actually kind of hate it when people (coworkers) assume they know everything about my interests or lifestyle because they follow me instagram. that's only part of my life. the realest me is tumblr me

I'm so excited for your event I'm literally dancing in my chair 😂

My request is San + kinks 12 and 25 + line 48 + 59. Arranged marriage AU hehe.

Let's gooo and let the creativity fairy bless you mwah 😘🩷

Thankyou darling! I hope you'll enjoy this one!

City Lights || CHOI SAN

Genre: Smut

Pairing: husband!San x Fem reader

Word Count: 2.5K

Tags/warnings: Arranged marriage! AU, Dirty talk, praise kink, virgin!reader, handjob, fingering, oral sex (f), unprotected sex, making a baby🤪

Taglist: @anyamaris @a-soft-hornytiny @whatudowhennooneseesyou @wooyoungmybelovedhusband @pyeonghongrie-main @woosanbby @dreamlesswonder86 @lemonhongjoong @changbinslovelylegs @jonghostie @lovjensoo @1-800-shedevil @glintneon123

ENJOY!

"Well, it's quite romantic, isn't it? With all the lights?" Your husband grinned. You gave him a weak smile, still feeling fuzzy from the flight. He patted your back as you walked down Regent Street.

"Is there anything you need?" He asked. You shook your head. "Did you lose your tongue, Y/N?" He sighed. "No, sorry," you apologized quickly.

You and your husband had just touched down in London for your honeymoon. San insisted on going somewhere sunny but you loved the gloomy days and requested to go to London instead. After all you were married and supposed to be together forever, there would be a lot of opportunity's to see warm countries instead.

San had requested you to be his wife, well actually, your parents had arranged this. You hadn't found a suitor yet and his parents wanted him to marry someone from good wealth and they didn't trust San with finding a wife as he fell in love with 'nothings' before.

But you were something. Your parents run one of the largest company's in South Korea and is currently planning on blending with Choi INC., the company that San's parents run. It was only natural that they both decided on getting their children to marry each other.

Now you could have done worse, you were aware. He was handsome and he hasn't been bad to you so far, but it was hard for you to give him so much attention and love when you hardly knew him. You were married for money and specifically for your parents' money and you thought it was kind of fucked up.

Nonetheless, you were with San in London for a week and you had to make it work. You have been a little absent, your mind too clouded. You were expected to gift him at least one child, preferably a son, San's father had said. You smiled to yourself when San defended you in this, saying your body belonged to you and if you would have his child he'd love it no matter the gender of the baby.

Maybe you were paired with a good man after all.

You had told him before your wedding he shouldn't expect sleeping with you on the wedding night as you didn't know him well enough and San understood. Yet the pressure of conceiving a child on the honeymoon was bigger than yourself and it concerned San as well. You knew there was a big chance San would want to have sex with you this week. But how on earth were you going to tell him you were a virgin?

On the first day of your London trip he took you to see Notting Hill, the Big Ben and the London Eye, the typical tourist stuff. On the second day you went shopping and he bought you beautiful clothes. Today was the third day and the time was ticking and somehow you could feel San's impatience. You were gonna have to tell him tonight. After a long day of visiting the famous palace and beautiful museums you finally sat down in a private booth of a lovely restaurant. The Mojito in your hand slightly calmed your nerves as your dinner was filled with anxiety.

''What's going on, dear? Was today a lot for you?'' he asked. Dear. Oh My.

''Well, there's just something on my mind,'' you confessed. ''Tell me about it, it might clear up your mind,'' San offered as he took another bite of his salmon dish. ''As you know, there's the matter of... bearing a child for you,'' you started, slightly startling San, but he nodded. ''It just feels like big pressure to... have a healthy son.''

''Dear, first of all...It's not just for me... It... would be our child, right? We'll raise the child together and... We will love the child together. I also don't care if it's a son or a daughter, as long as it's healthy. Even if it's unhealthy I'll promise to love the baby.''

You took a deep breath and nodded. ''I know that it's sudden,'' San spoke as he took your hand in his, ''I know that it might be really soon for you, but I promise to be here. I'm not going anywhere. You'll be fine, I promise.'' You felt your heart feel lighter as San reassured you again. ''Thank you San.''

You continued your dinner peacefully and he often made you smile with his kind remarks. "The city lights shine beautifully on that angelic face of yours." You grinned and rolled your eyes at his cheesy lines, but they made you feel fuzzy inside. Maybe you could truly trust him with your secret.

''How could you ever be a virgin?'' San gasped.

You were seated on the hotel bed and San was just about to kiss you. You were quick to stop him, hands rested against his chest as you blurted it out. You felt your skin getting hotter, a blush creeping up on your cheeks.

''It just never happened for me. The kiss we had at the wedding was my first too,'' you confessed. You tried so hard to be brave but tears filled your eyes. San's heart filled with worry and he took your hands in his, gently rubbing his thumbs over your knuckles. ''Y/N...'' He started.

You looked down but San lifted your chin up again. ''I'll take care of you, if you'll let me.'' Something inside you changed and as of that moment you wanted nothing more than to be in your new husbands' arms. You fell into his embrace and closed your eyes for just a second.

''I'm so sorry I wasn't more careful, I just think you are so beautiful I didn't think of it.'' ''You think I'm beautiful?'' San nodded. ''I think you're stunning. You looked like an angel in that weddingdress... and even when you go to bed you're still gorgeous,'' he said softly. You nodded and smiled. ''Thank you San... I feel better. I don't know if I can do it tonight but... I promise you... I'll give you your baby. Tomorrow.''

''Tomorrow?'' ''Tomorrow.''

It was 7PM and you were having your 'everything-shower'. Hair washes, legs shaven, body butter doing it's work. You knew San was sitting on the bed and he was waiting, waiting to fuck you into oblivion. At least that's what was said in the books you've read.

Is that even a thing in real life? You knew how sex worked, you weren't innocent, but you also didn't know everything. You dried your hair as you looked into the mirror. Did you look good enough to have sex with without any make-up on?

You looked at your body, your wedding night lingerie on. The white material complimented your skintone and it hugged your body in the right places. But it did not stop you from being insecure.

What was a woman's body supposed to look like? What if he thinks your private parts look strange? He's married now, he will have to live with it. You shook your head and sighed, forgetting your stupid thoughts. Don't think so much, you told yourself.

You put on your robe and scrunched your hair to make it look right again. You finished your skincare and stepped out of the bathroom. San was indeed seated on the bed, his tight black shirt and pantalon showing off his big muscles. You swallowed thickly at the sight of him.

"Hi," you spoke softly as you walked closer to him. He smiled and stood up, taking your hands. "Hello there, beautiful."

His arms wrapped around you as he pulled you tight. Your breath hitched in your throat as you felt his hand slide up and down your back. "Y/N, can I kiss you?" He asked. You weren't sure if it was forced or genuine, but you felt safe enough. San was a good man. He is kind. And he's your husband.

You nodded slowly.

His lips attached to yours slow and softly. Gently. Even though you were inexperienced it was like he guided you, it was automatic. San's lips were soft like cushions and his movements were smooth.

San's tongue slipped out of his mouth, slowly licking your bottom lip. You stopped the kiss before his tongue could slide in, slowly panting out.

Before he could say anything you attached your lips to his neck and carefully unbuttoned his shirt, slowly revealing his toned chest and abs. As you watched him stripping off the shirt and pants you discarded the robe, letting it fall on the ground.

His mouth fell open as he watched you in all your glory, softest skin ready to be touched, lingerie waiting to be torn off your body. "God, dear, you have no idea how beautiful you are. Feel how hard I am now," he breathed out as he took your hand and laid it on his clothed cock. You gently palmed it and you felt your breath hitch in your throat again at the feeling of his growing erection.

"I did that?" "Yes honey, you are doing that. You're that hot," he smirked, "do you wanna touch it, Y/N?"

Your husband slid down his boxers and revealed his big, throbbing length. You admired his naked body before you took his hard dick in your hand, stroking it slowly. San's breath picked up when you spat in your hand and smeared the spit over his cock as lube, working him up.

"God babe, you're insane," he groaned when you picked up the pace, jerking him off at a steady and affective rhythm. You felt your pussy clench around nothing at his praise, making you rethink your life, were you getting off on his praises?

You worked your hand faster and his grunts and puffs got louder and his hips bucked up. "You're making me feel so good angel, you're gonna make me cum if you're gonna keep going," he moaned. "B-But I shouldn't, I need to cum inside your pussy, baby," he said a few seconds later as he stopped you. He took a deep breath before pulling you close, unclasping your lacy white bra.

Your tits sprung free, meeting your husbands' eyes. They filled with hunger and lust as he took the image of your bare breasts in. He was an ass-man but as his cock kept twitching at the sight of you, he had to admit your breasts excited him to the fullest.

He slipped off your panties as he laid you down on the bed. You were shy, nearly blushing as he kissed every inch of your body. "So beautiful," he whispered after a few kisses, "doing so well for me."

San spread your legs slowly and looked at your wet cunt, gaping at the sight of it. "I am going to touch you now."

His fingers reached your folds, sliding them through gently and collecting the wetness. "God, so beautiful, you're a diamond, baby," he hummed from between your thighs. San had lowered himself so he was at eye-level with your cunt.

You took a deep breath as your anxiety rose, but San's tongue lapped at your sensitive clit only seconds later. You whined as you forgot about your surroundings, San's tongue being the only thing you could concentrate on.

It worked magic against your clit as he slowly scissored his middle- and ringfinger inside you to work you open. You felt the cold metal of his wedding ring prod at your entrance as he fucked his fingers deep inside you.

Your moans grew louder and soon became uncontrollable as San went nuts on your pussy, losing himself in the pleasure of pleasing you. Mutters of "you're doing so well" and "prettiest pussy" left his mouth every now and then, only working you up more.

San made you arch your back from the pleasure and you felt your orgasm coming closer as San sped up the pace of his fingers. His tongue kept flicking and toying with the sensitive bud and his fingers finally found your g-spot as he curled them just the right away.

With a loud moan you released, orgasming on his fingers and tongue. He licked you and his fingers as clean as he could before he pulled himself away to hover above you.

"I promise," he panted as he kissed your jaw and neck, sliding his cock between your folds a few times. The head of his length rubbed against your clit, making you whine out his name. "I promise I will be gentle and I will take care of you, and I'm gonna make you feel so good, gonna make you a mommy, my delicate angel."

You held your breath as San slowly slid his member inside. "Breathe out honey, deep breaths," he grunted as he felt your tight walls squeeze him tightly. You clenched your eyes shut as you breathed in and out, taking all of his cock little by little.

"Yes, my precious angel, you are doing so well, you're taking my cock so well," he cooed, slowly pushing his cock in and out of you. You winced as he did so, feeling the sting and hearing your body telling you to stop, but you weren't going to stop, not when he positioned himself in a way that made it possible for him to directly hit your g-spot as he thrusted into you.

"Oh! S-San," you whined out. The stretch of his cock still hurting, but pleasure overtaking as he repeatedly hit your g-spot. "Right there, huh, angel? Right there? I'll fuck you right there, my good girl," he grunted as you nodded eagerly.

"Yes please, fuck me right there," you squeeled, nails digging into his biceps. "You're doing so well, pretty pussy taking my cock, you like that huh? You like the way my dick slides in your little pussy?"

"Yes, yes I love it, please," you moaned, feeling his cock reach deeper inside you. You nearly forgot about the stretch until he moved slightly, making you tense up.

"It's okay precious, it's okay, I got you," he said as he slowed down, holding you in his arms. You whined out as you felt his cock stretch out your walls more. "S-San!"

"My good girl, taking me so well, you're being so good, so brave," he grunted as the grip on your hips tightened. His hand reached between your bodies and his fingers found the way to your sensitive clit. He rubbed it quickly and made the moans spill from your lips.

"O-oh, San! Yes!" You moaned loudly as you felt another orgasm wash over you. You clenched down on his dick, making him reach his orgasm too. He moaned loudly as he spilled all his seeds inside you, filling you up to the brim.

He panted out and stayed inside you, not wanting any of it to leak out. You regained your breath as your hands ran over his back, eyes closed. "My precious angel," he whispered in your ear as he slowly pulled his dick out of you. You felt some of your man's hot cum drip from your pussy down to your ass, making you hiss at the feeling.

"You were amazing honey, you did so well," he said as he kissed your head, holding you in his arms. "I will make sure to keep trying to put a baby in you," he promised as he carressed your hair, "and I'm gonna make you feel so good every day, while you're looking so pretty in the city lights."

Something Bigger Than Us

Spencer Reid x Reader (female)

A/N- Hi guys, I am back after an eventful few months. Had to deal with some personal stuff, but I am back now and writing more! So, to celebrate, heres some fluff with our favourite genius!!

Word Count- 4026 words

Warnings- Fluff, mention of bodily liquids in the case, mentions of murder.

The beauty of love is that, you can fall into it with the most unexpected person at the most unexpected time. - Ritu Ghatourey.

Sitting in the subway cart, Spencer indulged in the book in his hands. It had been a gift from Penelope as she had always told him he had to read more fictional works. So, there Spencer was, on his day off, travelling to the science museum and reading ‘The Maze Runner’. He was taking more time than he needed; slowing down his reading speed to prolong the story to fit his entire journey. He was so engrossed that he nearly didn’t notice the subway cart come to a stop and the doors open, a woman walking inside. What made Spencer glance up from the novel in his hands was the slight change of weight near his feet. Looking away from his novel, he didn’t expect to see said woman sitting on the subway cart floor. Spencer glanced around to see multiple seats available, yet there this person was. Sat on the ground.

“Did you want to sit here?”

Spencer had found many women pretty in his life. He had found a few to be gorgeous. But this woman, she was breath taking. As she lifted her gaze to stare into his, Spencer felt a warmth he never felt. A moment. A spark.

The woman smiled up at Spencer.

“No, it’s okay. I quite like sitting on the floor. I can feel the wheels moving more.”

Spencer looked at the woman puzzled.

She couldn’t help but let her smile grow.

“Sit down and feel.”

Spencer’s brain went blank at the woman’s request. He knew how much bacteria there was on the floor and could not imagine doing such a thing as sitting on it.

“On average, more than 9 million people ride the subway every day. That’s 18 million feet on that floor. They could have stepped in anything. The number of bacteria is unimaginable.”

The woman shrugged.

“So, that’s 18 million feet and my butt. At least I can say I enjoyed my subway ride more because I felt the wheels on the tracks.”

The warmth in Spencer’s chest spread the more he looked at her. Before he even realised, Spencer found himself sliding from his seat and onto the subway floor next to her. She was right. You could feel the wheels thumping against the tracks.

“It’s like a heartbeat.”

The woman looked at the floor of the carriage with a smile.

“People ride the subway every day and never think about how amazing it is that this thing was created. That we can hop on something that could take us wherever we desired to in our city. They treat it like it's nothing. But it moves like we do, and it stops like we do.”

The woman looked up at Spencer.

“It has a heartbeat. Just like you and I.”

In his whole life, Spencer had never heard someone describe anything in such a way that made it feel human; that made him feel so human.

“So, where are we going?”

“We?”

The woman smiled and stood from the ground, holding her hand out for Spencer to take. He did so without a thought. It was like being around her made him forget everything.

“Yes, we? I had no plans but then I met you and it seems you had plans so now I do to. So, where are we going mister…?”

Spencer straightened his satchel, his hands gripping the straps. The warmth that had spread from his chest now burnt in the hand he had held hers with for those few seconds.

“My names Spencer. Spencer Reid. I’m actually a doctor but not a medical one. I have three PHD’s and three bachelor’s Degrees, but none of them are remotely medical. I could go into that field if I wanted to but…”

Spencer stopped himself as he realised, he was rambling.

The woman leaned against the pole to her side and looked at Spencer in earnest.

“You were saying you could go into the medical field if you wanted to but…”

She was actually listening to his rambling and she even seemed to be interested.

Spencer’s hands gripped his satchel tighter.

“But I have enough to focus on with work already.”

The woman nodded her head in understanding.

“Well, Dr Spencer Reid, my name is Y/F/N. Y/F/N Y/L/N. My title is just regular old miss. Unfortunately, I have no PHDs, but I do have a bachelor’s degree in Film Studies which I’m presuming is nowhere near exciting as what you have yours in. I could never have gone into the medical field because I hated biology and preferred chemistry at school as I liked drawing the chemical equations more than learning about photosynthesis. The only part I liked about biology was learning about thalidomide, which is really grim, but it was fascinating.”

Whilst she spoke, Spencer couldn’t help but notice the movement of her hands. Her nails on her right hand were painted a different colour to the ones on her left. Just like how he wore different socks on each foot. He liked that they unknowingly matched.

“Now we are no longer strangers, I think you need to tell me where we are going?”

Spencer looked towards the doors and noticed that they were actually soon to arrive to his stop.

“I was going to visit the museum. The next stop is my one.”

Y/N looked at the door and nodded.

“Cool. So, can I join?”

Even though she had already said she was joining him twice, Spencer did not think she actually meant it. He stuttered through his words as his thoughts blazed around his head.

Y/N could see his mind going into overdrive.

“Hey.”

Spencer looked down at the shorter woman in front of him. He wondered why she seemed so worried.

“I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable. I tend to come off as quite strong but something about you tells me I need to know more. I want to know more. Spend more time with you. I’d love to see the things Dr Spencer Reid, who has three PHDs and was reading one of my favourite books when I hopped on the train, had planned to see today. I will only join you if it is something you want.”

Spencer felt the subway cart come to a stop and saw the doors in his peripheral open.

He was tired of living life through the view of work before anything else. The few moments of happiness he had was taken away by not allowing himself to be spontaneous. To be with them in person. So, for the second time that day, Spencer grabbed a hold of Y/N’s hand, ignoring the facts and statistics of germs and bacteria running through his mind.

Pulling her towards the doors, the pair stepped off the subway cart and onto the platform.

People walked around the pair as they stood facing each other, staring at one another with their hands entwined.

Spencer swallowed the lump in his throat.

“I would like if you would join me to the museum. I would like to spend more time with you too.”

Y/N smiled at Spencer’s words. With the hand still not in his grasp, Y/N lifted her arm towards the subway exist.

“Well, lead the way Dr Spencer Reid.”

Spencer did just that.

In silence the pair walked the short distance from the subway station to the museum. Their hands interlocked at their sides as Y/N looked around at the buildings by them. Spencer couldn’t help but glance towards the woman. He couldn’t understand why he felt so different with her. The warmth in his chest was still there, and it felt as though it was growing and spreading with every breath he took. His hand in her own was something he wished to never lose. It was like being enveloped in the softest blanket known to man. This stranger who sat by his feet on the subway has made him feel more comfortable and step out of his comfort zone more than any of his friends or family ever have. But why?

Coming to the doors of the museum, Spencer opened the door for Y/N to enter before him; letting go of her hand to do so. He felt empty without her hand in his. He couldn’t believe how empty his palm now felt.

“I’ve never been to this museum before.”

Y/N couldn’t help but laugh at the shocked look on Spencer’s face. As though what she said was the most shocking thing he had ever heard.

Before she could even make a joke about his expression, Spencer suddenly turned down a corridor.

“Woah! Slow down Doc!”

Spencer slowed down his pace.

“I’m sorry. It’s just this is my favourite place and I want to show you everything it has to offer.”

Y/N smiled at Spencer’s bashful behaviour. She couldn’t help her own cheeks blushing at the thought that this kind man wanted to show her around his favourite place. To think she had only met him a mere hour before.

Giving Spencer’s a comforting smile, Y/N bumped her shoulder with his own.

“I have a feeling that I am going to learn a lot with you as my tour guide.”

Spencer led the way as they walked through the corridors, reciting information about each exhibit they come across, stuttering when he felt Y/N’s hands brush his own as they walked side by side.

Just as Spencer was about the point Y/N to the next exhibit, he felt her hands slowly clasp around his own. Her smooth fingers fitting perfectly into the gaps between his rough appendages.

“Is this okay?”

Spencer smiled in delight, squeezing her hand in reassurance as he pulled Y/N in the direction they had been heading.

Walking hand in hand down the hall, Spencer silently led Y/N to one of his favourite parts of the museum. As they entered the room, Y/N’s eyes could not miss the large rock exhibited in the middle of the room, people sporadically standing around the object.

“What is that?”

Spencer’s chest became warm at the look of wonder on Y/N’s face as they walked closer to the exhibit.

“That is the Willamette Meteorite. It was found in Oregon and is the largest ever meteorite found in the United States and the sixth largest in the world. The smooth surface melted during its blazing entry into the atmosphere, while the pits formed on the Earth's surface. Iron meteorites form when large enough asteroids have had molten interiors catastrophically collide with other asteroids. These huge collisions blast out material from the molten iron core of the asteroid on orbits that reach Earth after millions of years.”

Y/N continued her wonderous gaze as they let go of Spencer’s hand, walking around the meteorite, taking in every crevice and crater. Spencer could usually spend hours staring at the meteor, but right now he could not tear his haze away from Y/N as she took her time looking at the artefact.

Turning to look at Spencer, Y/N wanted to find out more.

“How was it made? Like is it a piece of something much bigger?”

Spencer looked at the meteorite that stood much taller than all of them.

“The internal structure, made of metallic iron, suggests that billions of years ago, an early planet orbiting the Sun was shattered, perhaps in a collision with another protoplanet. The fragment was probably part of the planet’s iron-nickel core. While planets, including Earth gradually formed and matured, this fragment orbited the Sun. It was hit at least twice by other planetary fragments, knocking it into a collision course with Earth. Over many centuries, rainwater interacting with its iron sulphide deposits produced sulfuric acid, which slowly etched and carved large cavities.”

Spencer waited for a response, but as the seconds passed in silence. Had he freaked her out? Had he gone too far? Spencer moved his gaze from the meteor to Y/N, to see her staring at the meteorite in awe.

“Woah.”

Spencer laughed at her exclamation. His head dipping down to try and cover his reddening cheeks.

“Woah indeed.”

Y/N couldn’t help the blush now invading her cheeks. Walking back towards Spencer, Y/N nudged the genius’s shoulder with her own, gaining his attention. Spencer turned his head to look back at Y/N.

“It’s crazy how we get to look at something that was once part of something much bigger. Something that could have housed life and all sorts of wonderous things and yet, here sits part of its core, on our planet, in one of our museums. Now a part of something much bigger again.”

Spencer and Y/N looked at each other in silence. Taking in the moment and her words. Both of them acknowledging that they too were part of something much bigger, much more meaningful than they had every thought about.

A clicking sound broke the moment.

Turning around, Spencer and Y/N both saw an older gentleman pointing a polaroid camera towards the pair.

Realising that the pair had turned around the gentleman walked up towards them and handed over the picture.

“It still has to develop.”

Y/N looked down at the picture in Spencer’s hand as it slowly developed.

“Can you take another one? Just so we can have one each.”

The man nodded at Y/N question, stepping back to where he stood before.

Y/N moved her hand to clasp Spencer’s once more, tilting her head to lay on his shoulder, a smile blossomed on her face as she looked towards the camera.

Spencer’s own gaze was fixed on her. His eyes taking in the slope of her nose and the feel of her hair tickling his neck. Usually, if he was ever this close to anyone, let alone a woman, he would start to sweat and panic. And yet, all Spencer could feel was what he could only describe as serene. Spencer had never felt serene until now.

Being shaken out of his stare by the click of the man’s camera once more, Spencer looked to see the man handing Y/N the picture as she rummaged through her bag.

“No need to pay me.”

Y/N shook her head.

“I insist.”

The man moved forward, placing his hand on Y/N’s shoulder.

“I gave you the picture because sometimes it is nice to look back where it all began.”

The old man looked Spencer in the eye and gave him a wink, causing Spencer to blush.

“Both of you, enjoy your day, and may I suggest if you get hungry, try Giovani’s Café down the street.”

Spencer cocked his head.

“Is it good?”

The man laughed as he walked backwards, nodded his head.

“I should know, I am Giovanni after all!”

Laughter rumbled from the pair as they watched the older gentlemen walk out the door, his polaroid camera in hand. As their laughter died, Y/N looked down at the now developed picture in her hand. Spencer in turn looked at his own.

The picture was beautiful. With the light from outside cascading through the windows, creating almost a halo of light around the pair, the meteorite had never looked bigger than when Spencer saw the back of his and Y/N’s figures standing in front of it. But what Spencer couldn’t take his eyes away from was the fact that in the picture, Y/N was not looking at the meteorite. She was looking at him. If he looked hard enough, he could see a smile on her face. So soft and so beautiful.

The comforting silence of the pair looking at their polaroids was suddenly shattered when Spencer’s ringtone filled the air. Spencer couldn’t help but let his shoulders drop in disappointment.

“I’m so sorry, I just have to take this.”

Y/N smiled in acknowledgment,

“Go ahead, I’m just going to take a look over here.”

Spencer nodded as he watched her walk across the hall, examining the pictures and their information plaques as he answered his phone.

“Hello.”

“We got a case Pretty Boy. Wheels up in 50 minutes.”

Spencer rubbed his head at Morgan’s voice.

“Okay.”

Morgan could hear the disappointment in Spencer’s tone.

“Are we interrupting something?”

Spencer kept his eyes on Y/N as he took a second to answer.

“Yeah. But I’ll be there in 30 minutes.”

Morgan chuckled.

“Okay, Genius, see you later.”

Spencer hung up his phone. Walking towards where Y/N still stood, he tapped the woman on her shoulder.

As she turned, Y/N took in Spencer’s solemn look.

“Is everything okay?”

Spencer shook his head.

“Work called. I have to leave. I’m sorry.”

Y/N smiled in understanding.

“Work is work, whatever it may be. No need to be sorry. I had an amazing day that I didn’t think I would have.”

Spencer stared Y/N in her eyes, a little smile adorning his face.

