#models are usually too pretty and popstars are usually too kind-looking | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

xhanisai · 4 years

Note

Can I be that one annoying fan that spams you every day with basically the same question? That being Kiss AU frightningale. If you would be so kind.

Well, since you kindly gave me that Ko-Fi UwUwUwU, I can spare an ounce of kindness~~~

This will be a long one~ Enjoy! (P.S. I have made a lot of changes here to make this, hopefully much more interesting…)

The episode starts off with Gabriel dragging his son away to the venue for the Chat Noir costume fitting. Adrien’s trying everything to escape, ranging from faking he’s sick to clinging to the railings on the stairs. Gabriel and Nathalie struggled to get him to let go but Gorilla comes to their rescue, managing to pluck him off with ease.

“You’ll never take me alive!” Adrien hollered out childishly, kicking his legs and banging his fists against Gorilla’s back as he was held like a sack of potatoes, the group making way out of the house and to the limo.

“Never make us do that again, Son.” Gabriel grumbled out, running his fingers through his unruly hair before quickly straightening the locks back. A frazzled Nathalie handed him a comb with a huff.

“How about, don’t force me into doing things I don’t want to? Hmm?” Adrien sassed, looking as intimidating as a caught kitten. He could feel Plagg cackling in his jacket, the cursed being doing nothing to help.

“It’s just a fitting Adrien- plus it’s a very good opportunity for you! You get to meet an international popstar and perform in her music video, dressed up as one of those superheroes you adore.”

“B-B-But…I’m just a stick! I won’t do any justice to Chat Noir’s muscles and abs!” For effect, Adrien poked his shoulders. “See? Skin and bones.”

“Nonsense~ my stylists have commented about your developing muscles during your shoots. All those fencing and basketball lessons have been paying off,” Mr. Agreste chirped with a cheesy grin, pushing his glasses back against the nose. Adrien was immediately reminded of those dopey glasses characters in the hundreds of anime he’s watched.

“Besides, Mlle. Dupain-Cheng will be picked up by Vincent and his crew in five minutes to meet up at the venue and dress as your counterpart.” Nathalie added, scrolling through her tablet. She then flickered her eyes towards the boy’s curious face, glasses glinting under the light for a split second. “You wouldn’t want her to be paired with any other random Parisian, right?”

You see, Adrien is usually a very bright boy, evidenced by his top grades, ability to adapt and so on.

This is not the case right now.

Completely dismissing the disastrous problem awaiting him, Adrien’s mind was clouded with utmost jealousy. Images of his talented Princess being oogled by some…some random KID in HIS costume…making her SMILE and even…HOLDING HER HAND???

‘Oh my God…what if they try to make the boy kiss my Marinette?’ Adrien screams internally, dismissing another important factor before jumping out of Gorilla’s grasps (who coincidentally loosens his grip) and darted inside the vehicle.

“TO THE VENUE! ONLY I CAN BE THE CHAT NOIR TO MARINETTE’S LADYBUG!” The boy beeped the horn for good measures.

“Why didn’t you use my daughter-in-law’s name to coax him in the first place, Nathalie?” Gabriel’s eyebrow twitched with irritation. His assistant simply mirrored the look.

“It was one way I was able to get you to do some workout, sir.” Her eyes narrowed further but inside, she was fighting a grin when Gabriel spluttered. “After all, someone has been gaining a few extra pounds ever since we got friendly with your future in-laws.”

“I-I have no idea what you mean!” Her boss harrumphed, entering the limo with a grumble. Nathalie didn’t miss the way he clutched his stomach with a pout. “It’s not my fault that they don’t let me leave till they’ve fed me three helpings of dumplings…”

Meanwhile, Marinette is kidnapped hauled away by Vincent, Alya and the rest of the girls from her class, much to her protests. Sabine and Tom watches the scene unfold with a cup of tea in hand and some sweets. Their smiles only broadening.

“Alya-aaaa! Lemme go! Lemme go-ooooo!” What good was being Ladybug when she can’t seem to escape her best friend’s shoulder, getting carried away like a THING? Marinette let out another huff as the girls finally made way outside, a car waiting for them.

“You can keep wriggling and fighting but you’re no match with Mama Bear Alya’s muscles~!” Her best friend hooted, flexing her free arm with exaggeration as the rest of the group giggled. “And gurl! You’re light as hell! What the heck? No wonder you can’t make me budge.”

“I am big and strong! I can take you all in one go! I’ll prove it right now!” Marinette retaliated. No one took her seriously. “I just wanted to be a backup dancer and so did Adrien!!!” The girl resorted back to whining again, flopping in defeat.

“Really? He was actually pretty adamant in taking the Chat Noir role.” Mylene nodded as did the others.

“What? Since when? We both agreed to be backup with you girls yesterday night during a call.”

“Someone call Barbie Doll right now,” Alya suggested whilst shoving Marinette inside the car unceremoniously, ignoring her groans. Alix rolled her eyes, whipping her phone out and got inside the vehicle, purposely squishing Marinette against the car’s door on the other side so that she had no means of escape.

The model finally picked up when the girls were on the road, his annoyance clear through the speaker.

“Don’t tell me you girls are already at the venue and some loser stole my role- the traffic here is mental!” Rose and Juleka hid their snickering at this.

“What role? Adrien! We agreed to be backup dancers- what’s with you wanting to be Chat Noir now?” Marinette butted in, glaring at the phone despite the recipient not being able to see her face.

“O-OH!? Morning Princess~”

“Don’t ‘Princess’ me you big, annoying, dummy-”

“Okay, Sweetcheeks it is then,”

“NO.��

“Sugarberry?”

“STOP.”

“But Darling~”

“ADRIEN!”

“Hey, now listen here. I didn’t do this on purpose ya know? I was all decked up and ready to be a backup dancer but Pere and Nathalie had other plans!”

“And you went along with it?”

“They had to get the Gorilla to literally get me out of the house! Give me some credit here, Marinette!” Adrien groaned, slumping against his seat, knowing very well that his trio of guardians were all wearing matching grins under that poker face of theirs.

“A-Ah, okay, so basically the same thing as me then, right?” Marinette almost felt bad for going off on him.

“Mmhm, besides,”

“Oh?”

“I refuse to let any dumb boy take away MY woman.” Marinette could literally feel the cat radiating from him, annoyance pumping through her veins. Of COURSE he relents into his father’s whims due to jealousy! A tiny part of her brain was rather flattered, making her heart flutter but the raven haired girl immediately brushed those thoughts away.

“You never really put up much of a fight after you found out I was gonna be forced to play Ladybug, right?” The baker girl’s tone was dry as hell.

“Your point?” She couldn’t believe Adrien had the nerves to answer like that.

“YOU BETTER WATCH YOUR ASS AGRESTE! COS WHEN I’M THROUGH WITH YOU-”

“Oh please do be gentle~”

“ADRIEN!?”

“Love ya~~~mwah!” With a triumphant grin, Adrien hung up the phone. He knew very well of how much trouble he’s in but he’ll focus on that hurdle when it comes to it. Gabriel and Nathalie only eyed the teen incredulously, the former pinching the bridge of his nose. Why oh why is his son like this…?

Both cars simultaneously arrive at the venue, making Adrien realise how much danger he’s in. He could literally feel Marinette’s rage seeping out of the car. Nathalie pretty much kicked him out so that he can face his responsibilities. Both he and Mari have a stare off- the latter itching to throttle him whilst the boy whistles innocently.

Marinette doesn’t get a chance to drag Adrien away as they’re both led into the venue by their peers, finally seeing people trying out the superhero roles. It was then that Adrien recalled why he and Mari settled to be backup dancers in the first place.

“Oh shit…” Adrien finally uttered when a boy slipped on the Chat Noir mask. His eyes then drifted to Marinette, wincing at her pointed glare before averting his gaze again. He fucked up. Their identities are screwed!

The duo were too preoccupied with their thoughts to process Clara’s enthusiasm and squeals, babbling about how they’ve been going through hundreds of candidates for hours.

“Wait- how come those two get the role immediately? We don’t even know if they’re good enough!” One of the teens exclaimed, hands on hips and glowered. Clara sweatdropped at this. “We’ve been waiting here for ages! Is this all for nought?”

A light bulb appeared on both the secret heroes’ heads, both wearing a matching grin as they turned towards each other.

‘You thinking what I’m thinking?’

‘You bet so, Princess~’

‘Don’t call me Princess. I’m still mad at you.’

‘Oh boo…’

Marinette and Adrien were quick to agree with the teen, claiming how they should wait like everyone else so that there’s a fair chance without paying mind to Gabriel’s glares. The rest of the girls lined up for the backup roles, wishing the duo good luck whilst the adults were pulled away elsewhere.

