#one of the companies i interviewed with on wednesday wants to schedule a second interview!!!

[wickedhawtwexler]

things are picking up in my job search hell yeahhh

[kirstenlinae]

Trying to shift

I attended a Zoom OA meeting today. I wanted to join one at 9am and then again at 9:30am but, the passcodes for the meetings wouldn't work for me on my zoom account for some reason. Then there were a couple of meetings that just didn't start at all, I waited like 10 minutes past the meeting time for both and no host came in to start them. Very frustrating. However, I did find one that I like and I will try to make it a habit to go to again on Wednesday mornings at 10. It was a small meeting, only 6 of us. All the ladies were older than me, most of them much older. That doesn't matter to me, though. I figure, the older the members are, the more wisdom that they have to share. In the beginning of the meeting we talked about tools for recovery and today's assigned tool was the eating/meal plan. It seemed like this particular meeting didn't assign itself to any strict regimen as far as a meal plan goes, everyone had a different definition of their own eating plan. I was asked to share and I did a couple of times where it was relevant. Everyone posted their phone number in the chat, including me. I haven't received any texts just yet but, one of the members I talked with after the meeting had invited me to speak at another meeting that is on Friday nights, about my sobriety from drugs and alcohol. I told her that I couldn't this week because I work second shift on Fridays usually but, I could request off for a Friday in the future and call in to this particular meeting. It felt good to have my sobriety recognized so quickly, even though I'm technically still struggling from an addiction (food). Before we parted ways, she said, "I hope your food brings you peace today." I appreciate that sentiment. I only have a little bit of anxiety from what I ate for "breakfast," however, I have a plan for the rest of the day and I am confident that I can stick to it.

I would like to try one OA zoom meeting a day for a little while. Find a few that I would like to attend regularly. As I mentioned in a previous post, there are couple that are pretty local to me but, they are held during the days/times that I usually work, also. So, unless my schedule changes or I request off, the in-person meetings are not conducive to my regular work schedule.

I have been thinking about discussing a few things with my dietician at our next appointment. I could call her but, I want to wait to see how the next month goes and I want to see what the psychologist says regarding my evaluation for surgery. If the psychologist is good at her job, she will see what I already know. I don't know that I am ready for surgery so quickly. I think I would benefit from a longer monitored diet regimen, some more OA under my belt, and some more food addiction-related therapy as well. I also think it would benefit me to make my own diet plan, tailored to the one I am already on for surgery. I think I need to make more concrete plans/goals for myself because right now, that concept seems foggy to me.

In other news, my interview for that full-time job got rescheduled to next Tuesday. Pretty annoying but, I worked for that company before and honestly, it doesn't surprise me. Since applying for that job, however, I have been thinking twice about going back to work full-time. For one, my biggest housekeeping client said that she is referring me to one of her friends so, I could potentially get another house in my schedule. Second, in order to make moving to full-time even worth it (meaning, quit housekeeping and working part-time), I would have to make at least like $18/hour and I know that place isn't going to pay me near that. I would be surprised if they did, let's just say that. Lastly, I need the flexibility of working part-time because of my myriad of doctor's appointments, my responsibility to take my boyfriend to work every day on second shift and my housekeeping clients that I've made a commitment too. Plus, my small business is growing...which is what I set out to do 6/7 months ago, anyway. I think I would like to work somewhere other than the hotel, though. This morning, I applied to two different Torrids that are kind of close to me. We'll see if anything happens with that, I guess.

That's all I've got for today. I have to get ready for work in a bit. Until next time <3

[lucky-catttt]

Maxwell Lord’s Aphrodite - Pt 1

Summary: When Maxwell Lord’s world comes crashing down, you, his personal assistant bring him back from the pits of despair.

Pairings: Maxwell Lord x Reader (female), Maxwell Lord x You

Rating: Mature 18+ ONLY - I’ve also put a smut alert ahead in bold if you want to skip straight to the good bits ;)

Word Count: 7,381

Warnings: Sexual intercourse, foreplay, mentions of domestic abuse, trauma, drug/alcohol abuse.

A/N: This is my first fan-fic, so the writing might not be fantastic, but if you have any pointers/advice please tell me! I always read stories about Maxwell being a domineering guy and never stories about how he can be romantic and soft. When I watched WW84 especially at the end I saw how emotional and vulnerable he was with Alistair and wanted to write a story that portrayed him as a big cuddly teddy bear under all that masculine exterior. Enjoy!

You’ve worked for black and gold corporation for the better part of 7 years. You were hired as an intern assistant at just 21, soon after the company jettisoned from its humble beginnings inside a matchbox office suite on the corner of a strip mall, to a stock market listed company leasing the top floor in the tallest high rise office building in Los Angeles. Soon after moving in, the top floor office was packed with young, vibrant men and women who helped profits soar. But even at its busiest, Maxwell always made time for his staff. No matter what he was going through, he would give his staff his undivided attention and empathy. If they were having personal or professional problems, he would do everything he could to help. It aligned with his company motto, “life is good, but it can be better”.

He believed it was important to be as personable and helpful to others as possible, he felt that it was imperative to his own success. Only you knew this really stemmed from his less than favourable upbringing, being abused by his father, bullied by his peers and having to work hard for his achievements. He could be having the worst day, but he would never make it known to his team, all except you of course, being his personal assistant. As you spent a large amount of time together, Maxwell confided in and involved you in many personal areas of his life. 6 months after you started working for Max, he invited you and your then boyfriend to his wedding, stealing a waltz from you at the Reception. A year later, when his son, Alistair was born, he would show you picture after picture of baby photos, gushing about how proud he was to be a father. 3 years later when the company had its first day on the US stock exchange, you and Max stayed up all night at the office running through press releases, interviews and planning the next 6 months of his now very hectic schedule. When Alistair would come to the office to visit, you would babysit and play with him, change him, feed him, read him stories and sing him to sleep.

As he started to grow up, you soon rivaled Max in Alistair’s favourite person to spend time with at the office. Two years ago when you ended up in a very bad car accident and broke your arm, Max showed up personally to the hospital looking frantically worried about you. He even brought along Alistair who was helping carry a giant bouquet of flowers, a teddy bear and balloons. He stayed overnight after your surgery, sleeping in the most awkward positions on the single armchair next to your hospital bed. While you were in surgery, he made sure your work health insurance covered every cent and even provided company paid physiotherapy so you could get better properly. You knew you were in love with him since that dance at his wedding, but you had too much respect and adoration for him to be a homewrecker. Plus, you just assumed as he was so involved with all of his staff, that it didn’t mean he would be into you romantically.

As you were required to attend many of the shareholder and CCO/CEO/CFO meetings to take minutes, you became intrigued with the world of business and economics. So you enrolled in a Bachelor’s degree part time through a local University. At the time, women in business was largely unheard of, and to avoid sexist comments and discrimination, you told no one. When the Global Financial Crisis hit, it slammed into Maxwell’s dreams like a meteoroid. Overtime was required at the office and you spent most of your time in Max’s office doing paperwork for staff that had been laid off due to the budget cuts. Each day he would be on the phone, yelling at other business men on the other side of the world. You watched his positive energetic demeanor slowly chip away, as his drinks cart full of spirits and liqueurs dwindled alongside. Not long after, Black and Gold’s Chief Financial Officer and advisors within the company were arrested for Insider Trading and other shady business dealings.

Throughout all of this, you had given Max as much support, personally and professionally as you could, while still being respectful and platonic as he was a married man. With most of the staff gone and the company’s finances in disarray from the GFC and mismanagement, the universe dealt Max the final blow, his divorce. His wife, who was clearly only interested in him for his money and how it could provide her a cushy lifestyle, filed for divorce as the company was failing. She tried to take him to the cleaners financially, but Max was smart enough to have a prenuptial agreement and keep what was left of his dwindling fortune. So she used their son, Alistair, as a pawn in her game. The courts granted Max shared custody, but only one visit per fortnight. This devastated him as his son was his whole world.

He didn’t want to become destitute by giving up his fortune to his wife, but he didn’t want to lose his son, either. It started to tear him apart, leading to drunken nights in his office, alone. Except, he wasn’t totally alone. Every night, after everyone had gone home, you would stay back late each night to check on him and make sure he hadn’t done anything stupid. You would sit in one of the barren office cubicles with a vantage point to his office, but invisible to see from his desk. With tears sitting at the edges of your eyes, you silently watch him drink enough alcohol to chill out a bull, take some pills, flip through photo books of Alistair and start to sob. This went on for months. Overdue bills and foreclosure notices started to pile up on his desk. Egregiously inflated child support payment requests from his ex-wife littered the coffee table in his office.

Today was an exceptionally hard day, Max had received a resignation letter from his second last employee, leaving just you and him in the office. He slept on the futon in his office the night before, waking up looking disheveled, his tie pulled loose, shirt half tucked, suit jacket on the floor and his shoes god knows where. He looked awful.

Night falls, shrouding the office in darkness. Apart from a few desk lights, the floor is cold & dark. As you start packing boxes with office paperwork and belongings, you glance over to see the outline of Max at his desk, with his back turned, silently smoking a cigarette and drinking a glass of whiskey on ice. He reaches back for a brief moment, to press the answering machine, illuminated by his desk lamp. *beep* Message received, Wednesday, 4:33 pm “Hello Maxwell this is Brittany from AMP investments, your lease agreement with us has been defaulted for 6 months now with $150,000 in rent arrears. If it is not paid by the 30th of this month, building management will deactivate access to the floor and repossess any remaining belongings on the property. *beep* End Message. Message received Thursday, 5:43 pm “Max it’s Barb, I’m cancelling Alistair’s visit this weekend, seeing as you don’t want to pay me any extra child support.” *beep* End Message. Message received today, 7:02 pm “Hey Daddy, it’s Alistair, Mommy said I can’t come over because you’re working too much to see me. I wish you weren’t working all the time so we could play together and go to the movies and-“ you hear Barb, Max’s ex wife cut him off with “Alistair? What are you doing on the phone?! Who are you talking to?” Alistair whines, “I wanted to talk to Daddy” suddenly the sound of the receiver slams into the phone. *beep* End Message. You have no new messages.

The office is dead silent, but you can audibly hear the sound of Max’s heart shattering into a thousand pieces. He begins to cry, slowly shrinking in his chair, slumping down with his forearms on his knees and his head bowed. The cries slowly become more intense, with Max gasping for air between the long loud shrieks as his whole body shakes. “Alistair! My Alistair! My boy! I’ve failed you! Your Daddy failed you!” He wails, tears freely flooding down his face and snot dripping out of his nose, both like endless waterfalls. He drops to his knees and collapses onto the carpet, like he’s been shot right through the chest. He continues to sob & wail, forgetting that he isn’t alone in the office. You walk to the doorway of his office, frozen with indecision. Your heart was pounding and eyes on the verge of tears from what you just heard. On one hand you feel like you’re intruding on something extremely personal and maybe somewhat embarrassing for Maxwell, but you’ve never seen him like this and he looked like he was physically dying.

“Mr Lord, is everything okay?” Your soft voice quietly called out from the doorway of his office. Your medicated voice jolts Max out of his catatonic state and into a sitting upright position, as he quickly wipes his face and fixes his hair. “Oh, Ug-I’m so sorry for you to see me like this, it’s quite unbecoming of me” Maxwell apologises, trying to play it off with a light hearted chuckle between quiet heaved sobs. You catch a frozen stare, peering straight into his soul past the bloodshot, weepy but warm, brown irises.

Your heart is thumping hard, as if to try and break out of your ribcage and fly over to him. Max had been there for all of his staff, especially you. You couldn’t walk away after everyone else in his life had abandoned or given up on him. “You don’t need to apologise, Mr Lord.” You slowly reply, stepping over the booze bottles littering his office floor as you walk over to him. He’s frantically adjusting his outfit and hair, to look as put together as possible before you sit down beside him on the floor. You both sit there in silence, with the odd sniffle coming from Max’s nose. You finally pucker up the courage and say “I didn’t want to intrude but I heard the voice messages, I’m so sorry all of this has happened to you, Max”.

He had never heard you say his name before, it was always “Mr Lord”. It felt like honey soothing his dry strained throat as it rolled off your tongue. You continued, “You’ve always been there for me”, you paused to redirect attention, “for all of us. What can I do to help?”. You reach out and place your hand on his. Your warm, soft touch sends a shock wave of emotion through his body. No one has cared about him like this before, let alone touched him in such a gentle way. Max stares at your now teary eyes, realising he can be vulnerable and trust his longest and closest friend.

He collapses by your side, crying into your shoulder “I’m a failure” he sobs “My business, my marriage and most importantly I’ve failed my son. I just hope one day that he can forgive me and love me and be proud of me. He is my whole life, I just want him back”. You start to choke up but you have to remain composed. You look up and away, silently biting your knuckle and blinking tears back into your eyes before responding. “Max, you are not a failure, you are an exceptional human being. You built this company from nothing and you changed peoples lives. And don’t even get me started with Alistair, you’re the best father a kid could ask for, it’s not your fault your ex wife is being abusive”. He continues to sob, so you wrap your arm around his side and let him cry for a few minutes. The smell of his chemically lightened & straightened dark blonde hair filled your nostrils as his forehead pressed against your chin.

His large fingers and palms grip your free hand. They’re surprisingly soft & very warm. You freeze as his touch sends zaps of electricity up your arm and down your body. As Maxwell leans against you, your perfume overloads his senses, bringing him back to a conscious state. What was he doing? He thought to himself. I’m a failure, and everything I get close to fails or leaves. He looks down at your hands. I can’t hurt such an amazing person. I have to rip off the metaphorical bandaid and be cruel to be kind. “Thank you” he sighs, catching his breath after minutes of sobbing “You can go home now. In fact, I want you to take a redundancy payout so you can find another job. There’s nothing left for you here. I’m a failure and I don’t want you drowning with the ship” he says, in a clinically professional voice. Max hands you a company envelope with your name on it. He sits up to take a sip on the remaining whiskey left in his glass.

Your ears begin to burn and your cheeks redden with anger. Tears prick at the edges of your eyes, begging for them to flow. “Alfred will take you home in the company car, or wherever you want to go”. He continues, now smoking a cigarette.

“But what If I don’t want to go?” You whisper, trying to hide the sobs that are trying to break through your voice. “Please, I just want you to be happy” Max replies. You take great offence at his ignorant statements, as if he knows what makes you truly happy. “How do you know what makes me happy, Max?” You huff, standing up abruptly and folding your arms. “Well, I don’t know, but I can’t exactly see how you would be happy staying here while my company fails” he answers, shrugging. You feel your heart begin to break, realising that even being single and having such a close professional relationship with you, Max seemed to hold no deeper feelings for you and was almost starting to turn on you. You stand there wanting to run for the door but trying to think logically. Men are dim, maybe he doesn’t realise your true feelings? Maybe he’s preoccupied with his own and too overwhelmed to face them?

Max’s embarrassment from being caught in such a vulnerable state compounded with offending you takes its toll and he starts to get frustrated and impatient. “I think I just want to be alone now”. He sighs, looking away. The words cut deep, slicing you apart like ribbons. You begin to feel yourself fall apart, your emotions and thoughts spilling out with force. “I can’t leave” you sob, hanging your head in shame. Hearing you start to cry, he starts to hate himself more as he's clearly made you upset. With emotions bubbling over, he stands up, looking at you with tears in his eyes. “Why? Why can’t you leave!?” He shouts, a pained look of frustration and confusion on his face as he puts his hands on your arms, gently shaking you to get you to speak.

The last of the ribbons tying up your words from coming out fall down around you. You look deep into his crazed brown eyes, longing for an answer. “Because I love you!” You blurt out, sobbing. The tension in the room is now thick enough to cut with a knife. “I’ve loved you since the night we danced at your wedding. I fell in love with one of the most empathic, intelligent, hard working and compassionate men I know. You changed my life and every day I wish I could’ve shown you the love & kindness you deserve. That you need”. You step back from his grip, straightening your pantsuit as you compose yourself. “But I guess if I’m not needed anymore, I’ll leave you alone, Mr Lord”. The duality of your emotive declaration of love against the rigid clinical final words lurched his heart forward like a freight train and then slammed against his rib cage with the force of 100Gs.

You start to stride towards the door, but Maxwell follows behind you quickly, grabbing your hand, where you turn around on your heels. He grabs both of your hands and brings them up between you, squeezing them gently. “Pl-please don’t, don’t leave me” he begs, “you-you’re all I have left”. His dark brown eyes shimmer with tears as he shoots you a pleading gaze. He drops to his knees, wrapping his arms around your legs and squeezing tight like he's hanging on for dear life. You stand frozen on the spot, feeling Max’s warm breath on your legs as he heaves a few more cries. As you start to run your hands through his dark blonde locks, the sensation calms your mind and you reach your hands down to cup Max’s face, tilting it up to look at you. “I won't, Max” you say with a concerned gaze. “As long as you don’t push me away”. Max nods silently as he reaches into his jacket pocket to pull out his pocket square. He stands up and starts to gently wipe your tears away. “I’m so sorry” he apologises “I lashed out because I felt like a failure and I didnt want to let you down anymore and disappoint you.” he continues while making sure he’s wiped all of the tears from your cheeks and cleaned up some of your smudged makeup. “You’re not a failure, Max” you reply, “You’re an incredible man and you should be proud of everything you have achieved”.

Max gives you a small smile, blushing slightly as he gently embraces you with his big arms, pulling you close against his chest. His strong cologne masked the slight tinge of body odour from not showering mixed into a masculine and attractive scent. You quietly inhale as much as your lungs will allow, savouring every smell. As he starts to brush through your curls with his large fingers, he plants a small kiss on your head, making you feel like you could melt out of his arms and into a puddle on the floor. “I’m sorry, too.” you whisper. “Sorry for what?” he quizzes, looking down at you, puzzled. “For telling you that I love you. It’s true, but I feel like it was not the most appropriate time to tell you with everything that’s going on with Alistar, the company, your-” Max interrupts your sentence “Come with me”. Max strides you across his office floor with his arm around your waist. You both walk over to an unassuming door, which you always thought led to a supply closet. Upon its opening, you step into the room to reveal a whole bedroom, complete with a dining table, sofa, TV and ensuite. You had been Max’s personal assistant for 7 years and had no idea such a room even existed. “Wow” you manage to blurt out in complete shock. “I had this room made so that when I was working long hours my ex-wife and Alistair could stay here” Max explained, adjusting bits and bobs around the room “Although my ex-wife never stayed. She always accused me of sleeping with other women in this bed when in fact I was actually working. I kind of live here now, having sold my estate to pay to keep the company running”

He gestures to you to sit on the timber art deco dining chair, as he picks up the phone on the coffee table. “Alfred. Can you please take a drive and bring back any decent takeout food you find. Make sure to get some for yourself, too”. Max hangs up the phone before turning on the radio and then grabs two wine glasses from the small bar by the lounge and a bottle of red wine. He places both glasses on the table and fills both half way. You pick up your glass and walk over to the floor to ceiling window, overlooking downtown LA. As Max is fussing over tidying and making the room perfect, he glances over to see you standing alone, looking out the window. Lost in your own little world, you feel Max’s large soft hand intertwine with your free hand. “I started black and gold in a shoebox office inside a strip mall, over there, in South LA” he points just in front of the hills. He pauses. “I expect that after I get evicted I won’t even be able to lease that same office”. You give his hand a small squeeze. “Maybe I could help you”. Max looks at you dubiously. “How do you mean?” He inquired.

Just as you were planning to answer, Alfred arrives with some food. Max walks over to your dining chair and pulls it out, gesturing for you to sit. You take your seat and he flaps a linen napkin into your lap, before sitting down adjacent to you. Alfred had bought some delicious Mexican food, the intoxicating smell of meats, cheeses and spices filling the room. “Thank you, Alfred. I’ll call you again if we need anything” Max smiles, patting Alfred on the back as he leaves. You both sit at the table for hours, eating, drinking and talking about the company. Max finally learns the secret that you’ve been hiding about studying at University. “I haven’t officially graduated yet, but learning what I have, I could probably help Black and Gold get out of its current predicament. I also might know some investors that I befriended in the same units as me from the University”. Max shoots you a soft smile. “You really are the best assistant and friend anyone could ask for” he beams, placing his hand on yours. Embarrassed by his compliment and burning with desire to want to kiss him, you stand up and head over to the couch to distract yourself from your intense feelings. Max realises the use of the word friend was probably a poor choice. He must be honest with you and tell you how he feels. Max joins you on the couch where your arms are crossed and you’re staring ahead. You’re trying to avoid eye contact else you’ll burst into flames.

********SMUT ALERT********

“I hope you don’t think I’m rude or ignoring the impassioned declaration you made earlier” Max smiles “I just wanted to give you a semi-decent first date”. You feel your cheeks begin to blush and you unfold your arms. “The truth is” Max continues, resting his hand on yours. “I feel the same way about you. Even before my ex-wife divorced me, I started to fall in love with you. The way you are with Alistair, how committed you are to helping me. I just didn’t think you’d wanna be with an older man like me and even more so when everything started to go downhill”.

You place your hand on top of Max’s, both now staring at each other softly yet intensely. “Max” you turn to face him, edging closer. Max nervously places his hands on your cheeks. “I’ve waited for 7 years, please kiss me”.

Max finally kisses your lips, setting your whole body alight. Dizzy from the sensation, you lay back on the couch as Max follows down on top of you. He begins peppering slow, thoughtfully placed kisses down your jaw and neck. You let out a whimper as your hands twirl through his hair. Every movement he makes is slow, as if he is trying to slow down time and make this moment last forever. Max comes back up and passionately kisses your mouth, your tongue begging his for entrance. As your tongues intertwine, he holds your head and neck with one hand, while stroking your hair with the other. Max holds you gently yet strongly in his arms, like he’s holding onto a fragile Fabergé egg. With the position you’re in on the couch and the impracticality of your work attire in non-work sitting positions, he senses that you’re uncomfortable.

“May I?” He asks, holding the zipper to your dress as he places his arms behind your back. You nod and he slowly unzips it, gently slipping it off you and carefully folding it over the armrest of the lounge. Overcome with passion and desire from Max’s romantic gestures, you blurt out “I want you to take me, Max”. Without a word, he scoops you up in his arms and walks you over to the bed, placing you down gently in the middle. Max sits at the foot of the bed, marvelling at your stunning body. You’re wearing stockings and a purple lingerie set, coincidentally Max’s favourite colour.

Max leans down and kisses the top of your foot, peppering kisses up your legs before reaching the clips of your garter belt. He unclasps them before rolling down the stockings, kissing back down your legs. Burning with desire, you unclasp your bra and garter belt, throwing them to the side of the bed. Max looks up from kissing your legs to see your breasts exposed in the moonlight, your nipples hard from his gaze.

“Y-you look absolutely beautiful” he chokes before climbing up on top of you to reach your face. You blush, feeling Max’s extremely hard cock straining in his suit trousers against your thigh. “Kiss me, Max” you moan, brushing your lips against his and moving your hand down towards his crotch. Max slowly and passionately begins to kiss you, your tongues swirling in each other’s mouths, the taste of wine and chilli making for a sensual combination. As your hand reaches Max’s crotch, you begin to grope and rub his sizeable length, causing him to let out a loud moan. You shoot him a cheeky sexual gaze, but he grabs your hand and brings it up for you to cup the side of his face. “Not just yet my little dove” he whispers. You pout but decide to put your hands to better use and unbutton his shirt, revealing his strong chiseled chest. Max starts to breathe deeper from arousal as you unbuckle his belt and throw it to the floor. “I want to take my time with you” Max whispers “You’ve waited so long and I want this moment to be everything you deserve. I want to worship and pleasure you completely”.

Your pussy is now completely soaked, the faint squelches from your juices against your panties sounds in the background of Max kissing your neck. Maxwell is more preoccupied with taking his time in a combination of making up for lost time with you, giving you the best first time with him and making this moment last as long as possible. “Guide me” Max sighs between kisses, giving you his free hand. Holding it with both hands, you guide him down your neck and to your breasts. Max traces your breasts, flicking your nipples as he watches you whine with pleasure. Slowly he leans down and begins to suck on them, gently swirling his tongue and flicking. He kisses from one breast to the other, squeezing them in his hand. “Your body is perfect. Your skin is so soft.” he moans. By this time you’re rubbing your thighs together in an effort to stimulate your clit without your hands as they’re gripping Max’s dark blonde hair.

“Max, take off your pants” you pant, becoming overstimulated from all this teasing foreplay. He stands up off the bed and unzips his trousers, pulling them down to reveal his rock hard cock. “Oh Max” you moan, reaching down under your panties to touch yourself as his cock twitches. Max hurriedly crawls onto the bed and back up to your face, pulling your hand out of your panties. He brings your fingers close to his mouth and rubs them on his lips before bringing his tongue out to swirl around them, sucking your juices off them. “Touch me Max” you immediately whimper “I need your touch”. Max moans before kissing you passionately. As you both enjoy your tender kiss, Max traces his hand down your body, over your breasts, along your stomach and reaches the edge of your panties. Max reaches into your panties and gently places a finger at the top of your pussy, gently but firmly pressing down as he traces over your clit and down to your opening. Your wetness has coated every inch of your pussy. “You’re so wet” he pants, the sensation starts to send some beads of precum out the tip of his cock. “For you” you moan, writhing in pleasure at his calculated & lingering touch.

Looking deep into your eyes, Max rubs your folds slowly before he inserts two fingers gently but deep inside you. He begins to switch between a circling and a come hither motion on your g-spot, sending sparks shooting up through your body. You arch your back and let out a moan, while Max kisses your neck. “Oh Max baby that feels so good” you moan, gripping the sheets. “You feel amazing” Max sighs, brushing your hair out of your face so he can study your facial expressions as he pleasures you. Just when you thought it couldn’t feel any more amazing, Max places his thumb onto your clitoris, bringing you closer to climax in a matter of milliseconds. “Oh my god Max, Max I’m gonna cum” you moan into his neck, biting him. Max continues fingering you, intently watching your face waiting for you to reach orgasm.

Between Max’s fingering, his kisses and eye contact it doesn’t take long for it all to send you over the edge, riding into a full body orgasm, squirting all over Max’s hand. “You’re so beautiful baby” Max coos, holding your body close with his fingers still inside you as your back arches and your body trembles while you let out a long loud moan. Despite this exquisite display and sensation happening between your legs, Max keeps eye contact with you, peering deep into your soul, completely enamoured. As you start to come down from your orgasm, Max slowly removes his fingers and sucks them clean. “You taste incredible, so sweet baby” he moans, licking the squirt off his hand. As you begin to catch your breath, Max kisses down your body and reaches your pussy, where he begins to lap up the rest of your juices. Very gently, Max parts the puffy pussy lips covering your clit. He starts to lick in between the folds, avoiding your clit as it recovers from the intense orgasm. He travels down to your entrance where he sticks his tongue inside, tasting your juices inside you.

The hum from his moan as he eats you out relaxes you like a lullaby. Max then comes back up to your face, kissing your forehead. “That was incredible Max” you pant, staring up at the ceiling. He rests his lips against your neck, cupping your breast and gently squeezing it and thumbing your nipple. “Let me pleasure you Max, please” you beg, giving him a pleading gaze. Max obliges as you change positions with him now lying on his back. You cup his face with one hand, giving him a loving smile as his hand grabs yours. He starts to kiss you as your hands both guide down his chest, stomach and reach his groin. You begin to tease him, tracing your fingertips around the base of his cock, then up the shaft. Your light touches cause his cock to twitch. “Your touch is magical'' Max groans as your hand grips his shaft and travels up to his tip. His precum has soaked the head, giving you enough lubricant to slowly jerk your hand up and down, gripping tightly.

The sensation for Max is heavenly, panting and moaning between kissing your cheeks and forehead as you concentrate your gaze on his pulsing cock. Your jerking movements become more intense as you look up to see Max with his eyes closed, like he’s dreaming and if he opens them you’ll cease to exist. You continue to jerk him as you kiss his neck, feeling his cock harden even more and begin to pulse rapidly, like he’s getting close. “W-wait” Max whimpers. “I want this night to be about pleasuring you. Your mere presence pleasures me enough.” He kisses your hand & cups your cheek, looking deeply into your eyes. “What can I do to please you? Would you like t-to make love?”. Your heart bursts with emotion as this man is so set on pleasuring you so much. “Yes Max, I would love that very much” you sigh.

You lay back down on the bed, Max lying by your side. He begins to embrace you, running his hands over your body before kissing down your neck and chest as he rubs your clit. Max stops for a moment, studying your beautiful naked body. He then moves down and pushes your legs up, exposing your pussy. As you squeeze your breasts and look at his chiseled jaw, Max nervously lines up his cock before rubbing it on your clit, soaking the tip in your wetness. Impatient with how he’s teasing you, you whisper “Fuck me Maxwell”. Slowly, he pushes his cock down your clitoris and through your folds before the tip pushes inside. Without even being all the way inside, he moans “this must be what Heaven feels like”. With one gentle thrust, he’s completely inside, shuddering as your warm, tight, wet walls squeeze his cock shaft and tip. “Oh my god Max. You have no idea how long I’ve waited for this moment” you moan, as he starts to slowly thrust. “M-me too beautiful” he grunts, feeling pure ecstasy wash over him as your pussy tenses, massaging his twitching length. A few minutes go by of you both silently staring intensely into each other’s eyes, kissing passionately. With every thrust you begin to connect deeper to Max, your bodies intertwining on a physical, emotion and spiritual level. Max’s cock twitches inside you as he watches you moan and bite your lip, squeezing your breasts.

“I can’t believe you love a man, a man like me” Max says still in disbelief, watching your body motion up and down as he slowly strokes in and out of you. He studies your body intensely, watching the moonlight and shadows play across your curves as your breasts bounce with every thrust. “You’re so beautiful Hermosa”, his mother tongue now coming through “como una diosa, like, A-Aphrodité.” he sighs, cupping your face with both hands. You cover his hands with yours, interlocking your fingers, turning your face each way slightly to kiss his palms and stare back at him lovingly and seductively, feeling like you could float away. “Your Aphrodite” you sigh, arching back slightly in pleasure, gripping his hands to guide them down to your breasts for him to lovingly caress and fondle. In slight shock at your romantic response, he immediately leans down whilst thrusting and peppers kisses all over your lips, letting out a sniffle.

With his eyes closed, focusing on lasting to bring you pleasure and to hide his emotions, a few tears drop onto your cheeks as he continues to thrust, now grunting each time into your neck to cover up the small sobs. You kiss his cheek, to take his tears away, the saltiness turning into sweet nectar on your tongue. “It’s okay baby, you can be vulnerable with me, I will protect you. I love you”. You choke, now crying also. Both sharing a connection transcending physically, in that exact moment, without an increase in volume, the lyrics of the Bob Dylan song playing on the radio seem to stand out and ring true in this very moment;

Storm clouds are raging all around my door, I think to myself I might not take it any more. Take a woman like your kind, To find the man in me. But, oh, what a wonderful feeling, Just to know that you are near. Sets my a heart a-reeling, From my toes up to my ears...

Your foreheads now together, staring deeply into each other’s eyes, Max whimpers “I love you so much” as his whole body begins to tense, signalling he’s on the precipice of an orgasm. Feeling his cock become even harder as it thrusts into the deepest part of your pussy, slamming the extra nerves to unlock your powerful orgasm. “Oh my god Max I’m gonna cum” you moan, slamming your eyes shut as you begin to try and slow down so this moment can last forever. “Cum mi reina” Max pants, keeping the tempo of his thrusting steady as the waves of your orgasm reach its peak before crashing down & flooding your entire body. Your body arches and trembles as you scream “Oh Max!” while your pussy clamping down & releasing in pulses on Max’s cock. The sight of you orgasming tied with the sensation around his cock sends Max over the edge. “Cielo” Max groans, shuddering all over as his cock spurts thick ropes of cum against your sensitive cervix. You both share a passionate kiss as Max’s cock softens inside you. “That was amazing Max” you pant, your body weak from the two mind blowing orgasms Max gave you.

Max collapses on the bed beside you, kissing your neck and running his fingers through your hair. “I can’t wait for us to do that again” Max chuckles against your neck. You kiss Max’s forehead, sighing as your body still slightly shakes from the two powerful orgasms Max just gave you. “I think a shower is in order” He embraces you momentarily before scooping you up in his arms and carries you off the bed, walking towards the ensuite. “Are you ever gonna let me walk again?” You giggle, nestling into his neck. “I like feeling you be as close to me as possible” Max laughs, before your feet land back on the tiles inside the bathroom. Max turns on the water and you both step into the shower, the steam now filling the room. Max has an assortment of body washes and shampoos, ranging from musky to citrusy and floral scents. You step closer to Max as he takes some lavender body wash and begins to rub it down your back, his hands dancing over the rest of your body as he starts to wash you. “I know I keep saying this, but you are so beautiful” Max sighs, running his hands over your ass, grabbing a cheek in each hand. “You’re not too bad yourself, handsome” you giggle against Max’s neck.

You both spend at least an hour in the shower, washing each other, chatting and sharing a few more intimate moments. Soon, the wine from dinner, the warm shower water, the scent of lavender and your fatigue from your orgasms starts to take its toll and you feel your eyelids drooping. Max finishes washing you and grabs a towel to help you dry off with. As your eyelids close completely Max has already scooped you up and walked back to the bed, placing you in the middle before wrapping you up in blankets and placing a small kiss on your forehead. “Goodnight my love” he whispers. “Mmmm” you moan, already in a dream state. Max soon gets under the covers with you, embracing you tightly as he watches you sleep, twirling his fingers through your hair. The smell of lavender on your skin soon lulls Maxwell to sleep.

The next morning you wake up, dazed and a little hungover, but well rested. As you look around the room, you survey the many pieces of clothes, miscellaneous items and wine bottles strewn across the floor in a tornado of passion from the night before. As your eyes adjust to the sun, you see Max in an under-shirt and pyjama pants over by the dining table. Max, in his own little world, frantically setting the dining table with some breakfast Alfred had brought up while you were sound asleep. He’s making sure everything is laid out perfectly, straightening the cutlery and pouring Orange Juice and Champagne into a glass from the bar. He hears the cotton sheets move behind him, immediately turning around to see if you’re awake. “Good morning beautiful” Max hums, rushing over to the bed to pepper your cheeks and lips with hundreds of little kisses. “Morning handsome” you giggle, running your hands through Max’s hair, in an attempt to match your bed hair. “Are you hungry, mi amor?” he asks between kisses. “I’m famished” you reply, stretching to help you wake up more. As you writhe around in the sheets you notice you’re wearing a chiffon baby doll.

