#anyway y’all wouldn’t treat a white character like this he has so much character to explore!!
Note
the pattern of chim being totally mischaracterized and turned into an asshole pisses me the fuck off
yeah!!! like chim was the first member of the 118 we see now and if he hadn’t changed the patterns it would not be what it is (or he just wouldn’t be part of it).
he even managed to forgive and bridge gaps with the old 118 to the point that when he’s off-duty he uses his connections to save his team??? he loves them so much and i can’t imagine him being mean to anyone for more than a day without realizing what he’s doing and asking for forgiveness. and i actually can’t read even really imagine him being mean besides a badly placed tease or being a bystander to someone else’s comment. (and anyway a super interesting fic idea and point of growth i could imagine for chim is some type of conversation with hen about how things went down when she joined. like his position was somewhat precarious on the team, but he could have done more. but it’s also part of being human— how many of us would have done more?)
and every part about his relationship with Maddie screams the furthest thing from being an asshole. it would’ve been understandable to have walked away after literally being stabbed, but he didn’t. he could’ve carried on after she left, carrying for Jee Yun and grieving on his own, but he didn’t. hell, he’s still good friends with her after breaking up and is the furthest thing from possessive.
everything with Albert also just shows his kindness. despite not knowing the kid, ultimately he lets him into his life, cares for him every step of the way. sure, he messes up at the beginning, but he apologizes and fixes it. (the same way buck did with eddie btw, without a traumatic bomb defusing to go with)
anyway justice for chim he deserves all the love pls send me fic recs with good chim characterization <3
#and he loves his mom so much it’s beautiful#anyway y’all wouldn’t treat a white character like this he has so much character to explore!!#chimney han#howard han#howie han#maddie buckley#jee yun buckley han#albert han#henrietta wilson#911 fox
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love me or we both go down | kth
summary: after going through with an arranged marriage to please his parents and secure his inheritance of the family business, kim taehyung thinks he’s got it all figured out. he doesn’t. apparently just being married to you isn’t enough, not when everybody and their mother can pick up on the fact that the two of you absolutely loathe each other. but taehyung wants his inheritance one way or another, so he decides that desperate times call for desperate measures: the two of you need to fall in love, and you need to fall in love fast.
{enemies to lovers!au, arranged marriage!au, rich kids!au}
pairing: kim taehyung x female reader
genre: fluff, angst, smut (i know, crazy right?)
word count: 32k
warnings: oral sex (m & f receiving), fingering, penetrative sex, multiple unprotected sex scenes (they’re married y’all), fat cock tae, tae has a wife kink, lots of praise, alcohol consumption (but they’re safe), minor character death (not explicit), mentions of heart attack, slow burn like there is no tomorrow
a/n: hello and welcome to the fic everyone, literally everyone, has been waiting for! i am so, so, so excited to share this with you all, especially because none other than rose @kinktae helped me write the smut, and i am literally forever indebted to her. you all better go spam rose with all the love and support you can because this fic would not be here without her and i love her so much.
also, to all my readers who aren’t comfortable reading smut, please know that the smut in this fic is not imperative to the storyline, and you skipping past it will not affect your reading experience., enjoy!
Never in your life have wedding bells felt so ominous.
The sound of them is akin to the sound of strings, of a single piano note in a horror movie, right when the film opens and someone random is about to die on screen for the sake of proving to the audience that this is, in fact, a horror movie. Make no mistake about it; these wedding bells spell doom for you, too. And the most horrific part about them is that just like that poor, helpless soul in the movie, there is no way for you to escape your fate either.
With only seconds left to go before you have no choice but to promise yourself to the man waiting at the other end of the aisle, you desperately try to think of any last-ditch efforts to get out of this. Many, if not all of them, are utterly useless.
Feigning sudden illness won’t work, because then your parents will just reschedule the wedding to a later date. Running away is fruitless. Where will you go? The parking lot?
If only you had a lover out there in the audience somewhere that could object to the marriage when the officiant says, “Speak now, or forever hold your peace.” A knight in shining armor that could whisk you out of the venue and off to a new life, far away from here. Too bad all of the people you’ve dated before hate you now.
Maybe getting married isn’t such a bad thing after all. Instead of having relationships with multiple people who will eventually despise your existence, you only have to have a relationship with one. And the feeling, as has always been, is mutual.
You bristle as your assistants do some last-minute prepping, fixing your sleeve and adjusting your necklace and making sure you don’t trip on your enormous train. They flutter around you like a swarm of well-meaning but ignorant butterflies complicit in the agenda of your family. None of them have said a word to you about the wedding ever since you arrived at the venue, choosing to talk more about things like the weather. Not that you were ever under the impression they had been hired to entertain you. Maybe they were told to not engage you, just in case you try to conspire with them.
As if they could be of any use in your wildly unrealistic escape plans.
The truth is that, unless you were to drop dead on this marble flooring right now, you’re getting married. Whether you like it or not.
The doors open.
You’ve attended red carpets, galas, award shows, and balls. You’ve had hundreds of cameras flashing in your face, the bright light capturing each and every centimeter of you. You’ve had paparazzi waiting outside the restaurants you eat at, the stores you shop at, desperate to catch a picture of you in sweatpants without a drop of makeup on. You’ve been on dates with ex-lovers that looked at you like you were a piece of meat with a credit card. And yet, for some goddamn reason, walking down the aisle in a white dress the size of Pluto, with the rest of your life waiting for you at the other end, makes you feel fucking transparent.
Face resolute, you clutch onto your bouquet so tightly the flowers feel like they’re about to pop right out of your grasp. Determined not to look at anybody in the audience, you stare straight ahead, right into the eyes of your future husband.
Kim Taehyung, for someone you have seen multiple times drunk off his ass with hickies dotting his neck and jawline, cleans up pretty well. For someone getting married, at least. He dons a simple black tuxedo that still probably costs more than the average car, his caramel brown hair is pushed back off his forehead, and his expression is firm and still. He most certainly has had an equally expensive team prepping him, but they haven’t done too bad a job. The silver lining is that he doesn’t look any more thrilled than you are to be doing this, right here, right now. But to his credit, this is definitely the best he’s ever looked, as far as you’re concerned.
When you reach him, he offers his hand out to you, a hand that you only accept for the sake of professionalism. The bouquet in your hands is handed off to one of your bridesmaids, and the two of you take your position at the front. Your train drags along the aisle, draping over the few stairs you had to climb to reach the altar, this satin trail behind you that cements you to the floor. It may as well be a ball-and-chain. It’s about as heavy as one, anyway.
This is the longest you and Taehyung have ever held eye contact. Not that you’re really keeping track of how long the two of you have met each other’s gazes, but if you had to make an educated guess, this would definitely be the victor. Most of the time you end up sneering at each other ten seconds in, but to be fair, those other times you were also not getting married. To one another. In a ceremony attended by hundreds of people. And cameras.
There can be no sneering here.
“Don’t you look nice?” Taehyung whispers, loud enough so only the two of you can hear. He has that drawling, sickly sweet tone to his voice, the one that you hate because it makes him sound like he thinks he’s so much better than everyone else. “Surprised they were able to makeup that scowl off your face.”
This, of course, brings on a hearty scowl only he can see, your backs both facing the rows of attendees. “How much concealer are you wearing to cover up all of the hickies on your neck?” You quip back easily. It’s not like the two of you are going to pretend he doesn’t waltz around at every club or bar or private venue he can find, looking for his next treat.
“Wouldn’t you like to know?” Taehyung grins, and if you weren’t standing in front of hundreds of people about to get married, there’s no telling what next you would do.
The two of you would probably go on like that for another ten minutes if it’s not for the officiant, who coughs once he’s ready and opens the book in his hands. Next to you, Taehyung straightens, hands clasped together at his front, and lips pressed into a neat line. You do the same. There will be no giggles, no laughter nor smiles, nor any genuine emotion at this wedding. This is a wedding for the sake of politics, for economics, for security, and anyone in attendance would be a fool to think otherwise. Especially you.
“Ladies and gentlemen, family and friends, loved ones, and esteemed guests,” the officiant bellows, listing off as many groups of people as he possibly can in an effort to both include and compliment every person in the audience, “We are gathered here to celebrate the wedding, and future life, of Taehyung and Y/N…”
Taehyung turns to you, grinning in that god-awful way, the way he does when he feels like he’s got something over you. And sure, you can’t think of any punishment quite as bad as this, but what’s Taehyung got to smile about? He’s marrying himself off to a woman he hates, kissing goodbye his days as a free-spirited, heartbreaking bachelor, and promising what may very well be the rest of his life to loving you. That is not cause for celebration.
But perhaps, to him, your suffering is enough to bring a smile to his face.
Your vows are, to put it simply, total bullshit. Your family hired someone to write yours and there’s not a doubt in your mind that his family did the same thing. This nonsense talk, this complete and utter garbage that spews from your perfectly-glossed lips, shit about how you promise to love each other until the end of your days, how you promise to take care of each other when you’re sick and accompany each other at every event, every gala, every ball. Shit about how you promise to look only at each other, promise to uphold your family traditions and become a dependable spouse.
The words don’t belong to you. But the thing is that this marriage was never yours anyway.
When the kiss comes, there’s a part of you that thinks maybe you should have psyched yourself up a little more for this. When Taehyung pulls you in, placing a stiff hand on your lower back as he brings you towards his chest, your stomach turns and shivers run down your spine. The feeling of his hand on your body, the breath from his lips brushing against your own, are enough to keep you frozen in place.
He smiles at you, almost as if to ask, “Are you ready?”
And you squeeze your eyes shut, almost as if to respond, “Let’s do this.”
When his lips meet yours, there is almost nothing. Nothing runs through you, nothing explodes, nothing strikes. But when he pulls away and cheers and applause rings out throughout the room, there is something. A little heat, a remnant of a flame, left on your lips. A little sting, just to remind you it happened.
The entire hall is cheering but nothing about this is worth celebrating. The fact of the matter is that you and Taehyung will never love each other the way that you are supposed to.
“Ugh, finally.”
The elevator doors haven’t even properly opened by the time Taehyung is loosening his tie, tugging it off over his head as he stretches his head back and runs a hand through his perfectly-styled hair. As he rakes his fingers through his caramel locks, the hairspray and gel loosens, strands falling down by the side of his face, framing his temple.
“Don’t sound so relieved,” you huff out, deciding now is as good a time as any to start getting undressed yourself. Reaching down to lift up the hem of your reception dress, you tug off your heels, already feeling lighter on your feet. Who cares if Taehyung is watching you pull off your stilettos like a defeated movie heroine? You don’t think you can walk another step in those shoes. “We still have to live together, you know.”
“Don’t remind me,” Taehyung says gruffly, brushing by you roughly as he stomps out of the elevator. “I’m just glad the fucking night is over. I swear, seeing that fake-ass smile on your face made me want to gouge my eyes out.”
You storm after him, refusing to be the helpless damsel in this situation. “Oh, like you didn’t also have that exact same fake-ass smile on your face. It almost made me think you were actually enjoying yourself tonight.”
“I was only enjoying the fact that I know you hate this just as much as I do.” It’s perhaps the only thing you will ever be able to empathize with him on. Mutually relishing in the other’s destruction. Taehyung fumbles with the keypad to the door to the penthouse for a moment before you hear the lock click, the door sliding open as the entrance lights flicker on.
The reason Taehyung’s penthouse is so clean is because he’s never lived here before. Neither of you have—Taehyung’s parents bought it just for the two of you. And as much as you absolutely despise the idea of having to live with him, at least it was not you who paid for your place of residence.
You can tell Taehyung’s never lived here before because it’s actually quite nicely decorated inside. The ceilings are high and the sleek velvet curtains are pulled open, revealing a shimmering skyline. The furniture is modern and functional, and the whole damn place smells brand new. You’ve had the unfortunate pleasure of entering the place Taehyung lived in before now, and it looked nothing like this. The furniture was worn and stained despite the live-in maid, the house reeked of five hundred different spices that wafted from the kitchen to the living room, and the bookshelves were covered with comics, graphic novels, and old textbooks.
If it weren’t for the fact that you and Taehyung are rich kids in their twenties that hate each other, you might have actually thought the place looked… homey.
You don’t have time to be impressed by the interior design and architecture skills of whoever designed this place. Right now, all you can think about is tugging yourself out of your airtight reception dress and passing out on the nearest bed. Which, hopefully, will be as far away as possible from Taehyung’s bed of choice.
“How many bedrooms does this place have?” You ask, shimmying along the floor so you don’t trip over the hem of your dress. From the looks of it, you can see one giant hallway to your right and a massive, double-sided staircase leading up.
“Enough,” Taehyung grumbles in response. The hazy stupor from all of the fancy champagne is starting to wear off for the both of you, leaving behind two grouchy, begrudgingly-married individuals who want absolutely nothing to do with each other and have no problems making that known. Whatever golden light of the evening that was making Taehyung at least a little bit more attractive than usual has faded, and now you see him for what he really is: an unceremoniously tired man in a suit. “You want upstairs or down?”
You gaze up at the marble staircase in front of you, then back down at your too-long dress. “Down.” The last thing you want is to trip in front of the man you have to see, every day, for the rest of your life.
“Fine by me.” Taehyung’s halfway up the stairs by the time he turns back around to say something else. “I’ll see you tomorrow, I guess?”
“Yeah.” There’s no point in being hostile now. The both of you are too exhausted to mean anything by it. Besides, what else can you say? Everything to complain about has already been complained about. At least the two of you managed to wrestle out from your parents the stipulation that you would not be going on a honeymoon together. Now that would have been your worst nightmare. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
It’s as good of a goodnight either of you are going to get. Taehyung heads up the stairs and disappears around a corner, and you start wandering down the hallway. All the bedrooms look the exact same other than different colors on the walls and bedsheets, but they all look serviceable to you. Clean. Empty. Far away from wherever Taehyung is.
You pick the one at the very end of the hall just to be as much of a diva as possible, and don’t even bother drawing the curtains before tugging off your dress. It’s past one in the morning, and you’re so high up you don’t think anyone will be able to see you anyway. By the time you’ve stripped naked and are tugging up the too-tight sheets tucked into the mattress, your legs are about to give out beneath you. The bed could be made of rocks for all you care. Anything to lie down on is fine by you.
Sleep comes fairly easily to you tonight. Once your head hits the pillow you can already feel yourself drifting off, eyelids fluttering shut, but you don’t sleep quite yet. Not before you can think about how this is your life now, sleeping in a foreign bed in a foreign place with a foreign husband upstairs. This is what you will be living in now. Now and forever.
Living with Taehyung is, in both the best and worst ways possible, like living with a roommate that doesn’t give a shit about the fact that they live with another person. It’s good, because you and Taehyung hardly see each other and speak even less, which was pretty much the only thing you were asking for when it came to living with him. But it also sucks, because whenever you do happen to cross paths, Taehyung acts like you don’t exist, barely sparing you a hello or even that tight-lipped smile you send to drivers on the road when they let you cross the street.
Not that the two of you ever engaged in energetic conversation before you got married. But at least the two of you would acknowledge each other, even if only to shoot a glare and a scowl the other’s way from opposite sides of a hotel ballroom. Maybe it’s just because it’s him, but you did always find yourself actually relishing in those little interactions with Taehyung. In this strange, twisted way, it seemed to provide some sort of continuity to your ever-changing life. Like no matter what happened, at least you would know that the two of you would always despise each other.
To be frank, right now you’re not sure if Taehyung even remembers he got married at all.
Nights have been a lot more sleepless since your wedding day. After two weeks, the reality of it has finally started to settle in. This is your life now. And ever since you realized that, your bed has felt much less comfortable.
“But the place is nice, right?”
You look around the living room from where you’re sat on the sleek, white suede leather couch, eyes glossing over the bookshelves, the floor-to-ceiling windows, the draping velvet curtains. From here, you can see the entire city skyline, flecks of gold from the windows of skyscrapers against a navy blue background. Slowly, as the moon creeps over the sky and the clock gets later and later, those lights will soon begin to flicker off, one by one.
“Yeah, it’s not bad.” Nothing to write home about. That is, if home were a place other than here.
“That’s good. At least you don’t live in, like, a total dump or anything,” Victoria says on the other end of the line. “How’s Taehyung?”
His name alone elicits this deeply-exhausted sigh from your lips, like it’s been ten years since you married and every day has felt worse than the last. “Fine.” You can’t really complain about anything yet, considering that you hardly ever see the man.
“Just ‘fine’?” Victoria sounds skeptical.
“Yeah,” you draw out the word, as if trying to convince yourself of its truth. “I mean, it’s like he doesn’t even live here. I barely see him. And when I do, we don’t even speak to each other.”
“That’s good though, isn’t it? You hate him.” Victoria says it like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. And in a sense, it kind of is.
“I mean…”
“I know that your life hasn’t exactly… gone the way you had planned, but isn’t this your best case scenario when considering everything?” She asks. “If Taehyung is as distant as you say he is, isn’t it almost like you never married him in the first place?”
As if on cue, you hear footsteps coming down the stairs, heels clicking on the marble as they make their way to the entrance. You whip your head around to find Taehyung, all dressed up in loose, flowy slacks and a flowery silk button-down, strolling down the staircase as he scrolls through his phone, paying you zero attention whatsoever.
He notices you briefly when he reaches the bottom, meeting your eyes with his own. He offers this measly, unenthused half-smile your way before he grabs his wallet and some house keys from the table by the entrance, opens the door, and vanishes off into the night.
If you hadn’t been in the living room, you probably wouldn’t have even realized he left. Not that you being present as he’s planning on leaving would have stopped him anyway. This is the sixth night he’s done this in the past two weeks. You could stand by the door and stare him down as he emerges from his bedroom, all dressed up for something you’re definitely not invited to, and he would offer you that same goddamn smile and walk out the door without even blinking. Who he was before you got married and who he is now are no different. Not even a ring could change that.
“I guess,” you tell Victoria. At least Taehyung hasn’t turned into a helicopter husband. “I don’t know. Maybe I just wish that I didn’t have to deal with him at all.”
Wish you could turn back time. Wish you could worm your way out of an arranged marriage before it was too late. Wish you could go back to the way things used to be.
You and Victoria talk for another couple of minutes before she regretfully has to end the call, citing both her beauty sleep and an 8AM meeting tomorrow morning as her reasons for hanging up. The moment you put the phone down, you sink back into the couch cushions, staring out the windows at the world below you.
Here’s the deal. What Taehyung does in his free time is none of your business. But also, it’s totally your business, because you are his spouse. A spouse who is an equal amount in the public eye as he is. What he does and does not do has a direct impact on what you do and do not do.
It’s no secret that when you catch Taehyung sauntering down the stairs looking like a Gucci runway model, it’s not because he’s planning on catching a movie with a college friend and then playing video games for four hours on a couch in a basement. He is going out. To clubs, to parties, to exclusive events that he’s been invited to by his equally-rich friends, all of whom are acting like he’s the same bachelor he’s always been.
And maybe that’s the real problem with your whole marriage—other than the glaringly obvious issue that it’s a marriage wholly unwanted by the two parties involved in it. Despite the ring on his finger, Taehyung is going out and pretending that nothing in his life has changed while you’re trapped at home, desperate to save you and your family’s reputation by keeping as low a profile as possible. You would give anything to march around the city all day, flashing middle fingers at paparazzi as you shop at your favorite high-end stores and frequent your favorite clubs. But you can’t, because your family’s fortune and influence is on the line.
And apparently, Taehyung’s isn’t.
It sort of makes you wonder why it was even Taehyung you ended up marrying anyway. His family isn’t any richer or more powerful than yours. Your spheres have always been sufficiently separate. What was it about him, and perhaps more importantly, his family that drew your parent’s eye? And what was it about marrying you that prevented him from saying no? Money? Prestige? Influence?
You suppose you’ll never know. But whatever mystical force that convinced Taehyung to agree to this must not be as important to him as your reasoning is to you, because it’s become exceedingly apparent that Taehyung does not care that he’s married. He doesn’t care about the ring on his finger, he doesn’t care about his public image, and he most certainly doesn’t care about you.
Perhaps you were naive for thinking this, but you actually believed marriage might tone him down a little. Might age him into a real adult with real world obligations. Instead, it’s only given you a firsthand look into who Kim Taehyung has been and always will be: a selfish rich kid.
You don’t bother waiting around in the living room until he gets back, but you are still awake by the time you hear the door creak open. Taehyung makes no efforts to hide his return. You can hear him chattering loudly on the phone as he stumbles up the stairs, can tell from his gait alone that he is most certainly wasted. You don’t want to know what he did tonight. You’ll probably be able to figure it out anyway when you wake up tomorrow morning and check your social media.
What were you thinking, marrying him? That he would change? That he would suddenly become someone that you could rely on? You had no choice when you said, “I do,” but you were at least hoping that maybe one day, one day in a long, long time, the two of you would finally see eye to eye. Maybe there would even come a time when you would genuinely love him. How foolish.
You close your eyes and try to imagine a world where you have married someone you love, someone who loves you back.
Not unlike the many nights preceding it, tonight is sleepless.
Unlike your marital status and general disposition, one thing that hasn’t changed about you is your love for extravagant events. Call you conceited, but there is something so much fun about putting on a fancy, expensive dress that you love and getting your hair and makeup done before going to an exclusive gala and posing in front of five hundred cameras.
Actually, now that you think about it, maybe your wedding could have actually been pretty good, considering it let you do all those things. It’s a real shame there happened to be a storm cloud in the form of Kim Taehyung there to ruin it. Otherwise, you think you would have rather enjoyed that day.
Tonight is the first event since your marriage where you and Taehyung are both required to show up and act like a happy married couple. Which would probably be a lot easier if you and Taehyung had exchanged more than ten words over the past two weeks. Maybe it was wishful thinking, but there was a part of you that thought you could use your arranged marriage to actually cultivate some sort of meaningful relationship between the two of you. So events like these wouldn’t be such a drain on both of you.
When Kim Taehyung comes down the stairs, he actually doesn’t look too bad. You don’t know why this sort of thing keeps catching you off guard—like you don’t expect him to look that good whenever you see him. The problem is that you can’t even chalk up the surprise to him wearing tailored clothes or having his hair done. He just looks… good.
Well, you suppose you do have to look at him every day for the rest of your life. It’s a good thing he’s attractive. At least he’s not sore on the eyes.
Taehyung and his unfortunate attractiveness aside, the two of you don’t say a word to each other as you join up at the entrance, grabbing any last-minute items like house keys, chapstick, and whatever dignity you have left to spare. You send forced smiles and tight nods each other’s way in the elevator, staring straight ahead in the lobby of your building as the car pulls up to the front door.
By the time the two of you sit down in the back of the limousine, the built-up tension between the two of you is so thick you’re almost positive that even the chauffeur can feel it through the closed partition.
If you were any more idyllic, you’d probably spend the drive over to the gala staring out the window and imagining yourself in a different life, on a train to nowhere, flowers in your hair and a journal in your hands. Or perhaps you’d be the CEO of your family’s company instead of having that responsibility passed down to a husband you don’t even want, sitting in an office at the top of a skyscraper overlooking the city. Anything. Anything but this.
But the idyllic part of you died when you realized that fantasies like that are nothing but distractions and that daydreams are for romantics and optimists and losers.
“What’s our plan for tonight?”
Taehyung scoffs. “What do you mean, ‘what’s our plan’?”
You frown. “Well, we’re married, so we at least have to act like it, don’t you think?”
“Isn’t standing there and smiling enough?” Taehyung asks, an unimpressed eyebrow raised.
You bristle. Maybe that sufficed for your wedding, but there was so much going on it was easy to distract yourself from the gravity of it all. But this event is not about you. It’s not even about either of your families. It’s about someone the two of you are, at best, distantly connected to, through work, through fame, through power. Which means that though the focus will not be on you, there will still be eyes looking your way. Eyes watching your every move.
“Do you think it will be?” You challenge. Doesn’t Taehyung realize that things are different now?
Taehyung’s lips curl downwards. “What do you expect us to do, shower each other in kisses? We don’t even sleep on the same fucking floor.”
“Maybe I just expected you to act less like a stranger and more like a husband!”
Taehyung sighs. “Don’t.” The word is clipped, short. “Don’t tell me you actually want to be married.”
“I don’t.” It’s a response that you hardly have to think twice about. “But we are, and nothing can change that.” Unfortunately. But it’s a fact that you and Taehyung have both had to grapple with over the past few weeks, and it’s becoming increasingly obvious that you are more aware of it than he is. If Taehyung could have his way, he would ignore you for the rest of his life and keep partying with the rest of his bachelor friends until he keeled over and died.
He huffs next to you, eyes staring straight ahead. You don’t think the two of you have met each other’s eyes in a week. Maybe more. They’re starting to feel as soulless as your marriage itself. “Whatever. What do you want me to do?”
“What do you think?” You cross your arms over your chest. “Just act like you don’t hate me. Can you do that?” The way Taehyung’s behaving right now, you expect that will be a challenge for the both of you.
“Only if you can. I’ll even hold your hand to prove that we love each other.”
“Fine.”
“Fine.”
The idea of holding Taehyung’s hand makes you want to implode. The mere thought sends shivers down your spine. But it’s better than nothing, and that’s good enough for you. At least you won’t have to kiss.
The rest of the ride there is silent. You drive to this gorgeous mansion just outside the city, bathed in lights hidden amongst the bushes, illuminating both the architecture and the enormous fountain that sits in front of it. In a house this size, you imagine you could probably go your whole life without ever having to come across Taehyung. It actually makes you consider investing in a home that big.
Taehyung helps you out of the back of the limousine, a cold hand clasping your own as you rest your palm against his. You can feel the way his fingers hesitate as yours make to intertwine with his as you walk towards the entrance, smiling at whatever camera flashes you encounter on your way. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think you were holding hands with a ghost.
The moment you step inside and are ushered out of the door’s view, Taehyung’s grip relaxes on yours. For a moment, you think he’ll actually spend the rest of the night like this, a gentle hand wrapped around yours, but then he pulls it away entirely and shoves it back into his pocket. Oh. You frown quietly to yourself. So that’s how tonight’s going to go.
You don’t make an effort to reach out towards him again.
For an event concerning people you don’t know a damn thing about, everyone sure seems to know things about you. Other than greetings, you don’t think anyone’s said anything to you about anything other than your recent marriage to Taehyung. Every conversation is punctuated by a Congratulations! you do not feel that you have at all earned, considering you and Taehyung could barely look at each other on the way here.
Maybe Taehyung was right. All you really can do is stand there and smile.
“Oh, don’t tell me… Y/N, is that you?”
The champagne swirls around in the flute between your fingers as you turn towards the sound of your name, looking up to see a familiar face headed your way.
Kim Seokjin is nice enough. He’s terribly handsome and got a flawless smile, but you know better than to trust those pearly whites of his. The sight of him alone is enough to make your body tense up. There was a reason you had explicitly told your parents not to invite him to your wedding.
“Seokjin, what a surprise to see you here,” you say, forcing a smile. “I thought you were supposed to be in Switzerland right now.”
“Change of plans,” Seokjin grins back in that awful, awful way, the kind of grin that makes you feel like he’s looking right through you. “I came back early. It’s a shame, though, I missed your wedding.”
You shrug. “It was a humble affair.” It wasn’t. And you’re positive that Seokjin knows it wasn’t an accident that you didn’t extend an invitation to him or his family.
“Ah, I see,” Seokjin says, nodding his head. He turns to Taehyung next to you, who is making no effort to hide how wholly uninterested in this conversation he is, and holds out a hand. “You must be Kim Taehyung, then. I’m Kim Seokjin. Congratulations on your wedding.”
Taehyung shakes his hand firmly, the air between the three of you growing unbearably palpable.
“Seokjin’s father is the VP of News Daily,” You explain, eyebrows raised as you try to signal to Taehyung what exactly it means when Seokjin is speaking to the two of you. “And his mother is a popular journalist for the city’s post.”
Seokjin grew up in the world of media, and it seems he’s picked up his parent’s affinity for sticking their noses in places they don’t belong. You know he’s not talking to the both of you out of the goodness of his heart.
Seokjin laughs, his hand waving away the mention of his parents. “Oh, please. That’s them. I’m just a bored socialite like the rest of you.”
You resist the urge to scoff.
“Marriage treating the two of you well?” He changes the subject to what he really wants to talk about: you.
“Of course,” you say quickly, preventing any hesitation on your end. Your empty hand reaches towards Taehyung’s, fingers searching for his between the two of you. But his refusal to join hands does not go unnoticed by you nor Seokjin, who is eyeing the space between your bodies with an eyebrow raised. “It’s just been—well, it’s just been difficult to adjust to a new life. That’s all.”
If you were to describe the face of a non-believer, it would be the exact expression on Seokjin’s face. “Perfectly understandable,” he says, that same toothy smile lacing his features. “But it must be nice, you know, to marry someone you love.”
“I couldn’t be happier,” you say, almost challenging Seokjin to say something even more inflammatory. He must know that all you’re trying to do at this point is save face. Love? Ha! As if.
“And Taehyung?” Seokjin motions to your husband.
You can feel the way Taehyung is stiffening beside you. “I suppose we are both lucky and unlucky in many ways when it comes to who we love.”
It’s enough of an answer to get Seokjin off your tail. For now. He bids the two of you a tense goodbye before sauntering off to go poke his nose in someone else’s business, fish for drama, a thread of a rumor he can pick apart with nimble fingers. You wonder if anybody actually likes him.
The moment he disappears from earshot, you grab Taehyung’s wrist tightly and pull him close to you. “What the hell was that?” You hiss into his ear.
“What?” You can’t tell if he’s playing dumb or if he really is that dense.
“You!” You exclaim. “Kim Seokjin is the one person who could easily expose how fake this marriage is and you pull away from me? Right in front of him? You can’t even hold my hand for two seconds, that’s how much you hate me?”
“Who cares what he thinks?” Taehyung says. “He’s just another media rat. No one will even remember we were here tomorrow.”
“But if you keep acting like this, people will start to notice! Why can’t you just act like you don’t hate me, for one night? Is that so bad? Is it that torturous, to spend one night with me?”
“Do not turn this on me,” Taehyung orders harshly. “You’re making a scene. Come on.”
You don’t have time to shout at him for bossing you around like you’re a toddler throwing a tantrum before he drags you out of the venue, the two of you finding a back door to the building that leads outside. The cold air blows against your body, goosebumps popping up against your skin, but you find that the chilly night provides quite the respite after practically overheating indoors. Taehyung makes fire rush through your veins but at least the air can cool you back down.
Nevertheless, your conversation is not over. It’s just been moved to a more private location.
“You do realize that our marriage isn’t going to suddenly go away, right? That we’re going to have to keep doing this for the rest of our lives?” You remind him, eyebrows raised. There’s a part of you that genuinely thinks he’s completely forgotten that your marriage is permanent.
“Oh, and not holding hands for five minutes for this one event is totally going to change the course of our lives, isn’t it?” Taehyung fights back.
“Don’t act like you did the right thing,” you spit out. “You don’t have to pretend in front of me. I know you don’t give a shit about our marriage.”
“What marriage is there to even give a shit about? Just because we had a wedding and signed some documents does not mean there is a real marriage between us. Look at us,” he motions between the two of you like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “We hate each other. Is this what you would call marriage?”
“But at least I’m trying to get past that!” You exclaim. “You make it seem like being as miserable as possible is some sort of badge of honor. Do you actually want to spend the rest of your life hating the person you married? Or do you want to grow up and try and move on?”
Taehyung frowns. “What I want is for the person I married to stop acting like they’re doing me such a huge favor by pretending to care about us. Especially when all they really care about is their family’s goddamn reputation.”
“No,” you tell him sternly. You are doing him a favor. He just can’t admit that he actually needs help from you. “You are putting zero effort into this. What am I supposed to do?”
“Let it go!” Taehyung shouts. “Maybe one day we’ll actually start getting along, but right now it’s obvious that neither one of us can stand the other. I don’t need you to do favors for me. I can handle it myself.”
You look away, rolling your eyes. “Doesn’t look like it to me,” you mutter to yourself.
Taehyung cracks. “Fine. You want me to pretend that I actually care about us? I will.” Thank God. Maybe now the two of you will finally start seeing eye-to-eye. “But make no mistake about how I feel about you,” he spits. “Getting married to you ruined my life.”
You stare straight at him and his eyes are swirling, so obscured in the darkness of the night that you might even think he doesn’t have a soul at all. His pupils bore into yours and for once, for once in your goddamn life, after so many years of staring each other down at debutante balls, so many years of witty refrains and snarky insults hurled each other’s way, it feels like the two of you might actually snap.
Then, a camera flashes.
Trouble in Paradise! would be a suitable title for the front page of the city’s biggest tabloid… if anything about your life with Taehyung could be considered paradise. Unfortunately for the both of you, that is not the case.
You don’t need to keep reading the rest of the trashy article on the front page of the daily tabloid to know how much trouble you’re in, nor do you even have time to scroll beneath the terrible photo of you and Taehyung literally shouting at each other before you hear your phone ring.
You don’t even bother saying hello to whoever’s on the other end. You know it’ll go in one ear and out the other.
“I assume you know why I’m calling,” your mother’s harsh tone spits from the other end of the phone. There’s no doubt in your mind that she’s standing in the middle of her office, snapping her fingers at her fifteen secretaries as they partake in the worst damage control your family’s had to deal with since your cousin two years ago was caught with a mistress outside a high-profile restaurant.
“Can I take a wild guess?” You’re about to be scolded into the next century, so you might as well enjoy your last few moments.
“Don’t get cheeky with me,” your mother warns. “Care to explain why you and your beloved husband made the front page of the Daily Post today?”
“I know,” you sigh, a hand coming up to rub at your temples. It’s eight in the morning, you’ve barely looked at your phone, and you haven’t even brushed your teeth yet. It feels like you’re still asleep, and most certainly lack the energy to deal with this right now.
Your mother, on the other hand, thinks otherwise. “You know? You know, and you still go out and do this? For everyone to see?”
“We tried to take our argument outside,” you begin to explain, but your mother isn’t having a single word of it.
“The fact that you thought it was even appropriate to have an argument in a public setting at all astounds me, Y/N. We raised you better than that.” There’s no need for you to even see her face. You’ve grown so used to that disappointed frown over the years that it’s burned into your brain.
“Maybe you should have thought about that before marrying me off to a man I barely know so I could be someone else’s problem instead of yours,” you bite.
“We did this for your own good,” she hisses back. “You are married because we love you, and we want you to succeed outside of this family.”
“Then why do you care what the tabloids print about me?”
“Because being married does not mean you are no longer a part of this family,” your mother informs you sternly, lips smacking together. “Your marriage reflects on all of us, and you know that. What will people think of us when they see how terribly behaved you are?”
“Everyone acts like that, and you know it.” How could your mother preach good behavior when everyone, everyone you know, is just as spoiled and entitled as you? There’s no such thing as being altruistic when it comes to people like you. Being genuine, and good, and pure—that will get you ruined.
You can hear her breathing into the phone when your mother responds, “But not in public, and that is the point. We expect better from you.”
“If you were so worried about me behaving so badly, then why did you even marry me off anyway? You knew that I didn’t want to. What did you think would happen?” It’s a question you wouldn’t have dared ask three months ago. Hell, even a year ago, when it was first revealed you were to be engaged, you wouldn’t have dared open your lips. But things are different now. You’re married to a man that hates you just as much as you hate him. He is making no effort to improve your relationship and seems hellbent on despising you forever. There is no way to get out of it. And if your parents really foresaw all of that, then what was the point in the first place?