“I did too. I have to go. But can we meet again?”

Y/N nodded her head, her own smile lighting her face.

“Yeah. I would like that.

Spencer grinned as he began to turn around, walking towards the corridors exit, waving as he left. He began to walk down the stairs when he suddenly heard his name.

“Spencer, wait!”

Spencer turned around to see Y/N running down the stairs towards him, polaroid in hand.

Stopping in front of him, as Y/N stood on the steps above Spencer, she was nearly as tall as the boy wonder.

“You dropped this.”

“Thank you.”

As Spencer went to reach for the picture, Y/N pulled it out of his reach.

He watched with bated breath as she carefully put the picture in the breast pocket of his jacket, tapping his jacket where the picture now safely sat.

“Now go before your boss gets angry at you for being late.”

Laughing at her truthful words, Spencer once again waved towards the girl, rushing down the steps as he looked at his watch, realising that he was going to be late. But even with that knowledge, as he opened the exit door of the museum, Spencer turned to wave goodbye to Y/N once more. Watching as she waved back, before he allowed the door to close behind him.

Spencer walked to the jet as briskly as he could, breathing heavily from the sprint through the airport, just about getting through easily with his badge.

Trotting up the steps, Spencer leaped into the jet, quickly taking the seat next to Emily, his breath heavy as he took in deep breaths.

The team ceased their conversation, all looking at Spencer in confusion and worry.

“Sorry I’m late, what’s the case?”

Spencer ignored the strange looks and elongated silence.

Hotch quickly broke it.

“We’re heading to Akron, Ohio. We got two murdered couples with the men both being found with used condoms on and Viagra in their systems. In both cases, the husbands were killed with a silenced 9-millimeter, the wife was stabbed multiple times. We’re meeting up with the Akron P.D when we get there. Everything you need is in the file.”

Spencer nodded his head as he grabbed the file from Hotch, opening the papers as the plane took off.

Briskly looking through the file, Spencer began to detail notes in his notebook about possible suspects and details the others may have missed. But as he scribbled, Spencer could feel the stares of Emily, Morgan, and JJ as they all sat by him. Fed up, Spencer lifted his head, flittering his gaze between them all.

“Can I help?”

“Why was you late?”

Spencer looked at Morgan.

“I was at the museum.”

“That’s the truth but why was you late?”

Spencer turned his eyes to Emily, confusion littering his features.

“I was at the museum, I had to get on the subway and get here.”

JJ tilted her head as Spencer looked between the trio.

The weight of their gazes quickly caused him to break.

“I was late because I was at the museum with someone.”

At his statement, everyone on the jet turned towards Spencer. Even Hotch had Spencer’s undivided attention.

Emily twisted to face the genius, a smirk on her face as she crossed her arms.

“Go on Romeo, tell us all about them.”

Spencer knew he could not get out of this. So, he began to begrudgingly tell his team about his day and the person he spent it with.

“Then after the gentleman took our picture, I got the call. I said goodbye and rushed over here.”

The team all looked at Spencer with mixtures of pride and happiness.

“Did you get her number?”

The looks soon turned to disbelief as Spencer bowed his head in shock.

“You had an amazing day with a woman you don’t know, which is something unlike you, and you failed to get her number? Pretty boy, I am very disappointed. I’ve taught you better than that.”

Shaking his head at Morgan’s playful words, Spencer couldn’t help his own disappointment take over. He can’t believe he didn’t ask her for her number. Rossi walked over and patted the man on his shoulder in reassurance.

“At least you got a picture to remember her.”

Spencer slowly nodded, solemnly reaching into his breast pocket to pull the picture out. But, as Spencer looked at the picture, he realised that she had handed him the second picture they had taken.

Spencer looked at the polaroid and couldn’t believe how comfortable he looked with her. Their hands interlaced as Y/N smiled brightly towards the camera. Spencer’s smile was directed towards the woman next time him, warm and content. He had never looked so at peace before. Yet, he still forgot to ask for her number.

As Spencer was about the place the picture back in his pocket, he paused his movement as Hotch spoke up.

“If I was you, I would check the back of that picture Reid.”

Looking at the people in front of him, he could see that they were all now smiling, looking at him expectedly, waiting for the man to look at the back of the picture. Flipping the picture over, Spencer couldn’t help the smile that blossomed over his face. His eyes crinkling from how large it was. On the back of the picture, a message was written.

“Meeting you made me feel part of something much bigger. Something I would love to explore. Give me a call if you want to as well.”

Underneath the message lay Y/N’s phone number.

Spencer lifted his head and looked around at his team. Pointing his thumb over his shoulder, he began to stand.

“I’m just going to…”

Emily pushed him up as the rest of the team laughed.

“Hurry up and call her Spence, no point in waiting!”

Spencer nodded his head in a flurry as JJ shooed him to the back of the jet.

Walking passed the team, Rossi and Derek patted him on the back, as Hotch nodded his head. They were all happy for him.

Walking into the jet’s toilet, Spencer locked the door and pulled out his phone. Flipping the picture in his opposing hand, he quickly dialled the number, clicking the call button before he could change his mind.

Just as he contemplated hanging up, the ringing stopped, and he heard an answer.

“Hello?”

“I want to be a part of something bigger. I want to explore it too.”

“Really?”

Spencer could feel the smile radiating from Y/N over the phone. A breathy laugh leaving his mouth as he realised, he was nodding his head instead of talking.

“Really.”

Spencer was not the type of person to sit in the bathroom on a plane talking to someone on the phone that he only met that morning. Even more so, having met that someone because they sat on the floor of the subway instead of the seats. Yet, here he was, in the bathroom talking to Y/N and getting to know her more. Spencer felt like the Willamette Meteorite. He had been broken and steered down different courses over the years, feeling like he would never be part of anything bigger than the family that was his team. But now, he felt like he was finally going to be a part of something bigger. Something extraordinary.

Never expected to meet you. When I met you I never expected you to become my everything and more than I could have ever dreamed of. - Maria Ana Bulquerin.

A/N- Thank you for the support. If you wish to in anyway, Please donate to the link below.

I Know (Part I)

Pairing: Changbin x fem!reader

Genre: suggestive

Word count: 1.9k

Warning: slight adult content, swearing, suggestive actions, elements of stalker behavior

Extra notes: characters mentioned are all above the age 21 years, a lot of hatred towards the male figure lol. Also this is my first time writing on tumblr, so please bare with me, it may not be the best, but I still hope you enjoy it :)

And baby, I know, I know whatever city you’re in, you’re still the boy that I’d pick…

part ii is up !!!

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This is no way representative of the way Stray Kids act. They’re nothing but references of character, and in no shape or form is this how they act. And I am in no way romanticizing or glamorizing any toxic behavior exhibited, they’re just stories that is meant to be read. Readers discretion is advised

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Men…

Truly the scums of the Earth, who do no good for no one, and are an absolute menace to society. But oh, do I enjoy the looks of their faces at times. The way they would look at me with full hope and infatuation, with full beliefs that I would step down and give them all they want from me.

Hmph. How cute… and pathetic. How pathetic to assume and lower my standards for them. They all are the same. All but one however.

All that men hating… and yet, only one I’d be willing to go down to his level.

Yes, its him… He whom a lot would have not sought to be with, not many would expect a bombshell like myself would be with. But I do not see that in him, not an ounce of what many insecure individuals would see. I see something striking that not many could see, an underrated dignified beauty that anyone could wish to admire. A fanciable and irresistible personality and face.

He was a man.. but a pleasant one.

It all started when I moved in into a new flat for myself. I previously left the old complex due to the cramped environment I had that left me feeling uneasy and stressed, as well as it wasn’t even my apartment, it was for my partner, well, ex-partner. It was simply wasn’t working out, due to our seeming never ending conflicts. But enough of the past, let us move on..

I found this flat that is comfortable and the rent pays well, its only downside is that my room’s window is faced to the next door’s flat, however it’s not a big detriment or big turn off for me so it was fine by me, and also it was prone to have random, yet rare, blackout, but then again what neighborhood doesn’t have that. Anyhow, I was set to take the complex, but before I did, I have noticed something about the neighbor’s window next to me. It was a man. A really good looking one too. Giving his side profile, he was laying on his bed, his black hair covered head bopping with earphones placed in ears, laptop placed in his revealing shorts adorned lap. My eyes began started to stare into his arms then onto his naked well built chest, which indicates that he likes to keep up with his health, as his ring adorned hands was tapping away in his keyboard. I quickly looked away when I saw him repositioned his laptop, and walked out of the soon-to-be my room.

Great… I’ve entered Hell.

But I didn’t let it affect my decisions and got the apartment nonetheless, here I am now, weeks after the incident, sitting in my car, outside of the building, still thinking about the man in his laptop. Has he noticed that I was staring at him? Does he know that there’s gonna be someone living next to him? I hope not. And if he has, I must apologize to him. But before that, let me unload my car. I have gradually put my stuff into the complex as the days go by, it seems dragging, but it felt like the time went by fast, so I’m glad I have done that. However, today was different, as I took stuff more than I usually did, as I desperately do not want to go back to my ex. Typically, I never had assistance, as usually my best friend would join in and help out, but at a time I needed them the most, they had to be really sick. They still were willing to help, but I insisted that they shouldn’t and should rest.

After thinking, I sighed and got out my car, ready to fight the battle that is putting my stuff into my complex. I opened the trunk, eyes meeting my stuff, and I begin to groan. ‘Dammit, (y/n), why do you have that many stuff?!’ I thought to myself. I really should’ve had at least one more visit to my ex, but alas I picked to just take all all together in one day. I picked up a box until..

“Need any help?” I heard someone behind me asking me. I turned around and looked at the source. ‘God damn, is it just me, or does this town just bring out more attractive people?’ I thought to myself, as I see a man that looked like he could be at a museum. He had a sandy brown curly hair, slightly tanned skin, really plump and a crazy jawline. He donned a tank top that barely covered his side torso, and basket ball shorts that complimented his really nice, thick… thighs… yeah… Needless to say he was really attractive.

It seems that I was ogling him, rather than responding, as he shyly smiled and waved his hand in front of my face, “hello,” he softly said as I shook my head and looked back at his face apologetically.

“I am so sorry, I am just really tired, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable,” I cringed at my pathetic way of justifying of me literally internally lusting over him. I really am turning into someone I dread to be. How can I forgive myself?

“That’s okay, I know how moving can get tiring, and I sense that you’re alone, so please let me and my friend help you out.” He said, sympathetically smiling a sweet smile, already grabbing a box out of my hand. God, if this man has a partner, then they’re the luckiest person ever, and if he’s single, I’ll gladly hand him a ring. What am I saying? (y/n), what the hell has gotten into you?!

“I’m Christopher, but you can call me Chris or Chan, whichever you prefer is fine, what’s your name?” The generous man’s voice interrupted my inner battle and I found myself looking at him again. “(y/n)” I smiled at him, which he nodded back.

“Nice to meet you,” Chan said, looking back and see that his friend showed up, meanwhile, I went back to my trunk and got out more stuff from my car “oh, there he is!” Chan enthusiastically announced.

“(y/n), meet my friend and roommate, Changbin.” Chris said, while I got out the box and looked at the other man, my face shifted from contentment to horrific.

Its the man with the laptop.

“Hello? Chan, are you sure she’s okay?” Changbin looked at Chris with worry. “Yeah, she’s just tired, just nudge her.”

It’s like Chris knew me too well, despite meeting for less than 10 minutes, as Chris slightly pushed me with the box, not enough to hurt me, but enough to put me out of a trance.

“huh? I did it again, did I?” I looked at Chan, worryingly, which he nodded. I looked back at Changbin and the pathetic act was brought up again.

“I am so sorry, I don’t know what has gotten into me.” I apologized once again, which Changbin only smirked. “Don’t worry about it,” He said, carrying a box. Something about that smirk and tone seems off. Not off in a menacing way, but off in a… coy way. Maybe not the best term to use, maybe I am just over analyzing, but I am for sure either winning the lottery tonight, or convinced that the sun will rise from the west tomorrow, since I have two very attractive men helping out, one of which is someone whom I may have an odd fascination for a while now.

~~

The two have been nothing but a delight to interact with, their help with the stuff had done me even more than just a solid. However, I still in a way feel a bit unsettled by Changbin. It wasn’t that he was a creep, or did anything to make me uncomfortable, its just this feeling of guilt I carry with me. Meanwhile, I didn’t attempt anything, and I just simply just admired him from afar, it still felt wrong that I was just looking at him while he was barely wearing anything, let alone while not him paying attention. Despite this, it seems that he doesn’t know that I did what I did, which is why I chose to confront him about it when the time is right, which is probably when we start getting even more comfortable. I have exchanged numbers with both men, even though I could probably just go out my window and yell out their names, but I’d rather not disturb the peace.

Two good looking men are now my neighbors… Who would have thought? Whichever entity that is in existence have decided to play with me, because to them, my humiliation would be their laughing stock, because they definitely would have seen what is to become of me.

Its been a week in since I moved, and interacted with the two Chans, and I am glad that a curtain was installed onto my room, just so I wouldn’t carry even more guilt than I already do. But the thing is, I would lie that I still haven’t thought of Changbin. While I would have thought that Chris fitting into more of my ideal type, Changbin however held a mysterious power that Chan didn’t.

Ever since the time I first laid eyes on Changbin, he has never left my mind. He has started to creep up in my fantasies and dreams in every way shape of form. I couldn’t stop thinking of how his arms would look around my waist, how his lips would feel in my skin, or how his hands would wander around, exploring places that many men often fail to find to make me feel good, or how his voice would be like when talking as he puts his mouth by my ear— God, this is getting out of hand, I would think.

What if he had a girlfriend? What if he wasn’t attracted to women in general? What if he finds you a creep?

So many more endless questions would come in to ruin me, but its not like i have a choice, he just happened to settle into my dreams and thoughts, and went with it.

I decided to take a shower to try and distract myself from these thoughts, which didn’t help at all, as the hot water cascading my skin did nothing but accelerated my lustful thoughts. I decided to get out of the shower, as it didn’t help my case.

Damn you, Changbin.

I sighed, put on some underwear and a robe while having a towel wrapped around my hair. I got out of the bathroom and back to my room. It was dark out, and in my room, the only light came out of it were my night lamp, which barely lit up the whole room. I checked the window, making sure Changbin wasn’t there, or at least not facing the window, only to see his window being covered with curtains.

Great timing, could’ve used that when I first saw you, dipshit.

But nonetheless, I was really glad at least he wasn’t visible. I laid back on my bed, and decided to look through social media, as anyone should. While in the middle of a instagram scroll, I see a caller popping through at the top of the screen…

It was Changbin.

DANS LES CATACOMBES | IN THE CATACOMBS. the sign above the door was written in french. it read: ARRÊTE! C’EST ICI L’EMPIRE DE LA MORT. - paul aertker, brainwashed.

PAIRING: Hanse x gender neutral reader.

GENRE: Established relationship, horror, angst.

WARNINGS: Mention of bones, drugs and alcohol, non-explicit mention of cults, blood and human sacrifices, mention of deaths, of the use of a ouija board and voices.

PLOT: You thought a walk in the catacombs would be a nice date, but how wrong you were.

WORD COUNT: 1.5k.

A/N: This is part of the Legends never die, the untold stories collab hosted by @nayuyeons. The tags are a lot scarier than the fic.

“At the end of the 18th century, major health problems linked to the city’s cemeteries led to the decision to transfer their contents underground. The Parisian authorities chose an easily accessible site, then located outside the capital: the old quarries de la Tombe-Issoire, under the plain of Montrouge. The first evacuations took place from 1785 to 1787 and affected the most important cemetery in Paris, the Saints-Innocents.”

“The bones, previously left loose, are carefully organized in the walls, on the model of quarrymen’s hagues. On the front, the rows of shins alternate with those of skulls, while behind the facings pile up the remaining bones, often very fragmented by the consequences of their fall.”

“There are 6 million skeletons stored in the catacombs ossuary, which is about 3 times more than Parisians! The Municipal Ossuary of the Catacombs is one of the largest ossuaries in the world.” (i translated these parts from the catacombs website back from my doyoung catacombs fic, i just used them again)

You barely hear the guide's voice, far too busy trying to ignore Hanse's lips on the back of your neck, his hot breath against your skin, and his hands gripping your waist. Several times you have tried to push him away, but the lack of movement does nothing other than to prompt him to stay glued to your back.

"That's not what we're here for." you whisper as you step on his foot hard enough to make him wince.

"I'm bored, I already know everything he's telling us." he responds by letting his arms fall to his sides.

You know, he knows it, you were next to him on the plane when he was reading the catacombs website. But it is an obligatory passage before the special visit begins.

Because yes, it is not a visit like the others.

Normally, the Paris Catacombs tour happens during the day, when the sun is high in the sky, and only the accessible and secure parts are visited, but today is a special day.

The tour takes place at night, and what will be visited will be the caves where strange events are said to have happened.

"Do you think the rumors are true?" he asks in a low voice, he refuses to be heard by the guide, he prefers you answering him, rather than hearing the boring and slow voice of the man who has been doing this for far too long.

"Some people were traumatized by the caves, but they were also drunk and on drugs, so I don't know how much we can believe the rumors."

And the events happened more than fifteen years ago, so water has flowed under the bridges, and who knows if the rumors haven't changed over time.

He nods, and finally the guide starts moving so you take his hand in yours and you follow the group.

"Are we allowed to use professional equipment?" someone asks, and you hear the guide chuckle.

"I do not advise you to do it, the caves are very unstable, we do not want interference, or too strong waves to cause the caves to collapse on us. That would be sad, especially because you signed a waiver that   forbid you from suing us."

Always read the waiver before signing it, you think, looking around. The man stops in a first cave, and he clears his throat. You have the impression that a mere burst of voice could bring the place down. Everything echoes, even your breathing.

“Apparently in the 1980s a cult found a way to get to the catacombs to perform sacrifices. You would like me to tell you that these were animal sacrifices, but no. Authorities found remains of humans that have been drained of their blood right in the middle of this cave."

Looking over the shoulder of the person in front of you, you notice a dark stain on the floor, but it's not strong enough evidence to prove that it happened. It could be a wet stain, or some idiot spilling something on the ground years ago without the guide seeing it.

"Do you have something that has been proven? Because we are wasting our time."

Your eyes widen when you hear Hanse's voice. He really isn't the most patient person when it comes to a guided tour. You suddenly remember when you went through the most haunted museum in the United States, he practically pushed the guide aside to make the tour himself.

You don't blame him, you don't even get mad, it actually makes your heart beat a little faster.

"If you wanted to get to the good stuff immediately you should have entered illegally." the guide responds by continuing the tour.

About twenty minutes pass, the guide tells more stories as strange and impossible as the other. Hanse is getting more and more annoyed, you can feel it by the way he squeezes your hand every time he enters a new part of the catacombs.

"There are loads of haunted places in Paris, why did you choose the catacombs?" he mumbles, and you shrug your shoulders.

"Maybe because you've always wanted to visit them?"

"And here we are in the last cave. This one is dedicated to our impatient young man in the back of the line."

If Hanse had less restraint, he would certainly be insulting the guide, but instead he steps further into the cave. "Come on, surprise us with another made-up story."

"This one is not made up." he says in a firm voice, and Hanse throws his head back laughing. His laugh hits against the walls, and the echo makes you shiver in an unpleasant way.

"So you admit that the others are made up? What are you willing to do to make money." he answers, and you wonder if the guide will hit him when he clenches his fists.

"You gave me your money to hear these stories, so shut up and let the others enjoy."

"Come on baby, let him do his job." you whisper as you take his arm, your head resting against his shoulder.

“In the early 2000s, a bunch of teens decided to enter the catacombs illegally, and they got lost. Unfortunately, when they were found they were already dead. Since then, the people wandering too far away in the catacombs, or people who come to renovate say they hear voices."

Everyone is silent, even Hanse, which is strange.

"A video was found, a video that was never allowed to be shown to the public in an attempt to trace the identities of these people, but the police were allowed to watch it, and informations were leaked."

"In this video you can see the teens running, presumably being chased by someone. Or rather, by something."

Whether this story is true, or made up, your eyes widen, it's crazy.

"Some people can still hear the teens calling for help, screaming and crying because of the thing chasing them."

There is silence in the cave, and you look around, frowning. You don't know if it's because of the story, or some trick played by your mind, but it feels like you are hearing a claw all around you. As if someone was scratching one of the walls.

"Do you hear that?" you ask near Hanse's ear who nods his head.

“People, so called paranormal professionals came with a ouija board. And by wanting to talk to the teenagers, they called something more powerful, something even worse than what caused the teens' deaths."

Your blood freezes when you hear a sudden cry. The scream is so loud, and so close to your ear that you are sure if you turn around you will see someone behind you screaming their lungs out, but there is no one there. You do not feel any presence behind you, and even Hanse who is looking around, does not react.

"What was that?" you ask, panicked.

"One of the teenagers. They want to get out. They are tired of being locked up in the catacombs. And I understand them. It's hard to always be here, to have to listen to the cries of the grieving souls without being able to go out."

A new scream is heard, and this time, you have no choice but to put your hands against your ears to muffle the noise that could make you cry because of how loud and so full of pain it is.

"Stop it, make it stop, please!" someone exclaims.

If you are paralyzed, Hanse seems unable to stay still, he is ready to pounce on the guide who is scaring everyone. Who is scaring you, you, whose heart hasn't even raced in the most haunted places you've visited in the past three years.

"It's okay, we got it, you know how to tell stories, and you know how to scare us, now bring us back to the surface!" he growls, and the other tourists seem to agree with him.

Except that..

Except that when you turn in the direction of the guide, he is gone.

Lost in the Shadows - Epilogue

AO3

Taglist: @alastaircarstairsdefenselawyer @foxglove-airmid @alastair-esfandiyar-carstairs1 @justanormaldemon @styxdrawings @ipromiseiwillwrite @a-dream-dirty-and-bruised

Previous Chapter: Chapter 35

This is the epilogue and final chapter. While there are some loose ends and I might write a sequel one day, I have currently have no plans for one so it would take some time. As it is I'm working on a Frozen TLH story (chapter 1-3 are currently published), and one post CoI story titled "We bury the sunlight" so look out for those.

Alastair decided to move in with Jem at the end of the summer. He had managed to finish decorating his bedroom just in time for the first week of university, which he was excited about starting. He wasn’t sure why, but he’d expected Jem to be overbearing and constantly worrying about his mental health. He’d always thought that was what a psychiatrist did, he guessed, just like his father had always feared Jem would know about his alcoholism from just looking at him.

He’d learnt that wasn’t the case. Jem was a doctor, he couldn’t read minds, and although he was there for Alastair when he needed him, he was family and not his doctor, which was an important distinction. Jem gave him lots of space, and the ground rules were mainly about keeping everything clean, which was no problem. Jem also preferred it to know if someone he didn’t know was visiting, but that rarely happened since Alastair only had a few friends and the only one who hadn’t known Jem before was Kamala.

It was nice, having so much space to himself. Jem had changed a lot about the house, it didn’t look like an exact copy of the house he’d lived in when he was very young. Cordelia and his mother still lived with Risa, with him gone it fit a bit better, but they were in the process of getting the house back.

He saw Thomas regularly, and they had sleep overs once a week. Alastair had bought a new double bed for his room mainly so they could share the bed. Thomas was currently adapting to student life, but had vowed to Alastair that he would not drink any alcohol. Alastair worried that would severely limit Thomas’ social life, but secretly he was very happy Thomas would do that for him. Lucie had also decided they would all start playing DnD with her, and although Alastair still didn’t understand much of the game, they had fun. Thomas, who had been in Lucie’s previous campaign as well, had helped him with his character. Right now, the group consisted of Lucie as the story teller, or dungeon master as the game called it, and Thomas, Cordelia, Kamala, Eugenia and him as the players. Alastair played a warlock, which he felt suited him. Warlocks also got nightmares they never asked for all the time and were constantly exhausted, not to mention they made deals with otherworldly beings. Perhaps it fit a little too well.

He’d also decided to take lessons in ballroom dancing, with Kamala as his dance partner at the student dance association. He almost had something that resembled a social life, which was both very new and very weird. As it was, they both were quite good at dancing. Kamala had taken two years of dance classes too, although it had been years, and together they could figure out what they remembered and how to do it. Both had been forced by their father at the time and it was much more enjoyable now that they’d chosen to pick it up again, not to mention it was nice having a dance partner he matched well with.

Thomas was still considering starting dancing, but finding a partner who was tall enough for him would be a struggle. Alastair could follow decently and dance with Thomas, although he still noticed the height difference, but with the lack of men in dancing most teachers would rather pair Thomas with the tallest girl available.

He felt like for the first time in years, he was sort of happy? Happier than he used to be at least. He still had nightmares, flashbacks, all that, and didn’t think it was going away anytime soon. If anything, EMDR made it harder, but that was to be expected. He’d known that during EMDR he’d have to talk about everything, and although in time that would make it better, at first it just brought everything to the surface. He’d learnt not to plan anything else on days he had EMDR, except maybe cuddling with Thomas.

Although relationships were still new to him, any relationships really, he was getting more accustomed to having people around who cared about him. Not just Thomas, but Lucie and Cordelia, who had just started their last year of school and came to him for help with their math homework, Kamala and Eugenia, who he’d been spending time with at the dance studio. He often visited the Lightwoods too, and he felt welcome there. Gideon and Sophie had made a habit out of inviting him along with any family outings. He’d never felt so welcome before, it had taken some time to work through that.

‘You’re going to love my gift, I promise.’

Tomorrow was Alastair’s nineteenth birthday, and Thomas was sleeping over the night before.

‘What is it?’ Alastair asked.

‘A surprise.’

‘It was worth a try,’ Alastair said. ‘How was your visit at Matthew today?’