“I hope you don’t mind I uh, had it in the wardrobe & wasn’t sure if you liked to sleep naked so I put it on you just after you fell asleep.” Max laughs, scratching the back of his head. You blush, feeling embarrassed that you got that drunk, but Max’s reassuring smile makes you feel at ease. “I do usually sleep naked, but I like it, it makes me feel beautiful”. Max sighs “so beautiful”, wrapping you up in a tight embrace and planting a single kiss on your forehead. Max scoops you up and carries you out of bed before you lightly plant your feet onto the carpeted floor. As you glance over to the dining table, Max comes up behind you and helps you slip on a long beautiful chiffon robe, accented with feathers on the hem.

“Another little something for my beautiful mariposa” Max coos, kissing your cheek before pulling out your chair at the dining table. You feel like you’re walking on clouds as you step over to your chair and sit down, Max flapping a napkin onto your lap. “Oh my goodness Max you’re such a gentleman” you blush. “My mother taught me to show women the highest level of respect and care. She made me the man who I am today.” Max replies, looking out the window momentarily. You outstretch your arm across the table to squeeze Max’s hand “And she would be so proud of the man that you’ve become” you beam with a sweet smile. Max soon draws your attention to the diverse spread of pastries on the table, pointing out the different fillings of each and asks if you would like coffee. You nod before noticing a large bouquet of red roses in the middle of the table. As Max places a few pastries on your plate, you feel a sense of intense attraction wash over you like a wave.

Your internal monologue starts to read back to itself, reflecting on how loving, generous and respectful Max is towards you. How much he takes care of you and oh god, how handsome he looks…you start to feel aroused by this somewhat submissive gentleman, sensing a rising heat from your core. Max submitted to your every want and desire last night, raising you up and worshipping you like a goddess, now you wanted to submit to him. Knowing now that you can be vulnerable and honest around Max, you lean back in your chair, biting down on a blueberry pastry.

To be continued..... ;) muahahahaha

a special thanks to the users below for the inspiration and encouragment!

@pintsizemama @anaaaispunk @maxlordsgf @rav3n-pascal22, @pedrostories, @absurdthirst @pedrosbrat​

[newstfionline]

Friday, August 6, 2021

US plans to require COVID-19 shots for foreign travelers (AP) The Biden administration is taking the first steps toward requiring nearly all foreign visitors to the U.S. to be vaccinated for the coronavirus, a White House official said. The requirement would come as part of the administration’s phased approach to easing travel restrictions for foreign citizens to the country. No timeline has yet been determined, as interagency working groups study how and when to safely move toward resuming normal travel. Eventually all foreign citizens entering the country, with some limited exceptions, are expected to need to be vaccinated against COVID-19 to enter the U.S.

Big tech companies are at war with employees over remote work (Ars Technica) All across the United States, the leaders at large tech companies like Apple, Google, and Facebook are engaged in a delicate dance with thousands of employees who have recently become convinced that physically commuting to an office every day is an empty and unacceptable demand from their employers. The COVID-19 pandemic forced these companies to operate with mostly remote workforces for months straight. And since many of them are based in areas with relatively high vaccination rates, the calls to return to the physical office began to sound over the summer. But thousands of high-paid workers at these companies aren’t having it. Many of them don’t want to go back to the office full time, even if they’re willing to do so a few days a week. Workers are even pointing to how effective they were when fully remote and using that to question why they have to keep living in the expensive cities where these offices are located. Some tech leaders (like Twitter’s Jack Dorsey) agreed, or at least they saw the writing on the wall. They enacted permanent or semipermanent changes to their companies’ policies to make partial or even full-time remote work the norm. Others (like Apple’s Tim Cook) are working hard to find a way to get everyone back in their assigned seats as soon as is practical, despite organized resistance. In either case, the work cultures at tech companies that make everything from the iPhone to Google search are facing a major wave of transformation.

At least 10 dead as van carrying migrants crashes in Texas (AP) An overloaded van carrying 29 migrants crashed Wednesday on a remote South Texas highway, killing at least 10 people, including the driver, and injuring 20 others, authorities said. The crash happened shortly after 4 p.m. Wednesday on U.S. 281 in Encino, Texas, about 50 miles (80 kilometers) north of McAllen. A surge in migrants crossing the border illegally has brought about an uptick in the number of crashes involving vehicles jammed with migrants who pay large amounts to be smuggled into the country. The Dallas Morning News has reported that the recruitment of young drivers for the smuggling runs, combined with excessive speed and reckless driving by those youths, have led to horrific crashes.

Turkish wildfires are worst ever, Erdogan says, as power plant breached (Reuters) Turkey is battling the worst wildfires in its history, President Tayyip Erdogan said on Wednesday, as fires spread to a power station in the country’s southwest after reducing swathes of coastal forest to ashes. Fanned by high temperatures and a strong, dry wind, the fires have forced thousands of Turks and foreign tourists to flee homes and hotels near the Aegean and Mediterranean coasts. Eight people have died in the blazes since last week. Planes and dozens of helicopters have joined scores of emergency crews on the ground to battle the fires, but Erdogan’s government has faced criticism over the scale and speed of the response. In the last two weeks, fires in Turkey have burnt more than three times the area affected in an average year, a European fire agency said. Neighbouring countries have also battled blazes fanned by heatwaves and strong winds.

Sri Lanka’s financial problems (Foreign Policy) Sri Lanka is threatening to become South Asia’s economic weak link. It’s mired in a severe debt crisis, and its budget deficit exceeded 11 percent of GDP during the last fiscal year, which ended in March. The country’s foreign reserves can only pay for three months of imports, prompting Colombo to cut back on many foreign imports, including turmeric, a staple product. Fitch Ratings has warned default is a real possibility. Sri Lanka’s woes stem in great part from a floundering tourism sector. Tourism typically accounts for at least 5 percent of GDP, and some estimates even put the figure at 12.5 percent. The sector’s troubles began before the coronavirus pandemic, when suicide bombers killed at least 290 people in churches and hotels in April 2019, keeping visitors away. But the pandemic still dealt a giant blow. A 2021 assessment found tourist arrivals between January and April fell nearly 100 percent from the same period in 2020.

Australia to spend $813M to address Indigenous disadvantage (AP) Australia’s government on Thursday pledged 1.1 billion Australian dollars ($813 million) to address Indigenous disadvantage, including compensation to thousands of mixed-race children who were taken from their families over decades. The AU$378.6 million ($279.7 million) to be used to compensate the so-called Stolen Generations by 2026 is the most expensive component of the package aimed at boosting Indigenous living standards in Australia. Prime Minister Scott Morrison said the compensation was a recognition of the harm caused by forced removal of children from families.

Israel launches airstrikes on Lebanon in response to rockets (AP) Israel on Thursday escalated its response to rocket attacks this week by launching rare airstrikes on Lebanon, the army said. The army said in a statement that jets struck the launch sites from which rockets had been fired over the previous day, as well as an additional target used to attack Israel in the past. The IDF blamed the state of Lebanon for the shelling and warned “against further attempts to harm Israeli civilians and Israel’s sovereignty.” The overnight airstrikes were a marked escalation at a politically sensitive time. Israel’s new eight-party governing coalition is trying to keep peace under a fragile cease fire that ended an 11-day war with Hamas’ militant rulers in Gaza in May.

‘Winning a medal doesn’t make him Jewish’ (Washington Post) When gymnast Artem Dolgopyat stepped off the podium as only the second Israeli to win an Olympic gold medal, he triggered one of Israel’s many cultural tripwires: It quickly emerged that the country’s newest sports hero is banned from marrying his fiancee here because he is not considered Jewish enough by the rabbis who control Israel’s marriage law. Immediately after Dolgopyat took top honors in the men’s floor exercise, his mother took the chance to complain that Israeli religious law is keeping her engaged 24-year-old son from tying the knot because only his father’s side of the family is Jewish. Marriage law is tightly controlled by Israel’s Chief Rabbinate. And for generations, couples who are of mixed religions—or who are atheists, gay or inadequately Jewish—have been forced to marry outside the country. Dolgopyat’s training schedule has made that impossible, said his mother, Angela Bilan. “I want grandchildren,” Bilan said Sunday in an interview with Israeli radio.

Talking to strangers (Atlantic) A hefty body of research has found that an overwhelmingly strong predictor of happiness and well-being is the quality of a person’s social relationships. But most of those studies have looked at only close ties: family, friends, co-workers. In the past decade and a half, professors have begun to wonder if interacting with strangers could be good for us too: not as a replacement for close relationships, but as a complement to them. The results of that research have been striking. Again and again, studies have shown that talking with strangers can make us happier, more connected to our communities, mentally sharper, healthier, less lonely, and more trustful and optimistic.

But tanks make such handy snowplows... (BBC) A German retiree was fined nearly $300,000 by local authorities on Tuesday following the discovery of a World War-II era tank in his basement along with other items of the period, including a flak cannon and multiple machine guns. The Panther tank was removed from the man’s property in 2015, a job that took 20 soldiers almost nine hours to complete. The unnamed 84-year-old might have been able to hold on to his tank and the rest of his collection—which must now be donated to a museum within two years, according to Tuesday’s ruling—had he kept it a better secret. “He was chugging around in that thing during the snow catastrophe in 1978,” Heikendorf Mayor Alexander Orth told reporters.

[thepriceofbeingaroseisloneliness]

The Freedom of Expression #4   18th March (Notes/Translation)

“The survival of the band….it may be exaggerated to say ‘the survival’.... but these will be difficult times...”

Appearance:

 Kaoru (DIR EN GREY direngrey.co.jp/)

 Joe Yokomizo (Writer / DJ)

 Tasai Reporter (Tokyo Sports)

 God ?

You can watch the program here  You can find other translation of The Freedom of Expression here

Notes before reading: This is the 4th program of The Freedom of Expression, uploaded on Wednesday 18th.  Today’s topic is Corona virus and it was recorded on 10th March. Not much context is needed as at this point, we are all familiar with it and are aware of the effects it is causing around the world.  In this program, they are going to talk about Corona virus and how it is affecting Entertainment industry in general and how it is affecting Dir en grey tour schedule itself.

Please don’t forget to subscribe to their channel and watch their actual video to support the program.

Feel free to correct me if you spot any mistake or any confusing parts as they are talking so casually and relaxed that it’s hard to get some parts.  As 5th program is like a sequel of this one, I will  upload soon  before doing any other. --- Kaoru: Hello, this is Kaoru from Dir en grey…The Freedom of Expression is starting today too! Joe-san…. Tasai-san…. Joe: Yes, hello everyone…. Kaoru: This time too…. Tasai: Yes, hello… Kaoru:  And now… it’s really… Joe: Yeah…for real… Kaoru: It has become a terrible thing… Joe: It’s terrible….in the media it seems like that… when you meet people from the industry like us, the talks are about “how are you dealing with the effects of Corona?”, right? Kaoru: That’s true… Joe: Although the days are passing, there is no day without having this conversation…. Kaoru: What about Tokyo Sports? Tasai: Well, almost all the news are about Corona virus… Joe: Just as I thought… Kaoru: Well, it’s like that in almost every other media, right? Tasai: Now, it feels like 80-90% is about Corona…. Entertainment events are getting cancelled one after another….so it feels like places to go for coverage are gone…. Kaoru: Ah, that’s true… Joe:  Is there any way to cut the news about Corona for Tokyo Sports? Tasai: The truth is, a lot of news about Corona are coming out…. like for example these ones…. *he check some papers on the table* Fraud commercial laws, “the virus lies in the sewer”, others about taking money, young entertainers not having any performances, so they are making zero money, the problem of people reselling masks, There are lots of news like this coming out…. Joe: This is a very difficult problem…. God: Hello? Hello? Joe: Ah, someone came…. God: Hello? Hello? Joe: God came… God: Well…When you write articles about Corona, does it sell well? Tasai: Well…. when it comes to selling…. it’s difficult to say. As the economic activities seem to be stagnant, when it comes to selling, I guess it will compensate the minus. It might feel like maintaining the status quo. God: Ah… Kaoru: It’s because you want information, right? Tasai: That’s it. Kaoru: That’s it. Somehow some information…. (cut) There is a lot of information that incites anxiety… Joe: That’s true. There is a lot…...I really think that. Kaoru: Of course, taking precautions….or to encourage to do so… or it’s dangerous to go like this…I don’t know.... but, I want to know that kind of things because I think they are important….or things like the (number) of people who are getting well is raising… Tasai: For sure… Kaoru: That there is nothing like that, it’s a bit….it just make you be scared… Joe: For real… For me, in a way it’s related to work…. for example, I met with newspaper’s reporters related to science and they told me they have been interviewing experts. By the way, nowadays, the coverage is done in a such a  tabloids way  style…..how many people got infected…that there is no toilet paper….I’m just saying that those things fuels anxiety…In fact, from the point of view of a doctor…they are not reporting with composure to what extend there is a threat… *Then he proceeds to talk about Corona virus facts* Joe: Firs of all, Corona virus is a type of virus that infects all kinds of animals. From this group of viruses, there are 7 types that can infect humans, one of them it’s the current Corona Virus. There are other types such as SARS and MERS, so the Corona virus itself has always been around…this one from these 7 types is a new one whose shape  is similar to a Corona, that’s why it always has been called “Corona virus”. Certainly, the fear towards this virus is comparable to SARS or MERS, but if you calmly look down at it, the mortality rate is not that high. At this moment, it is true that around the world there are people infected and some of them are seriously ill but, there isn’t a terrible amount of deaths…For example, there was a new type of influenza epidemic in 2009 in Japan. In this one, for example, more than 10 million people got infected. So, about this new Corona virus…to that extend, when you think about a situation that not the infected people are being reported but the only thing that it’s being reported now is clearly news that make everyone panic.  This is how I see it…If you overlook this news, as there is little information from a scientific point of view, it feels like the reports tend to “dance” for agitation. Surprisingly, when I met a science reporter, they are like “Aren’t they making a fuss?” There are actually many reporters that are doing it calmly. Because you are rightfully scared isn’t it? But there are many reporters overdoing the feelings of fear. God: Well…It’s excessive…. Too much…it’s said that Corona beer is hardly selling… Joe: It’s a different Corona isn’t it? (laughs) God: It’s a different thing but it seems that it’s not selling well…. Joe: Ah, is that so? God: I think they are like “I hate drinking Corona beer”, due to the current mood. Tasai: It suits well Mexican food…. Corona beer… Joe: By the way, Does God like Corona beer? God: I don’t really know (laughs) Everyone laughs. Joe: He really doesn’t know right?

Tasai: I asked a friend who is a doctor, and the most preventive things are to wash your hands and gargling. These are the cheapest methods in terms of cost…. just to wash your hands without hesitation and gargle…

Kaoru: This year, it seems that influenza (cases) are at its lowest.…

Joe: That’s true. That’s because everyone is strictly washing their hands and gargling…. when it comes to masks, WHO already said it but, they don’t necessarily prevent infection, on the contrary, people who are sick don’t transmit the bacteria. Although it might a protection thing, just because you are wearing a mask it doesn’t mean you won’t be infected. This extraordinary buying of them…what about that?

Tasai: Then, Hirabane Monster* is like “I never have caught a cold since I was born!” *Hirobane Monster was mentioned in program #1

Joe: That’s probably because he is an idiot, right? (laughs)

Kaoru laughs

Joe: Because he is an idiot (laughs)

Tasai: He said that’s why it’s ok to not wear a mask…

Joe burst into laughs, Kaoru joins seconds later (6:50, the way he laughs) lol

Tasai: As this is something important…. this way of thinking….

Kaoru: Surely

Joe starts talking about the lives being cancelled and then asks Kaoru about it. Kaoru replies that live houses are now a bad “thing” (In venues, there are a lot of people crowded, which helps the virus to spread) Joe replies that other places are like that too and he mentions Yamanote line and the subway itself as well as parties and those places are still ok. It seems asthere were some cases reported after a concert, the measures were taken against live houses. Joe says this is “such a Japanese thing” to be done, as one thing happened, they applied it to all the rest. Kaoru: Now, at the time of recording this, we still don’t know if we should do something or not… (about Dir’s tour) Even if we do something about or not, as expected, there are some lives that will be reassigned… Tasai: I see… Kaoru: If you think a bit about this, it’s scary right? What’s the best thing to do? Joe: That’s true… something like this…. it’s not a problem that only musicians have to think about… Kaoru: it is not, right? Tasai: That’s true Joe: In the sports world…. the Japanese league (football) and baseball professionals league…Those two (tops) talked to each other, trying to find a solution. It is said that their relationship is like cats and dogs, but sometimes these two genres (of sports) cross and talk to each other. In that aspect, it’s not just music but includes all kinds of entertainment. This time, they have to think about 2 or 3 possible scenarios…. they have to think about a strategy. Tasai: I don’t know about this but, if a live is cancelled, who bears the costs of it? Kaoru: We pay for it… Joe: The organizer… Kaoru: It’s the organizer, right? Tasai: I see. Joe: Most one-man tours are organized by the artist. So that must be covered by the artist. As it is done that way, when you especially play in a big venue, the venue fee is very expensive. Of course, there are other cost besides the venue, in some cases you make stage-sets. Those make the cost go up really fast. If it is a big venue, like a dome or such, it can cost millions of yens. These costs go by the artist. When it’s a tour, as there are many places, it can end in the bankruptcy of privately-owned companies. It’s really a terrible problem. Tokyo Jihen did several lives and got a lot of criticism for it…should people be that angry at them because they did the concerts? Kaoru: Well, I understand the feelings of that people but, even if you go and decide to do a live or an event, the damage is going to be high.  I think people will hesitate about buying a ticket or not and with that happening, it feels really hard for us. Joe: That’s true… Kaoru: That’s how it looks right? Somehow, it feels like you are going in the wrong direction…. Joe: I see, even if the bans are just suddenly lifted, it’s hard to imagine people coming back to the venues the next day… Kaoru: After all, it’s going to be difficult to go again… Joe: For sure! Tasai: After  these things done for prevention, we must think about everyone… Kaoru: Yes, yes…. that’s it. God: If the tour and other things are skipped…. How many tours do you do? Kaoru: We do about two per year in Japan…. God: So, if one of those two tours is gone, the incoming money you would be getting… it would be the half of it? Kaoru: It would be the half……(sudden cut) Joe: It’s not the half of it, because you would be dealing with losses….you can’t easily say how it is going to be.... Kaoru: Or just foccuss in the  money…of course, that’s about it too… Joe: It’s a very difficult problem…. God: For example, if there is a big loss (of income), what would happen to the band? Kaoru: I think it will be hard….it would probably be hard….we are living in a time where the sales of cds or other sound sources are decreasing…doing lives… the sales of some things are related to them too and as expected those sales seem to be decreasing too….if all that is gone….the survival of the band….it may be exaggerated to say “the survival” but it is going to be hard…. Joe: I think it’s going to be a tough time but, there is no government actions against that… Kaoru: There is nothing like that right now….well, at this point, we should be moving into the next part...Today’s program came out a bit of a sudden*, so here it’s the first part....until the next part....please subscribe to the channel. Everyone: Thank you for watching.... *This program was uploaded on a wednesday instead of its regular schedule on Fridays, second part was uploaded on Friday 20th, being a continuation of this program.

[verycleverboy]

Another anti-mask shithead screws up everyone else’s week on the Hill 

Rep. Louie Gohmert (R-TX) has tested positive for coronavirus after refusing to wear a mask while in the Capitol.

The lawmaker was set to travel with President Donald Trump to Texas Wednesday, but his positive result was caught in the pre-screening process. Gohmert said last month that he would not wear a mask around the Capitol because he was being regularly tested for the virus.

“[I]f I get it,” he told CNN in June, “you’ll never see me without a mask.”

Gohmert, who was in attendance at Tuesday’s House Judiciary Committee hearing with Attorney General William Barr, is the seventh representative to contract the virus. He was spotted without a mask on Tuesday speaking with Barr within an arm’s length prior to the hearing. Barr will be tested today for coronavirus following Gohmert’s positive result.

Following his positive test result, Gohmert didn’t immediately isolate and self-quarantine, as health experts advise. He reportedly returned to his office, saying he wanted to inform his staffers of the test result in person rather than having them learn from news reports. Several staffers were already in the process of leaving by the time he arrived.[...]

He is one of a cluster of Republican members of Congress who have refused to wear masks, despite party leaders including Sens. Mitch McConnell (R-KY) and Marco Rubio (R-FL) wearing them around the Capitol. Several Republican representatives were chastised during the Barr hearing Tuesday for not wearing masks in the hearing room.

Okay, my turn:

According to Fox News, Gohmert (who they very gingerly state “has been prone not to wear a mask around Capitol Hill “, and not the more accurate “has been prone to be a belligerent asshole when questioned on the topic”) was scheduled to be on Air Force One today with President Trump for another campaign fundraising fund.

At 66, Gohmert is inside the red-alert age bracket where the mortality rate has always been a little bit higher. He’s also a Texas Republican, a group which helped found the GOP Death Cult that has openly suggested more of us should be willing to die so that others can start making money again. 

When the House Democrats proposed proxy voting in May to cut down on the infection risk among members, Gohmert’s bellicose response from the House floor was a mix of Constitutional originalism and “come on, don’t be a pussy” chest thumping, invoking (of course) the pandemic economy while doing so. So on that level, you can say that he literally asked for this.

And then there’s the Trump-led “magical thinking” wing of the party, the idea that wishing can just make all of this go away overnight. Gohmert definitely earned his stripes as an early member of that movement during a live TV interview in April where he plugged a “magic powder” he claimed was being used in Germany, one which allegedly killed the coronavirus on contact and keeps killing it for up to 14 days. You walk through a tent misted in this stuff and boom, invincibility!

There were a few problems with this story, the first being that when PolitiFact pressed Gohmert for even the most basic details about what the hell he was talking about, he didn’t answer their calls. 

The second was that this “Germany” place he said it came from? Turns out it’s a real country with people who can confirm or deny bullshit fairy tales.  Dr. Jörn Wegner, a spokesman for Deutsche Krankenhausgesellschaft, or the German Hospital Association, didn’t waste words: "What your congressman said is absolute nonsense. There are no such tents and there’s no powder or magical cure." But you know how it is. Anything is possible in your imagination. Just don’t try to requisition a fantasy from a medical supply company.

In spite of all of the above, here’s hoping that Gohmert makes it through this. And here’s hoping that he gets sent home at the end of his current term so the folks back home can give him shit about what type of magic powder he was on when he came up with that yarn.

Also added to the infected column in the past week: Trump national security adviser Robert O’Brien. Trump claimed on Monday to have not seen him lately, which, all things considered, is one of the few things he’s ever said that I can believe without hesitation.

[aphrodites-law]

A Bit of Clarity 🍂 (2/?) The visions had started last autumn, a year ago now. It had caused a bit of chaos for some, a bit of clarity for others. Two days ago, Clarke Griffin had been perfectly fine managing both her Café and her stress. But now she was curious - so deeply curious about the vision of herself entwined with the aloof Lexa Woods that it was leading her to complete distraction.

[part 1]

The next Monday, Clarke waited for the deliveries as usual, quietly sipping on coffee while dawn barely made its appearance outside. It was getting colder and darker each week, but the holidays were Clarke's favorite time of the year and they were now fast approaching. She spotted the delivery truck and called out for Wells who came from the kitchen yawning. They were making pumpkin cheesecake today, not Clarke's favorite but one of their first big successes last year. Clarke couldn't believe they had already passed the café's first anniversary.

"Remind me why we do deliveries in the middle of the night on Mondays?" Wells asked while the Croft & Daughters delivery truck pulled up.

Clarke waved at the driver. "Because Niylah's the only one willing to work within our bite-sized budget."

Wells rubbed his eyes. "Right."

"You didn't need to come this early."

"Yes I did. Cheesecake needs to be in the fridge in less than an hour."

"I could've made it."

Wells shook his head. "You suck at anything pumpkin."

"Take that back."

"Morning!" Niylah called out while she opened the back of the truck. Clarke playfully elbowed Wells before approaching her.

Despite his sleepiness, Wells insisted on carrying most of the boxes in while Clarke signed off on Niylah's delivery list. When all business matters were said and done, Clarke offered her a cup of coffee before she hit the road on her usual delivery route. Though it didn't matter how early it was, because Niylah never showed any sign of fatigue. Clarke knew it was ingrained in the Croft family since childhood to be morning creatures.

"Long route today?" She asked while Niylah finished her last sip. Wells had slunk back into the kitchen to get started on the cheesecake and their first batch of croissants. It was by far Clarke's favorite time in the café - when the baking smells would take over just as the sun slowly rose outside. There was nothing like it.

"Not very long," Niylah answered with a shrug. She buttoned up her coat and breathed in deeply when they stepped outside.

Clarke rubbed her arms up and down, feeling a chill. "Look out for the frost."

 "Always." Niylah smiled but made no move to leave. "So…"

Clarke arched a brow, having a good feeling what was coming. "So?"

"The Polis Hotel is having a public event this Friday. Open lounge with drinks and food half-off, some great live music."

"Oh yeah?"

"I was wondering if maybe you'd want to check it out."

"The Polis Hotel, huh? That's pretty swanky."

"I think it might be the only time I'd ever be allowed inside," Niylah agreed.

The Polis Hotel was famously upscale, but the building itself had a long history and Clarke always appreciated its architecture whenever she passed it. It could be interesting to step inside for once.

"To be clear, you are asking me out at the crack of dawn?"

"What better time than a freezing Monday morning after I've delivered your goods?"

"My goods," Clarke repeated with a laugh. "You're a regular charmer."

"We can go someplace else - something casual."

Clarke remembered this game - knew what 'something casual' meant too well. They'd get drinks and get pleasantly buzzed and then she would wake up in Niylah's bed the next morning wondering why they were risking both a friendship and business relationship for something that never led anywhere else. This date would be no different, but Niylah was good company and it felt nice to be wanted, even if it was just for a night once or twice a month.

"No it sounds like fun, let's do it. Let's be swanky."

She ignored the way Niylah smiled, maybe more excited than Clarke had ever noticed before.

* * *

The next day, Clarke was on her short lunch break when she passed an art and supply store and lingered outside. She knew people, mostly students, came here to load up on paints, pencils and canvases, but she'd never given it a second thought before. What she did - passing the time with scribbles - wasn't art. Sure she'd had other dreams in college - and her portfolio was still somewhere in her apartment, though collecting dust bunnies by now - but the café had eaten them up and Clarke wasn't too brokenhearted about it. Dreams changed. It was just nostalgia for powdered pigments beneath her fingernails or charcoal stains on the palm of her hand. Shaking her head, she eventually left.  

She went through the back of the café and took her coat and scarf off in the small storage room by the kitchen. Their part-timer, Harper, was behind the counter taking an order, but there was a bit of an afternoon lull. She noticed that Lexa had come in and that Gaia was standing by her table and talking animatedly. Lexa, with her computer open and a sprawl of papers on the table, seemed to be taking quick notes, sometimes interrupting with a question. Clarke stayed behind the counter and glanced over a few times, curious to know what they were talking about. Eventually Gaia walked back toward the counter.

Clarke gave her a questioning smile. "Everything good?"

"Oh yeah, just had a quick chat about visions," Gaia replied as she took off her apron and went out back, ready for her own break.

Clarke frowned to herself, then grabbed a few of the plates in the sink to wash while Harper made their last customer's latte.  

"Hi, Clarke."

She turned around almost immediately, so surprised by the sound of that voice saying her name. She couldn't remember Lexa ever saying it before.

"Lexa. Hi. Can I get you anything?"

"Oh no, thank you." Lexa toyed with her phone. "This might seem completely out of the blue, but… would you agree to an interview with me?"

"An interview? About what?"

"I'm writing an article on the visions people had in Costial. Trying to find connections. I'm interviewing as many people as possible - all ages, professions, that sort of thing. Have you had one?"

Clarke felt herself panic. She looked away, pretending to look for- something. "Um. Sort of."

"Sort of?"

"I mean, yes," Clarke stammered, glancing toward the kitchen. "I have."

Lexa stepped closer to the counter, pulling up the calendar on her phone. "Would you be open to talking about it? My schedule's wide open this week, I could drop in-"  

Clarke's heart lurched. "I don't think so," she blurted out.

It felt like an eternity before she heard Lexa exhale, like she'd been holding her breath for a long time before. "Oh."

"I'm sorry," Clarke said, her hand clinging tight to the bottom of her apron.  

Lexa put her phone away. "That's fine."

Lexa looked just as awkward as Clarke felt, clearly embarrassed by the rejection. Clarke didn't know how to make her understand that it would only make both of them incredibly uncomfortable.

"It's just very personal," she tried.

Lexa nodded quickly. "Sure." She looked at her watch and cleared her throat. "Hm, I'll be on my way then. Big deadline this Wednesday."

She gathered her laptop and purse while Clarke thought desperately to think of something to say. Anything, damnit!

"Can I get you a slice of the cheesecake?" She offered. "On the house."

"Maybe another time, but thank you."

Clarke watched Lexa put her papers away in her satchel with the sinking feeling that she was burning down a bridge. She felt both confused and frustrated. Couldn't she have had a vision of herself adopting a dog or sleeping on some beach? At least she would've gotten more out of it than a headache and a number of unanswerable questions. It was lucky Gaia had left before she could overhear. Clarke wasn't certain she'd be able to keep the truth from her or Wells, and she definitely wasn't ready to discuss it.

Lexa put on her blazer and then approached her again. "I hope I didn't make you uncomfortable," she said apologetically.

It surprised Clarke that she even asked. She quickly shook her head. "No, not at all. Like I said, it's just-"

"Please, you don't owe me an explanation," Lexa assured her. "I was excited that Gaia agreed and got ahead of myself."

"I'm really sorry I can't be of any help."

Lexa shrugged, but a thought suddenly occurred to Clarke. She glanced at the cork board they had up on one of the café walls, where customers could pin their flyers.

"You could put up an ad there if you wanted," she told her.

Lexa turned to look at the wall and the various flyers. "I hadn’t thought of that."

Clarke didn't know why she felt so relieved she could finally be helpful to Lexa. "I know it doesn't seem like much but it attracts a lot of eyeballs every day. People really like the theater discounts we put up."

That had been the first deal she'd pulled off with one of the many local theaters. People at the café had incentive to see lesser-known plays at a discounted rate, while people at the theater were given vouchers for a free croissant with the purchase of a cup of coffee. The traffic from the afternoon shows in particular was well worth it, and the partnership had been going on for five months now.

The mention of the theater seemed to pique Lexa's interest. "Oh do- do you go to the theater a lot?"

"Wells, our baker, has season tickets, but I can't really find the time. Or it'll be sold out if I think of something. That's kinda how it goes when you live in the theater city of the country."

Lexa nodded in understanding. "I might put an ad together then. I've been having a difficult time-" she stopped herself. "People are very protective of the way their visions are transcribed."

Maybe they've just seen themselves sleep with you too, Clarke thought. "I'm sure many would be happy to have them in your writing."

Lexa rubbed the back of her neck. "Thank you, Clarke."

"Of course."

* * *

Clarke rarely drove east to the financial district, but the Organic Foods there was the only store that carried the obscure brand of honey Wells liked the best for their honey cakes. She went during her lunch break on Thursday, eager to avoid the evening rush hour. It was drizzling today, but Clarke didn't mind capricious weather so long as she got the product her baker and her customers enjoyed the most.

She was feeling antsy, unsure about her date with Niylah the following day. It wasn't anything uncommon for them, but this time seemed different. Clarke couldn't help but feel it had to do with her vision, which… she definitely hadn’t shared with Niylah. It wasn't just the tattoo that was missing, but the way their bodies had locked and the sweet sound of the whisper Clarke couldn't forget.

She shopped in the store with purpose, knowing exactly where to push her cart. She grabbed ten pots of honey total and made her way back to checkout, eyeing the cheese aisle on the way. Their Roquefort sure was overpriced but damn was it good. One time Wells and his girlfriend Raven had invited her over for dinner and graced her taste buds with the best Roquefort and pear salad she'd ever had. Her effort to recreate it on her own had been a soggy calamity.

"Clarke?"

She turned her head, her entire body locking at the sight of Finn Collins. His hair was slicked back with what Clarke assumed was an entire pot of gel, but it was his pretentious black suit that made him stick out like a sore thumb.

"Finn," she responded, though made no effort to color her tone with any warmth.

He approached her with a smile. "I'm surprised to see you here. You hate the East bank."

Clarke kept her hands on her cart, grateful that it was between them. "I don't hate the East bank. I just don't have ten dollars to spend on a loaf of bread."

"That's a stretch, but you've always been good at that."

"Can I help you?" She gritted her teeth.

He chuckled. "Calm down. I'm just messing around."

"And you're good at that, aren’t you?"

Finn's smile turned into a tightening of his jaw while he looked around, as if to make sure no one had heard.

"Don't worry, your father's constituents aren’t listening. I doubt they even do it at public events."

"They were very eager to listen today when I came in with my business proposals."

Clarke paused, remembering what Gaia had told her about Finn's expansion plans. She'd never mentioned him approaching chains though, let alone Organic Foods. "Do they know they'd be buying flash-frozen factory products?"

"My stores bake fresh daily and on the spot, Clarke. Why don't you come down one day and try our Elmond location? I'll even show you the kitchens. I have to say - it's a genius spot. The proximity to the college alone is driving demand through the roof. I'm already pitching a breakfast sandwich to investors."

He was trying to goad and if Clarke didn't know his tactics so well - bitterly well - it would have been easy to fall into it. She pushed her cart past him, taking some satisfaction in the way he jolted when a wheel rolled over the tip of his foot. Sometimes actions were better than words.

* * *

Clarke spent most of the evening picking out her date outfit for the next day, knowing she wouldn't have time in the morning, let alone after rushing from the café to pick Niylah up. It seemed like it would be relatively casual if the event was open to the public, but rocking her jeans and leather jacket didn't feel right. She settled on a black number and some strappy heels, mostly to not be a head shorter than Niylah who liked to wear heels whenever she could get out of her work boots.

The day of, Clarke was slightly absentminded. When Lexa walked in, this time at her regular 8am, Clarke found it hard not to focus on her. She was wearing a dark green sweater today, with the collar of a flannel peaking out as usual, and her hair in a single braid. It was exactly how Clarke expected Lexa to look, and yet each time she walked in felt like the first.

"Good morning," Lexa said as she approached the counter.

Clarke smiled. "Morning. What will it be today?"

Lexa scanned the display glass, swallowing when she spotted the basket of croissants. They were still warm, but Clarke knew Lexa didn't indulge every time she came.

"I'll just have a regular coffee, please."

Clarke nodded and grabbed one of the mugs, but as she poured the coffee she couldn't help but prolong the moment. "Sure I can't tempt you?" She asked, glancing at the basket.

Lexa hesitated before she smiled. "Maybe you can."

It was the first - the first time Lexa had smiled at her and Clarke felt her heart skip a beat. It was barely a quirk at the corner of her mouth, but it was there and it was hers. Clarke couldn't think of a better smile.

"On the house."

"What? No-"

Clarke set down her cup of coffee. “For the slice of cheesecake you turned down.”