“Your grandmother.”
Your mouth shuts.
“You know she wanted to see you married before she passed,” your mother says, words clipped and biting and harsh. “She cares about you. She wanted to make sure you’d be taken care of.”
“I don’t need anyone to take care of me,” you mutter to yourself like a petulant child. In a way, you sort of are.
“If you want to stay in her will, I suggest you change that mindset.”
You freeze in your tracks. The will?
“Is that a threat?” You ask, positively dumbfounded. Are you being coerced into staying in this marriage because of your grandmother’s will?
You can hear your mother laugh, that muted, knowing chuckle of hers. “It was the deal all along, remember?”
Vaguely, you do. You remember fighting your parents tooth and nail over getting married until your grandmother revealed it was her dream to see you wed. You remember the look on her old, wrinkled face, that soft, sad smile that said she knew she didn’t have much time left. You remember agreeing, because how could you deny her? You remember her promising to remember what you’re doing for her.
“You’re kidding.”
“I’m not.”
“But—”
“That’s the end of this conversation, Y/N. You fix things with your husband or you’re out of her will. She’s made that clear. I expect you’ll make the right choice.”
She hangs up.
Well.
There are a lot of ways to describe how you’re currently feeling, and you most certainly had an expensive education that would provide you with plenty of the vocabulary, but you think the most appropriate words for the current situation would be: you’re fucked.
At least the feeling is mutual.
Hardly two minutes after your mother’s brutal phone call, Taehyung comes storming down the stairs, hair still mussed from the night prior, his own phone clenched tightly between is fingers. Even from where you stand in the middle of the living room, you can see the way his eyes are glinting with anger, the veins popping out from his skin.
“I just got off the phone with my parents,” Taehyung begins, not even bothering to spare a ‘good morning’ your way, “and they are fucking furious about last night.”
You shrug. “Join the club,” you mutter, arms crossed in front of you. What, does Taehyung really think you got off scot-free?
“Don’t act like this means nothing to you,” Taehyung says as he approaches you, footsteps calm despite his demeanor being anything but. “You’re the one who’s so obsessed with keeping up their family’s perfect reputation. You’re the reason we’re even in this mess in the first place.”
“What do you mean, ‘I’m the reason’?” You ask, astounded. Like he’s totally absolved of all blame and just an innocent third party. “You are the reason we went outside. You are the reason we had that argument, because you refuse to accept the fact that we’re actually married and there’s nothing we can do about it.”
“Right, because holding hands is really gonna show all those people how in love we are. I bet your parents are so thrilled right now.” Taehyung drawls.
“It’s a start!” You shriek. “God, you’re just so—so infuriating! You can’t accept that this was your fault, too. You just have to turn everything against me and you always, always have to get the last word. It’s like you think you’ll die if you don’t.”
“Like you’re any better,” Taehyung huffs back. “You think I’m the villain because I don’t want to pretend to be in love with someone I’m not in love with. You act like us not holding hands is going to ruin our lives. It was one event! One! It’s obvious we hate each other, so why even try?”
“What, do you expect me to just sit around and do nothing? To act like everything’s fine? Like I’m happy?” As if. This marriage is the worst thing that’s ever happened to you. “While you prance around the city with your rich boy friends, going out to clubs and parties and pretending that I don’t exist? Is that what you expect from me?”
Taehyung laughs, this loud, disbelieving sort of noise, like he’s never heard such nonsense before. “Just because we’re married doesn’t mean the rest of my life has to change. Am I not allowed to enjoy myself with my friends? Or are you determined to keep me chained to your side for the rest of our lives?”
“What I want,” you punctuate every word, “is for you to stop acting like you haven’t got stakes in this, too. You think I don’t know how your family works? What being married to me means for you? Because I do. And I know that if we were to divorce, it would be you who would get the short end of the stick. Make no mistake.”
That’s enough to shut Taehyung up for a good few seconds. And it shuts him up, because he knows it’s true. Taehyung’s family may have a little more money, a little more power than yours, but you’ve got a family intimately more connected with the media. One phone call and Taehyung may have a rather messy, rather public breakup to deal with.
“You wouldn’t,” he says, calling your bluff.
“Are you sure about that?” You say, sticking your ground. You would never really divorce him, of course, but he doesn’t need to know that.
“I am,” Taehyung says firmly. “Don’t think I don’t know what being married to me is in it for you. What is it? Money? Power? Your father’s CEO position?”
“That’s none of your business,” you snap quickly. Maybe you’re more transparent than you thought. Bristling, you straighten your shoulders and turn back to meet his eyes. “Regardless, it seems we both have a reason to stay in this marriage.”
“It seems we do,” Taehyung agrees with a thin, contained smile. “Then I suppose we can reach some sort of agreement.”
“As in…?” Your interest in piqued.
“I’ll stop going out with my friends if you stop picking fights with me all the time,” he says economically, like he’s killing two birds with one stone.
“Only if you agree to also act more like my husband when we’re in public,” you tack on, because you just can’t settle for anything less.
“Public only,” Taehyung specifies.
You scoff. “Like I’d even want to pretend to be your wife when we’re in private.”
“Good. It seems we’ve come to a deal.”
“What’s in this for you, huh?” You prod, just to be annoying. Taehyung’s right. There’s a reason you’re not divorcing him the second you get the chance. But there must be a reason why he’s not doing the same thing.
“Does it matter?” He challenges, a single eyebrow raised. “My life is just as awful as yours.”
Fair enough.
“Do we have a deal?” Taehyung asks, holding out his hand, that sneaky, devilish grin lacing his features.
Taking his hand in yours and grasping it firmly is the easiest decision in the world. His palm presses against your own, hot hand meeting your cold skin, and it feels like the two of you are finally finding some sort of balance. You look up into his eyes, burn your gaze into his pupils, watch them glint in the white ceiling light of the living room.
“Deal.”
For two people raised on the values of reading the fine print and making educated choices when it comes to business deals, you and Taehyung sure haven’t worked out any of the intricacies of the deal the two of you agreed to. Unlike those business deals your parents constantly agreed to, however, knowing all of the stipulations and provisions of your strange, strange agreement with Taehyung may prove more harmful than helpful.
Like right now.
“Wait, we don’t have to be by each other’s side the whole night, do we?” Taehyung asks you, eyebrows furrowed in a knot, as you sit in the back of a big, black van on your way to a mutual friend’s twenty-first birthday bash.
“There are going to be a lot of cameras there,” you respond.
“Yeah, outside the entrance to the damn club. You know they won’t be allowed in, so who cares?” Taehyung rebukes.
You huff out a little sigh, not wanting to get into an argument when you’re literally minutes away from your first public appearance since the whole tabloid debacle from three weeks ago. You and Taehyung could both do with being a bit more relaxed than you normally are when you’re around each other.
“Hasn’t Clarissa invited hundreds of people? They’ll all notice if we aren’t together,” you remind pointedly. The girl whose birthday party you are attending is an heiress who grew up on the money of two people with a monopoly over the current artificial intelligence market and has millions of followers on social media. There will be notable people there. And people will know the two of you, as well.
Taehyung rolls his eyes. “That’s the point, Y/N. There’ll be so many people, no one will even care. It’s her twenty-first birthday. Do you think people are going to be sober?”
You purse your lips together. He’s got a point. “How about when we are together, we hold hands. But if you see a friend or something then feel free to say hi.” Taehyung can be afforded that luxury. Especially because the chances of him not bumping into someone he knows is exceedingly low anyway.
Taehyung nods in agreement. “You too. But I won’t leave you unless I know you’re with someone you’re close with.”
“You don’t have to stay, I’ll be fine,” you say with a small chuckle. What, is Taehyung suddenly worried, or something?
“Yeah, but it would be in bad taste if I left you with someone you didn’t know well. Or alone. Just wanna make sure you’re taken care of.” He shrugs nonchalantly, turning back to look out of the window on his side of the car.
“Okay.”
You don’t really have anything else to say to that. You’re sure you can handle yourself if you’re left alone for a few minutes while Taehyung says hi, but you actually find yourself rather appreciative of his resolve to look after you. Or, at least, make sure someone else is looking after you. It’s quite… chivalrous. Strikingly out of character for the Taehyung you’ve become well-acquainted with over the past couple of months.
By the time you arrive, it’s obvious that Taehyung was right about there being so many people you two practically don’t even exist. Other than the herds of camera crews waiting outside the joint, photographing everyone that steps out of a black car to see what they’re wearing and who they’ve come with, no one seems to be paying you any attention. And in a way, that sort of nonexistence, that anonymity, it’s refreshing. Your entire life you’ve felt like all eyes were on you, like there was constantly a spotlight above your head, but here, the party centers around someone else.
Despite that fact, Taehyung keeps his promise. He keeps himself pressed closely against you when there’s not enough space for you two to stand side by side, and he makes sure to have a hand gently intertwined with your own as you weave your way through the dozens of bodies in the room. He doesn’t say anything, of course, always looking up and forward instead of beside him, where you stand, but you find that you’re actually quite relaxed with his presence. He spots a bit of a clearing near the back of the first floor of the club, where a whole bunch of leather couches are pressed up against the brick walls, where the two of you can take a breather.
“Damn, Clarissa knows a lot of people,” you say when you finally settle down, happily plucking a martini from a tray held by one of the many caterers wandering through the venue.
“I doubt she’s even spoken to half of them,” Taehyung comments. “She and I have maybe spoken once… three years ago.”
“It was enough to get you invited, wasn’t it?” You point out with an eyebrow raised.
Taehyung nods, chuckling a little. “Touché,” he says, clinking his own cocktail glass against yours.
You take a swig of the drink, letting it wash down your throat. You’re not exactly sure how else you’re supposed to survive the night. “You must enjoy this, huh?” You muse, looking up at Taehyung from where you’re seated on the couch. He’s standing next to you, looking around the room with a distant gaze in his eye.
“Enjoy what? The drink? It’s nice,” Taehyung says, having another sip.
“No, I mean this,” you say, motioning toward the crowd. “The clubbing, the dancing, the drinking. I’ll bet that if you could do this every day for the rest of your life, you would.”
“I’m honored that you think so highly of me,” he deadpans.
“Just making an observation,” you say, holding your hand up in surrender. “I mean, isn’t this what you used to do every weekend before we got married? Get wasted and party? Wake up in someone else’s bed the next morning? Muscle your way through the week just so you could do it all over again?”
Taehyung shakes his head, a knowing grin on his face. “Looks like someone keeps up with her tabloids. Let me guess, you would scroll through all of those trashy articles on your phone whenever you woke up so you could see what your future husband was doing?”
“I could have never even met you and I would know that that’s exactly what you do,” you say, even though you definitely did do those things before your engagement was announced to the public. “You’re a heartbreaker, Kim Taehyung. I don’t need to read a tabloid to know that.”
“Well, you must be quite the lucky girl, then,” Taehyung comments. “You seem to be taking up so much of my energy that I don’t have the time for that anymore.”
You place a sarcastic hand on your heart. “I didn’t know you were always thinking about me. I’m touched.”
“Don’t get used to it,” Taehyung huffs out, making the two of you both shake your heads as you chuckle to yourselves. First civil conversation you’ve had with each other in a long while, even if there may have been a few blows exchanged.
The privacy doesn’t last long. Soon after, a huge crowd of people that could honestly still pass for teenagers herds towards the back of the club, all of them wanting to take pictures with each other. You and Taehyung do your best to stay out of the way, but one of the girls recognizes him from the Elle photoshoot he did about a year ago and begins to strike up a conversation with the both of you about your recent marriage. If she was paying attention to anything the tabloids leaked three weeks ago, she doesn’t mention it. Taehyung smiles and happily answers all of her questions, and even offers to take a picture of the group for them. The conversation ends before the two of you even catch her name.
You’re standing by the line of buffet tables laid out against the staircase leading up to the second floor, no doubt as crowded as this one, when the opportunity for you to speak to someone other than Taehyung finally presents itself.
“Y/N!”
You’d recognize that voice anywhere. You turn around to see Victoria barreling towards the both of you, not even caring when she accidentally spills a bit of her piña colada on the floor as she does.
“Hey!” You exclaim excitedly. “I didn’t know you’d be here.”
“Are you kidding? I’m pretty sure Clarissa invited everyone on her, her best friend’s, her best friend’s cousin, and her best friend’s cousin’s dog’s contact list,” Victoria says with a laugh. “It’s nice to see you. I feel like you’ve been holed up in that big ol’ penthouse for weeks.”
“Damage control,” you remind her succinctly. Victoria knows enough that that’s all the explanation she really needs.
“I don’t know if the two of you have ever met formally,” you say, thinking back to your wedding, where Victoria spent most of her time schmoozing with your parents (who love her) and didn’t even engage with any of the people who Taehyung’s family had invited. “Taehyung, this is Victoria. Victoria, Taehyung.”
“Pleasure,” Victoria says in that loud, unabashedly forward way of hers, holding out a friendly hand. Taehyung smiles back curtly, taking her hand and shaking it gently, so as not to spill any more of her drink.
“Mine as well. I remember you were at our wedding.” Oh? So he does know her?
“That I was. Oh, I miss that day. The food was excellent. Tonight’s isn’t too bad either. Hope you’re doing well, the two of you. It’s nice to see you getting along,” she says, always the observer.
Taehyung’s eyes widen a little when he picks up what Victoria is not-so-subtly putting down, but you place a hand on his upper arm to calm him. “It’s okay,” you tell him. “She won’t say anything.”
“My lips are sealed,” Victoria adds.
“If you wanna go spend time with some of your friends, you can,” you say, giving Taehyung a nudge. He looks positively helpless standing in between the two of you as Victoria out-extroverts him.
“Alright,” he says hesitantly, even though you know he’s already spotted at least ten people you’re sure he’d want to spend time with over you. “I’ll come find you soon, okay? Don’t go too far.”
You nod, and Taehyung disappears off into the crowd. Not two seconds later, you hear someone else call his name in a familiar tone.
“I thought you said you hated him,” Victoria points out as the two of you watch his caramel brown hair makes its way throughout the crowd.
You take another sip of your drink. “I do,” you say.
Victoria looks at you like you’ve just told her you’ve sworn off custard-filled doughnuts.
“What?” You ask, feeling suddenly defensive.
“Nothing,” Victoria singsongs. “It just doesn’t look like that to me.”
“We just need to keep up a good appearance in public, that’s all. You know how mad my parents got when the tabloids leaked all that shit a few weeks ago,” you explain. You’re not sure what all the fuss is about. Taehyung said he would do these things. And he did. That was him upholding his end of the deal. This is you upholding yours.
“If you say so…” Victoria says, not looking at all convinced. “I guess I’m just surprised that—that you two seem to be getting along so well. Maybe you being married isn’t going to be the worst thing after all.”
You stare back out into the crowd, scanning the top of people’s heads for Taehyung’s familiar locks. In the dim light of the club, you have a difficult time finding his, squinting your eyes slightly as you look around, but eventually you spot him, dancing happily with some old friends of his you recognize. He looks like he’s having a good time. And that makes you feel like maybe, just maybe, this might end up alright.
“Yeah,” you say, though with the pounding of the bass and the alcohol already rushing through your veins, it doesn’t really feel like your voice belongs to you. You look back at Taehyung, knowing exactly where he is now, and you smile. Just a little. “I guess he’s not so bad.”
You never do get a chance to meet Taehyung’s friends that night. By the time he joins back up with you and Victoria he’s by himself, a little more drunk than when he left, and ready to go home. And for once, instead of fighting him, instead of insisting you stay an hour more just to make sure you’ve done all of your rounds, you let him take you home.
Taehyung has been spending a lot more time at the penthouse lately. Perhaps his family’s business happenings are slow, or perhaps he’s actually starting to get more comfortable with inhabiting the same space as you, but he has definitely found himself quite the rhythm in that house of yours. He even comes down to the first floor rather regularly.
When he’s home, Taehyung is a lot quieter than you thought he would be. Granted, you don’t exactly know what you were expecting in the first place, but it certainly wasn’t him ruminating in one of the home offices while the Beatles play softly on the stereo, nor was it him reading a book in French in one of those big old grandfather chairs in the living room. If you didn’t know any better, you’d probably think he was still absent in that old way of his, ghostlike and silent, like he was occupying the space instead of truly living in it.
But you do know better, and even though Taehyung is just as noiseless as he used to be, the house already feels a little bit fuller.
Perhaps the reason you’ve become so keenly aware of his presence over the past few days is because of the notable fact that Taehyung has indeed held up his end of the deal, and no longer goes out with his friends in the evening. Or at all, for that matter. Which strikes you as rather odd, because he’s the epitome of a social butterfly, a thousand contacts in his phone and a whole group of friends he regularly spends time with. Maybe his parents told him to tone down the public appearances, too. And that’s understandable, but don’t they know Taehyung? Can’t they see how much he thrives on social interaction? It almost makes you feel… bad for him.
To remedy this, you suggest he invite over his friends. Just for a few hours, you swear you won’t mind.
“Seriously?” Taehyung looks positively shocked when you tell him he can, standing in the doorway of the office he seems to have designated as his own.
“Yeah, why not?” You say with a carefree shrug. Besides, you’ve never met his friends anyway, and now seems as good a chance as any to introduce yourself. You are his wife, after all. “Unless your parents say you can’t. But it’s not a problem for me.”
“You… don’t mind if I have my friends over for a bit? Honest to God, we’re probably just going to play FIFA for three hours straight,” Taehyung says like it’s some sort of warning. Like the idea of him and his buddies from college are going to sit in the living room screaming at the television, leaving you alone to do literally anything else, is somehow bad.
You laugh. “It’s fine, really. Call them. I’d actually quite like to meet them.”
Taehyung picks up his phone almost instantly, as if you’ll change your mind in the next five minutes so he better get them over soon, and already you can see the way his face is lighting up, the way his eyes crinkle as he chats to his friends and the way his lips curl upwards when they crack a joke back. Isn’t it obvious? He feeds off of the energy of others. Who are you to deny him such a simple pleasure?
As it turns out, Taehyung’s friends actually end up being quite nice anyway.
He invites over three, because four people is apparently the perfect number for a hardcore game of FIFA on his Playstation, and they are all very handsome men you have never met before. You suppose like attracts like, after all.
“You must be Y/N,” says the first one you see when you open the door to let them in. He doesn’t look a day over twenty-one—in fact, he could probably still pass as a college student—and has rather long dark hair that drapes over the sides of his face, covering the edges of his big doe eyes. “I’m Jungkook. This is Jimin and Hoseok.”
“Nice to meet you all,” you say, stepping aside so they can enter.
The shortest one, Jimin, grins in response, and Hoseok, behind him, gives you a wave. It’s refreshing enough as is, not having to exchange formal greetings and shake each other’s hands like you do with everyone else. Hoseok even gives you a bit of a nod, too.“You, too,” he says. “We’ve heard so much about you.”
Oh, have they, now? Interesting.
“All good things, I hope,” you say awkwardly, forcing a small smile as Taehyung comes bounding into the room, ears perked up at the sound of his friends’ voices.
“Definitely. Thanks for having us over. We didn’t wanna intrude on the sanctity of your new place,” Jungkook says, gesturing vaguely to the house as a whole. He’s got this excellent, genuine grin on his face, the kind that people who are just happy to be alive always wear.
Already he’s said enough to charm the shit out of you. Who knew Taehyung’s friends could be so… friendly? “Please, you’re welcome any time. I was just thinking Taehyung was getting a little lonely.”
“There he is!” Jimin shouts excitedly when he spots Taehyung behind the two of you, looking a lot more casual than he normally does when he’s alone with you, having abandoned his usual silky button-down and wide-leg slacks for a loose shirt and some sweatpants. You didn’t even know he had those things in his closet.
“Hey, everyone’s here!” Taehyung exclaims, just as happy. He squeezes past you to give the three of them a big hug, and it almost makes you feel like you’re intruding on something you shouldn’t be in. Even though this is literally your house.
“Nice place you got here,” Hoseok comments, eyes drifting around the living room. “Very minimalist, I like it.”
“Sure hope you don’t spill anything on those nice leather couches of yours,” Jungkook says.
“Yeah, unlike Kook, who has spilled tomato soup on every shirt he’s ever owned,” Jimin jokes, earning laughs from Taehyung and Hoseok and a punch from Jungkook.
“Moved after we married,” Taehyung says simply, shrugging his shoulders. It’s an easy enough explanation for why it doesn’t look at all lived in. Here’s hoping none of them realize you sleep in different bedrooms.
“Yeah, congratulations on that, man,” Hoseok says, giving Taehyung a celebratory nudge in the shoulder. “Who’d have thought, out of the four of us, Kim Taehyung would be the first one to settle down.”
The way Taehyung’s body tenses up at that comment does not go unnoticed by you.
“Seriously, I would have never guessed,” Jimin adds on. “You’re showing us a new side of yourself, Tae. But I’m happy for you.”
Normally, you’d probably take offense at such blatant insinuations that your husband was a former playboy, especially from his equally noncommittal friends. But truthfully, it’s not like you were blind to Taehyung’s transgressions either. And what matters most is the fact that since it was announced publicly, you are the only woman he’s been seen with since your engagement.
“Me too. You seem to really like her. I’m glad,” Jungkook pipes up, sending a smile your way. You definitely feel like you don’t belong in this conversation. “I think the two of you will be good for each other.”
“Yeah, I hope so,” Taehyung says with a nervous chuckle. His eyes quickly shoot your way, the two of you meeting gazes, your hesitant expressions matching. At least the two of you are on the same page. “Alright, alright, enough,” Jungkook says. “Who’s ready to get their ass kicked in FIFA?”
“You’re on, Jeon. But when I win, you owe me a five-star dinner,” Hoseok challenges.
“Deal.”
Hoseok, Jimin, and Jungkook immediately crowd towards the couch, and you take that as your cue to leave. But before you can disappear down the hallway, you and Taehyung look awkwardly at each other, hands tied. It’s not like you can say anything to them.
The truth is that, sometimes, it’s easy to forget that not everyone else knows that your marriage is just for business. Sometimes it’s easy to forget that there are still people out there that believe you marry for love.
Isn’t it crazy to think that you used to be one of those people, too?
“Hey,” Taehyung says when you meet up at the bottom of the stairs again.
“Hey,” you respond.
“You look nice.”
You scoff a little to yourself. What, are you exchanging compliments now? “Thanks,” you say, looking him up and down. “You’re not so bad yourself.” Like he ever is.
“I knew you had taste,” Taehyung teases, and it’s the sort of comment that would have earned him a melon ball to the face back when the two of you were teenagers at a debutante ball, but today only earns him a roll of your eyes as you join hands. You don’t have anything big tonight—just a small dinner to celebrate some sort of business accomplishment for your family, which means that all you have to manage is not ending up in some sort of food fight by the end of the night.
“I didn’t have a choice, did I?” You retort easily as you get into the car.
You don’t normally speak a lot on the way to events. Not that you ever did, but even as your relationship has slowly faded from pure hatred to attempts at compromise, you both seem to relish in being able to stare out of your respective backseat windows and into the city that surrounds you. Just out of curiosity, about halfway through the ride you look towards Taehyung to see what he’s up to, and find yourself genuinely surprised to see him leaning against the window with his eyes closed. Is he sleeping? A couple more minutes of gazing at him tells you he is, because his body has gone lax and his breathing has evened out, soft snores leaving his mouth. This ride can’t be longer than twenty minutes. Has he not been sleeping well? Up in that enormous second-floor bedroom of his?
He’s awake by the time the car parks outside the restaurant, this fancy name brand steak place that was chosen solely because the biggest beneficiaries of your family’s new business deal are two sixty-year-old men whose entire diet consists of beef and beer. No cameras tonight, just a small family affair. You and Taehyung hold hands as you enter the restaurant and are led to the private room in the back anyway.
You and him are seated on the far end of the long, rectangular table, alongside all of the other adult children dragged along to celebrate something that has no effect on their lives. But it’s nice, because the space alone prevents your parents from actively speaking with you, and you and Taehyung can stay in your own little bubble, only chiming in for a toast when necessary.
“What are you going to get?” He asks you, the two of you gazing at the menu. No matter how fancy this place is, all the options seem to boil down to steak, steak, steak, steak, and caesar salad. Classic.
“Oh, so you actually care now?” You counter, an eyebrow raised in amusement.
Taehyung laughs. “Aren’t I supposed to?”
You narrow your eyes at him suspiciously, wise to his usual shenanigans. It’s hard to tell if Taehyung really means what he says, or if it’s all for show. But perhaps he’s asking because he’s genuinely curious, since no one else seems to be paying you any attention.
“The choices on this menu are simply overwhelming,” you say, motioning to the six options in front of you.
“I know, I’m so torn,” Taehyung jokes, making you huff out a little giggle. At least he’s still got that same sense of humor.
You both end up going for a pretty classic steak dinner, which neither of the two of you finish because the damn portions are the size of your head. Dinner is, in and of itself, absolutely mindless, all of your parents talking about things that don’t concern you whatsoever, leaving you and Taehyung to your own devices as you desperately try to make the night go by faster.
At one point, you notice Taehyung’s foot brushing up against yours, the leather of his loafers brushing against the toe of your patent heel. Thinking someone of it, you push back, foot nudging his back to his own chair. It’s not a second later that Taehyung retaliates, the two of you dancing around each other underneath the table.
If the two of you were any younger, or perhaps any less resigned to your fate, there’s no doubt in your mind you would be attempting to get Taehyung to fall off his chair in an effort to do the same to you. Footsie means war. But when the both of you know that, at the end of the day, you’ll still be going home to the same place, and waking up the next morning in the same house, it doesn’t feel like this is a battle.
It’s just life.
Eventually, you meet Taehyung’s eyes with a hesitant smile, shoe pressed against his, stuck in ceasefire. And for once, he doesn’t have that devilish look in his eye, that smug little grin on his face that tells you that he’s going to make you regret whatever it is you just did. He’s just smiling back at you, all pink lips, having found real fun in the little things.
And that makes you happy.
The rest of the dinner is uneventful, which, in your book, is about as good as a dinner can go. You cheers to the future of your parents’ relationship with their newfound partners and say a quick goodbye to them both, hurrying out of there before they can ask you any questions on your relationship with your husband. But you don’t spend the car ride in silence on the way back.
Instead, you say, “Have you been sleeping well?”
The question seems to catch Taehyung off guard. He was already getting in position to take a power nap on the ride home, head pressed up against the window of the car.
“What?”
“Have you been sleeping well?” You repeat. “I noticed you fell asleep on the way here.”
“Huh? Oh, yeah, I guess,” he says, a hand scratching the nape of his neck. “I mean, it’s been hard adjusting, I suppose. But I’ll get over it.”
Hard adjusting? You’ve been together for nearly three months now. Three months worth of sleeping in the same penthouse bedroom, on the same soft-as-a-cloud mattress, underneath the same weighted blanket. And he’s still having trouble?
“Oh. I mean, I just wanted to ask because you seem really tired lately.”
“I got a lot on my plate, what can I say,” Taehyung says with an empty smile, forcing a chuckle. “I’ll be fine, seriously. You don’t have to worry about me.”
“Isn’t that my job?” You remind him. “I am your wife.”
Taehyung doesn’t say anything to that. He just lets out an audible breath, the kind you let out when you’re amused and have something snarky to say, but don’t have the energy to get the words off your tongue.
The rest of the ride is pretty quiet.
When you get home, you place your house keys in the bowl by the entrance and take off your shoes, just about ready to take a hot shower and collapse in bed, when Taehyung’s voice stops you.
“Hey,” he begins, almost hesitantly. You look back at him inquisitively. “I was thinking, maybe, if you wanted, we could start sleeping in the same bed?”
You scrunch your nose up. Not in disgust, but in surprise. In bewilderment. What brought this on, all of a sudden?
“Really?” You ask, because you can’t help yourself. “I thought we liked the separate bed thing. Gives us privacy.”
“Yeah,” Taehyung says with a shrug, “but—I don’t know, it’s stupid. I just thought, you know, since we’re married and all. And it’s been three months.” He looks about two seconds away from backtracking, from shaking his head and going upstairs before you can say anything else.
“Alright,” you say quickly, nodding your assent. Taehyung’s eyes widen when he hears the word, like he had completely expected you to shut him down the moment he made the suggestion. “If that’s what you want. We can try it.”
“You sure?” He asks, that same hesitant smile from earlier lacing his features. It’s strange. He almost looks… sweet. Nervous.
You grin back at him. “Yeah, I am.”
Taehyung lets you grab some of your toiletries and your pajamas from your designated bedroom before you head up the stairs together, towards the bedroom he’s claimed for himself. Funnily enough, this is the first time you’ve been in his room. Three months of living together and you haven’t dared step foot on the second floor.
You don’t know what you were expecting when he opens the door to let you inside. Maybe a room that screamed ‘Taehyung’ a little more than this one does. One that looks like an actual human has been living here. But other than one of his classic silk button-downs draped over a chair, there’s not a shred of evidence someone has actually been sleeping here. You could honestly be fooled rather easily that the shirt, too, is just decoration.
“You can pick a side,” Taehyung says casually. He grabs his own sleepwear—an old t-shirt and some sweats—and heads into the bathroom to change.
You wonder why Taehyung has had such a difficult time adjusting. This room is about as lavish as a bedroom can get. And yet.
Sitting down on the left side of the bed, you begin to remove your own clothes, unzipping tonight’s dress and stepping quickly into your pajamas, hurrying to make sure Taehyung doesn’t catch you half-naked. How funny is that, you think to yourself. You’ve been married for three months and you still can’t bear the thought of Taehyung seeing you without a shirt on.
When Taehyung comes out of the bathroom, hair all messy and clothes all casual, he grins lazily to himself. “I sleep on the right anyway,” he comments mindlessly.
Within twenty minutes the both of you are about as ready to pass out as you have ever been, the only lights still on the ones on your respective nightstands.
“Goodnight,” Taehyung says, reaching an arm over to switch his off.
“Goodnight,” you tell him, turning off yours as well. And all of a sudden, the room is shrouded in darkness.
You fall asleep instantly.
When Taehyung wakes up the next morning, the first thing he says to you is that he hasn’t slept that well in ages.
“You slept together?” Victoria shrieks, so loud you actually have to move your phone away from your ear as you punch in the code inside the elevator for access to your floor.
“We did not sleep together,” you emphasize. “Okay, well, we sleep together, as in, in the same bed. But we are fully clothed. And not the slightest bit interested in doing anything other than sleeping.”
“I thought you said you liked having your own space,” Victoria points out. “When was the first time you—uh…” she pauses to find the right words, “shared a bed?”
“A couple weeks ago. It’s really not so bad, I don’t know why you’re so hung up over it,” you say, lips pursed. You squeeze the phone between the side of your head and your shoulder, hands full of shopping bags, the string of the handles burning your skin. Maybe you should look into getting a personal shopper.
“I’m hung up over it because, for the longest time, you have sworn off Kim Taehyung. Called him dead to you. Insulted him every chance you get.”
You scoff. You don’t need reminding of how much you hated him, how much you can’t believe you have to spend the rest of your life with him. “It’s different now. We’re married. And he said he wasn’t sleeping well. I felt bad.”
“He wasn’t?”
“Enough about him,” you say, shutting her up. You don’t feel like talking about him with Victoria anymore. “Word through the grapevine says that your parents are actually thinking of letting you start your own company?”
It’s enough to distract Victoria. For the rest of the ride in the elevator, she talks animatedly about a new streaming service her parents are considering letting her launch, under their parent business, of course, but it’s her own company nonetheless. And you’re proud of her. Proud she could do something your parents would never dream of letting you do. Proud she could make that happen.
You push open the front door with the side of your hip after entering in the security code, phone still snug between your ear and your shoulder, when you hear Taehyung call out your name.
He comes into view from the kitchen, which surprises you because you have, on multiple occasions, made fun of how much of a disaster chef he is, especially because he’s admitted to you he’s not a very good cook.
“I made brownies,” he says, holding out a plate of the chocolate treats in front of you. Instinct has you dropping your bags on the floor by your feet and reaching out, but you eye him first, suspicious.
“I have to go,” you tell Victoria, hanging up before she even gets a chance to object to your sudden departure. “You made these?”
“Yes, I did,” Taehyung says, rather proud.
“And the kitchen is… still standing?” You ask, skeptical.
Taehyung frowns at you, clearly unimpressed. “How bad of a chef do you think I am?”
“Pretty bad,” you admit with a shrug.
Taehyung pouts sadly to himself for a moment. “These are good, I swear. Nothing weird in them like vegetables or anything either. I used a box mix.”
“No wonder they look so nice,” you comment snidely, hesitant hand reaching out to grab one. They feel like brownies. So that’s good.
“Hey, I was the one who had to crack the eggs and shit. Three eggs! And not one eggshell in the bowl!” Taehyung says, clearly very pleased with himself.
You laugh at his enthusiasm, taking a bite. It’s good. And exactly what you needed after a long day of shopping. “I’m proud of you. They taste good.”
“I knew you wouldn’t doubt me.” Taehyung grins.
“They’re really good, actually,” You amend, genuinely surprised. And the best part is that you can count at least ten brownies left on that plate, which means that you get at least five more. Which, if you had any less self-restraint, you would probably eat all at once within the day.
“I’m glad you like them. They’re all for us, you know. No one else to share them with,” he says.
“Honestly, I’m probably going to finish them by tonight. You’ll have to make more tomorrow,” you say sheepishly.
“We can make some together,” Taehyung suggests.
“I’m looking forward to it,” you respond. The words come off your mouth easily, tumbling from your lips without you having to think about it. You aren’t saying them because you have to. You’re saying them because you want to. Because baking with Taehyung doesn’t actually sound too bad. Especially if it means more brownies.
“You’ve, uh, you’ve got something,” Taehyung says, gesturing vaguely to the side of his lip.
“Oh, I do? Yikes,” you say, a little embarrassed. Your hand comes up to wipe at the left side of your mouth. “Is it gone?”
“Wait, here, let me do it,” Taehyung says, reaching out towards you. He presses his palm against the side of your face, cradling your cheek and jaw in his enormous hands, and all at once it feels like your skin is on fire.
Your body freezes up at the touch, at the way his thumb swipes at the corner of your mouth, right against your lips, wiping away nothing but a goddamn brownie crumb. You look at him, look right at him, how can you look anywhere else when he’s right in front of you like this, and it feels like you are caught in his gaze, a rain droplet trapped on a web, a bee stuck in its own honey. His big, brown eyes sparkle from the ceiling lights, a chocolate sky that mirrors the food he just made for you. He looks at you and his eyes are so soft, so open, so happy to be looking right back at you. God.
“There,” he says, a moment too late.
“Thanks,” you stammer out, speechless otherwise.
You both stand there, looking at each other, wordless expressions drawn all over your faces, no idea what to do next.
After a while, Taehyung breaks the silence. “Do you wanna order takeout tonight?”
“Okay,” you nod, still a little breathless. Taehyung smiles before retreating back to the kitchen, leaving you standing in the entranceway, shopping bags abandoned by your side.
You look over to where he’s vanished. There’s a part of you that wishes he hadn’t left. A part of you that makes you want to see him again.