“Thank God…” Marinette sighed in relief. She vowed to give the teen an autograph the next time she’s transformed. The girl looped her arm through Adrien’s, both of them sticking with the Chat Noir line (the staff knew they were going to perform as a packaged deal so they didn’t necessarily have to wait separately).

“You got a plan Bugaboo?” Adrien was met with a snort but all he did was roll his eyes fondly. “Aight, still mad, no nicknames. Got it,” With a smirk, he tried kissing her cheek to soften her up but his lips met her hand clasping his mouth instead, blocking him.

“Adrien…” The boy deflated at her disappointed tone. This is what he was worried about, disappointment. “Ugh- I can’t even be mad at you for long. We were both forced into this.” He almost perked up. “But you didn’t even attempt to sneak away when your father was distracted. You’re usually really good at that, dummy.” She playfully punched his shoulder.

“Forgive me?” Adrien’s eyes twinkled like a kitten. The aspiring designer found herself melting.

The model considered her blush as a win, engulfing her in an ecstatic hug despite Mari trying her best not to care.

‘They really do make a perfect Ladybug and Chat Noir…’ Clara mused at the front. She’ll endure another hour of the other candidates trying out the roles happily if it meant that she could get THOSE two in.

Marinette’s plan involved not only losing the masks in the changing rooms but also messing up their try out as much as possible. The duo were also quite shocked to see Chloe audition and actually do a good job! As much as she’s a pain, that’s one less hurdle to jump over for them. However, Chloe’s attitude and rudeness really put Clara off so she didn’t make it through the auditions.

By the time it’s our superheroes’ turn, they put the plan to action. The masks were conveniently hidden away and the duo botched up everything they were meant to do for the auditions.

They clasped their hands like a handshake when asked to hold hands, they flopped on their faces after every acrobatic move, Adrien even fell off stage at one point, only bruising his knees and a blow to his pride. Clara and Gabriel didn’t give up on them; they found the masks and beckoned the duo to put them on.

We have the tense moment where time goes still as Marinette and Adrien eyes the masks in their hands. Silent apologies are given to each other as they slowly brought the masks closer to their faces.

As per canon, Chloe barges in with the Mayor in tow, piles of paper in hand, claiming that Clara has no permission in shooting in France. The poor singer gets her mike thrown on the floor, much to Marinette and Adrien’s protests. Alya and co try to help Clara up but the singer runs off crying. Gabriel quietly shuffles inside one of the bathrooms, locking it and transforms into Le Papillon to akumatise the woman.

Soon, Frightningale makes her debut, whipping everyone with her wand and turning them to statues if they didn’t sing in rhymes and dance. Marinette lures herself and Adrien into one of the changing caravans so that they can transform.

“Once again, Butterfly Breath and Little Miss Brat saved us. I thought they’re the villains as well,” Marinette hummed.

“Hey.” Adrien flicked her nose softly. “Don’t be mean to Chlo’,” His shit eating grin only grew at Marinette’s gaping face.

“E-Excuse me!? Don’t be mean to the girl who made Clara Nightingale CRY-” She stopped mid rant and scoffed, refusing to play into anymore of the boy’s teasing. Tikki and Plagg floated out from Marinette’s twin ponytails, admiring their costumes once more.

“You should really do something about your childhood friend, Adrien.” Tikki scolded.

“Hey! My kitten isn’t obliged to parent that bossy brat into a decent human being. He tried to anyways and it’s like she’s deaf to anything that’s humane!” Plagg countered back. The kwamis fell into an argument in a language that neither teens could understand.

“I’ve reprimanded Chloe about her behaviour so many times, I’m starting to feel like a broken record. The more I tell her to stop, the worse she gets,” Adrien fiddled with the mask as a gloom settled in the vicinity. “Maybe she’s a lost cause…” The idea of losing hope in a friend he’s known since he was born was enough to have his chest tighten in pain.

“Or maybe we’ll have to give her a wake up call.” Marinette suggested with a smile, laying a hand on his forearm. “This isn’t your fault. It’s her parents’ responsibility to discipline her- not you. From what I’ve seen, you’ve told her off more in a week than her father probably has in her entire lifetime. That’s better than nothing.”

“What’s the point if it doesn’t do shit?”

“The point is that you’re trying, you’re doing your best. You’re doing what you can to help her rather than being a doormat or letting her walk over people in front of you. I don’t think you’ve realised that the torment she used to spread has lessened in school ever since you’ve arrived.”

“…” Adrien bit his lip before glancing back at Marinette, swiftly turning her around so that he could embrace her from behind. He rested his forehead on her shoulder and pressed her back into his torso. “If it weren’t for you in my life, I wouldn’t even be half the person I am now…thank you Marinette…”

All the words disappeared in her throat, face redder than a tomato. Marinette mustered the will to put her hand on his head and let her fingers comb through the tresses.

“Where’s all this coming from?” The girl finally asked.

“Nothing…just super grateful that you exist, Bug.” He slowly picked his head up and puckered his lips against her cheek with a pure, innocent, softness that could be rivalled by silk. Both of their hearts sped up in sync as they tried to decipher each others feelings. Is this just a grateful kiss?

Or…

Is it something more?

Feeling like her heart was about to burst out of her chest, Marinette promptly spun around to face Adrien and crashed her lips against his, pushing the boy against the wall. She was deaf to the kwamis’ sudden protests as they were pulled into the miraculouses, transforming the teens into their original suits.

Ladybug tugged and tugged on Chat Noir’s bottom lip, eyes squeezed shut as both her slender hands cradled his face. The sweetness of their lips was a huge contrast of the ferocity and passion of their feelings, evidenced by the gasps they let out.

She didn’t pull away, no. She kept going after his lips over and over again. His touch was like fire on her body and she was burning.

“Mm- Bug…Mari…Hm- Marinette-” She cut him off with a kiss everytime he uttered a word. Chat Noir knew that if he were to die now, he’d die happily. Ravished and thoroughly kissed by the one he loves. When his Lady’s swollen lips trailed down his jaw, teeth barely grazing his skin, Noir gripped her shoulders and gently pushed her back.

His entire face was flushed and his eyes were glazed, as if he was in a dream like state. He let out an exhale, leaning his forehead against hers when she wrapped an arm around his middle. From all their past experiences, Ladybug knew that his silence was due to embarrassment, especially when she took the reigns. She decided to put the nail in the coffin.

“I’d be nothing without you,” Ladybug whispered into Chat’s human ears, lips brushing the shell before skipping out of the van. A sly smirk escaped her when the sound of a body tumbling on the floor and a soft groan was emitted by the boy.

“Hnnnn that girl is gonna be the death of me, godammit!”

Just like canon, they attempted to fight Frightningale but ended up getting zapped by the whip. They sing and dance their way through, using the lucky charm to their advantage and even waltzing at some point (whether that was to deter the akuma or just an excuse to hold each other close, neither of them admitted).

Once purified, Clara is quick to coo and thank the heroes, even flustering them when she mentioned how much of a cute married pair they are. The Heroine whispers an alternate plan for the video so that not only would Clara not get in trouble for shooting, there’d be a way to incorporate many people. Ladybug and Chat Noir are quick to leave when she asks how many kids they have and if their children had the same costumes as them.

The episode ends with the whole class watching the video at the library, commenting and cheering whenever one of them showed up. The video ends with Marinette wearing a Chat Noir mask and Adrien wearing a Ladybug pair. This gave Alya and the girls the opportunity to tease the lovebirds about their terrible auditions before the shooting.

“You’re right! I’d make a terrible Ladybug. Besides, I think black is more of my colour, don’t you agree, Buggaboy?” Marinette teased, eating up the way Adrien’s cheeks reddened for a split second. He knew she was never going to let up the fact that he almost combusted on the spot when she wore his mask.

“Always knew you were a furry, Marichat,” He delivered with a wink, his ego boosted with the way everyone else burst into laughter despite Marinette’s incredulous disagreements.

“I didn’t sign up for this! Hmmph! Not even the real Chat Noir would be this mean,” She blew a raspberry and crossed her arms, slouching on her seat.

“You’re right, he’d treat you like the princess you are,” Adrien quickly swooped in, kissing her brow. The crease between her brows softened as a result and a light blush decorated her cheeks. They darkened when everyone else quipped with how ‘smooth’ or ‘cheesy’ Adrien was being.

“Just get married already!” Kim sighed in mock disgust. “Your flirting has put all of ours combined to shame, Agreste,”

“Wasn’t aware that you guys knew how to flirt,” The cheeky boy clicked his tongue, quickly darting off whilst his boy group gave chase (along with Alix). A few mock threats were heard before the noise faded away, out of the door.

“Think they’ll keep him alive, Mariboo~?” Alya nudged her best friend’s shoulder, stealing Adrien’s seat.

“I think they’d do me a favour if they killed him.” Marinette huffed.