Alastair had spoken to Matthew once. He didn’t think the two of them would ever be good friends, but they could move past school and tolerate each other’s presence. Thomas had spent the day with him today, shopping. Matthew apparently loved clothes even more than Alastair did, and had an unusual and extravagant taste.

‘Awkward,’ Thomas said.

Alastair frowned. ‘Why was it awkward?’

‘Well, he’s the only other man I know who is interested in men and has previous, uh, experience. So I figured I’d ask what to expect and what to do. It was a very uncomfortable conversation.’

Alastair started laughing. ‘You could have just asked me.’

‘I know, but I thought it would be nicer for you if I had some idea of what I’m supposed to be doing,’ Thomas said.

Alastair put his hand in Thomas’ hair. ‘That’s sweet.’

‘From now on I’ll be asking you my questions,’ Thomas said. ‘Of course, the internet has also been helpful.’

‘As long as you know where to get your information,’ Alastair said. ‘Porn isn’t real and not a good source. But I don’t mind if there’s things you don’t know yet, because I know enough.’

They had sex for the first time that night. Alastair felt it was the right time. Of course, having sex the night before his birthday wasn’t new to him. The previous years he’d spend with Charles ever since he’d turned sixteen. It was far better with Thomas. Not because of experience or anything like that, but because Alastair felt comfortable, because he was absolutely sure he wanted it and felt like he could ask Thomas to stop if he wasn’t comfortable anymore. Thomas was a little clumsy, but Alastair didn’t mind. He would get better at it with some practice.

The next morning, they went to the Victoria and Albert museum. It was early on a week day and neither of them had classes today. Thomas had been surprised at first by how empty his schedule was but had ultimately discovered much of his free time was spent on assignments and preparing for lectures and classes. Fortunately, it did mean they could easily plan such trips on times it wouldn’t be crowded. Alastair still didn’t like crowds and didn’t think he ever would. Thomas had grown over his fear of them, but he also preferred the quiet. It was much nicer this way, taking his time to let a piece of art wash over him, undisturbed by other visitors. Thomas made the occasional comment. He’d taken art history in school and could name the different styles and put works in the context of the time period. Alastair didn’t say much in response, just nodded. He felt he didn’t have to.

Thomas had promised him his gift after coming back from the museum, and Alastair was starting to get curious. Thomas had hidden the gift somewhere in Jem’s house, so Alastair wouldn’t even be able to guess from the shape. He hadn’t bothered to look for it, but had been tempted. As much as he liked the small smile on Thomas’ lips as he said ‘not yet, mi Cielo,’ Alastair was not fond of surprises. He liked to know what to expect with a three to five workdays advance notice for anything out of the usual.

‘You’d think no one has ever given you a birthday gift before,’ Thomas said. He paused. ‘Wait, is that it? Did you not usually receive gifts?’

‘No, I did, from my mother and sometimes Cordelia.’

Charles too, Charles had had a habit of giving him expensive gifts. Or gifts he’d found among his mother’s things, he guessed. Alastair had not seen him again now that he was back in London, for which he was grateful. Gideon had spoken with Charles and told him he knew what he’d done and wasn’t welcome at his house anymore. Apparently Charles had been very angry about that, but Gideon had told Alastair he was welcome anytime and it was his responsibility to guarantee his safety. Alastair appreciated that.

‘Have you been asking them about it all this time too?’ Thomas asked.

‘No just you. But you made a big deal out of it by hiding it someplace here,’ Alastair said.

‘Alright, I guess you can open it,’ Thomas said, who left and came back to the living room carrying a very big box.

Alastair carefully opened the wrapping paper, making sure nothing tore. He wasn’t sure why exactly, but he’d always opened gifts this way, as if he intended to reuse the paper, something he’d never done.

‘I thought, with how impatient you were, you’d rip it all apart,’ Thomas said.

‘No,’ Alastair said.

‘You can rip it, it’s no problem,’ Thomas said as Alastair was struggling to get a piece of sticky tape off without damaging anything.

‘No,’ Alastair said, even more determined to get everything off properly.

Once he’d gotten it open and folded away the colorful wrapping paper, Alastair revealed something that resembled a hamster cage, but bigger. There were two floors, the top open and the bottom offering a little more darkness with a little home in there an animal could hide in. There was a wheel, several balls, and a little hedgehog plushie.

‘I know you were planning to get a pet hedgehog, so I researched what it needs. This has most things it needs to live in, you just might need to add a heat lamp because hedgehogs need a warm environment.’

‘I’d been looking into what I’d need too,’ Alastair said. ‘Jem is alright with me getting a hedgehog as long as I make sure to keep Church away from him. That shouldn’t be a problem, as I would put the hedgehog in my bedroom and Church doesn’t go there.’

‘How is Church?’ Thomas asked.

‘Usually, he is wherever I’m not. He doesn’t come into my bedroom. In the living room it can be a bit more of a struggle, as he likes to claim his space, and no matter where I sit, he gets upset because that’s the spot he wanted for himself. The only moment he tolerates me is when I’m accompanying Jem on the piano.’

Alastair had picked up playing music again after years and he tried to practice for half an hour daily. Sometimes with Thomas, singing his songs and playing more modern music. But he also played classical music with Jem, who was exceptional at the violin. Jem could probably have been a concert violinist if he hadn’t chosen to become a doctor instead.

‘Sounds like Church,’ Thomas said. ‘He won’t be a danger to your hedgehog, will he?’

‘I will keep my hedgehog in my bedroom,’ Alastair said. ‘If I make sure to keep the door closed when I’m not there, I think it’s unlikely Church will even go there. Even then there’s a cover for this hedgehog home and a little house for him to hide, and of course a hedgehog can roll into a little ball of quills. I think it’ll be fine. And my therapist thought it might be good for me to get a pet, as long as I am confident I can care for it of course. Now, can you help me think of a name? I’m not great with names.’

‘You and Cordelia have been arguing about baby names for weeks now,’ Thomas pointed out.

‘Yes, the baby should have a beautiful Persian name,’ Alastair said. ‘For pets it’s different.’

‘Or dnd characters,’ Thomas added.

‘So what if my character has my middle name?’

‘No, I like it,’ Thomas said. ‘Esfandiyar. It’s a beautiful name. For a pet I think a shorter name is better. I think your plushie hedgehog is called Mr. Prickly?’

‘I named him when I was a child,’ Alastair said. ‘I’m not naming my pet something stupid.’

‘No little pipsqueak?’ Thomas said with a grin.

Alastair rolled his eyes. ‘Absolutely not.’

***

‘You mean to say you forgot to buy Alastair a gift for his birthday?’ Lucie asked.

‘I didn’t forget,’ Cordelia said. ‘I planned to do it today, after school. How was I supposed to know I was going to get detention?’

They entered the bookstore, certain she could find something Alastair would like here.

‘Sorry I couldn’t get you out,’ Lucie said. ‘Even my dad can’t do that, but he knows it was completely unfair.’

Cordelia shrugged. ‘I finished my homework. But I’m still pissed.’

She knew teachers tended to be harsher on her, Alastair had always had the same problem, and she usually made a point to behave but she also wasn’t going to let people just walk over her girlfriend. So what if she’d gotten into a fight with a bully? He’d started it, but that’s not how the teacher who’d broken them apart saw it.

‘Alastair will understand,’ Cordelia added. ‘He was often sent to detention unfairly too. Now, which of these books do you think he’ll like?’

‘Both seem pretty good,’ Lucie said. ‘What are they about?’

‘This one’s called Malice, and is a Sleeping Beauty retelling focused on Alyce, the dark grace with powers similar to the original evil witch who cursed the princesses, and she might be the villain but she might also fall in love with Aurora. I haven’t read it, but it sounds awesome. The other is Girl, Serpent, Thorn.’

‘Oh, didn’t I lend you that one last year?’

‘Yes,’ Cordelia said. ‘It was awesome and the cover is so beautiful I wanted my own copy. I think Alastair will like it too, the world is inspired by Persian culture and the Shahnameh, which he loves, and the story is very good too.’

Girl, Serpent, Thorn was probably one of her favorite books, and Cordelia ultimately decided to buy it for herself while buying Malice for Alastair. He could always borrow the other book from her, she just wanted to reread it several times and have the gorgeous cover on display.

‘I doubt Alastair minds we’re late,’ Cordelia said. ‘He’s been spending the day with Thomas.’

Cordelia sometimes envied the amount of free time Alastair had compared to her. She hoped it would be the same once she went to university. Of course, Alastair had his memory, he only had to read everything once and he would remember forever. He could save so much time that way.

It still struck her as odd how they didn’t understand Alastair’s memory. Lucie was the way she was because her grandfather was the thief of souls. Same for Tessa, who’d gotten some of her power back after his death. Thomas had the sight because his mother did, and Kamala had healing powers because a fairy had given them to her. But no one knew why Alastair was the way he was. Cordelia knew it still frustrated him, not understanding.

‘I can’t wait until I can go to university,’ Lucie said. ‘I am so done with physics.’

‘Why did you take physics?’ Cordelia asked.

‘No clue,’ Lucie said. ‘I’ll survive another year. Then it’s English literature and creative writing.’

Cordelia wished she knew what she was going to study. Half her biology class was already working on their med school applications, but Cordelia had no clue yet. At least she couldn’t really picture herself as a doctor. Part of her still wanted to be a hero, but what if like Jem she decided to retire early? Being a hero didn’t exactly pay, and it was good to have some education. She just didn’t know what. She knew, of course, it was fine to choose wrong at first. Alastair had realized being a politician wasn’t for him, and was again starting in his first year.

‘At least Alastair promised to help me with my math homework,’ Cordelia said.

Cordelia and Lucie took the metro and arrived at Jem’s house. She’d been here frequently since the summer, and it already felt like Alastair’s house. She’d considered moving in herself too, but felt like she was still too young to move away from her mother and would rather stay for now.

Alastair and Thomas were in the living room, where an animal home was standing on the table next to a bit of neatly folded wrapping paper, not a tear in sight. Alastair had always been a little obsessive in the way he opened gifts. The wrapping paper would be thrown away, yet he always opened it with such a care and he never ripped anything.

‘Happy birthday,’ she said, hugging her brother.

He’d grown more comfortable with physical affection lately, and for Cordelia it felt like it had become easier to reach him. She’d had to get used to not living in the same house as him at first, but Alastair seemed happier here.

‘Thank you,’ Alastair said. ‘I’m officially on the waiting list for a pet hedgehog. It might take some time, but I have some of the supplies I need now. I am open to name suggestions as I have not thought of anything yet.’

‘Pipsqueak!’ Lucie called out.

‘Oddly, you’re not the first person to suggest that,’ Alastair said. ‘No, I am not naming my pet Pipsqueak.’

‘That’s because I already call Alastair that,’ Thomas said.

Alastair rolled his eyes. ‘My hedgehog will have a serious name, not something a toddler would have chosen.’

They didn’t settle on a name yet that evening. Lucie kept suggesting the kind of names Alastair meant to avoid as a joke, and Eugenia did the same when she and Kamala arrived. Kamala had a few good suggestions, and Alastair decided to look into Persian pet names.

Cordelia started feeling like things would be alright again, like things would be normal. Of course, she could never be sure. Tatiana had not turned up again, Gideon had reported her missing and so far the police had no leads. Cordelia didn’t think they’d find her, and she wondered if Tatiana would come back. There was no chance she could bring back her son, not anymore, but Cordelia feared she might want revenge. Right now, she tried not to worry. She would be prepared, yes, but she would also continue to live her life, go to school, worry about things normal girls her age should be worried about. Alastair seemed to be doing a little better as well, although she knew his EMDR days were hard. He was playing music again, and Cordelia loved to listen to him play the piano while she was here.

‘Do you want to play something?’ Cordelia asked at some point, gesturing to the piano.

‘Of course,’ Alastair said. ‘Thomas, I need your help.’

‘I didn’t bring my guitar,’ Thomas said nervously.

‘I don’t need you to play, I need you to turn the page of the sheet music. One of these days I’m going to make a copy and tape this piece together, but it’s 5 pages long.’

Cordelia would always be impressed at how fast Alastair could move his fingers over the keys. He’d tried to teach her when she was younger and she could play some simple melodies with her right hand only, but she’d never gotten the hang of playing with two hands.

‘I recognize this,’ Lucie said when Alastair was finished. ‘I think it’s in Pride and Prejudice. The one with Colin Firth.’

‘That’s possible, it’s well known. The Turkish March by Mozart,’ Alastair said. ‘I’ve been practicing this for the past week.’

‘It’s lovely,’ Cordelia said. ‘I missed hearing you play.’

‘And now you only get to listen when you’re here,’ Alastair said apologetically.

‘I’m here several days a week anyway,’ Cordelia said. ‘I’m glad you’re playing again.’

‘I forgot how much I loved it,’ Alastair said. ‘But I’m happy too. Even Church likes it when I play.’

Cordelia noticed the cat was sitting up from his spot on the couch, listening intently as Alastair started playing something else. Church might hate everyone and everything, but he loved Jem and he loved music.

Thomas continued to do his job as page turner and Cordelia could see the adoration in his eyes as he watched Alastair play. She was glad they’d been able to work it out and were still together, Alastair deserved that.

When Alastair was finished, Lucie decided to present her gift, which was a story she’d written herself in an insanely short time. Cordelia had read it and helped her edit, but the premise was that it was Frozen but with Alastair and Cordelia as the main characters.

‘I’m going to read it as soon as I have the time,’ Alastair promised. ‘This sounds brilliant.’

Huh... Alright, I'm doing... I think I'm doing it...

This is my very first fanfic ever... I'm still learning... This is a part 1 thing... I'm currently in the middle of a university exam period, so I couldn't finish the whole story yet, but I will as soon as I can, but I don't want to wait anymore... My English is okay-ish... It's not my native language, so there maybe some grammatical mistakes, I hope it's still readable... I tried my best... Just bear with me, I'll try to learn and improve... I'm very nervous...

Facts about the story: there is no age mentioning, Reader is around 25-26, I made Daniel younger in my head, 34-36 (single, no wife, no kids, let's respect the real Brühl family), Reader is female, I am Hungarian as well (possible Hungarian language in the future), I'm studying Russian (possible Russian language in the future), and I just started learning German, I used translater (sorry if I messed it up but, I really tried, please tell me if it's horrible), and one more thing... I have never met Daniel, nor I went to Berlin (yet, I really want to, and planning)... All of this are imagination, dreaming, and a little searching...

Warnings: none?... i think?... Apart from the horrible language uses and horrible jokes... Maybe swearing.

(Bad) Summary: a Hungarian girl goes to Berlin with a Russian friend of hers, as tourists. They always wanted to visit the city (not because Reader has a crush on the one and only Daniel Brühl, and wants to go to his tapas bar...of course). When the Reader goes back alone to the bar, Daniel is there too... The big meeting, adventures, fun, love, shitty romcom vibes ahead... (i hope the story is better than the summary...)

And now, after this awkward rambling, I present to you:

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

With Love from Berlin

Part 1

You couldn’t believe it. Finally, after months of preparation, you and your best friend were finally here, in the heart of Germany, Berlin. It was very different from what you were used to. Coming from a small city from Hungary, this was way bigger than your imagination. All kinds of people from different cultures merged into one. Museums, cafes, bars, restaurants, you didn’t even know where to begin. You took a deep breath in your hotel room. Your friend insisted on getting different rooms, in case she or you find someone to have a good time, if you know what I mean. Well, rather your friend, than you. You wanted to come here after many years, and you were finally here, so you want to experience as much of this city as you possibly could, you’re not gonna waste your time on a random (or more, glancing at your friend) man. 

You arrived at the hotel around 1.00pm, so you decided to go get some lunch somewhere close. You were a little bit tired of the long hours on the train. Just around a corner from where you were staying there was a tapas bar. Bar Raval. Your friend wasn’t really into movies that much, or actors in particular, but you knew that place, although you have never been there. You didn’t think about yourself as a “fangirl”, but you really admired the work of Daniel Brühl. You knew there was little to no chance that you could get even a tiny glance of him, but in over all: you would be happy just to say that you were in his bar. Your friend liked Spanish cuisine, so it didn’t take much to convince her to eat there. 

A Hungarian and a Russian woman walked into a Spanish restaurant in Germany, Berlin. Sounded comical. The place looked very friendly and funky. There were some people, not really a crowd. You decided to sit in the corner, with your back to the wall, so you can observe your surroundings. Your friend sits down opposite you. A waiter comes up to you:

- Willkommen! Was möchten Sie gerne? - he asked, looking between the two of you.

- Oh, sorry, we don’t really speak German. - you said with quite a thick Hungarian accent, because you got nervous due the potential language barrier.

- I see, It’s okay. We usually have all kinds of tourist here, so you’re good. What can I get for you two? - he asked with a welcoming smile.

You weren’t sure what you wanted to eat, you weren’t familiar with Spanish food at all, so you just trusted your friend to order something. She ordered something with pasta, and another thing with pasta. You had no idea what she just said. And some juice. She smiled at the waiter who scribbled down your order, and of he went. You looked around while you were waiting.

- It’s nice isn’t it?

- Yeah, it is. Quite bohemian. I would have guessed you would want to go to a traditional German restaurant. Why are we here? - smiled your friend knowingly.

- Well… You know…

- Is this the place of your man?

- What?! Shut up… - blushing - I just like his movies, that’s all… Anyway, I just liked the pictures of this place…

- ...and him…

- ...AND I wanted to check it out myself, ok?

- Ok-Ok...

You smiled at each other. You were best friends for years now, you could communicate without much of words. The waiter arrived with your plates. The food was good. In fact, more than good. In general, you prefer other cuisines, but you really liked this Spanish place. In Berlin. Odd, in the best way. After the lunch you went back to the hotel. Your friend wanted to go to a small club in the evening, so you decided to just chill throughout the afternoon. 

The traveling took the better of you, as you didn’t just not feel fresh after your nap, but you actually felt like shit. Your friend on the other hand really wanted to get going. So you assured her and yourself that it’s fine if you didn’t go to a club. She was a strong woman, and the club which she picked was just a couple of blocks away, so she decided, after she made sure that it is truly okay, to leave you behind in your room. You have never been a party-animal anyway, and you really just wanted to plan for tomorrow. There were so many things you wanted to watch in the city. After a few hours of planning and searching, you eventually fall asleep on the couch.

In the morning, luckily, you felt much better, more of yourself than in the previous afternoon. You took a shower, get dressed (purple converse, dark skinny jeans, blue tank-top and a blue/black checked shirt...nothing can go wrong dressing like this, you thought), grabbed your camo, ex-military little gym bag, locked your room’s door, and went to knock on your friend’s door. It took a few minutes, some groans, and other small noises, when she finally flung the door open. The sight was hideous.

- The hell happened to you? - you really tried not to laugh.

- Laugh, as you like… I had a good time. Drank more vodka that I could handle though…

- Are you alone or…?

- I am… Calm down, I didn’t get lied… Although I tried… But I didn’t!!! - she said quickly after she saw the frown on your face. - But I feel very shitty… My hangover is killing me, I didn’t give out anything yet… But I might throw up at any minute now…

- How can I help you? Stay with you? Bring you something from that little shop we saw yesterday?

- Some water would be nice… But I don’t want you to see me like this… And I will be fine, i’m just gonna rest today… You can go on on your sightseeing trip.

- Are you sure? I’m gladly staying with you…

- No, no! You wanted to come so badly, I don’t want to take a day away from you. I will be alright.

- You promise?

- I do. Please, just go. - she smiled at you.

- Alright. I’ll go grab you some water, and… I don’t know, go for a walk or something. Get breakfast.

- For the mentioning of food, your friend’s face went green and particularly jumped into her bathroom.

- I’m coming back in a minute or two! - you shouted after her, than closed her hotel room’s door.

You went down to get some water, some bread and some crackers which would be easy on her stomach, yet she still would be able to eat something throughout the day. You knocked on her door, which opened just slightly, an arm came out to take the bag from your hand, a small, weak “Спасибо” and just like that the door was closed again. You giggled to her door before you headed down to the street.

You honestly didn’t really want to explore many things without her, so you tried to keep your excitement low. You decided to go back to that bar where you ate your lunch yesterday. You liked it a lot, and it wasn’t a new place to discover, which meant that your friend wasn’t missing out on anything. You went to the bar. It was still early morning, not many people were there. A few old people, some of them are couples. The younger generation (yours) was probably still sleeping. Besides, the place was more like a lunch/dinner kind of place anyway. The waiter looked up and recognised you.

- Good morning! Alone this time?

- Good morning to you too! Yes, my friend had a wild party last night, and she is standing at the gates of Hell right now.

- That sounds bad. - he laughed.

- It is, she looked scary… - that made him chuckle.

- So what can i do for you today?

- I would like just a cappuccino, please.

- Alright, just sit down, I’m on it.

- Thank you!

You sat down at the exact place where you did yesterday, next to the window, with your back to the wall. You put down your bag, and looked around. With less people, the place looked cozier. You really did like it a lot. Eventually, your cappucino arrived. You thanked it, and tasted it. It was delicious. You were one of those people who liked to read next to a fresh coffee, and you always had a book around you. You took it out from your handy-dandy bag and started reading it, holding it a little up in your hands, leaned back on your chair. You were reading one of your favourite books (Pushkin - Anyegin), while sipping a good morning cappuccino, in a nice place. You just relaxed to the small sounds of the bar and sounds of the city, which infiltrated through the door and windows.

- Eine interessante Wahl von Buch am Morgen. Interessanter als eine Zeitung, das ist sicher...

No. Just...no. You were hallucinating. You felt like everything was frozen around you. From out of 2.8 millions of people (roughly), you would recognize this voice. His voice. You physically could not look up.

- Omm.. I’m sorry, I didn’t understand what you just said… - you said with the weakest voice and in the thickest accent ever, in your whole damn life. You hoped that if you make this man say another thing you fall back to reality.

- Oh, my bad - he giggled - I just said that it is an interesting choice of read in the morning, it sure is more interesting than a newspaper.

Shit, this was the reality. 

You dared to look up, and your eyes met the most chocolaty eyes ever on this whole planet, but at least in the whole of Berlin. The owner of those eyes was leaning on the chair opposite you.

- Hello. I’m the owner of this Bar, I’m Daniel. - he offered his hand to you.

- Hi, I kno...i mean I’m (Y/N), I’m the costumer…? - you finished with a questioning voice and all you wanted was for the ground to open, swallow you, and with that wipe you out of this universe. You shook his hand, without looking at him directly. His hands were warm and secure. After he released you, you closed your eyes, already feeling the burning sensation in your face. You heard a deep chuckle.

- Yeah, I guessed that. You’re not from Germany and you aren't British either, aren’t you?

You opened your (Y/E/C) eyes only to meet his curious ones.

- No, I’m not. I’m just a tourist here, I’m from Hungary.

- Oh, I’ve been there. It’s a lovely country. Would you mind if I sit down? - gesturing to the empty chair opposite from you.

- Yes… I mean no… - you took a deep breath - If you would like to you can sit with me. - This is just going great...

You earned another deep chuckle from the man in front of you, while he sat down.

- So… What are you doing here alone, in Berlin?

- I’m not alone.

- Oh… Anniversary? - for a moment you thought you saw something in his eyes. Sadness?

- Not that either. I don’t have anyone to celebrate such things. I came here with my friend, but she got wasted last night, and probably at the moment she is agonizing in her bathroom above the toilet.

- Hm… that’s not nice. - curiosity was coming back to his face.

The two of you stayed in silence. It wasn’t really uncomfortable, you were just terribly shy, and couldn’t stop blushing. You even tried to hide some of your face by leaning on one of your palms, and sipping your coffee.

This is aweful. Daniel f*ing Brühl is sitting opposite me, and I can’t even look at him. He must be thinking I’m one of those fangirls who just can’t keep it together before their idols. Which is true, but he shouldn’t have to know that…

But he wasn’t thinking that. Quite the opposite actually. You were so out of place in his bar, he had to approach you. There was something in you which made him intrigued. While you were trying to hide, which he found a little bit cute and entertaining, he tried to study you as well. There was something in you. He felt like he wanted to know your story.

- So what’s the plan for today?

...........

tumble | yg

↳ genre fluff, established relationship, slight smut at the end

↳ words 5k ↳ summary preparing for close friend’s wedding gifts is a given for young married couple. an unexpected encounter with an old flame led to an unwanted rekindled feelings but karma reminds you who your heart truly belongs to, because it’s all about the actions, not words.  ↳ notes this i wrote during first week of university of my final year, trying to run away from responsibility. midway, my friend @hellotherehoneybee​ was having a difficult week at hers too, so i wrote this extra fluff for her, i hope she noticed. thank you for working so hard! (i wish someone would comment on the work i put on the banners of each of my stories, but nevermind) ↳ warning attempts of infidelity (not by you) ↳ song ‘happiness is a butterfly’ lana del rey

Nimble fingers punched the numbers on the passcode pad, just outside the door. Crumpled papers on the floor. Supreme skateboards stacked on the wall. Yoongi walked in, greeted by a line of guitars at the corner of his studio. His attention was on the phone, preferring to text over calling. His face was shone by the light from it. His feet kicked away the crumpled papers on the floor to get to his computer. There’s a frame of baby breath on his table next to his stationery. A picture of you next to his desktop. Bothered by the melody he endlessly replayed in his head, he plans to record the notes in digital form. He hasn’t decided which work of his he wanted them in, but any of it would be just fine. Today, he is expecting a guest that will contribute to the guide. Jimin springs in first, as usual.

“Why do you lock the door knowing that I’m coming?!” Jimin groaned outside the door. He is leaning against the frames, knocking repeatedly.