Phone calls from your mother are never good. The last time she called… well, you know how that went. So when you see her contact information light up your home screen, it’s only instinct that you feel your heart rate spike.
“Hello?” The voice that comes out doesn’t even sound like yours.
There’s no good way to put what comes next. Your grandmother has died. Heart attack. The paramedics got there too late. It was over before it even started.
For a moment, for a split second, it feels like everything is frozen. Like the world has come to standstill. Your mother’s voice echoes in your ears, suspended in time, the words turning into stone as they crash onto the floor. And when they do, it is as if everything comes back to life.
Truth be told, you don’t know how long you stay there, sitting on the edge of the left side of the bed, your phone resting lifelessly in the palm of your hand. It feels at once like an eternity and only a second in time. You spoke to your grandmother two days ago. You had promised that you and Taehyung would visit her soon. How can this be happening?
Your phone buzzes relentlessly in your hands, condolences pouring in from every person in your contacts, sorry’s and heart emoticons and If you need anything, I’m always here’s filling up your screen. There’s a part of you that vaguely registers your mother, alongside some of the other members of your family, trying to call you. But nothing can seem to shake you.
Until—
“Y/N? You still up here?”
You hear Taehyung before you see him. Hear his voice, hear his footsteps, hear the door creak open as he enters your bedroom. Slowly, almost sluggishly, you twist around to look at him, the mere act knocking the wind out of you. Or maybe you were already breathless.
“Hey, you alright?” Taehyung knows instantly that something is wrong.
“My grandmother died.” The words sit heavy on your tongue. There’s no point in not telling him. He’ll find out soon enough. He’s… he’s family, isn’t he?
“What?” Taehyung freezes in place. “I—I’m so sorry to hear that, Y/N. Are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” you say, voice weak but steady. You blink up at him, once, twice, three times, and then suddenly you feel tears running down your cheeks.
Taehyung doesn’t say anything else. He rushes to your side and sits himself down on the bed next to you, arms wrapping around your body. And you don’t think about the fact that it’s him, about the fact that this is the closest the two of you have ever been. You just let yourself be engulfed in his frame, let yourself be enveloped in his hold as the tears stream down your skin, little hiccups jolting your throat. You close your eyes and press yourself into his arms, head resting against his chest, and wish so desperately that so many things about your life were just a little bit different.
It must be at least five minutes before either one of you dares to move. Your phone begins to rattle incessantly, that familiar and insistent buzz that the both of you are hard-pressed to ignore.
“I think you should answer that,” Taehyung whispers into your skin, lips right by your forehead.
“Yeah,” you sniffle, sitting up next to him and wiping the remnants of wetness by your eyes. Well, Taehyung’s seen you cry. There’s no going back now. “You’re probably right.” You look down at the phone. It’s your father.
“I’ll be downstairs, okay? Unless you want me to stay,” he offers, looking hesitant.
You shake your head. “No, it’s—it’s okay. I’ll be fine.”
“Call me if you need me,” he makes you give him a nod of understanding before he finally gets up, hands slowly removing themselves from your skin, leaving little sparks in their wake. Remnants of warmth. Suddenly, you feel much colder. Hardly a minute later he’s out of the room, and you can hear his distant footsteps as they make their way down the stairs.
Sighing, blinking, and swallowing all at once, you pick up.
The call passes by in a blur. Your father says the will will take at least half a year to be executed, but that the funeral is already being planned. Your grandmother had hoped you would eulogize her. You agree, but you have no idea what you will say. He says Taehyung is invited but does not need to come if he cannot make it. He says a lot of other things too, about your mother, about your cousins, about your aunts and uncles and your poor grandfather, who passed five years ago, but you can’t even remember them moments after he’s said them.
When he hangs up, the tears on your cheeks have dried, patches of them left along your skin. You head to the bathroom, getting off your bed for the first time that day, and try to wash away everything that has stained the morning. A part of you doesn’t even want to bother, just wants to slug downstairs and eat as much sugary cereal as you can get your hands on, but you can’t go down there looking like this. Looking so helpless.
By the time you reach the kitchen, Taehyung is already standing there, on the opposite side of the counter island, a big stack of pancakes in front of him. They look mouth-watering.
“Hey,” he says softly. “Thought you might want something to cheer you up.”
“Did you make these?” You ask, a little endeared. That was thoughtful of him.
“Yeah. They’re still warm,” Taehyung says. He holds out a fork.
You grin.
The funeral is a week later. It sucks in every way that something can suck. But not in the same way your wedding sucked, or even the announcement of your engagement. It sucks because it’s a funeral, because you have to stare down your grandmother’s casket when a part of you still doesn’t even believe that she’s gone. Because everyone there is so sad, so melancholy, dressed in all black and looking down at their feet. Because everyone is so sorry for you, so sorry for your loss, everyone has nothing but condolences to offer you. What will those do? They won’t bring her back. They won’t change things. They won’t make you feel even the slightest bit better.
Taehyung comes. He comes because he offers, and because you want him to. You want someone whose hand to hold. Want someone to smile at you when you’re speaking in front of your entire extended family and trying not to cry. You want someone who is familiar, and warm, and there for you.
And most of all, you want someone who won’t keep the conversation going when you get home.
“Do you wanna order Chinese?” He asks, coming into the living room, where you have been sulking on the couch ever since you stepped foot inside the door.
“That sounds nice,” you force out.
“Okay. Your usual?”
“Yes, please.” You don’t bother asking how Taehyung already remembers what you like to order when you’ve only gotten Chinese twice in the last three months.
“I’ll call them.” He disappears off into the kitchen.
What you do appreciate about Taehyung is how he has defaulted to food as a comfort measure, and how the thought alone genuinely brightens you up a little bit. You don’t know each other very well—still, after three months, you couldn’t even say his favorite color—but he is doing his best, and he is trying his hardest. In some ways, you were unlucky to marry him. To marry someone you didn’t love. To be forced into a union you had no say in, with someone you had so much antagonistic history with.
But in some ways, your luck has changed. In some ways, marrying him was perhaps the best thing that could happen to you. Taehyung is snarky, a little devilish, and absolutely full of himself, but he is not thoughtless. He is not heartless. He has proven that he is willing to put in the work. That he can grow to care. To change. To compromise. And isn’t that the luckiest thing you could have gotten?
“I’m sure you’re probably sick of hearing people tell you they’re sorry for your loss.”
His voice breaks your reverie, carrying throughout the wide open space of your living room. He’s grinning honestly where he stands, slowly making his way over to you.
“Kind of, yeah,” you admit. “It’s not going to bring her back. Most of those people probably don’t even mean it.”
“Don’t say that,” Taehyung says, sitting down next to you. “I’m sure they do.”
You look at him skeptically.
“I mean, they’re sorry for your loss because that loss is causing you pain. And that sucks,” Taehyung explains, albeit a little less eloquently than you thought he would. “I know it sucks for me.”
“What do you mean?”
“I don’t like seeing you sad,” Taehyung says honestly, shrugging to himself.
You scoff a little to yourself. “I would have thought my downfall would be the exact thing the great Kim Taehyung would wish for himself.”
“Maybe a couple of years ago.”
You narrow your eyes.
“Okay, maybe even a few months ago,” Taehyung admits with a laugh, making you smile, ever so slightly. “But it’s different now. I like it when you’re happy. When you’re snarky and funny and a little evil. Seeing you like this… I don’t like the way it makes me feel.”
“That’s called empathy,” you point out.
“I’m trying to tell you that seeing you sad makes me sad, stop being a smartass,” Taehyung chides, and that really makes you grin. “There. There’s that smile I was looking for.”
“You’re so annoying,” you say, even though there’s no malice behind it. You give him a little push, palms of your hand pressing lightly against his shoulder as you roll your eyes.
“Only for you,” he promises. He manages to grab a hold of your wrist as your hand meets his torso, pulling you into him as he wraps an arm around your torso. You gasp a little at the sensation, head falling against his body, fitting snugly in the crook of his neck. He gives your side a comforting rub. “I’m sorry today was so shitty.”
“It was,” you agree. “But Chinese food will make it a little bit better.”
Taehyung looks positively scandalized. “What? ‘Chinese food will make it better’? But not your loving, doting husband?”
You pretend to think for a little bit, tilting your head up to the sky as you tap your chin with your finger. “Okay. Maybe that, too,” you cave after a bit of waiting, just to be extra bothersome.
“That’s what I thought,” Taehyung says proudly, looking down at you, eyes sparkling. You can feel his grip tighten as he presses you against his body, letting you rest your head on his side. It feels like the longest hug ever, like you’re wrapped up in a weighted blanket. Only it’s not a blanket. It’s Taehyung. It’s your husband.
He’s your husband.
“Tomorrow will be better,” he says, and it sounds a lot like a promise.
You nod against him, letting your eyes drift shut. Things are pretty awful right now. Your grandmother’s dead. The funeral was the saddest family event you have ever attended. You have no idea what’s supposed to happen next.
But he’s right. He seems to be right a lot these days, actually.
Tomorrow will be better.
Taehyung lets you sleep in for the next few days. Next several days, actually. Every time you wake up it’s close to noon and your husband is nowhere to be seen, the right side of the bed cold to the touch. It’s nothing to be worried about, though, because you can still see the noticeable dip in the bed from where he lies upon it, sinking his weight into the mattress. Taehyung’s an early bird and you’ve been having fitful nights ever since your grandmother passed.
Today, you pull yourself out from underneath the covers around noon, sluggish and still tired, squinting as the near-afternoon light streams through the enormous windows of the bedroom. Taehyung must have thought to keep the curtains open today.
You pull on the first casual clothes you see in your shared closet, some wide-leg sweatpants and a drapey t-shirt, and trudge downstairs like a raccoon to a trash can, hoping to fish through the kitchen cabinets to find something to eat.
Taehyung is, as far as you can tell, nowhere to be seen. You can’t seem to hear him anywhere, and a part of you wonders where he’s at when you stumble upon the note left on the granite counter.
Had a meeting downtown, be back around 1! There should be smoked salmon and some cream cheese and bagels in the fridge.
Taehyung.
You chuckle to yourself as you read his flowy handwriting, amused that he thought to let you know of, of all things, the available breakfast foods in the kitchen. You check the clock. It’s nearly noon. Which means you have just over an hour of the house all to yourself.
Having the house to yourself for five minutes is infrequent enough as it is, let alone for a whole hour. So often is Taehyung around, somewhere, holing himself up in one of the dozens of rooms or mindlessly wandering down the hallways. And for how much Taehyung is present, the funny part is that you still have no idea what he gets up to most of the time. Despite your voluntary abandoning of the separate bedroom rule, the two of you are still firm proponents of the sanctity of your personal spaces. There are rooms in the penthouse Taehyung has never been in, rooms filled with your clothes and makeup and accessories for when stylists come over before an event. A sewing room that you had specifically asked your parents for, because a part of you never let go of that childhood dream of being a fashion designer.
And there are rooms in the penthouse that you have never been in. Rooms with dark wooden doors that have always been kept closed, that you have never stepped foot in. It’s not that you aren’t curious as to what Taehyung gets up to. He could have a goddamn evil lair in one of those rooms and you would be none the wiser. But you don’t go, because he doesn’t go into your rooms. Because you two, despite all the vows you have broken, promised each other you wouldn’t.
An hour to yourself is almost a good enough excuse for you to head back up to the bedroom and take a nap. Not that you don’t get enough sleep on a regular basis, or that you even had a fitful night last night—hell, you woke up near noon today and already you want to go back to sleep—but what else is there to do when he’s not around? What new freedoms have suddenly been given to you?
You head back upstairs, much less groggy after that delicious bagel of yours, when you catch a whiff of what smells like wet paint coming from down the hallway. It’s potent and immediately invades your senses, prompting you to wonder if that has always been there, or just magically appeared. Maybe you were so sleepy earlier, you didn’t notice it.
Well, you notice it now. Unable to help yourself, you start to wander down the hallway, towards the source of the smell. God, it stinks. It takes you back to those days in middle school, when you would spray paint projects inside a tiny little classroom, have to step outside for fifteen minutes while you cracked the windows and aired it out. It gets stronger the further down the corridor you go, like a thick, smelly cloud stationed firmly within the walls of the penthouse. And then you realize where it’s coming from.
It’s an art studio.
A very messy art studio, you amend to yourself, as you peek inside. The door is wide open, and all of the windows are popped too, but the extra air circulation doesn’t seem to have made a dent in the scent. And all over the floor, the walls, and the tables are canvases covered in paint, denim jackets and pants and shirts with these wide, unafraid brushstrokes. Open cans of spray paint lie discarded on the hardwood floor stained with splotches of red, yellow, and green.
Is this what Taehyung does in his free time? Is this where he goes, this bright, sunny room at the end of the second floor hallway? Is this what he is making?
You look down in awe at the clothes resting on the floor, splayed out to maximize dry time. Abstract faces, landscapes, and words are painted onto the backs of jackets, the fronts of old white t-shirts. What hasn’t made it onto the clothes has been put on canvases instead, blurs of color mixed together in this purposeful pattern, confidence emanating from every stroke, every dot. It’s not art in the way that the gorgeous landscapes of Monet, the picture-perfect portraits of Kahlo, the messy, unplanned splatters of Pollock are. It’s art in a different way. In a Taehyung way.
Who knew he loved it so much?
You almost feel like an invader encroaching on his territory when you lean down to start cleaning up some of the mess, throwing out empty spray-paint cans and tossing out grey paint water. You don’t dare touch any of the work, don’t dare try to move it. You do what you can, washing out the brushes resting in the water and cleaning up the wet splotches of paint on the hardwood. Over time, the thick scent of still-wet paint slowly fades, disappearing out the window as the fresh afternoon air seeps in. And you stand there, in a room full of art, in a room full of pieces that Taehyung has undoubtedly poured his heart into creating, and you smile to yourself.
That’s how Taehyung finds you ten minutes later, peering into the room after declaring that his meeting had ended early.
“Thought I’d find you in here,” Taehyung says with a grin as you jump at the sound of his voice, eyes widen when you turn around to see him standing by the door.
“Oh, hey,” you say sheepishly. “I didn’t hear you come in.”
“Maybe because this is the farthest room in the house from the front door,” Taehyung teases lightly, coming up behind you. “I see you found my studio.”
“I know I’m not allowed in here,” you admit.
Taehyung scoffs. “Who says?”
“Didn’t we both agree on that?”
He shrugs. “Sort of. I think we just reached an unspoken understanding we wouldn’t invade each other’s personal space. But it was not in the fine print, no.”
“The fine print of what?”
“That deal we made.”
Right. That deal you made, four months ago, That deal, where the two of you agreed to pretend to be in love with each other during public appearances so you wouldn’t get burned at the stake by your families. Where the two of you agreed not to interact with each other otherwise because you hated each other so much.
“Oh, yeah,” you say distantly, feeling naive for already forgetting about it. It doesn’t seem to have slipped Taehyung’s mind whatsoever.
“It’s okay, I don’t mind that you’re up here,” Taehyung says, interrupting that piercing little voice in the back of your head that is asking you why on earth you forgot about that deal in the first place.
“Yeah, I—” You scratch at the nape of your neck, trying to find the words to say. “It just smelled like paint, so I wanted to see what you get up too. And it’s this, apparently.” You motion vaguely to the entire room.
“You sound… surprised,” Taehyung muses correctly.
“I guess I am,” you surmise. “I’m rather impressed, too, actually.”
“Really?” It’s Taehyung’s turn to sound surprised.
“Yeah,” you tell him honestly, looking into his eyes. “I—you know, I just came in here because the entire hallway smelled like wet paint and I wanted to know why. But I didn’t know you loved art so much.”
“There’s a lot you don’t know about me,” Taehyung points out.
You suppose that’s true. You don’t know his favorite color. His favorite song. His favorite book. For a long time, you didn’t know what he got up to on his side of the penthouse. You don’t know how he met his friends. What he studied in university. Who he has loved in the past. Who he loves now. You don’t know why he does the things he does, and why he doesn’t do the things he doesn’t do.
But you do know his Chinese takeout order.
And you do know his hobbies. Well, one of them, at least.
Who’s to say you can’t learn more?
“Well,” you start with a smile. “I’m your wife, aren’t I? Shouldn’t I begin to learn?”
Taehyung picks up what you’re putting down instantly, grinning in response. “Only if you’ll tell me things about you, too,” he requisitions.
“I will,” you promise. It’s the easiest one you’ve ever had to make.
His face is light, bright, bathed in the rays of the afternoon sun. His eyes shimmer as they meet yours, golden flecks more pronounced like this, in this gorgeous, open space, daylight streaming through the windows. Looking at him makes you feel like you are surrounded by warmth, makes you feel like the sun is opening its arms out to you. He has always been gorgeous. Beautiful. But looking at him like this, standing in the middle of a room filled with all the things he loves, a yellow halo surrounding him—he is ethereal.
Taehyung smiles. “Then I will, too.”
The hand-holding comes naturally tonight.
The funny thing is, actually, you don’t need to hold hands at this gathering. It’s not an event. Or a public appearance. It’s not even a business dinner. It’s your aunt’s sixtieth birthday party, reserved exclusively for family. Isn’t that strange? That Taehyung is, technically, family now?
For so long you had vowed to stay as far away from him as possible. Vowed to stick it to him whenever and wherever you could, do anything you could to get on his nerves, rile him up. Vowed that when you, one day, took over your family affairs, you would never, ever invite him. Make it known that he wasn’t to be a part of your life. And yet, here you are. Clinging to him despite being well-acquainted with—loved by, even—every other person in the room. Holding his hand like a goddamn lifeline.
To be fair, Taehyung doesn’t look a hair out of place here. Dressed relatively casually, a smart sweater with a collared shirt underneath it, he smiles warmly at all of your relatives and presents your aunt with a beautiful and very expensive scarf the two of you had commissioned from a designer in Italy, which she absolutely loves. She pinches his cheek and proceeds to wear it for the rest of the night.
“Damn,” you murmur to yourself as you wander around your aunt’s house, hand wrapped around his arm. “This place hasn’t changed a bit.”
“When was the last time you were here?” Taehyung asks.
The question actually makes you think for a moment. “I don’t know, maybe five years ago? Last couple of birthdays I was overseas or in school. Had to send her a card.”
“Bet your parents were real pleased with that,” he jokes, making you both laugh. At least you two will always be able to share your experiences of domineering and influential parents with each other.
“Oh, I’m sure. Just as pleased as they were when they realized how much we hated each other.” You expect that little jest to elicit a laugh out of Taehyung as well, but he just smiles tightly, huffing out a breath of acknowledgement.
“Eh, it’s not like that now, is it?” He offers up.
“I suppose not,” you muse, sitting down together on her ancient grandma couch in the living room. No matter how rich your family gets, she’ll never get rid of this thing, that’s for sure.
One thing you’ve picked up over time is that, for every second Taehyung spends basking in the spotlight, he spends an equal amount of time lingering by the wall, watching the rest of the world turn without him. He’s an observer. He is one by nature, feeling an irresistible pull to understand humans in a way only artists could ever do. He sits down next to you and watches your family in an environment where they can relax, where they can feel comfortable and be casual with one another.
Very seldom have you ever brought friends to events like these. Small family affairs. But Taehyung isn’t a friend, is he? No, he’s your husband. He belongs here just as much as you do.
“My family seems to really like you,” you point out. Not that anybody has ever harbored as much disdain for him as you. Your parents called him respectable and polite when they told you you were to be wed. Your grandmother had said he was a dashing young man. He doesn’t exactly have to reach far to be loved around here.
“That’s my job, isn’t it?” He replies snidely.
“Oh, just take the compliment,” you say with a roll of your eyes. Taehyung always has to be so difficult. “I’m surprised you aren’t nervous as hell. Last boyfriend I brought to meet my parents was shaking in his Louis Vuitton shoes.”
“Last boyfriend, huh?” Taehyung’s interest has been sufficiently piqued. “And, uh, how many of those have you had?”
You narrow your eyes at him suspiciously, smile twitching on your lips. “Wouldn’t you like to know, Mr. Heartbreaker.” Pretty rich of Taehyung to be asking you such a question when he’s probably had more girlfriends than you can count on both hands. “Not as many as you’ve had girlfriends, that’s for sure.”
“Guess I’m a lot different than all those trashy guys you’ve dated, aren’t I?” He asks, an eyebrow raised as he looks at you.
“You are?”
Taehyung nods assertively. “Well, yeah. First of all, I’m your husband. Second of all, your parents love me. Third of all, you love me, too.”
You scoff. “Don’t humble yourself. You don’t know me that well.”
“Speaking of which,” Taehyung says, eyes wide as he points to you knowingly, “how about you tell me a little fact about yourself? It’s my job to learn about you, isn’t it?”
“That is my line, watch it,” you sneer, pointing back at him. You wrack your brain for a fact that you can tell him, something more exciting than your favorite color but less weird than one of those terrible icebreaker exercises you had to do in college seminars. Something that has pertinence to who you are. Who you’ve become. “Alright. I used to want to be a fashion designer when I was little.”
Now that catches Taehyung off guard. “Really?” He says, genuinely intrigued.
You shrug. “Yeah. I learned to sew when I was really little. Been tailoring and hemming clothes all my life. But I always wanted to design my own stuff.”
“Is that what’s in your room?” Taehyung asks. “A sewing machine?”
“Bingo.”
“Wow,” Taehyung says. “I didn’t know that.”
“Isn’t that the whole point of this exercise?” You say, just to be smart.
Taehyung shakes his head, eyes rolling.
“What about you?” You ask. You can’t imagine what he’ll say. Astronaut. Veterinarian. Or, if he really wants to surprise you, a business executive.
“A museum curator.”
It is an answer that simultaneously surprises and doesn’t surprise you at all.
“Fitting,” you muse. “You could have put your own art on display.”
“Pretty sure that’s, like, super unethical,” Taehyung reminds you.
“So? You’re rich. Start your own museum. Put your own art on display. Live your dream,” you amend. “It shouldn’t be holed up in that studio of yours forever. It deserves to be seen.”
Taehyung smiles at you. “You think so?”
You nod. “Of course. You create beautiful things, Tae.” It’s the first time you’ve ever called him that. And that is not lost on Taehyung, either.
“Thank you,” he says softly, blinking as he looks at you. He doesn’t say anything else. He doesn’t need to.
Later that night, when everyone’s gotten a few drinks into their systems and Bruce Springsteen is playing low on the stereo, Taehyung disappears off towards the bathroom, no doubt because of the excellent soup that was served that night. All by your lonesome, you feel a little stranded, surrounded by your old relatives dancing on the hardwood floor of the dining room, your other cousins too young to actually spend time with.
In the commotion, your mother comes up to you, swirling a rather large glass of red wine in her hand.
“Where’s Taehyung?” She asks.
“Bathroom.”
“No wonder you were alone,” she says with a hearty laugh. “The two of you have been glued to each other’s sides all evening.”
“He’s my husband,” you offer as an explanation.
“I know, I know,” she says, shaking you off with a smile. Your mother is a lot more casual once she’s had her fill of wine, no doubt her favorite, Bordeaux. A lot more loving, too. “You really made your grandmother proud, you know? She loved you so much.”
“I know,” you say, trying not to get choked up at the mere mention of your grandmother.
“She was so happy to see you with Taehyung. It made her feel safe that you would be taken care of,” she continues on, barely paying you and your swimming eyes any attention. “She would be so happy to see you with him now, too. How much you love her.”
“I miss her,” you hiccup out, trying to compose yourself. Nothing kills a birthday party like some sad sack crying over her deceased grandmother.
“I know, darling,” your mother says, calling you by a nickname she has hardly used ever since you turned eighteen. She squeezes you tightly, a small hug of comfort. “I miss her, too.”
Someone calls your mother’s name, distracting her as she wanders off to your uncle, who is asking what the best way to cut the three-tiered cake on the dining room table is. She bids you a goodbye before disappearing towards the kitchen, no doubt ready to make the cutting of the cake an affair all on its own.
Taehyung comes back soon after, spotting you instantly as you stand around in the living room.
“Hey,” he says, noticing the wet shimmer of your eyes. “You alright?”
You nod, feeling better already now that he has returned. Now that he is by your side. “Yeah, I’m fine.”
“I hope those tears aren’t because you missed me,” he says, wiping away a stray one that has escaped from your eyes. You close them as his thumb brushes against your upper cheek, your eyelashes, opening them only when you’ve felt his touch vanish from your skin, leaving little sparks in their wake.
“No,” you say. But the night makes you honest, and a couple of drinks, even more so. “But I’m glad you’re here.”
Taehyung smiles. “Me, too.”
For all those days you have spent together, never have you and Taehyung had a night in. Which isn’t necessarily completely surprising, considering how many evening events the two of you have had obligations to attend, considering your differing work schedules and meeting times. Considering that, for a very long time, the two of you had no desire to spend any time with each other at all.
But tonight, there is nothing on your calendar. No galas, no dinners, no meetings, no schedules. There is only Taehyung, who has spent the entire afternoon up in his studio, inhaling spray paint fumes and doing what he loves. And there is only you, who has spent the entire afternoon wondering what the hell you’re going to do tonight when there is nothing else planned.
You knock on the door to his studio, catching him right as he’s finishing up another piece. This one is a single flower, painted in broad, confident strokes, bright green and red and sunflower yellow decorating the canvas.
“Hey, what’s up?” He asks, turning around to face you.
“Wanna order takeout tonight?” You suggest.
Taehyung grins.
Thirty minutes and your favorite Chinese food later, you and Taehyung have settled onto the couch, trays of dumplings and noodles and rice in front of you, an unfunny movie playing in the background.
You can’t remember the last time the two of you sat on this couch together. Maybe that night you had made the deal? Perhaps not even then. It wouldn’t at all surprise you if you found out that this was the very first time you and Taehyung have sat together on your couch, in your living room, in your house. So often is it occupied by others—Victoria, who sometimes comes over to ooh and ahh at your closet, Jimin, Jungkook, and Hoseok, who sit on this couch and play FIFA like it’s their job, your mother, when she wants to make herself at home in a place that doesn’t belong to her—but never you. Never you and him.
“This is kinda nice, isn’t it?” You ask, swallowing a bite of dumpling.
“Chinese food is always nice,” Taehyung responds over a mouthful of cold noodles.
“Not that,” you say with a sigh, “this. Sitting together. Watching this shitty movie.”
“It’s not that shitty,” Taehyung tries to reason. On screen, the main character is getting pied in the face during some weird college fundraiser. “Okay, it’s a little shitty. But it’s good background noise, right?”
You nod halfheartedly. “I guess.” Silence. You take another bite of your dumpling, not really sure how to continue the conversation. “We don’t really get to do this a lot, you know? Sit and eat dinner and watch a movie together. Like a date.”
“We’re on a date now, are we?” Taehyung muses, eyeing you snarkily.
“Isn’t that what this is?” You retort.
He shrugs. “I suppose it is.”
“Tell me another fact about you,” you request, looking over to him where he sits on the opposite side of the couch.
“About what?”
“Anything.”
Taehyung pauses, ponders for a moment. But he could never say anything wrong. Not when there is still so much you don’t know about him. Still so much you want to learn, so much you want to commit to memory. For so long you have stared at the planes of his face, the curve of his nose, the twinkle in those dark brown eyes. Those you will always remember. But what about who he is? What he loves? Those are things you still don’t know.
“The very first time I met you,” Taehyung begins, “I asked Jimin what your name was.”
“When was that?” You ask. Despite you being someone who has spent the better part of the last several years vowing never to give Taehyung the time of day, you sure don’t remember when it all started.
“That debutante ball,” Taehyung remembers fondly, “when we were fifteen. I asked Jimin what your name was because I wanted to ask you to dance.”
“Shut up, no you didn’t,” you say with a scoff.
“It’s true. You were standing there in that poofy white dress and I wanted to ask you to dance,” Taehyung points out. The fact that he even remembers what you were wearing is shocking.
Who knew. Who knew, back then, that you would one day grow up to marry him.
“And what did I say?” You demand more.
Taehyung laughs at the memory. “I came up to you, and I asked you if you wanted to dance, and you said, and I quote, ‘Who are you?’”
“No,” you say, aghast at your own behavior. Were those really the first words you ever said to KIm Taehyung?
“You did. Don’t you remember?”
You think back. Think back to every year you have ever known Taehyung, every year you have spent scowling at him from across ballroom floors, making some snide remark as you pass by each other in the hallway. Every year you have spent cursing his existence, willing him away from you so he could bother someone else. Every year you have listened to rumor after rumor of girlfriend after girlfriend. You think back and somewhere, somewhere in there, in those dusty corners of your brain and cobwebbed boxes of your heart, is that first memory of Taehyung, too.
Of him standing there in some generic black suit, black hair swept over his forehead, shoes too big. Of him coming up to you, trying to be as suave as a fifteen year old could be. Of you saying to him, instead of a hello, or even a what’s your name, “who are you?”
Of him saying—
“And you said, ‘your dream come true’.” Like a dam bursting open, the memories flood back to you all at once. “I remember that.”
Taehyung laughs out loud at the thought of him saying something so cheesy. “Unsurprisingly, you didn’t want to dance with me.”
“You were so—” you begin, but you don’t have the words. Don’t have the words to express how you felt about him that night. Don’t have the words to express how you feel about him now. Thinking about this, talking about it, it is a bridge. A bridge between what was then and what is now. A bridge between who Taehyung was and who you were and who Taehyung is and who you are. “—so unthinkable. I couldn’t believe you had come up to me and said that. I couldn’t believe you had the audacity. But something about that night made me remember you. Made me remember your name.”
“You thought about me after that?” Taehyung asks. “Is that what you’re telling me?”
“There is something about you that is unforgettable,” you say, honest and real and true. What else can you tell him? The truth is that you have always thought about him. Whether you liked him or not.
You finish your dinner and place your trays on the end tables next to you, stacking your empty bowls and plates on top of one another as the movie rumbles on in the background.
“It is kind of a shitty movie,” Taehyung admits after a while of being wholly unenthused.
“Yeah,” you agree. “But it’s good background noise.”
Taehyung laughs at your little mockery, warm and deep and from his belly. You look at him. He feels so far away, on the other side of the couch. Feels like he’s miles apart from you. You have spent countless nights clinging to his harm, hand gripped tight in his. And sitting like this, a full couch cushion of space between the two of you—it isn’t enough anymore. So you inch closer.
And closer.
And a little closer.
Until you’re pressed up against his side, legs touching as they rest neatly in front of you, backs stick straight as you stare at the television.
Taehyung holds his arm up. An open invitation.
Without asking, you lean into him, resting your head in the crook of his shoulder, in the space right underneath his jaw. You pull your feet up onto the couch and curl into his frame, pressing yourself against him. He is warm and firm and inescapable. He smells of coffee and paint and Chinese spices. He wraps his arm around you and pulls you in, as if there were any other place you’d rather be.
You sit like that for a while. Wrapped up in each other. Lazing around on the couch as the stars twinkle above your head. The movie ends and the two of you don’t even bother skipping the credits, letting them and the cheesy 80’s pop song play on, a distant soundtrack.
“I never thought any of this would happen,” you breathe out.
Taehyung looks down at you curiously. “What? This?”
“All of it,” you admit. “Us. Getting married. That stupid tabloid picture. My grandmother. This. It’s all so new.”
“New things will happen all the time,” Taehyung muses aloud. “We can’t help when things change.”
“You don’t have any regrets?” You have plenty. Regrets that you’ll never become the CEO you wanted to be in college. Regrets that you’ll never become the fashion designer you wanted to be as a little girl. Regrets that you will come to resent this marriage, resent Taehyung more than you have in years past, all because you had no choice. Regrets that your grandmother couldn’t see you now. Regrets that there were so many things in your life you could have changed, but didn’t.
“I thought I did,” Taehyung tells you. “I wanted to spend more time with my friends. I wanted to major in art in college. I didn’t want to marry you. I know you didn’t want to marry me.” He looks down and you look up at the same time, eyes locking, inches apart. “But looking back on it, I’m happy where I am. With what I have.”
“I never thought it could ever be like this,” you say, words falling off your tongue before you even ask them to.
“What?”
“Us.”
There’s no need to elaborate. Taehyung understands. He understands that, half a year ago, you both would have thrown yourselves into a volcano before holding hands with each other. He understands that getting over your hatred for each other seemed like an absolutely insurmountable task. He understands that you had never wanted to marry each other, that you couldn’t believe you would have to spend the rest of your lives with each other.
And he understands that now, things are different.
“I’m glad things happened the way they did,” Taehyung begins. “I’m grateful for us.”
You press yourself impossibly closer to him, feel his grip tighten around you. Like this, you can hear his heartbeat. Hear it thump like a drum, steady and firm and unwavering. His heart beats against his chest and you wonder.
You wonder if he can hear the way yours beats for him, too.
There were lots of things that made your night in together special. But one of them is the glaring fact that you don’t get them very often. That their infrequency makes them all the more valuable.
This has become blatantly obvious to you, because right now you are not spending a night in together. Right now you are stuck at a gala that you have to attend for the sake of business, drinking thin flutes of champagne and mingling with people you barely speak to.
The one good thing about nights like these is that Taehyung looks positively gorgeous in suits. He sort of always has, but you’d never admit that to his face. At least not until now. And as his wife, you are lucky enough to have a front-row seat.
“I can feel you staring at me all the way from over here,” Taehyung deadpans as he helps himself to a chocolate-covered strawberry from the buffet table.
You’re too obvious to have any shame about it. “What can I say, I like the view.”
“Hard to believe I was the once the one being shouted at for being inappropriate in public,” Taehyung says with a shake of his head. He bites into the strawberry and eats it all in a single go, tossing the stems into a bin nearby as you join back up in the heart of the crowd.
“It’s only inappropriate if other people hear,” you tease, letting him guide you, hand intertwined with yours, towards an empty corner where the two of you can snuggle up to one another in (relative) peace.
“I don’t think the champagne was very good for your filter, Miss Y/N,” Taehyung hisses into your ear, warm breath tickling your skin.
“Don’t you mean Mrs. Kim?” You pose, an eyebrow raised.
That seems to do something to Taehyung. It’s not very bright in here, with it being nighttime and all, but even still you can see the way his eyes darken. See the way his lips curl upwards, feel the way his grip on you tightens. It sparks something within you. Something deep in the pit of your belly.
Something that makes you want more.
You test the waters. “Mrs. Kim has a nice ring to it, don’t you think, Tae?”
Taehyung looks about a moment away from losing control. But instead of slamming you against the wall in front of all of these people and giving you what you really want, he growls out, low and powerful, “Home. Now.”
He doesn’t need to tell you twice.
You hail your car outside of the venue and it’s all the both of you can do to not jump on each other right then and there, in the backseat of this giant black van, overcome with want, with need, with everything in between. Taehyung’s leg bounces impatiently the entire ride back, and the feeling of your hand pressed against his doesn’t seem to be calming him down. He pulls you close to him in the backseat of the car, a hand resting on your thigh. You eye him carefully, as if challenging him to be any more daring. He grins.
Home cannot come soon enough. The two of you tumble out of the backseat and into the elevators, where you mash the top floor button after entering in the security access code, desperate and shameless. The ride seems to take hours, and the heat that surrounds you practically smothers you, covers you, fills up your lungs and chokes you.
There is nothing left by the time you reach your door. The moment it slams shut behind you Taehyung presses you up against the back of it, pins you against the wood as he hovers over you, eyes tracing your lips.