“You don’t mean tha-aaaaat,”

“You’re right, I don’t,” Marinette dropped the hard to get act and squealed, the rest of the girls joining, huddling her into a group hug.

THE END.

I HOPE THIS WAS AIGHT!

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ghostlyhamburger · 4 years

Text

Under Agreste: The Show

Rating: T

Pairings: Adrienette, Adrigami

Read on Ao3

Adrien was given a few more blissful hours of sleep while the contestants did some kind of trivia contest to determine which group date they’d be going on.

He was awoken by a knock at the trailer door. He stumbled over, blinking sleep out of his eyes, and opened it to see a woman with dark hair and a smile that promised Adrien had no room to argue with anything she said. “Morning, Sunshine. Ready for your dates?”

“Do I have a choice?” he muttered. “Just tell me what I’m doing.”

“You’re going to wardrobe,” she replied. “Then, off to the music festival. Oh, and you’re picking one of them for a private date tomorrow, so keep that in mind.”

He met up with seven of the contestants at the dance studio. They were all dressed in varying types of athleticwear—from Chloe in booty shorts and a sports bra to Juleka in a loose sweatshirt and pants.

Adrien approached one of the group standing to the side. “You chose to go with dancing?”

Sophie, if he remembered right, snorted and gestured to the cane in their hand. “I drew the short straw this time.”

“I…” He trailed off into silence as he started overthinking his next question, not wanting to offend.

“Don’t worry about me,” Sophie said. “I’ll do what I can, and I’ll sit on the side when I need to. I know my own limits.”

“Okay,” he said awkwardly. “Just, uh, have fun.”

“Adrien. Over here,” the producer who’d woken him up (he’d learned her name was Alya) said sharply, pulling him along by the arm. “Okay, stand there, lights are good, now introduce the celebrity guest to the ladies, and we are rolling!”

“Hey everyone,” Adrien said, able to instantly turn on the charm. “I’d like you all to meet a good friend of mine, who’s going to lead a dance class for us—Clara Nightingale!”

The contestants cheered and applauded as the popstar entered the studio, waving happily.

“Hello everyone, it’s great to meet you!” she cried. “Now let’s start the music and bust a groove!”

Music blasted into the room, and Clara started to show them a series of dance steps, encouraging the girls and Adrien to follow along. After it seemed like most of them had the hang of it, Adrien was sent out of the room.

“What’s going on now?” he asked Alya.

“They’re going to practice a little show for you, basically,” she replied. “You just wait out here. Sorry, Sunshine, but waiting for the girls to do something will be most of your day.”

“Fine by me,” he said with a shrug. “So, uh, where’s that other producer? Marinette?”

“Working with the Jagged Stone group,” Alya replied. “You’ll see her later today. And Nino’s got the XY group, so you’ll see him too.”

Adrien made a face on hearing the popstar’s name.

“Buck up, Sunshine, while the cameras are on you, you’re XY’s biggest fan.”

“Why do you call me that?” he asked.

“Sunshine? It’s your hair,” she replied. “That, and you’re a sweet guy. Never met anyone who met you and didn’t like you. Why, you hate the nickname or something?”

“Uh, thanks,” he said, smiling. “I don’t mind the name.”

Adrien was led back inside the room by an eager Clara. “The girls have worked so hard, it’s true! And now they’ll all dance just for you!”

He was directed to stand in the center of the room as the contestants lined up. They each danced across the room, performing a series of rehearsed moves around him, holding onto him and giving him a kiss on the cheek at the right timing of the music (except Sophie, who sat on the side and blew him a kiss).

But then, Chloe’s turn to dance came, and she kissed him right on the lips. He tried to hold her at arm’s length, but she was surprisingly strong.

“Okay, we got the shot, can someone get her off Sunshine?” Alya called. “Kid looks like he’s going to puke.”

A couple of cameramen wrestled Chloe away from Adrien, who barely had time to shoot a grateful glance towards Alya before he was hustled away to the next date.

“Hey, dude,” Nino greeted Adrien as he arrived at the recording studio. “You a fan of XY?”

“I’ve been told I am when the cameras are on,” he replied.

“Good enough for me. So, the girls have been practicing a song that he wrote, they’re going to sing it to you, you’re going to record a track with all of them. And then it goes on Spotify and no one remembers this shitty reality show song, but, hey, it’s all about fun, right?”

Adrien laughed. “Yeah, I guess. Fun and finding a wife.”

He sat in the studio, and the girls cycled in and out of the recording booth, a small space with a few instruments set up, each contestant singing the same few bars of a mediocre song. Something about loving life and wanting to be cool. Some of them were having fun, and some pulled faces, clearly not enjoying the song at all.

Adrien tried not to laugh too much, but one girl’s disgusted face and tone during the lyric “I wanna shake my booty and find a real cutie” drove him over the edge, causing him to bend over, coughing from how hard he was laughing.

“That was great!” he told Cherie as she exited the recording booth. “Loved it!”

She flashed a grin at him before Kagami stepped into the booth.

“Excuse me,” she said. “I’d like to request that I play the music, instead of using the backing track.”

Adrien shrugged. “Works for me.”

Kagami sat down at the piano and began to play, her fingers deftly flying across the keys as she played the same melody—but without the synthesized beat on top of it, it sounded pretty good. The lyrics were unfortunately still the same, but her voice was strong and clear.

Behind the scenes, Nino directed the lights in the studio be lowered, except the booth light directly over Kagami’s head. Adrien didn’t notice, simply watched as she seemed to radiate brightness and everything around her faded.

When she finished, she looked out through the glass of the booth and asked, “How was that?”

“Amazing,” Adrien replied, giving her a genuine smile. “That was great.”

Adrien was shuttled to a much more familiar sight—a photo studio. He headed inside and was immediately pushed to a changing area and handed some clothes.

At least he knew what to do here. He changed into the outfit given to him, something very different from the usual stuff he wore for Gabriel. Dark ripped jeans, a graphic tee, black leather jacket—this was far more his style than what his father had ever designed, and it was actually comfortable, too.

Once changed, he found himself automatically walking over to the hair and makeup area, knowing what came next without even thinking. Marinette was standing at one of the makeup chairs, and waved at him, motioning him over.

“Hey!” she said brightly as he sat down. “So, did anyone tell you what’s going on?”

“Of course not,” he replied with an easy grin. “I know how to be a model, though.”

“Well, right now, the girls are picking out their outfits. This whole date thing is a makeover with Jagged Stone, so everyone’s going to be rock-and-roll!” She gave a quick air guitar riff as she imitated Jagged’s accent.

Adrien chuckled. “Nice. This actually sounds like fun.”

“So, since all the pro makeup artists are going to be on camera getting the girls ready, I’m filling in to help you,” she said. “You ready?”

“You do makeup too?” he asked in surprise, keeping his face otherwise still as she started to brush foundation onto his skin.

“Yeah, my dream as a kid was to be a fashion designer, so I spent most of high school teaching myself all different aspects of it—photography, makeup, hair, photoshop, all of it. Makeup is really fun, it’s like painting, but on skin.”

“So what led you to work in reality TV instead?” he asked.

“Oh, I had an internship, and then I got fired a few days in,” she replied. “Close your eyes for me? It’s funny, it actually was with Gabriel. I messed up someone’s coffee order, and I was told that if I couldn’t even get coffee details right, I wouldn’t be able to get clothing details right either, and I was out.”

“I’m so sorry,” Adrien said softly, opening his eyes and glancing up on her cue. “You shouldn’t have been fired over that.”

Marinette shrugged. “It’s okay. My best friends were working for Alec on his production team at the time, and they needed a new assistant, so I got the job. And it turns out, I’m really good at managing schedules and large groups of people, so, here I am.”

“Why didn’t you try to get a job with another fashion house?”

“You’re kidding, right?” she asked. “You know how big your father’s company is. Once you’ve been fired from there, no one wants you anymore. I’ve basically been blacklisted.”

He frowned. “That’s not right. You screwed up one coffee and you’re locked out of your dream industry for life? I’ve made way worse mistakes!”

“Not all of us are lucky enough to be born into the right industry, Adrien,” she said softly. “It’s fine, really. It’s been years, I’ve cried enough over it, I’m moving on and focusing on the now.”

He reached out, catching her wrist as she turned to grab a different brush. “Hey. It’s still not right, and if you want—I can talk to my father and at least get you a good recommendation.”

“I—I don’t know,” she said. “I’ve given up on that, I’m here now…I don’t know if I want to change my life around again.”

“Let me know, okay?” he asked. “You’ve been really nice to me, I want to help you.”

She grinned as she turned back to him. “All right. Just one more thing—is it okay if I touch you?”

“Uh, yes? I’m not really used to people asking that.”

Marinette frowned and bit her lip, but simply said, “You need to look like you’ve been passionately making out with your favorite girls, so—here.” She moved her thumb against his lower lip, smearing the red lipstick she’d put there for just this purpose.