“Well… if you insist.”

Clarke put the croissant on a plate with a napkin. “I do.”

Lexa paid in cash as usual, dropping the change in the tip jar. She picked up the plate but didn’t make a move otherwise, clearly hesitant to say something.

“Was there something el-”

“I have a spare ticket to this play,“ Lexa finally dropped. "A comedy my cousin wrote. Opening night, but everyone I know already has tickets."

Clarke waited with bated breath, just as nervous as Lexa seemed. A part of her just wanted to ask Lexa if she felt the same undercurrent of frustration between them, like a growing pile of things left unsaid. It was true for Clarke of course, but that truth would only drive Lexa away.

"I thought - based on what you said, that maybe if the opportunity presented itself… you might be interested in going?”

Still taken aback and completely unprepared, Clarke's first instinct was to deflect. “Writing runs in the family?” She asked.

Lexa nodded. “Just the two of us. Woods are usually in health or politics, so it’s brought us closer.”

Clarke wondered if that meant Lexa didn’t get along with the rest of her family. “When’s the play?”

“Tonight, 7pm,” Lexa grimaced. “Very short notice, I know. But there'll be an after-party with free food and drinks. Obviously you could bail on that - my cousin's friends can be a handful. He's an incredible writer though. It should be a fun play."

A night out to a new play, free food, interesting company - it sounded tempting enough that Clarke considered stepping aside to call Niylah and cancel their plans, but that wasn't fair to her.

“That’s really sweet of you to offer... I already have plans tonight though, I’m sorry.”

Lexa seemed to deflate like a balloon, but recovered quickly. “No need to apologize. This was ridiculously last minute.”

Clarke realized it was the second time she was turning her down. She hoped Lexa didn't start to think it was on purpose. “Another time maybe?" She suggested hopefully.

“I’d like that.”

That had to mean something, though Clarke wasn't sure what.

She picked Niylah up at her apartment at 9pm sharp, having the advantage of being closer to downtown. She lived in a two-bedroom on the second floor of the building, which her family had owned for four generations now. Clarke liked the Croft family, but she couldn't imagine ever living so close to her own. She loved both her parents, and they'd been nothing but supportive in the past hectic years, but they were a good three-hour drive away and frankly that was fine. Once, her mother had nearly given her a heart attack when she'd re-organized the café's financial records without consulting her and Clarke could only take such misguided initiatives in small doses.

Niylah wore a white top beneath a dark blue blazer and its matching pants, cutting quite the figure with the addition of her heels. It was hard to believe the woman drove a delivery truck as a job, but Niylah was surprising in her own right. She kissed Clarke's cheek while they waited for their Lyft, both knowing the night would not end in anyone being remotely sober enough to drive.

"Have you ever been inside?" Niylah asked her on the way to the hotel.

Clarke shook her head. "Are you kidding? They'd throw me in the dumpster on sight."

Niylah laughed. "They're not the Ritz."

"Oh, not because of the clothes."

"Finn?" Niylah asked.

Clarke's mood soured. She hadn’t forgotten their last encounter. "Can we not?"

"Sure."

Clarke sighed and took her hand. "Let's just have a good time."

Niylah looked at her lips and smirked. "I plan to."

The Polis Hotel was a historic landmark of the city, built over a hundred years ago and with the original stones to prove it. It had the looks of both a mansion and a small castle, a sort of majestic giant sat on a very slight hill. It wasn't a surprise to see a line of smartly dressed people outside, but when Niylah guided her past the line and straight toward the busy entrance, Clarke figured she'd kept something from her.

"Niylah, you said this was a public event."

"If you managed to snag tickets," Niylah shrugged. "My dad got them for free after he did a couple last-minute deliveries for them."

Clarke tugged on her arm. "You could’ve opened with that."

"You would've insisted I give them to someone else."

Clarke looked everywhere, impressed by the buzz. "This looks like a big deal."

Niylah showed their tickets, which got torn before another person stamped the back of their hands with the elegant logo of the Polis Hotel.

"It's promo for a play," Niylah remembered. "Nowhere Ground or something? The owner's son is the playwright. It's gotten a lot of buzz."

When they stepped inside, Clarke felt a thrill. There was something exciting about being a part of something exclusive and it was clear the hotel intended on giving its guests for the night a good time. Ushered down the hall, Clarke realized quickly that the crowd was spread out in two connected rooms, both rooms seemingly large enough to host balls. Back when it had been built, they likely did.

The first room was packed, with the bulk of the crowd by the bars and others in the seated area where food could be ordered. They were the ones closest to the stage, where a band was already playing loud 1920s inspired music. Clarke only caught a glance of the second room for now, a sort of game room with the allure of a casino. There were pool tables and table games already quite busy; blackjack and poker games well under way. Clarke figured this room had more actual guests of the hotel, though it didn't seem discouraged for anyone here for the live music to partake in them. She vaguely remembered the Polis Hotel having a gambling license, but she'd hardly expected a whole floor of it.

It was certainly a change of scenery; a world Clarke was interested in experiencing tonight but rather happy not being a part of any longer than that. She could tell Niylah was absolutely fascinated by it all, and it was easy to get swept up.

"Do you think they might retroactively throw a soirée like this for the café's opening?" Niylah asked.

Clarke stayed close to her as they made their way toward the bar. "Maybe for the tenth anniversary."

They started off the night with two Old Fashioned cocktails, eventually seated by a waiter in a '20s costume a few tables from the stage. Clarke had to strain her ears to hear Niylah, who tried very hard to talk above the volume.

"Are you trying the Charleston tonight?"

Clarke laughed. "Not a chance in hell!"

True to her word Clarke didn't attempt anything too far outside of her comfort zone, but they did make their way to the dance floor eventually where they fell into a rhythm that was all too familiar. She didn't mind when Niylah's hands went to her hips, and she didn't mind when their bodies loosened further through the night, especially after a quick bite and their third cocktail. When she felt her lips by her neck, however, Clarke knew that something was off. She pulled back and smiled, squeezing Niylah’s hand.

"I'm going to get some water," she said. "Want anything?"

Niylah shook her head, likely understanding Clarke needed a break. Clarke managed to get a glass of water at the bar and made her way through the crowd, feeling suddenly overwhelmed. She found herself by the second room, which had become busier since she'd peeked into it two hours ago but was still considerably less crowded than the stage room. She lingered in the back, slowly sipping on her water while she thought about Niylah and how it felt like they were on two different pages, clumsily trying to find their way back to each other.

There was a group in the furthest corner that Clarke guessed had to be some of the actors from the play. They were exceptionally attractive, with their '20s hairdos still in place and some remnants of makeup.

But it wasn't an actress that made Clarke hold her breath. She could hardly even believe it when she saw Lexa sitting at the table, with her thick hair loose and swept to one side and the sleeves of a dark grey flannel rolled up to her forearms. The dots connected immediately. Lexa was grinning like she was about to win the lottery, and when she put down what must've been an exceptional hand, she might as well have. Her group erupted into a mix of cheers on one side and groans of protests on the other, but the dominant sound was laughter. Lexa high-fived who Clarke assumed was her cousin, the playwright, before grabbing her drink and tipping it back. Her cousin squeezed her shoulder, obviously proud that she had brought them to victory. She didn't seem drunk but was clearly tipsy, smiling lazily while a dark-haired woman whispered something in her ear.

A feeling of complete irrational jealousy settled in the pit of Clarke's stomach. Still dizzy from the dancing and her drinks, it became hard for Clarke to stop herself from remembering her vision. From imagining Lexa's hands run down her body again, cupping her breasts, wrapping around her thighs to part them wider as she settled in between them and pressed her eager mouth against wet heat. Clarke couldn't have imagined prim, focused Lexa with a tattoo before - but she could imagine this Lexa having one, especially stood next to her cousin, who had an entire sleeve of them on his left arm and another one going down his neck and beneath the collar of his shirt. It was all she could think about now, making it impossible to deny any longer that Lexa's build matched the one from her vision, that her hair was just as thick, and that there was clearly more to her than clipped sentences and serious expressions.

Clarke downed her glass of water to parch her suddenly dry throat, hoping it wasn't so obvious the kind of thoughts she was entertaining. And on a date with another woman, no less. What kind of person did that? She had to get a grip, and fast. It must've been a cruel joke that Niylah found her then, softly pressing her hand against her back.  

"Are you okay?" She asked.

Clarke quickly nodded, but when she turned her head and looked toward Lexa again, their eyes met and okay seemed like the furthest thing to describe her feelings. She wasn't sure what she could possibly read in Lexa's expression from so far across the room, but her heart pounded regardless. Lexa knew why she'd declined her invitation now and Clarke couldn't really understand why she felt sudden guilt, like she had been caught in a lie. But she hadn’t - she'd told Lexa she had plans. How she could have known that they would wind up in the same place regardless? She swallowed hard and looked away.

"I think I've had enough for tonight," she told Niylah.

Niylah seemed to agree and reached for her empty glass. "Let me put this down and let's get out of here."

"Meet me outside the restroom?" Clarke asked.

"Sure."

It was a bit quieter on the way to the restroom, though Clarke wondered if maybe she was just going deaf. She followed the sign and wavered just a second when she realized she was walking by a large stairwell. It was splendid, with details in the railing that Clarke had to marvel at for just a moment.

She looked up and found a tabby cat staring at her from one of the steps, but tonight had already been too strange for her to be surprised. Shaking her head, she continued toward the restroom and forgot all about it.

When she checked herself in the large mirror above the sink, washing her hands with the slowness of someone with too much whisky coursing through them, her thoughts went back to the past year. She wondered if the next would look like the same despite her vision; if something so monumentally life changing to some people would just end up being an old memory to her. She pushed some of her hair back from where it stuck to her forehead, sighing at the state of her lipstick now completely faded.

When she came out of the restroom and passed the stairwell, she vaguely became aware of someone coming her way. When she glanced at their face, she stopped short. 

"Lexa," she said, surprised. 

Lexa looked up at something and then strangely stilled. "Don't panic."

Clarke frowned. "What's wrong?"

"There's an angry cat perched on the stairs about to pounce on you."

"What?" Clarke turned around.

"No don't move," Lexa warned her gently, her hand reaching for her waist to keep her from staring at the cat.  

Clarke felt a jolt beneath Lexa's touch, like the lightest press of her fingers had burned her. She hadn’t expected it, let alone Lexa stepping so close to her. She wasn't sure what she wished for the most - to have worn a thicker dress so that she wouldn't feel the heat of Lexa's hand so close to her skin or have it entirely gone.  

"Why not?" She asked her, alarmed, though she was unsure if it was because of Lexa's proximity or because a cat might claw her face out.  

"Any sudden movement and she reacts," Lexa explained as she kept her eyes trained on the cat. "She pounced on me in this exact spot just a few months ago. It's not a pleasant feeling."

Clarke found herself unable to look anywhere but at Lexa's face - or rather the column of her throat, tilted just a bit. "I can't imagine," she said.

"She's skittish, but a little patience goes a long way."

"Does it?"

Maybe it wasn't the time for Clarke to realize Lexa and her had always been separated by something before, whether it was the counter at the café or the table Lexa sat at. Lexa was a customer - had never been anything else. She said hello and ordered and said goodbye. They'd had brief conversations, but the line had still been there. The line that one expected between the person behind the counter and the person in front of it.

But when her question prompted Lexa to finally look away from the cat, and look at her, and realize how close they were, Clarke knew the line had vanished. Lexa's eyes seemed to darken, and Clarke thought maybe her fingers pressed into her waist just the briefest moment before she suddenly stepped away.

"She's gone," Lexa said with a hard swallow.

"What?"

"The cat."

"Oh." Clarke's heart hammered while she glanced toward the stairs, having completely forgotten about the animal. When she failed to catch Lexa’s eyes again, she thought for a moment that Lexa seemed upset. "Thank you," she breathed out.

"Hm."

“Hey,” Niylah called her as she arrived from around the corner. “You ready to go?”

Clarke blinked at Niylah before remembering their last conversation. She walked to her side. “Yeah, let’s go.”

Lexa was gone when Clarke looked back, but the feeling in her chest persisted.

The ride to Niylah’s was quiet, and neither reached out to touch hands like they would have usually done. Outside of Niylah’s complex, they stood by the door and watched the Lyft pull away. Niylah stepped closer to her.

“I had a great night,” she said.

“Me too. Thanks for the invite.”

"Thank you for the drinks."

Clarke smiled. Spending time with Niylah always felt easy. They laughed and were comfortable together. Their conversations always flowed. Clarke couldn't think of a single fault to pick apart, and yet when Niylah cupped her cheek and kissed her, she knew something had changed.

"I'm sorry," she whispered as she pulled away.

Niylah nodded sadly. "I figured. Had to reach this point sometime, right?"

"I don't want to lose you," Clarke insisted. "I… I just think I might if we keep doing this."

"I know."

Clarke wasn't sure what to say for a moment - wasn't sure why this night hadn’t gone like all the other ones. All she knew was that Niylah's kiss had carried less heat than Lexa's brief touch - hadn’t made her stomach tighten or her heart beat faster. She didn't understand it yet, how she could react so strongly to a stranger, but she couldn't drag Niylah into her mess.  

"Are we going to be okay?"

"I might be ten minutes late this Monday to stick it to you," Niylah shrugged playfully.

"You deserve at least an extra twenty."

Niylah hummed in consideration before she opened the door. "Have a good night, Clarke."

"Night, Niy."

-

[part three]

[mf-despair-queen]

The Origin (You and I) - Taeyong

Author: @mf-despair-queen

Pairing: Lee Taeyong/Reader

Word Count: 28,080

Summary: Neo City was the origin tour for the group you were paired with for photography. Yet, it was the start of something more. You grow closer to Lee Taeyong throughout your travels in the US, the crush growing every day. 

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, Protected Sex, Oral, Just generally fluffy smut ok? Like... fluffier than I ever write but it’s so cute and soft I can’t???

Notes: Uwa. I took a detour from my normal Dylan fics to write for the other love of my life: Taeyong. I hope I was able to do him justice. @roscoeknows is the literal best and helped me formulate this plot. And @brien-odylan helped me with some opinions. They are amazing, even when they don’t read for Tae. 

I am also sorry to whoever is about to about to scroll past this in case the read more doesn’t work. 

I can count the number of moments that led us to this point on both hands.

I can count the number of moments that drove me here - to this point.

I can count the number of moments that are just the origin…

...of you and I.

~

“No way. You’re serious?”

There was no way you could contain your excitement the second your boss gave you the news. You were elated at the simple things you were told. Your hands curled around the camera in your lap, Minji grinning from her spot in the chair across from you.

“Why would I be joking about this?” she pondered aloud, eyeing you down.

“Well, I just thought,” you started, pausing in your thoughts. Your gaze fell to the camera in your lap, seeing the pictures you had been working on prior to receiving the fateful call from Minji. You had walked into her office, heart pounding with heaping anxiety. Now, it just seemed to be pounding with joyful exuberance. “I didn’t think I’d be joining them on their US tour.”

“You are the best photographer we have. And you’ve been working with NCT since their debut,” the woman across from you pointed out. “It was only natural that you would be joining us on the US portion of the tour. There are a lot of things planned, a lot of interviews and performances, and I want you to lead the photography and video for their social media. We want to document this for the NCTzens and I know you will deliver what they want.”

You felt like you were vibrating in your seat. Holding back the large grin that threatened to unveil itself, you nodded at her, bowing gratefully. “Thank you for this opportunity. I’ve never gotten to travel abroad with them. Thank you so much, Minji. I won’t let you down.”

“I know you won’t,” the woman mused. Digging into her bag, Minji pulled out a manila envelope, the silver clasp neatly sealed against the yellow exterior. Your name was printed across the front, writing neat and precise. Praying your hand wasn’t sweaty, you reached for the envelope, staring at your superior - eyes wide with wonder and confusion. “This is the itinerary for performances, flight schedule, hotel details. Everything you will need while you are in the states. You might have to discuss with the boys what they are planning to do while they are there, so you can plan what videos will be posted. We do leave on Wednesday, so start packing soon. We will be gone for roughly a month, so plan accordingly.”

“Yes, ma’am,” you said, not hiding the smile this time. “Thank you again.”

“Don’t thank me. You deserve this, and I wouldn’t want anyone else to join us on this tour,” she confirmed. “Now, get going. You have a job to do. The boys should be in the studio practicing their new Superhuman performance for Good Morning America. Go take some memory shots.”

“Of course,” you replied, hanging your camera around your neck and hugging the folder to your chest before standing, bowing to your boss before rushing off.

There was a distinct pep in your step as you rushed down the halls of the SM Entertainment building, stopping to pick up iced coffees for the nine boys you were about to see. In the years you had worked for the company, you never would have expected to be traveling to the United States on a tour with the group you primarily took photos of for their albums and social media. This was a first for you - a first for them. And you were glad to be part of it.

The boys of NCT - Neo Culture Technology - were like family to you. Having been around them so much, seeing the grow up through their rookie days, traveling alongside them as they rose in popularity, earning new members that were quickly integrated as brothers, they were like the siblings you never had - or really asked to have. They cared about you just as much as they cared about each other, holding you up when you were down, helping you out when you needed them most.

You loved them all

But none more so than the man with the dark eyes that you saw the second you entered the studio.

His eyes, dark brown, piercing your soul. Dark hair that clung to his sweaty face, fluffed up from bouncing on the balls of his feet during his dance. A jaw that was sharp enough to cut through steel. His Gucci shirt clung to his torso, his jeans tight around his waist. His chest rose and fell with heavy breaths, luscious pink lips parted to allow air to flow with ease while catching his breath from the set they just finished. He was the man that looked good from any angle, never having to try to be attractive - it was natural to him.

Lee Taeyong made your heart thump unevenly, the beat frozen when your eyes locked through the mirror.

“Y/N!” Haechan cheered, breaking formation to run your way, arms wrapped around your waist awkwardly. The force of the impact made you grunt, arms screaming in agony from the way you had to hold the trays of coffee up so they didn’t spill all over your body. The youngest amongst the group stuck to you thanks to the excessive sweat that coated his form, making you grimace in disgust.

“Haechannie, I love you, but with all due respect, get off,” you growled playfully, trying to wiggle out of his grasp.

With the strenuous motion, you felt the coffees beginning to slip, the center cups that were already precariously balanced ready to tip your way. Your eyes closed in anticipation of the impact, surprised when you felt warmth envelop your body.

Taeyong hand rushed forward, taking one of the trays in one hand, his other hand resting on your waist, nestled within Haechan’s tight grip. The tray was passed to Johnny so the leader could take the other tray from you. His body was warm, his hands soft against yours. It didn’t matter that he was doused in sweat. He looked beautiful up close, his face near yours from his quick catch.

Your face was burning with a blush you hoped he couldn’t make out. But you couldn’t help it. You were in the presence of a literal angel.

“Thanks, Taeyong,” you whispered, praying to keep your voice from cracking.

The dark-haired man nodded slightly at your words, lips curling upright with an adorable smile before turning to his younger, smiled dropped for serious. “Don’t try to kill her, Haechan. Do you want to kill Y/N?”

“Sorry, noona,” Haechan uttered, almost sadly. To ease the young boy’s mind, you pat him on the head, ruffling his fluffy locks.

“You’re alright, Haechannie. But next time, if I end up wearing coffee, we will have trouble.”

The boys let out a round of chuckles, collapsing to the floor in a circle. The coffee was passed around, ice and liquid sloshing around. Content sighs filled the air with each slurp that was done, making a smile rise to your face. You, yourself, had sat happily on the ground next to Taeyong, gratefully taking the coffee he handed your way.

“So, what brings you by Y/N?” Mark inquired, leaning back on his hands, legs outstretched carelessly. “I thought you were working on the Superhuman photos for the release next month.”

“I was,” you confided, swirling your cup around, watching the liquid circle the plastic cup like a vortex of milky espresso. “I got called by Minji while I was working on them.

“What for?” Taeyong asked, your heart stilling at his deep, yet cheerful, voice. Glancing at the leader, his head was cocked to the side, listening intently to what you had to say. His lips showed a toothy smile that made your insides churn wildly, elation filling you from within.

“She wanted to discuss the tour with me.”

“The tour?” Jungwoo asked, blinking a few times. “You’re going on tour?”

The room fell silent, cups of half depleted coffee placed on the hardwood floor in front of them. The tension was palpable, a sorrowful mood making the air stuffy. No one dared to glance at each other, eyes downcast to the crisscrossed legs and bundled hands that turned white. None were more sorrowful than the black-haired beauty to your right, his knuckles extra tight, jaw clenched, and dark eyes closed tight enough until his forehead wrinkled. His shoulders slumped more than the others, hair draped over his face to shield his distraught expression. His hand rose to his mouth, his obvious anxiety expressed through the nervous habit of nail biting.

You let out an awkward chuckle, biting at the tip of the straw. “Why the long face, guys?”

“You’re going on a tour without us,” Doyoung uttered lowly.

“We were hoping you’d be coming with us this time,” Johnny continued for his friend. “You missed the Japan tour, so we were hoping you’d get to come with us to the states.”

“It won’t be the same without you,” Mark muttered.

“Yeah,” you mumbled, unable to hold back the smile against the straw. “Too bad you won’t have to go without me.”

Your words seemed to click the gears in their heads, all nine boys glancing at you in disbelief. Jaws went slack, eyes went wide, but no words were shared. Your smile only grew larger, staring at the ground and sipping your drink until someone spoke up.

“You’re coming on tour with us?” Jaehyun finally asked, hand raising to his chin to rub it aimlessly.

“You hit the nail on the head, Jae,” you laughed. “I will be in charge of the photos and video for your social media while out there. So, I hope you guys are ready to deal with me daily while I am all in your business.”

A round of laughter broke out, the tension easing away. Glancing to your side, you watched Taeyong push his hair back, relief washing over his features. His cheeks puffed out while exhaling, eyelashes fluttering open and closed. You knew your face was red from watching him, turning away quickly.

“You had us scared there, Y/N,” Taeyong huffed, acting as if he were annoyed with the misunderstanding that arose. “I thought you weren’t going to be joining us for a second there.”

“I did tell you that I was going on tour. You guys just assumed,” you teased, leaning over to poke the leader’s cheek. “Maybe you don’t want me to go, Yongie. I should just go.”

Rising to your feet, you didn’t make it two steps before two arms wrapped around your waist. Your heart stopped at the warmth they provided, a taller form pressed against your back. His scent wafted into your nose, the musk he gave off pleasing on your senses. His face was practically buried in the back of your head, shielded by your hair.

One by one, the hug was increased, each boy joining in on the massive group hug that had formed around you. Sandwiched amongst the sweaty boys, you couldn’t help but to laugh, squirming around in their grasp. “Let me go!”

“Never!” they screamed together, without a familiar cue from their leader.

“You are part of our family,” Mark laughed. “No one else can have your talent.”

“We’re glad you could join us,” Taeil said, a unison of nods validating his words.

“We wouldn’t have it any other way,” Taeyong whispered, your heart speeding up instantly.

There you stood in a hug with the boys you adored - the family you came to be part of and love. They hugged you tightly, refusing to let go, professing their delight that you were joining them on their next adventure.

Yet, no one held you as tight as him, his touch lingering longer and more intense.

~

Moment one - New York

You let out a yawn, following the boys through the halls of the hotel until the stretch of rooms reserved were found. You stopped to take a quick picture of them together in the hall, posing in the dim lighting that added a certain glamour to their image. One by one, they disappeared into their rooms to drop off their bags, moving to congregate in Taeyong and Mark’s room to discuss the afternoon.

“I feel jetlagged already,” you pouted, collapsing on the couch. Taeyong laughed, sitting on the floor in front of you, nestled between your legs. Your face heated up, distracting yourself with your notebook so the blush was hidden.

“The time difference is real,” Taeyong laughed, leaning back and looking up at you. “I hope we are able to adjust to the time here quickly.”

“I’m sure you can. You can do anything.” The words came without ease, your lips sealing the second they left. “Sorry.”

“It’s fine,” he said sweetly, smiling your way. “Thanks for the compliment.”

“Stop flirting,” Mark teased, sitting next to you. You sent a glare at the blonde boy, knowing full well that he was the only member that knew about your crush on the dark-haired leader. Mark was the closest to you - the best little brother of the bunch. He saw the glances you gave Taeyong’s way, asking about it over lunch one day. You couldn’t stop yourself from confiding in the younger male. Now, you were regretting it since he was throwing it back in your face.

“We’re not flirting,” you clarified when Taeyong said nothing in your stead. “Now, hurry up guys! We have a long night ahead of us since we have to start preparing your look for the tour. Since we have to be up early tomorrow for GMA, we need to run through wardrobe, last minute prep so make up will be quick when you wake up, you have a dance practice to do-”

“I thought you were our social media coordinator for this, not our manager, Jaehyun chuckled from across the room.

“I swear, I will throw my show at you, Jae! I was told to keep you rowdy bunch in line, so I will!” you screamed back. Ripping the paper from your notebook, you handed it to Mark. “This is what everyone needs to be doing before you head to bed. Pass it around please.”

“I got you,” Mark laughed, standing from his seat.

“Thanks, Markie,” you hummed. “We have to be up pretty early tomorrow, so don’t take forever guys!”

The chorus of acknowledgement spread through the room, all moving to their places apart from Taeyong. The man just sat between your legs, his head rest on your knee. His fingers played aimlessly with your shoe laces, grazing your ankle just enough to make you shiver.

Biting your lip, you spoke up, “That means you too, Yongie.”

“But I’m sleepy,” he whined. “Can I nap first?”

“No,” you hushed the older man. Unconsciously, your fingers ran through his hair, toying with the soft strands. “We have to finish your hair. We were adding in the blue, remember?”

“Are you going to do it for me?” he asked, propping his chin up on your knee, sending you a sideways glance. Immediately, your hand retracted from his hair, realizing what you were doing.

“Well, I-”

“Please?” he asked, pouting cutely. “I know you can. We watched you dye your own hair once.”

“I don’t know, Yong.”

“Fine,” he huffed, hugging your leg and resuming his comfortable (enough) position. “I’m just going to nap.”

Groaning under your breath, you smiled and shook your head at his childish nature. “Fine. But, you owe me.”

“I will buy you food when we go out exploring,” Taeyong quickly jumped in, turning to glance at you with a sparkle in his eyes. “I want to try New York donuts. Will you try them with me?”

The blush was inevitable. The smile was hard to resist. Your eyes sealed shut, nodding at the attractive man, unable to deny his charming grin. “I’ve always wanted to eat donuts in America.”

“Deal,” Taeyong chimed, jumping to his feet. “You do my hair, I buy us donuts.”

He extended a hand, one you simply couldn’t resist taking. Pulling you to your feet, his hand caught your waist to keep you balanced. His smile made your heart race. The man pulled you along with him, the promise of donuts in your future for such a simple task as to dye the newly added highlights to his dark hair blue.

Yet, it didn’t end there.

He managed to con you into doing his makeup the following morning for Good Morning America. Half awake, you opened the door to find an eager Taeyong pleading for you to help with his look since you were the expert in how he should be seen by the fans - apparently, at least. In less than a half an hour, he was seated in a chair, arms bare due to the loose black, shimmering tank top he was wearing, his black and gold jacket neatly folded in his lap until you were finished.

The entire time, your hands trembled against his stilled face. His skin was soft, and every grace of your fingers seemed to make him smile and laugh, uttering under his breath that it tickled.

Watching them perform on Good Morning America was spectacular. A front of seat to take pictures while one of the people assigned to work with you caught video from the other side, avoiding the cameras for the show itself. Your eyes never strayed from the man in front, nearly choking when he leaned back during the premiere of Superhuman, shaking his shoulders to the beat. The back slid off, should the broad shoulders he had and bits of his biceps.

You were glad you managed to catch it on camera in the midst of the shock.

The change was quick afterwards, headed straight to prepare for the performance on Strahan and Sara. One wardrobe change and make up touch up later, and they were preparing for their short interview and second performance in the states. The entire time, you snapped pictures that you would have to filter through later, picking the best to upload for fans to cherish.

While waiting for the performance to begin, you prepared some photos to upload, scrolling through the posts that had been posted to the NCT twitter page since the morning began. A smile made its way to your face at the support received, reading comments regarding the premiere of the new song - albeit it being shortened.

You couldn’t be prouder of the boys, pocketing your phone as the cheers of fans around you started up. Signs were held up that read ‘NCT 127 ♡ to the world with NCTzens ♡’, light sticks glowed green and lit the room, fans chanted as the boys were introduced, one by one flooding onto the stage. The group waved at their fans, but nothing made you more excited than the smile Taeyong sent your way, a short wave in your direction.

Pushing the blush on your cheeks away, you readied your camera, filming as if nothing happened.

_

The first you were ever in New York, and you were following a horde of boys around Brooklyn. The nine males were enthralled after their performances, full of energy that made it almost impossible to keep up. There was no time to change as the boys jumped in the Neo City bus, hitting the streets decked in golden suits that glistened and sparkled under the sun.

You typically trailed behind them, taking pictures of them when they stopped to browse through stores. The smaller camera you had on you was used for selfies, a combination of silly faces and sexy gazes embedded in the memory card. Group photos became a must, a chorus of pleas to make memories for themselves hitting your ears time after time.

They even managed to get you in on one once, all of you standing in the street with the Brooklyn Bridge in the background - though that was for them to keep.

Finally settling down for a meal, you were rewarded with the food that Taeyong promised you. The group had made a temporary home inside of a hot dog shop on some random street corner. Taeyong urged you to take a seat with the boys while he ordered, buying food and drinks for the lot. As usual when their leader provided food - being a mother tending to his children - the eight remaining boys cheered happily, plopping in their seats at various tables. You were left at a small table at the end,

Mark wiggled his eyebrows in your direction that only caused you to roll your eyes and blush. The younger blonde sat to your right, joining in a conversation with Taeil and Jungwoo. Across the way, you watched Taeyong order food, struggling a bit with his English but managing to succeed. You smiled at the proud expression on his face, a stack of plastic cups in his hands.

The cups were distributed and hotdogs were delivered, everyone enjoying their meal through multiple discussions. Taeyong placed himself in the chair across from you, having shrugged off his gold jacket and placing it on the back of his chair. The sleeves of his abstract designed button up were rolled up, showing the veins that ran up his arms, before pushing a hot dog your way. The man flashed you a smile, white teeth shining at you with the simple curl of his lips.

“As promised,” he joked, sipping his iced tea. “Please enjoy.”

“Thank you, Taeyong,” you uttered in return, unwrapping the sausage. The table was silent in comparison to the other two that were crowded with the members, your eyes glued to the food in front of you.

Taeyong cleared his throat after a few minutes of agonizing muteness between your forms, running his hand through his hair. “So, um…” he started, trying to form words. “Did you enjoy the performance today?”

“Oh yeah!” you squeaked, cursing yourself for the noise you made. “It was amazing. You guys did so well today. You can really tell you guys worked hard to premiere that.”

“Do you think the fans will like the new song?” he asked, biting at his hot dog.

“Do I think? No,” you laughed, seeing the man pout. “I know they are enjoying it.”

“Eh?”

“I was reading comments earlier on the videos and pictures that were posted. You guys are getting a lot of positive feedback. The NCTzens are loving the new song,” you told him. Reaching across the table, you took his hand that was resting on the table, rubbing your thumb over his smooth skin. “You guys should be proud.”

Taeyong gave a small smile, nodding in response. His hand gripped at yours in return, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “Thanks, Y/N.”

Your hands remain connected for a moment before you realized what you were doing, slowly, and reluctantly, pulling your hand back. His remained outstretched on the table a second more until he reacted it, placing it in his lap.

“So,” you hummed, dragging out the ‘o’ part of the word, breaking the silence that formed again. “Have you guys decided what we are going to do tomorrow? There isn’t much to do, so you are free to do whatever as part of the ‘NCT Hits the States’ segment we discussed.”

“I know Mark and Jaehyun were wanting to go see Phantom of the Opera, but we agreed to take part of the day and go to East Village.” He paused, meeting your gaze from across the table. His lips rubbed together before parting, smooth words flowing from his tongue. “You will join us, right?”

Smiling, you nodded. “Of course.”

And needless to say, East Village was unforgettable.

Decked in a black long-sleeved shirt, jean jacket and army printed jeans, Taeyong dragged you with the rest of the boys around East Village. His hair bounced against his forehead with each step he took. His necklace that dangled around his neck, resting on his chest, swayed back and forth. He posed no matter where he stopped, managing to produce a killer photo without even trying. Every angle gave perfect results.

And most of all, his hand almost always stayed in yours, confusing you beyond belief. Taeyong wasn’t afraid of skinship, but this was abnormal for him.

“Donuts!” the older man cried in delight, rushing forward towards the sweet shop. Shaking your head, you went after the man, knowing the others would deviate to the shops around to peruse the shelves.

“You and your love for sweets,” you laughed at the childish man who was rocking back and forth on his heels, staring at the display of donuts.

“I love sweets,” he grinned, turning your way. “What do you want? I will buy.”

“What? No. You already bought me lunch yesterday-”

“I want to,” he corrected. “Please. This is our first time in New York. Make memories with me! Eat a donut with me!”

His bottom lip jutted out, placing his curled fists on the side of his face in an attempt to look cute. The pout made you burst out laughing, the pout increase.

“Please! Stop!” you cried through giggles. “I can’t take it.”

“Then eat a donut with me!” he asked again, leaning closer to you. “Please, Y/N?”

“Fine!” you let out, wiping at your eyes. “Fine. Just stop it.”

Taeyong looked successful.

“I think I want something with frosting. What about you.”

“Cinnamon sugar.”

With donuts in hand, you exited the shop, Taeyong wasting no time in biting into the delicious treat. Too cute to dismiss, you snapped a picture of him eating the donut, staring a bit too long in the end. You tried to bite at your own donut, courtesy of Taeyong, getting cinnamon sugar on your cheek without noticing. The donut was soft and luscious, pleasing your taste buds. Your eyes closed, relishing in the sweet taste and delectable aroma you were getting.

“You got some…”

Taeyong reached forward, your eyes fluttering open when his hand met your cheek. The sugar was wiped clean, but his touch lingered. The tips of his fingers grazed along your skin for a bit, leaving it warm and tingling. When he pulled away, he smiled cheekily, biting his lip slightly. The sugar was wiped onto a napkin and discarded. Taeyong’s eyes bore into you, speaking up after a moment.

“You should be more careful next time,” he spoke softly, his voice deep and silvery. “You don’t want your beautiful face to be ruined by some specks of sugar. You’re sweet enough without it.”

You blinked at him, feeling your face heating up degree by degree.

Is… is he flirting with me?

Taeyong smiled at your lack of response, taking a few steps back. “Come on. We should find the others. I want to get more pictures while we can!”