“Tell me something,” he demands.
“What?”
“A fact. Something I don’t know.”
It doesn’t take much thinking. “I want you,” you breathe out, watch it hit his skin, watch the way his eyes glint in the light of the entranceway. “Please, Tae. I want you.”
It’s enough for him.
This is not the first time you and Taehyung have kissed. The first time was nearly five months ago, in a chapel, at an altar, surrounded by hundreds of people. It was so unfun that you seem to have eradicated the mere thought from your memory. But you remember that feeling from that day. That feeling you got when you pressed your lips against his, cemented your marriage with a kiss. That heat. That sting.
Kissing him now—that feeling has returned tenfold. When his lips meet yours, it feels like fire is rushing through your veins, setting alight every nerve it passes, unforgiving and relentless. His enormous hands come up to cup your jaw, fingers pressing against the skin of your cheeks as they pull you close to him, keep you trapped in his hold. This is not the first time you and Taehyung have kissed but it feels like it is—it feels like there is a lotus blooming on a lilypad in your heart, it feels like you have been struck by lightning, it feels like nothing else you have ever felt before. It feels brand new.
Pressing back against him, he slowly releases you from the cage he has created against the door, spinning around so the two of you can tumble up the stairs and into your bedroom, unable to resist sneaking in pecks here and there as you make your way upstairs. Every step you take you stop, giggle as he presses you against the railing just so he can steal another kiss from you, put his hands all over your body. It’s a wonder the two of you even make it into your bedroom at all.
When you do, however, all bets are off. Taehyung presses you against the still-made bedsheets with a glint in his eye and a growl on his lips, pupils blown wide as he stares down at you, at your body.
"Aren't you a sight? Laid out so pretty for me," he purrs, robbing a breath from you.
It's a tone you have yet to hear from him. You find yourself growing impossibly hot under his stare, burning with an uncharted desire.
You can hardly wrap your brain around it. Here you are, craving the man you had spent the better half of your young adult life loathing. Maybe it’s the champagne; maybe it’s the way his fingers are running slowly up the length of your clothed torso. Whatever it is, your stomach does flips, unfamiliar to the way your body preens under his touch.
"Don't let it go to your head," you tease, simply because you could.
Taehyung hums disapprovingly, pressing kisses into your neck as he grabs one of your thighs and wraps it around his waist, riding your dress up in the process.
You sigh, exposing your neck further for him as he paints bruises into your neck. It feels like just yesterday you had called him out at the altar for his habit of sporting the very same marks you were soon to wear.
Perhaps you should have thought twice about letting the man you had married purely under business pretenses press his hips against your clothed center, but as he rolls his into yours, your mind falls blank, silencing any and all reservations you should have.
Whimpering, you beckon his mouth back onto yours, tongue meeting his wantonly.
You feel his fingers creep up the outside of your bare thigh, thrilling you in the most primal way. Reaching the band of your underwear after what felt like entirely too long, he runs the pad of his thumb against the lacy fabric.
You could scream. He is doing this on purpose. He must be. Surely he knows how badly you were aching for him? For him to fill you– whatever the manner may be.
You let out a whine before you can help yourself, frowning as Taehyung looks pleased with himself, confirming his knowledge of your prolonged pleasure.
"What's that? Did you say something?" he mocks, looking cruel and yet strikingly gorgeous as he smirks above you.
"God, you're irritating,” you huff, hips jerking up against his as he pulls at the band of your underwear, the elastic snapping back into the flesh of your hip. "Just fuck me already."
He tuts, clearly unimpressed by your impatience, "Now, where is the fun in that?"
Your eyes flutter shut as his fingers suddenly snake their way between your thighs. Mouth falling ajar, you grip his shoulders as he runs his middle finger against your clothed slit, trailing up and down your warmth. To think he was still dressed while he was touching you like this...
"No... I think I'll take my time with you," he says.
You mew against his hand, arousal forming against his long digits' ministrations. You have to hand it to him. Taehyung knows what he’s doing. The life of a bachelor has seemingly served him well.
You aren’t usually vocal in bed, but the way he’s purring words of filth to you, breath hot against the shell of your ear as he tells you how hot and slick your pretty pussy felt against his hand, has you gasping and sputtering, your own fingers wrapping around his wrist.
The fabric of your panties provides a friction that toys the line of pleasure and pain, making you thrust up to meet his motions, your humility slipping from you.
Taehyung watches you intently, cock growing hard under the constraints of his dress pants. You look better than he could've imagined, eyes watering and body shivering under his touch, his fingers soaking with your arousal. He can only imagine what you'd feel like with his fingers fully buried into you, rocking them against your velvety walls.
He lets out a groan of his own, turned on by the idea of you fucking yourself onto his fingers, whimpering out his name in ecstasy.
There’s this part of you that faintly recognizes that Taehyung has done this plenty of times before. Plenty of times with plenty of other lovers. But there is a different part of you, that part that bursts with light and hope, that reminds you that he was never married to those other ones. That his allegiance lies with you. And that thought, knowing that deep within you, he is yours, makes your jaw fall slack, pretty noises tumbling from your lips and your thighs clamping around him.
You were close, closer than you care to admit. Every touch against you is careful yet deliberate as he reads the signs of your body, the way it keens and arches into him, offering you words of encouragement as your climax finally hits.
"That's right. Good girl. Let go for me," Taehyung coos, eyes dark and focused on your writhing form.
You cry out into the familiar space of your shared room, head thrown back as you ride out the high, letting it wrack your body, send jolts throughout your veins.
You barely have time to catch your breath when he presses his mouth back onto yours, kiss still as eager as it was when you both first entered your home. You are alight with satisfaction as he pulls away to press a trail of kisses against your jaw.
"I want—f-fuck," you stutter as he finds your already hypersensitive clit once more, rolling his thumb over your now soaked panties in tantalizing circles, "want to make you feel good, too."
Admittedly, this fantasy had crossed your mind once or twice, brought on by the way he carried himself in a suit and the way his large fingers wrapped around the champagne glass; confident, collected, and entirely charming. Who are you to shy away from a man like him? He certainly has always been rather good-looking.
He pauses his motions, pulling his hand back to sit on your waist. Your dress is of the finest, most delicate satin, and after tonight's activities, completely wrinkled. You can almost hear your stylist's cries of dismay. Whatever. You have a steamer. And why focus on the dress when it’s obvious the two of you are focused on what lies underneath it?
"Yeah?"
"Yeah." You nod, skin still burning from your past climax.
Helping you back up, Taehyung stands. You lick your lips as you sit back up on the edge of the bed, watching intently as he unbuckles his belt, audibly hissing as his pants fall to his ankles, cock visibly straining against the fabric of his underwear. Thank God you don’t have to stand. With the way your thighs still felt weak and how your husband looks like a goddamn Adonis towering above you? Your legs surely would give out underneath you if you rose.
Brows furrowed, Taehyung palms over himself briefly before pulling down the waistband of his underwear, his painfully hard member slapping against his torso.
Your eyes widened on instinct. While the last thing you wanted to do was help inflate Taehyung's already large ego, you were certainly impressed at his size; thick and girthy, his tip red and shining with precum.
He couldn't help but smirk, thoroughly pleased by the way you stared at him unabashedly, chest rising and falling heavily.
"Open up for me," he orders.
And who are you to deny a request from your dear husband?
Your pretty lips wrap themselves around his engorged tip, all remnants of lipstick long gone by now. Taehyung hisses, a hand finding the side of your jaw as you run your tongue against the underside of his cock.
"Fuck, you're so pretty," he grunts, fighting off the urge to grip the back of your head and fuck your throat. As much as he'd love your have you choking and drooling all over his cock – and boy would he – he lets you set your own pace, not wanting to overwhelm you.
It doesn't take long for you to sink your mouth further down, however, clearly set on making Taehyung feel as good as you could.
A low moan erupts from his throat, digits pressing into your jaw in request to take more of him in, which you happily oblige.
You had your eyes trained on him, completely obsessed with the way he panted through pink lips, hissing slightly every time your tongue rolled over his sensitive tip.
Lolling his head to a side, his eyes meet yours, gaze primal and wolfish as he watches the way you worked his cock.
"Doing so good, love. Doing so fucking good for me,” he murmurs.
You hum against his skin at the sound of the sudden pet name, an unfamiliar feeling fluttering in your belly. You push aside the feeling, focusing instead on the way he grunts at the new sensation you had just given him.
Giggling, you pull off his cock, opting instead to press a kiss against his leaking tip, making sure to hold his eyes as you run kitten licks against it.
"God, you're such a tease." He shakes his head in disbelief.
He looks so good above you, shivering and cursing out praises on how good your mouth feels, how well you take his cock. Running your tongue along the length of his shaft, you become certain that this is a display you can’t imagine yourself ever getting tired of. But you have all the time in the world, right?
"Y/N,” he gasps suddenly, hips jerking towards your face. "Love, I'm gonna-- gonna cum."
"Cum in my mouth, please." Your voice was pleading and desperate. Taehyung had never heard such words spoken more sweetly.
"Fuck's sake."
You let out a yelp in surprise as his fingers work their way through your hair, bringing your head back down onto his cock. You relax, though, when you feel the hot ropes of his cum hit the back of your throat, your hands finding purchase on his thighs as you do your best to swallow it all down.
Pulling yourself off him, you let out a small cough, eyes watering slightly as you hadn’t managed to prepare yourself with a breath before his release. His large palm runs across the top of your head as you caught your breath, expression flickering with something unfamiliar. Could it be... fondness?
Your heart stammers at the thought as you stand, slowly stepping out of your dress, letting it drape off of your figure. Taehyung looks absolutely gobsmacked, pupils dark as he gazes at you, eyes unabashedly raking your body. He’s shameless.
You both are.
Slowly, you step towards him, fingers reaching out towards his shirt, carefully undoing the buttons as you gaze at each other, expressions unreadable.
"Tae?” You ask innocently, blinking up at him. “Fuck me?"
Your polite request makes Taehyung chuckle.
"Please?" You bring your bottom lip between your teeth, eyes blinking up at him adoringly for good measure. You reach the last button, let his dress shirt drape open. He brushes it off himself, stands there for a few seconds just to let the way you’re ogling his toned chest go to his head. At least he’s good-looking.
He sighs, probably contemplating some clever rebuttal, but eventually decides against it as his cock is already twitching back to life.
"Alright, love. Turn around. On your knees for me," He orders, making your stomach flip.
To your surprise, you are hardly in place when the warmth of his large hands finds the soft of your tummy, pressing you back into his chest as he pressed a peck to the back of your neck.
You squirm in his hold, whining as that same hand of his grabs hold of your breast, long digit rolling your nipple between their tips. You can’t help but press your ass back into him. His cock feels hot and heavy, pressing against the back of your thigh, making your pussy clench in anticipation.
You want him.
You want him so bad that you don't know what to do with yourself, shuddering as his free hand runs along the side of your ass, leaving scorching hot trails on your skin wherever he kneads into your flesh. He's touching you everywhere – everywhere but where you need him the most, and the arousal that drips down your thigh mocks you.
"Dammit, please!" You exclaim, running out of patience.
"Please what?" He says, an eyebrow arched.
You shiver, committing the way his middle finger traced your pelvic bone to memory forever.
You puff out a frustrated breath, nearly at your wit's end. "Please fuck me, Tae."
Taehyung pauses, grip on your breast and hip tightening as he lets out a moan. You let one out yourself as you feel him readjust, cock pressing against your slick entrance.
"Fuck, you sound so pretty when you say my name," He grunts. "Okay, baby. I'll fuck you. Begging so nicely for my cock."
You let out a squeak as you're suddenly pushed down onto your hands, back arching as he pushes his fat cock inside your heavenly cunt. He's thick, so thick, that you instinctively grip the sheet underneath you, fingers curled around them tightly as if it means to hold onto your sanity.
Taehyung lets out a shaky breath, angling your hips up so that you could take more of him.
"You feel—feel so good," he admits above you, and suddenly you wish you could see him. See the way his bangs stick to his damp forehead—see the way his tongue swipes over his bottom lip wickedly.
You let that thought go, however, as he thrust into you, making your jaw fall slack and eyes flutter shut. Profanities roll off your tongue unabashedly, helpless under the way his thick member pulls out of you, only to slam back into you.
You weren't expecting this. The way he stretches you out further than anyone had before. Your pussy clenches around him, reveling in the sweet, sweet burn.
He digs into the flesh of your hips, holding you steady as you mew and cry out, pushing your hips back in time to his, trying your best to meet his movements.
"Tae... fuck, fuck, fuck—"
He was filling you to the brim. Filling you tight and deep.
God, the way he was panting behind you was music to your ears. His cock pulses every time you call out his name, voice muffled and buried as you had your head pressed into the mattress, hair messy and bouncing with every hard thrust.
"S'good! Fuck... so, ah, big..." you cry out.
You feel drunk. Intoxicated off this beautiful man and the way he makes you feel a way only he can.
You nearly let out a sob as the rough pads of Taehyung's fingertips suddenly reach around you and find your neglected clit, rolling light circles on the soft and swollen bundle of nerves skillfully.
You are a mess, whimpering and drooling into your expensive sheets, and he filled every inch of you, leaving no place undiscovered. Your high nears, stewing on low heat somewhere near the pit of your belly, waiting for a chance to erupt and wash all over you. Taehyung must be close to, you realize, as his thrusts began to slow down, slamming into you roughly as if chasing after his high.
"Gonna take this load? Huh? Gonna let me cum inside your pretty little pussy?" His voice is straining, as if trying to breathe evenly but merely moments from falling apart.
If only you could formulate an intelligent response, but instead, you are a blubbering wreck, thighs shaking as they threatened to give out underneath you. But somehow, Taehyung knew. He had you. Quicking his motions against your delicate pearl, he could tell you were close too, and he was going to make sure you got there.
Suddenly, you're crying out and convulsing, tears brimming at the ends of your eyes as you feel Taehyung empty into you, collapsing onto his hands as well.
You feel his hot breath against the back of your neck as he pants, breath growing more and more even as the two of you regain control of your bodies and minds.
Pulling out of you, he plops down beside you, and for a moment, the two of you hold each other's gazes, eyes speaking in ways words never could.
Finally, after what feels both like an eternity and just a moment, you work up the courage to say something, moving closer to him as you place a hand on his chest, cushioning your chin as you rested on top of it.
"Psst," you beckon, voice hushed.
"Yeah?" His voice is husky and tired.
"I’m grateful, too."
"Huh?"
"I’m grateful for us, too."
Taehyung's gaze is soft, and it lingers on you for a second before the sides of his mouth curl up tenderly. He grins down at you, eyes drifting shut. You feel him squeeze you closer, pressing you against his skin. And then, you hear his breathing steady, see his lips part slightly.
You lean into his chest, eyelids fluttering. “Thank you, Tae.”
Not unlike the many other mornings you have awoken in this bed, when you open your eyes as the morning sunlight streams through the windows, Taehyung is nowhere to be found. The sheets on his side of the bed are flipped aside, revealing that soft outline of his body from the night before left imprinted into the sheets, a dip in the mattress where he slept. You had fallen asleep all wrapped up in each other, tangled up like vines, but must have separated sometime during the night. Distantly, you register Taehyung’s voice outside, notice his phone missing from his bedside table. He must be on an early morning call.
You check your phone for the time. Ten o’clock.
A late morning call, then.
Still basking in the afterglow of the night prior, you slowly inch your way out of bed, shivering as you pull the covers off you and scoot your legs around so they hang over the edge of the bed. You rub at your eyes until you faintly remember you did not take your makeup off last night, and when your hand comes away covered with black streaks and flecks of mascara, you wince to yourself. There goes five hundred dollars worth of a skincare routine.
After washing yourself up and applying as many serums as you can to your skin, you wrap yourself up in one of his button-up shirts, the torso so wide that it drapes over you. The tips of your fingers peek out from the ends of the sleeves, and you cross your arms lightly over your chest as you make your way to the door, ready to entice your husband back to bed for round two. What? It’s Saturday.
You peer around the door to find Taehyung standing a few feet away, facing away from you. He’s shirtless, and as his wife you have absolutely no problems ogling him, the toned curves of his back, the muscles in his arms. He’s always been a looker. You just finally have an excuse to look for yourself.
You approach him quietly, not wanting to interrupt nor broadcast your sex life to anybody on the other side who may be listening. Already, the idea of crawling back in bed together sends goosebumps along your skin, makes you giddy with anticipation. You’re just about to tap him on the shoulder, lips curled upwards in suggestion, when he says—
“And my inheritance? That’s secured now, right? Because I said I would pretend to be in love with her in public—?”
And it is as if Medusa herself appeared in this room, turning you to stone as your heart thuds to the floor, a hollow, empty noise.
You don’t hear the rest of Taehyung’s conversation. You don’t even hear the sound of your own heartbeat. This terrible, aching sound rings in your ears, silencing everything in its wake, drowning out even the sighs of your own breath. It is as if you have been frozen solid. As if you have been shot in the stomach. You stand there, feeling absolutely nothing, and all you can do is brace yourself for what is to come. Taehyung’s words were the knife but his next actions will be its removal, leaving in its wake an irreparable wound.
He turns around, casual and cool, voice still hushed. As if you were still asleep. As if you hadn’t heard anything at all. But when he twists his body and sees you standing there, staring back up at him, lips parted in shock.
“I’ll call you back,” he tells whoever was on the other side of the line, looking more panicked by the second. He opens his mouth so he can explain himself, but you don’t need him to. You’ve heard everything already.
“I should have known,” you say, feeling angry and betrayed and sad all at once. “I should have known it was all an act.”
“Y/N, wait, let me explain—”
“What is there to tell me, Taehyung? What are you going to say? That you didn’t mean it? That you thought I wouldn’t find out? That last night was just a one-off?” You demand. The heat from your veins hasn’t left. Still, it simmers through your blood, burning you up from the inside out. “That you didn’t want to lie to me?”
“It’s not like that and you know it,” Taehyung says defensively, brows furrowed. “Just give me a chance to explain myself.”
“Explain yourself? How you pretended, every day and every night, just so you could get some more money in your bank account? So you could make sure you would get your father’s business when he died?”
Taehyung bites back easily. “Don’t act like you weren’t also faking it at some point. I know you were almost removed from your grandmother’s will.”
Your tongue is bitter at the mention of your grandmother. As if Taehyung ever even knew her. “My grandmother has nothing to do with this.”
“Really?” Taehyung challenges. “So you wanting to stay in her will was just a little bonus, right?”
“Don’t,” you say sharply. “It’s different.”
“Different how?” Taehyung spits. “Because right now, to me, it looks pretty similar to what I’ve done.”
“My grandmother died months ago,” you remind him. Her will is no longer the question. It has been written, settled, and executed. There was no reason for you to continue playing along once she took her last breath. No reason—unless you wanted to. “Meanwhile you’ve been keeping your inheritance a secret from me this entire time.”
“We made a deal,” Taehyung says. “A deal that said we would both act happy and pretend to be in love because we both had things we needed to worry about. Family things. Money things. You were a part of this, just like I was. You pretended, too.”
“Well, maybe I stopped pretending!”
You can’t take it anymore. All this anger, all this emptiness, it’s been bubbling up inside you ever since you heard those first words come out of his mouth. It spills out of you all at once, an eruption from your lips, your heart’s doors bursting open. You have held his hand tightly in your own. You have pressed your lips to his. You have laid yourself bare in front of him. What is there left to protect? What part of you has not already been stained by him, by his touch, by the feeling of his fingers against your skin?
The hallway is silent, but you can hear your cry echo down the corridor. Hear the way it bounces along the walls before fading away.
“Maybe I stopped pretending,” you repeat, softer this time. You blink and already can feel the streaks along your skin, the tears falling from your eyes. “Did you ever think about that?”
“Y/N, what are you talking about?” Taehyung looks like he’s in disbelief. Like he cannot believe the words you are saying to him.
Well, that makes two of you.
“Can’t you see, Tae? Can’t you tell?” You ask, the nickname falling from your lips before you can even help it. You must remind yourself to change that, later. “I’m in love with you.”
They are words you have never said to someone before. Not even your old boyfriends. Words that you always knew you would reserve for someone special. Someone who would touch your heart and make it their own, someone who would leave imprints of their fingers against your chest. Someone who would brighten you up from the inside out, leave you bursting with light.
Ironic, that Taehyung has become that someone. When he is the one person you never thought could.
When he has proven, time and time again, that you two just cannot mix. Oil and water. Pastel and acrylic. Satin and silk.
“You don’t have to say anything,” you spit out quickly, before Taehyung has a chance to respond. “I know it doesn’t matter to you.”
“Y/N, yes it does,” Taehyung begins, desperate and pleading. “I know you heard what I said, but I swear, it stopped being an act for me, too. Things are different now, just like you said.”
“Don’t. Please.” You pull away as he reaches out towards you. Faintly, you remember that it is his shirt you are wearing. Remember that no matter what you do, he will always surround you. “Please, Tae.” You have nothing left. You can’t bear to look at him, but where else will you go? You cannot believe the things he’s said, the things he’s done, but where else would you go?
“I love you, too,” Taehyung says, and a part of you wants so badly to believe him.
A part of you wants so badly to ingrain those words into your head, carve them into your heart, let him wrap his arms around you and promise that everything will be alright. But things are different now. Just like you said. You and Taehyung are not the same people you were six months ago. Or six weeks ago. Or even six minutes ago. You are helpless and he has proven that he does not care.
“I have to go,” you say, looking away. You don’t think you could handle turning back to him again. “Please, Tae.”
“I’m sorry,” Taehyung says, and he reaches out once more but you are not there to meet him halfway. Were you ever?
“I know,” you whisper back.
You duck into your bedroom and pack a suitcase of everything you need. Being here is suffocating. Being with him is like setting yourself alight.
Victoria has no questions when you show up at her door later that day, suitcase by your side and this ridiculous bottle of Merlot in your hands. You had picked it up on the way over. You sort of figured you might need it.
“You don’t wanna talk about it, do you?” Victoria asks.
“Tell me about your streaming service,” you hiccup in response.
Victoria is happy to oblige. She even tells you that she still hasn’t picked a CFO, and that the position would be open for you if you ever wished to take it.
Funnily enough, what will become of you once your father retires and passes along the company is the furthest away from your thoughts.
You remember being so worried about that. Being so worried that, once they married you off like every good daughter should be, you would be absorbed into your husband’s life, cut out of your family’s. Your father would choose a cousin, an uncle, or even a friend to take after the business, bestowing upon you a thoughtful inheritance but nothing more than that. All of those years of schooling, finance in college, your MBA soon after, would be wasted, just so you could hang on the arm of your husband for the rest of your life.
It’s thoughtful of Victoria to think of you for the position. She knows just as well as anyone else that you would be an excellent fit. And if things were just a little bit different, you would be jumping at the offer.
But your future career plans are on the backburner, along with the rest of your life.
All you can really do, right now, at this very moment, is wait for things to change. As they always do.
“Don’t you have an event tonight?” Victoria asks about three days into your stay. She’s given you her favorite (her words, not yours) guest bedroom and an enormous closet to match, despite you only coming over with a carry-on’s worth of clothes.
You scoff to yourself. “Like I’d want to go to anything with him.”
“Have you even called your parents?”
“No,” you say, not even caring about the repercussions. There’s no doubt in your mind that they’ll be ringing you soon. And when they do, maybe then you’ll finally work up the courage to tell them what really happened. Tell them that you can’t go back there. Not yet, at least.
“I’m sorry that this happened to you,” Victoria says as she hands you a bowl of vegetable soup, homemade from a couple of days ago. You nod to yourself, sniffling as you curl into the couch cushions and wish they would absorb you whole.
There’s no need to ask her what she means by ‘this’. Everything. From your engagement to the marriage, from those tabloids to the deal, from your grandmother’s death to now. It has all been unfair. Life is unfair. And while you’ve always known that, it has been particularly cruel to you as of late.
Still, when you wake up sometimes, you can still feel him tracing over your skin. Feel his lips hovering over yours, breath fanning out over your cheeks. You turn over and expect to see him lying there, on the right side of the bed, sheets mussed as they cover his figure. You wake up and for a brief moment, for that split, split second, there is peace. And happiness. And love.
And then there is nothing.
“Yeah,” you sigh. “Me, too.”
Maybe he really does love you. Maybe things really did change. But you have always been a pragmatic person, always let your head guide you rather than your heart. The secret’s out. Taehyung had an inheritance he needed to secure. You were his path to doing so. Those things haven’t changed. No matter if his feelings did.
“Hey, look at this,” Victoria says, brows furrowed as she holds out her phone in front of you, revealing a livestreamed interview from the event tonight.
You peer over.
It’s Taehyung.
Of course it’s Taehyung. Who else would she be showing you?
He stands in a clean-cut gray coat, draping over his figure, black dress shirt and slacks underneath, belt wrapped neatly around his hips. He holds his hand up in a wave and smiles politely to the cameras, to the reporters, letting the flashes wash over him like waves in the ocean.
“Mr. Kim! Mr. Kim!” Someone calls. “Where’s your wife?”
Oh, God.
Taehyung grimaces a little, pursing his lips. “My wife won’t be joining me tonight.”
“Can you tell us why?” They shout.
“Sorry, no more questions. Thank you for asking though. She’s well,” he says, quickly ushering himself along, entering the venue so no more reporters can bombard him. When he disappears, the livestream immediately moves on to the next guest, but you hardly pay them any attention.
“Huh,” Victoria says aloud.
Indeed. Taehyung’s response strikes you as rather odd. Why would he tell the public that? Why not make up a lie, say you’re sick, or you’re overseas, or you’re just late? Why simply tell them that you won’t be there? Surely, Taehyung is just as aware of the consequences of arriving at an event without you as you are. There’s no doubt that his parents will be in contact with him soon, too. No doubt that this will leave a stain on his family. His image. It might even threaten his inheritance after all.
So why not lie?
You frown to yourself, nose scrunching up in confusion. You don’t like where this train of thought leads.
“You okay?” Victoria asks when she sees the bewildered expression on your face.
“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine,” you say. Just completely befuddled. It escapes you, why Taehyung wouldn’t just make up some sort of excuse as to reasoning behind your absence. Why he would even show up at the event at all. Certainly, going to the event without you is worse than not going at all. It prompts questions. It spreads rumors.
Later that night, you get a call from your parents, demanding to know why you weren’t there with him. You say you got sick. You plead with them not to question anything.
You wonder what happens next. You and Taehyung still have two more events this week. A dinner and a ball. What will you do then?
Taehyung goes solo for the dinner. You suppose you could have predicted that, considering his apparent willingness to arrive alone for the first event, too. He hasn’t made any efforts to contact you and for once, you’re glad for his silence. Not that you even know what he would say to you, anyway, but at least he isn’t begging you to come back to him.
The sad truth is that if he did, if he got down on his knees right in front of you and willed you to come back home, you probably would. He has always been impossible to resist. Even when you first met him, when he sauntered up towards you and told you he was your dream come true. You didn’t know it then. But he was. He was everything you would ever want.
Why would he lie?
Why would he do that?
You can’t wrap your head around it. What is he getting out of it by telling the truth? By admitting to the paparazzi, to the reporters and the cameramen, that you won’t be there with him. That you will not be joining him. Nothing, certainly. His parents must be furious. His inheritance may be on the rocks. His image might tank.
So then, why do it at all?
Could it… could it be?
Is it true?
You have loved Taehyung for a long time. Longer than you probably even care to admit. You have always held your head high at events, spoken loudly and without fear, but being with him made you feel safe. Secure. You would hold his hand and know, know that he was holding yours, too. It grounded you. It soothed your worries.
Does he really love you back?
Taehyung smiles politely and laughs when he needs to at these events, but he doesn’t look the same. Even through the screen you can see those bags under his eyes, that spark that has faded. You hardly recognize him. He looks so lonely, without someone by his side. So distant.
When you know the dinner has ended, you almost pick up the phone and call him.
Almost.
Instead, when the ball rolls around, you ask Victoria if she’s got a spare dress she can lend you.
Kim Taehyung, for someone you have seen covered in paint splotches, wearing old college hoodies, and fresh out of a restless night’s sleep, cleans up pretty well. For a married man, at least.
You wonder what the past few days must have been like for him. If they have been as empty as your own. Wonder what it was like, riding alone in a big black van to this hotel ballroom, no one to tease, no one to laugh with, no one to hold. No one to poke him awake if he accidentally fell asleep. No one to make sure he’s okay.
Taehyung stands right outside of the entrance, waving politely to all of the paparazzi, smiling as the cameras flash, giving them the time of day for a moment before he heads inside and muscles his way through another event without you.
Or so he thinks.
You spot him just as he opens his mouth, ready to repeat those same lines all over again.
My wife won’t be joining me tonight. She’s well, though.
And maybe it’s just because you haven’t seen him in nearly a week. Maybe it’s just because he is about to lie to those reporters once more, ready to face whatever consequences come his way.
Or maybe it’s just because you miss him. Miss him terribly, have been missing him terribly. Being away from him was necessary, but that didn’t make it any less unbearable. Not getting to hold his hand, see his smile, meet his eyes. You and Taehyung may not have always liked each other, but you saw him every day regardless. He became a constant in your life. Not an if, but a when. If everything went to shit, you always knew he would still be there.
And there he is.
“Wait! Taehyung!”
Taehyung’s eyes widen as he hears your voice, gaze darting around wildly, mouth parted in surprise. He looks around desperately, scanning the crowd, meeting the eyes of every single person in front of him until he finally looks to the left, sees you rushing up towards him, hiking up the skirt of your dress as your heels tap against the sidewalk.
And when he spots you, sees you running up to him, his body relaxes, a weight lifted from his shoulders as he beams back at you, relieved and thankful and filled with joy, all at once. And you know, then.
You know that everything will be okay.
“Sorry I’m late,” you say sheepishly, cheeks burning as he looks at you, takes in every inch of you, breathes you in and lets you fill him up.
Taehyung doesn’t respond. You reach out to hold his hand but he grabs your wrist and pulls you in, presses you against his body as he presses his hands against your cheeks, palms burning as they meet your skin, and he kisses you. In front of all these people, he kisses you.
And goddamnit, you will kiss him back.
It feels like lightning, like a thunderstorm, like the waves of the ocean are crashing against your heart. It feels like fire, like flames are licking at your veins, sending sparks through your blood. It feels like home.
You and Taehyung ignore the shouts of reporters, the flashes of cameras, the honks of the cars on the other side of the road. When you part, he presses his forehead against yours and lets the tip of your nose meet his. And you smile.
“Don’t be alone any longer, Mr. Kim,” you whisper, loud enough so only he can hear.
“When I’m with you, I never am, Mrs. Kim,” he murmurs back.
You wonder what those tabloids will be saying about you tomorrow.
The rest of the night finds the two of you pretty much inseparable. You wrap yourself around his arm and for the first time in a long time, he presses his hand against the small of your back, keeping you close. Like he’d ever lose you again.
One of your least favorite parts about attending balls used to be the dancing. As a young and eligible bachelorette, you would always have to lock hands with another, let him awkwardly guide you along to the music as you made the worst small talk imaginable, forcing laughter and smiles whenever he said something he thought was particularly funny.
But, like so many others, things have changed. Things are different now.
The waltz comes on and you and Taehyung are the first to reach the center of the ballroom floor, letting him rest his hand on your waist as you press yours on top of his shoulder. Let him twirl you around the room as the orchestra plays in the background, a soft, sweet, light little melody that carries you along.
“I missed this,” you say softly.
“I missed us,” Taehyung corrects. He pauses for a moment, swallowing hard. “I’m sorry for not telling you about my inheritance.”
“I’m sorry for storming out. I should have listened to you.” you respond easily. You both have plenty to apologize for. But night is darkest right before dawn.
“I should have said something,” Taehyung says with a shake of his head. “But I was just so—so worried that something would go wrong. And I didn’t know how to explain how I felt about you. I acted in the beginning, too, but then things changed.”
“They always do,” you muse with a grin.
“I couldn’t believe I had you,” Taehyung admits. “I mean, look at you. You’re gorgeous. And funny. And true.”
“Go on,” you tease, even though you do nothing to hide the smile inching its way across your face, the heating of your cheeks, the simmering of your skin.
“Oh, shut up. You know what I mean.” Taehyung rolls his eyes. “I just—I felt something for you I couldn’t explain. I still can’t.”
You don’t have to prod any further. You know. Deep within your heart, you know. There is love blossoming in his to match the garden that has bloomed in your own. The flowers that have sprouted in the ashes. He has them, too. And when those petals open and the light streams in, he will know. He will know, too.
“You make me crazy,” you tell him, whispering gently into his skin. “But I’m a better person when I’m with you. I know I am.”
“I meant what I said, that night,” Taehyung says. Makes you wonder which night he’s actually talking about. “That I’m happy that things have changed. That things happened the way they did. I’m grateful for us.”
“I am, too,” you say. And you are.
You rest your head against his chest as you dance together, swaying back and forth to the beat of the drums, to the strums of the violins, all wrapped up together like ivy, like vines. Those, too, sit in that garden of yours. Keep you tethered to his side, keep him close to yours. He holds you in his arms and he smiles, because he knows, too. Knows that that garden in your heart will soon have a matching one in his. A mirror image of who you are. Who you’ve become.
Things change. They always will. But so long as he is by your side, and so long as you are by his, you know. Everything will be okay.
It's different, this time, when Taehyung presses you into the mattress.
There is no rush. Because now you know for certain that all the time in the world is yours. He is yours forever. You are his.
The two of you are a mixture of tangled limbs and shared breaths, the feverish, irrepressible need to give yourself to each other nearly tangible. He breaks the kiss suddenly, and you’re about to break out in protest. That is, until you see him unbuttoning his shirt.
Inspired, you wiggle out of your own clothes, eyes locked on Taehyung's soft torso and the idea that you had married such a beautiful man, inside and out.
Looking back, you wonder if that was always inevitable. If you and Taehyung falling into each other had been written in the stars from day one, sealed as your fate from the moment he came up to you at that ball when you were teenagers. He was going to be a part of your life no matter what. Whether or not you ended up marrying him. But having him like this?
It makes it all worth it.
"Do you like what you see?" That old cocky smirk of his makes an appearance.
You raise a brow, choosing to omit a response as you unclasp your bra, letting it fall from your chest.
Taehyung swallows.
"Do you?" You tease.
His response comes in the form of bites down your necks and licks down your chest, stealing your breath from you.
Your clothes are somewhere dispelled beside your passionate bodies, growing cold beside the way your two hot bodies warmed one another.
"You are so beautiful," Taehyung praises, fingers coming up to cup your breast, bringing it up to his mouth.
You mewl, wrapping an arm around his shoulders as his tongue toys with your pert bud, teeth grazing it ever so often just to hear the broken gasp that'd always follow.
"And so sensitive too," he giggles, making you pout. His hands are gentle as if every touch means something. As if you mean something—no, everything—to him. And the most wonderful part is that he means everything to you, too.
"Shut up." You roll your eyes playfully, gasping as his palm comes down the side of your thigh suddenly in warning. You bite down your swollen bottom lip at the gush of arousal that dampened your underwear in response.
"Watch your tone, love. Of both our positions, you are in the most compromising one." He reminds you. It isn't a threat, and while usually, that kind of tone would thrill you, you couldn't help but want his mouth back on yours already.