This is exactly why he had those locks put up. Several young producers lined up. Yoongi is teaching them how to make music. With a wry look and dry greetings, Yoongi invited them in and started the meeting. The project is rather simple. Yoongi has provided a raw sample to the aspiring producers who will try to make lyrics. These melodies are then sung by Jimin. Yoongi whipped out his sample from his computer and he will give exactly 30 minute for the producers to think of ways to make the music a song. The young producers wrote down notes given by Yoongi. They write and they erase. They wrote and erased. Write. Scratch. Write. Scratch.

Noticing this, Yoongi gave a soft smile. It reminded him of himself when he was just starting. The uncertainty, the overwhelming feeling of not knowing if the lyrics are good enough, or just plain dumb. As an underground rapper with social anxiety, he was afraid to be ridiculed the most, and he is pretty sure that these producers have the same fear. What he is about to say is nothing new. In fact, he advises it frequently in his lectures. Clearing his throat and with the aura of a seasoned lyricist, he said,

“Go with your gut feelings. Understand the feel of the sample and what you could derive from it. Let your mind run wild. First rule of writing music is that there are no rules.”

He emphasizes on creativity. Jimin was trying to write the lyrics too. He wanted to learn to write faster. “Jimin, your problem is that you’re a perfectionist…” Yoongi spat, “Your mind goes haywire at the possibility of writing everything, you have no clear direction. That’s why it’s so hard. You select a theme, and you stay on it…”

“But Namjoon…” Jimin began.

“Namjoon is a genius. His diction is out of this world, and he has been writing lyrics for years. Don’t compare yourself to him or rather, learn with him rather than coming to me, uninvited,” Yoongi swivels in his chair as the three other producers hang their head low.

Jimin puckered his lips and muttered curses under his breath.

Yoongi reaches for the journal he kept by the book rack. When he opened them, a warranty card fell out. He crouches down to get them. It was from the phone you bought. He caught you buying a phone on an online store when he returns to the studio, earnestly picking a good one. You even asked him about these specs and technology terms you don’t know about. Some of it was written down as notes in this journal along with his own scribbles of song lyrics. You wanted to buy a phone for your mom and pretend that it was from your dad. Your mom always complains that your dad never gave her gifts and is reluctant to spend money on her. Yoongi didn’t need the extra information but you gave it to him anyway. Yoongi learnt from you that your mother had been using the same phone for a decade, and nothing can be updated anymore. And because your father isn’t doing anything about it but think about himself, you decide to buy your mom a good new phone. Saving your father’s face by pretending it was him who bought it.

You didn’t know this but, Yoongi fell in love with you once more.

That phone comes with a warranty card that is now made its home in his old journal. You know he wouldn’t throw any of his journals away.

Glancing at the digital clock on his shelf, he wondered, just how his favorite person in the world is doing…

Yoongi entertained questions from his students. Explaining the build up, the body, climax and ending. Sharing what is fun and what is not, in writing music. What’s cliché and what’s attention grabbing. But his explanation was cut halfway when his phone vibrated, and swiped his thumb over the caller ID and answered with a small, “Hello?”

Jimin and the students studied his face. At first, Yoongi seemed pretty laxed, and then he stood up, abruptly. Instantly and visibly tensed.

“Where are you?” Pause, “Okay, stay right there, I’ll be right over…” He grabs his coat from the hanger and his tongue glides along his drying lips upon ending the seemingly urgent call. He appears distressed but it is masked by his calm exterior.

“Is something the matter, hyung?” Jimin asked. “I have to leave, I am sorry because I  have to cut the classes short. Make sure you email me the verses by noon tomorrow. I will deduct marks for late submissions…” Yoongi said in one breath and yanked the door open, had them leave the studio at once and locked them.

Namjoon was standing outside the hall, watching Yoongi as he trudges through. The older one was putting on his jacket albeit roughly and as quickly as he could. Namjoon couldn’t even get a proper greeting in return. It seems Yoongi is troubled by something.

Troubled by something is indeed accurate.

A few hours ago.

You thought you made a great choice. It’s what you wanted when it was your wedding, and you’re sure that Jungkook would like it too. Knowing just how obsessed he is with having everything the same color code, the sapphire blue kohiki plates would have fit in right into his kitchen like it’s one of the built-in. Yoongi always thought that Jungkook’s gifts are the hardest to choose because he is picky, but also not very picky. He has specified interest but also not very specified. You know more than anything that Jungkook is neither of those things. Ever since you knew the boy, he had always been grateful for any gifts he was given. It didn’t matter how expensive or how rare, it’s the thought that counts. Many years ago, Jungkook came to your house, when you and Yoongi were still dating, and he frequently used the kohiki bowls you have. He said he liked it. That's how you came to decide that his wedding gift would be just that. For his wife, you don’t really know her well, but you had Yoongi book a Swarovski perfume after recognizing that she frequently carries the fun sized bottle around when she’s out.

“Would you like to also see the latest collection of our Kohiki plates, Mdm. Min?” the salesperson politely addresses you and you thought that simply looking wouldn’t hurt. You after all had time to kill today.

Your hands glide over the impressive finishing of the white kohiki plates, truly in awe of the time and the craftsmanship involved in making this. They came in many sizes and as you narrowed down to the end of the gallery, you recognized a collection so similar with the one at home. You turned to the salesperson with a beaming smile, almost child-like. The man bowed at you and explained to you how this particular collection was especially sought after and high in demand, they decided to keep it in collection. Yoongi’s personal family collection had been imitated countless times in the past centuries, they eventually trademarked the design to be named, Empire Min’s timeless collection. It had served countless royalties in the whole world and the tableware was of grand prestige. Sometimes, it dawns over you that you married quite an incredible man with a lineage of such esteem, comparable to those of aristocracy.

Min Yoongi’s family may have stranded far from the royals now, but the traces are there. His delectable face, porcelain skin and honey-succulent voice, are as good as a blue bloods’. His family registrar was kept in the national museum and you had a glimpse of it during Chuseok every year, where they pay homage to his ancestors and it’s quite unbelievable that something from centuries ago was still available today. You didn’t ask a lot about how his family branched off the King, but you do know that the surname Min belonged to four most important Queens in the Joseon dynasty. Is that where his beauty originates from?

You smiled to yourself as you saw his signature underneath the gallery as the last few descendants of the Queen.

“The gifts are wrapped up, we will have it shipped personally to Mr. Jeon Jungkook as per addressed…” the salesman ensured you with an assuring voice.

Kohiki plates aren’t cheap to say the least. But Min Yoongi doesn’t like you worrying about it. Much less, he’d rather have you spend his hard-earned money because he doesn’t always know what you like. One last thing, a visit to the gallery with your trustee art enthusiast, Kim Namjoon.

He stride over as he ended the call. He looks everly dashing in those turtlenecks and grey blazer. His pectorals and buff body looks great in it. He wore those glasses that made him look like he was a postdoctoral student. Only he isn’t. He shoves his phone into his breast-pocket and his face shifted from a serious one to a cheeky expression. He presented his arm for you to take and embraced in a small talk with you.

“You just ended your lecture?” you asked him. “It took a little longer than planned, sorry about that…” he chuckles, handsomely.

“This gallery better be lit…” “You won’t be sorry. I promise.”

Namjoon guides you into an exhibition, guarded by several men in black suits and ear-pieces. The whole way there, you realized that there was no one around. It is only given, because Namjoon owns it. It seems he had it shut down for the day, because the most important painting is arriving from Versailles, and he wants nobody to have a look on it. Except you, of course. And it’s easier to do painting shopping without people hustling in and out trying to catch a glimpse of the ‘Kim Namjoon’. Namjoon talked to you about the randomness of things as he introduces to you his favorite works. He was talking about his sudden trip to Paris and how he regrets it, then talking about a wrong purchase and the books he is currently reading. All in a quiet voice, the kind you give to your lovers.

But you know that’s just Namjoon being flirtatious like it’s his second name.

Suddenly, you stopped in your tracks. This section of the gallery feels like it’s cut off from the rest. It has been endless modern art since the entrance until a few paintings back. This one felt like it was Rome or the Renaissance. The sculptures and dramatic scenes, the skin tones and flesh, it was a whole other world. You turned to Namjoon, questioning him with your eyes. You know him well enough to know that he doesn’t like this type of art.

“I had a change of heart… while trying to understand yours,” he confessed. And it sounded strange because he let those words glide out as if he had no control over it.   He stepped back, pressed his lips together for saying more than he thought necessary, dropped his shoulder and turned to the art he loved.

“I understand it now,” he added, speaking to the frames, “Why do you like them so much… There’s so many stories to tell from each of these characters…”

You remember explaining to him about eyes in realistic paintings. How you wonder what they’ve seen, and what they have experienced. These endless thoughts usually trouble Namjoon, up to when he was about to sleep. You look beyond the surface of this painting and put feelings in them. That’s when he realized that emotions can be painted. Namjoon owed it to you, to having understood himself. And as he explained just how your art classes changed his perspective in life, he introduced to you the painting he thinks fit Jungkook the most. When you saw this painting unveiled before your eyes, you couldn’t agree more. It would look best in his spacious living room. Namjoon watched you as you signed the insurance paper to deliver the artwork. Watching you from afar like this felt foreign. With the history you both had, who would have thought that he would spend his life dreading the future he could have had with you.

It is all too late now.

The ring around your finger isn’t his. Maybe it’s for the better. He couldn’t have cared for you better than Yoongi does.

The most difficult thing about this relationship is, getting stuck between caring too much, and not caring at all.

“So you’ll deliver them to Jungkook’s house soon?” your eyes darted up at him as he approached the table.

“Leave it to me…” he said with a broad smile and dire confidence from a seasoned seller. A billion dollar man like him, could get away with anything with that smile.

Namjoon hooks his finger around the flaps of the door handle of your car and watches you climb in. Winding the window down, he rests his elbows and fixes his eyes on you, a coy smile on his pretty lips. You darted at him a look. A look you’d give to your malice doing little brother to warn him.

“Go on dates, go meet people, Namjoon… How long will you live this way?” “How would you know I’m not meeting people?” “You stacked books in my online bookstore, and still use my Netflix account to watch movies…” “Books and movies are better companions.”

You looked at him through your lashes and in those particular moments of silence, glances were exchanged and feeling somehow attempted to rekindle, however, before it could, you looked away.

“I’m going to Yoongi’s office, I’ll tell him you said hi…” “But I didn’t…” “Goodbye, Namjoon.”

The white Mazda CX-3 glides away, seamlessly. Stopped at the junction, and entered the main road. All these while, Namjoon kept watching. And it seems like, all his life, he had been watching. Because that was all what he was courageous enough to do.

“‘She loved him too early, and he loved her too late…” Namjoon muttered to himself.

At the junctions, your car pulls to a stop as the traffic light turns red. The building you were in were kilometers away but the scent of Namjoon’s body lotion hasn’t left. You always refrain from reading too much anything Namjoon does because you’re not who you were anymore. Your loyalty is with Min Yoongi now and it should be. Rather than feeling like you used to feel for Namjoon, it actually narrows more to pity. Namjoon had it all. He had your endless support, you had been his emotional anchor, and he had taken you for granted for many years. Eventually, you pick up your worth and search within yourself what you’ve given him. What you found out when you peel yourself away from everything that is Namjoon, is the fact that he had given you nothing but his concerns. There was no give and take. All he does is take.

Finding yourself, led you to finding Yoongi.

Yoongi was nothing easy to have. So it daunts you that difficult men might have been your type. Yoongi is rash and dry on his best day and even more harsh and unapologetic than anyone you have ever met. It came to a point where you exploded, thinking that even as life swallowed you whole and his arms was the only thing that could save you, you’d rather be swallowed whole. When Yoongi heard such a damning insult to his being, he got even. As harsh as Yoongi appears to be, he was a softie right under the flesh. Under his blank expression and inattentive eyes, he is all soul and bones. The more you know him, the more you realize that you both are strikingly alike. From the way you solve problems to the way he speaks, you both are a lot more common than you are different.

He is so intelligent and witty and blunt. You can ask him about literally anything and he always has an opinion about it. Because of his wide arrays of interest, you can never run out of topics to talk about. He is a great fun, and always adventurous although he prefers to whine about it at first. He said he hates camping but when you forced him to come with you, he looked like he has been camping his whole life. Lit the bonfire within seconds, adapted the forest life and just casually calm. The kind of calmness you hadn’t felt in awhile, you felt in Yoongi’s presence. Camping nights are always so romantic with him playing the guitars and you requesting songs you know he doesn’t know. There will be crinkles around his eyes before he looks down, embarrassed for not knowing that song. Once you give him a listen, he could play by ear.

He is adorable when he is confused or terribly tired. One night, he asked if you would come over his studio’s rooftop to spend time together. He spoke two sentences and fell asleep while you were talking. He unknowingly leaned his head on your shoulder as he dozes off. You brushed his hair away and thumbed his cheeks. His lips pouting cutely as he slept. You sat awfully still for hours, hours that he is still paying off with himself. To this day. It is astonishing how he could look like the cutest little kitty and also looked like he could swallow you whole.

His dangly multi earrings, gorgeous eyes and veiny arms, his multifaceted talents are as endless as his sweet words. Yoongi could make you feel heard without you saying a word.

The pedal planted to the ground, screeching tires and loud crashes. The windows on the driver side shattered and the airbag deployed. Loud ringing in your head as you try to gather your thoughts. What’s happened? You drove ahead a little more, because if you didn’t the road would have been congested. You pressed the hazard light on and parked on the side of the road to avoid other cars.

Hooking your fingers around the car handle, the door was pushed open. The car that collided with you stopped behind you. Your Mazda could continue driving but you don’t want to risk it because the shell of the tire was a little dented. The sharp ends were grazing your tire if you continued. The driver whose car you collided with was eerily quiet but he kept staring at an interval. You gathered your purse and fished for your phone.

“Please don’t get mad…” you huffed, “I got into an accident…” The back of your wrist on your forehead as you looked around in worry.

“I am at a round-a-about pass on Samsung Building 77 street… I’ll send the location,��� you breathed, oddly a little calmer than he expected you to be. It all happens too quickly. You weren’t sure who was in the wrong. The last thing you remember was using the signal stick to turn to the right and the car on the right wanted to head to the left, surreptitiously ignoring the signal you gave. It seemed ages for Yoongi to get there, but when he did, he parked a little further and got off the car, jogging to where you are. Your eyes stung and got watery as he came to get you. You were so grateful that he wasn’t angry and in fact, just wanted to know where you were so he could be where you are. He held onto your hand as he went to inspect the car and its damages.

“What are you going to do with my headlight?” the owner of the other car came over, uninvited. Yoongi instinctively pulls you behind him at the forwardness of this man.

“Take it easy, let’s check the dashcam to see who was actually in the wrong, let’s take this to the police station…”

“What police station, it is more than obvious that she was driving recklessly and not paying attention!” The man tried to go over Yoongi to get to you but Yoongi held his palm outward at this rude man.

“Like I said, we will take this to the police station and they’ll decide who is in the wrong and needs to pay for the damages…” Yoongi once again marched against this man and stared dead into his eyes while dialing on his phone. He placed his phone on his ear and continued to warn the man with his body language.

“The insurance company? Yes, I have a car you need to tow. We’re along Samsung 77th Street by the roundabout, how long will you take to get here? 10 minutes, okay…” Yoongi spoke on the phone. You held onto Yoongi’s arm tighter. One hand in his tight grip, the other clawing on his sleeves, slightly below his elbow. Your eyes unfocused. You were biting your lips. Chewing on them.

Yoongi climbed into his car after you. Pressed the car engine on and thumbed your knee. You weren’t as calm now.

“What if it is actually my fault? What if I was the one driving foolishly…?” You stuttered.

“We will let the police decide okay? We hadn’t even seen the footage from the dash cam yet, he could just be manipulating you to think that you were in the wrong, just by the look on his face I know he’s the type to drive like a drunkard and blame people for his mistakes…” Yoongi’s large palm covered your entire knee.

“You want jellies?” he tries to console you. “What about the car?” you looked over the car seat to the view of your stranded Mazda.

“The insurance company will have it towed, don’t worry… It’ll be okay,” he smiles and chuckles lightly, “This isn’t a big deal, accidents happen all the time, honey.”

The car pulled to a stop at the red traffic light, and he extended his arm to gather your hand to kiss your knuckles. You looked at him with watery eyes, full of guilt and despair and you said to him in broken voice,

“I’m so s-sorry… I’ve troubled you,” you bursted into tears, “I just went out to get gifts for Jungkook’s wedding and it all happened so fast…” Yoongi gathered your head in one hand, pulling your face into his nape. He plants kisses on your head and fondly smiles against your hair. . . . .

The police decided to hold the man accountable. He was clearly changing lanes without signals, and he was also ignoring your obvious signals. Not only was he driving past the speed limit at a roundabout in broad daylight, he had the audacity to shift the blames towards you. The dash cam was proof that he was a reckless driver so he had his driving license suspended and he had to pay for damages you faced. Yoongi laced his fingers into the gaps of yours as he turned around from the man. Yoongi smiled smugly and took you out of the police station. With the reports done and you were acquitted from any traffic misconduct, the car insurance company will cater to all the repairing. Yoongi will have to drive you everywhere for now but it wasn’t something he minds doing.

You let go of his hand and proceed to walk to the car, hugging yourself while he watches you from behind. Your steps weren’t hurried, rather they were a bit slow but for some reason you thought it was far better to not hold him. In your head, you are still scolding yourself and knowing you as far as he did, he understood it. He climbs into the car, avoiding eye contact as his index finger sunk into the engine button. You were dazed, looking out the window at everything on the outside. Noticing this, Yoongi stops by your favorite mall. He said he wanted to get some tools and appliances for the sink at home. Every three months, Yoongi would have the sink maintained by pouring cleaning liquid and have it stay there overnight so it won’t clog anytime soon. Usually, when this happens, he would buy dinners outside and take you out for breakfast the next morning.

Both of you once experienced the sink clogging before, and the whole kitchen was flooded with foul-smelling liquid. To make matters worse, Yoongi was away for business in Tokyo, and you had to handle them alone. Some plumbers walked in to help, and even if Yoongi was grateful for their help, he would rather his house be under his maintenance. That's why he keeps a schedule for every heavy duty appliance in the house. This is to avoid unnecessary over spending and inviting unnecessary people inside the house. He has a yearly check for the washing machine, the refrigerator, the electric stove, the air-conditioners and the oven. He is always making sure that everything is safe for you to use.

With the car parked so swiftly, Yoongi joins you in the mall's lobby. There aren’t many people around since it’s weekdays. And as if you remembered that you needed a conversation, you jerked your head up and to the side, at your husband.

“Oh right! You have a class today?” “Sent them home early with an assignment to mark later…”

He pauses, momentarily. Lifting his left wrist for the time, he yanked his sleeve up. He then, out of a sudden let out a sigh,

“Should we have dinner here or…” his voice drawls, “I plan to start on the sink right away when we get home…” “That sounds great, I don’t feel like cooking…”

You lifted your eyes at the elevator door opening before you. Yoongi lets you step in first. You move to the back of the elevator at the corner, by habit and Yoongi joins you. He could see from your face that the accident hadn’t left your mind. So when the elevator arrived at the second floor, instead of the fourth where the hardware stores were, he took your hand and walked out. You didn’t question him right away but you thought it was odd.

“Ice-cream…” he beamed at you.

He ordered your favorite. Waffles, drizzled with chocolate syrup and some fruits. Then you talked about Jungkook’s wedding gifts and plans on that day. He asked you about the venues since you were the one that booked them. You excitedly say that it was in great shape. The venue was a garden, it has this magnificent backdrop of a man-made lake and Jungkook’s fiancé loved the idea of exchanging vows at the view. However, your smile swept away when you spoke about the wedding dress.

“Why?” Yoongi spoke softly. “Because she seemed conflicted to follow what her friends’ recommended instead of what she truly wanted. She texted me yesterday, saying that she hated her wedding dress,” your shoulders dropped. “Why did she hate them?” “Her friends basically forced her to get this dress from a designer they know. From what I heard he was pretty famous, but she originally wanted her old classmate to make one for her. So now she regrets it, because the dress was not her style,” you sighed yet again.

Yoongi looked at you through his bangs and a small smile formed in the corner of his lips. Always taking in other peoples’ problems as your own, always thinking of others and always solving other people’s problems like your own. Yoongi could feel how devastated you were to hear that story first hand, and he is certain, as you were scooping those waffles into your mouth, you are thinking of ways to fix it. Typical. When you make a folded taco, you would take the ugliest one so he could have the prettier sets. When you buy medical supplies, you always make two purchases, one for him. The bigger portion of cake is for him, the larger piece, the better half. Even when you ate something you think is tasty, you would buy one for him at home.

In one ways or another, you are constantly thinking of him. It gives him butterflies. How lucky was he to be able to find you. How can someone look past such a genuinely beautiful person. Inside and out. Whose love is this true and this devoted. Only a dire fool, that is.

From the ways you love him, he is most certain that you haven't changed any part of you.

“Oh!” you exclaimed, “I bought you something… I saw this at the bookstore, it's a moon and star water globe and I thought it would look good on your studio desk…” You rummaged your bag for the item while your husband sat there, staring at you with a fond smile. Literally, a woman’s bag is a wonder. There’s all kinds of things in there. Receipts from 5 years ago, set of cutleries for travelling, hand sanitizer, tissues, a notepad, a glue gun and candies. Coins.

He picks the old receipts up between his index finger and middle finger.

“Why do you keep these things?” he chuckles. You looked over at him and snatched them.

“Are you worried that a cop may come and ask you, where were you, four years ago at 2:53 pm so you can whip out that receipt from your back and be like, ‘I was at the Hunts Restaurant sir, I had a bento and tea. I have receipts to prove it?’ For your alibi?”

“I might…” you dashed. Half of your head disappeared into the bag, still looking for the globe.

Yoongi picks up Band-Aids, some unopened menstrual pads and coupons from your favorite pizza place that expired four months ago.

“Honestly…” he comments.

“Aha!” You exclaimed, “The globe…”

The globe, like its name, has moon and stars on it. His nimble fingers examined it, closely. You were so expectant of what he’ll say.

“It’s pretty…” he said. “Isn’t it…” you gushed.

You return them into your bag because Yoongi don’t have one. Once again, you reminded him to put them on his table later on. He assures you he will, he even kept it in the car’s dashboard, so that when he returns to the office, he’ll make sure to take it with him. On the ride back home, you fell asleep. He made sure that he went over the bumps on the road gently, making his turns like a grandma on the wheel. He parked the car and waited. Fishing out his phone and he took pictures of you sleeping. He scrolls down messages from work, check on items he bought online, read a few emails...

Then you inhaled sharply, awake. Stretching your fingers.

“Why didn’t you wake me up?” you mewled sleepily. “Based on experience, you take 10-15 minutes to wake up when the car stops... “ he nonchalantly passed. You smiled at his bluntness. He endured 10-15 minutes of silence with his sleeping wife despite the turmoil he went through today. You couldn’t have married a better man. Even if there was a better man out there, if it isn’t Yoongi, you don’t want him.

Yoongi wasn’t lying when he said he wants to work on the sink immediately. You held the torch while he examined the sink. He wants to change the tap and clean the drainage hole. While he was struggling under the counter, you can’t help thinking that you were so fortunate. From how he handles things, to how he comforted you in times of need, to how he is made of husband material, you are certain, that God made this one, especially for you.

When he rolled out from underneath the sink, he caught you daydreaming. And he threw a sheepish smile at you. His thin white shirt is now drenched with spots of sweats on his chest and along his back. And he snarkily say,

“Wanna shower?”

You bit your lips at his remarks, playing coy at his forwardness. When in all honesty, you were down for it. And all the showers you will have in the future. . . .

Deep in you, knees dug into the mattress, between your thighs. His veiny arms gripping hard on the bed sheet. The sounds of heavy paintings, squelching cascaded in the room. He hovers sloppy kisses along your jaws like he was possessed and he said in his husky voice,

“That guy Namjoon… don’t feel right…” “I’ve been meaning to…” hisses in the delectable pain, “Talk about him…”

You propped your elbows up, leaning against it, brushing sweaty skin with Yoongi, you spoke is rasps,

“He said some strange things, so I am going to… delete him.”

Yoongi bit his smile, his porcelain skin glistening with the sweat that drenched him. His hand glides down your torso, with touches so hungry and starved kisses. He drew out a long deep moan, dove his face into your neck, chanted your name like a mantra--like a man standing on the verge of sanity, licking on the taste of infinity. .

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Copyright © February 8th, 2021 namjoonchronicles do not repost, and thank you for reading! Likes and reblogs makes me happy!

Hiii I hope ur doing well ! 🥰 can I ask for prompt 21 with Heejin? Thank you!! Have an amazing day <3

Heejin x Reader

Prompt n°21 : Artist

“Let me paint you in all those places you want to visit ?”

France, Lyon

Ah Paris ! That's what most people would say while visiting France for the first time but not you.

When offered the opportunity to go to France for a week you didn't wanted to be one of the typical tourist, so you decided to go to the newly considered second best city in the world, Lyon.

To be honest you didn't ever heard about Lyon before this magazine talked about it. Everybody just rather talk about Paris, the city of love. You learned that Lyon was for a long time a more important city then Paris, the fact that people only knew about Paris nowadays was unfair.

You were decided to change that, 

You had just arrived in the city and even though you were tired, you wanted to make the most of your time here. You settled to go to the hotel you were staying in before going for a walk around town.

Fast enough you got to the starting point of your visit, The Bellecour square with its famous statue representing King Louis XIV on his horse. He actually only came to Lyon once and he decided to own this square just because he felt like it, ‘what a King’ you thought when you learned the story behind this place.

No wonder he got beheaded.

However it was only the start of your visit, you went up on the Republic’s street, a well known street, appreciated for her numerous clothing’s stores. Contrary to those people looking for new clothes to spend money on, you were looking for something else.