The devious man rushed off towards Haechan, who stood at a record store flipping through the case in front of the doors. You were left speechless and thinking that maybe, just maybe, Taeyong liked you more than you thought.

Mark told you once that Taeyong liked you more than a friend, but you dismissed the insinuation as being absurd.

Maybe Mark was right.

Maybe Taeyong was flirting.

Maybe Taeyong liked you as much as you liked him.

That hope sent the butterflies storming in your gut as you rushed after him, wondering what else would happen.

~

Moment Two: Miami

“Miami Beach!”

Johnny’s voice filled the blue skies.

It felt like deja vu when you stepped off the bus at the infamous Miami Beach. The boys had already slipped off their sandals and were barreling through the sand towards the water., Grains of the white sand flew through the air as they ran, distancing themselves from you, the staff and the bus. It was Santa Monica all over again.

With your camera dangling from your arm by the strap, you trudged after the boys, cursing the leg day you were about to endure. Sliding off your own sandals, your feet sunk into the warm sand, feeling the grains digging softly into your skin. Every step, your body sunk into the sand, the path to the water and the boys that took off before you seemingly a mile away. The sun was beating down against your skin, making you fan yourself from the heat.

Good thing Taeyong was adamant about you putting on sunblock before leaving the bus.

The group of boys were happily laugh, running around the wet sand, waves lapping around their ankles. Every single white shirt they wore was splashes at, the ends turning transparent and sticking to toned skin. They chased each other, dragging each other deeper into the water, laughing the entire time. Watching them only led to your own chuckles, placing your shoes with theirs and taking your camera into ready position.

Shockingly, you managed to get usable shots of the guys messing around with each other. Your favorite moment was when Haechan wrapped his arms around Mark’s waist, the older’s face scrunching up with hysterical laughs while being carried to the water. The blonde flailed in his friend’s arms until his feet met the wet, salty fluid, splashing up their legs to the ends of their shirts and up their shorts. Taeyong watched from afar, standing in the hot sand, laughing at the agony his group was causing each other. His feet carried him forward with ease, sand stuck to his feet and ankles. Pulling his shorts up as he entered the water, he turned to look back at the shoreline, waves crashing against him from behind.

Under the sun, the man glowed in your eyes. His earrings dangled from his earlobes, glistening silver under the light. The blue in his hair was already fading fast, the blonde streaks returning along his chocolate strands that curled more than normal. Instead of his normally straight, somewhat wavy locks, they were curled around each, twisting into coils that blew in the breeze. His lips parted, a toothy smile and melodic laugh reaching out towards you, inviting you in. Water dripped from his limbs, droplets dripping down his arms and legs. The shirt clinging to his body showed the tightened stomach hidden by white cotton, the subtly lean muscles making your heart race.

Taeyong splashed his way towards you, knees rising as he rushed through the waves back to the sand. Your eyebrow rose at the soaked male, snapping a quick picture as he made his way towards you. “Come on,” he grinned, holding a hand out to you.

“Um, no,” you disagreed with a smile, backing away. “I’m not in the mood to get wet. Plus, I have my camera.”

“Just put the camera down and come on,” he urged, darting forward to grab the camera in one hand and your hand in his other. Struggling to escape his grasp was useless. The camera was placed carefully with the pile of shoes, Taeyong beginning to drag you towards the ocean.

“Taeyong, no,” you whimpered at him. Resistance was futile against the rapper. Your feet just slid through the sand, only stumbling when too much built up around your ankles. Taeyong let out a hearty chuckle, finally resorting to wrapping his arms around your waist, throwing you over his shoulder. “Taeyong, stop! I swear, I will eat all your candy! I know where it is hidden in the bus!”

“I will buy more.”

“No! Please!”

The water was cold at first, a squeak of surprise leaving your mouth. The water splashed around your legs, wetting the shorts you had on, dousing your knees and hands. Taeyong’s hands remained on your sides to keep you from running off, both of you beginning to sink into the sand that washed away with the tide.

“Taeyong!” you hollered. “Let me go before I kill you!”

“Just play with me!” he whined, crouching down to splash you. His hand swiped at the salty liquid, flicking it up to your face. Shrieking once more, you stumbled back to avoid it, failing when the water landing on your cheeks and dotted your shirt. The second you moved back, Taeyong’s eyes went wide, sharp jaw ajar. “Y/N, watch out-”

Water splashed against your back, a large wave pummeling into your back, soaking you from head to toe. The other boys seemed to stop what they were doing at your scream, Taeyong covering his face to hide the shame and embarrassment. He felt horrible; he knew he was responsible for what happened. His gut wrenched at the sight of your face, irritation and sadness written on your features.

“I hate you,” you huffed, inching towards the shore with water dripping from every inch of you. Taeyong followed suit, watching you wring out your hair as you walked. You collapsed to the sand by your belongings, attempting to wipe the sand off that stuck to your arms.

“I’m sorry” Taeyong frowned, collapsing next to you. “I didn’t mean for you to get soaked.”

“It’s fine,” you told him.

Taeyong pouted. “Don’t be mad at me, Y/N. Please.”

“Tae, I’m not mad,” you replied, reaching over to ruffle his hair briefly. “I’m just going to chill here and dry off for a bit.”

Taeyong opened his mouth to reply but choked on his words when you pulled your shirt over your head, leaving you in the red bikini top you had worn under it. His dark eyes grew in size, cheeks turning a bright red that wasn’t from the sun. Your shirt was laid out to dry, Taeyong unable to deter his gaze. His orbs traced up and down your body before turning to grab a towel from one of the bags that were snapping his eyes shut.

The man collapsed to sand on his back, staring up at the blue skies. White wisps of clouds floated by slowly, Taeyong using that as a way to distract himself from your near topless form beside him. He tried to find shapes in the, counting them as they blew by. Anything to keep his face from reddening again.

He jumped when he felt your finger prod at his stomach. His fluffy curled head turned to glance at you, finding you staring down at him with a smile. A smile grew on his face, shaking his head from left to right. His earrings swung with the simple movement, earning himself a soft laugh from you.

“Don’t poke my fat,” he whined, wrapping his arms around his midsection.

You scoffed at his answer, leaning back on your hands and staring at the idol. “Fat? Seriously, Yongie?”

“What?”

“Boy, you have abs,” you told him. Taeyong, jokingly, lifted the collar of his shirt, peering down to his stomach at an angle you couldn’t see for a moment. “Nope,” he murmured, letting his collar fall back into place. “I don’t have abs.”

“I seriously should beat your ass. I know you have abs, Lee Taeyong. I have seen them before!” you hollered, poking him again. The man chuckled, wiggling away from your touch. “I have seen exactly how good they are.”

Your body heated up at the memory.

During the practices in the gym leading up to the Seoul tour, you were helping to film one day. Sitting on the bleachers, you had your camera pointed at the boys while they practiced, learning the jungle gym and rehearsing choreography. When you least expected it, Taeyong, Jaehyun and Yuta walked towards you. Jaehyun was checking his hair in the camera lens, letting it flop back and forth. Taeyong was adjusting his clothes. Yuta was making faces at the camera.

The next thing you knew, Yuta moved away from the camera and you were met with Taeyong lifting his shirt at you. The black shirt he wore was held up by both hands, ending just above the nipples. The length of his stomach was riddled with lines, the faint traces of a six pack obviously pressed into his for. The top of his Emporio Armani underwear stuck out from the band of his jeans, low on his hips. You were speechless at what you saw, Taeyong willingly having shown off his body to you.

The moment was short lived when Jaehyun joined him, the workout enthusiast revealing an equally impressive body. Both men ran their hands along their bodies for a bit before dropping their shirts and walking away. Taeyong had an unmistakable grin on his face as he walked away, adjusting his hat as if nothing had happened.

The memory was burned into your mind, and saying it aloud now made you flush a pale pink. Taeyong was handsome - no doubt about that.

“I don’t have abs though,” he repeated, slinging an arm over his eyes. He peeked past his forearm, one dark eye visible with his wide smile. “But, thank you for thinking I’m hot.”

“What?” you asked, blinking in confusion. “I didn’t-”

“Because I think you’re pretty beautiful yourself.”

Silence filled the air, only cut by the chatter and laughter of those around you. Your jaw was slack, mouth ajar. You stared down at the man, knowing you were blushing profusely. The man let out a small laugh after a bit, hiding his face in his arm before choosing to roll over, pushing himself to his feet.

“Come on,” he mused, wiping his hands off. Extending one in your direction, he grinned. “I saw this food stand down the beach that looked like it had these really yummy drinks. Like… some lemonade with strawberries. It looks really sweet and I want to try it.” He paused, biting his lip. “Come with me, please?”

You stared up at him before taking his hand wordlessly, allowing him to help you to your feet. Together, you trekked down the beach to get the drink Taeyong desired. You snapped pictures of him drinking his drink, posing multiple times for the camera.

And, unbeknownst to you, he managed to get his own picture captured on his phone of you standing at the edge of the water, the sun making you silhouette glow like an angel. You were smiling, eyes closed, enjoying the breeze.

The image made the idol giddy, butterflies fluttering inside.

~

Moment Three: Phoenix

“I’ve never been to a botanical garden,” you hummed at the two boys you were with, sticking your yellow sticker for entrance to your shirt. You had arrived at the Desert Botanical Garden almost immediately after landing in Phoenix, Yuta pleading to go incessantly. Taeyong joined in his pleading, and you just couldn’t refuse.

“I think this will be fun,” Taeyong hummed, picking up a map for the adventure about to be undergone. “I love flowers. My aunt had a giant garden back hoe and has been getting my mom into it.”

“That’s so sweet,” you told the man, giving him a smile. “You should say that for the video. I think the NCTzens will really like to hear that kind of fact about you.”

“I just might,” Taeyong mumbled, making you blush lightly.

“Right,” you returned, rubbing your lips together. “We should catch up to Yuta. He’s already gone ahead with the others.”

Taeyong nodded, rushing to follow after his friend. Your steps followed instantly, staying out of the frame of one of your assists while he filmed the two boys talking. Taeyong stuck the sticker you were given to his black and white shirt, pulling a Fendi headband around his forehead to keep his hair out of his face. Yuta was dressed in the somewhat ridiculous outfit Taeyong had designed for him during a Johnny’s Communication Center episode, hat and all. Yuta held a selfie stick with a camera for a self-view that would get edited together with the rest of the footage, the two boys conversing while exploring.

Their footsteps crunched along the path, the sand along the concrete bringing back fond memories to one particular individual. Stopping to admire their surroundings, you watched them grazing the rocks with their fingers and leaning over to smell the fresh flowers that bloomed in multiple colors. You had to control your laughter when Yuta freaked out over the bugs around.

You noticed that Taeyong began to wander off down a path, looking at the flowers. Your brow furrowed, calling out to the older. “Taeyong! Don’t wander too far on your own!”

“Why don’t we just walk around separately for a bit,” Yuta offered, glancing at you. You shared a look with your companion, seeing them shrug. “We can cover more ground that way. This place is huge after all. We can meet up in a bit.”

“Fine,” you huffed, running a hand through your hair. “You boys just like giving me heart attacks.”

“It’ll be fine,” Yuta reassured, giving his award-winning smile.

“I wonder,” you teased.

“I promise. It’ll be fine,” Yuta repeated. With that, his eyebrow wiggled a bit, his elbow meeting your rib. “Go get him, girl.”

That earned him a glare. “I don’t know what you are talking about.”

“Right.” He seemed unconvinced. Were you that obvious? You wondered.

Backing away, you called out to your coworker before running after the leader. “Take care of him and don’t let him touch anything he shouldn’t!”

Rushing to where Taeyong await, he was brushing his fingers to the petals of a yellow flower, the stems crowding in masses around tall cacti whose arms bent to the dimming sky. His head turned in your direction hearing your approach, the rapid crumble of gravel under your feet easily meeting his musically inclined hearing. He was crouched in front of the flowers, resting his arms on his knees, balancing on the balls of his feet.

“I’m sad,” he said out of the blue, causing you to skid to a halt. Your forehead wrinkled, your hands falling to your front, camera in hand. The look apparently was amusing, Taeyong letting out a hardy chuckle, burying his face in his arms. The tilt of his head allowed one dark eye to be seen, his headphone pulled from his head so his hair fell against his forehead freely. It was straight compared to your days in Miami, but it was charming regardless. “Don’t frown so much. Your beautiful face will be ruined with wrinkles.”

Flustered, all you could do was kick him lightly on the side of the leg, trying your best to glare. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Did I stutter?”

Choosing not to respond, you asked, “Why are you sad exactly?”

Taeyong looked away, shiny eyes staring at the flower he was caressing. “I wanted to pick some flowers for you. Even just one for you. But I can’t. I don’t want to ruin this beautiful place.”

“Taeyong…”

He smiled, tilting his head back to look up at you. “So, I decided that this patch of flowers is dedicated to you.”

Your mouth opened and closed, unable to find words to respond. Your mouth felt dry, failing to swallow to ease the ache. Goosebumps ran up and down your arms, insides tingling and skin burning. His gaze made you sweat, piercing through you like it was nothing. His lips curled up move, a large grin upon his face.

Quickly, he stood up, brushing himself off. “Come on. I want to see what else is around.” He took your hand, heading down the path. “Make sure to get my good side while you film. I want this video to be perfect for the fans.”

“You only have a good side,” was your automatic response. Taeyong just smiled, running his lengthy digits through his locks.

Wandering down the path, Taeyong divulged to your camera how his mother would enjoy the botanical gardens, retelling the story he told you about his aunt teaching her how to garden. His silly nature took to the front, the man spotting Yuta from afar and waving his arm desperately at his friend. And when stopping to stretch, he managed to grab at a tree branch, tugging at it and dangling loosely by the tips of his fingers. Everything you caught on camera showed the true personality of the man you adored.

After reuniting with Yuta, Taeyong was eager to find food. You had caught his stomach growling, the older man voicing his desire for Arizona cuisine. Joy was eminent when he found a nearby cafe, leading the way towards the building. The sign read closed, Taeyong face visibly falling for a bit.

With your camera on him, he shook off the disappointment. “Closed dance!” he cheered, beginning to dance awkwardly, twisting his wrists, swaying his arms and bouncing on his feet. Yuta’s hat rested upon his head, the rim flouncing with the silly dancing. “Oh yes! Closed, man! Closed!”

The dance was short-lived before he collapsed to the ground, fake crying. The disgruntled groan was inhuman, a noise straight from Star Wars. He wailed, hand covering his eyes with the rim of the hat covering his lack of tears. Unable to contain yourself, you stopped recording, failing to cover your laugh.

“Taeyong, oh my god.”

The man fake pouted, standing with his hands on his hips. “Don’t laugh at me! I’m hungry!”

“Stop pouting then,” you laughed, poking his cheek. You dug into your bag, pulling out a bag of crackers. “Have a snack for now. I will buy you food later if you cheer up.”

“I’m good!” he chimed immediately, putting on a smile. He took the bag of crackers, pulling it open. “Let’s go!”

The boys continued walking, eating at the snack you handed off, leaving you flabbergasted. Rolling your eyes, you followed after them, continuing your job.

Success was found at another small cafe where the two boys decided they would indulge in some ice cream. Taeyong’s eyes lit up at the sight of the ice cream bar in his hand, staring curiously at the pineapple and chili frozen treat. His face scrunched up at the odd flavor combination, eyes squinting and lips puckering. It was hot and unusual, but the male wouldn’t let the food go to waste.

Pictures for the day consisted of the two boys with the setting sun in the background, the sky turning orange, pink and blue. They modeled for you, the ambiance of their surroundings adding to their beauty. The prolonged look that Taeyong gave, elbow on his knee and mouth hidden by his hand while staring into the distance, was the best shot, in your opinion, and you were going to truly treasure that shot.

After a quick detour into a gift shop, you made your way towards the exit. Taeyong and Yuta had bags of gifts, some rather strange. Taeyong showed you the scorpion lollipop he bought, chuckling when you grimaced at it. The sound of his laughter got louder when he told you about the crickets he saw, the face of disgust you emitted amusing him.

The stickers you wore were placed on a cactus cutout, the two boys placing theirs first. Taeyong spun to face you, rocking back and forth. “Place yours with mine!” he demanded, pointing at it like a child. “That way, we can always remember that we were able to do this together!”

You blushed, nodding at him and doing as he wished. His happiness delighted you, your eyes following the man as he pulled out his phone, taking a picture of the three stickers on the board. “There. We will always remember now.”

“Did you have fun today?” you inquired, Taeyong nodding swiftly.

“It was a lot of fun. It’s very beautiful here, so I’m glad I was able to join Yuta for this.” His feet kicked along the sandy path as he walked, eyes glued to his feet for a moment before he glanced at you. “I’m glad you were here also. It made everything even better.”

You blushed, your hand tightening around the strap of your bag. “You’re too sweet, Taeyong.”

He laughed before opening his bag from the gift shop. “I almost forgot! I bought you a gift to remember this!”

“What?”

“Ta-da!” he hummed, pulling out a small keychain of a yellow flower - the same flower he had self-dedicated to you earlier in the day. “I saw it and couldn’t help myself. It made me think of you.”

“Wow,” you murmured, taking the keychain. “Thank you, Yongie. You shouldn’t have.”

“I wanted to though,” he whispered, barely loud enough for you to hear. “I like seeing you happy. It makes me happy.”

You didn’t reply, smiling to yourself.

The rest of the walk was silent. Yet, it was nerve wracking. Your bodies got closer as you walked until your hands finally were brushing against each other. In a bold and daring move, Taeyong reached his hand out, tapping yours with his pinky. Your response? To wrap yours around his. The embrace was subtle, but it meant your heart was beating out of your chest, your body tickling with adoration.

At dinner, the two boys happily drank their margaritas, recapping their day while eating large, smothered burritos in mole sauce at a local taco shop. Taeyong, weak with his alcohol, was barely through his glass before he became red faced, growing more giddy and loose. He scarfed down the food he got, despite not knowing if he would finish it, his eyes never leaving you from across the table.

“Y/N,” he sang sweetly. “Can I try your tacos? They look delicious.”

Your eyebrow rose at him, pushing the plate forward. “Go ahead and take one.”

“I just want a bite,” he hummed, opening his mouth. “Feed me.”

“You’re such a child,” you laughed. Embarrassed, you picked up the taco, leaning across the table so he could bite at the corn shell filled with meat, onions and cilantro. His lips brushed against your fingers, your hands going weakly numb at the soft feeling. You nearly dropped the taco before he pulled away, swallowing in one gulp. His hands went to his cheeks as he hummed, delighted at the taste.

“It’s so good,” he sang again.

“Child,” you repeated, shaking your head. “Now, finish eating. We need to get back to the hotel so you can get some rest for the concert tomorrow.”

“Fine, fine. Only because you are paying,” Taeyong mused, sending you a cheeky wink.

“Wah?” Yuta gasped. “What about me? Why aren’t you paying for me?!”

Your mouth opened to respond, getting cut off. “Maybe she just likes me better,” Taeyong told his friend, giving you a soft look. The tap of his foot under the table made you jump, but you didn’t shy away from him. Your legs twisted together, feet nuzzling against each other.

“Maybe,” you said, eying Taeyong briefly before glancing away, smiling brightly.

Yuta just whined, screaming, “I’m hurt!”

~

Moment four: Chicago

“Guys, we are at the Bean.”

The silver monument reflected their smiles, distorting the images of Johnny, Yuta and Taeyong like a funhouse mirror. The entire structure was humongous, able to be seen from far away. Johnny said it was a must see in Chicago, so it was an easy decision to take a trip there.

They jumped. They laughed. They shot video of themselves in the reflection of the bean, making funny faces as they went. They laughed at a seagull sitting on the bean. They took a million pictures with the bean both in front and behind them, giving you plenty of content to upload later. And you got it all on camera - from their jokes to the million selfies Taeyong took with the bean in the background, laughing that it was how he took the perfect selfie.

You face got hot when Yuta and Johnny were walking away from the Bean, Taeyong having stopped for a picture through the bean’s reflection. Upon his running approach, which Johnny narrated for his selfie cam, the jump and squeal he did ultimately stopped your heart. His shirt rose up, showing the toned stomach he had, the tiny scar on the right side of his stomach clearly displayed. You had to turn away and catch your breath before requesting pictures.

You took group pictures of them before dropping to camera, giving them a thumbs up. “That’s a wrap for now! Where are we going next?”

“Coffee!” Taeyong hollered happily, throwing his arms in the air and nearly falling backwards off the bench he was on.

“Agreed!” Yuta said, throwing his own fist in the air. “Coffee!”

“There is a Starbucks not far from here,” Johnny informed, Taeyong jumping to his feet.

“Let’s go!” the idol cheered before pausing. “But first, I want pictures.”

“What?” you asked, confused. “You just took pictures-”

“But not with you.”

Your face was on fire. Johnny and Yuta seemed to understand Taeyong, some unspoken confirmation between the men clear. “We were just going to check the other side of the bean really quick anyway. We’ll be back in five.”

“Wait, what is going on?” you asked, not getting an answer. Johnny and Yuta rushed off, your assistant for the day running after them. You were left with Taeyong, a grin on his face. “Taeyong, what are you up to?”

“Nothing!” he stated. “I just want a picture with you at the bean. So, we can remember this together!”

“That’s really random,” you told him. “But I guess we can take a few shots.”

The man cheered, turning you around and positioning you in a way that would be perfect for pictures with the Bean in the background. Teasingly, you posed in silly ways, mocking his attempts to get the perfect position. Your antics halted when Taeyong began to snap photos of you on his phone, crouching down to get a better angle, as he claimed. He was acting like a professional photographer, grinning at your red face.

Brushing off his knees, Taeyong moved to your side, pulling you closer to his side than you expected. Warmth radiated off of him, his strong arm wrapped tightly around your waist. His fingers were sprawled apart against your side. His leg was flush with yours, his larger foot side by side with your smaller one. He angled the camera in his left hand, pouting at the way he looked in the camera.

“You look so much better than I do!” he whined, unwinding himself to fix his headband, running his fingers through the strands of chocolate that draped over the black band. His earrings dangled from left to right while checking himself, turning to you at last. “Do I look alright?”

“You always look good, Yongie,” you reassured him, reaching out to adjust his jacket, fixing a few strands of his hair that had stuck up from the gentle breeze that blew passed. The cold nipped at your skin, so you were thankful for the human space heater that was close to you. The space between your bodies was minimal, and when you glanced up at his face, you didn’t realize that you were as close as you were. Your noses almost brushed, and the slightest move forward could lead to a kiss you only dreamed of. With a quick clearing of the throat, you pat his chest, backing away carefully. “Let’s take those pictures, shall we?”

“Y-Yeah,” he stuttered out, retaking his original position.

His selfies didn’t change. Rapid fire clicks of his camera shutter went off, Taeyong’s facial expression changing. His hand tilted to adjust the angle of the shot, trying to find the perfect position that would capture you both in the frame, the silver monument on display without issue. At the sound of the endless string of shutters, you laughed, hiding your face in the man’s shoulder, daring to wrap your arms around his waist to hug him close. Your head barely peeked over his shoulder, the tilt of your head making your hair fall along his arm.

Taeyong grinned, doing a quick sweep of the pictures taken. “I love these,” he hummed, clicking on one where you were hiding behind him. His smile was clear, and that made your mood brightened. “This is my favorite. Look how cute you are!”

“Us,” you corrected, cheeks tinging pink at the thought of an ‘us’ between you and the idol. “We look cute because of you.”

“That is a dirty lie and you know it,” the man laughed, taking your hand and dragging you towards the Bean once more. “You are the cute one in this relationship.”

You blushed harder than before. Relationship?

Together, you stood at the base of the bean, thoughts shaken to the back of your mind for the meantime. In the reflection, you made silly faces, the pictures showing the odd looks you were giving. Taeyong’s cheeks puffed out while you made duck faces. He gave a peace sign while you stuck your tongue out. You did victory signs together.

The last couple you took were the cutest. One was simple with your arms around his while he took the picture through the reflection. The other was of you hand in his, Taeyong lifting the back of yours to his lips and giving it a gentle kiss. He said nothing you said nothing. You let it happen, feeling your heart racing, pumping out of your chest. His was rapid firing against his ribs, craving more of your touch when you moved away from him.

You fiddled with your camera, figuring out what to say. “We should, um,” you started, biting at your lip. “We should head to get you some coffee now. We have more places to see today, so let’s not delay.”

“Yeah,” he mumbled.

Pointing your camera at him, you smiled, making his lips curl immediately. “Why not tell the camera what we are going to do, Yongie? The world needs to know what Lee Taeyong is going to do next.”

“If that’s the case,” he mused, taking the camera from you. He angled it at himself, pouting briefly. “Is it recording?”

“Yes,” you giggled.

“Don’t laugh at me!” he grumbled. Facing the camera, he began narrating spinning around in circles as he talked, “So, everyone, from now one, we will go somewhere amazing. Where are we going? To drink some coffee!” He let out a low squeal of excitement, your hand darting to cover your laugh. “We should go there. Let’s go.”

Taeyong took off skipping down the road, your laughter slipping out. Yuta and Johnny rejoined your sides, Yuta’s hands in your pockets while Johnny continued his pv cam as you followed the leader. “He’s excited for coffee,” you told the two, whom nodded in response. “Is he going to get lost?”

“For sure,” Johnny chuckled.

Without fail, Taeyong halted far ahead of you, turning back to stare at your trio. “Where am I going?” he hollered. You burst out laughing, Taeyong whining. “Uwa. Don’t laugh at me!”

Taking your camera back, you pushed him playfully so he would walk with you. “We wouldn’t dare, Taeyong.”

“Such mean brats,” he cried, running to catch up with Johnny and Yuta.

Once at Starbucks, you stood outside the small shop, filming them as they ordered their drinks inside. They could be seen clearly through the glass, Taeyong practically bouncing - even though he didn’t have caffeine in his system. You figured he would also get a pastry, the sweet tooth of the man overcoming anything. He loved his sweets, so the odds of him resisting them were slim to none.

Confusion struck when you saw Taeyong hold up a finger at the barista, say something to Johnny - you assumed in Korean so he could translate to the barista - and rushing towards the door. Your brow rose when he walked out, shuffling your way. For being a dancer, he was rather clumsy, stumbling over his over feet while turning out of the door.

“Hello?” you asked, unsure what else to say.

“What do you want to drink?” he asked, shoving his hands in his jean’s pockets. His foot kicked against the ground, awaiting an answer.

“Oh. You don’t have to get me anything,” you told him.

“I want to though,” he said. “You need to drink something too! My treat.”

You gave a small smile, shaking your head. He was a persistent bastard. “Fine. Get me whatever you recommend,” you told him. “I want Taeyong’s choice.”

A large grin filled his cheeks, giving you an ok sign with his hand. “You got it, madam. You won’t be disappointed.”

He rushed back inside, making you wonder what he was ordering. You saw his mouth move, telling the barista what the last of the order was. Sadly, you couldn’t make out what he said, stuck waiting for him to emerge with the drink. You rocked back and forth on your feet, waiting for him to come back out, fingers fiddling with the camera.

Finally, the three boys come out, drinks in hand, Taeyong holding two different cups in his hands. His jacket sleeves covered his hands, a plastic cup balanced in each one. One cup contained a brown colored blended beverage, the other a pink color. Both had whipped cream swirled on top, the brown one finished with chocolate drizzle.

Taeyong smiled while extending the pink drink your way waiting for you to take it. “Strawberries and cream Frappuccino for you!” he sang happily. “Double chocolate chip for me.”

“Strawberry, eh? What if I wanted chocolate?” you mused, taking the drink. “Taeyong’s choice better be good. If not, I will be really sad.”

“It will be really good,” he promised.

“Are you sure you aren’t biased because you like strawberries so much?” you asked while walking away from the Starbucks, towards the river. Taeyong just hummed, cupping the cup in his sleeve covered hands, sipping his drink happily. The straw stayed between his lips, his cheeks scrunched with a subtle smile.

“That’s not an answer,” you groan, pulling the wrapper off the straw. Eyeing the drink, you finally placed the straw between your own lips, sucking at the sweet beverage. Even though Chicago was chilly and the drink was icy, it was refreshing on the way down your throat. The sweetness of the strawberries and the smoothness of the cream set your sense ablaze, a happy sigh escaping your mouth. “Fine. Your choice was good.”

“I told you,” he chuckled. Leaning into your side, he opened his mouth. “Can I have some? I want some too. Let me try, please?”

You blushed, knowing it meant that he would drink from your straw; the same straw your lips were just one. An indirect kiss? However, his pouty face, eyes large and lip jutted out, was too irresistible.

“Only if I can try yours too,” you compromised. His jutted lip quickly pulled back, an embarrassed smile appearing. His eyes turned away, fingers curling into his cup at the ends of his sleeves while contemplating. As a way to tease him, you waved the drink in front of his face, grinning. “Come on, Yongie. You know you want to drink it-”

You stopped, frozen, when he turned back towards you. In a flash, his lips were around the straw, a content smile hidden as he drank. The pink, icy beverage sank lower in the cup, Taeyong’s swallowing drop after drop. Your face was hot, watching his eyes close with delight, silently admiring the joy he expressed and the way he looked when he drank from your drink. His Adam’s Apple bobbed with each swallow, his cheeks turning pink with happiness and coldness that chilled his core. Hi own cup was hugged closer to him, sleeve-hidden hands clutching it tightly yet gracefully.

Finally swatting at him with your hand, he backed away with a happy sigh. “You drank so much! Why are you so mean, Taeyong?”

His face softened, his arm wrapping around your shoulders. Though his hand was covered, not in direct contact with you, and you were wearing a Gucci hoodie Taeyong gifted you for Christmas, his touch was nice, rubbing up and down your arm gently. Shockwaves ran through your body, goosebumps appearing along your limbs, a tingling sensation left over. His touch was soft and smooth, and you could only imagine what it would feel like to have his hand directly against your skin. Strong grip, but silky skin caressing your upper arm, fingertips dusting along your body…

Your focus returned to the man beside you when his velvety deep voice met your ear. “I’m sorry, Y/N. It’s just so sweet, especially after you drink some. I just couldn’t help myself,” he hummed with a smile. “Do you want a sip of mine now? It’s only fair.”

The drink was extended in your direction by his free hand, the straw pointing at your lips. You stared at it, rubbing your lips together. You had watched him drink from the very straw before you, and now you were offered a chance to share it with him. His drink was already half gone by the time you got to the bridge, just above the river, so if you didn’t act now, the chance would be gone.

With a short nod, you leaned forward, latching your lips around the straw and sucking. The sweet chocolate filled your cheeks, chunks of broken up chocolate chips flitting through the straw with the icy drink. Bits of whipped cream came up with the rest of the drink, giving a creamy lightness to the otherwise heavy beverage. Similar to Taeyong’s reaction, your eyes closed in delight, enjoying the drink he offered. A happy squeal escaped mid-sip, making Taeyong chuckle.

“Save some for me too!” he whined playfully. You pulled away from the drink, your tongue circling your slips to capture anything that escaped. Taeyong choked slightly, licking his own lips in response. His bottom lip was tugged between his lips, separating from your side. Both hands regripped the plastic between them, fingers toying with the sweat that dripped along the sides. “So, did you like it?”

“I did,” you told him, sipping your drink as if nothing happened. The red flush across your cheeks said something different than your actions.

“Which do you prefer?” he inquired.

“I liked them both. Though, I think the strawberry is my favorite.”

“Why’s that?”

You pondered for a moment before grinning madly. “Because you chose it for me,” you confessed. “And it’s sweet, just like you.”

His ears turned red, stomach churning, twisting into knots. He felt light on his feet as he bounced along the bridge, smiling into his straw. His heart worked double time, slamming against his ribs. “You’re the sweet one here, not me.”

“You’re full of it,” you laughed. Glancing at him, your head tilted slightly. “Why do you ask though?”

Taeyong smiled a bit. “That way I know what to get you all of the time when we go back to Korea.”

You didn’t get a chance to retort. He rushed forward, nestling himself between Yuta and Johnny, leaning back against the wall of the bridge. He drank his drink happily as Johnny narrated into his pv cam, the three joking at the passing boats on the river below. Your fingers aimlessly toyed with the straw in your cup, mixing the contents of the strawberry Frappuccino and the whipped cream together.

You weren’t needed in that moment. You were able to admire the man, eyes running up and down his body from afar. Just seeing him being himself on camera with two of his closest friends, sipping at a Starbucks drink, waving at random people while Yuta screamed Chicago - you were reminded why you adored this man. The crush you had was growing larger; you were falling deeper.

Placing the straw at your lips, you smiled to yourself. You’re the sweetest one here, Taeyong. And it’s just making it harder to deny how much I like you.

After the bridge came the John Hancock tower. Busy filing, you didn’t get a chance to talk to Taeyong again on a personal level. The Starbucks cups were discarded along the way, the three boys conversing as they admired the tall towers that disappeared into the clouds. You stared up at the building, paling at the height before you. The boys didn’t hear the shaky breath you released approaching the doors, your face hidden behind the camera.

Your nerves were eased by Taeyong’s silly actions, facing your camera as he rotated through the door to the tower. His voice could barely be heard, telling the world watching to ‘come in’ with him. But it didn’t stop you from being rattled, your body shaking as you followed Taeyong inside.

You were quiet while they got a pressed penny, unable to laugh when Johnny pranked Yuta, having it turn it before the coins were pushed in. You were distracted, glancing around carefully, not wanting to mess up the shot. Even when they stopped to take pictures with the green screen behind them, you were staring up the tower, biting the inside of your cheek.

The elevator was cramped, each ding of the floors making you heart race. The touch of a soft hand against yours made you jump, your head snapping to face Taeyong. Worry was written all over his face. His eyes were saddened, quivering unhappily. His lips were tugged south. His fingers wove through yours, giving your hand a gentle squeeze. Surely, your palms were sweaty. You were rubbing them on your jeans the entire time, and it didn’t ease anything. Yet, he didn’t care.

“Are you alright?” he whispered, barely loud enough for you to hear. “You look pale.”

“I-I’m fine,” you breathed, voice shaky. “I’m just…”

“You’re scared of heights?” he guessed. You nodded. “I could guess. You’ve been quiet since we arrived. Why didn’t you say anything?”

“I didn’t want to ruin your guys’ fun. This is your video, your trip, your tour.”

“It’s also yours,” he reminded you. The elevator shook, coming to a halt. Your eyes closed, nose flaring with a heavy breath. Your hand trembled in his, Taeyong frowning deeper. “It’s alright. I’m here for you. I won’t let anything happen to you.”

“It’s fine, Tae. Don’t worry about me-”

“I’ll always worry about you,” he shot. Your once panicked heart began racing with exhilaration. You dry swallowed, facing heating to a bright red. “I’ll be by your side the entire time.”

“What did I do to deserve you as a friend, Taeyong?”

