if you could do something about the band helping reader with their addiction or something along those lines? :)

Dissected Blush

pairings: daisy jones & the six x reader (platonic!) + reader x fem! oc (only for the end bit you can skip it if you want)

a/n: hiii sorry this took so long for me to post. I literally wrote this months ago but only got around to editing it recently. hope you enjoy and i'm backkkk. and as always requests are always open.

tw: addiction, descriptions of drug highs, mentions of smoking, drugs, swearing, overdose, near death experience

description: drugs became your best friend until it was almost too late.

Y/N: If you were in a band in the 70s a lot of your life revolved around 3 things: sex, drugs and rock and roll. Ok that isn’t necessarily true for everyone but it was certainly true for me. Well mostly the drugs part. I can remember the first time I tried cocaine so vividly…

You quietly closed the back door behind you as you tiptoed over to where your bike lay. A friend from work had invited you to a party about 15 minutes away. And since you had never been to a real LA party you readily accepted.

When you arrived at the really expensive looking house, every room was in a flurry of activity. There was a certain energy in the air from all the bodies who were either high or buzzed from the various alcoholic drinks that lay scattered on every surface.

“Y/N! Over here!” You swiveled around until you spotted the familiar redhead. Natasha eagerly offered you a line of fine powder that was arranged on top of a Vogue magazine.

“What’s this?”

“Have you never seen coke before?”

“Obviously but never in person.”

“Righttt I forgot you were from Pittsburgh of all places.”

“Oh fuck off.” You quickly snorted it as you had seen done in the various movies that showed up during your insomnia filled nights.

The drug instantly hit. And all you felt was euphoria. A high like no other. Nothing compared to this. Not even that feeling of playing in front of a live audience.

You spent the rest of the night high. Taking random lines throughout the many hours of the evening. You met movie stars, directors and parades of models. Each with their own story to tell but you were in such a haze that seconds after they left the conversation it was as if they had never been there at all.

Obviously the next morning when you woke up it was as if a thousand boulders had trampled over your body the previous night. And worst of all you were laying in bed next to an unknown man, someone you vaguely remembered as being at the same level of intoxicated as you were the night before.

But above all as you hastily put on your flared jeans you realized that you were finally able to sleep.

Y/N: It started as a cure for insomnia. I didn’t really realize I was addicted to it. But I snuck out to those parties almost every night. None of the band knew but they probably realized something was up.

Karen: I think it was after Y/N started working at this boutique that there was this sudden change in her. She always came in late and during band sessions or gigs she had this energy she never had before. Not that I really complained though, she was playing incredibly well.

Warren: Y/N was always a straight-laced chic. Growing up in Hazelwood and having the parents that she has would do that to a person. When we got to LA she did a complete 180, like I remember times she would leave as I was just coming in from partying.

You quickly adjusted the red leather jacket you had borrowed from Susan, one of the regulars at the parties you went to. The air on the patio was cool against your sweat covered skin. It was a strange thing that had been happening ever since a few weeks ago but you paid it no mind.

Quickly popping an ‘upper’, you were suddenly interrupted by a loud cough. Taking a quick swig of champagne you turned around and were suddenly met with the sight of Billy Dunne standing in front of you.

You really shouldn’t have been so surprised because you had just been one of the many witnesses to Billy’s spiral since the band’s first tour had started.

“Billy.”

“Y/N.”

“You need something?”

“Can I have one of those?”

“One of what?” You asked as you quickly put your little pill box (it was really a hollowed out blush container) back into your coat pocket, pulling out a packet of cigarettes. “I thought the great Billy Dunne always had a packet of cigs on him.”

“You know what I’m talking about Y/N.” He said as he walked up next to you to the cool, metal railing.

“Hmmm really? Cause I really have no idea what you’re talking about.” You gave him a smug little smile as you leaned your head on his denim shirt. You and Billy had never been close but then again drugs always did bond people together.

“Stop trying to be coy.”

“Very well Mr. Bossman. But don’t go around telling people that I’m enabling your bad habits.”

“If you have that special little case then I’m assuming that they’re your bad habits as well.”