Her fingertip was soft, and he felt just a small twinge of disappointment when she pulled her hand back.

“So!” she said, turning away from him. “Have you picked your girl for the private date?”

“Still thinking about it,” he replied. “I might choose Kagami, though.”

Marinette smiled, though she still wasn’t looking right at him. “Good call. She seems like one of the nice ones. Nino gets the bonus if you pick her, and he deserves it.”

“How many do I need to choose to get rid of, though?” Adrien asked.

“Four.”

“And I still can’t pick Lila?”

Marinette laughed. “No. You can’t pick Lila. Now, head over to the stage, say hi to Jagged for me, and do the modeling thing you’re so good at. I’ll see you later.”

Adrien barely remembered the photoshoot. It felt like nearly every other one he’d done, except that his fellow ‘models’ were trying to win his heart, and his favorite rockstar was yelling encouragement from the side.

The important thing he did pay attention to was Jagged Stone inviting them all to front-row seats at his concert that night.

After the cameras filmed him and the contestants dancing to one song, they miraculously went away, which meant the crew got to join in the crowd. Adrien found himself right beside Marinette, who grinned at him as she jumped and headbanged to the music, singing along as loud as possible.

Adrien’s next day was mostly free, but Nino stopped by the trailer to encourage him to come by the mansion and talk to all the girls, get to know them.

As he entered the mansion, he heard shouting, and headed over to see Lila yelling at Marinette, as the latter was restocking the wet bar for the girls.

“I saw you dancing with him!” Lila shouted. “You’re not even someone he should be looking at!”

“Yeah, you caught me dancing, at a concert,” Marinette replied sarcastically. “You do realize I’m pushing for you to win, right? I’m your producer, not your competition.”

“Then maybe you should do your job and produce instead of having your slut hands all over Adrien!”

Marinette just rolled her eyes as she stood up from the bar, then smiled. “Oh, hey, Adrien.”

Lila spun around, a wide grin on her face, all traces of anger gone. “Adrien, hi!” she cooed. “I had so much fun last night.”

“Really?” he asked, unable to stop the amused grin that crossed his face. “I don’t know, you seemed a little jealous.”

Her smile fell and she glared daggers at Marinette for just a moment before stuttering out, “W-well, of course! I don’t want to have to share you with all these women.”

“Try to be nice to them,” he said, gently admonishing. “It’s really important to me that you all get along. I don’t want anyone to be hurt here.”

“Of course,” Lila said, her tone syrupy sweet. “We’ll be all like sisters.”

Adrien glanced over at Marinette, who physically could not roll her eyes any harder, but gave him a thumbs up.

He smiled at her before leaving the room to explore the large house. He didn’t see everything before his eye was drawn by a large game room, set up with systems and arcade cabinets. Surely no one would mind if he played a few rounds of Ultimate Mecha Strike…

The contestants wandered in and out as he played, some of them joining him, others just watching. He didn’t pay that much attention until he heard a snort from the doorway.

“Video games? Really?” the woman, Josee, asked. “I thought we were all adults here.”

“Hey, I’m not giving up my ranking in UMS for anything,” he replied. “You want a round.”

“Uh, no.” With that, she turned and walked off.

Adrien sighed as he kept playing. At least this time the contestants were making his choice easy for him.

The cameras followed Adrien closely as he crossed through the mansion to find his date for the evening.

“Kagami,” he said, drawing her attention away from the book she was reading. “Would you do me the honor of being my date for this evening?”

She smiled. “I would love to.”

They ended up on a boat floating along the Seine. They were the only two people in the boat, but the cameras were set in other boats, tethered to the side. As they sailed down the river, they could hear snippets of music from the various concerts for the festival.

“I really liked what you did with XY’s song,” Adrien said. “You actually made it sort of good.”

Kagami smiled. “I don’t think anything could have saved that booty line.”

“Oh, no way,” he replied, laughing.

“Honestly, I wish I had met Clara,” Kagami said. “Or really, any other musician, if you can call XY a musician.”

Adrien leaned close and confessed, “I’ve been told I am a huge fan of his when the cameras are on, so…”

She laughed, moving her hand over her mouth to hide the noise.

“Your singing voice is great, by the way,” he said. “I liked listening to you.”

“And I really like talking to you,” she replied. “I hope I can get to know you a lot better.” She leaned forward and placed her hand on top of his. He just smiled, and laced his fingers with hers.

It was late when Kagami and Adrien arrived back at the mansion. The cameras caught him giving her a soft kiss on the cheek before they were both rushed off to prepare for the elimination ceremony.

Marinette was the one to bring Adrien the tray of guitar picks he’d be giving to the girls who stay. “You got this?” she asked.

He nodded. “I’m good. I can do this.”

“Damn, if private dates are going to chill you out that much, I can’t wait to see you after all the other ones,” she replied. “Good luck!”

The ceremony went by in a blur, with nearly no tears this time. Ondine, Christine, Josee, and Sophie were all asked to leave, and none of them had much argument or disappointment.

When it was over, Adrien headed back towards his trailer, passing Marinette talking to Kagami. The two girls shared a laugh over something, and he stopped in his tracks to watch them, smiling as all his stress from the day seemed to melt away.

He realized that maybe he would find love on this show, after all.

“Next time: Adrien and the girls give back to the local community! And are sparks flying between him and a certain somebody?”

#ml fanfiction #miraculous ladybug fanfiction #bachelor au #ghostly writes

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purrincess-chat · 5 years

Text

Marinette Dupain-Cheng’s Spite Playlist: Original CH17

Surprise! A day late/early

Previous First Next

Chapter 17

“I’m glad we’re finally getting to do this.”

The night was warm, and the chatter of several other diners sounded across the restaurant as Marinette looked out over the city. At Adrien’s declaration, she flicked her gaze back to his with a smile, reaching to lace her fingers through his.

“Dinner at the Eiffel Tower seems a bit extravagant for a first date,” she teased, and he let out a breathy laugh.

“You deserve the best. Besides, we’re celebrating,” he said, giving her hand a squeeze. “You impressed two of the most hard-to-please people in existence.”

“I still can’t believe it honestly. I half expected her to throw me out.” Marinette lowered her gaze to her plate. “I just hope the show goes well in a few months.”

“It will. I’ll be modeling for you, and I’m sure the others will too if you ask,” Adrien assured her, and Marinette bit her lip. “What did Macy say when you told her?”

“I haven’t yet,” Marinette admitted, pushing her food around with her fork. “I asked Audrey if I could make one of the dresses because it’s very important to me. The dress I designed for Macy…I poured everything into its design. I just hope she likes it.”

“She will. I’m sure of it,” Adrien said, and Marinette smiled up at him.

“I have to admit, I’m a bit nervous about everything. If the show goes well then I’ll be famous, but if it goes bad then my career will be ruined,” she said, pursing her lips. “I don’t know. I guess when I pictured entering the fashion world, I imagined being fresh out of university, but I’m not even out of college yet.”

“It’s normal to be nervous,” he said, skewering a mushroom with her fork and lifting it to her lips. “You’re about to change the world and prove that Lila is a liar. It’s going to be messy.”

“I know,” she said after swallowing. “But I can’t truly be free from her when she still holds everyone hostage. I just can’t bring myself to walk away.”

“I’m sure you’ll be fine. If anyone can do it, it’s you.” Adrien lifted her hand to his lips, but when she still seemed unsettled, he added, “I’ll be right by your side the whole time helping you, and so will all of your friends. You don’t have to do it alone.”

“Thank you,” she said, relaxing her shoulders a bit. “You’re always there when I need someone to lean on.”

“You need someone like that,” he said with a smile. “Everyone else leans on you, so if I can be that person for you then I will.”

Marinette’s cheeks flushed a little under his loving gaze, and she lifted his hand to her cheek, leaning against it with a smile.

“I love you.”

“I love you too, Marinette.”

***

“You seem more out of it than usual today,” Gabrielle remarked as she refilled Marinette’s mug.

“I’ve got a lot going on,” Marinette admitted, pursing her lips. “I’m kind of kickstarting my fashion career.”

“Is that why you had your nose buried in your sketchbook last week?” Gabrielle quirked a brow and set the pot back on its burner.

“Yeah, I had to come up with a pitch for Audrey Bourgeois by the end of the month,” she said, stirring in her cream and sugar. “And she loved it.”

“You don’t seem enthused.”

“No, I am, but…” Marinette shifted her gaze to her cup. “I’m just nervous.”

“Why?” Gabrielle scoffed, and Marinette looked up at her. “The queen of style likes your work. You’re about to strike it big.”

“I don’t really care about all of that.” Gabrielle rolled her eyes, but she continued, “I themed my line to help a friend, and I just really hope she likes it.”