Yet you had a hard time finding it, the street you were looking for, seemed not to be anywhere. Your foreigner self didn’t wanted to ask someone so you settled on looking where it was once you’ll get back at the hotel and go there only the day after. Not finding this street made you stop your tour, prefering to go rest for the next day to come, you had a lot to see and no time to waist.

As soon as you woke up the next day, you got breakfast and went straight for the hidden street. This time you had a map and were ready to see the famous "Passage de l'Argue". The street wasn't actually that famous, most people didn't really knew about its history but you had the chance to have had a online visit on the plane.

The documentary wasn't that good pretty boring actually but when they talked about this street, they explained how it had been first mentioned on a map of the 18th century and had never completly disappeared even when people destroyed it. The people at the time seemed to be attached to this street, they rebuild it over and over again until it became what it was today, a street full of luxurious shops and art galleries.

That's what brought you here in the first place, not shops but art. Of course there were museums in Lyon but as much as you loved them, they were often full of people and regulated with a limited time.

Here you had all the time in the world and not a single soul around because of the bad weather. Well that's what you thought until someone grabbed forcefully one of the painting you were looking at, off the wall where it was exhibited.

You brows furrowed, the girl in question didn't seemed to work in the gallery and you were wondering if she had the right to do that.

"Excuse me ? I don't think you're allowed to put it down."

When you pat the stranger's shoulder, she looked back at you angrily.

"I'm not stealing it if that's what you think I'm doing."

You took sometimes to observe her before answering, seeing how she had gloves over her hands and paint on her white shirt. For sure she was an artist but why would an artist and maybe the one who did the painting in the first would want to get it back ?

"And what exactly are you doing then ?"

She proceeded to put the painting in a tote bag before facing you completely and answering.

"Getting back what was stolen from me."

So she did made the painting, you thought.

"Isn't it good that you're painting is in an art gallery though ?"

The way she rolled her eyes and sighed showed you how she was annoyed to have to explain anything to a stranger but she chose to do it anyway. She probably didn't wanted you to call the police or tell anybody else.

She took a glance over her shoulder before looking at you again.

"Can we like get out of here before I'll tell you ?"

You probably shouldn't have agreed but for some reasons, that girl looked like an honest person and you couldn't help but trust her. 

“Lead the way, stranger.”

“Heejin.”

“Then lead the way, Heejin.”

As said, she led you towards a small bench in a small park nearby. There you two sat and she was finally able to explain you her terrible story. She told you about how she was due to give the gallery two paintings a week for a year and how lately she couldn’t beecause she was facing a uninspired time right now. She wasn’t able to paint so they took paintings that she didn’t anted to expose anyway.

Listening to Heejin, you knew you had to do something, you had to help her. 

“Did you get back all the paintings they stole ?”

Heejin thought for a moment before noding.

“But they’ll take them back, won’t they ?”

“Then help me find inspiration again before they do.”

You were stunned, someone you barely knew wanted you to help her in the most abstract way ever existing.”

“How do I do that ?”

“Let me paint you in all those places you want to visit ?”

You were hesitating but what were you risking anyway, it was a win-win situation, she’ll get her paintings and you’ll have a private guide of the city. 

That’s how Heejin and you started to spend all your days together and soon enough it wasn’t just a win-win situation anymore that brought you to see her but rather a need. 

She brought you to the nicest places of Lyon, you had visited more historical places than ever before and enjoyed every seconds of it.

Today was your last day together, since your flight was planned for tomorrow. Heejin gave you rendez-vous at a parc near what french people call ‘Croix-Rousse’ which was the name of the montaigne. Heejin was waiting for you on the bench, facing the horizon.

“Hey, did you wait for me long ?”

She turned her head to you, smiling.

“Toute ma vie...”

You frown, Heejin rarely talked french, mostly because she knew you couldn’t understand it.

“What does it mean ?”

“It means that don’t want to let you go.”

“Heejin, we already talked about this....”

You did talked about it a few days before but Heejin didn’t tell you how much it was breaking her heart to have to let you go. She grew attached to you, you spent all your time together of course she did. But most importantly you gave her back inspiration when nothing could.

It was hard for her to let you go and hard for you to leave.

That night after the memorable afternoon Heejin gave you, she brought you back to your hotel and runaway before you could say goodbye.

You almost didn’t took your plane the day after feeling too sad, you wished you had had proper goodbyes before parting away but she decided to let you go on your own.

Back home, your life had became pointless, no one was there to tell you about that painter who ate paint or about that curious drawing of a girl spiting flowers. You were feeling worst than ever, Heejin wasn’t responding at any of your texts and you believed it was because she found someone else after two months it was probable.

A knock on the door force you to leave the couch that became your bed since you returned. Opening the door, you got blinded by the light that had left your room since a long time and it took you some time before recognizing who was at the door.

“I must be dreaming..”

Heejin chuckled before putting in a tight hug.

“I knew you dream of me.”

Realization hit you like a truck.

“Ho..HOW ?! Why are you here ?”

“My contract with the gallery expired two weeks ago, I had to quarantine for a week but here I am now. Thought you could get rid of me ? I don’t think so.”

Hey here is the request, hope you’ll like it. Thanks for taking this prompt by the way, did you think it would be like that ? Did you thought about something else ? Tell me while giving me feedback. -Ael

(Google translated)

Dan Stevens, who grew up in Wales and south-east England, spent his summer holidays at the National Youth Theater at the age of 15, and he was drawn to the stage while studying English in Cambridge. Since his big breakthrough as Matthew Crawley in the hit series “Downton Abbey”, he has also repeatedly appeared in films such as “Inside Wikileaks - The Fifth Force”, “At Night in the Museum: The Secret Tomb” or “Beauty and the Beast” . Most recently, Stevens played the Russian Schnösel singer Lemtov in the Oscar-nominated comedy “Eurovision Song Contest: The Story of Fire Saga” from Netflix. At the beginning of June, the German film “Ich bin dein Mensch” by Maria Schrader celebrated at the Summer Berlinale Premiere, which starts on 1.7. comes to German cinemas regularly. Stevens plays the role of a love robot in it. Unlike on the screen, however, the 38-year-old prefers to speak English in the zoom-conducted interview. He chose a brick wall with a lion motif as the digital background. No allusion to the song “Lion of Love” from “Eurovision Song Contest”, but a photo of the famous Ishtar Gate in Berlin’s Pergamon Museum, where “I am your human” was filmed last summer.

Mr. Stevens, in your new film “I am your human” you play a humanoid robot that is entirely geared towards fulfilling the romantic needs of a skeptical scientist. You yourself recently described the film as “delightfully German”. How did you mean that?

I wanted to say that here pretty big questions - such as what actually makes a person or how much perfection love can take - are negotiated in a very light-footed, elegant and sometimes humorous way. In my experience that is a very German quality. At least I have often seen with many of my German colleagues and friends that they are very good at not discussing difficult issues exclusively deadly serious and melancholy.

Where does your personal connection to Germany and the German language come from?

My parents had friends who lived in Bielefeld and we used to visit them in North Rhine-Westphalia during the school holidays. Traveled from England by car! That’s how I learned a little German as a child, and later I learned it as a subject at school. I even did a short internship there through our friends in Bielefeld. I really love the language. Funnily enough, I was later able to use my knowledge of German professionally, because my first film was “Hilde”, in which I was next to Heike Makatsch played the British actor and director David Cameron, who was married to Hildegard Knef. After that, I always hoped that there might be another chance to speak German in front of the camera, because playing in a foreign language is an exciting challenge. When the chance arose to shoot “I am your person”, I could hardly believe my luck.

Did you know the director Maria Schrader who gave you this chance?

Funnily enough, when the script for the film landed on my table, I had just watched the Netflix series “Unorthodox”, which she directed. I had also watched a few episodes of “Deutschland 89”. In general, I knew that she was a great German actress, not least because friends who knew their way around the German theater scene often raved about her. Working with her was a joy now. Her understanding of actors is quite instinctive and brilliant. I have seldom seen someone who can help an actor who is having difficulties with a scene with such simple means.

The fact that you had already seen “Unorthodox” shows, of course, how quickly “I am your person” must have been implemented in the past year …

Oh yes, that was really quick. In March I was still in New York and was about to premiere a new play on Broadway. But then the pandemic came, everything was canceled and I flew back to my family in Los Angeles. A few weeks later, Maria and I met each other via Zoom - and shortly afterwards I was sitting outside in a café in the Berlin June sun for the first time in months to discuss the upcoming shoot with her. That was pretty surreal because I hadn’t actually left the house since March.

Is it correct that you oriented yourself to Cary Grant and Jimmy Stewart to portray the romantically programmed robot Tom?

In any case, these were role models that Maria and I spoke about. When you think of the game between the two of them, you always see an enormous clarity and directness. Cary Grant, for example, was always quite funny, especially in his romantic roles, but also flawless in an almost artificial way from today’s perspective. I found that very suitable for a robot. Apart from the fact that the ideas that Tom and his algorithm have of romance and love are certainly also shaped by the classic romantic comedies from Hollywood. Oh, the woman is sad, so I’ll bring her flowers! Such automatisms from the stories from back then were very appropriate for Tom now.

Keyword role models: Who shaped you in your career as an actor?

There were of course many. Jimmy Stewart was certainly something of a role model. My mom and I watched a lot of his films when I was little and I was always impressed by the kind of sweet tragedy that went into all of his roles. But maybe Robin Williams’ work influenced me even more. I always found the incredible variety of his films remarkable. He could make his audience laugh hysterically like no other, but also move them to tears in other roles. I always wanted to emulate this range.

In fact, the range of your roles is enormous and ranges from the Disney blockbuster “Beauty and the Beast” to a comic adaptation in series format such as “Legion” to bulky independent films such as “Her Smell” or the horror thriller “The Rental “, Which we just released on DVD. Is there a method behind this diversity?

Not in principle. I like variety, but I’m not just looking for roles that are as different as possible from one another. Rather, there are always similar factors that I use to select my projects. Sometimes there is a certain director that I really want to work with. Or the role itself is irresistible because it presents me with acting challenges. And sometimes a script is just fantastically written and I am interested in the topics it is about. With “I am your person” it was definitely the latter, especially since the timing was just right. In 2020 there were so many societal questions that ultimately touched the core of human existence. Such a script, which deals with something very similar in a light-footed way, was just fitting.

A few years ago you said in a questionnaire from the British Guardians that your greatest weakness was not being able to make up your mind. So every time you are offered a role, do you ponder whether you should accept?

No, no, when a script appeals to me, it actually does it very quickly. It’s such a gut feeling. If I’m unsure and skeptical, that’s a good indicator that this is not the right thing for me. That with the difficulty in making decisions related rather to something else. For example, it takes me forever to order in a restaurant because I can never decide what on the menu appeals to me the most.

You became famous with the role of Matthew Crawley in the series "Downton Abbey”. Did you immediately suspect at the time that something big was going on?

At first we were all pretty clueless. There are really many British history series, and we were one of them. When the first season aired in the US and was a huge success there, it was pretty unexpected. I never expected the impact the series would have on my career.

Barely ten years later, are you still being asked about the role?

Oh yes, regularly. Probably nothing will change about that either. I got out after three seasons!

In the meantime, however, the flamboyant Russian singer Alexander Lemtov from “Eurovision Song Contest: The Story of Fire Saga” should also be a character with whom you will be immediately associated, right?

Right, it has been mentioned more and more recently when people recognize me on the street. This charming, silly film obviously had a nerve with the audience last year in the middle of the corona pandemic. Especially since the real Eurovision Song Contest had been canceled.

The film was the number one topic of conversation on the Internet for a while - and Lemtov GIFs and memes were everywhere. Did you follow that?

It was really hard to avoid it. I wasn’t looking specifically for what people were posting. But of course my friends passed a lot on to me, and there were already some very funny Lemtov things. But he’s also a figure made for GIFs.

Another question every British actor under 40 has to put up with these days: Would you like to become the next James Bond?

Oh, of course, everyone gets to hear this question again and again who meets certain criteria. But it is completely hypothetical. Although a few years ago I read in an audio book by Ian Fleming’s “Casino Royale”.

You mentioned earlier that you and your family have lived in the United States for a long time. How big is your homesickness?

I actually feel very comfortable in Los Angeles. But every now and then I miss the sidewalk culture of European cities. People on foot, street cafes, things like that. Last year the longing for it was particularly great, although it was of course clear to me that there was a state of emergency in Europe too. In any case, I found myself reading books that were set in Europe and made me homesick. Which is why the unexpected trip to Berlin was really a boon.

You are also an avid cricketer. That’s certainly difficult in Los Angeles, isn’t it?

There are quite a few cricket clubs here. The only problem is that the few people who do the sport here are so good at it that I have problems keeping up. That’s why I always lose sight of the matter here a little. Even as a pure TV viewer, it is not easy to stay on the ball, because of course there is no cricket broadcast here at prime time. But as soon as I’m home in England in the summer, I really want to play again!

A Rose by Any Other Name

In which Min Yoongi finally takes Park Jimin out on a real, proper date.

(a little) snz-centric featuring a slightly allergic Yoongi and an incredibly endeared Jimin. 

Word Count: 3855

FlowerShop!AU Part 4

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

a/n: I...have no excuses. I’m in a mood. Bear with me again, lol. There will be a break from the boys I swear. That being said though, I still hope you guys find some enjoyment out of this silly little thing! 💕 side note if you happen to read this: for the next chapter are we wanting a yoongi focus or a jimin focus? I’m not going to give away whaaaat will be happening exactly, (you can maybe get a hint via the moodboard on my masterpost page lol) but -- If you have a preference please let me know! 

-

It took two full weeks for Yoongi’s cold to fully make its way through Jimin’s system. To Jimin, it really hadn’t been that bad. Once his fever had broken by day three, the remaining symptoms were simply a mild nuisance more than anything else. 

As he recovered, he made sure to thank Namjoon profusely for stepping in to help with his deliveries. The day off to rest had really been his saving grace, and there just weren’t enough gift baskets in the world that could truly express the proper amount of gratitude Jimin wanted to convey to his long-time friend. 

Just as Namjoon had promised, the deliveries went off without a hitch, and the man had ended up genuinely enjoying the work. So much so in fact, that he offered to keep it up during the day in order to ease Jimin’s workload. Touched that Namjoon even wanted to do so, the florist had happily agreed, and the two men hurried to work out the necessary details one-on-one. Not long after, Namjoon officially became the shop’s first real employee: a much-needed delivery driver who always seemed to have a smile on his face no matter the occasion. They were an unstoppable duo.

And then, there was Yoongi. 

As the two men took the time they needed to recover from each of their respected colds, they rarely missed a day of messaging. Once Yoongi had broken the ice about wanting to take Jimin on a date, there really was no stopping the mutual pining that only seemed to increase the more time they spent apart. To help combat this, Yoongi made sure not to shy away from showing up on Jimin’s doorstep once or twice to drop off things like Nyquil or ibuprofen. It was his own silly nod to the florist’s previous impromptu visit, and Jimin was always grateful whenever he’d choose to swing by, no matter how brief.

However now that it was two weeks later and both men were healthy, Jimin was in the process of getting ready for their first official date. 

He had been on dates before, of course — At twenty-five he had in fact been on a lot of dates — but something about this one had felt different right from the get go. Yoongi was unique. There was just something about him that had drawn Jimin in from the moment the man had set foot into his flower shop nearly a month prior. He held himself with a mysterious air of nonchalance that reminded Jimin of strolling through an art museum or laying down in the street while it rained. He was special, and Jimin had picked up on that right away. The florist was eager to learn more about what kind of a person he was underneath the cryptic layers he guarded himself with. In fact, he almost felt privileged that Yoongi seemed to want to share a new vulnerable side of himself with him, and open up more fully.

They had planned for dinner at some fancy restaurant that Jimin wasn’t familiar with but Yoongi swore up and down by. The man’s excitement of the choice in turn amped up Jimin’s own, and it left the florist feeling like a perfect fifty-fifty mix of anticipation and uneasiness.

Not wanting to overdress, Jimin ended up deciding on an outfit that felt both comfortable yet put together. It hugged his body in all the right places and made him feel confident and secure. His figure was one of his strongest personal assets, and he enjoyed showing it off when he could. Today was definitely not an exception. 

Jimin ended up ready for the date nearly a full hour before Yoongi was supposed to pick him up, and it left him spending most of his time pacing his apartment out of pure nervousness. He really liked Yoongi, and because of that, really didn’t want to mess anything up. He may’ve been a risk taker, but he was also prone to letting his anxieties get the better of him. This was especially true when it came to dates, and even more so when it came to Yoongi. 

In an attempt to distract himself, Jimin spent the rest of his time flipping through channels on his television. He tried to pay attention to a handful of shows, but his mind was elsewhere — too full of what was to come to keep up with any of the bad sitcom plots. 

By the time Yoongi texted him to let him know he was on his way, Jimin had flipped through at least thirty of the channels. The butterflies that swirled in his gut as he read the message caused his stomach to bubble with sour nausea. He let out a stuttering sigh and tried to calm himself down, running shaky hands through his hair before dragging them roughly down his face. He needed to snap himself out of it and he knew it. If he didn’t, he feared he might make himself sick. 

Taking another unsteady breath in through his nose, Jimin allowed his mind to wander to Namjoon and the way his friend had described his ex-coworker. He had said Yoongi was quiet, but had a heart of gold; was funny, but not someone you’d want to piss off. To Namjoon, Yoongi was actually a bit of an enigma, and he didn’t shy away from letting Jimin know this. The sensitive florist had been thankful for the forewarning as he’d had his heart broken one too many times to warrant it happening again. However, instead of being scared off by the prospect, he was left feeling only intrigued —  who really was Min Yoongi if even his co-workers hadn’t truly known him?

Jimin was abruptly pulled back to reality by a knock that echoed through his apartment. He swallowed thickly when he felt his heart leap into his throat and allowed himself one final deep breath to calm his nerves before rushing to the door. It was now or never.

As he pulled it open, there stood Min Yoongi. 

The man was dressed in a form fitting button up that he paired with a stylish black blazer and matching slacks. It was the most put together Jimin had ever seen him, and the sight made his heart race. He took it all in, eyeing the man up and down. He honed in on the little things like the specific way his bangs rested against his eyebrows, and the way his colourful tattoos poked out from beneath his tailored sleeves. He was breathtaking, but even so, what stunned Jimin the most was the single red rose that he held delicately in his left hand.

“Hey, Jimin.” Yoongi finally spoke, smiling softly at the florist.

“Yoongi,” Jimin breathed, a ghost of a smile pulling at his lips. “hey.”

Yoongi’s smile extended wider still, his gums poking out from beneath his lips as his eyes crinkled at the very corners. He extended the rose out to the other, and Jimin accepted it graciously.

“Before you ask, a friend of mine grows them.” He laughed at his own explanation and ran a knuckle against the underside of his nose. “I called in a favour. His are not quite as nice as yours, but I figured it would do.” He winked and Jimin instantly felt his cheeks warm as he averted his eyes, instead choosing to focus his attention on the gorgeous rose. If Yoongi kept up the sweet talking he fully expected to turn just as red as the flower in his hands.

“Anyway,” Yoongi continued as he stole a quick glance over his shoulder towards his still-running car. “Ready to get out of here?”

*

The city’s bustling nightlife sped by in gorgeous streaks of blues and reds as Yoongi drove the two towards their destination. Jimin was near mesmerized by the sights outside of his window as he typically didn’t spend much time on this end of the city, let alone spend said time out during the evening. He wasn’t really much of an extrovert by nature and ended up spending most of his evenings either scurrying around his shop or simply at home with a good book. He had initially pegged Yoongi as being the opposite — someone who used to bartend with Namjoon had to be as outgoing and boisterous as he. However, as he spent more time with the other, the confidence he originally had in this assumption began to falter. Now, he really didn’t know what to make of him. Getting to know Yoongi was like trying to read text in a language he wasn’t fluent in.

The pair spent the beginning of their drive in silence, the quietness of the car only being broken by Yoongi’s occasional sniffling as Jimin’s gaze stayed firmly locked onto the unexpected rose that he held in his hands. The man knew Jimin was aware of his allergy, and yet he had arrived on his doorstep with the beautiful flower anyway. Jimin was grateful, but he did find it a bit peculiar — why put yourself through the nuisance of an allergy for a simple gift? Because he was a florist? Because flowers were something he was passionate about? Maybe that was just the kind of person Yoongi was: someone who valued others’ joy over their own suffering. Jimin really didn’t know what to make of him or the gesture. 

Getting fed up with the silence and his own over-analytical thoughts, Jimin forced himself to pull his attention from the rose and instead to Yoongi, and mustered up as much courage as he could to try and start up a conversation.

“So…” He managed to huff as he crossed his legs, warranting a curious side eye from the other. “Do you take all of your first dates to this place?”

The question made Yoongi snort and he shook his head a bit at Jimin’s bluntness.

“Only the special ones.” He retaliated, stealing another glance at Jimin from behind the wheel as he swiped his thumb against his nose.

“And...how many of those were there?”

There was a pause as Yoongi allowed himself a moment to search for the right answer.

“Well, just you.”

Jimin felt his face flush instantly as he let his gaze fall back down to the rose held softly in his hands. He heard Yoongi chuckle fondly at his lack-of response and felt his blush deepen still. He seemed to know just what to say to make the blood rush to Jimin’s cheeks within seconds. He’d been able to do so since the day he walked into Jimin’s flower shop, and Jimin knew he was in trouble the very moment Yoongi had opened his mouth. It had been a long time since anyone had had this type of affect on him, and the prospect of what that meant made his stomach flip. Unsure of how to respond, Jimin simply continued to let Yoongi chuckle to himself and carefully fiddled with the petals of his flower. 

Just then, Yoongi’s laughter died on his tongue as a sudden wavering breath shuddered its way out of him. Acting fast, the man clamped his free hand down hard around his nose and ducked into himself, clearly trying to turn out of Jimin’s view as he forcefully stifled a sneeze into his palm. 

“huh—NGx’ttschhiuew!— shit, sorry.”

“Oh, bless you.” Jimin offered sympathetically as Yoongi straightened himself back up and sniffled into his hand. “It’s the rose, isn’t it? I should’ve left it at home.”

Yoongi waved off the other’s suggestion and fished a tissue out from the pocket of his blazer, bringing it up to dab at his nose.

“No, no, you’re fine. I expected you to bring it.” He scoffed, visibly annoyed by his own allergy. “It’s really my own fault. I didn’t think only one would get to me like this. Must just be the closed space of the car.”

Jimin hummed in agreeance as Yoongi sniffled sharply against his tissue. He couldn’t help but feel bad even though the other had really dug his own grave by bringing the flower as a gift in the first place.

“I mean,” Jimin started. “if it’ll help I can just get rid of it when we get to the—”

Yoongi’s free hand snapped to his chest and he gripped his shirt as if he’d be shot.

“Jimin.” He cut off the other with an over dramatic grimace plastered on his face. “Get rid of it? You wound me.”

Jimin shook his head, unable to suppress a laugh as it bubbled its way to the surface. He had only ever gotten small glimpses of Yoongi’s sense of humour in the short time they’d known each other, so he had found himself mostly unsure of what to expect. The man had always seemed so serious and stoic whereas Jimin considered himself to be a bit of a goofball. Laughter was important to him, and the fact that Yoongi was coaxing out waves of it only solidified Jimin’s infatuation.

“Hey,” Jimin managed through another laugh. “you know I didn’t mean it like that. It’s just...I remember how you got the last time, that’s all.”

“You mean how we got last time?” Yoongi retorted as he raked his fingers through his hair. There was a playful grin stuck on his face that made Jimin feel slightly self-cautious as he recalled their first encounter. Yoongi wasn’t lying — they were both a mess.

“That’s not fair.” Jimin groaned with a shake of his head. “I can’t help it.”

“Well, technically, neither can I.”

The florist let his rose fall delicately into his lap before folding his arms across his chest and sighing. Yoongi had a point, though their circumstances were vastly different. 

“Anyway, it doesn’t really matter,” Yoongi chuckled as he expertly brought his car around a tight bend. “We’re here.”

Jimin blinked in surprise and turned his attention back out of the passenger window as the pair turned into the restaurant's parking lot. 

Just from the outside alone Jimin could tell the restaurant was on the higher-end, and he couldn’t stop a small noise of surprise from slipping past his lips.

“It’s really good.” Yoongi assured him with a small sniff. Jimin wondered if the man misinterpreted his noise as apprehension. “Think...Asian-fusion. I figured since you liked sushi...” He trailed off, directing a small ticklish cough into his fist.

Jimin hummed and nodded, feeling his stomach flip as Yoongi shimmied his way out of the vehicle. After weeks of build up, the florist could scarcely believe they were finally here together going on a legitimate date. The whole situation almost felt surreal and it made his head swim as he exited the vehicle and stepped out into the cool evening air.

Jimin could smell Yoongi’s sweet cologne as the pair walked side-by-side towards the restaurant. It reminded him of fresh rain in the summertime and sweet, ripe tangerines. The smell contrasted slightly with his more intimidating outward appearance and it made Jimin smile to himself as Yoongi pulled open the heavy doors and gestured for him to go through.

Once inside, Yoongi was quick to take the reins. He led them towards the host stand and let the employee know that ‘Min’s reservation for two’ had arrived. Jimin wasn’t aware Yoongi had even made reservations. He felt himself blush as the host smiled wide, greeting Yoongi with an almost teasing-sounding ‘Mr. Min’ before grabbing two menus and instructing the pair to follow him ‘right this way’.

The table the host led them to was set off to the side in a slightly more secluded, private area. A candle burned brightly in the center of the table, illuminating the place settings and creating a romantic ambiance that made Jimin thickly swallow a lump that had lovingly decided to form in his throat. 