Taeyong gave a bitter smile, biting his lip. The word ‘friend’ couldn’t hurt more. He pushed it back, leading you from the elevator last. “I should be asking how I got to meet a wonderful girl such as yourself.”

“You’re so cheesy.”

Taeyong respected your wishes to stay away from the windows, peering down several stories over the beautiful windy city. The clouds had mostly cleared up, giving an almost perfect view of the horizon, tall buildings expanding into the distance. Cars traveled up and down the highway, water splashing against the shore, a pastel blue reflecting the sun overhead.

The man stayed near your side as you walked through the building, Yuta joking that he was going to brag about the trip to the others that didn’t join you. You stayed out of the camera as they chatted happily, not wanting to ruin the video because of your insecurities and fears.

Approaching the tilt, the thing you dreaded the most, Taeyong snatched your camera from your hands, turning it on as he walked. You giggled at him, listening to him hum into the camera, making up a random beat. He waved at the lens, the ticket he had for the tilt in his hand.

“You’re a dork,” you mumbled.

“I know,” he grinned. “But, it made you laugh.”

You gaped at him, mouth open and closing a few times before they sealed shut. “You got me there.”

With a successful grin planted on his face, he recorded the tilt while passing by, in awe of the activity. Turning to you, the camera was lower, pointed at his feet. “Are you sure you don’t want to do this with us?”

“I’d rather not puke. Or pass out.”

Taeyong chuckled, shaking his head. “But, you’re already up here. This is our time to do it.” Rolling on the balls of his feet, his earrings swung against his ear lobes. One hand ruffled the strands available through his headband. His lips pursed in thought. “Well, I’ll be by your side the entire time. I will even hold your hand.”

“Taeyong…”

“Please?” he pleaded. “What do you say? Will you please your favorite Yongie?”

The desperation and puppy dog look make you giggle, taking a deep breath. “You’re the only Yongie in my life.”

He blinked. His head tilted cutely, trying to read through your words. “So… what does that mean?”

“Silly Yong,” you laughed. “You might lose circulation in your hand if I hold on to it. I’m bound to squeeze your hand to death. Are you alright with that?”

Taeyong’s lips twitched before grinning widely. “I can handle that,” he told you. His hand slipped into yours, holding your camera in the other. “Yongie to the rescue.”

Your legs felt weak walking into the tilt. Taeyong positioned your camera to film the entire thing, leading you to the glass edge. Giving your hand a gentle squeeze when he heard your breath hitch, he placed your hand on the metal bar with his. You had a death grip on the handle - his hand lost in that mix. Taeyong sent you a glance just before the floor moved, glass moving out to peer down at the city.

Ten degrees, twenty degrees, thirty degrees.

You breathed a sigh of relief when you walked out of the attraction still clinging to Taeyong’s hand. His hand was pure white and numb, but he didn’t dare to say anything as long as you were content. The subtle sway of your conjoined hands lifted his heart, watching you closely.

“I thought I was going to die,” you dramatically sighed. Your eyes were closed as you walked, one eye cracking open to see the stare Taeyong sent you. His question was readable. “It wasn’t as bad as I thought. Yes, I had a mild heart attack because looking down at the city scared the living daylights out of me. But, the view was amazing.”

“I’m glad you enjoyed it,” he hummed. The man turned to Johnny, taking his pv cam to talk. “You know, I thought I was not going to feel scared, but I got a bit tense.” He skipped ahead, emptiness shooting through you when his hand left yours He pointed at the experience photos, chuckling happily with his head back. “Look, everybody has pushed their hips back.”

Yuta began to talk in the background, Taeyong running to your side. “Sorry,” he told you.

“It’s fine. I’m glad you can add to the video. You make my job easier.”

Taeyong snorted at you, rolling his eyes. “Very funny.” He dug into his pocket, his other hand still holding the pv cam. “I meant to give this to you earlier. But we were a bit preoccupied.”

He produced a small pressed penny that read John Hancock Tower. You blinked at it, then at him. Your hand reached out slowly, trembling fingers taking the coin. “Taeyong…”

“After we did the first one, I asked Johnny if we could get another one for you. We all saw how distraught you looked, and I thought this would cheer you up. It’s also a nice gift that I can give to you so you can remember this trip.” He stared at you expectantly, sweating nervously. “Do you like it?”

“No,” you told him. The idol’s face fell, biting his lip. “I love it, Taeyong. This is very sweet of you. Thank you.”

“You don’t have to thank me.”

“But I do,” you confessed. “Honestly, Taeyong, thank you for everything. You’ve done so much for me even though I’m just a camera girl for your social media. I’m so glad I have you in my life.”

Taeyong blushed, cheerfully grinning. “I’m glad to have you in my life as well. It wouldn’t be the same without you,” he stated. Turning on his heel, he smirked at you, walking backwards as you moved. “We should get some gelato. Your treat, Y/N.”

“Wait, what?”

Taeyong hurried to the other boys, letting out a hardy snicker. “So now, we should go try Chicago’s specialty, gelato.” He paused, hollering loudly, knowing you would cut it out. “Y/N’s treat!”

“Aish. Lee Taeyong! Get back here!”

~

Moment Five: San Jose

It was to be expected the first thing you would hear when arriving at Pier 39 with Taeyong and Doyoung was Taeyong’s plea for his wallet. He claimed today was his treat and the first thing on his agenda?

Ice cream.

You shook your head, following behind them as they walked, snickering silently when Doyoung shot down his leader’s request for the sweets he enjoyed more than anything. It was questionable that Taeyong was the older of the duo seeing as he was a whining child, Doyoung mothering the mom of NCT by telling him he had to have a real meal first.

“Y/N,” Taeyong cried, hugging you around the waist from behind. Your steps felt awkward with the additional weight, and your body was smoldering, but you didn’t push him away. “Doyoung won’t get me ice cream because I forgot my wallet. Why is Doyoung so mean?”

“You should eat a proper meal though, Yongie.”

He whined louder in your ear, his chin on your shoulder. You wandered into a store, the man still clung to you. “But I wanted that waffle cone. And I wanted to buy you something pretty while we are here.”

You huffed, turning to face him. “No. Bad Yong. You have bought me enough!”

“But-”

“No. I will kick you.” Wiggling from his hug, you pushed against his back so he would head towards Doyoung. “Now, go film me a video. Make my job easier.”

Grumbling, Taeyong disappeared into the store, your filming partner tailing the two boys as they perused the shop. You started your own browsing, determined to find the perfect gift for the idol that gave you the world since arriving in the states. You wanted to treat him to something nice, seeing as he gave you gift after gift as a way to remember the tour and the time spent together.

Your eyes spotted it from afar, knowing instantly that he would enjoy it. The small glass bottle, reading San Francisco, had sand on the bottom, tiny shells of all colors filling the glass. It was corked shut, a braided tie around the neck of the bottle, a tiny starfish on the end. It was thoughtful, and you knew he would appreciate the decorative item for his room back at the dorms.

While you snuck off to buy the bottle, Taeyong and Doyoung fiddled with shells, Taeyong finally wandering to the baskets on the floor. “Woah,” he gasped out, grouching down to pick up the stuffed animals inside of it. His heart jumped at the saw shark, glancing at Doyoung. The camera was filming them still, catching what he said to the younger man.

“Yah! What is this?”

“It’s cute,” Doyoung said.

“I like it because it’s soft,” Taeyong murmured.

“It’s rare animal toys that couldn’t be found at the aquarium,” Doyoung joked. Taeyong looked at the younger expectantly.

“Buy this for me?” Taeyong asked, hugging the saw shark to his body.

“Ok,’ Doyoung agreed without hesitation.

With the camera not looking, Taeyong crouched to pick up a cute, white seal, equally as soft. “And this.”

“Why do you need two?” the junior questioned.

“One for me,” Taeyong told him, holding up the saw shark. “And one for Y/N.”

“You should just tell her.”

“I know,” Taeyong mumbled, smiling to his friend. “Maybe after I give her this.”

You met up outside, laughing when Taeyong held up his saw shark, his sunglasses on the plushie. You snapped a quick picture of him, laughing at the enthusiasm of the idol. “This is what you can only get in San Francisco,” Doyoung joked, standing at Taeyong’s side.

“You guys look like you had fun,” you teased.

“He’s so soft!” Taeyong cheered, holding him out towards you. The stuffed animal was, indeed, soft to the touch, smooth under the tips of your fingers.

“He’s cute,” you laughed, earning a grin. You began to walk away from the first shop, following Doyoung through the pier - ironically in the direction of a sweets shop. You walked beside the leader of the idol group, gripping the plastic bag from the gift shop tightly in your hands. Racking your brain for how to bring it up, you decided it was best to tell him outright. “Yongie, I have a present for you.”

“What?” he asked, hugging his saw shark close. The bag in your hands was extended towards him, Taeyong’s eyes locked on the bag. “What’s this?”

“Just a little something I got for you. I wanted to get you something to remember this trip by. San Jose is your city, so it’s just a little gift to make your city the best.”

Taeyong smiled, cheeks pink. “You didn’t have to,” he told you, handing you the saw shark so he could open the bag. His face lit up, excited to see the small shell bottle inside. He made a noise of awe, examining it. “Look how pretty they are!”

“I figured you’d like it in your room back home,” you told him.

“It’ll go right by my bed in the dorms so I can see the prettiest view every day when I wake up,” he mused. “Thank you. I love it.”

“I’m glad,” you laughed.

Taeyong spun his background around, placing the bottle carefully in his pack. He paused, forehead knit briefly, staring at the main zipper of his backpack. “Y/N?” he voiced, earning a confused stare.

“What’s up?” you asked. “Why are you staring at your bag like that?”

“Would you kill me if I said I bought you something?” He stopped talking, correcting himself. “Well, Doyoung bought it, but I’m going to pay him back.”

“Taeyong, you didn’t,” you whined. “I told you not to!”

“I had to!” he said, opening his bag. Your eyes lit up at the seal inside, immediately beginning to bounce. “It was so cute and I knew you would love it.”

“For once, I accept this,” you laughed, trading him his saw shark for the seal. “It’s so soft, Yongie! I love it so much!”

“I’m glad,” Taeyong breathed. “I love making you happy.”

Your blush was cut short, Doyoung calling out to you. “Hurry up, or I’m not buying you sweets!”

“No! I want the chocolate!” Taeyong screeched, running towards his friend. You snickered, following them, filming as they bought the chocolate treats. Taeyong bounced in his spot, pointing at the different treats in the display, ordering multiple pieces of the same.

“Two white chocolate… two truffle…” he paused, his hand rising to his chin, rubbing it aimlessly.at his sharp jawline. His eyes narrow, focused on the variety of sugary delights through glass. He was practically salivating, ordering more without hesitation. “Two giant milk. And two milk English toffee.”

The definition ‘like a kid in a candy store’ was not an exaggeration with Taeyong. You could see his glee from a mile away, wide smile, bright eyes, joyous laughter.

Pointing your camera in his direction as he received his container of chocolates, he gaped in your direction, mouth wide like he was shocked, or maybe a deer in the headlights, caught robbing the sweets shop. He pointed his saw shark your way, giving a quick wink before following Doyoung to pay.

The camera kept on him, watching him take out the white chocolate bar that he had requested. One bite, one low crunch of the dessert, made him groan happily, head falling back in bliss. His darkly gorgeous eyes slid shut, relishing in the sugar that melted on his taste buds. His sharp jaw moved smoothly as he chewed, lips parted when he swallowed. He released a heavenly sigh, immediately delving back into his bag of treats for another.

“You look like you are enjoying those,” came your teasing remark. The man paused, nearly choking on his food. Reaching over, you pat him on his back, coaxing him to breath. “Calm yourself, hotshot.”

“Sorry,” he chuckled. The bag of his treats was extended your way, your footsteps falling in line as you walked down the pier. “I bought some for you too, you know. I thought you’d enjoy them.”

“Is that why you bought two of everything?” you inquired. Taeyong chuckled, nodding wordlessly. “I just thought you really wanted those chocolates. We know how much you love them.”

“I’m offended,” he pouted, taking the chocolate truffle and popping it in his mouth. You joined him, taking the truffle he ordered for you, popping it onto your tongue. A squeal of joy left your throat, hugging the seal closer to you. Taeyong laughed openly, speaking up, “Now who is enjoying it?”

“Shut up,” you managed to get out, words muffled by the food between your cheeks. With your cheeks puffed out, Taeyong mentioned that you looked like a squirrel, leaving you flustered while heading to Doyoung’s side, asking him for more treats.

The pier with the two boys was entertaining, though you felt like you were about to be blown away. The wind picked up partway through the day, your hair whipping around you, smacking you in the face. The closer you got to the bay, away from the buildings, the wind got stronger. You had to cling to your seal, realizing just how difficult it was to hold a camera, snuggle a stuffed animal and battle the gusts at the same time. The camera almost fell from your hands a few times when a powerful burst of air hit you, blinding you because your hair covered your face.

The wind did make the boys more attractive. They posed for pictures in front of a carousel and in front of the bay, leaning against the wooden railings. Doyoung relaxed with the cool wind blowing against him, his newly acquired California jacket adding to his aesthetic. Taeyong looked, in one word, breathtaking. The breeze made his hair flop around against his forehead, casting a shadow over his eyes. Yet, the orbs were bright like the sun above your head. Though he didn’t smile, his pink lips straight, the angle of his looks were beyond phenomenal. His blue jacket and checkered flannel blew around against his waist. And in the middle of filming, he would stick another treat he was bought into his mouth, chewing while staring into the distance.

Across the bay was Alcatraz, the two idols discussing the historical prison on camera. And as soon as they were done, Doyoung excused himself for a quick trip to the bathroom. You nodded at the male, placing your camera in your bag for the time being. Your feet moved on their own, carrying you towards the man who leaned against the railing, watching the water roll by in soft, rippling waves. The water splashed against the legs of the pier that kept the deck upright. His eyes were transfixed on the way the water lulled with the wind, relaxing under the California sun.

He spoke the moment he felt your presence at his side, never tearing his eyes from the bay. “The next time we come here, I want to go to the place out there. I think it’ll be cool.”

“Bold of you to assume we will be coming back,” you joked.

Taeyong chuckled, finally turning to look at you. His hair flopped around with the wind, but it didn’t ruin the way he looked. His cheeks flushed a pale pink. “I know we will come back,” he voiced. “And if not on tour, then I want to come back here with you. Just so we can explore that place.”

You blushed in return, nodding at his wish. “Well, I look forward to it then,” you told him. The man smiled, sidling towards you until you were right up against him, a comfortable silence heavy over you. Smoothly, his arm wrapped around you, daring to hold you close to him. His fingers gently ran along your sides, giving you goosebumps. Your body tingled, the warmth of his body allowing you to sink into him. Your head rested on his shoulder, content with the position you found yourself in.

Short lived, it was. Doyoung returned, your forms parting reluctantly. You followed after them as they wandered down the windy pier until they took off running, the sound of barking seals piquing your interest. You ran after them, chuckling at the way they laughed at the dozens of seals floating on wood pallets in the bay. Taeyong joking imitated them, barking like they would. Their cheer amplified when a boat passed with a seal on the back, Taeyong waving at them happily.

“The seals are so cute. I want to touch them,” Taeyong said into your camera, though it felt like he was telling that to you. He stared through your lens at you, a grin present while snacking on his back of treats.

“You want to hug mine?” you taunted.

Taeyong pondered before smirking, pushing your camera away. His arms wrapped around your waist, hugging you close. His face buried in your neck, inhaling deeply. You were frozen, shocked and flustered.

“I don’t need a cute seal when I have a cute girl to hug,” he whispered deeply.

“Taeyong…”

“Guys, let’s go. We are going to get food at Boudin,” Doyoung called.

Taeyong was slow to back away, the tips of his ears red. “Let’s go get food,” he told you, taking your hand, dragging you away from the seals that watched you retreat.

The seals knew that you were sinking deep into Taeyong’s palm, unable to escape.

To end the day, you stopped by a small farmers market with fresh fruit. Taeyong grabbed some cherries, humming Cherry Bomb as he did. The two idols joked around while looking at all the fruit, the day beginning to wrap up slowly. They picked up random things and wondered what it was, Taeyong wanting everything he saw.

“Should we buy something for your kids?” Doyoung asked, sending Taeyong a knowing smirk, eyes darting between you and his leader. Your head cocked to the side, confused, whereas Taeyong flushed.

“Your kids?” you asked Doyoung.

“Yeah. You know,” he began. “Yours and-”

“Taeyong covered Doyoung’s mouth quickly shaking his head. “He means our kids!” Taeyong covered quickly, nervously laughing. The hand that was over Doyoung’s mouth was pulled away seconds later, Taeyong grimacing. “He licked me!”

“That’s what you get,” Doyoung said, sassily turning away, savage as ever. You sighed, grabbing hand sanitizer for the idol. “Fine. Should we buy something for our kids?”

“Pineapple!” Taeyong hollered, bowing slightly at you before following Doyoung. “Pineapple!”

When Doyoung headed off to pay, Taeyong in toe with his new treat, you found a bench to rest at, scrolling through the pictures and videos taken throughout the day. The memories were fresh but seeing the things you captured gave you joy. You knew the fans would love what you have.

The sound of footsteps, and the uttering of the rap from Regular sounding through the air, the voice deep and silky on your ears, made you glance up. Taeyong plopped onto the bench next to you, carefully putting the pv cam he was holding down in his lap. His coffee was placed between you. Opening the bag of cherries that was bought, he held one out towards you, held between two slender fingers.

“Say ‘ah’,” he hummed.

You did as he said, reddening when his fingers touched your lips. The sweet cherry slid between your parted lips. The juices wet your parched throat, the pit spit into a napkin he offered. Taeyong beamed at the joyful noise you let out, popping his own cherry into his mouth.

“So good,” you sang, swaying back and forth. “Thank you, Yongie.”

“No, thank you,” he said. “Thank you for coming and putting together the amazing things you do for us and the NCTzens. I’m glad we could come here together.”

“I’m glad I got this opportunity,” you told him. “I wouldn’t trade this for anything.”

“That’s good to hear,” he murmured. Taeyong smiled, toying with the bag of cherries. He was glad to have you by his side. Sliding closer to you, his hand found yours, lacing your fingers together. “Best first tour ever, all thanks to you.”

“You’re too sweet,” you whispered, reaching over to take a cherry. Placing it at his lips, you gave him a wink. “Just like these cherries.”

~

Moment Six: Los Angeles - James Corden

You sat on your laptop, editing together film that was long overdue to be uploaded to YouTube. The holding room was quiet, the boys having just left for their first segment with James Corden. Occasionally, you glanced at the TV in the room, waiting for them to be announced.

“Welcome back!” James’ voice boomed. The second his accent hit your ears, you slammed your laptop shut, placing it on the table in front of you. Settling back into the plush couch, you sipped at the water bottle Taeyong insisted you drink so you wouldn’t get dehydrated, smiling at the adorable group of boys you spent years with. They looked excited to be around the late-night talk show host, their first time on the Late Late Show. “I’m joined by Haechan, Taeil, Jaehyun, Doyoung, Johnny, Mark, Yuta, Taeyong and Jungwoo, known together as NCT 127!”

Though the noise couldn’t be heard by anyone but yourself, you cheered happily, raising the bottle with a shout. “Whoo! You go guys!” You knew just how excited they were to perform, premiering Superhuman for the first time outside of the concerts. They had been giddy fanboys since waking up that morning, barely able to sit still so you could take pictures of them around the lot and with James and the other guests.

“Now, it’s a fact that NCT 127 are very cool on the surface. We’re going to test their steel nerves in a game we call flinch.”

You snickered when James announced that - partly because you knew the segment, having seen other celebrities do it, including fellow kpop ground BTS and Blackpink, and you found it hysterical to see people flail at the flying fruit; and partly because of Taeyong’s joyous reaction, bouncing between his feet and he cheered, readying himself for the game.

You figured this would end badly as soon as the word flinch was mentioned. You knew these boys - you knew they were generally weak willed, even if they claimed to love horror. They were soft boys, caring to the core. The slightly thing would make them jump. Yet, you were excited to see their reaction, knowing you could hold it against them for eternity.

Mark, Taeil and Haechan were a fail. Their dance didn’t help them when the fruit smashed to the glass, the three jerking to a halt, eyes wide and jaws dropped. Mark, the cheeky man he was, tried to play it off when he knew, deep down, he had failed horribly.

Yuta, Johnny and Jungwoo was worse. The three boys looked tense, Yuta and Jungwoo crying that they were scared. Johnny held a tight smile, the strength and reserve he had easily shot down by his crackling voice. His words were unconvincing, and you knew he was shaking just as much as Jungwoo was. The nervous laughter and smile were a facade that didn’t do well to cover his fear. Johnny went flying backwards when the fruit hit, Jungwoo shocked and Yuta hugging himself while laughing.

You found yourself laughing the hardest at Taeyong Doyoung and Jaehyun. You were laughing to the point of tears coming to your eyes, your hand covering your mouth to stifle the sounds. Though Taeyong was adorably rambling beforehand, stuttering out responses in English was made you smile, he went sailing back, landing on the ground. The apple hit the glass just after James started questioning them about their stay in America and Canada. Taeyong went to answer, distracted by his words, that he was sent tumbling down to the ground. He flinched backwards heavily, Doyoung and Jaehyun unphased as their leader landed on the floor.

Dragging himself to his feet, Taeyong walked away from the others briefly, back to the camera. When he turned around, that’s when you broke into complete hysterics, falling over on the couch. His hand was over his heart, eyes squeezed together. He looked like he was in pain, blinking his dark eyes open with a heavy breath.

You tried to calm down before they returned, sitting back onto the couch, legs tucked under you. Your calmness disappeared when the door opened, the distraught guys walking in - apart from Doyoung, who looked smug at his victory. They sent you a glare when you snickered at them, hiding your face in your arm on the back of the couch.

“Did you guys have fun?” you asked. They all give bitter laughs, dispersing to different areas to relax. “I will take that as a yes because I know you guys enjoyed yourself, even when failing miserably.”

Taeyong trudged over to you, dropping on the couch with you. His head laid in your lap, his arm draped across his eyes so you couldn’t see them. His chest still heaved from his prior fright. Instinctively, your fingers ran through his hair, nails scratching soothingly at his scalp. You saw his lips part, exhaling with the calmness you provided.

“I did so bad,” he mumbled, whining lowly. “I can’t believe I fell.”

You laughed slightly, Taeyong lowering his arm slightly to peer at you.

“Don’t laugh at me.”

“I don’t mean to, Yongie,” you told him through your chuckles. His lip stuck out with a pout, hiding his beautiful orbs away again. “Come on, Yong. Did you at least have fun?”

“Yeah, I guess so,” he mumbled.

“Then that’s what matters, you reassured him. “I’m sure I would have done the same, honestly. If not worse.”

“We can ask James if you can do it too.”

Shaking you head, your heart jumped at the same he gave you. “I think I’m good without having a heart attack today. I need to stay alive long enough to finish this video for your YouTube.”

“Can I see it?” Taeyong asked, removing his arm so both rested on his stomach, rising and falling with the steadying breaths.

“It’s still a work in progress.”

“That’s fine,” he said. “I know it’ll be good in the end anyway. You always do amazing work for us. You get our best angles every time.”

“You’re being cheesy again,” you teased.

Taeyong hummed quietly, letting his eyes drift closed. Despite his request to see the video you were working on, he didn’t make an attempt to move, relaxing into your touch. He was like a cat that loved being pet, loving the feeling of your hand running through his hair carefully so it didn’t get messed up before the performance. Your touch was tender, and it made the butterflies inside him flutter restlessly.

“You know,” he whispered lowly. You barely heard him speak up. “I’m glad you are here.”

“Why’s that?”

“My heart stopped today because of the flinch game,” Taeyong told you. His eyes opened twinkling when they met yours. “But, I have an angel in my midst that was able to restart it. You made my heart beat again.”

You were beet red.

“Thanks for coming and saving me.”

Though exaggerating, you couldn’t help but smile at his cheesy words. The flirtatious look and message portrayed made your stomach churn with bliss. Any question a month ago that Taeyong was flirting was fully obvious now. He wasn’t holding back anything.  

“Well, I’m glad I could be here to save you,” you told him. “I would hate to see a handsome man such as yourself die to a fruit. What would I do with myself?”

“You could have kissed the pain away,” he said.

With a red-hot blush across your cheeks, you giggled, deterring your gaze from the sultry look he gave. Your heart was thudding, beating off the charts. You debated what to say, finally coming down to three words:

“Maybe next time,”

“That’s too bad,” Taeyong said, sitting up from your lap. “Hopefully next time is soon.”

They were called back to set, leaving you alone in the room. A shaky breath escaped your mouth, your body collapsing against the cushions. Your hand rested over your heart, feeling how fast it was pounding inside you. You felt warm, thoughts of the man running through your made keeping your skin crawling and your stomach smoldering.

“The things you do to me, Lee Taeyong.”

~

Moment Seven: Los Angeles - Dodgers Game

The sky was clear, little clouds present. The crowd roared in the stands. The grass under your feet was green, freshly cut, the white letters with blue outline imprinted before you. The camera focused on the announcer that stood surrounded by nine fun loving boys, their arms raised to the sky, hooting and hollering ecstatically. Their faces shown on the big screens overlooking the field, their bright smiles giving cheer to the people of Los Angeles.

You stood behind the official cameras of the Dodgers, snapping photos as they were introduced. You caught their grins, you caught their laughs, you caught the happiness they spread just by being there. With their Dodger 127 jerseys dangling from their bodies, buttoned up tight, their names printed on the back, they looked like they were ready for the pitch they were about to partake in. Around

“You guys are nervous. I’m nervous right here. We’re here with NCT 127!”

That prompted their greeting, Taeyong prompting them to start. You grinned when you caught it on camera, even though they were bouncing around aimlessly.

The announcer proceeded to ask how they were feeling about being there, in which Mark answered how grateful they were for the opportunity, and what their favorite part of the US tour had been, to which Johnny promptly responded their interactions with the fan. You didn’t miss the gaze that Taeyong sent you at that question, his eyes revealing his personal answer: spending time with you. Johnny told everyone in Dodger Stadium the theme of the new Superhuman album just before Mark revealed the groups love and endless desire for In n Out.

You couldn’t disagree though. The first time they dragged you in, Taeyong bought you an animal style double double with animal fries and you were on cloud nine from the first bite.

As soon as the mini interview ended, you got some pictures of the boys with the LA logo printed in the grass, the men crowding around the two letters. The boys decided to selfie, and you caught that - Taeyong making a silly face while holding out his phone, everyone crouched to get in the frame. You also managed to get one of the group crowded around the top of the letters. You were laid in the grass to get the angle you desired, panning up the LA logo to the men, clear skies stretching out behind them.

Taeyong rushed over to you, extending a hand to help you up. His strength was impressive, yanking you up hard enough so you crashed into his chest. Together, you stumbled back, a unison of laughter resounding through the air. He helped to wipe off the grass from your back, picking blades of green from your hair. You made a face at him when he waved on against your nose, the idol backing away quickly to join the others. Fixing the tan colored hat atop his head that covered his dark strands of hair, he stood in a line with the rest of his group.

As they were introduced for the pitch, you shot pictures of them from all angles, catching them waving at the crowd. Cheery Bomb played through the speakers, prompting them - mostly Taeyong - to dance in the middle of the field. Four baseballs sat in the hands of four boys: Taeyong, Mark, Yuta and Jaehyun. The five boys not throwing stood off to the side, encouraging their fellow members to do their best, screaming ‘fighting’ at the top of their lungs. The four boys pitching bound off towards the mound, a pep in the step - none more than Taeyong, of course, who threw his hands up and he bounced forward.

It was a sight you would never forget. The four boys standing at the pitcher’s mound, four catchers huddled at home base. Four balls being throw in sync, flying through the air towards their respective catcher. The way their knees pulled back before they lurched forward, sending the balls sailing through the air. You caught it all on camera, immortalizing their smiles, their throws, and their excitement.

After thanking the catchers, the boys filed out of the field, you following behind them. You placed your camera in your bag, smiling already when you felt his presence beside you. “Nice throw, hotshot,” you teased, sealing your bag. Glancing up, you met Taeyong’s gaze, the man playfully messing with the ball he was allowed to keep in his hand. It sat in a small display case that was cradled in his palms, rolled between each hand.

“I try,” he joked. He turned to walk backwards never tearing his eyes from you. “So, you’re going to stay with us and watch the game, right?”

Your brow rose, nodding unsurely. “Of course. Why wouldn’t I?”

“Just checking,” he hummed. His lips rubbed together in thought, playing with the rim of his hat. “Can you do me a favor?”

This confused you even more. “Of course. What’s up?”

“Can you not work tonight?” he asked. Your jaw dropped, unsure how to respond. “Like, keep your camera put away. Don’t take pictures. Don’t worry about filming us while we are here. If the fans want pictures, we can handle them ourselves.”

“I… But why?” you asked.

He stopped walking, making you halt as well. “I want you to enjoy the game with us. I don’t want you to work through it. I want you to laugh and have fun. I want you to eat those famous Dodger dogs with us. I just…” He stopped, biting his tongue. “I want to enjoy this time with you without worrying about work.”

You stared at him, seeing his eyes quiver. His hands rang together around the ball, eager for your response. Finally, you nodded at him, adjusting the strap of your bag. “Alright. I’ll do it for you, Tae. But if I get in trouble for this-”

“You won’t,” he promised.

“I’ll hold you to that,” you laughed. “Now, you go buy me a hotdog. I need to run to the bathroom first. I will meet you up in the booth.”

“Deal,” he chuckled.

He rushed off, taking your bag with him. Once alone, you didn’t head to the bathroom as you had said. You wanted to surprise the boys, adding to their new collection of Dodger items. Stopping by a gift shop, you practically cleaned them out of dodger hats, buying nine blue hats with the white LA logo on it. The cashier looked at you like you were crazy, but you explained they were for your friends.

With a new dent in your wallet, you rushed to the private booth that was reserved for NCT, flashing your id badge to get let in. The boys cheered upon your arrival, faces stuffed with hot dogs. Soda cups were lined in the seats, decorated with Dodger logos, straws stuck through the plastic lids. The bags sat in a corner, away from the mess of bodies leaning against the rail to watch the start of the baseball game.

Taeyong ushered you over with the wave of a hand, a toothy smile on his face. You greeted him with a smile and wave, gripping the gift bag in your hands as you rushed to take you seat beside him. Taeyong bit into his own hotdog, watching you sit down. His eyes fell to the bag, tilting his head curiously.

“I thought you went to the bathroom,” he pointed out. “Do they sell things in the bathroom here?”

“Would you be mad if I said I lied?” you questioned, taking the hotdog he had in his hand.

“Of course not,” he chuckled. “So, what did you end up getting?”

“Presents,” you laughed. With the hotdog in your lap, you opened the bag, pulling out the first Dodgers hat. Reaching out, you pulled the tan hat off of Taeyong’s head. Your hand ruffled his hair briefly, fixing the strands that had morphed to his head. The man shook his head as well, whipping his hair around. The previous hat was replaced with the blue one, your fingers parting the pieces that stuck out. “There. Perfect.”

Taeyong smiled, taking his phone to check himself. He leaned closer to you, giving a victory sign while snapping a quick photo. “I love it,” he told you. “Thank you.”

“I’m glad,” you laughed.

“Wah! I want a hat too, noona!” Haechan cried, reaching over Taeyong to try and reach you. Taeyong rolled his eyes at the younger boy, shoving him lightly. “What about me?”

“I could never forget you, Haechannie,” you giggled, pulling out another hat. “Because I bought one for all of you.”

The boys cheered, running in your direction. You distributed the hats, watching them place them on their heads, some facing forward and some turned backwards. The boys looked content with their gifts, each one giving you thank you’s.

Taeyong pouted, munching on his hotdog. “I feel less special now.”

“Don’t be jealous, Yong,” you scolded. “You got the first one.”

“I guess,” he pouted.

“That’s not enough for you?” you asked, poking his cheek. The man rolled his eyes, turning away to show he was upset. “Fine, I will keep this other gift I got you.”

“What?” he quickly asked, turning back to you.

You held up a keychain you grabbed at the last minute, reading ‘LA Dodgers’. “It’s small, but I know you like making memories. And,” you turned the keychain around, showing the small scribble of your initials with his familiar TY, “The cashier had a sharpie, so I customized it so you would remember we were here together.”

The man smiled, taking it from your hand. “I love it. Thanks, Y/N.”

You grinned, settling into your seat, unwrapping your hotdog. “You’re welcome, Yong.”

Watching the game, the boys got rowdy. There was no alcohol present; no, just sugary drinks and candy that made the group of idols rambunctious. They screamed and cheered for the Dodgers, playfully shoving at each other the way boys do when they get excited. Their arms wrapped around each other as laughs were shared and pictures were taken to commemorate the day.

Taeyong was the calmest, and even he had his points. He would jump up from his seat, clapping energetically when a player would run the bases. His angelic laughs made you smile, and the amusement on his features made your stomach flutter. The man was having the time of his life, enjoying the downtime he was granted for once since arriving in the states.

The crack of the bat against the fast ball resonated through the stadium, all nine boys jumping to their feet at the ball flying. Taylor doubled, Seagar headed to third with the powerful hit. The event caused the boys to celebrate. Even if no points were scored.

Their fun quickly halted when Doyoung shoved Jungwoo, screaming about what had occurred. The non-threatening act was more powerful than anticipated, or Jungwoo just slipped; you weren't really sure. All you knew was the drink in his hand was spilt over your head when he crashed into the side of the seats, catching himself on the edge but forfeiting his beverage.

You shivered, droplets of clear soda drinking down your hair and face. Ice was laced in your locks, the frozen chips landing on your shoulder and some disappearing down your shirt. The top of your jeans were wet, turning a dark blue. Your jaw dropped, all eyes glued to you. They gaped, dropping what they were doing to rush to your aid.

"Noona, I'm so sorry!" Jungwoo cried, his cup dropped immediately to the floor, forgotten. He looked guilt ridden, frowning unhappily.

"It's fine, Jungwoo," you tried to reassure him. "Accidents happen."

"But I feel so bad," he uttered lowly, voice melancholic. "I don't want to be the reason you aren’t having fun. I ruined your day, noona."

"You didn't! I promise," you told him once more. "It's just a drink. It'll dry."

When the boy didn't look convinced, you reached out, patting his head the gesture seemed to ease him slightly, a pitiful twitch if the lips resembling a smile appearing. Walking away, the boy slumped in his seat, defeated. The remaining boys followed suit, sitting in their own seats.

Tail had rushed to get you a towel, a Dodgers towel from the gift shop supplied to help you dry off. Using it to wring out your hair and pat down your drenched arms, you turned to face the boys, giving them a calm grin.