“Shhh it’s a secret.” You pressed your finger to your lips as you let out a short giggle before grabbing the blush case and opening it up to showcase the round white little tablets.

“Now that looks like a mighty bad habit.” Billy looked at you with a smirk as you pressed two of the pills in his palm before snapping the case shut and flicking open your lighter.

“See ya Billy.” You gave him a wink before disappearing through the back gate towards the direction of the motel you knew you were staying at.

Billy: Y/N and I enabled each other. We shared a stupid little secret that was slowly eating away at our health and livelihood. I know for a fact that the rest of the band knew I was in a downward spiral but because of that they never realized Y/N was… until it was almost too late.

Y/N: They became essential for me to function. I fucking loved how I felt with all those chemicals in my system as well. I was a more confident, stubborn and cooler version of myself. All those years in Hazelwood created this little saint of a girl who loved to play the bass but in LA I was able to throw away the parts of myself that my parents loved but I hated. So the night that they called before a show, fuck. *you run a hand through your hair and take a quick sip of sparkling water*

You hung up the room’s black telephone angrily. Why did they still have this stupid hold over you? You thumped down on the bed only to find that your back was unable to relax due to a circular object digging into the middle vertebrae. Digging a hand under your silk covered torso you pull out a blush case.

The same dissected blush case that held your stash of pills you had gotten from Mark. Taking your index finger and thumb you pick up one of the cylindrical tablets. The black nail polish that coats your nails contrasts frightfully against the stark white of the pill. Rolling it between your two fingers you carefully hold it up to the light.

“You know what… fuck it.” Your lilting voice echoed through the empty room as you set down the pill onto the glazed wood that your bedside table was made up of. Taking up the glass that still contained a slight layer of whisky on the bottom of it you quickly smash it violently down against the tablet. When you finish making the pill into a fine powder you suddenly realize how little of it there really was.

You could swear that one of these made you feel like you were on the fucking moon. Shrugging you took a couple more out of the case and restarted your process of smashing the white pills into powder.

After a couple more additions it finally seemed like there was finally enough to get you high. Well… higher than you already were before your parent’s phone call.

Sniffing up as much of the powder as you could, you finally felt that familiar bliss. This bliss was getting so, so close to how you felt the first time you tried coke that you went for another hit.

And that hit was otherworldly. You felt like you were experiencing everything all at once and it was just on another level. You fell down against the bed as the world spinned around you. Then a comfortable feeling spreads over your muscles. Untensing every bone and sinew. Darkness started to flood the corners of your eyes.

Ah finally… rest.

Eddie: Y/N and I were pretty close. My parents were best friends with hers so we were kind of pushed together to be best friends as well. So I was the first one to get worried when she didn’t show up for soundcheck. One of the things that she had never missed. Rain, shine or heavy snow, you could always depend on her being there.

Karen: Eddie kind of asked if I knew where Y/N was and I obviously had no idea. So we both decided to just go down to check on her.

Eddie: You know how some of those motels that have a window that faced the railing, well Y/N’s was open. And that is how we found her. She was just lying there, like she was asleep. But she obviously wasn’t.

Karen: Y/N had a bunch of powder covering her face and there was an obviously heavy film of it on the bedside table.

Eddie: I fucking kicked down that door when I realized what was going on. Karen went to run the shower and I started slapping her the hardest I could. Karen started trying to perform CPR.

You suddenly jolted back into your body. Hard. There was liquid running all over your face and everything felt so. fucking. heavy. You cracked open one of your eyelids and were met with blinding light.

“God?”

“No, sweetheart. You just got us.”

Y/N: After I woke up on that bathroom floor with two of my best friends standing over me looking like they had been scared half to death, I knew I needed a change. Teddy got me into this rehab center and I got into therapy. Cut off my parents, got a prescription for anxiety medication and finally fell back in love with music. Obviously not everything was great right away, it was a fucking journey.

It had only been a few days since you had been back from rehab and you were currently curled up next to Karen in her room. You had just gotten off a phone call with one of your old friends from the boutique and she had invited you over to another one of the customary get togethers, which you had to decline for obvious reasons.