“You’re a strange girl, Marinette,” Gabrielle said, shaking her head in disbelief. “You’re more concerned with whether or not your friend likes your work than the woman who runs the industry? We really are two different people.”

“You’re a lot different than you use to be,” Marinette pointed out, leaning against her fist.

“Don’t take all the credit. I’ve had a humbling last few months,” she said, averting her gaze, though she couldn’t hide the flush to her cheeks. “I never said it was a bad thing. It’s kind of cool. Whatever.”

Marinette watched in amusement as Gabrielle brewed a fresh pot of coffee.

“Can I ask you for a favor?” Marinette said after a while, and Gabrielle folded the rag she was wiping the counter with neatly.

“Does it require me to be nice?” Gabrielle sighed, crossing her arms over her chest.

“Will you be one of my models?” Gabrielle seemed shocked, perfectly plucked brows raising and glossy jaw dropping.

“You want me to be in your show?” She asked, blinking.

“Yeah, you’re tall and pretty, and you’re my friend,” Marinette said with a smile, and Gabrielle’s cheeks darkened.

“I- um, sure, I guess,” she stammered before clearing her throat.

“Thank you! Thank you!” Marinette bounced excitedly, and Gabrielle eyed her for a long moment before shaking her head again.

Marinette really was strange, but Gabrielle had to admit, she liked it. She’d never say it out loud, but she was glad they were friends, and she wouldn’t trade their friendship for anything in the world.

When Marinette’s phone buzzed, she checked her message, eyebrows furrowing.

“Weird,” she said, blinking in disbelief. “Chloe’s inviting me to have a sleepover tomorrow.”

“Don’t you two hate each other?” Gabrielle asked, rinsing a dirty mug.

“Well, we used to, but I dunno. Since we’ve started all of this with Lila…I don’t really know anymore.” Marinette shook her head.

“Her mom is sponsoring your brand, so maybe she’s just being cordial.” Gabrielle shrugged as if it were no big deal, but Marinette knew Chloe better.

“Maybe,” she said before gulping down the rest of her coffee. “Well, I’ve got to go meet with Macy. I’ll text you to figure out a time to meet with the tailors to take your measurements, okay?”

“Okay,” Gabrielle said, eyes narrowing a little bit as Marinette stuffed her textbook back into her backpack and zipped it up.

“See you later,” Marinette said with a wave. “Oh, and Gabrielle…thanks for letting me talk through everything.”

Gabrielle pursed her lips to hide a smile and nodded.

“You’re welcome,” she said, and Marinette slung her backpack over her shoulders. “Hey, Marinette?”

“Yeah?” She paused at the door, and Gabrielle let out a breath, running a hand through her hair.

“I’m…happy you and I are friends,” she said, and a smile curled on Marinette’s lips.

“Me too.”

***

“I’m here!” Macy called, pushing open the trap door, and Marinette looked up from her sewing machine with a smile.

“Hey, thanks for coming,” Marinette said, jumping up to greet her. They exchanged kisses, and Macy peeked around her at the piece she was working on.

“That’s pretty,” she remarked, trailing her fingers over the fabric.

“Thanks, I’m making my dress to wear to the show,” Marinette said, rubbing the back of her neck. “Speaking of which…I’ve already asked Eliott, Martin, and Lisette, but I was hoping that you would be in my show too.”

“Me?” Macy stiffened. “I dunno. I mean, I’m not exactly a model.”

“Neither is anyone else, well, except Adrien,” Marinette pointed out with a shrug. “I really want all of my friends to be in it because you all inspire me so much.”

Macy seemed to weigh it a moment before nodding.

“Okay, but only because you’re my best friend, and I love you and trust that you’ll make me look awesome,” she said, and Marinette pulled her in for a hug.

“Thank you, Macy! I’ll do my best,” she vowed before pulling away. “Um, can I take your measurements? I need to send them to the tailors right away.”

“Yeah, sure.” Macy shrugged, holding her arms out as Marinette retrieved her tape measure and notepad. “So, what am I going to wear?”

“I…don’t know. The tailors will look at the measurements and decide,” she lied. “Audrey says they’re professionals, so they’ll know what’s best.”

“Makes sense,” Macy said as Marinette scribbled down a number. “Well, if you designed it, it will be amazing. You’re so talented.”

“So are you,” Marinette shot back, wrapping the measuring tape around her waist. “I really liked the song you sang in art the other day. You have a great voice.”

“Yeah…but I’m just afraid it won’t be enough. I don’t look like a popstar, so who cares of I sound like one. Image is everything in this industry,” she sighed.

“Don’t sell yourself short. You’re beautiful,” Marinette assured her, but Macy pursed her lips.

“Thanks, I guess,” she said, and Marinette deflated a little.

“Anyways, I didn’t tell you about my date with Adrien,” Marinette changed the subject, and Macy perked up.

“Oh, details!” She gasped, and Marinette described their evening together for the rest of the time she worked.

Macy’s insecurities weren’t going to mend overnight, and Marinette knew that. It pushed her to work harder on her brand, so that maybe she could change the standard enough so that she could stop believing that she had to look a certain way to have value. So that one day, every Macy Chanteur out there could feel beautiful.

***

Marinette stood awkwardly in the hall outside Chloe’s suite, shifting her gaze around anywhere but at the door in front of her as she waited for it to open. She glanced down at the message on her phone screen for the twenty-sixth time to ensure that she wasn’t losing her mind.

The fact that Chloe had invited her to spend the night was strange enough, and Marinette still couldn’t fathom why she’d actually shown up. When the lock clicked, she flinched, eyebrows raising when Chloe herself pulled it open.

They stared at each other for a moment in silence before Chloe pursed her lips and spoke.

“Hey,” she said.

“Hey,” Marinette replied, and they finally broke eye contact as if some spell had been broken. Marinette peeked up at her again, pointing inside. “Can I come in?”

“Yeah,” Chloe said, though it took her a moment to actually move aside, and even when she did her movements were stiff and robotic.

“Thanks…” Marinette crept in cautiously as if she expected Alec to pop out of a potted plant and tell her she’d been punk’d, but her suite was quiet except for the hum of the city from the open balcony door.

“I had the staff bring up chocolate and ice cream,” Chloe said, turning to Marinette and clasping her hands together. “You like those things, right?”

“Yeah.” Marinette nodded, and Chloe rocked back on her heels a little.

“Good.”

“Yep.”

The tension in the air was so thick, Marinette was certain you could cut it with a knife. Were they friends now? Was this friendly? Was Chloe planning to draw on her face while she slept? Probably.

“What are you waiting for?” Chloe asked as Marinette stood around, holding her overnight bag awkwardly. “Sit down already!”

“Okay.” Marinette moved to the couch, lifting the strap over her head and setting her bag down on the floor.

Chloe sat in the chair across from her, hugging her knees to her chest, and Marinette opened her mouth to speak several times, though words eluded her. What did one say to your former enemy turned friend? If they even were friends. She wasn’t sure any such words existed.

“So,” she finally managed. “Did Adrien force you to do this?”

Chloe rolled her eyes. “No.”

“Oh.”

“I can’t invite you to sleepover?” Her eyes narrowed.

“Well, you never have before.” Marinette shrugged. “Did you want to talk, or- Are we friends now?”

“Gross, no.”

“Alright.” Marinette held up defensive hands, and Chloe shifted to cross her legs, folding her arms over her chest.

“You don’t trust me,” she accused.

“Should I?” Marinette gave her a look, and Chloe tapped her fingers.

“Good point,” she conceded, sitting back with a sigh. “I don’t have any mean tricks planned tonight. You can relax.”

Marinette eyed her a moment with pursed lips before gradually sinking back into the couch, though her hesitance only irked Chloe more.

“I just wanted to do something nice for you, jeez,” Chloe huffed, cheeks pink. “You and Adrien are always lecturing me about being nice, and now that I’m being nice you’re acting all suspicious.”

“Can you blame me?” Marinette quirked a brow, and Chloe puffed out her cheeks.

“No,” she said finally, letting out a breath and standing up. “Come on, I arranged a mani-pedi for us to take care of your awful nails.”

“O-kay.” Marinette blinked before following after her.

Chloe was strangely quiet as the staff worked, her eyes fixed on some point across the room as her mind raced, and Marinette sat beside her, refusing to break the silence and make this situation any weirder. She didn’t quite know what to make of all this. Teaming up to take Lila down was one thing, but handing Marinette fame and asking to have a sleepover? It all seemed too friendly for Chloe, and Marinette couldn’t for the life of her understand it.

What was going on in Chloe’s mind? Was she really changing for the better? Doubtful. Had they bonded over their mutual disdain for Lila? Possible. Was this Chloe’s way of apologizing?

Marinette shot her a glance, but she wore that same distant expression. An apology for what, she wondered? Being mean all those years? She shifted her gaze ahead again, sifting the thought from her mind. It couldn’t be.