As the host motioned for the pair to sit, Yoongi suddenly snapped at the waist with a vicious sneeze he directed into a tissue that made both Jimin and their host flinch.

“Fuck, ‘m sorry.” The blonde managed, snuffling against his tissue as both men offered taken aback ‘bless yous’.

“Catching a cold, Yoongi?” The host asked. Jimin found it a little odd he chose to call him by his first name, but Yoongi didn’t seem at all phased and instead just shook his head.

“No, it’s…” he sighed, clearly fed up with himself, and simply gestured to Jimin’s rose. 

The same rose that Jimin hadn’t even realized was still clutched in his hand.

“Oh my god,” He exclaimed, taking a slight side step away from Yoongi. “I swear I didn’t even realize I was still holding onto this, I—” He swiveled in the direction of the host and extended the flower out to him with pleading eyes. “I’m so sorry, would you be able to keep this in the back until we’re finished? I don’t want to make him—”

Yoongi sneezed again.

“—don’t want to make him uncomfortable.”

The host happily obliged without hesitation, and Jimin was just able to make out the look of appreciation Yoongi shot him as they both took their seats.

As soon as the pair was settled, the host wasted no time listing off the restaurant’s specials as he held the rose behind his back. Jimin’s mind was buzzing too loudly to register much of what the man said, and when he ended by asking if he could grab any drinks, all Jimin could think to say was “water, please.”

“Are you sure?” Yoongi asked as he shoved his tissue back into his pocket. “Tonight’s on me, Jimin. Get whatever you like.”

Jimin flushed but insisted he was fine. Yoongi just shrugged and ordered himself some sort of cocktail that Jimin had vaguely registered as being both the restaurant's signature as well as on special that evening. 

The host smiled and Jimin thought he saw him waggle his eyebrows at Yoongi before walking off to enter in their drink orders. Yoongi rolled his eyes.

“Do you...know him?” Jimin questioned curiously.

“Who, Jungkook?” Yoongi asked, jutting his thumb in the direction that the host had gone. Jimin recognized the name from the host’s name tag and nodded in confirmation.

“Sort of.” Yoongi affirmed. “I’ve tattooed him a couple of times. Good kid, just goofy.”

Jimin hummed in response. He was aware that Yoongi was a tattoo artist but beyond that the man had never gone into much detail. For one reason or another, Jimin found it intriguing to get to see Yoongi’s clientele out in the wild.

Before long, Jungkook returned with their drinks, causing Jimin’s eyes to widen as he set down not only a glass of water but a second cocktail as well. He opened his mouth to object, but snapped it shut again when Jungkook winked and assured them it was on the house. Yoongi merely rolled his eyes for a second time and mumbled something about how he would make sure to sneak the kid a tip on their way out.

Now alone for a moment as they waited for their server to arrive, Yoongi wasted no time letting Jimin know what he thought was good, what the place was famous for, and what he recommended the other to try. Jimin couldn’t help but feel endeared by his uncharacteristic enthusiasm and insisted Yoongi order him whatever he thought was best. Once their server arrived — a cheerful man whose name tag read ‘Hoseok’ — Yoongi did just that.

“If you don’t like it, just let me know.” Yoongi instructed, swiping his forefinger against his nose. “I have no problem ordering you something else.”

“I’ll like it.” Jimin giggled, feeling his cheeks grow warm from a combination of giddiness and the few sips he had taken of his cocktail. “I’m not picky, so please don’t worry. I’ll try anything once.”

Yoongi raised his eyebrows at the statement and softly chuckled. It wasn’t until he responded that Jimin fully registered what had come out of his own mouth.

���I mean, it’s only our first date but...I guess that’s good to know.”

Jimin choked on another sip of his cocktail and made a grab for his cloth napkin, bringing it up to mouth to try and suppress a series of sputtering coughs. The whole display only seemed to make Yoongi laugh harder and he winked at the other as Hoseok swung by to drop off their appetizers. 

Jimin let out a sigh as he wiped his mouth with his napkin, murmuring an apology to Yoongi to which the blonde simply waved off. As Jimin readjusted, Yoongi was quick to explain which appetizer was which, and Jimin was more than happy to listen to him. There was something about Yoongi’s voice that he found naturally mesmerizing, and Jimin truly believed he could listen to him talk about absolutely anything for hours on end. Yoongi could easily make a story about watching paint dry sound like a New York Times bestseller.

The blonde was in the process of passing over a pair of chopsticks when the florist noticed his eyes start to unfocus mid-sentence. He raised an eyebrow curiously and opened his mouth to ask if everything was alright when Yoongi suddenly cut himself off with a sharp intake of breath.

“hHA’ISSHHhh’iuh!”

He fell into himself with a harsh sneeze he couldn’t contain; leaving delicate wet spots splayed haphazardly across the middle of his white button up shirt. He swore immediately and made a grab for his cloth napkin as a rosy red colour started to creep across his cheeks. 

“Bless you.” Jimin managed, desperately trying to ignore the way his own sinuses had started to prickle. He sniffled sharply and prayed it would be enough to alleviate the oncoming sensation. “You alright?”

“Yeah, just…” Yoongi blew out a breath, clearly embarrassed as he straightened himself back upwards. “Look, I’m really sorry about...all of this.” he gestured to himself with a self deprecating chuckle before continuing. “I’m starting to think the rose wasn’t my smartest idea. I just thought only one might not…” He trailed off with a shake of his head.

“You have no reason to be sorry.” Jimin reassured with a soft smile. “But for next time...I like chocolates, too.”

Yoongi raised an eyebrow at this.

“Next time, huh?” he echoed, his dark eyes glowing intensely. 

Jimin swallowed. Yoongi’s eyes were like the deepest part of the ocean and nearly twice as mysterious. He could hardly read the expression that sat just beyond them, and it made him fidget in his seat. Had he possibly overstepped his bounds? Had he been too cocky? Did Yoongi think he was —

All of Jimin’s intrusive thoughts were abruptly squashed as Yoongi reached across the table and interlocked his index finger gently with Jimin’s own. His hand was warm, aside from the cool metal of his rings, and he ran his thumb tenderly across Jimin’s knuckle with the smallest hint of a smile on his face.  

“I think I’d like that,” he murmured.

“Yeah,” Jimin breathed. “Me too.”

In love with your dark side | Final

• Pairing: Beauty!Taehyung x Beast!Yoongi • Genre: Fluff, bit of Angst | Rating: Teen and Up | Beautyandthebeast!AU / Fairytale!AU • Words: 4,5k | AO3 | Gifset Trailer • Disclaimer: anxiety, mentioning of a curse

written with @cassiavioletblue​

↳ Yoongi had tried not to think about what would happen if someone saw him but his mind had wandered through all of their possible reactions anyway: screaming, laughing, shock… he’s had so many horrible encounters in his mind and yet the boy in front of him didn’t react like in any of his thoughts.

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His gaze wandered around slowly, holding onto his folder tightly as he leaned over a glass vitrine to see a few pieces and information on the exhibition inside. He always loved the quiet of the museum and even here in midst of the entrance, he felt more home than he’d ever felt anywhere before. Taehyung couldn’t describe that feeling, but today it mixed with the anxiety of the reason why he was here. Instinctively he held on a little tighter to his folder, pressing it against his chest. A curious rustling came from behind him and Taehyung turned, when he saw an old lady peering out at him from behind the counter that he hadn’t seen before. 

“Oh, my…,” Taehyung clasped a hand to his chest and the woman laughed. She was clearly a museum volunteer, working late to close out the gift shop. Or maybe she was just tidying up after a busy day.

“Hello, Miss…do you happen to know where Mr. Kang is?” Taehyung asked, looking down to his watch. His meeting with him had been about five minutes ago but the owner of the museum hadn’t been showing up. Ever since he had promised Yoongi to take him out, Taehyung had been almost manic to find a museum, big or small to accept his art and photography.

Until now, he had only cancellations. And this right now seemed awfully like one of them.

“Oh, he has been out a while ago. He made me cancel all other applications. Didn’t I call you?” The woman was asking, and Taehyung sighed deeply, smiling at her even though everything in him just wanted to scream. He had dressed up, sorted his stuff anew and even came up with a new tactic to finally wrap them around his fingers. 

And there it was again: the secretary telling him that they already found someone else. Someone that suited them better.

Taehyung was out of ideas when he opened up his shop later that day, not wanting to tell Yoongi again that he hadn’t been able to make it. Maybe this was just an awful way of the universe telling him that he wasn’t it. Putting the folder onto his desk, Taehyung lit up the little sign that said ‘open’ and sat down with a pout on his lips. 

A woman came in with so much force that the little bells above the door were ringing like they were caught in a storm. Everything about her seemed bright; her red costume, her lips, her eyes as if her whole form demanded attention.

“Kim Taehyung?” She asked without so much as a greeting, looking like she was in a hurry. She wore high heels that were so dangerously high that for a moment Taehyung was scared she might fall and hurt herself with how fast she was coming towards him, but she was so steady as if it were totally normal for her to run around on high heels. “Why aren’t you at the museum?”

“Why…am I what?” Taehyung was so out of depth as she looked at him as if she knew exactly who he was while he had absolutely no clue. He got around his desk and motioned to the back, where he usually took the pictures for job applications that were a regular business. “Do you need me to take pictures for you? I’m sorry…I didn’t get your name when you came in.” He gave her a friendly smile and reached out his hand as if he had simply misheard her question about the museum. Maybe he was going crazy already. 

“We don’t have time for that now.” She waved a hand hectically as if she was scaring of some flies and then turned towards him with a frown. “The museum was waiting for you! You had an appointment there! Today!” She spoke overly clear as if she was trying to get Tae out of his daydreams. “They were expecting your pictures about three hours ago. An exhibition isn’t going to make itself! Now hurry up! Tell me which pictures you wanted to take, and we’ll get them out into the van. You can dress up later, nobody expects a suit for artists anyways nowadays, let the art speak for itself!”

“I was at the museum today, but my appointment got cancelled. Mr. Kang already found someone else, didn’t he told you?” He felt awful as if someone was rubbing his failures into his face one more time. 

She walked past him while talking, as if it wasn’t a big deal. “Your appointment didn’t get cancelled - the selection process had been cancelled. Because they saw your pictures before and decided to take them so no other applications were needed.” 

“M-my pictures? It can’t be…wait, are you even talking about the national gallery?” He got pushed into the direction of his atelier and when he didn’t move, the woman just simply walked ahead and grabbed a few of folders and looked through them, then nodded and put them under her arm. “Move!” She ordered again and Taehyung absently minded walked ahead. Taehyung gave a few more folders to her, where he had safely put in his photography that was printed in all different kind of sizes, before unlocking the door to his atelier, revealing even more of the things he had never shown anyone. “I…I have a few paintings as well, they aren’t…good, but…maybe.” Taehyung was still not sure what this was about, but she looked rather pleased. “I have some photography on canvas as well there.” He pointed into one corner, hurrying over to get the stuff for her. 

“Ah, yes, perfect!” The canvases were a lot big and heavier than his folders so for a moment Taehyung wondered how she would carry them with the folders still in her arms, but she walked past them, opened the door and whistled loudly. In came two men dressed all in black and if their faces hadn’t been that plainly visible they could have passed for burglars, right down to their black leather gloves. “Those ones, boys.” She ordered them and with a curt nod towards Tae they picked up his canvases. All of them. 

Taehyung was just running back and forth with them until his whole room was emptied and no art piece was left inside his shop. He stood a little frozen in the atelier, not being able to believe anything that was happening when the woman grabbed him by his arm and took him along, mumbling something about how they should just take him with them in the van so he would be punctual. Only then when Taehyung stood at the museum again did he put the pieces together. His art would be hung in a museum. A real museum. With shaking hands, he took out his phone and called Yoongi’s office. He knew the other was still asleep, so he didn't mind it when the mailbox went on.

"You won't believe what just happened." He raked a hand through his hair as he tried to process how the men were bringing his art in. "It's starting in a few hours. It was last minute and I… I can't believe this, Yoongi. I wish you were here." He took a deep breath before he added quickly, "Let me take you out, please. I'll ask the owner if we can visit at night. The opening starts in a couple of hours." Taehyung felt out of breath from all the excitement, "I need to hurry, they are calling for me." With that he put his phone away again and hurried inside, following the women to where his paintings and photography would be hung when he froze completely. It wasn't just a single wall he would get, but a whole floor. Just for him. Taehyung could feel the tears burning behind his eyes as the thought of his dreams coming true hit him full force. "This is all mine?"  

“No, of course it’s not yours, don’t be silly. It’s just leased. You can hang your pictures up and then you have to take them off in a few weeks.” Came the curt answer who didn’t leave room for someone who had just found out that his dream had come true. “Now, come on, we need to know your preferred placements of the pieces you brought. After you’ve decided on the sequence and general order you can go down into the cafeteria to get a coffee or a piece of cake while we do the lighting and talk about the advertisement and then you can come up again and look at the finished exhibition.” Taehyung looked still so dumbfounded that she placed her hand on his shoulder for a few seconds. “Don’t worry, we can exchange pictures or add more spots if something doesn’t feel right or needs more light. You’re the artist and we’ll make sure that everything is exactly how you envisioned it.” 

“How...I envisioned it.” It was almost like he had gotten thrown into a different dimension, another world, maybe he had been falling asleep at his desk and was just dreaming? He quickly got whipped out of his thoughts again, when the woman pulled him along and Taehyung shook himself out of it. He needed to focus. He had definitely envisioned this moment a million times, so he rolled his shoulders back and began directing everyone, discussing positions with the curator as they walked through the still empty halls that were slowly filled with his art. 

“Can we maybe let piano music play in the background...I’d always thought that it’s fun if there’s an instrument right in the middle of an exhibition for people to play but...I know it’s short term so?” Taehyung asked shyly, but what the other answered had him frozen in shock. “We can order a piano and put it right here if you want?” The other turned on his heel, noting something down on his clipboard before he was already calling someone and leaving Taehyung alone with his thoughts. Slowly, he strolled back around, watching how they were hanging his pictures up, listening to the clicking of the heels of the woman that was ordering people to go more left or right and it was making him smile. How the hell was this to be real. It could only be a dream. 

In the cafeteria, Taehyung gotten himself some hot chocolate to relax. When he looked up from his empty cup, he could see people outside putting up the banners for the exhibition with loads of names he already knew, when it fell onto something familiar. “No, no...wait…,” Taehyung ran outside in his haste not caring about bringing his cup back to the counter and stood completely in awe, when the men had finished bringing up the new advertisement. And there was his name. His name. Right next to the one’s he admired so much himself.  

It felt like hours that he stood outside in the cold, just watching his name wave with the wind before someone stepped beside him. “Here, I figured you might need this.” Jimin’s voice got him out of his thoughts and he hugged his friend tightly, taking the beret from him before putting it on. “Now you look like an artist.” Jimin smiled up at his best friend, who held up a bag with more clothes that he had brought him after Taehyung had whined about not wanting to be in his work clothes tonight, so they quickly hid in the bathroom to change.  

“They just came in?” Jimin asked and Taehyung hummed in response. “Took all of my art. All of it, can you believe it? I have a whole floor! All of it...like four rooms, Jiminie!” His best friends arms hugged around his waist and Taehyung couldn’t help but laugh, “And I asked for a piano and they just said: no problem. I’m not sure if they made it though. It was all a bit last minute actually.” Taehyung felt a lot more relaxed with Jimin by his side and yet, when he stepped into the exhibition that was now filled with people waiting to be let into the new art exposition, reading upon him and his work in little folded up papers. Still, Taehyung couldn’t help but look around and search for someone.  

He knew it was kind of stupid to hope that Yoongi would come. Maybe he had heard his mailbox message, but would wait for a midnight date, sometime when they can be alone, and Taehyung would make sure that it would happen. And still, it made his heart beat a little faster at the thought of Yoongi coming here. But there were too many people, too many eyes that could see him. Taehyung startled when the people all around him clapped enthusiastically and then went off to either get a glass of champagne or finally visit the art pieces. The young artist held Jimin by his wrist and showed him around, telling him all about his photography, making Jimin startle when he found a few pieces of himself on the wall. “Oh gosh, Taehyungie!” He blushed vividly, but Taehyung just chuckled.  

“Excuse me, but...I couldn’t help but notice the similarity could it be that it’s you?” A man had stepped beside him, tall with blonde hair and Jimin gulped up at him. “Oh, it’s hideous. I’m so sorry. Taehyung should’ve used someone better...my posture looks awful in this one.” Taehyung couldn’t help but roll his eyes, when Jimin wasn’t even realizing that the man was obviously flirting with him, not caring about his posture but just about the aesthetics of the photography. He always loved photographing Jimin while he was dancing. It was like art in motion. He smiled, stepping away from the two, when something made his ears perk up. “I’ll buy the series.” 

“Wh-what?” It came from both of them simultaneously as they blinked at the stranger, who was smiling at them so sweetly that it turned his eyes into half-moons. “I’d like to offer you a price. Let your manager call me, please and reserve those for me.” He handed Taehyung a card, before returning his attention to Jimin. “My Manager,” Taehyung mumbled, thinking about how he never even thought about having one. “Ah, you sold something. Amazing!” The woman in the red-heels took out some stickers, placing them below the art piece, spelling ‘reserved’ right underneath it’s description. She patted his shoulders in encouragement, before leaving Taehyung as fast as she came.  

It didn’t happen to be the last picture he sold, because Taehyung found those little stickers under a few of his photography already and he was eager to see who those people were. Apparently the lady in red was really good at selling. So, Taehyung kept to his part: shaking hands, discussing the art, meeting new people and collecting more cards of important and potential customers. He had long lost Jimin, who was busy talking to the tall stranger, or flirting as he could tell by their giggles. 

Standing in midst of all those people, Taehyung felt unsure for a moment. It was too much happening at once, people patting his back, congratulating him, telling him how amazing he was, when all his life people only rejected his art. What did change? Did they really like it? He looked down at the cards in his hand and then back up, trying to take a deep breath. He didn’t want to let his insecurities destroy this magical moment. Closing his eyes, Taehyung took a few more deep breaths, when he could hear a soft tune playing and it immediately brought a smile onto his lips. In midst of it all, Taehyung hadn’t realized that they really fulfill his wish of music playing in the background. He hadn’t noticed it before. When he opened his eyes, Taehyung searched for where it came from, but when he saw the boxes in the corner of the room, he quickly realized that they were silent, and the music was coming from a different place. His heart was starting to race, and his breath hitched.

…

Being up during the day felt strange, but he had to if he wanted to be at Taehyung’s exhibition opening. He could only imagine how stunned and happy the younger must be when he came to the museum, trying to get the spot and then they would tell him that they already hired him. Except that apparently there was a misunderstanding and when the museum called that Taehyung hadn’t showed up he couldn’t believe it.

Turned out he was right, because Taehyung had been there but apparently no one had told him that he was hired just that no one could apply because the spot was already taken. He would have very much liked to jell at someone but as they were doing him a favor by taking Taehyung he just ended the call politely and then send his quickest manager over. She would handle everything so that the exhibition could still open in time. By the time the pictures were hanging properly he had already received a circular email advertising the new exhibition, had heard a note on the radios art program and had been sent a picture of the banners that had been hung up at and close to the museum. Yoongi was more than pleased. Only when he got a call about Taehyung wanting a piano did he start to panic a little. Taehyung really went all out there - but he had promised him the exhibition of his dreams and he would definitely keep his promise. So, a little while later he had organized a white piano with a pattern of colorful paint splashes and was sitting in the van where it was transported. His heart was beating into overdrive even though technically he had the safest cover: He wore a suit, white gloves and a white mask and no one would try to talk to him when he was playing the piano. It would be like serving drinks or food; no one would take notice of him; he would just fade into the background of the exhibition.

Only that one person did notice.

“Yoongi?” Taehyung’s heart stopped, when he noticed the familiar back right away, the way his fingers were gliding over the keys so smoothly as if he was simply dancing – just with his fingertips. He knew the melody inside out, had heard it a million times before and watched Yoongi play while he had leaned onto him at night. His heart was beating fast, when he walked further into the room, people all around him but Taehyung didn’t care about it anymore. His eyes were focused on Yoongi and him alone. He came. Solely for him to support him, to be with him on this important night, despite the people around.

“You’re here,” Taehyung whispered and sat down next to Yoongi, who kept playing until the tune slowly faded out. When he turned to him, his almost blackish eyes looking up at him, Taehyung found himself smiling. Even brighter than before. “Why are you here? There’s people… I thought you didn’t want to…”

“I didn’t think anyone would notice me when I’m in charge of the music and not a visitor. But of course, you noticed me. You’re more perceptive than you should be.” The mask covered his smile, but his eyes and the tone of his voice gave it away anyways. “Are you happy about your exhibition? I told you that you would make it. Also, it seems I’ll have to hurry to get a picture or else everything will be reserved before I have a chance to look at them all.”

Taehyung nodded softly, not wanting to cry tears of joy again, so he bit his lip. “I’m even happier now that you’re here.” He took Yoongi’s hand in his, wanting to intertwine their hands when he noticed the gloves. “I’d like to show you everything, just like I promised you. Do you trust me?” Taehyung held onto his hand softly, soothing over the fabric. 

“Could we... maybe wait till the other visitors are gone? I talked to the custodian of the museum on the phone and we have green light to stay a little longer if we want. If I get up you won’t have piano music.” While what he said was true he was simply scared. If Taehyung went to show him around people would start talking about a visitor in a mask. As piano player he was safe but as Min Yoongi he was utterly vulnerable right now.

Taehyung reached out, soothing over Yoongi’s arm softly. “I love you, Yoongi, the way you are, and no one can tell me how to see you. I know you are afraid, but I won’t let anyone hurt you.” His heart jumped at his own confession, but it was true. He had fallen in love for his stubborn boss somewhere along the way. He took Yoongi’s hand in his and slowly removed one glove, keeping his hand in his so no one else could see, hiding his smaller hands between his own. “It will be okay. I won’t let it slip.”

His breath was taken away by the younger’s word. He had given up on hope and that Taehyung, the person he liked most told him he loved him so easily was making his heart ache in a good way. Maybe he did have a chance at happiness and love after all. Nonetheless his first instinct was to withdraw his hand because he was still scared - but then he kept it where it was. He trusted Taehyung fully. And if it would make the other happy to hold his hand then he would swallow down the fear and be there for him instead.

Because for the first time in a long, long while someone else was more important to him than himself.

“You okay?” Taehyung asked shyly, noticing how nervous Yoongi was. “You’ll be okay. I promise.” He leaned in, placing a kiss on his cheek softly. He kept there, hovering over Yoongi’s lips (or where they would be hidden behind the mask) as he spoke. “Just squeeze my hand if it gets too much.” Taehyung got up and pulled Yoongi up with him, when the other had given his consent to move. He kept his hand close in his as he moved along, wanting to show Yoongi his favorite art first. No one turned their heads towards them, all of them too immersed in either socializing or discussing the art itself. Barely any of them even knew Taehyung was the artist.

It was easier walking with Tae than walking alone and he found himself so concentrated on Taehyung and his art that for a few moments he forgot why he was scared. The younger’s eyes lit up as he talked about the day he took the picture they were standing in front of; a beautiful landscape filled with flowery meadows and a beautiful cloudy sky. Listening to Taehyung took him to that place where Tae had hidden from the rain that day as he had been on his way to visit his grandma and the rain had surprised him. And just when he had thought that the rain would never stopped the sky had opened and let the sun through and he had taken the picture that now hung on the wall. Yoongi smiled fondly at Taehyung, thinking that the boy was more beautiful than every piece of art could ever be and with a sudden clarity he realized that he was just in love with Taehyung as it was the other way round.

“What are you thinking about?” Taehyung’s question shook him out of his thoughts, and he met the younger’s gaze. “Do you like it? It’s pretty basic, I guess. A simple shot of the sun but…it was a beautiful symbolism, right? There’s so much more than the simple visitor can see.” He bit his lip shyly, fumbling around with Yoongi’s hand, not wanting to ramble on. He had bored many with his deep conversations before. 

“Yes, it is beautiful. You’re amazing, Tae. Though what I was actually thinking about was that I love you too. And that if you’re okay with it I’d like to kiss you.” He could just put the mask a little up so no one could see but his love for Tae right now was greater than his caution.

Taehyung gulped, eyes wide when Yoongi confessed and asked him something that he really wanted to do for so long. “Y-yes, of course, I…I want you to.” He didn’t know what to do, holding onto Yoongi’s hand so tightly as he was feeling more nervous than he had before the exhibition had been opened. He could feel his cheeks blushing and feeling hot.

Carefully Yoongi tipped the mask upwards until his mouth was free and then leaned in to gently cover Taehyung’s lips with his own. It was a delicate kiss, careful and fragile as if he wasn’t sure that this wasn’t a dream and if he wasn’t cautious it would shatter into a million pieces. But Taehyung’s lips were warm and steady, and his mouth tasted so sweet that Yoongi couldn’t help it, he moved closer, his hand wandering to the boy’s waist as he held him against his own body, kissing him again, more daringly so.

The mask slipped off.

“Yoongi!” Taehyung gasped against his lips, when he had opened his eyes just for a second but what he saw made him stop and stare.

He couldn’t believe it.

“Y-you’re…” He blinked, still holding close onto Yoongi as he watched how the veins started to fade out, the black ink seemingly unraveling until they wasn’t seen anymore and instead it was only his brown eyes staring back at Taehyung. He was gleaming and Taehyung cupped his cheeks to look at him thoroughly, before hastily taking his hand in his and watching how the black streaks were simply fading away. In his haste to see if this was real, he took the Yoongi’s other hand, pulled off the glove. “W-what…what is happening?”  