“I hate this.”

“What do you mean?”

“Do you think I fucked up my twenties by overdosing and all that shit?”

“Y/N…”

“No, I swear I’m being serious. I wish I was more like you guys. I mean Warren can do drugs daily and he’s still completely fine. Why did I have to go and mess it all up?”

“You know none of that is your fault right? Yeah you might have started because it was fun but it got bad because of factors out of your control. So stop beating yourself up about it.”

“When did you get so smart?” You heard Karen dramatically gasp as she pulled her hand away from where she was running it through your hair.

“I am offended you didn’t think I was smart before.”

“Hey! You know that is not what I meant at all.”

“Yeah sure.”

Y/N: Things got better. Billy got better as well. I got to meet Daisy who has become a lifetime friend but she was also what you could describe as temptation personified. Daisy was everything I wanted to be. I was that girl before I gave up drugs. So yeah I slipped a few times… maybe more than a few. 

You took a sip of whisky as you watched Daisy glide around the room as if she were walking on air. And then… a Vogue magazine was thrust in your face. A redhead was holding it towards you with a dreamy smile on her face.

“Want some?” You recalled that night from a few years ago, that night when you experienced your first high.

“Of course.”

Y/N: I didn’t get fully clean until the band broke up. Now I’ve got my 18 year sobriety chip and I own a music store in downtown LA where we also sell clothes. Which I guess are vintage now. *You let out a laugh.* So yeah no more redheads with Vogue magazines for me.

Isabelle: Yeah she just exchanged that for brunettes who are on Vogue covers.

Y/N: Oh shut it darling. *You give Isabelle a quick kiss before turning back to the camera.* So yeah I own a music/clothes store and a beautiful little hou-

Isabelle: Yeah sure let’s call it ‘little’.

Y/N: Oh Isa. *You lean your head on her shoulder.* Ok I co-own a house by the beach with my wonderful and astronomically beautiful girlfriend and 3 dogs. A husky named Hades, a golden retriever named Artemis, although we call her Artie and a mixed border collie named Hestia.

Isabelle: We both have an affinity for Greek mythology as you can see.

Y/N: Yes well we are both gay.

The camera fades out as you both let out laughs with the sunset painting an array of colors in the living room where the documentary is being taped.

taglist: @yesshewrites1 (lmk if you want to be added to any of my taglists)

[palettepainter]

Sooooo Teeth and Floyd totally dated right?? how did your ocs Terri and Mick react to the news/how do they feel about Tina after episode 6?? And when Tina was at bands show at the end of s1

!!SPOILERS TO MUPPETS MAYHEM EPISODE 6!!

Episode 6 was made for the LGBTQ+ community

And they 100% dated you kidding me?? They literally ran away together and raised Animal as a pair for god knows how long till the rest of the band came along, they dated, they smooched, they fooled around, they held hands, the directors told me trust me

I like to imagine younger Teeth had such a big puppy love crush on Floyd, who he thought was so cool. He was free and uncaring of views from others, he was daring, risky - something well behaved mama's boy Teeth wasn't used to, but was drawn to. Since Tina didn't like Floyd from the get go imagining the two dancing around Teeth's parents so they could hang out (picture that scene with Flynn and Rapunzel from Tangled or Pear Butter and Bright Mac from MLP)

Tina: *entering Teeth's room* Junior?

Teeth: *plasters a big grin on his face while leaning on the wall* U-uh Yeah mama??

Tina: Just wanna let ya know honey that dinners gonna be ready in a jiff, it's gumbo night!~ And don't you forget to go wash yer hands before you come down okay?

Teeth: *thumbs up, sweating* Yep!

Tina: *smiles* I'll give you a call when it's ready baby ^^ *leaves and closes the door*

Teeth: Mhm.......*sighs* Okay she's gone

Floyd: *peeks out from the warbrode and sighs* Phew!...We gotta find a better way to get around your parents, otherwise your gonna need to get a bigger wardrobe

Teeth: I know..