“So,” she started, and Chloe groaned beside her.

“Stop with all the sos, it’s getting on my nerves,” Chloe said, slumping a little. “Can’t you just accept that I’m doing something nice for you?”

“I can accept it,” Marinette said, pursing her lips, “but that doesn’t mean I understand it.”

“What’s to understand?”

“Well, for starters you hate me,” Marinette pointed out. “Now you expect me to believe that you’re doing something nice out of the goodness of your heart? After all this time of tormenting me?”

Chloe remained quiet for several beats before shifting to face her.

“Look, I’m…sorry for what I did to you, okay?” She said with a grimace, and Marinette sat back in shock before her eyes narrowed.

“Even for the time you put gum in my hair?”

“Yes.”

“And the time you tied my shoe laces together in gym?”

“Yes.”

“Or when you spilled cranberry juice on my lap and claimed that it was my-”

“Okay, I think we can agree I did a lot of mean things to you when we were kids!” Chloe snapped, crossing her arms over her chest.

“You did all of those things to me earlier this year, Chloe,” Marinette said pointedly.

“Yeah, well, I didn’t think you were gonna leave,” Chloe shot back, whipping around to face her, and when Marinette’s eyebrows raised, she sat back again. “I didn’t know, okay?”

“Didn’t know what?” Marinette asked, and Chloe averted her gaze.

“About Lila,” she said, curling her shoulders. “I didn’t know how horrible she was to you.”

“Why does that matter?” Marinette quirked a brow.

“Because,” Chloe huffed. “Because if I had known I would have destroyed her sooner.”

“Why do that for me?” Marinette’s eyebrows furrowed, and Chloe leaned her head back and shrugged.

“Because then you could have stayed,” she said, flicking her gaze back to Marinette who wore a confused frown.

“I thought you would have been happy to have me gone,” Marinette said, tilting her head to the side, and Chloe pursed her lips.

“You were really annoying,” she said, and Marinette suppressed an eye roll, “but I dunno, I liked when we argued. It was irritating, but fun.”

“It was not fun for me,” Marinette interjected, and Chloe sighed. “Just pointing that out.”

“I know I wasn’t always the best to you…”

“Yeah, you were pretty terrible.” Marinette nodded in agreement.

“But over this past year, it’s been different.” She shrugged. “You got a lot more confident, and you started making all of these changes and helping people and making them happy. Now that you’re gone everyone is miserable, and it’s no fun picking on people when they’re already miserable.”

“Chloe,” Marinette said, blinking as if she couldn’t believe what she was about to say. “Do you miss me?”

“What? No! Of course I don’t!” She scoffed, though her cheeks betrayed her as they darkened three shades. “I miss being able to crush people’s joy. I can’t do that if they don’t have any.”

“You miss me.” Marinette smirked.

“No, I don’t!”

“Come here.” Marinette held her arms out, leaning in for a hug, and Chloe shied away from her advances, nose wrinkling in disgust.

“No!” She swatted lightly at Marinette as she pulled her in then awkwardly patting her until it was acceptable to push away. “Don’t ever tell anyone about this.”

“I’m totally gonna tell people about this,” Marinette said with a nod, and Chloe slapped a palm to her face with a groan.

“You are so annoying,” she said, tossing a cotton ball at Marinette who dodged it with a laugh, a smile breaking out over her own lips.

It was the first time she’d heard Chloe laugh. Genuinely laugh. Not laugh at the pain she inflicted, but laugh because she was happy. She didn’t understand it, but maybe she didn’t have to. Chloe lead a complicated life, and she too lived in a world much different from Marinette’s own. Just like Gabrielle, she was raised with much different ideals, but underneath it all was a young girl who craved affection, not attention. As much as she tried to deny it, Chloe Bourgeois was lonely, and that loneliness made her afraid to connect with others, so she reverted to the only way she knew how to get what she wanted: being mean.

Perhaps Gabrielle wasn’t the only one she could make amends with. Maybe it was time to lay down their weapons and start rebuilding. Theirs was a war that had gone on long enough, and as they watched movies and talked and laughed, Marinette felt their walls coming down brick-by-brick until she found a completely different Chloe hiding just on the other side.

“Chloe, can I ask you something?” She started later as they laid on her bed, Marinette with her sketchbook, Chloe on her phone, and the latter girl quirked a brow without glancing up from her screen. “Why did you ask your mom to work with me?”

“To get rid of Lila,” Chloe answered as if it were obvious.

“But really though.” Marinette set her pen down. “There were a ton of ways that you could have taken Lila down this whole time. Why didn’t you take any of them? Why wait around for me?”

“I dunno,” Chloe said, shrugging her shoulders and turning off her screen. “I just decided to.”

“You did it to help me, didn’t you?” Marinette said, and Chloe bit her lip.

“I did it because I felt sorry for Adrien. You’re so poor, and if you’re going to date him, you have to have a little money,” she said, but when Marinette gave her a look, she rolled her eyes and sighed. “And I felt bad about what happened. You gave everything to your friends, and then they all turned on you the moment something shinier and more interesting came along. You were just a dingy, dirty rock that got tossed aside, so I thought that maybe the best revenge would be to polish you up so that everyone can see that they threw away a diamond for a piece of fake gold.”

When Marinette remained speechless, she continued.

“You didn’t deserve what they did to you,” she said, lowering her gaze. “Not after everything you did for them, and I didn’t realize until you were gone how much of an impact you’ve had on me. I mean, you got my mom to stay in Paris with me, and honestly if it wasn’t for you, I never would have become Queen Bee.”

Marinette’s eyebrows raised at that, and she shifted a little.

“Wha- I don’t- I didn’t have anything to do with-” She stammered, and Chloe laid down on her back with a groan.

“Okay, this is super embarrassing, so I’m really not kidding when I say don’t tell anyone,” she said, rubbing her temple. “But like, the reason I do good things and actually even want to be a hero and help people is because I see you do it all the time. When I’m Queen Bee, I just think about what you would do because when I think about being a hero, I think about Ladybug, obviously, but then I also think about you…”

Marinette blinked in shock before a smile curled on her lips, and she shifted to lay beside Chloe, staring up at the ceiling with her.

“Thanks,” she said after a while, and Chloe pursed her lips.

“You’re welcome, I guess.” She shrugged, tapping her fingers on her stomach. “Thank you. For putting up with me. If I were you, I wouldn’t be here right now, but when you accepted my invitation, I was really happy.”

“Yeah?” Marinette turned her head a little, and Chloe tapped her feet together and bit her lip.

“Yeah,” she said, turning to look at her. “I know it doesn’t make up for everything in the past, but I really am sorry.”

“You have changed,” Marinette chuckled with a smirk, and Chloe covered her face to muffle her own giggle. “You know, we could have been friends a long time ago.”

“Yeah,” Chloe sighed, shifting to stare back up at her chandelier. “I know.”

“It’s not too late,” Marinette offered, and Chloe’s eyebrows creased.

“For what?”

“To be friends,” she said, and Chloe’s eyes widened a little before she sat up.

“I’m tired. Let’s go to bed,” she insisted, and Marinette sat up too with a smirk.

“Chloe?”

“I need at least ten hours of beauty rest to maintain my complexion.”

“Chloe.”

“If I miss even a minute, I will break out. I swear to you, Dupain-Cheng, I will.”

“Chloe.”

“Good night.” Chloe crawled under her covers, laying down against her pillow and clicking off the light, leaving Marinette sitting in darkness, but that didn’t stop her from leaning down into Chloe’s ear.

“Will you be my friend?” She asked, and Chloe stared at the wall for a long moment before sinking down into her sheets further.

“Okay,” she mumbled, and Marinette leaned down.

“What was that?” She cupped a hand to her ear.

“I said, okay,” Chloe said a little louder.

“It’s dark; I can’t hear you. What?” Marinette grinned.

“Ugh, you are so annoying!” Chloe rolled over with a groan. “Okay, I’ll be your friend. Whatever! Can we go to bed now?”

“Yeah, I guess,” Marinette said, tucking her legs under the blankets and sinking down into her pillow. “Oh, and Chloe?”

“What?”

“I’m gonna tell people.”

“Ugh, I hate you,” she groaned, rolling back onto her side with a snort.

“Hate you too,” Marinette said affectionately, and Chloe smiled into her pillow. “Night, Chloe.”

“Good night, Marinette.”

**4 months later**

“Nervous?”

Marinette blinked up at Eliott’s quirked brow as they waited for the elevator to ascend and nodded.

“I’ve been by a few times with Audrey to assess the progress over the last few months, but everything is finished now,” she said. “The whole line, and now I just hope everything turned out okay.”

“I’m sure they’re all great,” Martin assured her.