Tae’s shock hit him right in the heart and he quickly tried to cover his face with his hands - but to his surprise his palms weren’t black anymore. He slowly let them sink in a daze, turning them over and over to check if they were really just skin. “Tae, do you... do you see this?” Suddenly the other’s expression made sense and he hurriedly turned towards the next picture that was securely sealed behind glass. In his reflection a normal face stared back. His face. He touched his cheek, patting it lightly to make sure that he wasn’t dreaming. But the reflection mimicked him, and he didn’t wake up. A tear spilled over, sudden and hot, running down his cheek when he realized that this was true.

The curse had been broken. And he had Tae to thank for that.

The younger had seen him; broke right through his defenses with his love and kind heartedness to the very core of him. He loved him despite what he looked like, breaking the curse when Yoongi had realized he loved someone too, more than himself and trusted Taehyung with his life. He didn’t mind if others would see him because he wasn’t alone anymore. As long as he was with Taehyung, he was safe.

And with him he felt beautiful, no matter how he looked like on the outside.

Taehyung had seen all his flaws and decided to love him, because he let his heart chose him, not his head. Even if it still made no sense to the younger, Yoongi couldn’t help but pull a stunned Taehyung in and kiss him until they both felt breathless.

He could explain everything later. 

Because they had all the time in the world together.

A/N: And here our lovely little beauty and the beast au is finished. We hope you enjoyed this little fic of ours and are excited to our (for now) last fairytale au which will be next: Alice in Wonderland! Thank you for reading and all your lovely comments!

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Something in the Air

Summary: Hera has her own ways of knowing how Kanan is feeling. Or, five times Kanan's pheromones were a problem and one time they weren't.

Notes: Okay. So this one actually seems like I should explain myself.Victory's Price casually mentioned Hera detecting human pheromones in the middle of a Zoom meeting. This has certain implications. And then Rogue Podron screamed "Fanfic prompt! Yubsie!" in the middle of an episode.Never underestimate my willingness to write fanfiction on a dare.

Rating: T

AO3 Link: Should you prefer

1. Attraction

Hera knew that Kanan was attracted to her when she invited him on board. She thought she knew what she was getting herself into.

She wasn’t quite ready for him being attracted to her when all the air circulated within the ship. Maybe she could improve the filters in the life support system. She hadn’t really thought about human pheromones when she was setting the standard parameters.

The flirting was one thing. It was entertaining enough some days, even if she had far too much work to do

It was the realization that he was still attracted to her when he  wasn’t  flirting that was going to drive her up the wall. They were just supposed to be eating breakfast. The basic porridge accompanied by their vastly different mugs of caf might just be the least sensual meal imaginable.

And yet, every pheromone screamed that he was thinking about her.

She wanted to say something. But what could he do? It wasn’t like he had conscious control over any of this. She could send him to take a shower, but that wouldn’t help for long.

The fact that he wasn’t flirting meant he was trying to avoid turning mealtime into an awkward situation. He couldn’t help that every pore betrayed where his true attention lay right now.

“We’ve got a job today.” Hera took another bite of the porridge. Maybe if she just focused on how incredibly beige the cooked grain was it would get both of them back down to a sensible level.

“What are we looking at?”

“Imperial fuel delivery. Should be enough to keep us flying for a few standard months and still pass on plenty to my contact.” And, of course, the further advantage of making life just a little bit more complicated for the Empire. A delivery that made this much of a difference for them was barely a rounding error to the Empire as a whole, but they were particular about these sorts of things. The local despot would still have some accounting to do for this. It might slow him down a bit.

“We hitting them in orbit?”

Hera shook her head. “We’ll be taking the Phantom down. They’ll be vulnerable in transit.”

In open air. She hadn’t planned it for this reason, but she was going to take advantage. Set the scrubbers to run an extra cycle

2. Discomfort

There weren’t many good places for a clandestine meeting on this planet—none of their usual seedy cantinas or crowded marketplaces. The spaceport wasn’t the bustling sort of place where they could do a drop in passing.

But the Empire did so like building its museums. They had a vested interest in spreading around their particular version of history. The local populace was encouraged to visit to learn the splendor of their overlords. And conveniently enough for people who were barely scraping by as a very small rebel cell, admission was free of charge for all to come learn.

She didn’t need to pick up the pheromones to know that Kanan was uncomfortable. She’d done her best to arrange the meeting as far from any Empire Day-related exhibits as she could but... it wasn’t that big a museum. He hadn’t said much when the date crept by last month, but it troubled him enough to know this was a bad idea. Who in the galaxy didn’t have their share of scars if they were old enough to remember that time?

“If you’re not feeling well, I can do this one on my own.” Having a crewmate had definitely made a lot of things go smoother, but she’d done missions on her own before. She could get out of this situation if she had to.

“No, I want to have your back. I’ll be okay.”

Every subtle signal in the atmosphere said otherwise. She was getting used to ignoring every indication that he was attracted to her. That managed to fade into generic background radiation for their lives. This feeling wasn’t just new, it was more intense. “Look, I can read you too.” She didn’t know how often he actually used the Force for that. Certainly it had been months since she’d seen him do anything flashy, but pheromones only told her so much.

Kanan sighed. “I’m not saying I like it here. But I’m not going to leave you hanging.”

“Then I’m going to need you to actually focus.” It wasn’t the first time she wished she could just send him to take a long shower. That was an even less practical solution than usual

“Let’s just get in and out.”

Hera scanned the room again, looking for the most boring exhibit possible. There had to be something full of dull economic numbers instead of numbers that turned painful events into dry figures.

The glorious cabbage industry of this planet was just what she needed. She rested a hand on his elbow and pointed him over. As an added bonus, it wasn’t very popular.

“Don’t look at any of this. Just look at me.” Maybe she could get him back to being attracted to her. That seemed to be more or less his default state. Change the balance of the feelings. “Talk to me. About anything.”

3. Anger

The seedy cantinas had problems of their own, but she was used to them. She wouldn’t have needed pheromones to be on guard against the men in these places. She knew what they saw her as. She could handle them, she’d handled them plenty of times.

It was nice to have someone else along with her though. Sitting at a table and discussing podracing while waiting for the contact to approach was a definite improvement over sitting at the bar and fending off advances.

“It’s all about having the engines perfectly in tune.” It wasn’t Kanan’s preferred form of entertainment, but he was managing to say something that sounded like he actually paid attention and wasn’t just choosing a topic of conversation that sounded innocuous to prying ears.

He was wrong, but that was perfectly acceptable in a cover story. She wasn’t going to let him just keep being wrong, though. It wouldn’t look good, for one thing. “It’s about the pilot. Give a novice too much machine and they won’t be able to handle it.”

The two humans who approached weren’t interested in subtlety. “I like a girl who knows her racing.”

Hera suppressed a sigh. This might be the usual setting for meeting their contacts, but these situations were always going to be annoying. “Not interested.” She’d been dealing with this her entire adult life and for a few years before that. Every Twi’lek girl was warned about it from a young age.

She didn’t need the stink in the air to tell her what brought them over to this table. Just eyes to see the way they both leered. “Come on sweetheart, you can do better than him.”

“Not interested.” Telling them he wasn’t along like that would only make them more persistent.

“Ah, come on. We all know you girls are just looking for the right man. Place like this, you’re looking at him.”

She was ready for most of what she faced in a cantina like this. But she suddenly realized this hadn’t happened since Kanan had joined the crew. She suddenly detected a set of pheromones behind her that she’d never felt from Kanan before.

She’d experienced Kanan irritated plenty of times. But never angry.

“I’m just here for a drink. Which I have.” She rested a hand on Kanan’s arm. She didn’t think he’d do anything rash but.... this was new. Very new.

“I’ll get you a drink.”

Like she was ever going to take a drink from a strange man in a seedy cantina. Twi’lek girls were taught about that one from the time they could speak. They had to be.

She was used to it. Kanan wasn’t. “The lady has her drink.” She could see his hand twitch into a fist from the corner of her eye.

She should have prepared him better for this. Made a plan. Because right now, what she was sensing in the air was enough to make  her  want to punch someone. That would just mean leaving without the information. She kept her hand on her drink (just good sense) and pulled closer to Kanan. “I’ve got this,” she whispered.

They were particularly irritating, but she just needed to fend them off until their contact showed. That meant making sure she and Kanan weren’t the ones the bartender wanted gone. She’d need to get another drink eventually just to make it worth the owner’s while, but she’d navigated this situation countless times.

“You’re really picking him? There’s better quality humans all over this place.”

It shouldn’t matter if she was picking Kanan or picking to sit and drink in peace. But she needed them gone.

The sense of anger wasn’t going down. Maybe she could solve two problems at once. She slipped into Kanan’s lap, draping herself over him in an altogether familiar way. She felt the ripple of surprise through his entire body at the move. “I really am.”

Kanan pulled her drink closer to them. Very thoughtful. And she could be pretty sure he wasn’t about to start any barfights with her sitting on top of him.

“If you don’t mind, we’re busy.”

There were other pheromones in play now, but maybe she didn’t mind those ones so much after all.

4. Fear

They spent so much time getting into fights in dark alleys. It was one of the true constants of their relationship, from the very beginning. It should almost start to feel routine.

All they could do was duck. Fire. Duck again. Get another shot off.

Hera would have preferred the handoff go smooth, but a lot of things happened that didn’t necessarily align with her preferences. She could still keep the situation under something resembling control. Or at least she could keep her head.

The actual job was already done; that should count as a win. They didn’t have any suspicious packages on them. By all rights, they shouldn’t even be the interesting targets right now.

And yet. They were the ones getting shot at.

“I don’t think these guys like us, Spectre One.” They didn’t look like they were Empire. Not directly, anyway. So maybe they’d personally annoyed them somehow.

“Getting that impression, Spectre Two.” Kanan rolled behind a large trash bin and kept firing back.

They needed to find a way out of here. Hera backed as far behind cover as she could manage and pulled out her commlink. “Chop, we need a pickup five minutes ago!”

Chopper warbled some rude comments about the nature of linear time, but she trusted him to get over there as fast as actually possible.

Meanwhile, their opponents kept closing in. Did they just want them dead, was that what this was about?

Bounty hunters would want them alive. There weren’t any specific bounties on them last any of their seedier contacts had heard, but the Empire would always pay to get their hands on rebels. People who couldn’t cut it up against the big name targets might want to go to this much trouble.

Or they could have just stolen the cargo and gotten a much easier payday. Their plan didn’t make a lot of sense, and yet it was still making things incredibly difficult. “Persistent.”

They could analyze the motivations once they survived this.

A blaster bolt flew way too close to of her lekku and she had to dive on top of Kanan to avoid it. For all the flirting she never had to worry about him taking anything the wrong way in a fire fight. They both knew where they stood when they were in mortal peril. Everything got simpler then.

So she wasn’t expecting any pheromone spikes, no matter how cozy they’d just gotten. He did have  some  sense of the right moment and this was about as far as it could get from that.

They’d had plenty of time to get used to being around each other since Kanan first came on board. Kanan attracted was just a reality now.

Kanan afraid was brand new. “I’m okay. We’re both okay.”

She moved quickly, shooting back at their charming pursuers. She tried to push everything else out of her mind.

Chopper needed to hurry up.

5. Attraction, Again

The seedy cantinas were never a particularly pleasant experience, but at least they were familiar. Hera knew what they were getting into, knew the dangers and how to blend in.

These fancier events were foreign territory for both of them. The people who attended them were just as dangerous as the ones at the seedy cantinas, but they sparkled. They would still kill you if you were in their way, but they were never quite so honest as just a blaster in a back alley.

At least in the seedy cantinas, she got to wear comfortable clothes. She belonged in a flightsuit. Too bad that would make it look like she was some sort of rebel interloper here to cause trouble at the party.

Which was ridiculous; she was just a rebel interloper here to collect an intelligence drop at the party.

Fancy people at fancy parties wore slinky dresses. And if they were rebel interlopers, they tried to make sure the length could tear free to get her knees available to run in an emergency.

She could tell that Kanan was uncomfortable before he even made it out of his cabin. At least that made two of them. They’d had to borrow the formalwear from their contact. It was the right look, even if they were going to feel ridiculous the entire time.

And then he actually saw her and the pheromones became overwhelming.

“You look...” The way that men looked at her at the fancy parties would be the same as at the seedy cantinas. But coming from Kanan, she knew it was all genuine.

It was still going to be incredibly distracting. More so than from anyone else. “Like I wandered off from somewhere else.”

“I’m just saying. I’d never ask you to wear this getup, but you pull it off .” The look in his eyes finished that sentence just fine.

“You don’t look half bad yourself, you know.” Was that as distracting in the Force as the scent of human pheromones in the air were for her?

Could she even really blame it on the pheromones when she would have been interested anyway? There was more than one reason to want out of these ridiculous outfits right now.

“Trust me, no one is going to be looking at me.” Which was, of course, part of the plan. Keep every nefarious eye on her while Kanan actually took care of the handoff. She wasn’t above exploiting those exasperating tendencies wherever she went. It was a good plan. She just wanted it to be over with.

“And that is why I need you to focus .” If only so she could focus.

She was fully prepared to ditch these ridiculous shoes if she had to. Boots weren’t going to fit this look at all. Until this actually went south, she had Kanan playing the gallant escort, helping her up the step while she wrangled the skirt.

She assumed the way that he flexed his fingers after letting go was meant to be some part of the act. Kriff, that man could make it hard to focus on a job. How was  he  going to get anything done if he was projecting such an overwhelming feeling into the atmosphere?

The Force probably could do that. You certainly didn’t hear stories about the great Jedi getting distracted from their mission by a pretty face or a set of legs. They must train for it.

She, on the other hand, hadn’t. Especially not for tuning out attraction from someone she actually did feel the same toward.

“Focusing. Thinking about nothing but boring things. TPS Reports. The colour beige. That terrible holoseries Zeb loves. X-Wing fuel consumption rates.”

Not exactly sweet nothings, but having him whisper irritation in her ear was the most thoughtful thing he could have done in the moment. Endearing, but she could work with that.

And One Time They Weren't

The job had not gone well. By any stretch of the imagination. It was going to be one hell of a debriefing to work out all the specific ways it had gone wrong because she couldn’t just write “everything” in her report and call it a day. It was accurate, but it wasn’t useful.

The intel was bad. The Empire was ready for them. Their contact wasn’t where they were supposed to be. Even the weather had suddenly turned against them. Someone  not her  was going to have to figure out the particulars of how  all  of that had managed to happen at once.

For now, she just needed the kids to stop fighting. Bad enough that they were crawling through the mud trying to get back to the Ghost, it didn’t need to happen with a soundtrack. It probably wasn’t anything any of them had done that was behind all this. The mission had been doomed going in.

“You didn’t have to tackle me into the mud puddle!” Zeb did look quite the fright with his fur standing on end. She was going to have to give him first dibs on the shower, he was worse off than the rest of them.

“I could tell Sabine’s bomb was going off too soon, you’re welcome for keeping you from getting blown up!” Ezra said.

“I told you to get clear!” Sabine yelled.

Hera pinched the bridge of her nose. “All of you stop. We got through it. That’s what matters.” Not asking the kids to help with the report, that was for sure. She didn’t need their theories on who’s specific fault it was. “Go get cleaned up.”

It was going to be a pain to get the seats clean again, but she needed to get them in the air and out of here before any more company showed up. If the kids didn’t stop squabbling soon, she would set them to scrubbing it down. Or possibly the entire ship. With toothbrushes.

At least their unexpected company didn’t seem to have friends in the air to continue their ridiculous day. A few clever moves later and they were safely off the planet. Zeb was going to be in the shower for a while. Ezra and Sabine were going to be fighting for a while and Chopper would probably wade into the fray. She was just going to stay right here until they worked it out and it was her turn for the shower. No sense tromping mud anywhere else on the ship.

She felt the flicker of air as the cockpit door slid open. She didn’t need any other senses to realize who it was. For one thing, there was no accompanying argument.

Kanan slid into the co-pilot’s seat. “Well, that was a day.”

That about covered it.

There was always that standard background radiation of her life. It had been a long time since she’d actually needed pheromones to pick up on Kanan’s moods. But she still noticed them every now and then. And right now, she couldn’t help laughing. “Really? Even now?”

They were exhausted. They were covered in mud. They had bruises in places they were both going to question in the morning. The kids were at each other’s throats.

And yet, he was still actively attracted to her in this specific moment.

Apparently that was a challenge, because he decided he didn’t need to be collapsed in the seat after all. Not when kissing was an option. “Every moment you’re around.”

Survey #445

“you’ve got a lot of nerve, but not a lot of spine”

Have you ever created a fake internet persona for yourself? No. Do you enjoy going to weddings or showers? What is it that you like or dislike about them? Not... really. They're triggering for me. And I don't use "trigger" lightly. They legitimately, deeply affect me. It's part of the reason I've lost a lot of interest in being a wedding photographer. Is there a person in your life whom you support by showing up for the sports games, concerts, or other performances? This question, uh... sucks. Because I'm that awful aunt that doesn't go to her nephew's t-ball games while everyone else does. It's the heat that does it, but still... it shouldn't. How many video games do you have? A lot. We have a big case of them. Why did you take the last pill you took? My heartburn is especially awful today. Has a girl ever stayed up with you all night? A guy? A girl, uhhh... maybe? Idk. A guy, yeah. Do you think guys look good with makeup? Hell yeah. How long would you wait to become sexually active with someone you’re dating? That would just depend on how quickly we deeply bond in a relationship. I wouldn't go that far before I knew I was in love with them, though, so it definitely wouldn't be quick. Do you enjoy a good debate or prefer keeping the peace? klasd;jkla;jfklwdj I HATE confrontation, so I strongly prefer to keep that peace. Debates rarely ever stay civil, anyway. Can you ever see yourself and your ex back together? One, easily. The other... I wish. But it won't ever happen because I fucked that relationship up way too much. Are you thinking about anything that’s upsetting right now? Yeah. My PTSD is being really bothersome. Would you ever want to ride in a canoe? Yeah, sounds fun and peaceful. So long as I'm not rowing, ha ha. When did you last see an attractive member of your preferred sex? Did you speak to them? Do you think you’ll see them again? Two days ago. Yeah, 'cuz he was my personal trainer. I don't plan on quitting the gym, so I'll probably see him around there now and again. Have you ever tasted baby food? How about pet food? Save for when I was a baby, obviously, no. I once tried a guinea pig yogurt treat, ha ha. How many times have you had your heart broken? Once romantically, twice overall. Actually, no, four. Quite a jump, I know, but Teddy and Jason's mom both dying was nothing short of heartbreaking. Think of the person you fell hardest for. How many people has he/she been in love with, besides you? One, before me. I don't know about since. Find 5 people on your Facebook friends list, whose names begin with K. Who are these people, and how did you meet them? Katherine: an online friend. We met on YouTube. Kim: she's my stepmom. I met her through my dad, obviously. Kelly: a high school friend. We met in art class. Katelynn: was Jason's old friend's former girlfriend. We met through said friend when we all hung out together. Kieley: she's the wife of who I call my "big bro," a close gaming friend. We met through Sam, the aforementioned friend. Sometimes do you wish you lived in a fantasy world? Yeah, who doesn't? What would you say if the ex who hurt you the most told you they hated you? "I don't blame you" or something to that effect. Have any of your friends dated an ex/previous crush of yours? I don't think it's accurate to call her my "friend," but Jason's first girlfriend and I are friends on Facebook. I'd love to get to know her better and actually be *real* friends. One word to describe the last person you kissed? Strong. Has anyone ever cheated on their boyfriend/girlfriend with you? You could say that. Does your hair have layers? No, not anymore. Who was the last person you cried in front of? My mom. Have you done something recently that helped someone else, in any way? I don't know. Which Disney princess do you think is the most beautiful? Why? Probably Jasmine. I just think she's really pretty. If you’ve had a bad experience in a past relationship, did you find that you were scared to get into another relationship, in case the same thing happened again? I'm terrified to this day to start new romantic relationships. I had so many panic attacks about losing Sara when we first started dating. If you were going to buy a present for the person you love/like, what would you generally choose? Absolutely something Frieza-related. If you met the celebrity that you most admire, what would be the first thing you’d say to him/her? Probably just "oh my god, thank you" and start crying lmao. Is there something you generally always ask for help with? I'm sure there's something, yeah. When was the last time you cried? Today. Do you like sausage? Yep. Ever held a newborn animal? Kittens, yes. Do you know anyone with a dual citizenship? Uhhhh maybe? Have you been called a bad influence? Yeah. Like she had ANY room to talk. Do you get stage fright? Yes. Would you be excited or annoyed if your favorite book was being made into a movie? Both of my favorite books are also movies, and they're wonderful. Do you need structure in your life or do you prefer to just go with the flow? I require structure, for sure. Without it, my anxiety goes rampant. Change is something I do not cope with well. Post a picture of you from one year ago. No. Have you ever written a fan letter? If so, who was it to and did you receive a response? No. What trait(s) would you not want your children to inherit from you? My mental illnesses, primarily depression. I have A LOT of reasons for not wanting kids, and my poor genetic makeup is even one of them. I don't want to pass on all the shit I deal with. What is the worst place you’ve woken up? Waking up in a shitty bed at the ER while waiting to be transferred was never one of my favorite things... Are you the type of person who has to study to make good grades or does it just come naturally to you? Aha... I was lucky in that once I heard something in school, it had a tendency to stick. I didn't need to study very much at all - usually. When on YouTube, what types of videos do you mainly watch? Mostly let's plays. What was the last conversation you had with someone about? Sara and I were kinda fangirling over how cute Maieykio and Rumours are, ha ha. Do you have any currency that’s not your native country’s? No. Can you describe your father in one word? Complex. Do you still watch movies intended for children? Yeah. Hell, I probably tend to prefer them. Who is your favorite stand-up comedian? That's living, probably Gabriel Iglesias. What is your strangest phobia? Probably whale sharks. Which part of your state/province do you live in [upper,lower,middle]? I live on the eastern side. Who in your life can you count on the most? My mama. Would you rather eat your pizza cold or hot? It depends on what I'm up for. Is it cute when a boy/girl calls you baby? No, I'm not a fan. Last thing you drank? Pink lemonade. Have you ever thought you were going to marry someone? Sure did. The belief was clearly mutual. But I ruined that. Who are your favorite people to talk to when you’re down? Sara or my mom. Have you ever thought you liked someone, and then found out that you really didn’t? See: Girt. Describe the last dream you had that you can remember. It was actually... really fucked up, so the squeamish beware. I don't remember the details, just the shocking part: a little bird flew into me, and I thought it was a bug, so I crushed it in my hand. Heard and felt the bones break and it was just... ugh. It's nauseating to recall. I'm sick and tired of dreaming of only awful things. Any current family issues? Not any big ones that include everyone. The only "issue" that really exists in my family is how my mom feels like Ashley (my older sister) avoids her, and therefore Mom doesn't see the kids nearly as much as she wants. She feels very overlooked. Whose room of the opposite sex were you in last? When? Uhhh, probably my nephew's? Sometime when I visited my sister's house, idk. The last movie you watched with a friend? Elf, I think. Have you ever played with fire? Uh no, because I'm not keen on being burned. What industry do you want to be a part of when you’re older? Art, in some form. Who do you usually text the most? Since Sara and I started chatting mainly on Discord, definitely my mom. Have you ever been surprised with breakfast in bed? No. Llamas or sheep? Sheep. Have you ever seen anyone famous in the street? No. When do you plan on moving out? Whenever I'm in a long-term, stable, happy, and healthy relationship. I really don't at all think it would be healthy for me to live on my own. What’re you going to be for Halloween? I'd actually love to dress up this year seeing as I've really been feeling the holidays, but the money to like... make a recognizable costume isn't really with us. So I'll ust answer as if I had it, in which case it would be a handmaid from The Handmaid's Tale, but with fake blood splattered over my stomach region. Will you buy a cake for your next birthday? We always do for b-days. Do you like brownies? BITCH I love brownies. Have you ever dressed up as a witch on Halloween? Yeah, as a kiddo. Have you ever been to a masquerade? No. Do any girls like the last guy you kissed? Maybe, I don't know. Do you have a second mom? I have a stepmom, if that's what you mean. When a bee is coming close to you, do you stand still or run away? Ngl, I gtfo. Do you ever hang out with someone of the opposite sex? I haven't hung out with Girt in around a year. Really need to change that. When you go out to eat, what sides do your order with your food? Fries. What is your winter coat like? ... I actually don't know if I have one? Did you do well at fitness testing in grade school? I did fine. Are art museums interesting or boring to you? Interesting. Inspiring, even. Do you know how to use an ATM? ... No. :x How about write a check? uhhhhhhhhhhh... Are you Italian? Not to my knowledge, no. We don't know my dad's heritage. When was the last time you talked to one of your siblings? I commented on one of my sister's Facebook posts earlier. Are you interested in photography at all? Very much so. Do you own an acoustic guitar? I don't believe so? Ashley had one when she was waaaay younger, but I haven't seen it in forever. I think Dad might have it. Can you talk to your parents about anything without them judging or bickering at you? Because you said "bickering," no. Mom knows how to pick fights on a lot of things... Who was the last person you took pictures with? My sister when she came to visit a few months ago. What is the wallpaper on your best friend's cell phone? I'd be willing to bet it's either her and Jem or Frieza. Do you melt butter to put on your popcorn? No. We get the movie theater butter kind. Do you consider flirting cheating? Sure do. Have you ever been on probation? No. What is normally on your Christmas list (if you celebrate it)? A tattoo and meerkat stuff. Do you like KoRn? They're one of my favorites! When you were little, did you pick up worms? Do you pick worms up now? Ha, I did. I would sometimes dig just to look for them, especially if I knew Dad was going to take me fishing later that day. I don't like touching worms nowadays. Would you ever go see a stand-up comedian? Yeah, I think it would be fun. Do you have any best friends that you only know online? BEST friends, not current ones, anyway. I've met my current best friend. Have you ever gotten into a physical fight? Nope. Do you have a problem with swearing? No. What do you do when you see a spider? My reactions vary. If it's a tiny little thing, I tend to ignore it. In most cases, admittedly, I get my mom to come kill it. :x I really, really want to get on a level where I can just cup the spider and take it outside. I want a few types of spiders one day (tarantulas, jumping, and velvet), after all, so I really should get used to interacting with them. I know in my gut they're nowhere near as dangerous and scary as your head makes them seem, but it's so instilled in you (most "you"s, anyway) from a young age to stay away from spiders, so it's fighting almost like instinct. Do you have big dreams? Meh... When is your father’s birthday? Sometime in April. The 16th, I think? Maybe. Are you interested in anime? Yeah. They can have some great stories. Do you eat three meals a day? Most days. Are you part German? German and Irish make up most of my heritage, yes. Do you dream of being a porn star? Uh, I can confidently say no. Have you ever been on a farm? I have. What is your favorite type of muffin? Blueberry, I think. I like the moisture it adds to the muffin. What is the last type of salad that you ate? Just your normal one with iceberg lettuce and ranch. What do you usually put on your waffles? A layer of peanut butter and then some syrup. You NEED to try it. Would you rather have a cottage on the beach or in a forest? A forest! Name all the people that you talked to today. Online, through texts and in person. Mom and Misty are all, I think. Do you know a schizophrenic person? My half-sister. Did you ever watch Sailor Moon? If so, who is your favorite? I did. I don't think I had a favorite character. Name the last 3 people you kissed and list one nice thing about each one. Sara: she's very loyal. Girt: he's funny as hell. Tyler: he, uh, cares a lot, I guess? When was the last time you felt EXTREMELY depressed? Why is that? Yesterday, actually. I was passively suicidal just over... a lot of things. Would you ever dye your hair pink? I want pastel pink hair anyway.