"Guys, really. It's ok. Please don't let this ruin the game for you. I much prefer watching you guys cheer and have fun over sulking at a little soda spilled," you told them. "I am fine, I promise. And if you still feel bad, then do me this to make up for it: cheer as loud as you can and give the Dodgers the same support they gave you."

The guys agreed, almost reluctantly. The energy was going to be slow to return, but you knew they would be hopping off the walls in no time, enjoying the game as if nothing had happened.

Taeyong, sat by your side, eyed you silently. He watched you dry yourself with the towel, patting yourself until the droplets were mostly gone. The only evidence of the spill was your hair, droplets still dripping from the ends occasionally, and your wet clothes.

His eyes lingered, burning into the side of you, until he promptly began to unbutton his new Dodger 127 jersey. You gave him an odd look, wondering what he was, until he held it in your direction. Glancing between the shirt in his hand and his face, he saw the question churning in your mind.

"You'll catch a cold," he told you briefly, pale pink spreading across his beautiful face. "You're shivering."

"Oh. I'll be fine-"

"Also, um…" he cut you off. His hand gestured to his own chest, trying to convey without saying it aloud. Blinking, you glanced down at yourself, flushing upon realization that you had worn a white shirt that was now, thanks to the drink you were doused in, made the shirt see through.

"Oh!" You squeaked, using one arm to cover your chest. Taking his shirt, you turned away, sliding the loose material onto your arms. It was warm thanks to the man, and smelled faintly of him, though he hadn't been wearing it for that long. "Thanks."

"No problem," he responded, choking on his words.

"You should have said something sooner," you huffed. "Now all the guys have seen my bra through this shirt."

"Pretty sure they didn't notice. They were too distracted helping you to stare at your chest."

"Are you saying you were staring, Yong?" You teased. The idol leader blushed brightly, sputtering nonsensical words that only made you laugh. "I'm just pulling your leg. I appreciate the help."

Taeyong smiled, shaking his head. He pleaded on the arm rest that separated your seats, dragging his hand through your wet hair. You eased into his touch, a content sigh escaping your lips. His hand stealthily slid into yours between you, placing your fingers together.

"Anything for you," he whispered.

You blushed at his words, nudging him with your shoulder. But the smile on your face was enough to make him elated. He grinned, pulling the hat off his head and playfully sticking it on your head. You were left groaning, trying to adjust the hat that he tugged down, your free hand swatting at him. Nothing broken the hold you had on each other.

That night, you were left thinking about one specific moment. The memory replayed so vividly, even if it had been hours since it happened.

The moment that everyone was waiting for came on. The kiss cam. You had seen it on TV before, but watching the camera panning over the people in the stands, prompting them to smooch their significant other, was better in person in your opinion.

Desperation set in with the boys. Haechan and Jungwoo screamed, wanting to be on the big screen. They were willing to do anything - even wrapping their arms around their dear oldest member. Taeil was trapped between the two boys whom tried to kiss his cheek, their eyes watching the screen to see if they were on it. Johnny, Mark, Doyoung, Yuta, Jaehyun watched their actions, laughing loudly. Mark was falling from his seat with how hard he was chuckling.

With them distracted, they didn't catch the moment that plagued your every thought now. And not just them- but everyone. The kiss cam never spotted you, but the warmth of lips on your cheek was enough to jumpstart your heart. Taeyong gave you hand a squeeze before leaning across the seats, placing a gentle kiss to your cheek. His lips were soft, brushing your skin carefully and slowly. Your face tingled from the connection, his lips lingering longer than they should. Not that you minded. The way they caressed your skin made you giddy.

He backed away slowly, giving you an embarrassed smile. His thumb swapped across the back of your hand, causing the butterflies to rampage within you.

You did something you never thought you'd do. Leaning over, you returned the gesture with your own. A kiss was placed on his cheek. Dangerously close to his lips. You grazed the corner, feeling them twitch north with an unmistakable grin. His eyes fluttered close, his head falling to stare towards his feet.

When you pulled away, neither of you said anything. He just pulled your joined hands into his lap, giving your hand a squeeze. The game below you resumed, the kiss never brought up again.

~

Moment of Truth: Vancouver

The man sat in his hotel room alone, staring at his phone. He gave a lopsided smile, fingers fiddling together. "I can't sleep because I'm a bit jetlagged. And I have this hotel room to myself for once. It's a bit odd since this is the first time we got our own rooms."

Unable to sleep after arriving in Vancouver, Canada. Taeyong decided to pass the time by doing a late-night v-live. He wasn't sure what to discuss; it was an impromptu video since he didn't know what else to do to get himself to relax, hopefully draining the last of his energy. He mostly responded the questions that came up on the live, though he did a handful of mother things to pass the hour: showing off his saw shark, giving them a tour of his solo hotel room, and even eating the muffin you had gotten for him as a midnight snack.

After changing into his pajamas, throwing a robe on to cover his shirtless torso, he returned to his vlive, collapsing in his bed. His face was clean of any make up he had been covered in during the day, his hair was unruly and minimal bags were present under his eyes. But he continued to talk to his fans, thanking them for support because without them, he wouldn't be where he is.

With the end of the vlive, the idol sighed, dropping his phone in the bed beside him. He rolled onto his side, staring at the black screen aimlessly. Without someone else in the room with him, he felt alone. He was so used to having someone there to talk to until he fell asleep. At home and on tour, he always had a roommate. This was a rare occasion that he was alone, and the silence was beginning to drive him insane.

The television did not help. He couldn't understand the programs fully. His English wasn't the best, so the shows did little to distract him. The bed felt cold. The room felt too big. He tried to snuggle the saw shark, but the soft animal was nothing right now.

He sighed, rolling around in the sheets until he faced his phone again. His lips pursed, brow scrunching. His fingers itched, reaching forward and pressing facetime without knowing why.

The phone rang a couple of times. The clock read some time after one am. Guilt punched him in the gut when he realized that he was probably disturbing someone's sleep. His thumb hovered over the end button, but never got the chance to press it.

"Tae?" You asked from the other end, tilting your head when he appeared on camera. You were curled up in your bed, but you were wide awake. His heart raced, seeing you in just a loose tank top, covered by blankets, with hair messy and face free to cosmetics. "Why are you calling this late? Why aren't you sleeping?"

"I couldn't sleep," he admitted.

"Jet lag?"

"Jet lag." He ran a hand through his hair and over his face, biting his lip. "Would you…"

You blinked, curiosity bubbling when he stopped talking. "Would I what?"

"Never mind," he quickly spat. "It’s stupid. It's late and I shouldn't have called. You're probably tired and I'm disturbing your sleep-"

"I couldn't sleep," you told him. "I was reading this book my sister bought be before the trip to try and doze off, but I haven't been able to."

Taeyong smiled. "Jet lag?"

The joke made you laugh. "Jet lag."

The man began to hum the song on his end, their new track called jetlag coming from his lips. Mid sing, he stopped, spitting that he originally wanted to. "Would you come keep me company?"

You were taken aback. But, you agreed, kicking off the sheets that covered you. Taeyong chuckled as he watched the camera shuffle around, staring at the ceiling as you rushed from the bed. It was propped on the counter so he could watch you dig through your suitcase for your Gucci hoodie.

The man snuggled into his pillows, noting the way your tank top rose against your hips when your arms rose to pull the hoodie over your head. You tugged socks onto your feet, rushing to the bathroom to throw your hair up, keeping it from your face. Taeyong shameless stared at your backside as you walked around your hotel room, starry pajama pants hugging your waist.

"Alright. I'm headed over. See you in a minute."

The call ended, Taeyong letting out a heavy sigh. His face hurt from smiling, and his stomach felt tight. He was nervous to think you'd be coming over to his hotel room. He was nervous to think you'd be alone. This was a first for him. He worried that he didn't look good because of the late hour. He worried that his hotel room was a messy - which it wasn't with his cleaning habits. His hand ran through his mess of hair, lips flapping with another heavy sigh.

He jumped when he heard a soft knock on the door. Wiping his sweaty palm on the side of his robe, he opened the door, facing you. You smiled, your hands stuffed in the pockets of the hoodie. You lacked shoes, having wandered down the barren hallway to his room. Under your arms was the small white seal plush he had gotten you in San Francisco

Moving aside, he let you in, shutting and latching the door. You shuffled into his room, immediately collapsing on his bed. Taeyong laughed at you, sitting on the edge of the mattress.

"What do you want to do?" You asked, hugging the self, snatching his saw shark as well. Taeyong hummed, finally laying back on the bed next to you, his head on his pillows. He fiddled with his phone, the low hum or Post Malone coming through the speaker. It was placed to his side, the music filling the silent room.

"Can we just lay here?" He asked. "Just being here with you helps me relax."

"I can't argue with that," you told him, rolling onto your side.

You curled into his side, Taeyong extending an arm across the pillows for your head to rest on. Your legs ended up tangled together, yours strewn across his long limbs, sock covered feet rubbing together. His hand ran through your hair, your hair band plugged away with a snap of the wrist, soothing you with the gentle strokes.

Laying together, you just listened to the songs play one by one. You didn't fall asleep to it - you just nestled into the man beside you, inhaling his fresh scent. You heard him hum along to the music, moving to place your head on his chest instead. His heart was beating quickly, the constant thump-thump, thump-thump in quick successions ringing in your ears.

"Tae," you uttered. He made of noise of acknowledgement, pausing his music. "Will you sing for me?"

"What?" He asked. "Why?"

"I like hearing you sing. And I want to hear it now. Please, Tae?"

You glanced upbeat him with a pout, earning a prompt chuckle. "You know I can't say no to you," he mused.

The smooth velvet of his voice made you sink further into his embrace, burrowing into his chest that rose and fell with the words he sang. He was singing his group's song; he was singing Angel. Without the soft melody if the background track, his voice still managed to hit every note, every key. The speed of his heart never faltered, never slowed, hammering away to an unknown beat. His hand continued to pet through your locks, nails scratching at your scalp.

"I'll be your morning star, and you are my angel, you are my angel. I'll be your morning star, and you are my angel, you are my angel," he sang, voice dying off slowly. His hand stopped moving and he let out a deep breath. "Can I ask you a question?"

"You just did," you pointed out. When he scoffed. You giggled and continued, "but yes you may."

"Alright. Well, I just… I just wanted to make sure…" he stopped for a second, letting out a shaky puff of air. "On this tour, have I been too… too forward with you?"

"What?" You questioned, shocked and confused. You looked up at him, meeting his stare. "What are you talking about?"

"Just…" he started, ending with a sigh. Ushering you off his chest. You moved to lay your head on the pillows instead. Taeyong rolled onto his side so you were facing each other, his arm slung across your waist. "This entire tour, I have done things I normally wouldn't do with you. And I guess I'm just worried I came off as too much or I did things you were comfortable with."

"Like what?"

"Stuff like this. I suppose," he shrugged. "The hugs. The cuddles. The compliments. The hand holding. The, um… the whole kiss on the cheek. I wasn't sure if I had crossed a line, coming off as too much."

"If I didn't like what you were doing, I would have said so, Taeyong."

"I guess so…"

"Am I allowed to ask… why the sudden change?"

Taeyong turned his gaze away, pursing his lips. His hand curled into your side, tongue darting out it wet his dry lips. "I just figured this would be the time to show you my real feelings. As soon as you said you were going to come with us, I thought that this was my time to do something. To get closer to you like I always wanted. And every day, we got closer.

"But every time I thought I could do it, I couldn't. I backed out. I shamelessly flirt with you, hoping that I could convey my feelings, but I failed. I just came off as too forward and not like me."

"Taeyong, stop," you scolded. "You weren't too forward. If anything, I liked what you did because… I don't know. I liked the things you did."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, Tae," you laughed. Your arm reached out for him, wrapping around his neck, hand in his hair, brushing it softly. "It didn't bother me one bit because it made me happy."

"That's good then," he sighed, giving a smile.

You laughed. Hugging him closer until your foreheads rested against one another. "So, you were flirting with me this entire tour, eh?"

Taeyong laughed, shaking his head. "Really?" He asked through his laughs. "I thought I was completely obvious with my flirting. Since the day we arrived in New York, I was flirting with you so much more than normal."

"Oh yeah?"

"Oh yeah," he finished, biting his lip. Your eyes locked, staring deep into each other's eyes for a minute before he continued. "Because I really, really like you, Y/N. I have liked you for the longest time. We have worked together since I was still a rookie and I just can't help that I have fallen head over heels for you. You are beautiful, talented, smart, funny. You are kind and every time I see you, I feel my heart skip a beat.

"You've always been there for us and I knew from the day we debuted officially that I couldn't escape this crush I have on you. Knowing you were out there made me try the hardest I could because I didn't want to disappoint you. And knowing that you were by my side through it all… I found myself getting deeper and deeper. So, I wanted to finally tell you that.

"I wanted to finally have the courage to ask you to be mine because I am pretty sure I love you. I have loved you for the last three years. I will love you for the rest of my life. I wanted to finally be able to tell you how much you mean to me. But as always, it took me forever."

"That's ok," you told him. You curled your fingers into him, smiling widely. "Because I was flirting back. Because I have had a crush on you for as long as I can recall. Since your rookie days, I always found you to be different. So talented and charismatic. You are the most genuine man I have ever met and I just… I fell for you, hard.”

"It's ok because I like you too, Taeyong. I like you so much that it hurts because my heart doesn't stop pounding out of my chest. At this point, I don't think these feelings will go away. I'm in too deep now. Every day, I have fallen deeper for you.

"I might be crazy to say this, but I might just love you too, Lee Taeyong."

"Really?" He asked, elation present. He pulled you closer, your legs tangling together once more. You laughed, nodding in response.

"I like you way too much sometimes."

"That… you have no idea how happy that makes me," he hummed. "I have dreamed of this for so long."

"You're not the only one, Yongie. I never thought you'd actually like me back."

"Well, believe it," he told you. His pushed your hair back behind your ear, his face red. "Does this mean you will be mine now?"

Your face fell somewhat, pondering. "What about you being an idol? You know how strict they are about relationships. We something were to happen between us, there is a big chance I won't be working with you anymore. Or for the company."

"We will figure that out after we return to Seoul. I'm sure we can come to an agreement with SM. They will probably make us keep it a secret, which is kind of depressing because I want to show the world how much I adore you." You swatted at him playfully. "It's not my fault. I just love you so much."

You blushed. The words fell from his tongue so easily, and it only made your heart pound in your ears. "You're such a dork," you mumbled. "But, I want to be with you, dork. We'll make it work somehow."

"Yeah," he hummed. A strand of hair was swirled around his finger before being dropped. His hand rested on your cheek, cupping it in his palm. The pad of his thumb smoothed over the curvature of your jawline and across your cheek. "Y/N, can I kiss you?"

Only when he said those words did the realization hit. The proximity between you was minimal. His warm, minty breath fanned across your face, his nose bumping against yours. Just an inch forward. And you would feel his lush, supple pink lips against yours, finally feeling how soft they truly were. Your heart was racing, matching the pace of his.

Your arm around him tightened, a large smile forming. "You don't even have to ask that, Yongie."

You barely got your response out before he leaned in, connecting your lips together at last. It was slow, but passionate, sparks flying and fireworks erupting. Your lips tingle at the tender touch of his. Your eyes fluttered closed at the touch of his touch, pushing back into him to return it.

It was short at first. It was like testing the waters. His lips dragged down against yours as he pulled away, a small pop of lips disconnecting bouncing from the walls. His hand still sat on your cheek, using that as a way to lean in again after a single moment to breathe.

This time, his head tilted to the side, pushing harder into the kiss than before. The first kiss jitters were gone, Taeyong delving deeper into the action. Less timid and shy, his lips fully engulfed yours this time, kissing you like his life depended on it.

Steadily they sped up. The more kisses you shared, the bolder he got. Both of you were growing comfortable with the connection, craving more and more with each passing glance. Taeyong's lips were like a drug, sweet tasting and addictive. You wanted to feel them against yours, sucking at your bottom lip playfully before poo pulling away suddenly.

The losses turned short for a brief period, connecting in short bursts before pulling away with loud smacks. Each time, his lips would take yours in, sucking at them for a second before pulling back completely. Your lips were bound to be swollen from his rapid assault, just as his had turned shades darker - the one pink color morphed into a scarlet red.

Finally. His lips connected to yours longer, daring to go bold. His tongue swiped at your bottom lip, asking for access that was promptly given. Your mouth opened and his tongue dove in, finding yours in a playful war. The familiar was unfamiliar but welcoming. His tongue would massage the inner lining of your cheeks, swirling around with your tongue. It had been a long time since you had kissed someone, but you knew that this feeling was one you had never felt before.

You shifted against the bed, confused when you felt something poking at your leg. Taeyong seemed to know what it was because he pulled away abruptly, rolling off the bed in a hurry. His hand ran through his hair, shoulders rising and falling as his body searched for lost air. His back was to you, leaving you a panting mess on the bed.

"What's wrong?" You asked him.

"N-nothing," he got out. "Just, um… I have to go take care of something really quick."

"Tae, seriously. What's going on?" You asked again, sitting up on the bed.

He signed, turning back around.  You let out a small gap, hand covering your mouth. You could see it through his robe. It wasn't well concealed. A small tent in his shorts was visible, and you knew what had happened - and what poked you.

"I'm sorry," he quickly apologized. "I didn't mean for this to happen. I just got a bit excited because of all this and the kissing and… just you. It just sort of happened. I got a bit carried away. And I don't want to move this too fast. I don't want to do something that you aren't comfortable with or ready for."

"Taeyong, it's fine," you reassured him. "It doesn't bother me. I'm not uncomfortable with this. Not with you."

You crawled off the bed, moving to wrap your arms around the idol leader. He let out a shaky breath, wrapping his arms around you. His face buried in your hair, inhaling deeply. "I just don't want to rush into something we might regret. I don't want to potentially make you do something you don't want to."

"And you won't," you told him.

"I don't want to mess this up. I don't want to ruin this."

"You won't," you repeated. "Taeyong, I love you, alright? You can't ruin this because I will always be here for you."

He sighed, kissing the top of your head. "Will you tell me if you are uncomfortable? Or if it's too much? I don't want to get carried away and we do something too soon. I'm afraid that if we get started, I won't want to stop. But, please, if you tell me to stop, I will stop. I don't want to pressure you into doing anything."

You looked up at him, meeting his stare. His brown eyes were warm, loving and lustful. And it gave you warmth deep inside.

"You're not pressuring me, Taeyong. Because I want to do this. I don't want you to stop."

He smiled, leaning down to kiss you again. The sensual connection heated up quickly. He backed you into the bed, carefully laying you against the sheets. The man crawled over you as he kissed you repeatedly, to guess tangling and lips smacking. Your hands foamed the back of his head while his ran up and down your sides.

He pulled you into a sitting position mid kiss, his hands at the bottom of your hoodie. He broke the kiss to breathily mumble, "is this ok?" And with a nod to confirm, he was pulling the hoodie over your head, tossing it to the floor. You were left in the loose tank top, your bra left in your hotel room. The tank top was low cut, showing off your clavicle.

His hands cupped your cheeks, pulling you into another tender kiss. His dark eyes closed, head tilted to the side to give himself better access to your lips. His lips dragged against your softly, the smack of lips connecting and separating meeting your ears once more. Your own hands moved up his chest tentatively, resting on his shoulders. His robe was pushed away so you could feel the smooth skin of his broad shoulders.

His lips separated from yours, traveling down your jawline. His teeth nipped at your earlobe a few times as he peppered your face with pecks, headed towards your neck. Tilting your head on instinct, you gave him more access to nibble at your tender spots. Your face heated up when you moaned lowly, Taeyong chuckling against your shoulder.

Your hands moved to the tie of his robe, the man backing away from your neck when he felt your hands against his stomach. “Can I?” you asked him, looking between the knot and his eyes. Your hands shook, fingers itching to do something. They wanted to feel him - they wanted to run along the fine physique of the idol sitting before you with his legs tucked under him. He nodded, leaning back on his legs more. The knot came undone, falling loose around him. Your hands trembled more when you pushed the robe off of his shoulders, revealing his broad shoulders, toned chest and muscled abs.

The robe was discarded to the floor, Taeyong left in just a pair of athletic shorts, the band of his boxers peeking over the top. Your hands traced along his body, Taeyong silently watching you. His lips curled into a smile, his hands falling to yours, pressing your palms further into him. One hand sat directly above his heart, the unsteady beats drumming against your fingertips.

“So beautiful,” you murmured. Taeyong pushed some strands of your hair behind your ear, shaking his head.

“That’s you.”

Your heart thundered against your ribs. Arms reaching out, you wrapped them around his neck, crawling into his lap to latch your lips to his. Taeyong gladly returned it, eyes closing once more, sinking into your embrace. His large hands settled on your waist, pushing your tank top up your sides. Your chests were flush against each other, heaving with sharp breaths from the relentless kisses.

The idol group leader pulled away to tug your tank top over your head, pausing to get permission first. Once it was flung to the floor, he laid you back to his bed, placing a lingering kiss to your lips. “You’re still ok with this?” he asked, biting his lips. “I can stop.”

“I told you before. I don’t want you to,” you told him.

“Alright,” he whispered, kissing you sweetly. “I just wanted to make sure. I don’t want to rush anything between us. I love you and want you to be comfortable.”

“I’m always comfortable with you,” you laughed. “You make me so happy. I couldn’t be uncomfortable if I tried.”

Taeyong smiled, placing one firm kiss to your lips before traveling down your body. His lips traced your clavicle, sucking light red marks to your chest. With mild hesitation, his hand found your bare breast, cupping it in his palm, fondling it carefully. Only when he heard your mewls of happiness get released did he press harder, rubbing your chest more. The pad of his thumb grazed your nipple, feeling it harden under his touch. It was already erect from his chill of his Vancouver hotel room, especially when your hoodie was discarded.

Your lips parted and your eyelashes fluttered against your cheeks when they slid closed, relishing in the ecstasy raining down on you. Your back arched off the bed, pushing yourself closer to him, craving more of his touch. The closer his lips got to your breast, kissing his way down slowly, the more your body pushed into him. When his lips finally met your breast, his mouth attached to your nipple and sucking on it somewhat harshly, your moans amplified. Your hand shot up to cover your mouth, not wanting to potentially wake up mark who was asleep in the room next door.

Taeyong grinned at the sound you made, sucking at your breast more. His mouth was watering, his mind blank. He had wanted to do this for so long, only having dreamt of it, that he was salivating at the thoughts that no longer plagued him. His dreams were now reality, and his mind couldn’t process anything but what was happening then and now. His tongue moved quickly, flicking at the hard bud, lips tugging it when he pulled away with a pop. His lips circled the bud, kissing every inch of your mounds. He swapped breasts and repeated the same process, equally loving your body.

Shuffling further down, his lips moved along the band of your pajama pants. Your hand reached down, pushing through his messy locks. His dark eyes peered up your body at him, the man taking a deep breath. “May I?”

“Please.”

Your bottom lifted off the bed, Taeyong pulling the starry bottoms down your legs in one quick swoop. His breath hitched when he laid his eyes on the pink panties hugging your hips, your pajama pants slipping from his grasp, falling over the edge of the bed to the floor. Your legs rubbed together nervously, embarrassed at your near nude status before him.

“Did you know I love the color pink?” he breathed, chuckling huskily. “And now that I’m looking at it on you, I must say, I love it even more. Such a beautiful girl in such a beautiful color.”

“Stop it,” you shyly spoke, hugging yourself to hide from his gaze.

“Don’t hide from me,” he mused, reaching up to pull your arms away from your chest. His body rolled against yours as he moved, straddling your form, one leg on either side of your thighs, knees pressed to the bed. His hands held yours above your head, ensuring that his weight was supported and not crushing you. Laying a soft kiss to your lips, he smiled. “You’re beautiful, Y/N. You always have been and always will be in my mind. I don’t want to see you hide because you have nothing to be ashamed of. I love every inch of you.”

“Taeyong,” you sighed, tilting your head to peck his lips, giving him a chaste kiss. “What did I do to deserve you?”

“I should be the one asking that,” he teased. His gaze softened, his hands squeezing at yours harder. “I love you, Y/N.”

“I love you too, Yongie.”

Giving you one last kiss, he disappeared back down your body, letting out a hot puff of air before pulling your panties from your body. Your legs were nudged apart, the man settling between them, his face directly in front of your core. His hot breath fanned over it, your blood pumping harder through your veins. Your insides tingled, stomach churning with desire. Your body squirmed, low pleas for him to do anything passing your lips.

One slim finger slid through your folds, toying with your entrance. His breathing picked up, tongue darting out to wet his dry lips. His eyes swapped between what he was doing and your face, making sure you were enjoying it before he proceeded. When he saw your eyes closed from bliss, and a smile on your cheeks, his finger pushed into you. His ears perked up at the sound you made, a cross between a content sigh and a filthy moan filling the air.

In and out, his finger slid. Slow and careful at first, he thrust his finger into you, feeling your walls contracting around him. His nail scratched along them, the feeling prolonging every time he slid back into you. He was searching for a spot to make you moan louder, adding a second finger after a bit to aid in his search - to aid in your pleasure. When his second finger joined, your hand found his dark hair again, giving it a sharp tug that made him hiss silently through his teeth. Taeyong didn’t mind, seeing as he knew you were enjoying it. The sudden yank just shocked him more than anything.

His thrusts got faster, shoving hard and deeper into you in search for your happiness. The tips curled, adding to the pressure you were feeling. Your core was knotting with delight, fast approaching your peak. Additionally, he leaned forward, swiping his tongue across your clit. With his lips encasing the nub, you broke, letting out a particularly loud moan. As distracted as you were, you didn’t have time to cover your mouth from it. You were too busy seeing stars, feeling your toes curl into the sheets. Your body writhed against the bed, eyes closing as you drifted to heaven.

“Oh, Taeyong,” you managed to release, thrilling the man.

Just before you reached your high, he pulled his fingers out, replacing the loss of heat with his mouth. The two wet fingers touched to your clit, gently circling at it. His tongue slid into your core, swirling his tongue in fast rounds, the tip running along your already sensitive walls. He let out sounds of approval, groaning happily into your core. The taste of you made his senses go wild, and though the sounds he made were muffled, you could tell he was enjoying it.

You came with a prolonged moan, drawing out the sound. Your throat rattled with the vibration, feeling yourself unwind. Your juices seeped onto his tongue. Taeyong temporarily caught by surprise. His body froze when he felt the drops on his tongue but snapped into reality to lap them all up. Every drop that landed on his tongue, he swallowed, savoring the taste as long as he could. He could feel your walls spasming with your orgasm, trying to hug the wet article of his tongue.

Backing away, he leaned back on his knees, wiping his chin clean of your arousal. Your chest was heaving, your body trying to catch its breath. With a content smile, he rolled to lay beside you, palming the very obvious erection in his shorts. He wasn’t about to ask for your help. He would let you fall asleep before rushing to the bathroom to rid himself of the strain. For the moment, he wanted to be by your side, staring at your face.

“How was that?” he inquired, playing with your hair.

“The best orgasm I’ve ever had,” you panted. Rolling onto your side, you curled into him. You shared a lazy kiss, not bothered by the taste of his mouth. Your gaze moved to his crotch, his hand covering the bulge. “What about you?”

“It’s fine,” he muttered.

You frowned, pulling him into a heated kiss. The man didn’t resist, returning the smooch as soon as he felt it. Your hand, starting at his chest, felt down his chest slowly, feeling every crevice possible. Your fingers traced the scar on his lower abdomen a few times, running along his toned stomach, and ending up at the band of his shorts. Nudging his hand away, his breath was caught in his throat, the kiss breaking. Your hand rested on his bulge, caressing it through the thin material.

“Baby, you don’t have to-”

“I want to,” you told him, ignoring the nickname he uttered. “Now, kiss me, Tae.”

He couldn’t resist the silky demand you let out. His lips met yours again, fast paced, open-mouth kisses filling the room with multiple smacks. You continued to palm him through his shorts, finally bypassing the band completely to grip his erect length. A groan from Taeyong was lost to your mouth, your hand stroking his cock slowly. Your thumb smoothed over the tip, feeling beads of precum seeping out of it. The length pulsated with want, your fingers tracing the prominent vein on the underside of him. Your grip was firm, yet gentle, tugging the skin of his shaft around the head before releasing, letting it relax into its normal way.

Taeyong, breathlessly, broke the kiss you were sharing. He was panting heavily, struggling to pull your hand from his shorts. His legs felt like jelly, rolling off of the bed and leaving you alone. You watched him curiously, the idol finding his backpack and digging through its contents. His hair from afar was disheveled, his shorts were tented, and broad shoulders rose and fell with heavy breaths. His back was leanly muscled, just like his front. You couldn’t see his dark eyes, but your eyes followed his sharp jawline, admiring the side profile of the handsome man. He was beautiful to stare at in the dim lighting of the room.

Taeyong let out a cheer of success, rushing back towards you, tripping over his own feet. You giggled, wondering how the man could dance as well as he did when he was this clumsy. The idol crawled onto the bed next to you. His sat on his knees, fiddling with the small foil package between his fingers. His nose flared with a sigh, his lip tugged between his teeth.

“Y/N,” he began. “I want you. Like, really bad. But I will respect if you want to say no. I know that we’ve both done stuff. We’ve talked about it over drinks before because one drink and I’m out. And I have no filter when I’m drunk because I just get all giddy. But I don’t want you to continue if you don’t want this too. I’ve told you this the entire night, but I don’t want to rush anything. I care about you too much to ruin us because we jumped into things head first.

“But, I do. I love you. No question about that. And I want you. So bad. I physically hurt right now because I want you. I need you. So, I ask you this one last time.” He held up the condom he fetched from his bag. “Do you want to continue?”

Your response was immediate. “Yes.”

“Are you sure? Completely sure?”

“Yes,” you let out, taking his hand. “I love you. So much. I want you, Taeyong. I want all of you.”

“Alright…” he let out, shakily tearing open the packet.

You watched him roll the rubbed along his length, checking three times that he had it on just right with sufficient room at the end for his release. His OCD was showing. You pondered as you watched him, thinking aloud, “Why did you have a condom in your bag anyway?”

“I wasn’t planning for this on the tour,” he quickly shot, panic written on his face.

You giggled, shaking your head. “I didn’t think that. I was just curious.”

“Oh,” he said with a sigh of relief. “I… I actually always have one in my wallet. In case of emergencies. After my first time, I figured it was best to always be prepared.”

“Do you make the other boys carry one too? Does Mama Taeyong make sure his babies are prepared for their big days?” you teased. Taeyong sneered playfully.

“I don’t make them!” he yelped. “But I do recommend they do too. A guy can never be too prepared.”

“You’re such a good leader,” you told him. “And a good friend for caring for his friends.”

“Not really,” he laughed, pushing his messy hair back. “Now, enough about them and making sure they carry protection! Right now, this moment is about me and you. This is about us. This is… about us making love for the first time.”

“You’re so cute,” you mused. Your eyes fluttered at him, giving him a large smile. “Come on then, you romantic. Make love to me, Yongie.”

Taeyong slid his shorts and boxers off, cock springing free before he took his place between your legs, giving you a kiss before he started. His aligned his shaft with your entrance, pushing in slowly. You grimaced at the immediate pain, having not experienced anything for a while. His cock stretched you wide, filling you bit by bit. He was slow to enter, pausing when it became too much for you. His kissed along your jaw, uttering sweet nothings into your ear to help you relax, continuing until he was fully sheathed.

He paused once he was fully inside you, his body pressed flat to yours. His hands took yours, lacing your fingers together above your head. Your legs tangled together. Your walls hugged around him, feeling him throbbing inside you. Soft kisses were shared while you got accustomed to his size.

Slow thrusts were how he started, pulling back and pushing back in just before his tip escaped your folds. Your body relaxed into his, the mild pain morphing into indescribable pleasure. Your hands squeezed together, low moans beginning to escape your lips. The way his hips rolled against yours made your heart race, your head falling back into the pillows. His lips traveled along your neck, sucking at the exposed skin.

Steadily, his thrusts got faster and harder, pushing himself deeper into you, His breathing picked up with the energy exerted, but he pushed on regardless, hearing your constant stream of mewls. They mixed with his grunts and groans, and the slap of sweaty skin together. The tip of his cock hit your sweet spot deep inside your core, ramming into it every time he pushed into you.

Your hands disconnected your arms flung around him instead. His lips moved to yours, the intense kiss making him speed up. His hips ground into yours, bucking into you quickly. His now freed hand ran down the curvature of your body, gripping your thigh tightly. Your legs detangled from each other, yours wrapping around his waist, pushing him in deeper. The new angle allowed him to push deeper into you, pistoning his cock in and out of you quickly.

The bed squeaked. Your limbs stuck to the sheets. Sweat poured from your bodies, making you slick against one another. Quick thrusts made constant smack after smack of skin bounce from the walls. Your chests were pressed flat together, keeping your breasts from moving with his lightning pace. Your nails raked down his back, red scratches inked into his skin that he was sure to get hell for later if they didn't fade.

But right now, neither of you cared.

You were on cloud nine, loving the man in your arms, sharing kisses, feeling connected. He thrust into you quickly and sharply, all with the purpose of bringing you together and bringing you both pleasure. Bucking into you, he chased his high, feeling your walls clinging around him, spasming.

“Taeyong,” you mustered in your fatigued state. Your vision was spotting, and your stomach felt tight. Your toes curled into him, heels digging into his dancer’s butt. Your nails dug into his shoulders, leaving crescent-shaped indentures in his skin. The man nodded in understanding.

“I’m close,” he rasped in his velvety voice. “Go ahead, baby. Let go for me.”

You let out a moan that he silenced with his lips, swallowing the noise. Your walls closed, hugging his shaft as tight as possible. Your juices splashed out, seeping from deep inside and coating the rubber condom. Even with your tight walls, he slid in and out with ease. His head buried in your shoulder, thrusts growing sloppy while chasing his high. Your core was wet and warmth, and Taeyong, already sensitive from his lack of release since the start of the night, could feel it all through the rubber.

With one last groan, he spilled his seed into the tip of the rubber, strings of the sticky white fluid seeping from his tip and into the air pocket. Your walls, wrapped around him, milked him for every drop, drop by drop of his arousal filling the protection. His thrusts slowed, easing into you to ride out his high, as well as your, the last drops dripping from his shaft.

Pulling out, the idol rushed to discard the rubber, tying it off and wrapping it in bundles of tissue first. He retrieved a warm cloth from the bathroom, wincing as he cleaned his shaft off. He twitched in his hand, still sensitive in his post-orgasm state. Returning to his room, he saw you curled up already, eyes half closed. He let out a low chuckle, cleaning you without saying a word, not wanting to disturb your half-asleep state.

He clicked off the light, crawling into the bed with you. His arm laid out, your body curling into his side with his arm as the pillow immediately. Taeyong fiddled with his phone, setting an alarm for the morning. He knew he wouldn’t get much sleep considering the time, but he would sleep hard after everything, especially with you in his arms.