“Hey, where’s Adrien? Isn’t he modeling too?” Lisette asked, glancing around, and Marinette thought back to her specific instructions to him to deliver Macy’s dress ahead of time.

“Uh, he’s already here I think,” she said as the elevator dinged and opened on their floor.

“Ah, here they are,” Audrey said, approaching as they stepped off the elevator, Adrien in tow.

Marinette cocked a brow at him as Audrey stooped to kiss her cheeks, and he shot her a wink.

“Your line turned out fabulous, darling; I am living for your designs,” she said, draping an arm over her shoulders and leading them to the display. “I was getting rather bored with the same old pitches. You are certainly a breath of fresh air, Marinette.”

“Thank you so much, Mrs. Bourgeois.” Marinette tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear with a smile.

“Please, you are a designer now, darling, call me Audrey,” she insisted holding out her arms to present the mannequins. “Viola.”

Marinette felt her stomach flip the moment she laid eyes on the first design – Adrien’s colorful tux, and a hand flew to her mouth, eyes burning. She’d known this moment was coming, but she still wasn’t prepared for it. Seeing her designs come to life in person was an indescribable feeling, and each one was absolutely perfect.

“Marinette, they’re beautiful,” Macy gasped as her friends paced around to admire each one, but Marinette remained rooted in place.

“You okay, M?” Eliott asked, glancing up from a light blue dress, and Adrien rushed to her side.

“Yeah, it’s just…” She wiped at her eyes. “Seeing them all…and they’re all exactly how I imagined and…”

Adrien wrapped an arm around her as she covered her face with a breathy laugh.

“I really love them,” she sniffled, and her friends all smiled.

“Well, let’s hurry up; the show is next week, and we need to sort out last minute alterations.” Audrey clapped, and Marinette took a deep, composing breath as everyone moved to begin the fitting, though Adrien remained by her side.

“I’m so proud of you,” he whispered, brushing her cheek with his thumb.

“Thank you,” she breathed, stepping into his arms.

“Adrien!” Audrey called, and he stepped back, planting a quick kiss on her lips before retreating to his changing stall.

“Um,” Macy piped up behind her, shifting awkwardly. “Which one am I wearing?”

Marinette turned to her with a smile, taking her hand and pulling her along.

“Come on, I’ll help you,” she said, leading Macy to a booth.

She closed the curtain on her then paced over to the rack to retrieve her masterpiece, and her heart raced as she trailed her fingers over the soft white fabric. The crowning jewel of her collection, the piece that would close out the show, the dress specially made with her own hands for one specific person. The dress she’d made for Macy.

A smile broke over her lips as she lifted it from the rack and carried it over to the booth where Macy waited and hooked it on the hanger inside.

The others emerged from their booths, walking out onto their platforms where tailors waited to make adjustments, Eliott in a colorful, casual outfit, Adrien in a tux, Lisette in a polka-dotted blouse and skirt, Martin in a breathable sweater. All of her friends wearing her designs, and in that moment, she’d never been prouder.

“I’m digging the fabric you used,” Eliott remarked, feeling his shirt as his tailor adjusted his shorts.

“And the pockets,” Lisette added, shoving her hands in them for emphasis.

“I’m glad you like them,” Marinette laughed as the elevator dinged again, and Gabrielle stepped off.

She glanced around at the others who visibly bristled when she entered, but Marinette rushed over to meet her.

“You made it. Awesome!” She greeted, and Gabrielle ripped her gaze from Eliott’s glare.

“Yeah. I’m not late, am I?” She asked, and Marinette shook her head.

“Not at all. Odette can help you over there,” Marinette pointed, and Gabrielle followed her finger, flicking her gaze back to the others briefly before lifting the strap of her bag over her head and sauntering over.

“Cool. Thanks,” she said, and Marinette beamed as she went.

“What is she doing here?” Eliott hissed when Marinette returned.

“I invited her.”

“Why?” Lisette asked.

“Because…she and I are friends.” When they gave her puzzled looks, she added, “It’s kind of a long story.”

“I think it’s good,” Martin spoke up from Eliott’s other side, and everyone’s heads whipped around to face him.

“Good? She tormented you the most,” Eliott said pointedly.

“Well, yeah, but she’s been through a lot lately.” Martin shrugged. “And I mean, look at how much we’ve changed since we met Marinette. If anyone can help Gabrielle, it’s her.”

Eliott and Lisette pursed their lips, conceding his point, and Marinette shot Martin a grateful look before Macy’s curtain opened, and she stepped out timidly.

“Over here!” Marinette pointed to the platform, and Macy paced over reluctantly.

“Are you sure this is right?” Macy asked, curling her shoulders and running her hands over the plain white fabric. “Everyone else is so colorful, but my dress is just plain. I’m going to stick out.”

“Do you trust me?” Marinette quirked a brow, placing her hands on Macy’s shoulders, and she sighed before nodding. “You’re going to stick out, but not for the reason you think. You’ll see. It’ll be a good thing.”

“Okay, if you’re sure,” Macy said as Marinette got to work, but the dress needed little altering and fit Macy like a glove. “It’s pretty. I just don’t think it matches the rest of the collection.”

“It’s a surprise. You’ll see. I promise,” Marinette vowed, and Macy searched her expression before pursing her lips and relenting. “You’re all done. It fits you perfectly, just as I knew it would.”

“Marinette, can you come over here for a second?” Audrey called her over.

“Coming!”

Macy looked back into the mirror when Marinette left, examining her figure in the dress. It did hug her curves and accentuate several things she liked about herself, but she just didn’t feel like she should be modeling it. It would probably look better on someone else, but she would wear it as a favor to Marinette.

“You look really pretty,” Martin spoke up from behind her, and Macy turn over her shoulder, cheeks flushing.

“Thank you,” she said, lowering her gaze down to the dress again. “Marinette designed it, so of course, it’s amazing.”

“I wasn’t talking about the dress.” He shook his head, and she stiffened, cupping her cheeks in her hands as he stepped up behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist, resting his chin on her shoulder. He pecked her cheek gently before smiling at her in the mirror. “I’m always here for you if you need me, okay?”

“I know,” she said, turning to wrap her arms around his shoulders. “Thank you.”

“What’s wrong?” Marinette asked as she made it across the room.

“Adrien mentioned that he needed help with a piece of his suit, can you go check on it?” Audrey waved her toward the changing stalls, and Marinette approached curiously.

“Adrien?” She called outside his curtain, and a hand shot out, grabbing onto her wrist and pulling her in. “Whoa, hey-”

“Shh!” He pressed a finger to her lips, a wicked grin on his lips.

“There’s something wrong with your tux?” Her eyebrows knitted together, and he placed his hands on either side of her.

“Nah, it’s perfect. I just wanted you to come over here,” he chuckled, and her face scrunched into a playfully scolding scowl.

“You pulled me away from my work just to make out in a changing room?” She pinched his sides.

“Who said anything about making out?” He quirked a smug brow, and her cheeks darkened three shades.

“I- Well- You- I didn’t- I just-” Adrien snickered, leaning his forehead against hers with an impish grin. “You’re a tease.”

“But I always deliver,” he said against her lips before pulling her in.

She’d kill him. Later. Right now, all she could think about was the taste of his breath and his hands in her hair. Even after 4 months of dating, Adrien still took her breath away.

“Marinette?” Someone called from outside, and she leaned her head back, forcing their lips apart. Undeterred, Adrien began kissing along her jaw.

“You can’t keep me in here forever,” she sighed as he trailed down her neck to her collar bone, and he let out a soft whine in response.

Footsteps approached, and when the curtain shot open, they jumped apart, Marinette instantly beginning to fiddle with his coat.

“Um, okay, button’s all fixed,” she said, and Eliott crossed his arms over his chest with a smirk. “I was just- he had a loose button, so I was fixing it.”

“Mmhmm,” Eliott hummed. “With your mouth?”

“What- We weren’t- No. I was just- Coming, Audrey!” She lowered her head and pushed past him, and Eliott leaned against the stall with a smug grin.

“I-” Adrien started, cheeks red, but Eliott held up a hand.

“I’m not judging you.” He shrugged, and Adrien touched his lips with a smile.

Despite this, neither of them could really look him in the eye for the rest of the night, and no one else knew why their cheeks were always the tiniest bit flush.

***

“My, my I don’t think I’ve ever seen you so happy, LB,” Chat remarked as his staff lowered him onto the roof where she sat looking out over the city. “What’s got you in such a good mood?”

“Are you gonna get jealous if I tell you?” She asked with a smirk as he sat beside her.

“I will do my best to contain my envy,” he said, crossing one leg over the other and leaning against his fist with an encouraging grin, and Ladybug bit her lip.

“The boy that I like…he and I are together now,” she said, cupping her cheek in one hand as a rosy tint came over them. “We have been for a few months.”

“Oh?” Chat cocked a brow, leaning back on his hands. “Good for you, Bug.”