Damn

Fandom: House of a 1,000 Corpses

Rufus Jr 'RJ' Firefly x Reader

By: @pusantheamazonian​                      not beta’d

I've always liked RJ. Of course there's like nuthin’ for him. So viola!

“Howdy Y/N. Hidin’ from your daddy again?” With the ring if the doorbell. Spaulding greets you with a smile already knowing why you're here.

“You know it.” Slowly making your way to the counter. Sad to say you're a little ashamed of this predicament.

“Darlin you need to leave his ass or find a boyfriend. You hidin’ out here ain't good for you. People are going to say you're strange.”

“I'm already strange. I willingly walk five miles to get here because I prefer hanging out with you and the museum than my daddy when he's home.” Reaching the counter you kick at the floor. He goes through this speech every time.

“Five miles? You're saying you walk five miles just to be here?” A hand on his hip. He looks at you like you have two heads or something.

“Yes, I walk everywhere I don't have a car. I'm saving my money so I can leave this town.”

“You need to leave his ass.”

“I know I know. It's just hard. I moved in to make sure he was alright after momma died but he started drinking again and it just got worse.” With your best doe eyes you plead for him to stop his scolding.

“The usual?” Spaulding says after giving you a disapproving look.

“Yup.”

He places a chocolate bar and a bag of chicken on the counter. Thanking him, you hand over the money. Placing the bag of chicken in your bag. You begin eating the chocolate as you wander over to Aqualina.

Hearing the ding of the doorbell you're used to the slow trickle of regulars and random travelers. But ever vigilant to make sure it's not your father. You always peek a look at whoever enters.

Today is no other day. Turning to see who it is, you're stunned. To say that you weren't staring is a lie. You've never seen him before and you're here at least twice a week.  His tall muscular stature, dark brown hair with a button up shirt that looks a little tight has you weak in the knees. Biting your lip is the only thing that keeps you from drooling. You watch him closely as he walks to the counter and talks with Spaulding. The way he's talking to him, Spaulding must know him. You briefly catch Spaulding call him RJ. Not very suttle in staring, Spaulding is looking at you. Before you can compose yourself, Spaulding's given you a wink and smirk. Embarrassed you spin back around trying to ignore them. But you keep glancing at their reflection in the glass. Spaulding fucking knows what you're doing. Cause every time you look at the glass Spaulding still has that smirk. Flustered you breeze past them and out the door. Berating yourself all the way home.

Spaulding knows.

~

This strange encounter goes on for three weeks. Every time RJ showed up you were only able to stay for a few minutes because you found yourself staring. Staring so much that your throat goes dry. Always ignoring him and Captain Spaulding before either one could say anything. This week you'll be damned if you have to leave in an embarrassment.

“What the hell are you doing?” Spotting Spaulding you make a b-line to him, leaning over the counter.

“Well I'm about to eat this tasty donut but you're interrupting me.”

“Not the donut. You know what I'm talking about. You disappear and then RJ shows up a few minutes later.” Glaring you lean in .

Suddenly he’s grabbed you by the shirt and hoisted you over the counter. Shocked your feet are dangling off the ground. Shit what have you done? Panic sets in.

“Darlin you best be minding me. I saw the two of you eye fucking. You both need to stop being pussies and get on with it.” He is wearing a mean scowl, meaner than you've ever seen.

“He.. likes me?” Now you're confused, you never noticed RJ looking at you. Hell you didn't even think he noticed you. well noticed you as a girl and not the random person who always suddenly leaves.

“Damn girl pay attention! Why the hell do you think I'm even botherin’ with this?" Aggravated he releases you.

"I don't know, to be annoying?"

"Y/N. That's the stupidest thing you've said yet. You're grounded to your corner." Deadpaning he points to your usual spot in the corner.

"Fine." Grumbling you straighten out your shirt and go to your corner. Damn it, you hate when he treats you like a child.

Like always Spaulding disappears for a few minutes, returning with a shit eating grin. Exactly fifteen minutes later in walks RJ. In the glass you see Spaulding point at you, clearly done with your shit. RJ looks at you and you quickly glance away, hoping he didn't see you staring.

A thick silence fills the room, nervous you try not to panic. You're not going to make a good impression if you're flustered. God you hope he's not a dick. The last couple guys have been assholes.

RJ quietly makes it to your side and waits. Apparently waiting for you to make the first move. Well now or never.

“Uh hi. Captain Spaulding says you go by RJ is that right?”

“Yes…failed to mention yours."

“Y/N.” Giving a small smile. His voice is better up close, it has a deep country tone to it.  

“You draw?" He eyes the sketch book in your hand.

“It's just a hobby that I get to work on here. I'm surprised Spaulding hasn't banned me yet.”

"You visit often?"

"About twice a week. I go for a walk and end up here."

"Lair. You hide out here about every other day." Spaulding chimes. Immediately turning to glare at him. He returns the look with a meaner scowl, forcing you to turn back around. Now you're just embarrassed.

"Interesting place of choice."

"Better than some places."

"Better? That's low expectations."

"Keep your expectations low and you will never be disappointed." Excited, you're able to get a chuckle out of him. He looks adorable when he smiles.

“Can I see?”

“Sure.” Tucking the pencil behind your ear you hand it to him. He flips through all of your decent and shitty drawings. Mostly shitty.

"Interesting one." Handing it back, he left it open to a particular page. It's a skull that has a glass eyeball in the forehead.

"Oh I was inspired by the whole third eye philosophy." He gives you a confused look. "The third eye or inner eye that's a mystical and esoteric concept.  Referring to an invisible eye in the middle of the forehead. That provides perception beyond ordinary sight." Staring at each other there's a moment of silence. Obviously, he did not just understand a word you said.

"That is a lot of words I don't know."

"Sorry. Sometimes I just word vomit." Motioning with your hand you pretend to vomit.

"Cute and smart."

Abort! Abort!

"Uh thanks. Never been those before." Blushing you don't know what to say. Expect that you are freaking out. He thinks you're cute and smart.

“Well I should be going. I have work in the morning. I'll see you later." You slowly walk to the door. "GOODBYE SPAULDING!”

"Bye Y/N." A muffled shout comes from the back.

"Bye RJ." You give a wave before disappearing out the door.

"Bye."

At home you find your father passed out in the recliner. You quickly clean up the empty beer bottles and trash before heading upstairs. Making sure to lock your door.

It's another two days before you make it back to Spaulding's. Like clockwork, RJ sneaks up beside you. Waiting for you to notice but you always notice. The man is a walking wall of muscle. Giving him a smile you tuck the notebook away.

“Here, I made chocolate chip cookies.”

“Thanks.” He peeks under the lid before tucking the container under his arm.

“How ungrateful. You didn't bring me none?” Spaulding shouts from the counter.

“Did you look in the container on the fridge?” Rolling your eyes you can't believe he missed it.

“What fuckin’ container?”

“Red square tin.” You point at the most identifiable item on top of the fridge.

“I'll be damned, paint my ass blue and call me a baboon. You didn't forget me after all.” Munching on the cookies he disappears into the back.

“No hope for him.” Chuckling you turn back to RJ.

“You bake?”

“Every now and then. Mainly when I have a reason to.”

"What's your favorite thing to bake?"

"Mmm. I would have to say cookies because I can eat the cookie dough while the cookies are baking."

"Doesn't that give you food poisoning?"

"They say it does but I'm willing to take the chance."

He chuckles, amused by your oddness. Maybe you’re weird for this reason.

“Do you want a ride home?”  

Surprised that he asked, you hope that this doesn't end badly if you follow him. Besides, it's still a little early to go home. Though it would be nice to spend some alone time with him. Well out of sight of Spaulding.

"Sure."

Outside you finally see what his ride is. His truck is one of those old ones. The kind where you have to slam the door shut to make sure it shuts and you have no idea how it's still operational.

Buckling your seatbelt there is a faint smell of liquor and car grease.

“You want to see something that's not at the museum?” Climbing into his seat he's got this look in his eyes.  Like he wants to test the limits of your sanity.

“Yeah, what is it?”

Smiling he puts the truck into gear. RJ drives a few miles outside of town, farther out than Spaulding's shop. He pulls onto a dirt road that leads to a farm. Surrounded by a big wooden fence with several outlying buildings and one big farmhouse. The location and isolation of the farm makes you uneasy.

"Follow me." RJ instructs exiting the truck. Nodding nervously you follow. He walks to a wood shed. “Here.” He opens the shed door.

“Wow!” Stunned you slowly walk around it. Someone has created a female Minotaur. The brown hair is styled on the cow's head sitting cross legged in shorts and t-shirt. You're unable to see the lines where the two have been attached. “Who made this?”

“Otis.”

“Otis?”

“Adoptive… Uncle? The family adopted him years ago.” He shrugs not really sure how to explain it.

“Well you can give him my regards. This is amazing.” You cautiously poke the snout.

"I'll pass it along."

The door creaks and you turn to look. Just to make sure that RJ didn't leave you, nope it's a new person entering. You knew RJ was tall but this guy is even taller! Really looking at him you see some deformities. From what you can tell they must be due to his stature.

“My brother Tiny.” RJ explains seeing your confused face.

“Hi Tiny. I'm Y/N.” It's oddly funny that his name is Tiny but he's so tall. You keep that to yourself. Tiny waves. “Nice shirt.” You point at his shirt. It says I got your back bro. One stick figure is holding the other stick figure’s back.

He seems to chuckle before grabbing a hammer and shuffling away.

"How many siblings do you have?" You make your way back to RJ’s side.

"Just Baby and Tiny."

"Baby?"

"Sister."

"Must be fun. I never had any siblings."

"You're not missing anything."

"Really?"

"Really." RJ leads you back to the truck before you can question anything else.

~

Pulling up to your house the moment is bittersweet. You don't want to go inside but you know you have to.

"Thanks for the ride. I'll see you later." Smiling, you place a hand on the door handle. You struggle a moment to open it. The door is unlocked but you have to sort of shove it for it to open.

Cracking the door, you turn to look back at RJ. Surprised. RJ has leaned over and is a few inches away. You swear he can hear your heart pounding. There's only a pause before he captures your lips. His lips are surprisingly soft and so are his movements. Without a thought you press into the kiss. Only to have him part a few moments later.

"Bye." Smirking he doesn't move as he waits for you to catch up.

"Bye." Dazed you fumble with the door trying to get out. You know you must be red as a tomato. Once out of the truck you keep peeking over your shoulder to look at him. Did he just lure you out on a date?

RJ chuckles. So refreshing. Soft and reserved, nothing like his family who are loud, opinionated and chaotic.

Since that night RJ takes you home every night you visit Spaulding. Always taking the long way around. The flirty smiles and mischievous looks on the drive home. Stealing kisses before you open the passenger door. Sometimes leading to wandering hands. Leaving you always wanting more. Making you braver every week.

That all came to a screeching stop when you came home from work to find your father already home, drunk and awake.

Making it to Spalding’s, you manage to sneak in and leave money on the counter after swiping a chocolate bar. You plan on hiding outside tonight to avoid any lectures from Spaulding.

“Howdy Y/N.”

shit.

“Hey Spaulding. Just stopped in for a candy bar, I put the money on the counter.” Almost to the door you pause.

“Y/N.”

“Yes?”

“Turn around.”

Fuck!

There's no way of escaping. In defeat you slowly turn around.

“What in the fucking hell is that?” He’s immediately around the counter and pointing at your face.

“He got back early today.”

“Did you at least hit the bastard before you left?”

“Yeah… how bad is it?”

“You haven't looked?”

“No.”

“It ain't pretty darlin.” Shaking his head you know he’s disappointed with you. You're disappointed in yourself.

“Damn.”

“Come back here. Best to hide for the moment.” He pulls you along and behind the curtain into his break room. The walls are a weird off white color. There's a recliner, a table with two chairs, a microwave and a small refrigerator on the counter. "Sit."

Not arguing you sit at the table. You're embarrassed that he caught you like this. Now he's definitely going to think you're stupid.

"Put this on it." He hands you an ice pack wrapped in a towel.

"Thanks."

He disappears back behind the curtain. Probably to turn the open sign around. With a defeated sigh you hold the ice pack just barely close enough to your face. The bruise is still tender and you haven't decided yet if the cold is making it better or worse.

Spaulding returns grumpy as ever.

"Let me see." You move your hand away slowly. "Got you good. Whole side of your face is bruised. You want to explain what happened?" Pulling the chair closer he sits in front of you.

"He found out about RJ somehow. Was waiting for me at the door. Going on about him being trash and that I'm too young for boys."

"How old are you?"

"I'm twenty seven."

"I'm only kidding but you're still a baby compared to me." Teasing he pats your knee.

"Ha ha." Huffing you put the ice pack back. "Son of a bitch!" You weren't watching and put it on your skin too quickly.

"Ah! You do have a potty mouth. I was startin' to wonder if you knew how to curse." Chuckling he leans back into the chair. Giving him the stink eye only makes him laugh harder.

The ding of the doorbell makes him stop. “That should be RJ.”

“RJ? You called RJ?” Panicking this night is just getting worse.

"You have a few pages stuck together if you think I didn't."

"Fuck." Groaning as you stand, the walk to the curtain is too short. You part the curtain not ready to explain to RJ.

“Y/N!” The drunken voice is fueled by anger.

“Daddy?”

“I should have known you would be here. Let's go!” Before you can react he's at the counter. He’s got a death grip on your arm and pulling you to the door.

“No let go.” Kicking him in the groin. His grip loosens and you push him to the floor. "Spaulding!"

Screaming you run back to the break room but a hand grips your ankle. Pulling you down with a hard thud.

"Y/N!" Yelling, a possessed look takes over.

Rolling over you use your other leg and start kicking.

"Get off me!" Screaming at him. You don't notice the figure barrelling through the door.

In a millisecond he stops. Eyes never stop staring at you. Blood trickles down his face. That's when you notice blood is everywhere and you see a giant metal hook lodged in the back of his head.

You can't process this, everything has gone numb. He's dead. The man who's tormented you these past few years. Making you regret everything you've done to help. Is dead.

"Y/N."

"RJ?" Snapping your attention upwards. It's RJ. This man must be heaven sent.

“What the fuck is this?” Spaulding yells whipping a pistol around and glancing at the body. You point at RJ. Who bends over and picks you up like you were a rag doll. Proceeding to put you over his shoulder.

"Whoa!"

“What do you think this is? A fuckin’ clean up service? RJ!” Spaulding's pissed and RJ clearly doesn't care because he walks back outside. You are confused beyond all get out.

"Damn it. I just mopped the floor." Grumbling Spaulding gets the mop.

Squealing of the truck door indicates where he has taken you. In one solid motion he moves you the passenger seat. His frame blocks any view you could have.

To your surprise he gingerly takes your chin and tilts your head. Obviously to get a better look at the damage. This flip in focus makes you feel very inadequate. Second guessing if you deserve him.

"Y/N." He noticed your avoidance with eye contact.

Finally looking at him you officially break down. "RJ I'm sorry!" Tears are pouring, body threatening to hiccup.

"Why are you sorry? I should be. I didn't get here sooner."

"He was waiting for me today. I know I should have just turned around when I saw him but I didn't. I'm so stupid! I know better not to be there when he's drunk and awake."

"Don't worry about it. He got what was coming."

"Really? But he's-"

"A dead bastard." RJ affirms. He wont have you mourning over that man.

Letting it sink in for a moment you begin to nod in agreement.

"Let's get you home. It'll be alright." He kisses your forehead giving you a tight hug.

"Okay."

so I was late to asking u things and I don't want u to have to repeat yourself so answer all the questions in the thing that you haven't already answered thank u 😌

the way I had to pull out my laptop to answer these bc I couldn’t keep them straight on my phone clipboard................ fdskjfsdkj I think I’m gonna put most of these under a read more so they don’t take up too much dash space. thank u!! <3

zinc white; how are you really feeling today? no one-word answers please!

honestly I’m great! it is currently almost 2 in the morning but my day was nice, I got some new clothes, did my laundry, made a good dinner...good vibes all around, loving it for me rn

yellow ochre; name an artist/band whom you just discovered & can’t get enough of!

I haven’t really listened to a lot of new music lately dkfjskj I think the most recent new artist I started listening to was orville peck?? but that was back in like february

naples yellow; where do you feel most at home?

uhh when I’m at home. yes I’m a homebody <3

raw sienna; with whom do you feel most at home? 

truly it’s with the thots I just feel so at ease

golden ochre; describe the relationship you have with your closest friend.

it’s just easy, u know? like no matter what we’re doing, even if we’re just vibing on our own together, it’s nice. I can tell them absolutely anything and it’s not weird and I don’t have to force it out at all

cadmium orange; what do you like to do on your days off?

ok first I always see if any of my friends are busy fkdjsfkj and if they aren’t I see if they wanna just chill or w/e but otherwise just like. turning some music up and sitting in my room with a book/a couple movies I love is ideal for me on a day off. I am very simple I just like to chill

orange lake; do you have anyone you can turn to when you’re sad?

yes! there are two whole people in this world that I spill absolutely everything to bc I trust them with my life and esp when I’m sad bc they always make me feel better. talking to them when I’m having A Day is like I vent and instantly I am normal again. they know who they are I’m sure but for transparency’s sake, it’s u (robin) and maya, no one else gets to unlock my tragic backstories <3

titans; do you prefer slow mornings or relaxing evenings? 

relaxing evenings!

shakhnazaryan red; are you currently binge-watching anything? 

actually I am currently rewatching cycles 1 through 22 of america’s next top model, I’m on like cycle 5 rn I think. having the time of my life, thanks for asking

red ochre; are you more right-brained (creative) or left-brained (analytical)?

I am very much more into creative endeavors, like work-wise, but I feel like the way I think about things is much more analytical. like I prefer Making things, writing or various crafts or what have u, but even when I create I think about the things I’m doing like analytically?? so ig left-brained

burnt sienna; is there a painting that brings you peace when you look at it? 

boy with squirrel by john singleton copley. I love him

english red; what animal do you relate to most?

interesting question! I have no idea. maybe birds? like a finch, maybe. they seem like they have fun

cadmium red; do you have a “type” when it comes to a significant other? 

this one is hard for me to answer bc like. I truly have no idea what a “type” is idk if that’s an ace thing or what. no? maybe? all the people I’ve had crushes on have been vastly different, in terms of like physical looks so probably not actually. I’m not attracted to muscular people tho bc I don’t think they have feelings <3

carmine; what does your ideal second date look like?

once again I have never pictured a date. I just want to hold hands! I think for the ideal first date question I said it just had to be going somewhere where we could Do things together, like walking around a museum or going through shops downtown or something, and that does still apply here, but for the sake of shaking it up, uhh...idk maybe staying in and watching a movie. like not at a theater no one needs to know my business like that but like. at a House. whoever’s, I’m not picky, again ideally I just want to hold hands.

madder lake red; would you ever kiss someone (or accept a kiss) on a first date?

yes. literally if the first thing u do is kiss me I am okay with it. I’m 23 someone just take the shot and kiss me already I’m going crazy over here

quinacridone rose; what’s something you’re really looking forward to? 

really looking forward to the holidays personally I got everyone some really good gifts this year and I can’t wait to hand them out. also my copy of 13 storeys is supposed to finally ship out this week, for real this time! so that’s exciting too

violet rose; what does your dream house look like? 

u know that idealized house with the yellow paint and the white trim? yes. just small and cute and homey

violet; is there any place in particular you’d like to settle down? 

I guess not?? I’d like to be somewhere near my mom bc she’s important to me but like. as long as I’m living with someone I love it doesn’t really matter where I don’t think

blue lake; what would you like to do/accomplish before you settle down?

uh. settling down to me equates to like falling in love and living together so honestly that could happen any time. I need to get a job before we live together so I can like Help Out but like. really any time

cobalt blue spectral; what is the most beautiful place you have ever been to?

I have not been to a lot of places! I’ve been to new york, and san diego, and like. phoenix outside of where I live so. actually if I can include like buildings in places I would like to say that one opera house I went to in new york. I learned I wasn’t a fan of operas BUT I also learned those chandeliers were cool as hell

ultramarine; when was the last time you were in a good mood? do you know/remember what sparked it?

I’m usually in a good mood, I think? my baseline mood is genuinely just like. happy/chill, pero I think the last time I felt Euphoria (tm) was a couple days ago when my mom and I made a really nice dinner together and my brother was there and we just played board games all night

blue; what’s the most recent dream you remember?

I have this recurring habit of waking up from dreams but only barely so when I fall back asleep it feels like I just woke up within the dream? anyway the last one was like that but in one of the times I ‘woke up’ I looked out the window and instead of outside there was like this. static photo of buffalo grazing in open fields?? and it was like green screened kinda, so when I move the image moved with my line of sight it was weird. that’s how I knew it was a dream and woke myself up again, only to immediately fall back asleep and feel like I was waking up from a dream within a dream again

bright blue; what does your dream family look like? any kids or pets? how many of each?

I think living with friends would be cool. like I want to have a significant other I live with but also if we lived with other friends that would be fun. kids, maybe! would be something I’d have to discuss with whatever partner I have in the future. if yes to kids, max two. also I don't want babies, preferably I would adopt older children. pets absolutely, however many doesn’t matter. I’m open to just living in a house with the love of my life and like twelve dogs, that’s ok with me

blue cobalt; do you like your name? would you give yourself a different name if you could?

I do like my name! I think it’s nice and it feels like it fits me. I don’t think I’d change it ever, but if I did I think maybe I’d go with jude bc yes I do love to project <3

prussian azure; what’s your favorite scent?

it’s a tie between suntan lotion and the lumber aisle of any hardware store

azure blue; what’s your favorite type of tea, if any?

vanilla rooibos tea supremacy!

turquoise blue; if you could start a garden, what would you plant?

lots of flowers, first of all. also some kitchen herbs. maybe some fruits!

cerulean blue; if you were guaranteed to have a viewership, would you start a youtube vlog?

yes <3 I want to force people to listen to my pretentious horror opinions and get paid for it

glauconite; describe your body without using any negative adjectives.

look I just have to say it: I’m hot. last night I took a photo and saw my nose from the side and went “omg who IS she” like it’s cute. I’M cute. I’ve seen my ass in the mirror and nothing can top it, sorry

yellow green; picture yourself walking in a field. what do you see & hear in this scenario?

all I’m getting is those scenes from horror movies where eerie whistling starts and like birds start going crazy

green light; are you in a comfortable place in life? if not, what do you think might make it better?

I think so?? I’d like to be more financially secure, pero. I think for the most part yeah I’m alright

green; name three countries you want to visit; do you have any actual plans in place to visit any of them?

ireland and greece for sure, ireland is the one I have most planned out in my head. ig maybe england for the third one, just bc I know my mom wants to go and also I’m very bad at geography so I don’t know what counts as a country. I had to look all these up, I do want to visit them tho, genuinely! esp ireland

emerald green; do you speak any languages besides english? are there any additional languages you want to learn?

the one I’m most fluent in is spanish! and I’m still cracking along at russian, currently I can hold a conversation with like a 4 year old and we can understand each other, it’s pretty cool. I really wanna get into learning irish!! I have a few resources downloaded onto my phone I just haven’t gotten around to it yet

oxide of chromium; what’s your favorite book?

a little life <3 yes I hate it when things are sad just to be sad yes this is my favorite book I contain multitudes

mars brown; what’s a movie that always puts a smile on your face/makes you laugh?

the burbs! I’ve seen it so many times but it always hits

burnt umber; what’s something you plan to do before the day is over to take care of yourself?

the day IS over it’s like two thirty am now but uh. drink some water before I sleep probably

voronezhskaya black; what or who is your go-to outlet for when you need to vent?

I post the “kirby’s fucking pissed” meme on twitter and then I ask u (robin) if I can yell for like five minutes and then I feel valid and then I am normal again

payne’s gray; describe your aesthetic?

it’s a little bit jock and it’s a little bit 1980s skater boy but the best way I can really Describe it is just “gay”