He felt a soft kiss to the side of his head, right over the scar by his eye. He turned to look at you, chuckling at your sleepy smile. Placing a kiss to your forehead, he heard your content sigh. “I love you, baby.”

“I love you too, Yong,” you slurred.

“I’m glad I have you in my life, Y/N,” he told you. “This is just the start of something great between us. I promise. I’m ever letting you go now that I have you.”

“You know. It’s kind of ironic,” you voiced.

“What is?”

“The tour is called Neo City: The Origin because it’s the first NCT tour. It’s the start of something great for your group. Yet, this is also the origin of us. Neo City is the origin of our relationship.”

“And nothing will put an end to it,” He finished. You smiled lazily, wrapping your arms around him.

“Nothing can tear us apart now. I finally scored the man of my dreams. Or… my videos I guess?”

“That was lame,” he chuckled. “But, I loved it.”

“You’re lame.”

“I know.”

You curled into him, sharing one last kiss before you both fell asleep quickly, cuddled under the covers closely.

-

The blaring alert startled you away, Taeyong chuckling slowly when you jerked against him. With a groan, you fell back into the bed. Your hair was splayed against the pillows, a mess of tangled knots. The sheets were tightly wrapped around your nude form, hiding your body from him. Your limbs ached from the late-night activities.

Taeyong wrapped a tight arm around your waist, pressing his lips to the side of your head. A smile crawled onto your face, reminded about what transpired between you both the night before. It hadn't been a dream; you were officially with the leader of NCT.

"Morning," he sleepily hummed, covering his yawn. "Did you sleep well?"

"I slept like a baby because of you," you laughed.

"Is that so?" He laughed.

"Yes. You're comfy to sleep with."

"Good. Get used to it," was his response. He placed a swift kiss to your lips, which you returned quickly before swatting him away.

"Morning breath!" You screeched before rolling into him. "What time is it?"

"A little after eight," he hummed thoughtlessly.

"What?!" You cried. Flinging yourself from his arms, sheet in hand to cover yourself, you rolled off the bed, searching for your discarded clothes. Taeyong chuckled, grabbing his abandoned bottoms from the night before and sliding them on. He sat on the bed, watching you rush to pull clothes on. "We have to be in the bus in an hour!"

"I know."

"I need time to get ready, Tae!" You scowled. "I also have to sneak back to my room without the others seeing me."

He shrugged.

You glared at him, grabbing your seal from the floor where it fell the previous night once you were dressed. "So helpful."

He chuckled, crawling off the bed. His long strides took him no time at all to reach you, his arms enveloping you in a tight hug. You glanced up at him, the man giving you a tender peck on the lips that you were waiting for.

"It'll be fine. I will see you soon, baby. I love you."

With a blush, you gave him a quick, "I love you too," before sneaking out of the room, rushing as quickly and quietly to your room as possible, without being caught by the other nine boys. As soon as your door closed, you let out a sigh of relief, grinning like an idiot.

I am dating Lee Taeyong now.

Within the hour, you managed to rush and get your things together, looking decently presentable. You rushed out of your room, beginning to pound on the doors of the nine boys.

"Come on! Let's go! We have to be on the bus! You have practice for the concert today!"

The boys reluctantly joined you, filing down the hallway with a chorus of groans. Taeyong was the last, ending up at your side. His hand discreetly reaching for yours. The group of boys made their way onto the bus, ignoring the group of girls that watched from the sidelines, squealing to themselves. Luckily, your hands disconnected from Taeyong's before exiting the building.

The bus began to roll away from the hotel, your body collapsing into a seat next to Taeyong. You could feel multiple sets of burnings eyes upon you as you sat down, finding eight of the nine staring you down.

"What?" You asked, confusing why they were giving you hard stares.

"What were you up to last night?" Doyoung pried, giving a savage smile.

"W-what?"

"You have marks all over your neck," Johnny pointed out. You scowled slowly, seething through your teeth.

"Taeyong too," Jungwoo continued, turning to the man beside you, he was flushed.

"What happened between you guys?" Haechan asked, leaning forward.

You shared a glance with Taeyong, silently asking what to do. The man answered - with action, not words. His hand reach for yours, your fingers lacing together. You smiled unconsciously at the gesture, laughing when he leaned forward, placing a kiss to the side of your head.

The boys watched on, stone faced. Taeyong cleared his throat, finally speaking up. "I guess you guys have the right to be the first to know," he hummed. "I asked out Y/N last night."

The guys remained silent before letting out a loud cheer, echoing the same response: "Finally!"

"What?" You laughed.

"He has liked you for so long," Taeil chuckled.

"We kept telling him to confess already and ask you out, but he wouldn't!" Yuta continued.

"So, we were forced to watch you guys flirt for weeks," Haechan sneered, acting as if he were disgusted.

"I'm glad you guys finally got together," Mark laughed. "But do me a favor and keep it down next time."

The others looked at the Canadian boy, confused. Your face lit up, stuttering out, "W-what?"

"I woke up hearing some rather… odd noises from Taeyong's room. Listen, I am glad that I can call you my actual sister now, seeing as you are dating someone I consider to be my real brother, but I don't need to be scarred again. I heard things I never want to hear again."

The other boys let out a loud round of "ooo"s that made you blush harder. Taeyong shook his head, wrapping his arm around your shoulders.  Sure, his face was red, but he kept some kind of composure.

"I can't guarantee anything," he laughed. You turned to look at him, appalled. The others laughed, enjoying the way you slapped their leader's arm.

"Taeyong!"

"Well, regardless, we are happy for you guys," Jaehyun said. "It's about time something happened. And we hope that things work out always. You deserve to be happy and you deserve each other."

"My ship has sailed!" Jungwoo screamed. You laughed at him. The young boy throwing his arms up with his cheer.

"Thanks guys. That means a lot to me," you said, glancing at Taeyong. "To us."

The group awed when their leader kissed you softly. Instantly, they were rushing across the bus, piling onto you. You were wrapped in a chorus of hugs, all of the boys deeply laughing.

"Welcome to the family finally, Y/N!" They hollered.

"Yah! Get off!"

The bus roared with laughs, everyone returning to their seats after the moment of love. You were left alone with Taeyong, the man squeezing your hand gently.

"You know, I'm never going to hear the end of this from your makeup artist," you laughed, leaning over to kiss a faint red mark that had been left to his neck.

"It's fine," the idol hummed. "Because I got my girl."

"Such a dork," you taunted. He laughed, leaning down to kiss you sweetly. The kiss made you smile, muttering against his lips when he pulled back, "I love you."

"I love you too," he responded, kissing you again.

This is definitely the start of something great.

NCTzens Tag: @brien-odylan, @poppyshawn, @belleknows

[oddcoupler222]

I remember a while ago you had a prompt fill where Margaery ran a radio show and Sansa fell in love with her voice. Is it rude if I ask what happened to it? It was so good!

not rude! I took it down, to reshop it into a longer oneshot, perhaps, but i’m really preoccupied right now with editing TWW so… I’ll post it again! 

——

It wasn’t like Sansa was… in love with… a woman she’d never met - because that would be crazy. And if anything, Sansa was more than cautious when it came to her heart these days.

Maybe that was why crushing someone from a talk show was easy.

It might have also had something to do with the fact that Margaery was kind of perfect. Of course, Sansa didn’t know Margaery personally; she wasn’t crazy.

But Margaery always seemed to know what to say; she was hilarious, she was frank, she seemed to have all of the knowledge in the world and when she didn’t, she sure as hell still sounded confident.

She’d first stumbled upon her show when she’d moved to King’s Landing two years, blindly following her heart and her boyfriend Joffrey across the country. They’d had a big fight, one of their first actual fights that had scared Sansa, and when she’d been walking downtown to calm herself (because, in retrospect, living with Joffrey like that had been such a terrible idea) - feeling a bit lost and a lot lonely - she’d ended up sitting on a bench across from the King’s Landing Chronicles.

And fatefully, really, staring up at the billboard that had the picture of a woman’s smirk emblazoned with the words The Margaery Monologues.

She’d started listening later that night, and had been drawn right in.

There were Thursday night politics - where the show had begun four years ago, when it had begun as a political talk show of sorts. Until, that is, when Margaery had absolutely gone off on one of the candidates running for Prime Minister -

(“I’m sorry,” heaving sigh, “You know I pride myself on thoroughly discussing all of the issues from every angle. But are we all just going to fucking pretend he is even a viable candidate? My gods, I feel like I’m taking insanity pills every time I hear someone say his name as if it should be said anywhere other than a prison roll call.”)

- and instead of getting her fired, her twenty minute rant had been what had gotten her personality recognized and the show catapulted into it’s seedlings of prominence.

There were Margaery Morning segments - the once a week broadcast that Margaery did Monday mornings at 8, where she functioned mostly as an acerbic news anchor while simultaneously peppering in amusing stories and diatribes about morning commutes and coffee shops -

(“and I never want to hear a word against that little place on the corner of Fifth and Vine at the base of Aegon’s High Hill again. Their chai latte is amazing - also, sorry to the very cute girl who had to work behind the counter with the jackass this morning.”)

There were Guest Star Tuesdays, where Margaery featured a whole number of people in a mix of both conversational/interview tone. It could be politicians, it could be authors, it could be a handful of actors who had appeared, business owners. Sometimes it was members of Margaery’s own family or her friends. Whoever it was, it was always fun. It always felt like somehow, Sansa was a part of their conversation.

(she suspected that was just a quality Margaery had.)

There were Listener’s Choice segments on Wednesday, and those were her absolute favorites. The topics ranged all over the spectrum. From requesting personal stories about Margaery - which they always got, but even more so on Wednesdays - to relationship advice and anecdotes, to book/movie/show reviews… the sky was the limit.

(“So, everyone, after tonight’s terrifying discussion about the state of mostly hetero relationships, I’m going to leave you with this: if someone treats you poorly, you can always do better. Don’t stay with someone just because you’re worried about being alone.” a beat, lighter, joking tone, “And - this one for the ladies out there - if men are disappointing you, there’s always women,” quiet chuckling, “Okay, okay, before I keep going on, remember to send in questions, comments, and stories to be addressed on next Wednesday’s show. Until next time, darlings.”)

She didn’t know if it was pathetic to admit that some of Margaery’s commentary and advice about relationships were the things that had given her the courage to walk away from Joff when things had gotten really bad. Actually, truly, scarily bad.

(“I know it’s not always easy to walk away from a bad situation – and yes, if we all recall from my many tales, I’m not one who often indulges in relationships. But for Scared Without Support, you wrote here that you need that extra step to walk away: I’ll be that extra step. Don’t walk - run - from this asshole. With police protection, if necessary. I’d offer my own services there, too, but I’m afraid my virtues lay with beauty and brains rather than brawn.”)

It may be pathetic, but it was true.

… and okay, it might have also had something to do with the segment that aired at midnights on Fridays - Margaery After Dark - where she talked about all matters pertaining to sex.

That was a relatively new segment; it had been added only two months ago, and the when time she’d listened to the first segment, Sansa had realized after laying in bed with her earbuds in, listening to Margaery’s voice as she’d talked about sex - (sex toys, positions, funny stories, seductive stories. Tales about her own sexuality and experiences but most specifically, Margaery ending her show by expanding on what being with a woman was and how it felt and her favorite parts of being with women, her voice a notch lower than it usually was)

It wasn’t until it had ended that Sansa realized she’d laid shock still for an entire hour, that her heart was beating fast, her cheeks were flushed, and that between her legs… well, she was more than a little aroused.

She was doing better now than she had in years -

After leaving Joffrey six months ago, she’d stayed with Shae, the older but protective woman who’d worked with her at the library, who had offered to maim Joff several times. But she finally had her feet steadily under her.

And her own apartment, that she was able to pay for with her part-time work in the evenings at the library (that she would hopefully be able to quit soon) and the fact that some more prominent people had started hiring her for her side job - baking cakes, pies, tarts, cookies… all sorts of goods, from home - thanks in particular to Shae’s fiance who worked at the capitol building.

The only thing that was messing her up, really, was her gods damn neighbor. Her next door neighbor who seemed to operate at a completely different schedule than she did. And Sansa knew that waking up at 4 or 5 (it was usually perfectly timed for her to listen… or re-listen to Margaery’s show from the previous night) in the morning to get through her current baking orders was not typical, and she always did her best to keep her noise level down.

(there had been a few instances where she’d certain things or, the first time she’d flambe’d and hadn’t realized exactly how sensitive the smoke alarm was, so - well, that had been a process that she was sure her neighbor didn’t appreciate. but she tried)

Her neighbor had no such qualms - he/she/they, who knows, as Sansa hadn’t run into them even after over a month. But whomever they were often came in late. Late enough that Sansa was often in bed. Sometimes with what sounded like friends? Groups of people laughing and chatting. Music being played. Sometimes bringing decidedly loud female company (that was how she’d realized that their bedrooms shared a wall).

In fact, the only interaction they’d had was somewhat passive aggressive (Sansa had left a tray of cookies outside of her door her second week in, with a note, “Hi! I’m Sansa, your new neighbor in 12B. Sorry you weren’t around when I knocked, it would have been nice to meet you. So, I’m sorry this might sound rude/weird, but is there a chance you could possibly try to keep it down at night? I have early mornings for work. Enjoy the cookies!”) -

and in return she’d received an empty plate back, with a prettily scrawled note (decidedly feminine but she wasn’t making any assumptions), “Hello neighbor, the cookies were delicious. And I would personally appreciate it if your alarm clock didn’t go off so early and if there were no more fire alarms before dawn. I keep late nights (sometimes) for work. I’m sure we’ll cope. 12A.”

So. She’d done her best to keep quieter in the mornings, and she thought she heard a bit of a difference in her neighbor’s guests coming over less frequently, and the female company seemed to also be happening a bit less frequently (though there was a burst of laughter from the other side of the wall and a lot of shushing, the night after she’d left the note, which had somewhat made her feel mocked, but. Oh well).

She didn’t meet her neighbor until almost two months after moving in. Running late to do a consult for a client who wanted Sansa to potentially make a cake for a bachelorette party, and after that she would have to essentially run to her shift at the library, she’d left her apartment, clutching a batch of tester cupcakes in a carrier.

And slammed right into the woman leaving the adjacent door, the cupcakes falling to the ground, hearing her own, “No!” leave her before she could stop it.

She was already bemoaning her cupcakes, because she definitely did not have enough time to redo those! Before she turned to her neighbor, and she could only stare in horror at the way the cup of what seemed to be steaming hot black coffee streamed down the woman’s white blouse as her exclamation, “Gods damn it!” seemed to echo down the hall.

Her cheeks burned at the realization that she was just - staring at her chest, her very ample chest, as her shirt stuck to her like a second skin, and her stomach flipped, even as apologies started rolling off of her lips, “I’m - I’m so sorry. I’m so -”

Everything died on her lips, though, the moment her gaze climbed higher and higher and…

No, she wasn’t in love with a woman she’d never met, but she’d certainly looked at the icon for her podcast to recognize the quirk of soft looking lips (though in the icon they were smirking rather than decidedly scowling) -

It was as though she was having an out of body experience, really. Because she could hear the blood rushing through her ears, as she slowly tracked her eyes higher than that recognizable mouth…

And took in Margaery’s face for the first time. Margaery’s absolutely stunningly gorgeous face, and Sansa was just - frozen.

Until that voice snapped her out of it, “Of fucking course today of all days,” Margaery murmured, tugging at her shirt in agitation, voice just as smooth and alluring - even pissed - as it was over airwaves, before golden eyes snapped at her, “Hello? Are you okay?”

Her voice was short, now, clearly a snap, because Sansa had been standing there for almost a full minute not saying anything.

Her heart was in her throat though, her stomach dipping low and, “I - y-eah?” she barely managed to squeak out.

Margaery quirked an eyebrow at her like she was a moron (she knew she sounded like one, though) before she sighed, and checked her watch, before she rolled her eyes and shook her head, “I don’t have time for this. I have to go. Seven hells,” was muttered under her breath, before she took off down the hallway.

Margaery - Margaery - disappeared down the hall with a flourish of glossy, curled light brown hair and the linger of intoxicating perfume.

And Sansa was left standing there, with her cupcakes mushed down at her feet, also running late, her cheeks flushed, heart pounding and -

Well if she wasn’t positive that she’d had an actual crush on Margaery before, there was just no doubt about it now.

And if she really wasn’t sure about it then? She would have been later that night.

When, after returning home and changing into her pajamas, still somewhat reeling from her day, there was a knock on her door.

Where Margaery stood, with a bottle of wine and a small smile on her face, “Hello. I’m your neighbor, 12A, Margaery. It’s nice to meet you.”

That smile was almost dizzying to see in person - the voice was even more so.

“Uh, hi? Hi. Hello,” her eyes widened at herself, “I’m -”

“Sansa, yes - I remember the cookies,” her smile turns wry, “I wanted to apologize for earlier today,” she gestures to the wine, “If you’d like to have a glass  together.”

She clenched her hand around the doorknob, because her heart stopping and her mind screaming YES didn’t seem like the most conducive way to not scare her.

She had to clear her throat, “Um, I - you don’t owe me an apology,” is what came out. Really it was a loaded statement on her part - she owed a lot to Margaery, inadvertently. Not that the other woman knew it, but still, “I mean, I did ruin your shirt. And I’m sorry. Again.”

Margaery waved her hand, her eyes going warm in a way that Sansa - well she could have only imagined Margaery’s eyes looking like that for the last year, “Well, I also caused you to drop whatever creation you had in your carrier and I’m sure it was delicious. And unlike you, I didn’t have the good grace to apologize earlier because I was a bit of a bitch and in more than a bit of a hurry.” She quirked an eyebrow, “Besides, Thursday nights, I typically have my brother and best friend over for some drinks and a bit of catching up, but I was hoping you’d like to join me tonight?”

That was how Sansa found herself sitting with Margaery, on her own couch, pleasantly flushed from the wine, an hour later. They’d covered multiple topics from their original… issues (“I should also apologize while I’m here for my late nights. Though I stand by the fact that your early mornings can also be a killer,” she’d winked and Sansa was completely charmed, “But I think we’ve gotten a decent rhythm down in the last few weeks.” - and they had.),

to light conversation about how they’d found their respective apartments (and Margaery’s eyes were alight with sympathy when she’d tried to skate over the Joffrey topic), until they’d landed on jobs, and -

“I shouldn’t be surprised that you’re a baker; I truly ate all of your cookies myself within a few days,” Margaery sighed, almost dreamily. “I almost asked for more at one point when I was a bit stressed out, but I figured we didn’t have that rapport yet.”

“You can ask whenever you want,” slipped out, and she flushed, before she cleared her throat, “But I’m not a full time baker, yet. Just, a little home thing. One day, though.”

“I don’t doubt it,” she took another sip, before adding, “I host a little broadcast radio show of sorts, out of the Chronicle; I had a meeting with the executives earlier, which was why I was so - you know.”

This was where Sansa should have said, “Actually, sorry to be weird, but - I know. I listen to it,” or even, “Oh, that’s why you sound familiar, I’ve heard the show a couple of times.”

Instead, she blushed and gulped down her wine, before toying with the base of the glass, “Oh! Well, that’s, um, cool.”

Margaery gave her a smile and her stomach twisted so tightly she almost exploded.

Somehow, it became a thing.

Margaery started knocking on her door every Thursday - no longer ever really hosting her brother and friend, saying that they instituted a date night together - and she’d come in with a bottle of wine, and they’d talk. Way later than Sansa typically stayed awake, to be entirely honest. But it was like she couldn’t tear herself away.

… and sometimes she came over on Saturdays and sporadically throughout the week, too.

If she thought she’d liked Margaery just from hearing her on her show, her in person was so much more. Her smiles were bright and infectious, her laughter even more so. And it was so strange, because she was the same person she was in her podcast, but also - so much more.

She sometimes sat with her while she baked, or Sansa taught her how to make simple recipes, and Margaery looked incredibly adorable with a look of overt concentration as she got a bit of flour on her cheek.

Some nights, she would come over with her laptop and say she was doing “research” for work, and would murmur under her breath as she browsed the internet and made some notes for what Sansa could only presume was her next segment.

And they just… talked. About everything. Sansa told her about Joffrey for real and how she’d been in a terrible situation, stuck with him and terrified, and Margaery, with a fierce look in her eyes, wrapped her in a hug that Sansa could have melted into for probably her entire life. If anything, Sansa knows she’s truly, for real, in love with Margaery when Margaery’s next segment is an unplanned show on domestic abuse, complete with call-ins with a licensed therapist, and an impassioned, emotional speech.

Margaery told her about how close she’d been to her grandmother growing up and how she’d wanted to just make her proud, and that when she’d started her show it had been hard because it was really the first time she’d truly disappointed her -

(”I just don’t know if I want to fight to affect change if that means I’ll have to bite my tongue my entire life to do it,” she’d told her one night, voice softer than normal. And Sansa assured her probably too quickly, that her voice and opinions made her who she was and she desperately didn’t want her to change that).

The Margaery Monologues almost seemed like a double edged sword now. Because she felt guilty, almost, listening religiously - unable to stop herself - while Margaery had no idea.

(she felt very guilty, when, after a particularly in-depth and charged Margaery After Dark, she’d been unable to refrain to touching herself, listening to Margaery’s voice. She’d attempted to just sleep, but had tossed and turned, just hearing Margaery as she’d talked about what turned her on and - well, it had been a show based around female masturbation and Sansa ended up coming listening to Margaery talk about touching herself “Women are complicated, pleasing us takes practice. And most of that practice begins on ourselves.” And she’d paused after, heart pounding, when she’d realized that she was not quiet at all, and all she could do was hope that Margaery hadn’t yet gotten home and heard her)

But it was also almost better in a way, now that she knew Margaery as a person. Because Margaery as a person was so amazing and beautiful and even smarter, even funnier, even more witty, and charming and everything - that getting more of her through her show was just like an added bonus.

The worst part, really, worse than her guilt even was this -

“Yes, thank you for your nosy questions as we discuss relationship goals this Listener’s Choice Wednesday - I will end this segment by saying that I do indeed have my sights set on a very lovely woman.”

That comment came two months into their budding friendship. And it was almost like a punch in the stomach. The mentions of the mystery woman continued through the following weeks -

“She’s ridiculously gorgeous, like you would not even believe.”

“No, we aren’t together, but here I am like a pining fool. I’ve never been this kind of person before, and now - what the hell is wrong with me? Should I be asking you guys for advice now?” (that had actually lead to a great Listener’s Choice Wednesday in which Margaery had largely spoken to listeners comments and engaged with them through a life stream)

“For the first time in my life, I’m worried about making a move. Typically I would have no problem, even if she’s presumed straight. But there’s something about her that I just can’t stand the thought of scaring off.” (okay, and Margaery was just so - sweet? It hurt in good and bad ways).

Especially because Margaery never spoke about Dream Girl - the object of Margaery’s affection had developed a nickname last month - to her, to Sansa. She never brought home any women anymore, at least not that Sansa knew of. And she didn’t mention dates, but in fairness, Sansa didn’t really ask, either.

“For tonight’s After Dark segment, we’re going to discuss fantasies,” Margaery spoke smoothly, her voice sliding through Sansa even as her stomach seemed to tingle, and guilt guilt guilt but she couldn’t stop herself, especially when Margaery delved into aspects of her own fantasy -

“And when bringing up fantasies, personally? It’s impossible for me to not bring up voice. Ironically, I’ve actually never been something that overtly turned me on, but… Dream Girl,” a deep-throated sigh, “We all know she’s gorgeous - well I do, and you all know my thoughts - but it was her voice that just, pulled me in. A little deeper in tone, especially when she’s concentrating or being thoughtful, and it just clings to certain words in a way that can make me instantly wet.”

Desire and jealousy, and she couldn’t stop listening.

“Honestly, at this point, one of my fantasies is for her to tell me exactly what to do. I want to watch her and hear her tell me how to touch myself, for her to touch me and tell me exactly what she is thinking, feeling.”

Torture.

“And, gods, in such a twist of fate, I heard her while she was touching herself. It’s happened a few times. That voice, moaning and whimpering and - I guess that is the delicious torture of living next door and sharing a wall with the object of your affections.”

Everything stopped, her breathing was heavy, and - she could only stare at her ceiling. Hearing things, she must be -

“Truly, all I can say at this point is that my true fantasy is to go next door and make her make all of those sounds myself.”

Sansa yanked out her earbuds, breathing heavy. 

And she did the only thing she could think to do -

She found herself outside of where it all began: Margaery recorded inside of the Chronicle building. She was lucky Margaery had brought her by there a few weeks ago after they’d had lunch, because the security guard had remembered her and let her inside.

She was in her pajamas, with her hair looking rumpled as hell, she was sure, and she could only hear in her head all of the doubts (maybe somehow she’d dozed off and thought Margaery referred to her as Dream Girl? What if she’d misunderstood somehow?) but she was ignoring them because she couldn’t stop herself -

Especially when she tapped on the glass with her shaking fingers, and she saw Margaery cut herself off, surprise taking over her features, before she said something into her mic, before she opened the door -

“I listened to you,” she confessed, her head buzzing and she couldn’t let Margaery get a word out first, “Your show. For months. I - I’d just moved here, and I was so lonely and you made me feel not alone. And I liked you, I just - I liked you the whole time? But I couldn’t tell you that, when I realized we were neighbors because I didn’t want you to think I was some sort of crazy person?” Even though now she was showing up like a crazy person…

“And so I listened in secret and never told you every time we hung out, but I just I liked you so much. Then you - tonight - you said… what you said… about sharing a wall,” gods  she only just realized that meant Margaery had heard her touch herself - thinking about her, though she didn’t know that.

She didn’t know which one of them moaned when Margaery surged up, her hands sliding through Sansa’s hair to press their mouths together. All she knew was that it was the best she’d ever felt, and she didn’t know if her mouth would ever stop tingling like this.

Especially when Margaery pulled back just enough to whisper against her lips, “I’d say this ranks fairly high in the fantasy department, too.”

(when she listened to the show the next day, still dazed and amazed, and realized that Margaery hadn’t paused it when she’d appeared, she realized it was both of them who’d moaned)

[lgcezra]

dated october 1st.

ezra is brought to the head manager’s office early in the morning, separated from the group before their dance practice. once inside, he can immediately see kim hyuncheol standing behind his desk with a very stern expression. “you may close the door behind you and sit down.” he says in surprisingly fluent english. he gestures towards a chair on the other side of the desk facing his own. “i gave my speech in korean last time, so let me speak to you in english to make sure you understand every single word i’m about to say.”

“i don’t know how you do things where you’re from and quite honestly, it doesn’t concern me. you signed a contract with a korean company, so you must follow our rules. you’ve barely spent three months here and yet show blatant disregard for both our trainees and staff members. there have been several reports of you being hungover on company grounds and picking a fight with cha nayeon in the middle of practice, which many found very distasteful. now, since we don’t have actual proof of you being hungover and since the fight with nayeon-ssi seems to be a one time thing, i’m willing to give you the benefit of the doubt. you better believe, however, that from now on and until our suspicions are cleared, we will watch you very, very closely.” does he understand the trouble he’s in yet? hyuncheol doubts it. mistakes are possible but with ezra they just seem to be piling up.

“which brings me to the main event. i’m absolutely ashamed by the way you behaved during your pre-concert interview. i couldn’t believe my ears when i reviewed it with other managers. honestly, at this point, i wonder if you even want to be here. you could be the most talented of your batch and i couldn’t care any less if your personality doesn’t drastically improve. you treated our precious staff member with disrespect during your interview, not to mention our managers by suggesting they treat you with bias. this, young man, is a behavior we do not tolerate in this company. we wouldn’t have tolerated it from bae siwoo himself, so what have you accomplished so far in your life that makes you think you have the right to speak in that tone and treat this great opportunity as a joke? you’ve been here since july, ezra. if you think you’ve been treated unfairly by a staff member, you come to me. but i’d suggest you take a look at yourself before doing that, because you haven’t been very pleasant since your arrival. they’re not here to cater to your every whim.”

he takes a pause, gathering his thoughts and letting ezra take all of the information in. he might be harsh, but the more they let it pass and the more he feels entitled to act that way thinking there won’t be any repercussions.

“prove us that we didn’t make a mistake choosing you. it’s clear that we’ve seen something in you. but so far you’re not letting it show. if you’re going through hardships you need to let us know instead of acting up like this.” there’s no doubt a lot of anger and frustration in this young man, but if he keeps it to himself there’s just so much any of them can do about it.

“now on to your punishment, because i don’t have all day.” he hands ezra a calendar for the month of october. “that is your new schedule for this month. as you can see, you will not be joining regular practice with the other trainees. i believe you aren’t worthy of that privilege at the moment. because yes, it is a privilege whethere you treat your presence here as one or not. i’m not encouraging you to leave, ezra. in fact, i’d love for you to stay and grow. more precisely, grow up, as you mentioned you failed to do in your interview.” maybe ezra won’t believe him right now. maybe he will think they’re out to get him, that they want to kick him out. while they could have, hyuncheol doesn’t want to. he firmly believes in second chances, but it can only happen if ezra plays by the rules. “you will be on service duty instead of training. i hear you’ve been neglecting your mandatory chores, it’s a great opportunity for you to learn a lesson. it’s only natural that we clean up after ourselves. even idols still do it when they use practice rooms. it’s called having respect for your work environment and the maintenance staff who are not here to be your personal servants. you’re of course banned from appearing on the instagram account. we don’t reward bad behavior here at legacy.”

he explains the schedule in more details ( can be found in the ooc note below ), indicating in passage that ezra might receive phone calls or visits at random times during the day to ensure he is exactly where he is supposed to be . he is not to miss any day of duty or take part in any trainee activity or opportunity taking place during the month. “if you build our trust in you again, and take this punishment seriously, we will reassess your situation during the last week of october. this isn’t permanent, ezra, and we wouldn’t be doing this if we didn’t feel it’s necessary.”

once the discussion is over he goes to the door, opening it for ezra. “your future is up to you. if you truly want to be a part of this team, you know what you have to do. now go on, you have a lot to do.”

        of course, he’s in trouble.

        why wouldn’t he be, considering all the things he’s done?  things that hyuncheol has delightfully listed out to him, as if ezra’s been blissfully ignorant of his wrongdoings.

        no, he knows he’s done wrong.  he knows there were better ways to approach each and every situation, but what’s the point in trying if no one expects that out of him?

        he scoffs when hyuncheol brings up the interview.  purses his lips.  folds his arms across his chest as he stares blankly at the head manager.

        of course, hyuncheol is ashamed of his behavior.  how’s that any different from the shame his parents felt raising him to be prim and proper, a son they could be proud of, only to be repaid with a shredded degree, holes in walls, and an empty bed for weeks at a time?  

        truth is, there’s not much of a difference.

        he’s been called to the dinner table, to his father’s office, to his mother’s desk.  each time, they would ask him to close the door.  sit down.  and like hyuncheol, they would proceed to list everything he’s done wrong.  and every time he’d shift to the edge of his seat, his shoulders bent forward, lips parting to make his case—he’d be silenced.  forced to bite his tongue, forced to retreat back into the chair.  hyuncheol should thank his parents for disciplining him, for keeping him seated, small, submissive.

        ‘what have you accomplished so far in your life that makes you think you have the right to speak in that tone?’

        nothing.

        it doesn’t come from a place of arrogance, though he wishes it does.  no, it comes from accomplishing nothing.  he doesn’t have what his sisters have.  he doesn’t have their charisma, their perseverance, their familial connection.  they’re brilliant, successful, good.  and the stronger the light beams on them, raising them to that pedestal they deserve to be on, the farther into the shadow he seeps.

        his parents were thrilled to have a son—someone to carry on the family name—but he’s sure now that they’re thinking it’s better if the line ends with them.

        that doesn’t bother him.

        it’s old news.

        they don’t see anything in him anymore, and they’ve made that perfectly clear by keeping radio silent for the past few months.

        and now, here’s hyuncheol saying that they see something in him.  these are words that he has always wanted to hear—but they don’t sit right.  not in this tone, not in this context.

        the burden of proof is on him.  usually, it is.  and usually, he fucks it up.  sometimes they’re simple human mistakes, but these simple human mistakes end up weighing more ‘cause people have the tendency to look for the bad.  it’s what they’re used to seeing in him.  it’s comfortable, easier to process.

        so if they see him this way regardless, again, what’s the point?

        he peers down at the calendar presented before him.  chores.  punishment.  as if any of this is going to change the perception people have of him.

        “public humiliation seems to run in the company,”  he comments, remembering his first interaction with yang joshua.  "good thing i don’t have much shame.“

        he folds up the piece of paper, tucks it into his pocket, and rises to his feet.  as he approaches the door, his gaze levels with hyuncheol’s own.

        ”see you on friday,“  he says, this time in korean.

===

OOC NOTE:

ezra has been put on probation for the month of october. the reasons are stated in the prompt but if you have any question regarding any part of this prompt, feel free to message us. this of course does not reflect our feelings towards ezra ooc, but there are ic rules that all trainees must follow if they wish to stay in the company for the long run. he will not take part in any training with a coach during the month of october, but he may use empty practice rooms after his work shifts (and is strongly encouraged to do so so he won’t fall behind his peers).

he can’t participate in any activity taking place in october for the time being, which includes the monthly sns post for october. he will be met by kim hyuncheol again in the last week of october to assess how his month has been and of course, if ezra wishes, reinstate him into training with the others. once he joins training again, while he might be observed a little more closely for a while, please know that he will not be held back from participating in activities again and will not be treated any differently than his peers.

below is his schedule for october

monday: serve food at the cafeteria (8am to 5pm)

tuesday: clean bathrooms and locker rooms (8am to 5pm)

wednesday: run errands for managers (8am to 5pm)

thursday: clean floors and practice room mirrors (3pm to 12am)

friday: study korean in hyuncheol’s office with random testing (8am to 5pm)

saturday: sit and do nothing in dorm under manager supervision (8am to 5pm)

sunday: sit and do nothing in hyuncheol’s office under his supervision (8am to 12pm)

if you wish, you can also write one solo of 300 words minimum about any part of his schedule written above to gain +5 korean and a greater chance of being back on kim hyuncheol’s good side at the end of the month. of course, he will still need to be on his best behavior at all times. make sure to submit the link to your solo to lgcmanager before adding your points. while not writing anything won’t impact him negatively, it won’t impact him positively either.  again, if you have any question or worry, please message us. we can help you figure out which activity he can take part in if you’re unsure!

[theonyxpath]

Of course, the big news is how fast the Hunter: The Vigil 2nd Edition Kickstarter funded!

We’ve passed the first Stretch Goal, for the Storyteller Screen as a physical project, and the second, the start of the HtV2e Companion book! And are darn close to the third!