Tina probably suspected something, and didn't like the idea of this couch surfin' no good muscician datin' her sweet baby boy, but every time she tried to catch them doing something scandalous or Floyd trying to convince Teeth to break rules she'd only find them doing purely innocent stuff, like baking cheesecake or watching the TV (they prolly saved their smooching for when Teeth was round Floyd's house)

As for Terri and Mick they wouldn't mind, I discussed this with Snuf on Discord but Terri would probably really like Teeth, mostly cuz there's nothing about him to hate. They probably knew about Teeth and Floyd being together cuz their was less pressure to try and keep it hidden so Floyd either straight up told them, or Terri and Mick put two and two together. If it was the later I imagine it went down like this:

Terri: *pokes her head through the door* Hey Floyd-

Floyd: *quickly straightens shirt* Uh- Yeah?

Terri:...*raises brow* Everything okay?

Teeth: *hiding behind the door sweating*

Floyd: Yep! Aaaall cool here!

Terri: Right...anyway, me and Mick are headin' out for a few drinks, foods in the fridge so help yourself whenever you're hungry okay?..*looks behind the door at Teeth* Same to you honey, help yourself *looks back to Floyd* We'll be back in a few hours, you boys have fun *leaves room and closes door behind her*

And for how Tina and Mick would feel about Tina after s1? I did have an idea of writing/drawing a small interaction between Terri and Tina of the two hanging out and starting to become friends. I imagine Terri doesn't trust her right away, but she loosens up a little. She probably senses Tina feels bad for pressuring Teeth to be a dentist for so many years and can tell she's genuinely trying to be supportive of Teeth now.

the idea I had was Terri bonding with Tina over a drink during one of the bands concerts - Terri joking that the best thing 'bout Floyd being a rockstar is she gets free alcohol at the events they play at - maybe Tina being convinced to give beer a try, she hates it, and Tina laughing (not unkindly) at her reaction

[currentlyfckingurmom]

Human: Rewritten

Chapter One

Natasha Romanoff x Female OC

A/N: Troyes, France is 6 hours ahead of NYC so 7pm there is 1pm in NYC

Barcelona, Spain; January, 2012

The repetitive ticking of the clock registered in her brain before her eyes even opened. She didn’t need that clock to know what time it was, of course. It was 4:30 am— the same time she’d woken up everyday for the past twenty-five years of her life. She no longer needed to wake up that early, yet it’s a habit so deeply entrained in her framework that it’s seemingly unbreakable. She rolled out of bed and made her way into the dingy kitchen with light footsteps. With some quick math she figures that she got barely two hours of sleep last night, but that’s typical. She started the coffee machine and asked with a sigh, “Would you like some coffee or are you just going to lurk in the corner?”

The leather-clad stranger with an eyepatch stepped up to the kitchen island opposite of her and responded, “I wouldn’t mind a cup. I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised that you knew I was here.”

“Well, you know what they say about old habits. You got a name?”

“You can call me Fury. We have a lot to talk about, Eight.” She slid him a mug of cheap coffee and gestured for him to take a seat.

“Then we’d better get started so you can get the hell out of my apartment.” He simply chuckled in response and Eight could already feel her patience wavering.

Two hours later, Eight rubbed her forehead in an effort alleviate the headache.

“Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement and Logistics Division? Really, dude?”

“Yeah, it’s a mouthful. Trust me I know.”

“I’m sorry that you came all this way for nothing, Fury, but there’s no way in hell I'm working for some government spy circus.”

“It’s technically an extra-governmental spy agency-”

“Doesn’t matter. I’m not joining,” She said, cutting him off.

“So, you’re just gonna hop from one shitty apartment to the next until you die? That doesn’t seem like a great life.”

“Better than the one I lived before.”

“You aren’t the person to live in hiding. You’re the person who thrives in the action and lives to kick ass, and we both know it.” When she didn’t respond he continued, “I’ll leave you my card. When you change your mind, which you will, you’ll know where to find me. You don’t have to be the bad guy anymore, Eight.” With that he slid off the stool and left her apartment, leaving her with nothing but her rapidly spiraling thoughts and a black business card.