"You talk too much." You flop back onto the bed with a sigh. Taehyung watches with interest as your pretty tits bounce in consequence. Extending your hands out towards him, you give him a pouty look. "Just wanna kiss you."
"Is that all I am to you? Just a pair of lips for you to mack on? I've got news for you, sweetheart, there's a brain behind these ravishing good looks." He scoffs in feigned offense, sitting back on his heels.
You giggle.
It seems as though even during the most intimate of moments, Taehyung still found a way to be, well, Taehyung. At least that hasn’t changed.
"Whatever, pretty boy. Why don't you come over here and put that mouth of yours to good use?" You purr, making his eyebrows raise in surprise.
"Oh? I don't remember you being this assertive when I was pounding you into the mattress last time."
“What, I can’t have a little fun as well?” You tease, grinning as you look up at him, raking your eyes over his figure.
"Wanna have fun, love?," He murmurs into your ears, hands gripping either of your plush thighs. "Then spread those pretty legs for me, and I'll show you exactly how much fun you can have."
God, you love this man.
You oblige eagerly, breath quickening as he helped you press your knees by your chest, leaving the wet patch in your underwear on full display.
"My pretty little wife." He sighs dreamily, making heat rush to your core.
Taehyung's cock stood loud and proud, a hot reminder of where the night would eventually lead to. Seriously, how did you get so lucky? You must've been a saint in a previous life, you decide right then. Or at least, the stars have chosen to be rather kind to you in this one.
"Gonna take these off," he mutters, mostly to himself, tugging the ruined fabric over your ass and down your legs, with your help, of course.
Despite your usual display of confidence, lying beneath your husband, spread out like this, has you feeling vulnerable and slightly insecure. But that insecurity vanishes, however, as he lets out a soft moan, fingers moving to spread your glossed lips apart.
"So fucking pretty, baby. Gonna make you feel so fucking good," he groans, leaning down to press his face near your most intimate part.
Pressing a tentatively lick against, his eyes flicker up to yourself, curious to see if you’re okay with him proceeding. And, well, it’s not like you’re going to say no, are you?
Embarrassingly, you rut against him, making him laugh as you drown in your own mortification.
"Need it that bad, huh?" He coos.
"Yes, please."
The rest of your plea is lost in a moan as Taehyung finds your clit, wrapping his pink lips around the sensitive muscle and giving it a generous suck. Your hands are in his hair before you can think to stop yourself, tugging at his scalp deliciously as his mouth makes its way with you.
Thank goodness for this apartment belonging to just the two of you as the noises that tumbled from your lips surely would've left a roommate blushing.
You're panting, begging for more even though you aren't sure how you'd even handle more. It comes as a delight and slight surprise as fingers suddenly slip inside, wasting no time to rub against your velvety smooth walls, curling themselves inside you.
"Fuck, Tae!" you cry out, eyes squeezing shut.
It was pure reflex. Up until now, you had been watching Taehyung intently, completely consumed by the way his mouth moves against you. How his tongue flicks against your needy clit cruelly. It just felt too fucking good.
You're so wet, positively dripping down his chin as he runs his hot muscle up and down the length of your pussy, devouring you like he hadn't eaten in months, and you were his first meal.
Taehyung’s nothing short of addicting, completely and utterly intoxicating, and you slip further and further to your demise with every lick he takes, every press of his tongue against your clit.
He has a hand pressed against the lower half of your torso, feeling the way you jerk and squirm as he makes a mess of you. You’re close and you know it, too, if not by the way you’re calling his name over and over again, then by the way your thighs tremble, hardly even strong enough to stay up.
"Let go for me, love. I've got you." He sounds so sweet, so angelic, despite how filthy what he was doing to you was.
His words are the push you need, and, like a rubber band that has been stretched past its limit, you finally snap, back arching off the bed as you come with a cry. White fills your vision, and your mind goes blank, only sounds of blissful static filling your ears.
His fingers hold up your quivering legs, mouth pressing kisses onto your pussy encouragingly until you simply can't bear it any longer, pushing his mouth away as you stutter out words of sensitivity and overstimulation.
“I’m going to have to request more of that throughout this marriage.” You manage to say once your vision and breath come back to you.
Grabbing one of your hands, Taehyung brings it to his mouth.
“All you need do is ask,” he replies, making you laugh as he presses a kiss to the back of your hand, always a gentleman
Not long after, you find yourself pressed against Taehyung, tongue running against his as he presses his hips into yours. He isn’t coy about his want for you, rolling his cock against your already sensitive center. Warm precum leaks onto your lower abdomen, and suddenly, all you can think about is having him inside you again.
“Taehyung?”
You don’t even need to ask. Hitching your leg around his thigh, he knows exactly what you’re seeking, lining up his leaking cock with your swollen entrance.
Pressing into you, he buries himself to the hilt, groaning out as your warmth envelopes him. You moan out so prettily for him, feeling tight and full with your first orgasm only minutes ago.
“You okay?” he hums, kissing your cheek.
You nod, ears warm at the intimacy of the moment. In many ways, this is nothing like your first time together. You are face to face, eye to eye, heart to heart. Between your bodies could be found more than just desire, but commitment. Devotion. Love.
“I love you, Tae.” You gush, sighing out as he begins to rock into you.
He falters slightly at your confession but recovers quickly, intertwining his hand with yours and pressing it by your head.
Faintly, you realize.
That was the first time you had ever told him that.
You look up at him, expecting some wide eyes or even a bit of a nervous tilt to his lips, but all you are met with is a glow. He beams down at you, and your heart swells.
“I love you, too, Y/N,” he whispers, but you hear the words in your ears loud and clear.
Soft noises fill the room as the two of you become one—hearts synchronizing with one another in silent promise.
It was a promise unlike the one you had made to each other that day at the altar, for this one was real. This one was true.
You shutter with every thrust of his hips, your abused clit finding itself in the crossfire of Taehyung’s passionate motions.
Whimpering, you cling to him, overwhelmed and emotional, like your heart was about to burst. Taehyung lights a fire in you, sends lightning straight through your core. Every word, every smile, every kiss, every touch, they send shivers down your spine, tingles throughout your skin. It’s like you’re falling in love with him all over whenever you see him, whenever his deep brown eyes meet your own.
You remember being so afraid of love that you broke up with all your old boyfriends because of it. Because you couldn’t commit, because you were worried about your career, because they just didn’t give you that spark. But lying here pressed against him, against your husband, you aren’t afraid. Wrapped up around him, tangled up in him, you know.
Between messy kisses and words of adoration, you find yourself growing closer and closer to your release. Brows furrowed and neck flushed, you come with a soft whimper of his name, coaxing his own orgasm out of him. He lets go inside you, painting you with his seed in a way that pleases you to no end.
Hand still in yours, he gives it a squeeze, pressing a kiss onto your damp chest, right over where your heart beats for him.
“I love you,” Taehyung says again when you meet his eyes, firmer this time, louder. Like he’s worried you didn’t believe him the first time.
“I know,” you say with a giggle, the words going straight to your head—and your heart.
Taehyung scowls. “What, no ‘I love you’ back? Is that what I’m hearing?”
“Well, only because you want one so badly,” you tease, pressing a quick kiss to his round button nose. “I love you, too, Tae. Always will.”
“I think I knew, then,” Taehyung says with a fond sigh, nostalgia overcoming his expression. “That first time we met. I knew you would be mine, one day.”
“You got lucky,” you scoff slightly. “But I’m glad things happened the way they did.”
“You’re my dream come true, Y/N,” he says.
“And you are mine,” you murmur.
As the two of you drift off, all twisted up in each other, so mixed up you can’t figure out where you end and he begins, you think back to that night. That ball.
“Who are you?” You ask, nose scrunched up in distaste. Before you stood a boy you had never met before, wearing shoes that were too big for him and a suit that was a touch too small.
He grins at you, running a hand through his perfectly-styled hair fringe swiped neatly over his forehead, and he says, “your dream come true.”
And so it was.
don’t forget to message me! ~ and don’t forget to message rose!
#taehyung smut#v smut#bts smut#taehyung fluff#taehyung angst#bts fluff#bts angst#bts scenario#v fluff#v angst#v scenario#taehyung scenario#bts imagine#taehyung imagine#v imagine#bts au#taehyung au#w: love me or we both go down#ITS FINALLY DONE YOU GUYS HOLY SHIT#this fic honestly has plagued my thoughts and my dreams#since AUGUST
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AoT Boys - Preferences
This is something... I have nothing else to say about it lol
Also it may be a bit all over the place idk
Fandom: Attack on Titan
Characters: Reiner Braun, Armin Arlert, Eren Yeager & Jean Kirstein
Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI, Fem! Bodied Reader, Mentions of sex, Swearing, lot of boob, ass, & thigh talk, also switches b/w saying s/o and you I'm a mess :)
Enjoy ~
Reiner
Reiner is a simple man that loves dem tiddies!
Big or little doesn't matter
Man has giant hands and if it fits it ships
“You fit so perfectly in my hands.”
Loves to lay on your chest - #LittleSpoonReiner
When he had a particularly rough day all he wants to do is nizzle into your chest and breathe in your scent
Likes to massage them over your clothes when y’all make out
Can’t keep his mouth off of them, licking and biting them as he also plays with your nipples
He may give them a few smacks here and there if that's the mood 😉
Honestly would so happy to just play with your chest and nothing else, especially if you really like it
Likes when his s/o rides him - not only cuz it gives them more control of the pacing but also bc he gets a full view of their breasts
If you want to make this man nearly combust send him a saucy pic while he’s out/at work and can’t get to you
Man is weak for some lacy lingerie - really likes pastels and white (to him if makes it almost feel naughtier cuz of how sweet it looks)
“I was thinking of wearing this to our date tonight, do you like it? 😇” - w/ a mirror pic of you in a matching lacy set, wearing one of his large button up shirts and make sure you put your hand on your cheek sweetly, pressing your breasts together
He would call you so fast!
“Sweetheart, I am at work! Please-”
“And change of plans, instead of going out Imma need you to be on that bed when I get home tonight because we will not be leaving that room till you’re completely fucked out.”
Really likes clothed sex - why would he just rip of that pretty lingerie you put on for him when he can continue to enjoy it on your beautiful body while he rails you?!
He just overall enjoys seeing and feeling your chest and bonus points for it also feeling good for you though he doesn’t really touch them w/o your permission/ when y’all are getting it on
However, in his sleep his hand can become a bit of a wanderer
So he is a perv but not so outwardly so
Really likes lacy or mesh shirts where can see your bra/bralette - though sometimes it can make him feel some type of way
“Beautiful, I always love what you wear but you gotta stop doing this to me, my heart can’t take it.”
Man just melts for you! ok?!
Armin
Armin is a Thigh Man! and I will die on this hill!!!
He loves to hold and squeeze them - in both sexual & non-sexual situations
Laying on them is prime time for him, he may even leave a few sleepy kisses behind before falling asleep on them
Also Thigh fucking is his jam!! And you can’t convince me otherwise
Not only does he love the feeling of your thighs jerking him off but also it’s about that teasing he loves to give his s/o
May even taunt them about it
“You like feeling my cock slide between your thighs?”
“My Angel wishes they had my cock inside them, huh.”
He also just generally loves kissing, licking and biting your thighs, he likes to take his time especially when he is about to go down on you
He likes to have his hand on his s/o’s thigh while sitting next to them, whether at home or out for lunch with friends - not necessarily in a sexual way well… unless you want him to 😉
Want to make him excited? Wear some thigh high stockings
If you are wearing a skirt and at some point in the day you lift the hem to show the garter strap holding up your stocking he’ll let out a little low hum of approval and needs to get his hands on you soon
That also goes for if you want to send him a little pic in the day to show you miss him just a little
“Thinking of you bb 🥰” - w/ a picture of your skirt raised or just in a pair of cute panties while sat on your knees with your thighs pressed together would do the trick
He would blush a little at the initial shock -especially if around others- but would be quick to excuse himself before responding
“You’re so beautiful, when I get home I’m gonna spread those pretty thighs open and have you screaming for me.”
Boy really likes not only shear tights but also fishnets
Whether you wear them under a skirt/dress or under distressed jeans and it peeks through holes and over the top he’s in for it
Has 10000% had sex with a pair of fishnets on - the ones with the extra large holes that he can fit his dick through - yes ma’am
Also just plain old ripping them open so make sure you don’t spend a lot of money of your tights cuz they might not last too long oop
Eren
Also a Boobie Man!
Whether he is just chillin on the couch watching t.v. with his s/o or making out and getting down to business, his hand somehow always finds its way to a boob
He will just put his arm around your shoulder and snake his hand down the collar of your shirt and just cup it - maybe will begin to give a few squeezes here and there mf treating it like a stress ball smh
Will motor boat you - he doesn’t care if there isn't much to your chest either cuz he will go for it anyway
If he is having sex in missionary best believe both his palms would be kneaded his s/o’s breasts
Or if from behind he will lean over and wrap his arm around their front to hold them
But lets need not forget the tiddie bounce when his s/o rides him
So many choices baby boy doesn’t know which one he likes best 🤔
Loves some tiddie-fucking
And cumming on dem boobies as well
“You look so good with my cum drippin down your tits.”
This bitch will be at work and ask for nudes smh
Of course he wants boobie pics - loves when you are topless and holding your breasts with your hands or simply just your cleavage down your shirt
“You’re always so good to me Babygirl. I’ll see you when I get home 😉”
Likes when you wear revealing tops
Of course he’ll about throw hands if someone's gaze stays a bit too long but he is proud of his baby and knows they are beautiful
Eren, unlike Reiner, is more outwardly pervy
Always encourages you not to wear a bra
“Your nipples are so cute, why wouldn’t you want to show them.”
Also you know he aint afraid to stare and when you catch him he’ll just give you a wink and a cocky smirk
Jean
Bonafide Booty Man!
Like Reiner, the size doesn’t matter!
Big or little - if he can grab he can vibe with it
This boy always has his hand on the butt any chance he gets
Cuddle Time? His hand will rubb and hold the booty
When y’all are making out? You best believe he’ll pull you real close and squeeze your ass
So safe to say that taking his s/o from behind is great booty access
Also reverse Cowgirl is a nice view as well
“Fuck, I love seeing your ass bounce on my cock.”
Loves to squeeze, jiggle and spank your butt
Also kissing and biting the cheeks are a yes in his book
Likes to bend over his s/o and go down on them from behind, having is tongue covered in their taste as his hands grope and smack their ass - sign him up
Likes days in at home with you, especially if you opt out of wearing pants - Pants are always optional in his household 😉
If he sees cheeks he’s a happy man
Expect to get little booty love taps &/or pinches while around him - mostly when it’s just you two at home
If you want to fluster him a bit give his ass a little smack/squeeze of your own
Likes when you send him pics but when he’s at work? He’ll have to breathe for a minute and leave the room if others are around
“Baby, should I get these?” - w/ a pic in a dressing room wearing a silky “pajama” short set that leaves little to the imagination; booty on full display of course
“Yes! 😍😍😍”
“My sweet girl, I want to see you in that when I get home.”
Big fan of leggings and high waisted pants on his s/o - all about extenuating that booty
Just tight pants in general tbh
If you ever come out in a little number and the booty is poppin he’ll grab your hand and make you do a little spin for him to get a full 360 view
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Hope you liked that!
Want more? Let me know.
My requests are open for both regular and Kinktober - Make sure you read my guidelines :3
💛 ~
#aot#attack on titan#attack on titan smut#snk x reader#aot reiner#snk reiner#reiner braun#reiner braun x reader#aot reiner x reader#reiner x reader#reiner braun smut#aot armin#snk armin#armin arlert#aot armin x reader#armin x reader#armin arlert smut#aot eren#snk eren#eren yeager#eren yeager x reader#eren yeager smut#aot jean#snk jean#jean kirstein#jean kirschtein x reader#jean kirstein smut
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I’m seeing a whole lot of bad takes and ignorance of past/present content and lack of critical thinking or ability to understand character motives regarding this most recent Dream SMP lore. So please, allow me to lay down some facts, some sense, and also some speculation of my own. This’ll be really rambly, because I’m tired, and I want to say a lot. Rewatching ALL the streaming perspectives now, my thoughts start here:
Considering Sam doesn’t want to enter the cell to dirty his hands himself, he clearly has some aversion or moral qualms about torturing prisoners, but Quackity has convinced him to go along with it. Quackity spends a lot of time before he goes into the cell repeatedly making sure Sam won’t have a change of heart and intervene, which indicates Sam probably has some misgivings. Quackity feels he has to remind Sam that this is for the greater good and to stand back and let him do his thing and that this will probably be the last time. These are all reassurances and instructions that would not be necessary if Sam were known to be totally cool with it all already.
Sam believes the stringent measures Dream put in place for the prison are just desserts for him to suffer, but Techno doesn’t deserve the same cruelty, because Techno didn’t enact those rules. And that’s why Techno gets baked potatoes from Sam, and Dream doesn’t. Sam clearly believes this harsh treatment is justified, because Dream was going to do it to someone else. He thinks he’s being just. Of course, allowing the torture, though not his idea and not really comfortable to him, was still crossing a line, considering physical torture was not something Dream did to his victims (and besides, there’s the argument that not everything a criminal has done is morally correct to be done to the prisoner regardless). That, he was convinced, was for the greater good, to get the revive book. Quackity manipulated him; he thinks he’s doing what’s best, but no, of course that doesn’t make him right or his hands clean.
Sam wanted the dog dead because it’s a security risk, especially with Quackity entering the cell with two other people. He killed it later for the exact same reason. Y’all act like nobody else has ever killed an animal in Minecraft RP; get it together. Is Sapnap also evil? Tommy? He killed his own cat. Random animals are not treated with the gravity you guys are giving them; it makes no sense to call out this one time.
When Techno raised the point that he would be fine if Quackity killed him, because Dream could just bring him back, Dream countered with his warning that Techno doesn’t want to experience death, judging by how messed up it made Tommy. What motive would he have to argue that, aside from actually caring about Techno’s well-being? If Dream was only thinking of himself, he would benefit from Techno being willing to die and be brought back to life by him, giving him an easy reason not to give the resurrection knowledge to Quackity. I honestly can’t think of a reason he would argue other than the fact that he doesn’t want Techno to die even temporarily or experience death--that he cares. Interesting...
Dream hiding in the escape tunnel to make it look like he disappeared too was 5,000 IQ, but he didn’t do it just to be silly or smart. Quackity literally threatened to kill Dream when he came back. Dream HAD to pretend to disappear, because he was legitimately in fear for his life. You saw how terrified he was when Sam found him, how he just immediately begged him not to tell Quackity. He was afraid Quackity would come back and kill him before Techno managed to come back and break him out. He believed that would be his fate and had to make a last ditch attempt to avoid that outcome.
Phil confirmed on stream that the blueprints Techno was led to via coordinates are for the prison. Not Tubbo’s missing nuke, like I’ve seen speculated.
“Steve is your polar bear” was written on stream during the “Prison Podcast” Technoblade lore. This is not a mystery. Dream said he wrote it down when Techno started talking about Steve rescuing them.
If Sam doesn’t approve of Quackity killing Dream, why doesn’t he just tell Quackity Dream is still in the prison but not allow Quackity in anymore? Quackity needs Sam to lead him inside, to let him in. Since when did he have any power against Sam to force him to let him in? I don’t understand why Sam has to keep it a secret just to keep Dream alive. Just don’t let Quackity into the prison anymore. Clearly it was a bad idea, since all these security risks happened while Quackity was getting a free pass to not follow the rules of the prison.
Dream casually walking in the way of Sam’s pickaxe to disrupt his swing once Sam almost had the bell broken gets me every time.
The rapport between c!Dream and c!Sam in prison fascinates me. Clearly Dream is much bolder with Sam than Quackity and still seems to trust his sense of duty to a degree. Sam is also more malleable, convinceable, his fatal flaw being actually listening and talking to Dream, even after it clearly messes with him psychologically. He let Quackity manipulate him, too, and he compromises too much. That might seem weird to say, considering the harsh conditions he has Dream in, but. He does give in to a few things.
I’m wondering if Dream wanted to go to the courtyard hoping it was less secure and easier for Techno to break him out of.
Sam has no reason to lie and gaslight about Dream being the one to suggest raw potatoes and sealing up the courtyard. That’s not in his character to do. So clearly Dream suggested these things. In fact, we have proof. Search for the clip of Dream revealing a teaser for future lore, with him telling Sam the hole in the courtyard ceiling for the light is a security flaw. He straight up says that. Update yourselves. Furthermore, are the recordings we have of Dream suggesting nicer features for the prison even lore? Are they in-character, or was it cc!Dream and Sam making plans? I’m genuinely asking, because I don’t remember/am not sure. In any case, clearly the plans changed at some point, and they were Dream’s idea.
Dream said he didn’t realize how bad it was until after he experienced it. This could very well be a lie. However, it could also be a wake-up call. We just don’t know. Dream clearly possesses low empathy, and every person at some point doesn’t fully realize how poorly another being can feel in a bad situation. Sometimes it actually does take experiencing it yourself to realize how it feels. People can do cruel things to others before the empathy fully clicks. It is possible that Dream really does only now understand how harsh his plans were. Unfortunately, it’s just as likely he doesn’t care and is pretending to, because he has a history of acting, lying, and manipulating. We just do not know, and I think that’s part of the fun, the speculation. Note that none of this is excusing what he’s done; that bores me. I just like understanding characters and their psychology and motives.
Sam is ASKING if Dream had this prison built for Tommy. He is suspicious that that is the case. Dream did not TELL him this, because OBVIOUSLY Sam would have absolutely nothing to do with building a prison he knew Dream meant for Tommy. So no, Sam thought it was for something else. And guess what? It was. Back during the disc war finale stream, Dream told Tommy and Tubbo that the prison was originally intended for someone else (maybe multiple people, the number was not specified), but that he changed his mind and would now put Tommy in it (ha ha punny). Tubbo asked who it was originally intended for, and Dream wouldn’t tell him, preferred to keep it a mystery. Dream had zero reason to say this if it weren’t true. In fact, it would have been more impactful to pretend (or admit) he intended it for Tommy all along. Think of the horror, or even the betrayal finding out Sam, his friend, helped make it. So yes, there is every indication that it is the truth--Dream meant the prison for someone else at first.
And Dream didn’t argue with Sam’s accusations, because why WOULD he? If he didn’t tell Tubbo who it was for, he wouldn’t tell Sam now. Plus, he wouldn’t want to argue with Sam, make him more heated and less sympathetic, and risk him deciding to tell Quackity Dream was there after all. Dream has no reason to speak up. Let Sam think what he wants. Dream’s silence does not mean confirmation. This is not a new thing with him. He keeps things mysterious, and there is a lot about his planning and mindset he does not disclose.
Now, whether Dream made the prison harsher before or after he decided he wanted Tommy in it is up for speculation. We don’t know that timeline.
Anyway, Sam’s speech about Dream getting what he deserves is really delicious. All these people out here mocking Dream fans for Dream still being in prison (like Techno’s not imminently coming to break him out, hello?) and being told off by Sam, yet plenty of us are enjoying it, too, like?? Bruh, what kind of Mary-Sue-touting asshole likes characters who are flawless who never go through strife? Can’t be me. I love watching my favs through triumph AND despair, so this is all just a win for me, thanks.
It is possible to sympathize with a bastard who is highly flawed and wrong AND to understand his motivations without justifying his actions AND to realize he deserves punishment (though to what degree I don’t care to argue). All the black and white morality and taking one extreme stance of “this character is perfect!” OR “this character is wholly evil and only ever does things to be sadistic!” and polarizing the community is cringe, yo. You need to calm down. Enjoy the ride or like...get off?
Anyway, Dream is my favorite, Techno is my second favorite, I adore Sam, I really enjoy Quackity, and the SMP wouldn’t be the same without Tommy. So much love for all of this creative work and its creators. I’m having a blast.
#Dream SMP#DSMP#Dream#DreamWasTaken#Technoblade#Awesamdude#Quackity#TommyInnit#Tommy Innit#fandom discourse#Dream SMP lore#Dream SMP theories
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HEY HEY HEY BESTIE HOW ARE YA THIS FINE EVENING/MORNING/AFTERNOON OR IDK
Soo may I request some headcannons on how would it be being in a polyamorous relationship with Hange and Levi cause DAMN they are fine😩😩(plz rail me already)
ANYWAYS BESTIE HOPE YOU HAVE AN AMAZING DAY!!❤❤
OFC YOU CAN MY LOVE🥺💖!!
You’re the main character in the relationship here you get kisses before going to sleep from both of them
You get called a “brat” “baby” or “sweetheart” by Levi
“Angel” or “beautiful” by hange
They both treat you amazing they make you feel special everytime you’re around them
They don’t fight at all although Levi can say no to something’s and hange does it anyways and he gets annoyed and you just giggle everytime it happens
They will protect you with ALL COSTS, they both is ready to die for you no matter what
If they find you crying, trust me whoever hurt you won’t get away, the person either get extra chores/duties for months or they have a horrible death🙃
Hange is the crazy one in the relationship (we all know that) Levi is the soft one and you’re the (insert how you act here)
Hange is ready to do everything you says cause 1. She loves you so FUCKING MUCH 2. She’s as crazy 3. She would do anything you’re down to try
Levi is like the overprotective one in the relationship (we all know that) he wants you safe and never would allowed such childish/unnecessary things
You make them flower headbands and hange kisses your face over and over again saying how sweet you are while Levi doesn’t want to wear it
It’s not that he hate it...he just doesn’t wanna wear it (mostly because he’s humanity’s strongest soldier and wouldn’t want other people to see him as a soft guy:)
Hange cusses him saying that he’s ungrateful and disrespectful for not wearing you’re gift while you’re behind her nodding your head at everything she’s saying
He eventually wears it cause “he wants hange to shut up” (trust me he loves it;)
You made this thing where you guys would just cuddle in y’all bedroom and watch a movie while eating snacks on Sundays
No matter what it is y’all HAVE TO HAVE A LAZY SUNDAY, EVERY WORK HAS TO STOP (*cough* *cough* levi)
Y’all be dragging him out of his office to get him out of his paperwork
You always pretend to cry if he doesn’t come and he always give in
Hange let’s you do her hair however you want as she lays her head on your breast while watching tv together
You and hange makes food together for Levi before he comes home since he’s been gone fo a while
When he comes back y’all both run up to him and kiss him while he’s like “ok ok that’s enough ya damn brats”
Levi is always busy most of the time so you hang out with hange more during the days
Hange is CRAZY fun
She’ll let you on everything she’s experienced/learned for the past few weeks
She was explaining what path they would take to kill the Titans and you we’re looking at her with a glow in your eyes
To her you we’re like an angel, HER angel(which you we’re) she just look at you softly giving the “wow...is this really my girlfriend” look (in a good way)
You looked back at the map on the table not noticing the way hange was looking at you “hange this is amazing do you kno- she slide her index finger under your chin and pulled you closer to her face
You’re boobs touched hange’s and she moan softly “you don’t know what you’re doing to me right now y/n” with that she closed the gap between y’all and kissed you sloppily
She had her hands going everywhere on you, your sweet lips on hers made her want more so she slide her hands down your thighs and pulled you up to sit you on the table
She pulled your shirt up over your head and started kissing your neck/jawline while you moaned her name over and over again
After their was hickeys on your neck hange brought you to y’all room and layed you on y’all’s shared bed (it’s not that small so it fits all 3 of y’all well)
Levi came in the room and since he didn’t see y’all he went to the bedroom
He gave y’all the same expression but he kinda smirked in his head, he took off his suit that was over his shoulders and hang it
Y’all were both looking at him with a sexy look as he walked over to the bed he took you by the throat and pulled you to his face
“Missed me brat?” He said as he titled his head a little “ofc daddy” he groaned at the nickname before kissing you deeply while hange kissed you’re neck down to your breast
You moaned in Levi’s mouth as you felt hange’s tongue over your now hard nipple while her other hand was playing with the other one
“I think you might wanna be quiet baby or do I have to make you?” Levi said as he put his hand in your pants only to rub your clit in circle motions
“Aaaahhhh” you moaned over his mouth “ok then brat, I’m guessing you’re choosing the harder way huh?” Hange got out of the way knowing where this is going
Levi pulled grab you by your neck (trying not to hurt you as much as possible) and put you on your knees in front of him
You couldn’t wait to put his dick in your mouth anymore so you started unbuckling his belt
“You’re such a thirsty slut fuck” he said looking down at you as you pulled his pants down
Hange went to sit on the couch watching you pull down Levi’s pants, she took off her panties and got into a position so she can play with herself
You gasp as you pulled Levi’s boxers down seeing his big member, you’ve seen it before obviously but you never got enough of his size
Before you knew it, you were gagging on Levi’s cock tears trimming down your now red face and your hair is everywhere mixed with sweat and tears, spit drooling down your mouth to your tits eyes locked on him
Levi was groaning loudly trying not be as loud “fuck baby just like that” he moans as he held your hair going in one motion |forward and back|
Hange was so close sweats was all over her face/body she loved seeing the 2 person she cared about in this pathetic world do lewd things like this
“Shiitttt” she moaned breathing heavily
Levi was also close, he loved seeing you beneath him with tears on your face like that
“You want me to cum on your face baby?” He groaned out you couldn’t saying anything you tried to hum but it just made you gag on his cock more
Which ended making you’re eyes roll back
Levi
Came
Right
There
“HOLY SHIIITT Y/N!!” he growled loudly as he’s cum shot down your throat, it was too much so you took his cock out and slapped it on your face (softly) as cum spilled in your hair, face and breast
Hange also cum as she saw Levi’s cum on your face like that
“You looked so damn hot like that you damn brat” he said you only smiled at him and he wanted to take you right there because seeing your beautiful smile while his cum was spreaded all over your face like that looked like heaven to him (hange too)
You crawled over hange as she was in the same position with her pussy and cum in view on the edge of the couch giving Levi a good view of your bottom swaying side to side
Levi sat on the bed at he started stroking himself seeing you reach hange and lick her pussy clean
You looked up at her with a lust look on your face while your tongue did it’s work on her clit while she moaned until she held you back and grabs your hair pulling you to the floor
“It’s about you tonight beautiful, not me” she said locking eyes with you as she get on a position where her pussy and your pussy got together and started rubbing it
“H-Han-hangeee” you moaned as both of you locked eyes for a couple of secs before she pulls you into a kiss
She kissed you deeply full of love while rubbing her pussy rougher on you’re pussy
She broke the kiss and lean against your ear “I love you so much baby” she said before holding you closer to her and going in a very rough speed rubbing your clit against her pussy-lips making your eyes roll back once again
“Fuckkkk both of y’all are so damn hot” Levi groaned as he came once again
“Han-hange I- I’m gonna cu- aahhh” you yelled but the end came out as a mumble as hange bring her hand to your mouth as both you came on each other
Shortly after you felt Levi pick you up and place you on the bed “come here baby”
He separated your legs and pulled you closer to him, he lines his cock to your wet pussy and slammed himself against you
You gasp at the stretch. “OH GOD!!! L-Levi” you moaned as you looked down at his cock stretching your pussy
Hange came over to you and started licking your nipple once again and your eyes rolled back for the 3rd time tonight
“D-daddy, s-slow d-down please fucckkkkk” but Levi continues at the same speed
“Shit, take it baby, take all of daddy’s cock” he groaned
Hange kissed you sloppily muffling your moans. Levi was going too hard/fast which made you go crazy and came multiple times but he soon came afterwards painting your walls white (you’re in birth control)
“Ngh!! babyyy” he moaned as his head tilted back, you moaned in hange’s mouth as your struggles to kiss back
Y’all 3 just layed on the bed for some minutes catching y’all breath’s
_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_
Bonus: y’all ended up taking a shower together and hange got out first to change the sheets and clean the floor, after y’all went to sleep cuddling each other (while you we’re in the middle of both of your lovers of course) (the next morning, y’all may or may not got complaints from captains Erwin saying how loud y’all was that night and y’all should be quieter. “Hey, next time remind me to be as loud as I can” hange said to you and Levi but Erwin didn’t hear. You giggled as quiet as you could while Levi rolled his eyes but smiled a little knowing he had everything he could ever wish for).
Note: you are my first ask sweetheart 💗✨🥰
#anime#anime aesthetic#anime art#anime gif#levi x hange#levi ackerman#hange zoë#attack on titan#attack on titan smut#smut#polyamourus pride#polyamorous#y/n x levi#aot x y/n#levi x reader#hange x reader#lovely
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Wait wait wait, hold up.. people really think this woman from the ep11 is Isabella? I’m sorry, but how?
I understand the slideshow went by quick and that shot of the mystery woman only lasted a couple of seconds, so at first glance they may look real similar when her hair is down, but the color? Completely off.
Ep4 is a bad example since that whole scene where Isabella is locked up is poorly lit but look anywhere else and you can tell that her hair color is much darker. You can’t convince me it’s just the lighting in that one slideshow shot that makes her hair lighter either because even when there’s nothing but a white background surrounding her the dark color remains the same.
Isabella has also never had light brown hair in her life so why do we suddenly think it became lighter for some reason?
Because it hasn’t? Hell, if anything it seems to have darken a little bit after everyone crossed over to the human side of the world.
The difference in hair color is an easy mistake, I get that, but since other people are getting mixed up about it, now we’re suddenly jumping to conclusions like “oh she’s a bad mom/look at her having another kid and neglecting Ray again/she doesn’t even care about the other kids/etc.” ..Hello?? She and Ray might not have the best mother/son relationship, but the mother role she was forced to play while trapped under the farm system vs the mother she truly is when free are two completely different people. Deep down she loves all the children she’s looked after, Ray included, and in ch177 she says she wants to atone for all the wrongs she’s done, so I doubt she would repeat her mistakes and push him aside like she did the first 12 years of his life.
There’s just no way Isabella and the mystery woman are the same person. I can’t imagine her deciding on having another kid without repairing the bonds she had with the plant 3 children first. Hair color and personality aside, do y’all really think Isabella would just go off and get with some random dude when Leslie has been living in her heart this entire time? By ch175 she’s still thinking about him, even 20+ years after his shipment. There’s no doubt in my mind that she’s also singing his song again in ep11 and probably learned guitar because of him as well (he plays the mandolin, i know, but you get my point).
“Oh but Aly, the manga and anime timelines are different, so why bring those moments up?” Of course they are but the character’s feelings remain the same, don’t they? otherwise anime!Emma wouldn’t have said manga!Emma’s thoughts from ch177 about Isabella’s genuine kindness when she convinced anime!Isabella to live with them in the human world. Just because we didn’t get to see her sacrifice herself to save Emma’s life like in manga doesn’t mean she doesn’t care. Literally everything she’s done since being promoted to Grandma has been to help the children and her special extra-chapter does a fantastic job to prove that alongside ch170 and whatever was shown of her betrayal in the anime. Anyways, it just irks me that people are throwing shade at her for something she didn’t even do? Go ahead and dislike her because of her actions when she was the mother in charge of GF plant 3 and how she once treated Ray, that’s completely fair, but not because she looks like one of the other mom/sisters who gave birth to a child. Honestly that frame was probably included to help give us a general idea on how much time may have passed between the initial human world crossover to when Emma’s group returns. I’m gonna end on a less serious note and say that Isabella is a strong woman who doesn’t need a man in her life. C’mon now.