Besides dropping the Hunter 2e text for backers throughout the KS, James and KS crew are also releasing the fiction sections from the book. Developer Monica Valentinelli has brought on renowned writer Cassandra Khaw to create spot-on and compelling fiction vignettes that run the gamut of the eerie experiences of our hunters!

Thanks to all of you who have backer this project, and who continue to converse about it both on the KS page in the Comments and Update Comments sections, as well as on other social media.

Please, keep it up!

We appreciate so much when our awesome community speaks up about what they like about what we are doing, and even when there are criticisms sprinkled in – so long as they are respectful of our talented and awesome creators. We’ve never claimed to be perfect, and can use to know where we can do better!

And for a Kickstarter, getting out there and talking about it is the second-most important and supportive thing any backer can do after they’ve backed the project (which is the number one supportive thing, of course).

Every time you mention the Hunter: The Vigil 2e KS, a hunter gets a new candle!

Vampire: The Requiem 1e art by Cathy Wilkins

If you scroll down to our Media section below, you’ll note that we’ve given you links to, I think, the largest number of Actual Play Streams, Podcasts, YouTube Vids, and our usual jam-packed with goodness Twitch schedule for this week that we’ve ever posted here. (In fact, there are two schedules, the text and the visual, for easy reading no matter your preferred info-graphic style).

So what do you think of that?

Do you enjoy the links we’ve been posting every week; do you click on them? Basically, has our including them helped you further enjoy the many game worlds (One Path) that we offer?

There’s a school of thought that says that new and younger gamers are far more likely to view Twitch streams and YouTube vids for their method of getting into games, rather than older fans who first picked up their books in game stores.

Do you think that’s accurate? I know that when I watch them, and quality can vary, but when I do, I enjoy them. But they aren’t my personal best way of finding out about new games or getting a feel for them. I do know that watching others play is a good intermediate step between just reading game books and actually playing myself – which remains my best way of really digging into a game, personally.

Pugmire art by Cathy Wilkins

We at Onyx Path, as you might imagine, remain dedicated to trying to present our worlds in all the venues that folks use to enjoy this hobby of ours. In fact, you can probably dig up an MMN blog post from when I first started doing these and I’ll be saying that exact thing. So, we keep pushing to get our books into stores in ways that work for us, as well as trying to provide access to more and better streaming events.

We have folks who are extremely engaged with both, and even more, methods of presenting our game lines and worlds. Great looking books, great setting, great game rules, engaging actual play – all of it is important to our collective crew. So we have most of our community’s interests covered, we think.

Really, it all comes down to a fantastic time “at the table” and these are all ways to get there.

Hunters Hunted 2 art by Cathy Wilkins

At the Monday Lunch Meeting today, we did an extra bit of follow-up on company-wide improvements first reviewed during our Onyx Path Summit in January. Some of those are things like further pay increases for our creators, and others are productivity processes that we want to implement.

Not a lot of creative fun stuff, but things that we do that we want to improve as we move forward.

Vampire: The Requiem 2e art by Cathy Wilkins

One of things we are looking at is to further explain just what we are doing with our Community Content sites: The StoryPath Nexus – currently for Scion and Trinity Continuum projects, The Slarecian Vault for Scarred Land projects, and Canis Minor for Realms of Pugmire stuff.

We have created the sites, provided templates, made up art-packs, and set up the rules for what can and can’t go up on the sites. But, and this is a biggie, the projects up there are not our projects. They are not official, they are not “canon”.

Except as much as they are useful for your gaming group, or are useful and fun to read through. More options, more ideas = great!

Our hope is that Community Content creators try and keep to the tone and intention we use in the official projects we ourselves are creating, while being able to explore subjects and parts of the worlds we aren’t able or interested in delving into.

If that doesn’t happen, well, we’re looking to have a pretty standardized set of responses that we’ll go through. We want Community Content creators to feel like they have the freedom to create, not that we are looking over their shoulders. We also have a responsibility to each of the game lines, and Onyx Path as a whole, as well as our community. So, it’s not cut and dried. Expect that there’ll be some bumpier parts to the ride as we get things figured out.

But we will. We always do.

Vampire: The Requiem 1e art by Cathy Wilkins

One other thing that came up. Up above I named the three Community Content sites we have currently. That’s all of them. We have no connection and derive no direct payments or benefits from the Storytellers Vault for the White Wolf IPs. Even for projects based on game lines we created. So, if you do have issues with the SV, ya gotta reach out to Paradox/WW.

Yep, there sure are a lot of ways to get your gaming goodness these days. And yep, it can be confusing, we know. If you don’t know what we’re doing vs somebody else, I suggest reaching out on our social media. Our Facebook page, our Twitter, our official Discord channels. We have folks there that can help you. We even have handy graphics created by Ian Watson or Meredith Gerber that break down what we are publishing by whether we own it, are working with folks, or license it.

It is indeed a brave new world in terms of TTRPG gaming. And in our case it’s a brave:

Many Worlds, One Path!

BLURBS!

Kickstarter!

Hunter: The Vigil 2nd Edition for Chronicles of Darkness is on the hunt! We funded and shot right through the Storyteller Screen Stretch Goal and through Tending the Flame: Cells chapter PDF Stretch Goal for the Hunter Players’ Companion all in 5 days!

Onyx Path Media!

This Friday’s Onyx Pathcast features the recording of the LIVE! PATHCAST! that will run on Wednesday the 12th at 5pm Eastern US time! You can listen in on Wednesday, and even call in and chat with the Titanic Trio ON THE PATHCAST! Check out the LIVE PATHCAST direct on Podbean, and then as always the Friday version will be on Podbean or your favorite podcast venue! https://onyxpathcast.podbean.com/

What a damn schedule we have on Twitch this week! You can look forward to Vampire: The Masquerade, Chronicles of Darkness, Pugmire, Hunter: The Vigil 2nd Edition, even more Vampire: The Masquerade, Changeling: The Lost, Changeling: The Dreaming, Mage: The Awakening, Scarred Lands, and yet another Vampire: The Masquerade game! We even have a return to Eddy’s Development Workshop!

A special shout-out to the Hunter: The Vigil game that ran last week, which may rank as our most watched stream so far! You can subscribe to our channel over on twitch.tv/theonyxpath to catch up with any episodes you missed!

Come take a look at our YouTube channel, youtube.com/user/theonyxpath, where you can find the following videos uploaded last week alone:

Pugmire: Paws & Claws: https://youtu.be/vuLz5nnm20A

Mummy: The Curse Q&A: https://youtu.be/14b8FtpOhsE

Blood City: Chicago by Night: https://youtu.be/ih6gCS_QlGM

Changeling: The Lost – Littlebrook Reunion: https://youtu.be/Bb2W3YXVOa0

Changeling: The Dreaming – Gifted & Talented: https://youtu.be/PI1DOGqxKZs

A special shout-out to the Primogen‘s long-running Changeling: The Lost game over on our channel. He’s an excellent Storyteller and we really recommend you check out his work!

Ekorren gives us a fantastic deep dive into the Trinity Continuum here in this excellent video: https://youtu.be/Vk0UJbWijtg

Some new Occultists Anonymous for all you Mage: The Awakening lovers out there:

Episode 78: Ghosts, Spirits, & Coffee While Songbird is under the care of Tasos, Wyrd and Atratus see to their own personal connections back at the Leaf Theater and the Puck Building. https://youtu.be/bWM3ioUrVlM

Episode 79: MGN2: Electric Boogaloo Wyrd and Atratus take Titus and Jimmy to meet some werewolves, as way of introduction and apology. Then new plans are laid for their journey into the Astral Realm of the Temenos.https://youtu.be/q2A7MrIo2fY

Check out the Botch Pit‘s Beginner’s Guide to Changeling: The Lost’s courts right here: https://youtu.be/A_huXzRyghY

Red Moon Roleplaying continue their actual play of V5 Cults of the Blood Gods, on their YouTube channel, Spotify, their website redmoonroleplaying.com and everywhere else good podcasts might be found! https://youtu.be/oeavJcCQ9vw

In case you missed it, the Story Told Podcast have commenced a new Geist: The Sin-Eaters 2nd Edition actual play right here: http://thestorytold.libsyn.com/the-78-laments-1

Do check out Matthew Dawkins’ naughty interview for the 25 Years of Vampire: The Masquerade podcast right here. https://utilitymuffinlabs.com/25-years-of-vampire-the-masquerade/2020/1/30/cults-of-the-blood-gods-interview-episode-153

Please check any of these out and let us know if you find or produce any actual plays of our games!

Electronic Gaming!

As we find ways to enable our community to more easily play our games, the Onyx Dice Rolling App is live! Our dev team has been doing updates since we launched based on the excellent use-case comments by our community, and this thing is awesome! (Seriously, you need to roll 100 dice for Exalted? This app has you covered.)

On Amazon and Barnes & Noble!

You can now read our fiction from the comfort and convenience of your Kindle (from Amazon) and Nook (from Barnes & Noble).

If you enjoy these or any other of our books, please help us by writing reviews on the site of the sales venue from which you bought it. Reviews really, really help us get folks interested in our amazing fiction!

Our selection includes these latest fiction books:

Our Sales Partners!

We’re working with Studio2 to get Pugmire and Monarchies of Mau out into stores, as well as to individuals through their online store. You can pick up the traditionally printed main book, the screen, and the official Pugmire dice through our friends there! https://studio2publishing.com/search?q=pugmire

We’ve added Prince’s Gambit to our Studio2 catalog: https://studio2publishing.com/products/prince-s-gambit-card-game

Now, we’ve added Changeling: The Lost 2nd Edition products to Studio2‘s store! See them here: https://studio2publishing.com/collections/all-products/changeling-the-lost

Scarred Lands (Pathfinder) books are also on sale at Studio2, and they have the 5e version, supplements, and dice as well!: https://studio2publishing.com/collections/scarred-lands

Scion 2e books and other products are available now at Studio2: https://studio2publishing.com/blogs/new-releases/scion-second-edition-book-one-origin-now-available-at-your-local-retailer-or-online

Looking for our Deluxe or Prestige Edition books? Try this link! http://www.indiepressrevolution.com/xcart/Onyx-Path-Publishing/

And you can order Pugmire, Monarchies of Mau, Cavaliers of Mars, and Changeling: The Lost 2e at the same link! And NOW Scion Origin and Scion Hero AND Trinity Continuum Core and Trinity Continuum: Aeon are available to order!

As always, you can find Onyx Path’s titles at DriveThruRPG.com!

On Sale This Week!

This Wednesday, we will be releasing the Advance PDF for Spilled Blood for Vampire: The Requiem 2e on DTRPG!

This book includes antagonists for both Vampire: The Requiem and other Chronicles of Darkness games. Including: • Ten new bloodlines to serve as both antagonists and player character options. • Two new antagonistic covenants. • Several lost clans with reasons to both hate and work with Kindred. • Myriad antagonists who prey on vampires, either as diseases or those who need Vitae.

Conventions!

More conventions will be listed for 2020 in the weeks to come-

And now, the new project status updates!

DEVELOPMENT STATUS FROM EDDY WEBB (projects in bold have changed status since last week):

First Draft (The first phase of a project that is about the work being done by writers, not dev prep)

Exalted Essay Collection (Exalted)

N!ternational Wrestling Entertainment (Trinity Continuum: Aberrant)

Contagion Chronicle Ready-Made Characters (Chronicles of Darkness)

Trinity Continuum: Adventure! core (Trinity Continuum: Adventure!)

TC: Aberrant Jumpstart (Trinity Continuum: Aberrant)

RUST (Working Title) (Scarred Lands)

Under Alien Suns (Trinity Continuum: Aeon)

Mission Statements (Trinity Continuum: Aeon)

Adversaries of the Righteous (Exalted 3rd Edition)

Hundred Devil’s Night Parade (Exalted 3rd Edition)

Novas Worldwide (Trinity Continuum: Aberrant)

Exalted Essence Edition (Exalted 3rd Edition)

The Clades Companion (Deviant: The Renegades)

The Devoted Companion (Deviant: The Renegades)

Saints and Monsters (Scion 2nd Edition)

Redlines

Kith and Kin (Changeling: The Lost 2e)

Dragon-Blooded Novella #2 (Exalted 3rd Edition)

Duke Rollo fiction (Trinity Continuum: Aberrant)

Second Draft

M20 Victorian Mage (Mage: the Ascension 20th Anniversary Edition)

Exigents (Exalted 3rd Edition)

Crucible of Legends (Exalted 3rd Edition)

Many-Faced Strangers – Lunars Companion (Exalted 3rd Edition)

Development

Heirs to the Shogunate (Exalted 3rd Edition)

TC: Aberrant Reference Screen (Trinity Continuum: Aberrant)

Scion: Demigod (Scion 2nd Edition)

Across the Eight Directions (Exalted 3rd Edition)

Contagion Chronicle: Global Outbreaks (Chronicles of Darkness)

Manuscript Approval

Scion: Dragon (Scion 2nd Edition)

Masks of the Mythos (Scion 2nd Edition)

Trinity Continuum Jumpstart (Trinity Continuum Core)

Contagion Chronicle Jumpstart (Chronicles of Darkness)

Post-Approval Development

Scion LARP Rules (Scion)

One Foot in the Grave Jumpstart (Geist: The Sin-Eaters 2e)

Player’s Guide to the Contagion Chronicle (Chronicles of Darkness)

Editing

Lunars: Fangs at the Gate (Exalted 3rd Edition)

Geist 2e Fiction Anthology (Geist: The Sin-Eaters 2nd Edition)

Dragon-Blooded Novella #1 (Exalted 3rd Edition)

Legendlore core book (Legendlore)

Mythical Denizens (Creatures of the World Bestiary) (Scion 2nd Edition)

Pirates of Pugmire KS-Added Adventure (Realms of Pugmire)

Terra Firma (Trinity Continuum: Aeon)

Deviant: The Renegades (Deviant: The Renegades)

Lunars Novella (Rosenberg) (Exalted 3rd Edition)

Buried Bones: Creating in the Realms of Pugmire (Realms of Pugmire)

Monsters of the Deep (They Came From Beneath the Sea!)

Tales of Aquatic Terror (They Came From Beneath the Sea!)

Mummy: The Curse 2nd Edition core rulebook (Mummy: The Curse 2nd Edition)

Titanomachy (Scion 2nd Edition)

Post-Editing Development

City of the Towered Tombs (Cavaliers of Mars)

W20 Shattered Dreams Gift Cards (Werewolf: The Apocalypse 20th)

Scion Companion: Mysteries of the World (Scion 2nd Edition)

Cults of the Blood Gods (Vampire: The Masquerade 5th Edition)

Hunter: The Vigil 2e core (Hunter: The Vigil 2nd Edition)

Let the Streets Run Red (Vampire: The Masquerade 5th Edition)

M20 The Technocracy Reloaded (Mage: the Ascension 20th Anniversary Edition)

WoD Ghost Hunters (World of Darkness)

Trinity Continuum: Aberrant core (Trinity Continuum: Aberrant)

Indexing

ART DIRECTION FROM MIKE CHANEY!

In Art Direction

Trinity Continuum: Aberrant

Hunter: The Vigil 2e (KS) – Running on KS.

Ex3 Lunars – Art is in.

Cults of the Blood God (KS)

Mummy 2 (KS)

City of the Towered Tombs – Recontracted.

Let the Streets Run Red – Contracted, using three new artists.

CtL Oak Ash and Thorn – Contracted.

Deviant

Legendlore (KS) – Pulling assets, getting new art for KS.

Technocracy Reloaded (KS) – More KS art contracted.

Scion Companion – Contacting artists with Meredith.

TC: Aeon Terra Firma – Contracted.

WoD: Ghost Stories (KS) – Cover contracted.

Tales of Aquatic Terror

In Layout

Pirates of Pugmire – With Aileen.

Yugman’s Guide to Ghelspad – Ongoing.

Scion Mythical Denizens – In proofing but need some full page art to come in.

Contagion Chronicle – With Josh.

Vigil Watch – Getting first release ready for this month.

TCfBtS!: Heroic Land Dwellers

Night Horrors: Nameless and Accursed

Proofing

Dark Eras 2 – Errata being annotated and then back to Aileen.

Trinity Continuum Aeon Jumpstart

They Came from Beneath the Sea! – Inputting errata.

Chicago Folio – Approved by WW, out to backers this week for errata.

Wraith20 Anthology – Errata from backers ending.

Trinity Continuum Aeon: Distant Worlds – Going to dev.

At Press

V5: Chicago – Shipping to stores, scheduled to go on sale this month.

Geist 2e (Geist: The Sin-Eaters 2nd Edition) – Shipping to backers, PoD files uploaded.

Geist 2e Screen – Shipping to backers.

DR:E – At fulfillment shippers, PoD files uploaded.

DRE Screen – At fulfillment shippers.

DR:E Threat Guide – Helnau’s Guide to Wasteland Beasties

Memento Mori – PoD files uploaded.

Trinity Continuum: Aeon RMCs – PoD files uploaded.

VtR Spilled Blood – Advance PDF on sale this Wednesday on DTRPG.

Today’s Reason to Celebrate!

Today we celebrate the creative life of one of our favorite artists, Cathy Wilkins, who passed away last week. She was one of the nicest people Mike and I have had the pleasure to art direct, and as nice as she was, her talent was even greater. I knew that when I scrambled to get art for our early CofD (nWoD) projects that having Cathy working on the project guaranteed beautiful illustrations – and that she would make the extra effort to follow up on details that tied to the text she was given. We will all miss her, and as a small memorial, all the art inside this weeks MMN blog is work she did for us in the past.

[fuck-customers]

This is a fuck managers. I'm an assistant night manager at a company I've worked for for over 5 years, management for almost the whole time (I stepped down to go back to college but bills made me take another manager position). In December, my store got a new GM, and when he started, I told him that my classes this semester interfere with my work hours (I graduate in May, these are literally the last classes I need and also the only times offered). He said it shouldn't be a problem. My other night manager was fine working every tuesday and thursday for me until I graduate but the second week of class on Monday, she got a promotion to another store and was going to be transferred at the end of the week.

That Wednesday, I needed to come in at 6 instead of 2 and one of my friends who works the morning shift at the store was texting me and saying that the GM was talking about how my schedule wasn't going to work and how he was mad that I needed to come in late and around 8pm he told me that he needed someone who could work the company required rotation, knowing that I couldn't do it so basically telling me to step down from my management spot. I tried to offer coming in tuesdays and thursdays after my classes, but I wouldn't get there until 7 and he said no and it was so frustrating that he didn't want to work with me on it at all. Instead of just agreeing to step down, I told him that I would ask the District Manager to find me another store to work at, and he said okay and that he could only keep me for two more weeks. This was January 23rd. I interviewed with another District Manager 3 days later for a morning management spot. Eventually I end up accepting the spot at the corporate store on the 7th and since the two week deadline was gonna be up, I was ready to transfer and move on. Then I get a call from my new DM, telling me that I have to wait two more weeks because the GM who imposed the time limit had already planned the next schedule with me on it!

How on earth are you gonna basically ruin my life by putting me in a potential tough spot financially and stress me out in my last semester and when you're about to get what you wanted, you suddenly need me for two more weeks??? And the guy who came to take my friend's position had been promised my spot but now that they're not going to give him the promotion he's planning on quitting once he finds another job and honestly I can't blame him. Now the GM won't have any night management and most of the staff is going to leave after I'm gone so he won't even have a crew to work because they all hate him and the managers they liked will be gone. If he tries to keep me for another two weeks, I'm giving him the ultimatum to let me transfer or I'm not leaving and he's just going to deal with my school schedule.

TLDR; General Manager knocked over the wrong domino and now his store is going to have basically no staff because he couldn't just work with my school schedule for not even 4 months.

[archaeologysucks]

How my work schedule evolved this week:

I originally had a job interview scheduled for lunchtime on Monday with Company A, two long days of survey with Company B scheduled for Tuesday and Wednesday, and nothing on Thursday and Friday.

Monday: The interview went well, and I’m now working for 5 different companies. Also on Monday, Company B contacted me to let me know the survey was revised, and it would not be two long days; it might just be one regular day on Tuesday.

Tuesday: Went out to survey with Company B, and some of the probes came up positive, which meant we would have to come out for a second day after all, but it might not be a full day. Also got a call from Company C, asking me if I was available for monitoring Wednesday and Thursday. Told them I was available Thursday, but not Wednesday, due to surveying with Company B. Company C contacted me again later in the day to say that monitoring was pushed to Thursday/Friday, which I told them I was available for.

Wednesday: Went into the field again with Company B to complete the survey. This ended up taking until about 1:00 PM. I opted not to go into the office for the afternoon, since getting in and out of downtown is a huge hassle, I had new employee paperwork to complete for Company A, and I already had work lined up with Company C for Thursday/Friday. Came home, took a shower, got a call from Company C saying no monitoring this week after all. *sigh*

Thursday: Currently working on new employee paperwork for Company A, figuring out new timesheet system for Company C, and worrying about the fact that I only worked 17 hours this week.

Last night, I went over my taxes from the last 10 years, looking at my total income, and found that it has not gone up appreciably in the last 4 years. In fact, 2015 was my best year of the last 4. Not good, considering housing costs have increased by 25-50% in the greater Seattle area during that time. Mathing it out, it looks like I only end up working about 20 hours per week, on average. This is dismal, and explains why I am just barely scraping by, in spite of my hourly rate being $20-$23.

It also sounds like I might not be able to get a mortgage, because my income is coming from 4 different sources, and while it has gone up with some of them over the past year, it has gone down with others (because, you know, I can’t be in two places at once, so I go with whoever schedules me first). In spite of my overall income remaining fairly steady, mortgage lenders are not keen on income stream fluctuations. At the same time, landlords do not like seeing irregular numbers on pay stubs.

I need to find a better, steadier way to make money, if I want to be able to afford to live anywhere.

[sleepyverstappens]

Let me share this whole new world with you (Chapter 3/6)

Title: Let me share this whole new world with you

Pairing: Daniel Ricciardo/Max Verstappen

Rating: Gen/PG

Word Count: 5482

Tags: Oliver Verstappen-Ricciardo, Original Child Character, 5+1

Summary: Time for some home GPs :D

A/N:  Just a reminder, Max talks Dutch with Oliver when he’s younger/alone with him. Apart from a few Dutch sentences/words, that should be clear enough through context, but will also be translated in the end notes, most of it is written in English but in italics to indicate that it’s spoken in Dutch.

Read chapter 3 or Read from the start

2) Melbourne, Zandvoort & Monaco 2024

Melbourne 2024

Oliver’s tiny hand is clutching onto his own as they walk into the Red Bull garage, big headphones already covering his ears as engines are revved. His wispy blond hair is almost white from the sun it had gotten during the winter break spend in Australia and is now starting to fall over his eyes, in desperate need of a haircut.

“You stay with Vicky yeah, Papa’s gotta go drive the car now,” he said trying to push the strands of hair from Oliver’s eyes one last time.

“‘kay Papa, be safe,” the little boy mumbled back, the words always tugging at his heartstrings. He’d picked them up from his mum, the words always said by her every time he stepped into the car, whether it was in person or via text.

“I will Oli.”

After 2 weeks of testing in Spain and plenty of time spend in the Red Bull and Renault factories, winter break was now really over, the first practice session of the season about to start. Pre-season hadn’t been the easiest on them. Even with Enstone and Milton Keynes only being an hour apart, their rental place somewhere in the middle, they’d barely gotten the time to spend together, both of them exhausted from long days at the factory. They’d both crashed pretty much as soon as they’d managed to get Oli to sleep. At least with testing they’d had to be on track opposite each other, one of them getting to spend their day with their son as the other worked up miles on the racetrack.  

Now though they were finally back in Melbourne. He loved Melbourne, a fresh start to a new season where everything was possible again. Over the years he’d been with Daniel it had become sort of a home race for him as well. A home race without the busy schedule that Zandvoort or Spa brought. While for Daniel it meant a jam packed schedule and barely any time for his family, for Max it meant he got to spend some time with his extended family. Grace, Joe and Michelle always happy to have Max to keep them company whilst their son and brother was rushed about the circuit. And of course these last two years they had all been excited to get to spend some extra time with their grandson and nephew as well.

He grabs his helmet and glances back at his son one more time, the boy happily playing with the toy car his assistant had given him. The bright yellow Renault shirt he’s wearing is clashing terribly with the colours around them, but even though Oliver had insisted on going with his papa today he’d refused to wear the Red Bull shirt to go along with it. No amount of playful teasing from the Red Bull crew had made him want to change it either, the boy happy in his ‘nana shirt.

With how quickly Oliver seemed to change his mind nowadays, the terrible twos finally rearing their ugly head just a few months before he would turn three, he would probably insist on wearing his Red Bull shirt at Renault on race day. He might be a handful at times, but Max loved him with all his being and he loved having him at the track with them.

---

Come race day he’s on his own at the garage, Oliver at Renault to spend time with Daniel’s family, it’s his home grand prix after all. It doesn’t mean Max doesn’t miss seeing his boy at the back of the garage though, his toothy grin the last thing he sees before strapping himself into the number 33 car. It makes him miss the old days sometimes, the days when he’d only have to look towards the other side of the garage to see curly hair and a bright smile. What he’d give to have been able to share that with his son, their son. Both of them giving him a kiss on each cheek for luck before they jumped into the car on their respective side of the garage.

It would never be like that, Alex now a permanent fixture on the other side of the garage, the man now his teammate for longer than Daniel had been. Them parting ways, so to speak, had probably been for the best. Made it easier for them to separate work and home, their battles now with their respective teams rather than each other.  

He’s shaken from his thought by Tom handing him his helmet, reminding him that there was installation lap to be driven, the clock steadily ticking down to 16.10.  

Zandvoort 2024

Home races were always special, while he was lucky to have fans come out in droves to quite a few tracks, the stands turning orange all over the world, Zandvoort was something else. The success of the first three years had made sure that Zandvoort would be a permanent fixture on the race calendar for the foreseeable future. And whilst the crowd was still mostly orange in its 5th year on the calendar he was happy to see that more and more different coloured specks had started to show up in the crowd. It’s what made the sport so special after all, there weren’t just the fans of two teams there like in football, there was a mixture of fans, even people who changed their shirts on each day of the weekend not being able to choose a favourite.

It was still all very hectic though, he’d flown into the Netherlands on Monday and had had pretty much every minute of his day scheduled from then on. Daniel and Oliver had followed on Wednesday, the hugs from his family a welcome reprieve from all the formal handshakes and (fake) nicery from the last few days.

Today hadn’t been much better, a room of bored looking media people staring at him, Lando, George and Daniil followed by a multitude of microphones waiting for him in the press pen. The pen was empty of other drivers by the time he’d been done with his last interview. He’d looked over at Vicky expecting her to tell him where he was needed next, but she hadn’t had anything planned for the next hour or two. Which is how he’d found himself here, his shoes getting filled with sand as he climbed down from the dune and onto the beach.

It wasn’t all that warm yet, the winds were strong and would surely be a big factor during the weekend, making him zip up his hoodie as he walked towards his family. He could see Victoria chasing after Oliver near the shore, his mum and Daniel chatting, sat atop a giant spread out blanket.

None of them had spotted him yet, only Victoria knowing that he had found himself some free time and was coming over, happy to help him surprise the others. He continued walking towards them, his shoes collecting more and more sand, and saw Oliver turn around still trying to avoid getting caught by his auntie. The second Oliver spotted him he was running towards him, yelling out Papa! and alerting the others of his presence. Max grinned as Oli jumped into his arms, pressing a kiss against the boy’s forehead as his son immediately started telling him all about his day.

“Hey,” he greeted his family, settling down next to them, Oli cuddling up on his lap.

“Hey, I thought you were busy for the rest of the day?” Dan asked him before pressing a kiss against his lips, a curious smile on his face when they drew apart again.

“I thought so as well, but Vicky doesn’t need me again until 4. Victoria told me you guys were on the beach and I didn’t want to miss that did I?” He addressed the last part to Oliver, bouncing him in his lap a little and ruffling his hair making the little boy giggle.

“Papa, kasteel?”

“You want to build a castle? Okay then go get your bucket.”

Soon enough not only his shoes were filled with sand, his hair and clothes covered by the sand as well, but an impressive, if he said so himself, sandcastle was standing proud in front of him.

“Come on Oli, let’s fill the moat to finish our showpiece.” He hoisted Oliver up onto his shoulders and ran over towards the sea, the plastic bucket hitting him in the head as he went, but the giggles floating along the wind more than made up for it.

The racing started tomorrow, the campsites already filled with thousands of people dressed in orange, but this right now is what he loved the most. He had never expected himself to love something more than racing, his whole life had been revolved around the sport, but now that he had this, a family of his own he’d give it up in a second if someone made him choose.

Monaco 2024

“Hello little man, are you lost?” They heard Lewis say, Oliver having ran right into him, the Brit’s hands reaching out for him before he could tumble over.

“Up?” Oli requested, hands already reaching up for Lewis, head tilted backwards with what were surely his best puppy dog eyes. They could see the other man melt before their eyes, one of Oliver’s many victims this weekend.

“You don’t have to,” Dan jumps in, but before the words could even fully leave his mouth Oliver was already in Lewis’ arms, the little boy happily snuggling his head against the man’s chest.

“It’s okay, I love kids, makes me miss when my cousins were this small. Don’t get me wrong I love playing soccer and games with them, but most of them are at that age now where they’re refusing cuddles.”

“Oh but you haven’t seen a two-year-old throwing a tantrum huh, uncle,” Dan said with a wink, clearly not having forgotten the fit Oliver threw earlier that morning, the boy refusing to eat his toast because it was cut into squares instead of triangles. Daniel had been close to pulling his hair out before Max had come into the kitchen after his shower and reminded him that squares could be cut into triangles, the boy’s cries stopping as soon as Max had cut the first one in half.  

Dan and Lewis fall into an easy conversation then, Oli sucking his thumb, eyes flicking between the two adults intently. Max should probably join in, instead of just standing here, but he can’t help but let his mind wander. He’d seen Lewis change a bit during this season, it was only the 7th race of the year, but the fact that these would be Lewis’ last races had shown a different side of the man. He would never refuse to talk to you if you started up a conversation before, but would usually stick to himself if he could. Nowadays he was happy to mingle with the rest of them. Noise cancelling earphones exchanged for friendly conversations on the drivers parades, relaxed walks through the paddock rather than quick scooter rides right into the garage. It made Max wonder whether he would change, once his time came. Not that that would be any time soon if it was up to him.  

Lewis’ announcement hadn’t exactly been a shock to people, 39 was already a pretty old age to retire, if you excluded Kimi of course. Still the knowledge that Lewis’ records would soon be up there ready and waiting for someone else to take them away again, had made the press go into overdrive, churning out article after article. Max didn’t really care about that though, he cared about the conversations he’d had with Lewis over the last few race weekends. About his plans to start his own fashion company, not just a fashion line but a proper brand of his own. The plan to travel to all the countries they’d been to so often but had never really gotten the chance to see properly. The wish for a child of his own, the registration for the adoption agency ready to be send off.

He’d not always liked the other man, had had more than enough moments where he’d despised him, but seeing him like this, happily chatting with Dan, Oliver now asleep in his arms, it made Max realise he would really miss him next year.

---

“Papa, kijk!” Oliver exclaimed as they crossed the street towards the harbour, the Red Bull yacht already pumping out music. That wasn’t what the little boy had spotted though, no he’d spotted the giant inflatable unicorn floating in the swimming pool.

“Wat is dat dan Oli?” They’d pretty early on decided to try and raise Oliver bilingual, Max talking only Dutch to him to try and get him to pick up Max’s native language alongside English. Max often tried to use German as well, after all now was the best time to try and teach their son more languages.

“Eehoon.”

“Eenhoorn, Oliver,” Max corrected him gently, the word still sounding silly to him in his mother tongue as well. “You want to go swimming sweetie?”  

Oliver nodded his head so excitedly Max was almost afraid it was gonna fall off. They had some time to spare between the last free practice session and qualifying. Whilst Oliver had of course been with them last year, this was the first time he really got to take in the Monaco grand prix weekend. The streets of his home transformed into the tracks where his fathers got to race their fast cars. He still didn’t understand it fully, the city not all that recognisable anymore after all, and this wasn’t the part of the city where they actually lived, but seeing the excitement on their son’s face never failed to make them melt.

They quickly changed Oliver into his swimming trunks, Red Bull branded floaties wrapped around his arms to go along with them. As soon as they reached the pool he was pointing at the giant unicorn again, clearly wanting to sit on it. They waited for it to slowly float its way to the side of the pool, the currents of people wading their feet in the water making it bop up and down in every direction before Daniel shouted for someone to push it towards them. No one was surprised to see Daniel there, even with it having been six years now since he’d gotten to swim into this pool himself. It wasn’t uncommon to see Daniel back at the Red Bull hospitality these days though, nor Max at Renault’s for that matter, having a child who wanted to see both of his daddies would do that for you.

Oliver’s giggles were barely audible over the music coming from the dj booth on the other side of the deck, but they managed to go straight through to Max’s heart anyway. The boy was now sat atop the floating animal, clutching onto its rainbow mane as Daniel pushed it around the edge of the pool, not caring about the people sitting in their way.

They finished the lap of the pool, Max taking hold of the unicorn as Dan took his shoes off to join him on the edge of the pool, and just taking it all in for a while.

“Papa, kiss!” Oliver requested excitedly, his tiny little body already leaning towards him. Max grabbed hold of him before he could fall off the floatie and pressed a kiss to his son’s lips.  They would need to go and prepare for quali soon, but right now as he sat on the edge of the pool, his feet in the warm water, his son happily splashing his feet into the water as he sat atop his unicorn, he couldn’t help but wish for more time.  

[fencheto]

Forbidden - Part 4 (Dimon Romantic)

The story can also be found on Wattpad You can find the previous chapters here Feedback is greatly appreciated.

[caidsjacks]

Hi guys, so this is embarrassing and awkward. I hate having to ask but here we go

My job has basically taken me and two other people off of the schedule because the company isn’t doing well and they’re taking it out on their employees. I’ve had three interviews in the last two weeks and I have a second interview for one of those places on Wednesday. @neonstahli has a job interview Wednesday as well. The only problem is I have no money left in my savings. I have $4 in my bank account. We have Rent, electricity, internet, and a few credit card payments due at the beginning of the month. and even if I get this job on Wednesday, we still wont have enough to pay rent next month. 

If anyone could help I would really really appreciate it.

I love writing, so if there’s anything you want written, I would gladly give it a go.

I really do hate asking, but I am desperate. I’m trying so hard to get things under control and have a positive mental attitude about everything but i’m so stressed out and so god damn afraid of losing everything and it sucks, I hate feeling like a damn failure... so I’m asking, and technically begging for help at this point...

  I finally have something promising on Wednesday, I just need some help getting through the next month until I get a paycheck.

If you want to donate you can click here

I would honest to god appreciate it

Thank you