Troyes, France; May, 2012:

It had been four months since Director Fury paid a visit to Eight’s apartment in Barcelona. They had kept in contact and he hadn't given up on her joining SHIELD. She’d lived in three different apartments since then. Eight was watching the seven o’clock news when she saw something that made her choke on her Cheerios. “An alien invasion? What the hell is—” Her muffled exclamation was interrupted by the ring of her burner phone. “Hello?”

“Eight, you watched the news recently?”

“Uh yeah, I'm watching it now. You fighting aliens now, Nicky?”

“Okay first of all, I told you to stop calling me that. Second, yes, aliens. I’m forming a team of extraordinary people to help protect against these threats. They could really use a hand to finish off this fight.”

“I may be a bit unusual but I’m not ‘extraordinary’, Fury. I don’t wanna join your band of misfits.”

“Alright, how about a compromise? You fly your fancy jet here right now and help them out and if you still don’t wanna join, you can go right back to France after the fight is over and I’ll stop bothering you about joining.” After a few seconds of silence she agreed.

“Fine, but I’m not gonna change my mind. How do you know about my jet?”

He gave a hearty laugh and said “I know everything, Eight. You should know that by now.”

New York, New York; 96 Minutes Later:

Eight flew her jet into the city, making sure to take out a few flying Chitauri in the process. She found herself extremely grateful for the stolen German jet capable of flying 2100mph. She saw a few interesting characters standing in a circle fighting off an endless sea of aliens. She maneuvered the jet and— Is that guy wearing blue tights? Is this what Fury meant by extraordinary? She landed in the street about 20 yards away and killed the engines, then hopped out and started jogging towards the group. A couple of them turned around, probably wondering who the hell she was and—whoa that’s a beautiful woman. After realizing her steps had literally faltered at the sight of the woman, she slowed to a walk and said “You guys need a hand?”

“Depends on whose hand it is,” replied the gorgeous redhead.

“I’m a friend of Fury’s. He practically begged me to come save your asses.”

“Fury doesn’t beg,” she said in a doubtful tone.

“Not typically, but I'm just that awesome. If you don’t believe me then call him up but I’m gonna go kill some aliens.” With that she took off down another street where there was a group of the repulsive bastards. After unloading all of her magazines into Chitauri bodies, she switched to swords and daggers. After another hour or so of fighting, there were no more aliens in sight. Eight started jogging toward the rich dude’s tower when she saw said rich dude falling through the rapidly-closing portal. She stopped next to Mr. Blue Tights and Mr. Hammer Man when the big green thing grabbed Mr. Rich Dude from the sky and landed next to the group. The green guy yelled, waking Mr. Rich Dude up with a start. “What the hell? What happened? Please tell me nobody kissed me. Except for her, she’s pretty hot,” he said, nodding toward Eight. Just then the redhead jogged over to us and eyed Eight’s blood-soaked form from head to toe.

“See something you like, Red?”

“No. I’m pretty sure I'd be classified as a sadist if I liked the sight of that much blood,” she said with a raise of her eyebrow.

“I’d be into it if you were.”

She shook her head at Eight with a small smirk. There was barely a second of silence when Mr. Rich Dude spoke up.

“Anybody want shawarma?”

Three Hours Later:

Eight had gone to the Triskelion after the band of misfits apprehended Loki. Agent Hill showed her where to land her jet and directed her to a room so she could shower and stay the night if she wanted to. Eight had put on black jeans, a white tank, and a black jean jacket, all of which had been in a to-go bag in her jet. She was toweling off her hair when someone knocked on the door. Eight opened the door to see none other than the one-eyed-wonder standing there. “What can I do for you, Nicky?”

“The Avengers are being debriefed in Conference Room 6B in ten minutes. You should come.”

“The Avengers? Is that what you’re calling them? That’s cute. But I'm not an Avenger and I don’t want to be an Avenger, so no thanks.”

“You should come anyway.”

“I don’t actually have a choice, do I?”

“You know me so well, Eight,” he said with an amused grin.