#istg ill defend this woman to the death#the promised neverland#mother isabella#tpn isabella#tpn anime#tpn manga#chidoroki used chatter
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Word of Honor - Episode 3 Part 2 - We’re getting INN to it now!
Meanwhile back with Scooby and the Gang.
B-characters realize that the Goldilocks is missing and it was only the 3 bears that were killed.
And we can hear them surprisingly well from this far away. Their voices must carry exceptionally well.
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The spiderwebs of DEATH
Seriously though it’s been hours. How has no one either taken these wires down or run into them accidentally? You cannot tell me they have checked every bit of this place for ChengLing’s body if these are still up.
Someone has lied to you Mr. White ‘n’ Blue.
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No you fucking did not. If you were cleaning them up roughly you’d at least get the ones on the main doorways! goddamn.
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Old ppl vs the Ghosts!
COME ON DOWN FOR THE FIGHT OF YOUR LIFE THE ALL DEAD VS THE MOSTLY DEAD THIS SUNDAY SUNDAY SUNDAY BE THERE BE THERE BE THERE.
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The Ghost Valley is a menace! It’s high time someone went in there and eradicated them all!
Huh... never thought of that before...
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Eh. Old people chanting the children’s rhymes doesn’t have the same tension. It’s just not the right feel. It’s a no from me.
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Yes. This is perfectly far enough away. No one could possibly overhear us from this distance! I am a genius!
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We are all very worried about ChengLing’s well being. Yes. That is all. Only his well being. Nothing else. No ulterior motives here. Nope. Purely just good will and worry. :DDDD
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Ah yes! Back to my boys! :D
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You big softie.
Seriously though. He is so considerate of not only Best Boy’s physical well being but really his emotional state and autonomy as well. He doesn’t expect ChengLing to act like a full grown adult but he doesn’t treat him like a little kid either. It’s great and I’m here for it.
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It’s not stalking if we got here first, right?
Now you’re stalking me! :D :D :D :D :D
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Some day soon I’ll get you to admit you like me ;)
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Whaaaaaaaaaaaat you’re here to? At this random river?????? OMG what are the chancesssssss?!?!?
At this point I just wanna know fuckin how????
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A-Xiang deserves a fucking medal for putting up with this BS. For real.
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A-Xu you make-a him sad D:
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Zhou ZiShu! Look out! They’re stealing your boat!!
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-Hey if the ghost valley peeps come up to wreck shit it’s gonna be our shit that gets wrecked too you know?
-I don’t give a farting fly’s left ass cheek! I’m one foot in the grave already.
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Glazed armor this glazed armor that give me a glazed donut and let’s call it a day. I don’t careeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee
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Are you inn or out?
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Sorry we’re out of space because for some reason we let ourselves rent out the entire establishment to a single person.
Like I get he paid for the rooms but it’d still be bad for business?? Like no one wants to go to an inn if they won’t let you stay even though there are empty rooms. Like the fuck
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Look elsewhere? Shit you know this is the only inn in town (apparently)!! Where we supposed to go???
Um... why don’t you try looking at I don’t give a FUCK
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Well well well. Who could have seen this coming?
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Zhou ZiShu is about read to add a few more nails
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This old ragged beggar man is hot as fuck. Set him up in my room at once!
Just end my suffering. I beg you
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ChengLing just gonna keep his mouth shut and stay out of it
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-I gave you my own room!
-My room now. Kindly GTFO
-But I bought you clothes too!
-Yeah no one asked you. GTFO!!
-How have my seduction techniques continued to fail??????????
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Love me pls D:
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If Oedipus invented a wire tap he’s gonna have to work harder to get past me!!
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But he doesn’t look like he’s a bad person
Bad people rarely do.
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Take the bed? I couldn’t possibly!! No! You’re taking care of me and protecting me and you’re old! You take the bed! I’ll sleep on the chair! I’m the best boy!!!
Bitch did I fucking stutter?
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You owe me no explanations. I’m sure you have your reasons and that they’re good ones. But don’t suffer needlessly. Treat your wounds and I won’t ask any more about it.
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MY BOY DOESN’T DESERVE THIS. ALL THIS OVER A PIECE OF FUCKIN SEA GLASS??????????
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Ain’t nobody dope as me I’m just so fresh, so clean
(So fresh and so clean clean)
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Daaate niiiiiight
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So I get that you’re like persistently stalking me and all that but like
Why??
Because I know you cute as fuck. Why you hiding?
Show me what your true face and I’ll tell you what I want. What I really really want.
You first bitch
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Local man tries to pry secrets out of only human in a 10 mile radius who has no ulterior motives and is confused when it doesn’t work.
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Das gay
HDU
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Clink Clink bitch
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Master can you please keep it in your pants for 5 minutes? It’s all I ask. Just 5 minutes of peace! Please!
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Pop Quiz!
Who is the second cutest person in the world?
I will settle for anyone who feeds me
Naw. Tsundere is where it’s at.
*Is unimpressed in tsundere*
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Then who is the mostest cutest?
A tsundere with long legs, slim waist, fat ass.
Heavens strike me down now. Please end my misery. Why did I sit here? Didn’t I know better?
Anyone have any more torture nails? Anyone? Please?
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*Insert Mii channel theme*
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We are the unwashed masses. Let’s go fuck some shit up
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Hey guys. Does this look like anime style to you? Someone said it looks like anime but I don’t see it.
I think it looks great! I can’t even draw a stick figure! hahahaha
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Sleepy boi <3
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How the fuck did I become the third wheel?
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*mii channel theme continues*
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Your honored uncle here wouldn’t let us eat anything until you woke up even though he sat at my table. D:
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-Stop acting like a little brat and start acting polite and demure like the other girls
-Uuuuuuuuuuuuuugh gross
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We’re doing found family and we’re doing it now!
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Why aren’t you eating?
Yeah! We had to wait all this time for you to get here and you’re not even eating anyway!!!!!!
Well my home and my entire family died, and so did that random boat man who protected me. And also there’s a hole in my stomach. So I don’t have much of an appetite atm.
Oh My God. can you not???
But that’s how I show affection!!!!!!!! D:<
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Shoving food in your face to hide your tears. A time honored tradition.
Also D: Best boy is sad </3
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Oh no. More people I’m supposed to remember.
JESUS FUCK REALLY???
ARE YOU KIDDING ME? HOW MANY? You cannot tell me they are all important. Please tell me I’m not supposed to remember this many people.
I can’t handle this.
aaaaaaaaaAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARG
THAT’S 11 PEOPLE AT ONCE! WHAT THE FUCK
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Whenever this guy speaks it sounds like he’s trying really hard not to cough in front of the board meeting.
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Okay so what I got from this is
There was a treaty between these peeps and the ghost peeps to say they’ll leave each other the fuck alone
The ghost peeps broke that promise by fucking with the mirror lake sect and so these peeps decided to retaliate
and they’re gonna retaliate by throwing a party?
Like I guess they’re just gathering forces? But like it’s a weird way to do it.
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Oh for the love of god.
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Pffffffffffffffff welcome to the circus
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*sigh*
Okay y’all I can remember like 6 people. 7 Max. Y’all gonna have to be picky about who’s important here.
How many of these people do I actually have to know?
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Now what the fuck happened here and why are the twin jades here?
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You two have a piece of the glazed ham. And even though no one is using it it’s really important that we keep it that way. No one must hold all pieces of the glazed ham. Or..... bad things?
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Oh my. Pain o’clock already?
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SOMEONE GET THEIR ASS IN THERE AND GIVE MY BOY A HUG!
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Hey! What do you see? Is he in there?
I can’t see a goddamn thing.
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So I know that he’s like what, 15? And like grew up with a dad. But like you know they made him scream “A-Die” and then wake up to Zhou ZiShu’s comforting touch on purpose. You know that was planned.
Maybe not a father, but certainly a father figure.
(Also thanks, A-Xu for answering my request from earlier for someone to comfort the poor boy.)
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What’s this? The sounds of a scuffle???
Whelp. Not anymore.
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Couldn’t he have just ordered them to leave instead?
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The Ghost Valley seems to be following me rather closely.
Oh you have no idea. ;)
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Alcohol detected
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Let me call you a cute pet name and I’ll let you drink from my bottle of nectar. ;)
Oh my god this shit again?
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You know what?
Two can play at this game.
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You wanna see what lies underneath? Rip it off yourself.
Don’t worry! I’m patient! Sleep well! Dream of me! I know I’ll be dreaming of you! ;)
#word of honor#Shanhe Ling#wen kexing#zhou zishu#zhang chengling#Gu Xiang#Writing WoH#spoilers#episode 3#long post
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The Proposal + The Party (wip) + First Kiss (wip)
Tsukkiyama ATLA AU
I’m really proud of some of my improvements these last few months! This AU has been bouncing around in my head for ages haha so I’m slowly drawing out the story. Maybe one day I’ll properly write it! Also ik it’s unlikely for an air representative to have such fancy clothes but idc yams in flowly robes gives me life uwu also most air nomads have shaved heads but since Tadashi came from the water tribe he wouldn’t be expected to shave it until receiving his airbending mastery tattoos, which he will never receive bc he eventually defects and runs away with Kei before finishing his training. Anywho read on for more details on each piece, tho two are still in progress felt like it would be fun to post some together. Also there is a specific reason why Tsukki carved yams a betrothal necklace and not vice versa
This AU starts in Avatar Roku’s time around 20/25 years before the air nomad genocide. Tadashi and Kei were both born in the Northern Water Tribe and were childhood friends. Kei comes from a very prestigious noble water bending family, a very recognizable one at that with very uncharacteristic fair white or blond hair as a result of a strong spiritual connection central ancestors had, in addition many members are predisposed to having a powerful bond with the moon. They are a very small clan, but very powerful, and they are often found in important occupations like taking care of the spirit oasis. Akiteru is the heir to most of the family’s titles, giving Kei decent leeway to do what he wants, though there are still many expectations as a member of such a traditional clan. He will be expected to be highly educated on local and global affairs and expected to partake in a politically beneficial arranged marriage later in life as is customary in the northern tribe.
Tadashi on the other hand is an only child of a small family of no import. His mother and father ended up working for the Tsukishimas so he was around the place a lot, and being the same age meant the two became fast friends around the age of 7. Tadashi’s earnest goodnatured attitude was a candle to Kei’s more icy exterior. They become really close friends, both pariahs in their own right. Kei could be popular on his family name and his burgeoning waterbending talent, but his rude attitude and disdain for expectations make him disliked but grudgingly respected. Tadashi is derided for his lack of bending and lack of status. Before befriending Tsukki he was often picked on. Finding comfort and understanding in their odd symbiosis, they lived in their own little world.
A huge shock came to their friendship when they were 12, Tadashi discovering his airbending abilities. Turns out his mother was once an air nomad, born and raised, but with fairly weak bending abilities, thus never receiving mastery tattoos, who choose to abandon that life when she fell in love with a water tribe man when a journey threw her off course. Because marrying across nations is very uncommon and slightly stigmatized, especially during the tumultuous decade before the start of the Hundred Years’ War that marked increased division. Thus Tadashi’s mother completely abandoned her old identity in order to fully assimilate into the culture of the Northern Water Tribe and never mentioned it to her son in order to protect him from any additional scorn of being the result of a internation couple. Since her airbending abilities were so weak and her husband was a non bender she figured it would never be important.
Quite a shock when Tadashi’s abilities suddenly bloom at 12, fairly late for bending to manifest but likely a result of not growing up amidst the spirituality of air nomad culture that is so essential to airbending practices. Some sort of minor public spectatcle occurs due to Tadashi’s uncontrolled new abilities, leading to the tribe’s leadership demanding he be sent to the northern air temple to become an air bender. Another result of expectations for a harsh division between nations due to the polarization of the Fire Nation’s aggressive actions leading up to the hundred year war. Kei is upset because his only true friend is leaving and does what he does best and decides to get icy and push him away. Tadashi is terrified to leave behind the only culture and family he has ever known to go to a completely new place, and he is hurt. They leave on these complicated feelings. Kei continues his waterbending training and his studies full force to avoid his feelings, and a complex relationship with his brother and family further drive him to avoid expanding his social circle as expectations loom. Tadashi travels to the air temple and is very nervous about the whole thing. Determined to move on and make the best of things, Tadashi is pleasantly suprised by the fun loving nature of the air nomads. He quickly bonds to his mentor Shimada, and becomes fast friends with fellow new air apprentices, Hinata from the Fire Nation and Yachi from the Earth Kingdom, who also discovered a hidden nomad heritage when their bending abilities bloomed. Tadashi trains, and while he is no bending genius he works hard to improve. He pays particular attention to his studies and this makes him a prime candidate for later diplomatic missions as tensions worsen between the four nations.
The Party:
This is the earliest chronologically, basically representing the first meeting Yamaguchi and Tsukishima have after many years apart. After 6 long years Kei and Tadashi meet again when a diplomatic convoy of air nomads is sent to the Northern Tribe. There is a big party with diplomats from each nation. This is about 7 years before the start of the war. The fire nation is there on formality and treated with the most distrust while the other three nations are fairly friendly and willing to let loose with each other. (The fire nation convoy will consist of some other characters, possibly Kageyama and Oikawa? Still working that out) I’m thinking that Asahi and Daichi might be an earth kingdom princes with bodyguards Noya and Tanaka, who become good friends with waterbender Suga. The diplomatic trip is meant to last around 8 months. Anyway this drawing is meant to represent Yamaguchi and Tsukishima’s first meeting at 18 after so many years. Fancy clothes, endless formalities, both considering the other insanely attractive... and they are both drawn in by each other’s familiarity and confidence. This is the first spark of something new between the witty remarks and coy glances. They have no clue what hit them.
First Kiss
Jumping ahead of a lot of yearning... I mean truly a ridiculous amount of dancing around each other for maybe 3 months they finally kiss. Complicated by the impending arrangement of Tsukishima’s marriage to another prestigious young waterbender, Kiyoko, who Tsukishima greatly respects but is in no way attracted to. They keep their blooming romance a passionate secret to prevent political disaster for the nomads and Tsukki’s family. It’s really hard for them to keep their hands off of each other and there are plenty of close calls. There is some jealousy on both sides due to the uncertainties of their relationship. Yamaguchi discovers a betrothal necklace Kei is carving and is painfully reminded of the marriage expectation. Luckily both make strong connections to new friends and slowly their relationship becomes known to this close circle. For a bit they worry about what would happen if Kiyoko finds out, but later they discover her affair with the earth kingdom bodyguard Tanaka so she gets it.
The Proposal
wrote this out and then tumblr didn’t save it so y’all get the quick version bc it is almost 7 am and no I have not slept. Now they are in the Northern Air temple for the tail end of the diplomatic mission. Kei carved the necklace for Yamaguchi, not Kiyoko as he had assumed. In a secluded garden on the island Kei proposes to Yamaguchi with the betrothal necklace. Though made for and worn by women, their relationship already defied infinite traditions and Kei knew how much it would mean for Tadashi to have their relationship carved into stone. They agree to run away to be together after wrapping up the diplomatic mission. Then more stuff happens I have not gotten to yet lol. There will def be a lot of side ships. If anyone has any ideas for side ship plot lines def come chat! I’d love to hear if ppl like this AU idea
#tsukkiyama#atla x haikyuu#haikyuu#tsukkiyama au#yamaguchi tadashi#atla#tsukishima kei#haikyuu au#haikyuu fanart#haikyuu tadashi#hq yamaguchi#haikyuu!!#atla tsukkiyama#waterbender tsukishima#airbender yamaguchi#yamaguchi atla#atla tsukishima#fanart#my art#art#haikyuu crossover#haikyuu/atla#atla au#hq tsukki#haikyuu tsukishima#anime
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If I Only Had a Heart - a Denny Duquette story
Disclaimer: All characters belong to Shonda Rhimes and I may have thrown in a few lines from Grey’s Anatomy, which again, are all Shonda’s! This was inspired by my own real life job as a barista at a hospital and seeing the coffee cart on Grey’s. Hope y’all enjoy the fluffy goodness!
I stroke my boyfriend’s hair and kiss his forehead. His eyelids were heavy and the monitor beeped rhythmically. It was the first time since before being diagnosed that his heart was beating properly. I run my fingers over his stubbly cheek.
“You’re done, Denny. You’re done. You’ve got a new heart, baby,” I rub his hand, tears welling up in my eyes. Denny grimaces in his deep slumber. A large tube was jammed down his throat. I had just sat through the longest eight hours of my life, all I wanted was to hear Denny say, “I love you.”
“He did amazing, Mrs. Duquette,” Dr. Stevens stands in the doorway, massaging hand sanitizer into her hands.
“Why do you have to eating that when I’m NPO?” Denny teases.
“Mmm. Lo mein and honey walnut shrimp,” I wave the chopsticks in his face.
“Get fucked,” my boyfriend laughs.
“Language, Dennison,” Dr. Burke smiles as he places his stethoscope on my boyfriend’s hairy chest.
“Uh oh, full name. Look’s like Dad’s mad at me! Will you hand me my bag, doll face?” I grab Denny’s black backpack. “Let me see, let me see. Where did I put it?”
“What are looking for?” Denny ignores me, continuing to rifle through his belongings. “Ah,” he smiles at me, “There it is.” He drops his bag to the side of the bed and opens a small velvet box.
“What is that? Denny Duquette, you’ve done lost your ever loving mind!” I imitate his vaguely southern twang. He laughs heartily.
“You sound like my mother.”
“You’re crazy,” I kiss his ice cold lips.
“Crazy for you. Will you marry me?” Denny sighs, wheezing slightly, he always got short of breath when he was emotional. He gasps for air as a single tear falls from his eyelashes.
“Baby, breathe,” I giggle, cupping his cheek in my hand, “Of course I’ll marry you!”
“Hey, he’s okay!” Dr. Stevens rubs my shoulder. “I know all the equipment hooked up to him looks really scary, but it’s to monitor his condition. He doesn’t need machines to be kept alive anymore,” the gorgeous blonde woman smiles reassuringly.
“No more battery packs?” I grin through the tears.
“No more battery packs. He’ll wake up here in the next few hours. The restraints are so he doesn’t freak out and try to pull his breathing tube out, which will come out this time tomorrow. He’ll be in the ICU for the next week, and then we’ll transfer him to the cardiac treatment unit. Here, I have something for you. Well, it’s really for Denny’s recovery,” Dr. Stevens hands me a heart shaped pillow with a permanent marker for me to sign. “It helps with the pain from the incision and his sternum being cracked. Coughing or sneezing can feel like breaking a bone.” I wince at the thought and open the marker.
“My darling Denny, I love you more than words can explain. I can’t wait to call you my ‘husband’ when you get out of here. You’re mine, baby. Forever and ever.”
***
Denny opened the door to our cozy, one bedroom apartment.
“Home at last! Thank GOD!” he smiles, “It sure smells like home,” he inhales the sweet aroma of candles and a savory roast I had made in the slow cooker to welcome him home after a full month of recovering at Seattle Grace. He wraps his arms around me. I tilt my head up and kiss my boyfriend.
“I forgot how tall you are,” I smile.
“I know,” he whispers and strokes my hair. I run my fingers over the long, healing scar on his chest. His shirt was unbuttoned slightly to allow his skin to breathe after being bandaged for so long. He rocks me back and forth. I begin to shed a few tears. “What’s wrong, sweet girl?”
“Don’t you ever do that to me again,” I cry into his flannel shirt.
“Do what, baby? What’s wrong? I’m okay now!” Denny chuckles and kisses my forehead.
“Scare the shit out of me. I thought I was going to lose you,” I wipe away the wetness on my cheeks.
“I know, honey. I was scared too. Every single day, I was wondering if this would be the day I close my eyes and don’t wake up. You know how much I hate hospitals.”
“I know you do. I can’t imagine my life without you, honey.”
“And I feel the same. Heaven would be nice, but I wouldn’t be able to take you with me. But it’s over now. I have a new lease on life. I get to spend the rest of my life with you. I love you,” Denny squeezes me close.
“I love you, Denny.”
“Hey, sweetheart,” a coy smile crosses his lips. I kiss him, tugging at his soft brunette locks.
“Yeah?”
“Dr. Burke cleared me for physical activity,” he raises his eyebrows with his signature charming smirk that made me fall head over heels that fateful day in the Seattle Grace coffee shop.
“Hello there,” a gravelly voice speaks up. I glance up from my morning temperature logs and stock lists. “Are you open?” A tall, insanely handsome, dark haired man stands before me. A warm smile graces his tanned face. He has two black straps affixed to his chest over his slim fitted t shirt.
“Of course! I mean, yes, hi!” I stammer over my words, making a fool of myself in front of. My face reddens as I grab a marker.
“Hi!” he chuckles, matching my goofy tone. I can hardly think straight.
“What can I get for you?” I ask politely.
“I’ve never been here before actually. Nice place you’ve got-“
“Hey Denny!” Dr. Burke pops up behind the man.
“Hey, Dr. Burke! You caught me, I needed a little pick me up,” the man now named Denny winked at me.
“No judgment here, sir. Contrary to popular belief, people with heart failure CAN drink caffeine,” he holds up two slender fingers, “Just two shots of espresso with a Splenda, please.”
“You get your coffee, it’s on me today,” Denny says. Dr. Burke’s pager beeps loudly.
“That’s very kind of you!” he glances at the pager. “Gotta run! See you next month!” the doctor chugs the shots quickly and tosses the cup in the trash.
“Now, where were we?” Denny says. “Oh yeah, I’m Denny, you’ll probably be seeing a lot of me in the coming months because my heart is failing me,” he jokes.
“Hi Denny! I’m (name). It’s nice to meet you! You said your heart is failing you, hm?” I’m glad it wasn’t too busy, because I wanted to look into those hazel eyes for hours.
“Sure is. See these straps? They’re attached to a battery pack running this ol’ ticker. I used to be a ranch hand before I became a weak, sick bastard. Anyway, sorry, you didn’t ask for my life story.”
“Don’t apologize,” I grin. “I hear people’s stories all the time at this job. Kind of comes with working in a hospital, I guess,” I shrug, “What sounds good today, hon?”
“‘Hon’? Oh my, I didn’t know we were on that level yet! I’ve never been here before actually. What do you recommend?”
“Well, I’m pretty simple. This time of year, I really like a dark roast with some cream and a smidge of peppermint. But when I’m feeling like treating myself, I love a white mocha, iced with no whipped cream is my personal preference.” Denny cocks an eyebrow. Warmth gathers between my thighs.
“What if I did an iced white mocha with peppermint? That sounds like a candy cane in a cup! Let’s do a large, because why not?”
“Alright, so with Dr. Burke’s order, your total is $6.17. I gave you an employee discount, because I do what I want,” I tease.
“Hell yeah you do. Here, sweet girl. Keep the change,” he hands me a $20. I whipped around and begin preparing his beverage. Denny bit his lower lip as he looked me up and down. I grabbed the marker with a smirk and did something I’ve always wanted to do.
“There you go! I hope you enjoy that!” his hand grazes mine as he grabs the cup. He shoves a straw in and takes a sip.
“Wow, that’s tasty! What’s this? 406- Oh, you sly dog. I guess I’ll text you later, pretty little thing,” he blows me a kiss. I have a feeling this man and I are going to get along swimmingly.
“Did he now?” Denny begins sucking my neck and moaning in my ear. A shiver courses through my body as he cups my breasts in his massive hands. I missed my boyfriend’s touch. “Mmm, babe. Your hands are warm.”
“I forgot what it feels like to have a normal body temperature,” Denny chuckles, “Oh man, my blood’s pumpin’ in the right direction now, that’s for sure,” he gestures downwards. “Now, go put on that outfit that Daddy loves so much,” he gives my backside a light squeeze and I scamper to the bedroom. I slip out of my sweatpants and my boyfriend’s t-shirt. The smell of his cologne lingered on the fabric, giving me comfort on those nights I had to sleep alone. I put on Denny’s favorite crimson and black teddy and add a quick spritz of perfume.
“Alright, baby. I’m ready,” I call out to the living room. Denny kicks off his boots and ambled into the bedroom with a wide smile.
“Baby doll,” Denny clicks his tongue.
“You like?”
“Oh god,” he clutches his chest, “You’re going to make Daddy’s heart stop and it’s brand new,” he laughs. He pulls me down onto the bed with him and kisses me all over.
“I love you,” I moan.
“And I love you, Mrs. Duquette.”
***
“Oh baby! Oh god, baby girl, Daddy loves you so much,” Denny rasps.
“Oh Daddy, yes! Mmm, Denny, I’ve missed you so much. It’s been so long,” I whine. Denny digs his fingernails into my hips as his eyes roll back. He finishes inside me.
“You feel too damn good,” he moans against my neck. “I didn’t last very long,” he chuckles. I smile and trace my hand over his abdomen as I breathe heavily, my whole lower body pulsating with pleasure. Denny pulls out gently and lays next to me. He wraps his strong arms around me.
“It’s so nice to feel your heart race and it’s not atrial fibrillation!” I giggle excitedly.
“Say it again,” Denny smirks.
“Fibrillation,” I dance my fingers over his scar.
“You sure sound sexy when you talk medical to me.” I bury my face in his lush chest hair.
“I never want to let you go,” my voice is barely above a whisper.
“You don’t have to. You’re going to be my wife remember?” he kisses my forehead and pets my hair.
“I absolutely cannot wait.” Denny rubs my engagement ring sweetly.
@iluvneganandjamie @negans-attagirl @jdmbbycakes
#denny duquette#fanfic#fanfiction#greys anatomy#jeffrey dean morgan#negan#the walking dead#john winchester#supernatural
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I have a feeling your ask box and I are going to be familiar. You might be hot-taked out after that killer Satomi discourse. But whenever you’ve got it in you, I’d sure love to hear what you think about Kira and her Jeff-deemed-absolutely-necessary departure.
Oh, definitely. And I do love content, so...
Kira Yukimura was done so dirty by the writers and Jeffrey “I’m not racist I’ll prove it by arguing to poc calling me out for it on twitter” Davis. Her treatment was racist, tokenizing, and it wasn’t even high-brow racism. It was sloppy and lazy. If you’re gonna write all your characters of color off the show, commit to it. She went to the desert like 5 times before she stayed. Cowards.
Kira was only meant to be on the show for the Nogitsune storyline in 3b. However, fans liked her so much that, as with Theo in season 6, she was brought back for more episodes. The difference is that Cody Christian is white-passing and male and Arden Cho is not. Female characters don’t exist on Teen Wolf without a relationship to a male character. Hayden existed for Liam. Tracy existed for Theo. Melissa existed for Scott and Argent. Allison existed for Scott. Lydia, the female character with the most screentime of all of them, spent a lot of her time existing in relationship to Jackson, Stiles, Parrish (shudder), and other male main characters. Women on the show were reduced to love interests and mothers more often than not, and Kira was the same.
I loved her character. I loved her arc. I loved Arden Cho, who in real life is as sweet and kind as her character. I enjoyed her parents, both Noshiko, who’s surprisingly funny and a total badass, and Ken, who’s the most wholesome man in the universe. The only straight man we stan. I love him.
Anyways, Kira was getting a fun arc outside of being Scott’s girlfriend, with her parents and her powers and all, and then wham, white-passing boy shows up and no more main character status for Kira. Guess there wasn’t enough room to keep the only interesting plot line of all the ones happening in s5. Personally, I would have chosen Kira over the Marrish garbage fire of underage relationships, but that’s just me.
Then. The Skinwalkers. I could write a whole essay about them, but this is a Kira post, so I’ll limit it to her. At least Luther got sent to the moon for a reason. Kira got sent to the desert for “rEaSoNs”. There was no indication that her power was out of control, but every indication it wasn’t. She was growing and learning. Then, suddenly, she was “too powerful” so she had to go to the desert and disappear for a few episodes and then go back and forth for a while before they wrapped up sending Theo to the upside down or wherever he went and she could finally go... hang out with the people who we were told could help her control her power but who only threw spears at her and gave her a season finale ex machina. Then back to the desert with you!
You can tell something was going on backstage in her treatment. Arden Cho wasn’t informed she was being cut, she had to be told by fans. Her departure was carried out as swiftly as possible, and not for any real reason. Kira would have been tremendously helpful against the hunters and in a lot of later scenes, against the Ghost Riders (and let me remind everyone that KIRA WAS THE ONE WHO TOLD LYDIA ABOUT THE WILD HUNT), against pretty much anything. Immune to electrocution? Don’t help with the hunters who love electrocuting people. Sloppy writing through and through.
And what’s more is that Kira was cut just in time for the Scalia thing, which was so fucking rushed oh my GOD nothing has ever been less natural- this is a Kira post, calm down capsicle. Anyways, Kira got replaced as Scott’s love interest and not much else by a white girl, no hate on Malia or Shelley but much on the writers. I loved Malia and Kira’s friendship, and if anyone should have gotten with Malia, it should have been Kira. (The first time I saw Malia I wondered if we were getting another ambiguously brown character, actually, but no, just Georgian and well-tanned. But I bet not all my followers knew Tracy was played by a Chinese and Cherokee actor. Or that Nolan was played by a Mexican and Caxcan actor. Or that Theo was played by a Penobscot Native actor. The list goes on of white-passing POC who got to stay marginally longer than Black or brown characters.) The “Scott ends up with a white girl he has no chemistry with” threw me for many loops, especially after I was surprised to find myself liking Scira, even though I’m usually bored by straight relationships because of their one-sided focus and nonexistent chemistry. Kira got to be a character outside of Scott, and I liked their romance better for it, and then desert for a thousand years!
TLDR on the canon end of things is that Kira and Arden were done dirty by a group of powerful white men who wanted to tell a cishet white story.
Now, on the fandom end of things, I’m stepping into the real hot water. It’s safe to say that Kira’s story was sloppy and Arden didn’t deserve that ending, but it’s less safe to say that this fandom doesn’t treat her that well either. Here’s the most popular x Scott ships on Ao3, under the Teen Wolf tag with no other filters.
Scott and Allison. Scott and Stiles. Scott and Isaac. Then Scott and Kira, in dead last. Scott and Malia don’t even make the top ships list, probably because of how rushed and sloppy it was, but I digress.
People love Scott and Allison a lot, and I get that. I liked her too. I was also sad when she died. But, unlike a lot of sentiment I see in this fandom, I don’t think she should have been brought back to fight the beast in season 5 and get back with Scott. Not only do I think bringing characters back to life without very good reason and explanation (which they wouldn’t have, come on) cheapens their death, and that bringing characters back to life is weak storytelling in general, but let’s recall that Scira is still a thing in season 5. They’re still madly in love when Kira leaves. Allison should not have come back and love-triangled so Kira could be written off for a different white girl or so the massive amount of young white girls in the fandom who love Allison would be angry at Kira for breaking up their OTP. That would have been the one thing that could have made season 5 worse. (Well, they could have made Marrish a thing or killed Mason, but Jeff Davis thought about it and a shiver went down his spine because the ghost of Christmas future hears my name in its nightmares.)
Even if people aren’t “bring Allison back” campers, they largely ignore Kira’s entire existence. People who post gifsets and posts about Allison or Lydia don’t give anywhere near the same amount of attention to Kira. I see more Malia posts, actually. And while all of them had more runtime than Kira, none of them paired with Scott quite as perfectly, or had such strong independent storylines. Lydia almost did, but it kept petering out and she kept going back to main plot only. I see lots of appreciation posts for Allison and Lydia and Malia and the men, obviously, but NOTHING for Kira or Arden Cho. We all know what happened backstage because we read the same post in 2016 or whenever and then we all stopped talking about it.
Even the racism in this fandom skips Kira. Scott antis, I’m looking (controversially) at you. I’m glad Kira isn’t the subject of a bunch of obvious racism (as much as “bring Allison back!” makes it subtle), but not because she’s a forgotten side character. Kira made the main credit sequence! She has a sword! What else could you all POSSIBLY want?
And here’s where I burn at the stake: Kira was written off her own damn “look Fun Japanese mythology” storyline half the time so it could center around Stiles. A white boy. There were numerous issues with the mythology before that — “Oni” means demon, not “firefly samurai ninja”, and it refers to a similar mythology as the western “fae”, a large collection of creatures benevolent, malevolent, and in between, with different traits and origins. Kitsunes are meant to be red or white, not gold, and they’re foxes, not cats, animation team. “Nogitsune” refers to the malevolent class of “low” Kitsune, or “wild” Kitsune, who didn’t align themselves with the goddess Inari and do divine and pious work. There are many of them and the most they really do is harass people at shrines, not murder indiscriminately for funsies. They’re only malevolent in that they like doing bad deeds, not that they’re serial killers. And they’re not one of the usual 13 low Kitsune, two of which are bad of their own accord! (Spirit and Air. Google it!) They are meant to be dealt with by Inari-aligned high Kitsune, not your average tricky fox. Among other things.
So Stiles. Outside of the Kira storyline, he’s used in a lot of fandom discourse about racism and sexism. And queerbaiting. Y’all love a scrawny white boy. Anyways, Stiles gets possessed by the Nogitsune (that’s NOT how that works but okay Jeffrey) and suddenly s3 is about him. Kira’s not evil, now let’s look at Stiles being tired and messy and killing people. Dylan #1 did a great job playing that part, no hate on him, but the fact that a white boy became the main character in a Japanese (or Korean, if you’re Jeff, same thing) girl’s storyline is. Hmm. How do you call it? Blatant racism. And erasure. Which is racism. YIKES, Jeff. There is so much wrong with Stiles being the Nogitsune and controlling the Oni and his whole story (and oh my god the other guy who got possessed was also a white boy instead of a Japanese character played by the same actress Jesus fucking Christ). I’m not going into that, because that’s its own essay.
Anyways, because of how much this fandom loves Stiles, it’s easy to ignore how Kira and Japanese characters were treated. People project onto Stiles with glee. He’s white. He’s awkward. He’s (supposedly) not super attractive. (Yikes.) He’s ditzy and bouncy and all that fun stuff, but he also always saves the day. He got written off for most of 6b and he still saved the stupid day. And hey, dark!Stiles (let’s not get into calling him dark instead of Nogitsune that’s just too much wine we’d have to crack open to say it) is a fun trope and people like posting and creating about him. Except that he’s the white boy who took Kira’s storyline. Her independent story about Kitsune and the like was all given over to him, not just by the show, but by the fandom. So now every post about Kitsune is a Stiles post, even if it started with Kira. And because it’s Stiles, and this fandom loves him, and is easily offended by people leaning too hard on the glass house around them and him, Kira gets forgotten and swept aside. Everyone would rather talk about Stiles. Who is incapable of bad. Or cultural appropriation. But if you attack him you’re being ableist because he has ADHD. This is why I relate to Nolan for anxiety feels instead.
TLDR on the fandom end, y’all don’t treat Kira better than the show did. I see a few posts here and there from some dedicated users — typically the same people posting about Boyd, Deaton, Morrell, yeah that’s it I’m the only one posting about Kali. (Un-fun fact: Kali was not played by an Indian actor, but by a half-Black actor. Jeff Davis, when called out on twitter, said “wow ok idiots we tried to find an Indian actress but it was hard actually SUPER hard so shut up and stop telling me how to write MY show”, which is paraphrasing with intent to make fun, but exactly what he said.) Y’all who know about Arden and Kira should diversify your blogs to include more POC, especially ones where the actor AND character were rudely sidelined for vague white people reasons. Post gifs of Kira along with Allison, Lydia, and Malia. Post ship stuff of Scira too. Post about kitsunes, the origin story of the Nogitsune, when you post about the white boy who became the main character of that arc. Call the show out. Call the fandom out. Stop making every bit and piece of her story about Czechoslovakia White Boy. Demand Kira in any future runs of the show, if season 7 or whatever does happen. Include her in your fanfictions, in your headcanons, in your art. You don’t have to love her, but you have to remember that she’s as there as any of the white characters are.
This take is very hot. If I receive racist asks and/or messages about this, I’m going to make fun of each and every sender.
#teen wolf#that werewolf show#werewolves#kira yukimura#stiles stilinski#noshiko yukimura#ken yukimura#kitsune#kitsunes#asian representation#east asian representation#cultural appropriation#teen wolf discourse#hot takes#character asks#answered ask#ask me anything#warning: white boys being the center of someone else’s culture again#is this an anti stiles post#i didn’t mean it that way oops#no aggressively racist stiles stans in my inbox thx#he’s a fine character and it’s the writer and producer team’s fault#teen wolf did kira dirty#spilling tea#so much tea#i’m going to burn at the stake for this#some takes are too hot for the white girls in the fandom#yes that’s a joke about spicy foods#if y’all are gonna joke about asian water being spicy this is what you get in return
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Well y’all, here is my awaited (by like, two people) really long post explaining why I think Bobby is not that great of a character and why I hate his relationship with Buck.
(this was supposed to be for a reblog but it’s way tooo long for that)
Be warned, this will be me pointing out everything he did wrong and why the way he acts with Buck is just wrong too in a very direct way and with lots of swearing because that's how I express my anger in writing. So, if you like Bobby you probably won’t like this.
I will put a cut here so only the people that want to read it, do it
To start let me say what I think about the man.
Bobby is the most boring character in the show. There, I said it.
Yeah, his backstory is super sad and whatever but he’s just bland and I think the reason the fandom loves him so much and loves to see him as a father figure is because he’s an old, non-threatening, white man. He said two coherent thoughts in season one and treated Buck like a kid and everyone bought this “nice, wise and always right” idea of him.
Also, his natural stand is the ‘welcome to chili's’ stand. Yes. You know it is. Okay, keep going.
To be someone so “mature” and “wise”, he has the emotional maturity of a child. He snaps when he’s angry, he gives the silent treatment and he changes the subject when he feels threatened.
Every time he’s mad at himself or about something in his life, he snaps at the team or even at people in calls, he gets defensive when someone calls him out on his self righteousness and his superiority complex. Now, to expand that i’m going to give some examples:
-He snaps at Chimney when they learn about the blood thing and he gets mad at the fact that now he has something good in his life because he doesn’t deserve it and so he’s all moody at work???
-He snaps at Hen days after asking for her help to stay sober,
-He snaps at Buck when he says he read his book and even gets physical, pushing him against the wall
*Now, because I have a thing against men and threatening physical movements, I’m going back to episode one and how he physically moves to make Buck feel scared (that he might hit him) when he walks towards him in the roof, making him back up.* (yes, Buck was afraid of his reaction and since he’s Buck he wasn’t just gonna stand up to him, much less because it was Bobby, and I’m pretty sure he (bobby) knew that)
-Also, the way he says “what did you just said to me?” to Buck in 3.18 like Buck had just insulted him. That was just a stupid and out of place reaction, not a reaction of a boss in the middle of a disaster but it will be talked about later.
-That one time when he snaps at the owner of the building where the floor collapsed during the wedding
-That one time he snaps (and again, gets physical and pushes him against a wall) at the dude in the episode with the vegan protesters because he can’t handle how he’s feeling about Buck and the lawsuit. (I’m vegan so yeah, fuck that dude, but the point is: that was another immature and unprofessional reaction)
(I could take that time when Michael is telling him he’s done enough (after harry sets a fire on purpose to play firefighter) and Bobby says “What’s that supposed to mean?” But I won’t because that’s just another immature reaction but for different reasons)
Going to the silent treatment or change of subject when he feels threatened:
-When Chimney is telling the team he proposed to Tatiana and Bobby is standing as Chim says “silently judging right there with that smirk on your face” (which is the vibe he gives all the time, thinking he knows best, and now quoting De Luca, who was a little jealous but a lot right saying “you come in here with your nose in the air and your eyes looking down”) then he just says “you know what? you’re upset. Let’s drop it.”But Chim keeps pushing and then he just attacks back.
-Also, he wants things his way and isn’t willing to understand the other’s reason for something. “I’m not gonna be satisfied with stolen kisses and take out containers. I don’t like keeping us a secret. It feels like lying.” (remember when Eddie says to Buck “a lot of Is there”? mhmm) and the fact that he worded it that way makes it worse. Also, “it feels like lying” really? what are you, five?
-another moment that shows his immaturity and stupid things he’s said: “Well what am I supposed to do? Forget it, forget all the mean thing she said to her?” Are you a grown man talking about your wife (who can fix her own shit, thank you very much) and her mother, or about a little kid getting bullied bro?
Jumping to the next time we see Athena’s mother. In episode 7 from season 3 he literally calls her so she would make Athena stop investigating Emmeth’s case and after she convinces Athena to tell them everything, he tells her he can do it, like he’s giving her his permission or his blessing to do it? She was gonna do it anyway, fool.
another stupid line: “he called me a liar and it stung.” why does he sound like a five year old all the time?
another stupid thing he said because he doesn’t take blame in anything apparently (and this is going to be mentioned again when I get into his relationship with Buck but I’m going to talk about it now too) Athena jokes about not inviting Buck over anymore because something always happens and Bobby says “That’s a great idea. None of this would’ve happened if you hadn’t invited him over for dinner.” (HMMMMM)
Also, he’s mocking and condescending. But well, I don’t have the time to find all the scenes for that. Let’s just say he is with Chim sometimes (maybe some other character, let me know if you have someone in mind) and then with Buck the rest of the time and you can clearly see it.
There are some other examples that could be used here but will be used to analyze his and Buck’s relationship in this next part.
Now the idea was to divide this by season and try to organize by episode but it got a little messy. You can understand everything anyway and that’s what matters, okay?
Season 1:
You can see the potential for a father-son relationship, but all the patience and understanding he has at the beginning is gone after the roof scene (personally, I think it’s all about projecting his own past mistakes and that why he looks so angry and resentful).
He goes from “He just needs a little direction” and explaining things like why Buck can’t go into the hospital with the baby to “leave your problems behind” and kind of shaming him for sleeping around? Saying “we work with women side by side” as if Buck was harassing someone?
“So you wanna disrespect yourself, that’s fine with me. You wanna disrespect all these women that you chase around, that’s on them.” He’s clearly way too old school and apparently doesn’t understand that as long as there’s consent, there’s nothing wrong with sleeping around, it’s not something to be ashamed of. And Bobby (the whole team, honestly but Bobby has some defining lines) make him feel so ashamed to the point that once he feels bad about himself when he wants to start having sex again.
Then after Buck comes back to the station with the truck, after helping with the little girl, he asks Bobby if he’s giving him another chance and Bobby says he’s out of chances and that he “failed to communicate” how lucky they are to do what they do.
To which Buck answers: “You’re wrong, Bobby. I absolutely do get what a privilege it is to serve here, and you know what? You were right to fire me. I was a punk. I still am one. But I’m a punk who understands what he lost.” I think between that and the “I don’t have anything else.” he said in the roof scene, Bobby should’ve stopped doubting Buck’s commitment to the job.
But he stil thinks throughout the seasons that he doesn’t take it seriously and that it’s all a game for him.
In episode two, you can see once again the potential to this relationship when Buck thinks he’s letting Bobby down and Bobby takes the time to sit with him and explain that it’s okay to feel like that after losing someone and that he should talk to someone. And he helps him past that fear (when he tells him to do the maneuver) because he knows he’s just afraid and needs a little push.
(Also, maybe this is not as important but he says “this is not a family” to Buck, but when they’re in the hospital with Chimney after the rebar thing he says “his family is right here”? Which is it man?)
(Also pt 2, I don’t like tatiana but he was super rude. “this is not about love, it’s about decency”. How about you find a better way to phrase your thoughts bro, because somehow you come out with the rudest thing to say every time.)
In episode three, Buck insists about knowing about his little book and Bobby just, pushes him against the wall?? And everyone is like, okay with it??
In episode fours he relapses (still don’t understand what triggers him?But I guess alcoholism is a complicated thing). Buck and Hen help him and he’s all snappy with Hen.
Now, with the flashbacks you can see how he’s been an alcoholic for years and his wife tells him that she thought he would do everything to stay sober so he “wouldn’t be caught at work again.”
And he says “I’m strong. I’m unbreakable. I’m superman. I go into burning buildings and I come out without a scratch. That’s me.” You can see why he projects so much on Buck, but he’s projecting about the wrong thing.
Buck doesn’t think he’s invincible, he just would do anything to save people. Even put himself in danger. And yeah, thinking he can do anything while in the uniform is something that we see him say but it’s still not the same thing.
(And this is just me being petty about how bland he is but that scene is supposed to be sad and it’s just meh. His wife tells him to leave because she can’t see him and he gives the blandest (and kinda rude considering the situation) “then what?” and when she tells him “I’ll forgive you, just not tonight.” he just goes out again and keeps drinking.)
Also, we know he spent years working while drinking but he can’t let Buck work while just sleeping around
Okay, I kinda lost the episodes’ numbers here but when Buck starts seeing Abby and he asks Bobby for advice, his advice fucking suck.
“Why don’t you try something new, just once, getting to know her.” Now, listen here, my boy Buck wanted that intimacy shit. Remember when he asked for truck girl’s number in episode one? That was him wanting more, but he hadn’t been lucky there so just, meaningless sex was the other option for closeness.
“If you’re interested in her, a woman like that deserves chivalry.”
“Any woman with substance and experience has lived a life and she’s gonna come with some baggage.”
He is the definition of old school sexist. My man, every woman deserves chivalry, okay? And please rethink how you value a woman’s worth, thank you.
(Another comment about episode eight: He was snappy and mad a himself and just drops the bomb on Chim about his plan of killing himself???Go to therapy bro, Chimney did not needed that weight on him.)
Entering season 2 (which doesn’t have that much scenes between them)
Let’s jump directly to the famous “I feel like, if I ever did that, you would yell at me.” that Buck says because he’s so right. He’s always treated like a reckless kid that doesn’t think things through but the fact is that he’s really smart and his plans and the times he’s jumped in to save people have worked out just fine?
You can see the difference between how he treats Buck, who has been working for over a year now, and how he treats Eddie, who is supposedly a probie, from the start.
And as a mutual pointed out not long ago and it stuck with me, Bobby plays favorites and Eddie is clearly his favorite. He can do no wrong and doesn’t need to be told what to do. He has Bobby’s trust without even working for it and Buck, who’s been there working his ass off for the recognition (not the approval) that he is good at his job (because it’s everything for him), gets nothing but being told off over and over.
In Bobby Begins Again we learn that after he almost drank himself to death, Bobby gets sober again and tries to come back as fast as he can to work and he just wants the big boss to make it happen. Doesn’t stop to think maybe he’s not ready yet, he just wants to go back to work to, as he says, “atone for what I’ve done in my own way and if you won’t let me do that then send me some place that will.” (also, again, and example of wanting for things to go his way, no matter what)
He also doesn’t even stop to think about how much he fucked up and that, even though he thinks he’s ready to go back, everyone else might not think that. (Also, other reason as to why he projects so much on Buck)
Then 2.18 happens. Everything starts to go wrong for Buck and good for Bobby.
Bobby goes back to work and Buck has months of recovery after the truck bombing. That was aimed for Bobby. And to which he never apologised or said anything about.
They can’t fire the “guy who was a hero on the 6 o’clock news” but they can not let back the guy that was actually crushed, because the “hero” doesn’t allow it.
He’s looked as a hero but everyone forgets that it happened because of him in the first place.
Season 3:
In episode one, Bobby thinks Buck is ready to come back. Then the blood clots happen and he starts projecting again.
“I thought I could handle it. Lied to everybody, ignored the pain. I don’t want him making the same mistakes that I did. The job should mean a lot, but it shouldn’t mean everything. He’s gotta learn that.”
Buck was out for five? six months? And the blood clots were something he couldn’t see coming. It’s not that a month happened and he wanted to go back, even when he wasn’t fully healed. He did everything right but still, Bobby was projecting through his own past mistakes.
Also “The job should mean a lot, but it shouldn't mean everything. He’s gotta learn that.” Bobby should only be worried about Buck being able to do his job because other people depend on him, not try to teach him some life lesson. And Buck was able to do his job, he passed the recertification, the clots were just a set back. He should’ve been able to come back after healing from that.
Athena sees how Bobby is bringing feelings into it. [“He’s not my kid”]
“No. But he’s also not you. Maybe he’s making the same mistakes you did. Maybe he’s not.”
Bobby says “Just wait and see?” and I thought he would understand and he would let Buck back and wait to see if he actually had a reason behind his doubt.
“You gotta let them grow up sometime.” Athena says, clearly seeing that Bobby is too attached to Buck and does (kinda) try to protect him like a kid.
(Now, from here on I forgot (again) to write down some of the episodes’ numbers so it’s a bit of a blur but I’ll keep talking about how Bobby keeps projecting and lying)
We know that Bobby gets a call to talk about if Buck and his return to work. Let’s keep that in mind for a second.
“It’s the blood thinners. The department is concerned about liability issues and since the doctors haven’t figured out what’s causing the clots.” He lies. Right to his face.
“Well, Buck if we were out on a call and something happened to you…” He acts all concerned about how they can’t be worrying about him while on a call. Let’s remember now how Chimney got a rebar through his head and got stabbed and within a month he was back, and no one was worried about him getting any side effects in the job.
“Then I would have two paramedics standing next to me. I would be fine.”
“They can’t do this to me. You can’t let them take away my job.”
“Out there in the world, helping people. That is where I belong. That is where I have spent five months fighting to get back to. And now you’re gonna tell me that I can’t?”
“I don’t want light duty, okay. And neither would you. I quit.”
Now those are all things Buck said and Bobby, at any moment, could’ve said something like “I was the one to tell them you weren’t ready but as soon as you get cleared, you’ll be back.” But he chose to keep quiet, to keep lying.
And then he dares to say “Buck has us”? Really? Like he wasn’t the actual cause of everything Buck was going through.?
Then Buck goes back for light duty as fire marshall and Bobby says: “For what is worth, I’m proud of you. I’m glad you didn’t throw away your career ‘cause you had a little set back.” (and dares to be annoyed with Buck for how he is as a fire marshall)
“I promise you, your place will still be here for when you’re ready” PROJECTING.
The whole scene with Bobby, Athena and Buck at dinner is Bobby being a coward because he knows what he’s doing is wrong. The projecting and lying.
“You’re not ready, that’s what I told them when they asked.”
“You’re the reason they won’t let me back?” That was a clear question, basically “you told them not to let me back” yet Bobby deflects and denies it’s his fault:
“Medication is the reason.”
Athena tries to help and says “Bobby is just worried about you, that’s all.” and to try and get Buck’s focused anger out of Bobby she says “We all are.” But she made it clear before that she thought he should let Buck back.
“I thought you were my friend.”
“I am your friend. I am also the captain of almost twenty other firefighters whose life and safety depend in the decisions I make and I can’t put them at risk if you’re not operating at 100%...”
“Buck, I know that you went through a lot in that tsunami and maybe you feel like you can survive anything…”
Now, for those last quotes I would like to remember the “I’m strong. I’m unbreakable. I’m superman.” dialogue and the fact that Bobby never cared if Chim was at 100% or if he himself was at 100% when he was asking to go back to work that time in Bobby Begins Again.
Also, that night before Buck tells him about the lawsuit, he still doesn’t apologise.
In episode five, when Athena jokes with Michael about not inviting Buck over anymore because something always happens Bobby says “That sounds like a great idea. None of this would’ve happened if you hadn’t invited him over for dinner.” My initial reaction to this was EXCUSE YOU BITCH??? but what this actually tells me is that he was never planning to tell Buck the truth about him being the reason he couldn’t go back to work.
Now this is both the fucking funniest and the fucking worst thing because this fucker really doesn’t see how wrong his is:
“I don’t treat Buck any differently than I do any other firefighter under my watch.”
And I think even people that do like Bobby can see the bullshit in that.
Buck is literally the only firefighter that gets treated differently. And you’d think that since everyone seems to believe their relationship is “father-son” like it would be a good thing for Buck, but no. He’s the one always getting screwed over while the rest can do whatever they want without any consequences.
And we’re gonna quote the lawyer now because even though he used Buck’s lack of knowledge about how attorney-client relationship works, he makes some pretty on point arguments:
“It’s relevant because it illustrates how everyone except mister Buckley is allowed to return to the job no matter the injury or infarction.”
“You asked my client for his help that day. That’s exactly what he did, without hesitation, he helped you get sobered up and you returned to your full duty as captain of the 118. (...) So isn’t the only difference between your off duty relapse and mister Buckley’s that he actually did everything in his power to help you return to your job?”
I think the city tried to settle the lawsuit with so much money for a reason, don’t you?
You can also see how Buck, the one that was actually affected by what Bobby did, doesn’t hold any resentment towards him and is just glad to be invited to the rage room thing. And is the one to apologise AGAIN, when Bobby hasn’t apologised once.
“Brass didn’t want the headache, they’re afraid of the bad press (...) They gave me the option to transfer you, they understood how I might not want you back after everything you put us through.”
Put them through what? Honestly. Buck was the one crushed. Buck was the one left behind. Buck was the one lied to. Buck was the one doubted and betrayed by one of the people he trusted the most. The rest was put through...? some truth thrown in their faces?
In episode six, Bobby tells Athena “Well, he’s signed every liability waiver and release forum that the department threw at him. Pretty sure we could drop a piano in Buck’s head and he wouldn’t be able to sue the city for it.”
And then later he says “I don’t know what I’m doing. He just, he doesn’t think things through. He acts and reacts and that leaves the rest of us to have to deal with the fall out.” I would like a list of the times Buck did something that actually affected the rest of them in a bad way aside from the lawsuit where everyone was just left with hurt feelings, please and thank you.
Buck takes his job seriously. I would say more than anyone else. Because for Buck the job is the most important thing in his life, unlike the rest of them because they all have families to put first.
Athena, again, because she’s a queen that he doesn’t deserve, sees that Bobby’s just angry and has hurt feelings.
Buck is finally back and of course, because he’s Buck, he doesn’t just shut up and obeys, and Bobby says:
“You know Buck, someday you’re gonna figure out when to stop pushing and learn some patience. I hope we’re both alive to see it.” He’s talking all patronizingly again and he uses the word “learn” (which is something important, they way he always uses that or implies that with Buck) because he still sees Buck as a kid that needs to learn a lesson.
Hen, because she’s another queen, also sees that Bobby is being too emotional and unprofessional with Buck and Bobby says:
“I can see that he’s trying. It just still seems like he doesn’t get it. Like this is all a game to him.” Which honestly, what the actual fuck. Remember that speech Buck gave Bobby in season one when I said that’s the last moment Bobby should’ve thought Buck didn’t take his job seriously? Well, apparently even though he’s been working for two years now, to him, he takes his job less seriously now. Crazy, right?
Hen, beautiful smart and objective queen Hen, explains to him that if it was all a game to Buck, he could be fucking around with the millions (MILLIONS) he was offered on the lawsuit, but that he chose to go back to work and that Bobby is just being selfish (she doesn’t say selfish but we reading between lines here) by holding him back.
Apparently, Bobby kinda gets it and is ready to let Buck back in for real.
Then the scene where Buck helps the lady with the dude in the windshield happens and Bobby is called to the hospital because emergency contact? Buck explains what happened and Bobby, because he’s so fucking rude without even noticing how that makes everyone else (mostly Buck) feel, says:
“‘cause you jumped in and saved him. Probably didn’t even occur to you to worry about yourself.” He says this like Buck just proved to him that he had a reason to not let him back.
“Yeah, I know. I know. I didn’t think, just rushed in like I always do. I guess it’s like, the uniform is my costume. You know, I put it on and suddenly I’m brave and I’m strong and make a difference. Feels like without it I’m not much of anything.” (That last line broke my fucking heart btw) But here you can see Buck knows he’s impulsive, but he’s not really reckless. He can’t help his impulse to save people, it’s who he is. (what bobby isn’t naturally, but that’s another topic we’re not going to talk about right now)
I think here is when Bobby finally starts to understand that Buck is not a kid that doesn’t understand what he has and needs to be taught a lesson.
“Does that mean you are ready to let me back for real?”
“Doesn’t matter if I’m ready, you are. It’s time for me to get out of your way.” This line says a lot. He finally understands that he can’t just hold Buck back because he sees his own mistakes on him and that he was doing that before. Buck is ready and has been ready for a long time but he just now sees that it’s not up to him to decide over Buck’s life like that.
(For this next part we’re going to remember how I said that the only one to ever really suffer the consequences and to be treated differently is Buck)
In episode seven, Bobby finds out Eddie’s been street fighting. He listens to Eddie and understands, doesn’t judge him, doesn’t get mad for putting everyone at risk by coming to work injured. He doesn’t even tell him “hey, maybe you should take some time off and figure your shit out.” He just send him to therapy and lets him keep working like nothing happened.
In episode nine, when Hen hits the girl (as in crashes with the ambulance, yk, not actually hit her), everyone is sure that it’s not her fault and they let her return to duty right away, she’s the one to ask for some time off.
And everyone doesn’t doubt for a second that the accident wasn’t her fault, doesn’t judge her at all. (which is fine because it wasn’t her fault but my point is, would’ve Buck been the one in this situation, I don’t know if it would’ve been as easy to resolve)
When Buck is worried about Bobby and the radiations thing, he asks him how he feels and if he’s hiding symptoms, and Bobby thinks he’s annoying. But maybe that’s what he should’ve done with Buck when he was the one recovering instead of just assuming and lying and keeping him from returning to work.
In episode sixteen, Hen just “felt like breaking every rule in the book” and does what she think is right no matter what (which was actually right and we understand but that’s not the point). We’re gonna add some quotes here:
“You can do what you want, I’m doing this.” She says to Chimney like there was any other option for him.
Everyone praises her and is proud of her. Then Bobby comes in:
“Feels like this is about more than Anton. That girl, the cello player. You’re still thinking about her.”
She knows what she did was wrong and asks “How much trouble am I in?”
“Patient didn’t die. No one’s lodged a complaint. It’s a great save. Don’t do it again.” That's it.
He doesn’t get mad, doesn’t reprimand her, doesn’t suspend her. Doesn’t say “Hey, you just did a really reckless and impulsive thing that broke many rules and I’m sorry but I have to reprimand you . Also, maybe you should take some time off? Go to therapy. Chill. Learn that even though you were right, you can’t just pull that shit at work.”
In episode eighteen, they’re talking about saving Abby’s fiance after Bobby finds out, and I’m going to put the dialogue first and then talk about it.
“Stop. You’re too close to this. This is too risky.”
“Well, I am willing to take the risk.”
“It’s not yours to take. You can’t just rush into any dangerous situation and assume it’s gonna be okay. ´Cause it’s not and I am tired of being on the wrong side of those hospital doors.”
“Bobby, I am not Athena.”
“What did you just say to me?”
Well, first of all, his priority should be doing the job, saving as many people as they can. Buck is WILLING to take the risk to save both people and it is his to take. And not only because he promised to Abby he would save Sam, but because it’s who he is. He saves people, no matter the risk for him. (which again, three(? years of knowing him and Bobby still doesn’t understand)
Also Bobby, hun, if you’re tired of seeing your team (and Athena) in the hospital, maybe you should reconsider your life choices because you’re captain of a group of people that literally puts themselves in harm’s way to help other people for a living.
In conclusion, Bobby is kind of a hypocrite that projects a lot, is immature, resentful and has issues expressing how he feels properly, most of these things are always directed at Buck and that’s why I don’t like him and their relationship.
You have reached the end! Amazing. This was a really long rant honestly but I believe everything I wrote here, so hopefully y’all understand my perspective and I don’t gain haters for this
I think I make some pretty good points.
Okay, if you really read all that, thank you! It took me a long time lol
(Tagging you because you asked: @angelcamael) (And my girl @himbo-buckley who is always there to listen to me rant about this)
#can y'all see what i mean by this?#like bobby had potential#but he's just anoter boring entitled white man#and his and buck's relationship is just so wrong#and weird#and we do not stand bobby in this house#is this a meta?#i'm going to tag this as a meta because you say this is a meta boo#meta#911 meta#bobby meta#buck meta#anti bobby nash#evan buckley#911 fox#fuck bobby meta
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Suck Me Out
Ships: Intrulogical, some Intruloceit
Characters: Remus Sanders, Logan Sanders, Janus Sanders (minor character), Roman Sanders (minor character), Virgil Sanders (minor character), Patton Sanders (minor character)
TW: Self-harm, choking, autoerotic asphyxation (not really though), depression, self-deprecation, I don’t want to spoil but if any of those previous tags bother you even a little, I suggest you don’t read this (I’ll tag the spoiler, though), cursing
Words: 1,716
Summary: Remus wouldn't expect them to understand. He's intrusive thoughts, god of kinks. Of course they wouldn't see it. But once in a while he wished they would.
"I'm serious, Logan," Remus gestured to his tightly adorned garment, "necktie."
Logan rolled his eyes at his boyfriend. "When you're done with your kinks, join us for movie night. We finally get to watch a documentary."
Remus shrugged and pulled tighter the pretty blue tie that had previously been on Logan's neck. His face was purple from the cutoff of blood and his hand struggled to keep grip. He began to tilt backwards a little towards the wall before Logan took his arm and pried away the tie.
"Remus, stop. You're gonna fall."
"But it feels so good."
Logan only sighed in response and reclaimed the tie around his own neck, leading Remus to the living room.
Roman was the first to speak out of the welcoming mumbles.
"Remus, save your arousal for night time. We're trying to watch a fun movie about space," though he seemed skeptical of the amount he could enjoy a documentary.
Patton scolded the two of them for mentioning such subjects, but swiftly put on the movie anyway.
Virgil and Roman became surprisingly enamored in the science of black holes and their possible opposite, white holes. Logan excitedly paused it at multiple points to fawn over or elaborate on some of the research like a child. Remus, however, sat leaning against Logan, staring mindlessly at the television.
What if I was in a black hole?
Remus tried to shake the thought off, but it was persistent.
If black holes lead to white ones that spit you out into another universe, could my world here end?
Maybe he'd be happy in this other universe. Something in his brain would change and the sadness would be gone. Or maybe it'd be traumatic.
"...Remus!"
"Huh?"
"I paused the movie to see if you were alright. You did not seem to notice when I did."
"Yeah, I'm, I'm fine. Think I'll just…" mumbling off something about the bathroom.
The minute he left he felt lonely. And stupid. Lonely and stupid. He shouldn't have let them see that. Now Logan's gonna be concerned because there's obviously something wrong. He stared intently at the mirror.
Ugly. They hate me.
What if he said that to them? He'd be guilt-tripping them and he'd be a terrible person. Even thinking it , he's a terrible person. Die.
His arms flashed to his neck, grabbing as tight as possible. His balance began failing…
No, he can't do that. Then he worries them and they don't need that. How does he even know death is better than this?
Thomas doesn’t need him. Thomas doesn’t want him. His mental health would be better if he never even existed. Thomas doesn’t deserve what he does.
I want to fix that.
He can't help but cry. Muffled shrieks that must sound like moans from the living room. Sharp breaths that must sound like enjoyment slip out. Hits to his arms and legs that only add to the many bruises sound disgusting to them.
But none of it is.
Sure, they have good reason to believe that Remus has some kinks, he is indeed mostly intrusive thoughts, which he’d admit is related to kinks, but he half-wished they wouldn't assume. He didn't really want them to know, but it killed him to be constantly alone about it.
Alone.
Forever alone.
Logan, Patton, Roman, and Virgil. They’re the “light sides.” Of course he’s happy Janus got accepted, but… he doesn’t get that. He probably never will.
Fuck it.
He tiptoed his way to his bedroom, ceiling adorned with a hook in preparation. On a day easier than this, he’d drilled it for today. Under his bed sat a box holding the rope, paper, and pen he’d carefully hidden. He thanked his previous self.
Tying the noose, his ears kept open for visitors wondering where he was. Before he hung himself at last, he wrote.
I’m sorry.
Patton, Virgil, I love you. Janus, I love you. My brother, I love you. And Logan. I love you. Thank you for caring.
But it wasn’t a kink.
He questioned if he should refer to Roman as his brother, and decided at last to do it. He didn’t want to alienate him as he died. He’d never get to tell him again.
I’m glad this is the end. I wasn’t needed.
He kicked the chair from under him.
Thomas will be happier without me.
As the rope constricted, relief and fear washed over him.
They all will.
“Remus!”
--
His throat hurt.
“Remus?”
He then noticed he could see a face. A beautiful face.
Logan?
“L-”
As soon as he tried to speak, his throat stopped him. Logan took his cheek in comfort.
“It’s okay, Remus. We found you. You’re going to be okay.”
He looked around to find he was sitting on his soft bed, pillows piled behind his head. The rope, and the hook were both gone. A drill, that had presumably been used to remove the hook, sat on the far dresser.
“We found your note.” It was Roman this time.
“I’m so sorry we ever thought it was a kink. We should have talked to you.” Logan’s eyes were gazing prettily at Remus’s.
“-”
He was reminded he couldn’t speak, so pointed to the paper on which his note was, and made a writing motion. Logan soon obliged to his wishes, though getting a different paper. Remus began to write. Again.
You had good reason to think it was.
He smiled a bit, and would have laughed, when Roman and Logan read this. They didn’t seem as amused as he was, and only looked worried. He flailed his arms to get the paper back.
Y’all don’t understand my sense of humor.
Where’s everyone else?
Logan beckoned to the door and Janus, Virgil, and Patton came in. Seeing Janus’s scales, his beautiful face… he never did get to ask him out.
Janus.
Logan brought him over while Remus wrote his message.
Probably not the best time, but I’d like to take this opportunity to tell you that both me and Logan have a crush on you.
“What?”
His human side grew red. Someone, who you like, who’s just attempted suicide telling you they want to date you is a very odd feeling.
“Remus, what did you-” Logan attempted to look at his message to Janus, and immediately shut up when he saw it.
Can I talk to Virgil now?
Virgil had been snickering in his corner, seemingly able to read the paper. He stopped as soon as he was called, putting on a more serious face.
Sorry Janus pushed you down the stairs.
“Wh- you’re not going to say some sad thing about me leaving the dark sides and you getting depressed? Just apologizing for Janus?”
I’m not going to blame it on you. It was Janus who pushed you down the stairs. And my idea.
“I’d call you an asshole but you’ve just attempted suicide and this is your daily personality.”
Remus made peace signs before requesting to talk to Patton, who unsurprisingly apologized over and over for treating Remus like a piece of shit. He did need to apologize, but Remus knew he was making an effort. Even if it wasn’t going very well.
Hey Ro-Ro, my bro-bro.
Roman also apologized.
I mean we were literally split for you to be the “good” brother and me to be the “bad” one. If anything that made it the worst.
Roman had nothing to do but give him a hug.
Logan,
could I have a kiss?
Logan smiled and kissed Remus lightly on the cheek. He was pretty sure it wasn’t a good idea to kiss someone on the lips if they’d been frothing at the mouth.
That was tiny!
He would have gone to cuddle and kiss Remus more if no one else had been there. For now, Remus hugged everyone individually until they dispersed.
Thankfully, Logan was put on watch duty, to make sure Remus really was feeling better, as he seemed, and wouldn’t try anything.
Logan pressed kisses to Remus’s forehead, cheeks, and nose. His warmth bled onto Remus, who desperately needed it. Logan’s eyes were beautiful. His arms wrapped around him. He felt safe. Remus snuggled into the affection, nearly happy he’d attempted suicide and been found. But-
He picked up the pen and paper again, reluctant to let go.
Logan, what if I did that because I wanted attention?
“Hey, Remus, no. You did it because everyone’s been against you. It’s made you feel like you don’t matter. But you do. We need you. Even if you did because of attention, it was because you needed attention. It’s okay if you wanted attention. If you were willing to go to… those lengths just to get attention, you needed it.”
Logan
thank y-
Remus’s eyes filled with bittersweet tears before he managed to finish writing, and he clutched Logan tight. He let go again to tell him more.
I felt so horrible. I still feel so horrible. I’m sorry I acted so happy when I wasn’t. I know you care but I shouldn’t be here. All I do is hurt Thomas. Now I’ll hurt him even more because I failed. He’s going to feel like shit. I’d pull out my own organs and put them in my horrible person pile if I could. It would have been okay if I’d succeeded. I’m so sorry if you would’ve missed me, but I can’t keep hurting Thomas. If I would’ve died he would have been fine, but I failed so-
Remus sobbed into Logan’s arms again, laying as close as possible, feeling his warmth, his body as much as possible. His boyfriend rubbed his hand over his back, arms, through his hair. He was starting to cry a little as well. He felt so horrible that he hadn’t helped how Remus felt.
“Remus, if a part of Thomas died, he’d have a piece of himself missing. It may not seem like Thomas wants or needs you, but you’re a part of him nonetheless.”
What do I do?
“Remus,” Logan turned his boyfriend’s face gently to look him in the eyes, “all you need to do is stay alive.”
What if I can’t?
“I'll be with you. As long as you need. You stay alive as long as you can.”
#sanders sides#sanders side fic#remus sanders#logan sanders#intrulogical#intruloceit#ts remus#ts logan#deceit sanders#janus sanders#ts deceit#ts janus#roman sanders#ts roman#virgil sanders#ts virgil#patton sanders#ts patton#HERES THE TRIGGER WARNING:#tw suicide#sucide attempt#tw suicide attempt#tw self harm#tw kink#think thats it#grays fics
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By The Lake* Part One
Summary: A family friend offers you a place to stay to get away from an abusive past. Her home is a place that you are familiar with, an old town with a large lake you spent many days in. You went there years ago for one full summer, where you became close friends with a very young Daryl Dixon. You two were inseparable until you had to leave. But now you’re back, escaping from a past much like his. You will need to weave your way through the town's problematic people, your own problems, and above all the confusing Dixon. Will you two find your way back to each other again? Or will he push you further away? And above all, will your past cease to haunt you?
Part Two * Part Three * Part Four * Part Five
Pairing: Young Daryl Dixon x Reader
Warnings: Mentions of abuse and violence(potential triggers), cussing, more mature themes(not smut or anything tho), slow burn romance
Authors Note: Daryl Dixon is a character from the amazing show The Walking Dead, but this story is modern AU so not with all the walkers and everything. I don’t own and I didn’t create his character. Also this story is in no means meant to romanticize abuse, that stuff isn’t romantic. It is such a terrible, terrible thing, but it is sadly a very common thing as well. Throughout this series I only hope that I can spread awareness about the matter, and let people know that they aren’t alone, things will get better, and that no one is deserving of any kind of abuse. Ever. Anyways, I’m done with my rant, I hope y’all like it, and if not please send in some constructive criticisms I’m always looking to improve.
Word Count: 1.7k
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I can’t help the dumb smile that spreads across my face, and I can’t help but think of all that is changing. It felt like I could breathe again, that maybe everything will turn out alright. It has been weeks with nothing bad happening, weeks of trying to stop the burning question of “but for how long?” from ruining my mood.