She walked into the conference room, finding the Avengers already there. Steve Rogers, Clint Barton, Tony Stark, Bruce Banner, Thor, and Natasha Romanoff—whose names Eight had learned from Hill—were scattered around a large table, along with Fury. Romanoff eyed Eight from where she was standing and arched a perfectly sculpted eyebrow at her. Eight squinted her eyes and wiggled her eyebrows in response, and she could see the redhead stifle a laugh.

“What’s your name?” She accompanied the question with a blank expression.

“That’s a very personal question, Miss Romanoff. Let’s slow the pace, please.”

“You know my name but I can’t know yours? That doesn’t seem fair.”

“The world isn’t fair, Miss Romanoff, and I love a good mystery.”

“If you two are done flirting, we have business to attend to,” interjected Fury.

“Right, my apologies, Nicky.”

“Don’t call me that, Eight.”

After an excruciating 43 minutes and 27 seconds, Fury finally let the group leave. Eight was so close to freedom when that unbelievably sexy voice called to her.

“Eight!” Romanoff hastily walked towards her in an effort to catch up.

“Yeah?”

“Is your name actually Eight?”

“If you want it to be.”

“Why are you so damn stubborn?”

“It amuses me, Red.” There was a brief silence during which both women were trying to figure out if the conversation was over.

Eight was about to leave when Natasha continued, “So that’s it? You’re just gonna leave?”

“Well, no. I’m going to stay the night, steal some really expensive jet fuel, and then leave in the morning before Fury can get up my ass about joining his little team.”

She rolled her eyes and responded, “Why won’t you join the Avengers? And why won’t you tell me your real name?”

“It’s just not my style. I’d rather fly solo.”

“You ignored my second question.”

“Then maybe you should take the hint and stop asking.” With that she turned around and started walking away, but a hand on her arm stopped her dead in my tracks. Alarms started going off in Eight’s head, and Romanoff might’ve been saying something to her, but she was too caught up in the memories to register it. After a few seconds, the white of her vision cleared up and the voices in her head faded into the background. Her heart was still hammering in her chest and she was trying to keep her breathing steady. Eight regained her neutral expression and said. “Sorry, did you say something?”

“Are you okay?” Natasha had a concerned expression and if Eight wasn’t so blinded with anxiety, she would’ve appreciated how cute the furrow of her eyebrows was.

“Yeah, I’m fine. I’m just gonna turn in. It’s been a long day.” She turned around and walked back to her temporary room at a brutal pace. As soon as the door closed behind her, hot tears raced down her cheeks and she lost the ability to breathe as she fought the old conditioning messing with her head. It was gonna be a long night.

3:21 am:

She finally managed to calm herself down and stop the panic attack after almost four hours. Trying to sleep would be pointless, so she decided to leave before anyone woke up. Eight didn’t have much to pack so she grabbed her duffel bag and left the room. She made it to the corridor attached to the landing pads, then ran into the one person she really didn’t want to see. “What are you doing out and about, Red?”

“I’ve got places to be and things to do. Were you just going to sneak out in the middle of the night like a teenager with a rebel streak?”

“Yes, that’s exactly what I’m doing, actually. Do you need a ride? Where are you going?”

“Madrid. Fury said I could hitch a ride on another plane that’s headed for Germany.”

“Well I’m going to France if you wanna ride with me. My jet will get you there a lot faster.” Natasha studied her for what felt like way too long, probably debating if Eight would try to kill her or not. Spies can be so untrusting.

“What the hell, why not?”

And that is how she ended up in a jet with “Candy Shop” playing over the speakers and Natasha Romanoff in the copilot seat yelling at her to ‘slow the fuck down!’

“Why would I slow down, you psycho?! That’s the whole damn point of this thing!”

“Where did you even get a German jet this fast?”

“Germany.”

“No shit Sherlock. How did you get it?”

“I went to Germany, stopped in at the local speedy-jet dealership, and walked out with this beauty.”

“Sarcasm is a defense mechanism, you know. You’re dodging my questions.”

“You act like you’d answer my questions if I were to start asking about you.” It was quiet as the two women shared a look of mutual understanding.

Madrid, Spain:

Eight landed the jet at the local SHIELD base and killed the engines. They removed their headsets and Eight stood to help Romanoff get her bags. “Well, I’ll see you around I guess.” Eight had never been good at goodbyes. Or any social interactions, really. Twenty-four years in a cell will do that to you.

“Will I? See you around, I mean.”

“Um, I don’t know, honestly.”

“Why won’t you join SHIELD? I mean what else are you doing?”

“Oh, I see. You just love me so much that you don’t want me to leave. You’re gonna miss me so much-” Eight was cut off when Natasha threw her backpack at my head. “Hey! You’re lucky I caught that! Fucking crazy woman.”

When their laughter died down, Natasha said, “Well I should probably go. Thank you for the ride.”

“Of course. Hitchhikers are always welcome aboard my beloved jet.” A small smile appeared on her face and she stepped forward to give Eight a hug but she must’ve seen her body go rigid because she stepped back. And then she was gone. Eight walked to the front of the jet and started the journey to France.

Series masterlist

[fancywasmyname93]

✶ Take Me Away ✶

◼︎ Duff McKagan/OC multi-chapter story ◼︎ (This is a work of fiction but will feature real life people/situations. Material will be mature and explicit at times. Story will mention drug/alcohol abuse, sexual/physical abuse, failed pregnancies, sexual content, and cursing. Please be advised.)

✴︎Taglist to be available soon ✴︎

⏟⏟⏟⏟⏟⏟⏟⏟⏟⏟⏟⏟⏟⏟⏟⏟⏟⏟⏟⏟⏟⏟⏟⏟⏟⏟⏟⏟⏟⏟⏟

“Whenever you’re ready.”

I adjusted myself in the seat, crossing my legs as I leaned against the cushion. My heart was racing as I watched those around prepare the cameras – all eyes trained on me. It’s been almost 30 years since I spoke about it – pushing it into the back of my mind once we went our separate ways. We both had families now – finally growing up and becoming the people we were supposed to become. The subject of our relationship forgotten by those that dragged us through the mud each week – our photos hidden deep in boxes and back pages of Google. Everyone had to have known that our relationship would engulf in flames. We were young, naïve, and reckless. He was the ultimate rockstar – a member of the world’s most dangerous band. I was the child star that slowly grew into the woman every man fantasized about. My days of being on the kiddy channels were stripped away the moment he and I got together. Both of our innocents being removed as the chaos around us became public knowledge.

“You look nervous.”

I looked up at the director, a small smile forming on my face. “I am.”

He gave me a sympathetic look, “We already spoke to him – it’s your turn now, Charlotte.”

He already told his side – I mean it was his story to tell – the poor guy went through hell. When I got the call for the documentary, I didn’t think I would have to tell my side of the story. I thought maybe I would just be asked one or two questions and go on my way. Or not even be interviewed, just permission to be named and spoken about. I was shocked to hear his voice on the other end – still sounding like he did all those years ago. I’m not gonna say I wasn’t hesitant to agree to the interview. Even though I pushed the memories back, the thought of some of them still hurt even to this day. I can’t stress this enough but we were young, naïve, and reckless.

I nodded my head, “Okay.”

The director took his seat in front of me, the camera mounted next to him as my face shown on the monitors. He had assured me that this would be the most informal interview I’d ever done. I took a couple deep breaths as the stage became quiet. The clapper coming between us, counting down as the cameras started to record.

“So, I’m just gonna have you introduce yourself and then we’ll start with the questions.” He smiled.

I let out a sigh, “Okay-“ I started. “Well, my name is Charlotte Vanlere, but most people know me as Charlie Nelson or Charlie McKagan. And -" I paused. "I was married to Duff McKagan from 1989 to 1993."

[pevensiechase]

The Robins Band AU Lore that nobody asked for

I'm writing a DC Band AU with the Robins and a couple of OCs. Here's lore that I created instead of actually writing.