“What are you smiling so big for?” Cherry, my moms best friend and my god mom, stared at me from the drivers side. Before I could answer she cut me off. “Excited to see Daryl again?” She sent me a large wink, and her smile almost matched mine. I shake my head with a loud laugh, and turn to look out the window again. Hopefully she won’t see me blushing.
“God Cherry, we were 13.”I say. She laughs too, her shoulders lazily move up into a shrug.
“Whatever you say.” I glare at her jokingly, and she pokes my side, the car moving dangerously close to the right. She laughs nervously and a small “oops” slips from her lips, before she continues on torturing me. “Well, he is real cute now. A bit quite though, but then again, he always kind of was huh?” You nod silently, watching the tall trees pass in a blur.
Daryl always was so quite, it took you nearly the whole summer to get him to string together a whole sentence. But once you did, nothing could stop him from being with you. Sure, he’d never rant to you or anything, but he’d hold good conversations and what he didn’t tell you, you found easy to pick up on how he acted around you. But this was years ago. You wonder how much has changed, and if you’ll ever be that close with him again?
“Mark ask’s him over sometimes, to work on this old car he bought, ya know just for some help. He’d always ask about you.” We share a look and I stare at my lap soon after, a blanket wrapped around me for the long drive. She must have noticed my behavior because she quickly kept going, enjoying making me blush. “Cute lil thing he is, he’d always work up a blush. ‘How’s (Y/N) doing?’ or ‘(Y/N), she alright?’” She shook her head with a wide smile, but I stare at her with something like horror on my face. I try to calm myself before asking.
“What did you tell him?” He smile drops, her grip on the wheel tighter than before.
“Not the truth. Said you were doing good.” It was silent, her knuckles turned white. “He’d ask about you and Carter...” Her voice trailed off venomously, before giving me a comforting look. “We tell him it’s nothing he has to worry about.” I nod my head. It felt weird for me to thank her for lying for me, but I do anyway. Daryl knowing bout everything, when we haven’t seen or been close to each other in years seems weird, like it would be a burden.
I’m 18 now, Daryl would’ve just turned 19. You blush of thinking of how good looking he must be now. You always found him cute, but 13 was too young to do anything bout it. Although you’d never admit it out loud, you always liked him. He was good to you. Better than your actual boyfriend...
“You okay, honey?” Cherry’s voice breaks the silence, and thankfully your thoughts. You run a hand down your face with a tight smile.
“Just tired, that’s all.” Her smile faded faster than you would have liked it too. You looked into her eyes just in time to catch the glistening pity in them before she faced the road again. She knew your situation, everything you’ve been through.
“I’ll tell the kids not to bug ya then. Let ‘cha rest up first, yeah?” I thank her but decline and face the window once again. I hated sleeping in the car, always preferred watching out the window and thinking bout things instead. But maybe I should try, I wouldn’t want to make the kids sad. I loved those two boogers. Cherry had two little kids with her husband Mark. One little boy named Monty, and a little girl they named Rosie. I don’t even know how old they are now. When I was there for the summer with my family so many years ago, Rosie was just born.
“How old are they now?” I blush, almost ashamed of not knowing. But I can hardly keep track of my life, let alone everyone elses. She puts a hand on my knee, and squeezes it. Instantly, I feel better, and talking about her kids obviously made her feel better too.
“Monty is 8, and Rosie is 5! Monty just got super into dinosaurs, and we can’t keep Rosie out the lake. She just learned how to swim, she got so big...”I listen to her drawl on about her kids with a sweet, unbothered feeling. My excitement grows as she continues to tell me about them, and we are getting closer to their house. Finally we pull into the familiar town, only about 15 minutes from her house now, which would mean we are only 26 minutes from Daryl’s. I try not to think of him, or how nervous I am to see my old close friend, or what goes down in that house.
I knew about what his father did to him, or I think I did. He never told me about it but sometimes he’d stop by the old cabin on Cherry’s property where my mom and I stayed, and he’d be crying. We’d sit by the lake in silence, sometimes I’d be hugging him and tracing the lumps and scars under his clothes, other times I’d catch a glimpse of a bruise on his face in the moonlight. But whenever I’d ask, he’d push me away and I wouldn’t see him for a few days after, or until he seemed alright and I was dumb enough to believe that. At my age and time in my life I never knew how bad it was. Not until the same thing happened to me. I never should have left Daryl there, knowing all that I did. How can I face him again with all this guilt? I was a terrible friend...
I feel an unwelcome burn in the back of my eyes and throat right as we pass the ice cream parlor, the car pulled into the parking lot and I smiled brightly. Wiping at my eyes for a brief second before looking at Cherry with raised eyebrows.
“Thought I’d treat ya.” She chuckles at my expression.
“Giving me a place to live isn’t enough?” I laugh out, she laughs too and we climb out of the car. I leave the blanket in the seat, I’d rather die than have anyone here see me with a baby blue fuzzy thing wrapped around my waist.
We step inside and Cherry says a few quick hello’s, and introduces me to some of her friends in there. We grab our ice cream but I recognize an older couple from that blissful summer.
“Mr.Henderson right?” I stop a older looking man from walking out the door, I put my hand out and he takes it with a hint of uncertainty. His eyes scan me for any familiarity. They land on my hair, and then deep in my eyes, his face lights up, before I could tell him who I am he beats me to it.
“(Y/N) (Y/L/N)!” He pulls me into a hug, careful not to get chocolate ice cream in my hair. “I don’t believe it! Look at how grown you are! Sharron get over here.” He waves his wife over joyfully from the car, she gives him a loving smile before shaking her head at me.
“I’m sorry dear, I don’t reco-” She gasped mid-sentence and pulled me into a hug. She looked back at Mr.Henderson. “This is (Y/N) honey!” He nods at her and she looks back at me grabbing at my hair and twirling it around her finger. I flinch when her fingers first reached for me but she didn’t seem to notice, I’m glad. “Look how beautiful...” She hugs me again.
Mr. and Mrs. Henderson are Cherry’s neighbors, about half a mile out. I used to drag Daryl over there with me so we could grab some of their infamous lemonade every afternoon. We’d stay there for hours and hang out in their tire swing, and their side of the lake has a huge flat rock by the shore. Daryl and I used to lay on it in the hot sun. Mrs.Henderson used to joke that if we weren’t careful we’d cook like eggs. I haven’t seen them since that last summer day, when I went looking for Daryl to say goodbye.
Cherry politely pulled her off me, and gave them a stern look.
“(Y/N)’s a bit tired, I was just about to take her home.”She said. Mrs.Henderson looked at the empty ice cream cup in my hand and frowned.
“Well she can’t sleep with a tum full of ice cream. See Cherry, this is why your kids never sleep on time. You ain’t feedin’ em right.” Cherry raised an eyebrow and looked at her wordlessly, lips pulled tight.
“Well, it was so nice to see you again. But we really should be going, and Mrs.Henderson, this ice cream never gave me any problems before.” I wink and pull Cherry away from them before they start brawling. Mom always got along better with the Henderson's than Cherry did, and they weren’t even our neighbors. I guess that could be why.
Mrs.Henderson grabs my elbow making me tense up. “oh but don’t go. Daryl just got here...look.” Her hand left my elbow and she pointed down the street to a young man that I don’t recognize, walking stiffly towards us. He’s tall, with broad shoulders and arms that looked good in his sleeveless shirt.
As if sensing our eyes on him, he looks up. My mouth slacks as I stare back into his startling blue eyes, the same ones that belong to Daryl Dixon. Daryl stops walking and stares at me, his eyes trail slowly down my body, and back up to my eyes. His face wide with shock, quickly morphs into a scowl. He shakes his head bitterly, brown hair falling on his forehead, and turns around, walking away from us in quick strides.
Out of all the ways I imagined us meeting again, that was not one of them. I can’t help myself from wondering what the hell that was all about?
#daryl fanfiction#daryldixon#daryl dixon#daryl dixon imagine#daryl dixon x reader#the walking dead#twd#romance#angst#teen romance#young norman reedus#young daryl dixon#daryldixon fanfic#daryl dixon/reader#daryl dixon & reader#daryl imagine
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Conspicuous Media Consumption, 2020
it’s that time of year again! *saddest toot from the party horn*
for those of you just joining us: it’s a “consume a different content every week for 48 weeks of the year” challenge. for a longer explanation, check out last year’s write-up here, and as always, feel free to pop in and ask questions about any and all of this content.
(same disclaimer as last year too: content for this project ONLY here, and not certain...*looks at my billion Sad Cop Lady posts*...hyperfixations.)
(man remember when i was big into X-Men comics earlier this year? better times than these, if only because no one's discoursing about Emma Frost’s woobie/war criminal ratio anymore--her w/w, if you will)
(...i swear at one point i didn’t exclusively like platinum blondes but alas)
Bitter Root (comic, 1 issue finished 1/1/2020): still very cool on a basic concept level, but runs into the Image Comics problem of just not having enough content to keep my interest beyond that. part of that is on me, for picking it up again BEFORE the second arc rolled out, but the first five issues didn’t really follow (or resolve) any cohesive story either, so...meh.
Immortal Hulk (comic, 3 trades finished 1/17/2020): still not gonna be something i care deeply about (maybe one of Bruce’s Hulksonas dyed his hair???), but i do want to give kudos to Al Ewing for sheer consistency in terms of sustaining this level of quality storytelling month by month for more than two years now. working with the dense archive of the Hulk mythos and managing to make it interesting and thoughtful is impressive even if i personally would not expend the same effort.
Disco Elysium (game, finished 1/18/2020): honestly i should have twigged onto what this year was gonna be like when the third thing i drew from the barrel was pure uncut Eastern European flavored depression. i faintly recall people ragging on it for being pretentiously cynical, but i actually thought its core slid more towards idealism than people give it credit for. also gratified that i haven’t heard anything about Robert Kurvitz using slave labor to finish it, which is a thing we have to say about our video games now!!! fun.
Watchmen (TV, 7 episodes finished 1/27/2020): i am a fool who wants to believe in Damon Lindelof and I WAS RIGHT!!! honestly still cannot believe that he pulled off this highwire act with such deft aplomb. might be my favorite TV this year, which is a pretty high bar given how much TV i ended up watching.
On a Sunbeam (comic, finished 2/1/2020): Tillie Walden rightly deserves all the praise for inventive queer storytelling, but i will say that on reread--since i first read this as a webcomic--there ARE some issues with pacing here that clearly come from the foibles of its original intended medium. still just excellent, even if after some plot significant haircuts i was having trouble telling a few folks apart.
Lazarus (comic, 1 trade finished 2/8/2020): it’s so good and i want moooooorrrreee--though obviously Rucka and Lark have the right to take all the time they need. the newer longer issues work really well with the epic prestige drama vibes of the story! i’m into it.
The Good Place (TV, 4 seasons finished 2/18/2020): i’m gonna be super honest: i actually wasn’t a big fan of the finale, nor the last season as a whole. it felt like all of Eleanor’s flaws vanished for a majority of the season, and the Chidi-centric episode where they tried to give a legible justification for why he’s Like This was...i didn’t care for it. still, it’s so good and unique on the WHOLE that we’ll literally never get anything like this ever again, and that counts for a lot.
The Old Republic (game, finished 2/21/2020): it’s an MMO so it will never actually Be Finished so long as the servers aren’t shut down, but i caught up on the content i’d missed in the intervening months. Onslaught thus far has mostly been...kinda bland tbh; going back to Imps vs. Rebs after all the shakeups in the previous expansions feels like a waste.
High Road (album, finished 2/22/2020): someone should tell Kesha not to say that word!! otherwise i was very happy with this album, and happy FOR her even though we don’t know each other. being able to find joy again in the same genre of music you made while you were being horrifically exploited is very cool.
Young Justice (TV, 13 episodes finished 2/28/2020): given how much the middle stuff dragged--STOP KILLING YOUR HIJABI CHARACTER IN HORRIFIC WAYS--i was...actually kinda mad by how the end managed to stick the landing anyway. the day being saved by Vic’s self-acceptance and Violet’s sublime compassion was A+, and even the Brion/Tara switchup was a pleasant surprise, though it relied on me caring about Brion MUCH MORE than i actually did.
Manic (album, finished 2/29/2020): do people still care for/about Halsey? i feel like even That One Song that was on every tumblr gifset ever has kinda faded into obscurity at this point. this album was...okay. i feel like people give Halsey a pass for extremely obvious lyrical turns that they wouldn’t for other folks because of her subject material--which is fine. not really my cup of tea, but i also listened to lots of Relient K this year, so that’s probably a good thing.
Jade Empire (game, 3/10/2020): the only 3D-era Bioware game that didn’t franchise out, and for good fucking reason!!! the Orientalism and appropriation really haven’t aged well, and even beyond that the story was...standard Bioware faire. even my usual “my wife’s a bitch i love her” Bioware type didn’t do it for me, and i just ended up romancing no one. it did make me think a lot about what level of cultural borrowing is accepted nowadays, and why: people still look fondly at Avatar and talk about how ~accurate and respectful it was, for example, despite it being staffed almost entirely by white folks, and the Orientalism ALL OVER the monk class in DND is still fine for some reason.
Alif the Unseen (book, finished 3/31/2020): interesting to have read this AFTER reading The Bird King last year, because it highlights how the intervening years have shifted G. Willow Wilson’s thematic interest and improved her craft. i’m actually quite fond of how her characterization work is rougher here--Alif is extremely flawed to the point of being insufferable, but it makes his development by the end more satisfying. Dina is also just good and i love her
Baldur’s Gate (2 games, finished 5/31/2020): well, having finally finished the series i’m happy to say that it...still doesn’t really do it for me, sorry. any awesome story moments were overshadowed by the EXCRUCIATING inventory management system and the combat (i still don’t know what a THAC0 is and at this point i’m afraid to find out). these games crucially lack the Home Base that later Bioware games were so good about, and that (coupled with the huge cast of characters you can drop off and never see again) really hurts the intimacy for me. by the time we finally did get one it was the Hell Dimension in Throne of Bhaal, and i was just...trying to get through it. (yes, i did just say that about one of the most beloved expansions ever to one of the most beloved games ever.) THIS particular iteration of “my wife’s a bitch i love her” was very good, but the game wouldn’t let me romance her :(
The Underground Railroad (book, finished 6/19/2020): honestly what is there even left to say at this point! it was exactly as good as every critic on the planet said it was, even with my usual aversion to hype. draining and horrifying in turns but still insistent upon a future for Black folks.
Steven Universe (6 seasons and a mooooooviiieeee, finished 7/11/2020): yes, i DID finish the show and almost immediately begin a rewatch. this series is now one of my top five most formative things, and the amount of love and respect i have for it is incalculable. that said: i once again did not love how the central conflict of Future was resolved (just the resolution--i loved the finale just fine). for all of Steven’s breakdown was built up, resolving it with “EVERYONE HUG HIM UNTIL HE CRIES” felt...cheap, especially since up until this point the show had been so good about treating trauma and mental illness with the respect and nuance it deserves. it made me wish some of the earlier, less substantial episodes had been cut so we could spend more time at the end.
What It Is (comic, finished 8/19/2020): y’all i love Lynda Barry SO MUCH. for the longest time i was worried that One Hundred Demons was more a lightning in a bottle situation but every book of hers i pick up makes me feel obscure emotions i didn’t even realize existed. the compassionate way she’s able to describe her child self and how weird and fucked up she was (and still is) is honestly aspirational.
She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (TV, 5 seasons finished 9/26/2020): so here’s a reversal of what i’ve been complaining about with other shows: i was mostly lukewarm-to-warm about She-Ra, but the later seasons and the finale made me much more into it as a whole. more shows should improve in stakes and overall quality as they age tbh!! i still don’t actively love Catradora (my sole quibble with season 5 actually has to do with the way Adora kept backsliding as a character to make certain Plot/Relationship things happen), but i’m very happy for them nonetheless. i can certainly appreciate a show that will go for High Feeling over tight plot. dark horse standout moments: trees growing everywhere proving that Perfuma Was Right, and Hordak and Adora seeing each other--that weirdly intimate moment of recognition.
Fetch the Bolt Cutters (album, finished 10/7/2020): again i find myself not having much to say that no one else has said. it’s good! once again love it when an artist reclaims something they’d attached with negative affect (anxiety, depression, disordered eating) for better and brighter things.
Solutions and Other Problems (comic, finished 10/25/2020): i was very into Allie Brosh’s ambition with this book, which feels weird to say but i stand by it. it’s cool to see an artist try to make a new medium work for them instead of just sticking to what already works. not all the experimentation was 100% effective, but it was still delightful and occasionally devastating to read, so.
Legend of Zelda (3 games: Ocarina of Time, Majora’s Mask, Link Between Worlds, finished 11/1/2020): this was the third time i’d played Ocarina of Time, which made it the nice, comforting groove i settled into before Majora’s Mask blatted me in the face. i’m not usually a completionist Zelda person because...the gameplay in Zelda is bad, do not at me it just is, but i really felt like i HAD to be one for Majora’s Mask since the whole point is to get attached to the banalities of the town. i’m sure nobody’s surprised that i loved it, even if it gave me an existential crisis about how life goes on in the game for NPCs when you’re not there to save them from it, and there’s not enough time to save them all all the time (also not a surprise to anyone: Romani and Cremia gave Personal Feelings). Link Between Worlds...bad. not like in a “this is a bad story by every measurable gauge” way, but i was already struggling with the 2D playstyle shift enough that for the whole story to end with some “yes it’s v sad that Lorule is Like This but trying to steal Hyrule’s privilege is Even Worse Actually” noblesse oblige bullshit left a VERY poor taste in my mouth, this year of all years. i did audibly gasp when Ravio took off his mask, though. i’m currently playing Breath of the Wild in cautious increments; it’s the first time i’ve enjoyed early Zelda gameplay, but if they wanted fully voiced cutscenes i wish they got voice actors who...knew what words sound like.
folklore (album, finished 11/6/2020): my belief that Taylor Swift is Just Fine continues, i’m afraid. i LIKED this album, don’t get me wrong, and respect her constant drive to innovate, but i didn’t love it substantially more or less than any other Taylor Swift album. mostly i’m just tickled by how she thinks leaning into the indie aesthetic means borrowing Vita Sackville-West’s entire wardrobe, though i will admit to feeling Something when she swore in a song. i think it was like. savage vindication?? you go ahead and swear, Taylor Swift. you deserve it.
Shore (album, finished 11/19/2020): do people still care about the Fleet Foxes? i think there was some Drama with Josh Tillman a while back but i don’t remember where the discourse landed with who was being more problematic. it was nostalgic for me to listen to their new album--made me remember being an undergrad who exclusively listened to men who mumbled and played acoustic guitar all over again.
Star Wars (3 movies: original trilogy, finished 11/27/2020): there is So Much bad Star Wars these days that every time i rewatch the original trilogy i’m afraid that they will suddenly be bad, but guess what! they’re not. i love these children and their hot mess stories, i love that Lando doesn’t know how to say his best friend’s name. what stood out to me this time was the way Obi-Wan described the Force in A New Hope, which strongly implied that ANYONE can be Force Sensitive; that obviously faded with each subsequent movie, but part of me does wish they’d kept it.
X of Swords (comics, 22 issues finished 12/5/2020): i am enjoying Hickman’s X-lines!!! not so much here for the Grand Conspiracy or whatever, but the character work and highkey weirdness is fabulous--they FEEL like X-Men, despite all the shakeups in-universe. this crossover is a nice microcosm of all that: grandiloquently all over the place, but still full of cool standout moments and genuine hilarity. ILLYANA DOESN’T KNOW HOW TO SPELL MAGIC.
Fire Emblem (4 games: Sacred Stones, Path of Radiance, Radiant Dawn, Awakening, finished 12/14/2020): this was the thing that i was closest to giving up early on, but i ended up hyperfixating on it instead. that’s a credit to what the gameplay does to my lizard brain more than anything else, because the story and character writing is...insipid. it was very bizarre to witness this franchise blunder around with its animal-people racism allegory around the same time i was getting back into RWBY, and ITS animal-people racism allegory blunders. Awakening was the first time i felt anything for the franchise beyond “teehee red units disappear make exp bar go up and brain go ding,” so i’m excited for more mature storytelling in subsequent games (they MUST get better. they MUST). the child husbandry thing is...very bad tho, and Apotheosis being “challenging” entirely through the game changing all the rules is also bad.
once again no vidya games that came out this year--i’ll probably pick up Spiritfarer or Hades after the New Year, though (or maybe TLOU II! but probably not. sry Laura and Ashley). more TV and franchises this year, which made me feel In Touch with the Children but was also kinda exhausting. nothing was so egregiously terrible i dropped it without finishing! in a year like this that feels almost like an accomplishment
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maria watches friday night lights (#4)
season 2, pt 2!! (2x08-2x15)
ugh Matt is really having his Being A Stupid Teenage Boy season huh?
-lol love a good naked dude being chased scene — in this case, Smash on his recruiting trip being chased around by a potential future teammate. Classic.
(it’s kinda cute that Matt came to pick him up tho)
- the latest in season 2 being off the fucking rails: really? Riggins’ new digs include a meth lab on wheels??
-Landry confessing to murdering someone and then having his sheriff dad drag him out of the station to go home is the whitest shit EVER. Like, Landry is literally *trying* to be punished and they just won’t punish his white, cop-kid ass. ‘Murica. (I mean don’t get me wrong: it WAS self defense against someone literally stalking and trying to rape Tyra, but the point still stands that if Landry was a black kid he’d have been tried as an adult and convicted no doubt)
-YESSSSS a MySpace shoutout! we love to see it
“I hate you” - Santiago (and also me) @ Buddy Garrity
-omg Coach Taylor noticing that things aren’t good at home for Riggins and taking him in, my heart!
-Wow in just one scene Riggins charmed baby Grace, warned Tami’s sister not to shame women for eating a lot (“it can lead to anorexia, especially in girls”) and then offered to go out to the store to get baby formula in the pouring rain. What a man.
-and yes, Shelly, you fully grown woman, it IS a bad idea to lust after a TEENAGE BOY
-wow Riggins protecting Julie from the SUPER DRAMATIC TORNADO that made me laugh. Do we get to have a Riggins-Julie friendship??? bc I’d be down. We need more friendships.
-Thank you, Tami, saying “EW” to her sister watching Riggins work out! Someone has sense to know a fully grown woman shouldn’t be lusting after a teenager! Julie can lust if she wants tho, that’s age appropriate.
-DYING at Landry being aghast that Tyra’s never heard of West Side Story.
-oh god, Lyla — it is totally fair to assume your mom would tell your dad she’s getting remarried, especially if she knew you’d be seeing him — so I’m sorry you’re the one who accidentally set off whatever nonsense Buddy is gonna pull now that he knows his ex wife is “marrying that treehugger.”
“Who’s that?” “Some douchebag named Chip. who names their kid Chip anyway?” Same, Tyra, same.
-Landry, one of my biggest pet peeves is asking someone out while they’re on the clock. Like, come on! let Tyra work, boy.
-Jesus Christ it’s like everywhere Julie looks, she has to see Matt making out with someone. That’s rough.
-and oop Matt you busted bc Julie actually knows who Carlotta is!
-once a cheater, always a cheater, Buddy. And yes to Pam for being like “nah bye I’m happy now, it is over.” You treated her like garbage so here we are, sir!
-hilarious that Landry is the one who ends up throwing the first punch that gets the post-tornado, school-crossover tensions to finally boil over
-I like that they show both the fall formal and the party where everyone who didn’t go to the formal is. Nice.
-Aw poor Julie got drunk af to deal with all her feelings. This really is the season where they have Julie and Matt being sixteen year olds in the most painful ways. So maybe it’s good they’re not together during this tho I’m still looking forward to when the tide turns their way again.
-anyway, Tim is a good friend for getting the creep who thought he was “one beer away from getting laid” off of Julie.
-And....in true Texas dad fashion, Eric Taylor misinterprets everything! Noooo. We can’t have nice things.
-This Noelle-Smash partnership is definitely an interesting pairing. Two very ambitious football people courting all these recruiters while Smash’s mom side eyes them in the corner? Hilarious.
-omg not this Oklahoma tech recruiter harassing smash’s mom in the grocery store! GTFO here! Give her some fucking personal space. They really do such a good job of showing as much of the toxic shit about football culture as the inspiring, big moments.
-Aw and I love that Tami tried to help Mama Smash get the guy to go away. It’s such a familiar scene, women helping each other get a dude harassing them away. And then they have a heart to heart in the parking lot? Love that.
-omg what a throwback that Shelly TAPED OVER Eric’s football game to tape a NEW EPISODE of The Office! Love it. “Y’all should get a TiVo.”
-omg watching Tami and Eric work out arguments is so beautiful, they communicate very well! We stan a good marriage.
-wow seeing the other coach from tornado school lose his shit publicly after he knocked down Riggins was uh....wild???? This is the second time he put his hands on Riggins!
-awww Eric actually coming to apologize to riggins for overreacting about Julie when he hears the real story??? Love it.
-Weevil from Veronica Mars shows up as a friend of Santiago’s? Of course.
-WOW and Logan from Gilmore girls as a Christian radio host...tracks.
“Is that your way of telling her you like her?” Jason making a surprisingly astute observation about Tim. (And Lyla.)
-yo why would you invite your daughter’s boyfriend’s family over for dinner just to say they shouldn’t date? (And bc it’s an interracial relationship.) Southern culture is wild to me lol
-wow the racist coach from last season is now off spouting his mouth about how “no wife of mine would be working with a kid at home.” I love that Eric calls him out as sounding stupid and ignorant — you better!
-hearing that Lyla burned her cheerleading uniform is one of the most badass things she’s done so far tbh along with that dealership destruction
-off the rails update: 2x12 was toooo much!! Like, Jesus between Smash’s sister getting harassed at the movie theater by the racists who hate on smash and Noelle...and this plotline with Santiago and his old friends trashing Buddy’s place...it’s like, can we breathe.
-I could not be more excited for Carlotta to leave and another teenage boy with adult woman relationship to end.
-wow can’t believe the plotline where Riggins stole $3000 from a drug dealer isn’t ending well for him. And now Smash is getting arrested bc of those racist guys from the movie theater episode? One recap I read said that too many of this season’s plots feel contrived and I think that sums it up.
-is there any character who HASN’T worked at Buddy Garrity’s dealership at this point?!
-and yikes at all the other salespeople being mad that a salesperson in a wheelchair was hired...y’all mad ugly and ableist for that
-Tyra and Landry are....confusing
-Wait Logan from GG is an actual preacher and not just a Christian radio host? CREEPY. And he kissed Lyla? A lot to unpack there.
-lol Tim trying to woo Lyla is kinda funny to watch simply bc Tim is clearly so confounded by rejection
-I love how much space they give for Smash’s sister’s pain in the Noelle-Smash theater incident. A lesser show wouldn’t have centered her as much.
-is it mean of me to say Jason is boring AF most of the time
-yeah this dreads girl is seemingly way more compatible with Landry than Tyra yikes! Like she made him a power metal mix cd???
-wow this Smash storyline where mouthing off to the press is what gets him suspended....really checks out bc teenage boys are dumb
-I love Tami as a volleyball coach and getting to see another sport! Also as someone who’s been on a losing team I know that feeling of finally winning a game!!! Go Dillon volleyball!!! (Am I maybe currently writing a Bughead fic based on my underdog field hockey experiences? ;) yes yes I am)
-Oh shit now Saracen’s at the nihilistic Nothing Matters phase of teenage angst. Right on schedule!
-lol these two short haired blondes (white dreads Jean and Tyra) being in a love triangle with Landry is wild
-Omg jean just said, “are you a friend or are you competition?” She is not playing!
-I love Riggins dragging Saracen to practice
“I don’t want you to become at an at-risk youth” -Landry teasing Saracen while also sincerely caring about him is some of the best friendship banter on this show. The accuracy 😂
-It seems like Julie gets a lot of hate? But I think I have such a soft spot for Julie bc I was a bitchy teenager with undiagnosed mental health disorders and I just wish so much #growth for her! Also I really do miss her and Saracen’s relationship, I’m so excited I’m almost at S3 where it seems like it’s happening again?
-LOL this guy at the dmv is the first person in Dillon to be like, “no I hate football.” That tracks.
-wow Saracen is getting driven to the hospital to make sure his grandma is okay by the sex worker who was just giving him a lap dance. Amazing.
-also I hope grandma is okay!
-okay Tyra throwing her hat in the ring for Landry at the last minute? Idk I think Jean deserves the win but there’s no way it’ll happen bc she’s a guest actor?!
-awww Saracen’s abandonment issues coming out whiles he in the tub after being sobered up by Eric Taylor. “There’s nothing wrong with you.” 😭 and “your daughter left me for a better guy” - will take that crumb — first mention of Julie out of Saracen’s mouth in a minute
-hey, Landry, my friend: flirting with a girl (Jean) to get her outside then dumping her immediately is kind of a wild bait and switch. But I get it, he’s been in love with Tyra for a long time and Tyra IS right — they had a very fucked up start to their relationship so it makes sense she needed a minute to process her ~feelings~. however I definitely identified closer to a jean in my high school experience L O L (minus the unacceptable white dreads)
-these Julie and Tami driving scenes are painfully accurate, btw. Love them.
-wow the scene of Smash hyping everyone up, the adrenaline/energy of the team cheering with helmets and a classic “clear eyes, full hearts, can’t lose” - then the whole team running out onto the field and leaving an empty locker room with just Smash breaking down into tears....#art
-alright y’all I’m gearing up for the last episode of S2! Thanks to @lockitin for reminding me this is the writers’ strike season — I was in eighth grade then and remember being pissedddd about the shortened fourth season of “the office” — so I’m fully prepared for the abruptness to come.
-I love when they parallel showing the white church and the black church
-and Tim going to church just to see Lyla makes me laugh
-ooooof Jason you cannot put on this waitress you had a one night stand with the fact that this could be your only chance to have a baby!!! Omg this poor woman who just pointed out she, too, is NINETEEN.
-wait so is Riggins doing a sports show on a Christian radio station? What?
“I think you’re really hot. Your long hair reminds me of Jesus” -Christian girls being horny for Riggins LOL
-awww Saracen being like “okay Landry you’re gonna impress Tyra right now” before that football play was a cute friendship moment for those two
-aww I love how this Smash storyline is turning out with Coach Deeks whose had his eye on him for six years my heart 😭
-also unclear to me whether Logan Huntzberger the Preacher is a fully grown adult dating a high school senior?? Biggest teen drama pet peeve once again! Stop this!
-Tami is my heroine for just leaving Eric at the restaurant fighting with her ex. “see you at home, honey!”
-I’m sorry, is Jason gonna like actually convince this girl to have a baby with her one night stand at 19??? Oh lol wait THAT ended up being the cliffhanger of the whole season? Fucking hilarious.
well I made it through season 2!!! Super psyched for Season 3, Jay has been hyping me up for it. See y’all next time! (I’ll try to post more for season 3 bc this accidentally got long af.)
#maria watches friday night lights#mine#friday night lights#friday night lights 2x08#friday night lights 2x09#friday night lights 2x10#friday night lights 2x11#friday night lights 2x12#friday night lights 2x13#friday night lights 2x14#friday night lights 2x15
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silm needs more diversity
Hey so uh, I don’t know how this will be received but like I need to get something off my chest
This fandom is old, like really old. I just got in two years ago but I’ve seen enough stuff to know the book despite not reading it. The point I’m getting to is that diversity seems like it’s still a problem. Tolkien’s world is vast and has incredible detail in it, which is why I think more fans should kinda think that way?
Disclaimer I’m not saying everyone should abide by this, cause everyone’s interpretations are different, but I just at least want this to be considered. Like if y’all want to continue doing whatever you do go ahead!
TL;DR I wish fans would focus on culture and the impact it has on the characters rather than just doing it hollywood style.
So anyway, I’ll just name the obvious: Race
As far as we know, elves are the ONLY race to only be described as white. (fair skinned is now more to address beauty but back then it was for white skin, you know, the 1930s)
What does this mean? The elves are based off Celtic culture (now that I am editing this turns out nearly every country sees elves as white, for they had their own version of elves but with different names), which is in the North, meaning not much aka your skin will be white. Are there irl darker skinned people living up north now? Yes! But they did not originate from there. Their ancestors were brought there as slaves, otherwise they were down south. Imma tell you right now, as someone who is as black as it gets, no sun kills my skin. I have to have vitamin D supplements else I’ll get moody and my skin breaks out... point being, it sucks. There’s no way my ancestors would have originated here unless they had to get lighter or just move.
But what I’m trying to get to is the real issue here. I see a few artist portraying elves as having darker skin (I have nothing against the art! Some are beautiful), but that’s just it... Just dark skin. No offense but just slapping a different color on a character isn’t diverse. Reason being is that it is irrelevant. Even irl, having a setting be medieval or anything older then having darker characters live up north and lighter characters down south is just... kinda odd? When people only focus on skin color for diversity it comes off as forced and kinda defeats the point, since you’re focusing only on race despite preaching that race doesn’t matter.
Am I saying elves shouldn’t be diverse? No! In Tolkien’s world the elves on the west are white (keep in mind every other race is diverse such as hobbits, who are tanned or olive skinned), but we don’t know much about the elves on the easter side or the south. There definitely could be darker elves, and even if there aren’t, headcanon them! What a lot of fans miss when they add more ethinicty is the culture added to them. A popular race bend is Fingon’s family. Since they would have darker skin, that means that they would have to live in a warmer environment. How would that effect their clothing? What about resources? There is a lot more to play with rather than “black elf”.
Another thing I wish to see done a little better is Gender
I’ll be honest, Tolkien probably wouldn’t agree with LGBT since he’s super traditional. (some folks say he is but we have no proof of it, plus just cause you like someone’s work doesn’t mean you would like you person) But like I said, headcanons are for that.
Gender is being treated the same way race is for the world (nothing wrong with small headcanons though! If you want one NB character that’s totally fine!), just giving a few characters different gender just because. I am not a fan of that, sine it disregards the culture those characters live in. Irl, countries have their own gender roles. A lot have two, but some have three, and some even more. If we were to reimagine what elf gender of dwarf genders would be, I feel like changing how the race sees it as a much better way. For ex, the dwarves not really caring about gender since they value strength and pride over someone’s appearance. After all, the women have beards, implying their roles aren’t the typical ones people have in Middle Earth. idk it’s not that deep since I just came up with it but I love it when I read hcs about elven genders because a lot more thought is put into it. I also like it when there are some characters who identify with a gender their culture doesn’t support, because that tackles irl situations. Gender itself is a mysterious field we’re still figuring out today, and I think we should bring that into tolkien’s world.
Sorry this is a lot but it’s just something I had to get off my chest. Don’t get me wrong, this fandom has some of the most talented writers and artists. With that being said, I’m seeing a growth of inclusion of diversity (which is fantastic honestly), but not in a good direction. A lot feel too mainstreamy. I’ll use the race example cause I’m the most familiar with it, but when I see people drawing black elves, they’re always the light black. Even the hair is either braids or an afro. It’s would be fine but it kinda feels like the main design. I have dark, DARK skin, and my hair isn’t in a braid or an afro. I think elves with shorter hair or curly hair, or honestly anything, is a great inclusion. Even different types of clothing and markings would be fantastic.
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