Wayne Recording Studios was built after Bruce Wayne retired as Batman (DJ or singer idk)

Dick is lead singer

Jason is electric guitar

Tim is bass/keyboard (since he's good with technology he figured out a way to get his keyboard to repeat chords while he plays bass and can also change/add chords into the mix)

Damian is drummer

At one point, they [The Robins] broke up and went solo, though that didn’t last very long 

The boys went under their respective superhero names

Dick - Nightwing

Jason Todd because a masked DJ called Red Hood (like Marshmello or Daft Punk) it wasn’t until after they reunited that he announced he was Red Hood

Tim Drake went solo and simple, though he rebranded a few times: Red Robin and Drake. They say his failed solo career was one reason for a reunion. He used a lot of launch pads as well as his repeating chord technique.

Damian actually wasn’t around when they split 

Cass joined at some point, coming on as their sound mixer under the name of Black Bat

Broke away and started her own thing under Orphan

Steph started a band, which Cass is apart of, called Spoiler Alert

Babs is stage manager/tech director ofc, though back in the day, she started out with the name Batgirl under the Wayne Recording Studios but went solo for a bit as Oracle. 

Duke is new and helps Babs out with stage managing. He guest plays with the Robins as a DJ. Often MCs for shows. Just getting the feel for the music world

[stormvanari]

oc episode stuff:

-The Psyche Rescue Team escaped to Broomstown from Mirage City and hid in that "tire labyrinth." Their sudden appearance scared Spooky, and he contacted the Broomstown Rescue Team to extract them from the site. However, Amber noticed bruises on each of the PRT members and before she could come closer to aid them, the trio fled further into the labyrinth, but got stuck and caused chaos. Afterwards, the trio were sent to Jin for closer inspection, and they identified themselves as Lucky, Qin, and Midnight. It was tough for the BRT to interact with them, since the PRT came from an abusive director. Once they accepted the BRT's trust, the PRT were then taken a tour around Broomstown to get comfortable with their citizens. Then there's this psychological warfare between the PRT and their director over radio waves in the second half of this 2-part special. The BRT and Jin, plus the Mountain and Desert Rescue Teams, band together to prove they're the PRT's REAL studio!

-During a stormy mission to retrieve items stolen by pirates, Poli was knocked overboard into the crashing waves and was rescued by Isla. She takes him to the Aqua Rescue Team's base in Ripple Island. Poli meets Fisher and Khai, the latter being ART's leader. The police car disagreed with the boat's way of lazily leading a rescue team, but a picture frame leading to a story behind Khai's leadership becomes clear to Poli. He learns that ART's leader was an old friend of Sandy who Khai cut contact because of a near-death experience. They were reluctant to take risks because Khai didn't want to hurt people or their close ones, especially Fisher and Isla (who did the missions for their leader). Basically, Khai's barely in the frontlines themselves and Poli worked to fix that. They would then work together, including the other ART and BRT members, to take down the pirates who looted from Broomstown earlier in the episode. Afterwards, Khai wanted to send their apologies to Sandy, but Poli asked them if he can take them to Sandville in-vehicle. ART's leader was surprised their friend became a rescue team leader. "Her team would love to meet a friend of their leader." But Khai replies cryptically to Poli, "It's up to Sandy."

-The citizens of Broomstown are both annoyed and terrified of their new visitors. The BRT were dispatched to investigate the situation and found three unidentified vehicles surrounding an uncomfortable citizen. But the BRT found themselves faced with two UFOs, who poured hundreds of questions onto them, and they were escorted to the base to figure things out. The vehicles introduced themselves as the Space Rescue Team: Titan and Titania are the leaders, Altair is the reconnoiterer, and Luno is the "traveling box." They wanted to find a better planet to live in, since their previous one is struck by constant war. The BRT offered to help, but the SRT denied it since the current conditions on their home planet are dangerous. Later on, the SRT and BRT have to work together to deflect an incoming asteroid from their planet and the SRT decided to make their home at the atmosphere of Earth (since, as a rescue team, they decide to look after the planet in their satellite-like base Titan and Titania made). Unlike the PRT and before they were picked up by the BRT, the Space Rescue Team were welcomed by frustration from Broomstown's citizens since Titan and Titania, Altair, and Luno accidentally made a mess across the way (despite fixing them before the asteroid came in).