“You’re not jealous?” She shot him a look, and he shrugged his shoulders.

“I got over you,” he said, shifting his gaze out over the city. “I’m seeing someone too, and she’s…everything.”

“I’m happy for you, Chat,” Ladybug said sincerely, and he flicked his gaze back to hers, a smile curling over his lips.

“Tell me about your guy,” he requested, nudging her with his elbow, and Ladybug leaned against her fist with a dreamy sigh.

“He’s so incredible. He’s nice; he’s smart; he’s handsome, very athletic, but also so down-to-earth and gentle. He always has my back, and I really love him,” she said, smiling down at her lap, and Chat let out a short laugh.

“Well, if he ever breaks your heart, just say the word, and I’ll rough him up for you.” He winked, and she shoved him playfully.

“What about your unlucky girl?” She asked, and he cupped a hand over his heart.

“Okay, first of all, ouch,” he said, and she raised a hand to her mouth to stifle a giggle. “Second of all, fair. I feel lucky that she even likes me. She’s crazy talented; it’s insane how amazing she is, and she really cares about people. No matter what, she always wants to help, and she’s funny, and she has the cutest laugh. When I’m with her, it’s like nothing else matters but right then and there. Just the two of us together, and I wouldn’t give her up for the world.”

He let out a breath, biting his lip before casting her a smug grin.

“Oh, and she thinks my jokes are funny,” he gloated as if it were the cherry on top, and Ladybug pursed her lips to hide her smile.

“Well, then you’re just gonna have to marry her because I don’t think you’re going to find someone who can put up with all of your puns again,” she said, shrugging her shoulders, and Chat let out a sigh.

“Yeah, she really is the perfect girl for me,” he agreed, and they exchanged smirks before bursting into a fit of giggles, their laughter echoing across the roof.

Eventually, they found themselves lying head-to-head on their backs, staring up at the stars glittering faintly against the lights. Ladybug let out a deep breath, turning her head a little to glance at Chat.

“I really am happy for you, chaton,” she murmured, and he turned over, leaning against his arm with a tender expression.

“I’m happy for you too. I know I gave you a hard time for a while, and I’m really sorry if you ever felt like I was pushing you. It was hard to accept, but you and I just aren’t meant to be,” he said, pursing his lips, and Ladybug rolled onto her side and reached out a hand to ruffle his hair.

“You are important to me, ya know. I know I can always trust you, and I’m really glad that you’re my partner,” she said, and Chat’s eyes softened.

“Me too, Bug,” he said softly before the gentleness in his eyes morphed into mischief. “So, if we’ve defeated Hawkmoth, do you promise to invite me to your wedding?”

“Um, who else am I gonna get to be my maid of honor?” Ladybug grunted, not bothering to mask the ‘duh’ in her voice.

“Will I get to wear a dress?” He cocked a brow.

“Naturally. I’ll pick out something really tasteful for you,” she affirmed with a nod, before rolling onto her back with a laugh as he pumped an excited fist. “Better practice walking in heels.”

“Hey, I’ve gotten good at it since Reflekta!” He said, and she roared with laughter which Chat soon found contagious.

“Ya know,” she said once they’d calmed, “I feel like for the first time in a long time that everything is gonna be okay. All of this feels a little less daunting, and I know that we’re going to win against Hawkmoth.”

“Yeah,” Chat said, staring up at the sky and picturing a life with Marinette when everything was over. “I feel that too.”

“For the people we love.” Ladybug slid a hand up to his, curling their fingers together, and Chat gave them a squeeze.

“For the people we love.”

***

“Don’t be nervous.”

Adrien placed his hands on her shoulders as she chewed her nails a half hour before the show started. He was already dressed in his tux though his oversized bowtie hung untied around his neck, and Marinette instinctively began to tie it upon turning to face him, unable to keep her hands still.

“What’s to be nervous about? It’s only my whole future on the line,” she remarked, smoothing his coat once she’d finished. “I feel like I’m gonna pass out or throw up or throw up then pass out.”

“You’ll be fine. Everything is running on schedule. Your models are all here. Clara is warmed up for her performance. The press is here. Everyone’s finding their seats including your parents on the front row. Relax,” he soothed, massaging her shoulders.

“Okay. You’re right. Everything is fine. I’m fine. It’s all fine,” she chanted, taking deep breaths before a gasp swelled up her throat. “What if I forget my lines?”

“There’s a prompter at the end of the runway,” Adrien reminded her, kissing her cheek. “I have to go finish makeup, but after my walk I’ll be right beside you, okay?”

“Okay,” she said with a hint of hysteria.

“Deep breaths!” He called.

“I’ll try.” She winced, and he gave her a thumbs up before retreating back to his makeup chair. “Okay, Marinette. Everything is fine. You’re fine. Deep breaths. You got this. No worries.”

“Ya know, I never noticed how much you talk to yourself.” She jumped at Chloe’s voice behind her, spinning around to see her in a rose gold gown.

“Nervous habit,” Marinette admitted, looking her up and down with a smile. “You’re wearing my dress.”

“Yeah, my mom asked me to be in your show,” she said, fluffing the skirt.

“Did she?” Marinette cocked a brow, and Chloe’s cheeks flushed.

“She asked me if I wanted to be in the show…after I asked her if I could be,” she said, rolling her eyes. “Whatever. Same thing.”

“I thought you wouldn’t be caught dead wearing one of my hideous designs.” Marinette cocked a hip, and Chloe leaned her head back with a groan.

“Ugh, you’re so-”

“You look beautiful,” Marinette cut her off with a sincere smile. “Thank you, Chloe.”

Chloe stiffened as Marinette stepped forward and pulled her in for a hug, and after a moment, she relaxed into her embrace, a small smile curling on her lips.

“Five-minutes!”

“Adrien is right, you know,” Chloe murmured in her ear. “You don’t have anything to worry about. You always find a way to shine no matter gets thrown at you. You really are a diamond, and everyone is about to see how brightly you can shine.”

Marinette blinked in surprise as Chloe pulled away and headed to her position in the lineup as everyone scrambled to make last minute adjustments to hair and makeup. Seeing all of her friends there to support her gave her the boost of courage that she needed, and she knew that no matter what happened, they would always be there for her.

Clara took her position on the stage as the music started, and Marinette moved to the monitor to watch as she started to sing. She held her breath as Adrien made his way down the runway, camera bulbs flashing as he struck a pose at the end, and at the sound of their applause, she breathed a sigh of relief. Lisette started as he turned back, high fiving him as they passed each other, and her first message flashed on the screens.

Beauty is not a height.

“Hey.” Adrien held his arms out as soon as he made it back stage, pressing a quick kiss to her temple. “So far so good. They’re still clapping.”

“That’s good,” she conceded with a nod as Chloe made her way out next, eating up the attention from the crowd.

Beauty is not wealth.

“Marinette, we have a problem!” Eliott rushed up to her.

“What? What’s wrong?” Her eyebrows furrowed as Martin clambered up beside him.

“Macy’s saying she doesn’t want to walk,” Martin said, and Marinette took off, Adrien hot on her heels.

“Macy?” Marinette called, turning the corner to find her friend sitting in her makeup chair with a dejected expression. “Macy…”

“I’m sorry, Marinette. I really wanted to support you, but I just can’t do this.” She shook her head, and Marinette set her clipboard down on the vanity then cupped her face in her hands. “This dress is beautiful, but it’s so different from all of the other pieces. It’s just not for me.”

“It’s exactly for you,” Marinette corrected, and Macy looked up at her through her lashes. “I never told you because I wanted it to be a surprise so that it could have the biggest impact on you, but, Macy, I designed this dress specifically for you.”

“What?” Her eyebrows knitted together.

“You were the muse that inspired me to create this whole line, Macy, and I made your dress the foundation of my collection. It’s my best piece, and that’s why I’ve saved it for last,” Marinette said, lifting her chin.

“But it’s so plain…” Macy glanced back down at it, running her hands over the fabric.

“But that’s where you’re wrong.” Marinette smiled, placing a hand on her shoulder. “This dress is unique, like you, and soon everyone will see it’s how beautiful you both are.”

Macy pursed her lips, and Marinette gave her shoulder a reassuring squeeze.

“Trust me,” she pleaded, and Macy glanced at the dwindling line of models. Eliott stood at the front of the line waiting to go next, and he shot Macy a worried look.

“Okay…” She allowed Marinette to help her up and lead her by the hand to the back of the line.

Beauty is not a gender identity. Beauty is not an age. Beauty is not a hair color. Beauty is not one person.

Macy eyed the curtain of mist at the entrance to the runway, stomach flipping with dread as she crept out, releasing Marinette’s hand only at the last moment. Her hands shook as she made her way to the first mark, all eyes trained on her curious white dress, but soon those faces turned with shock, jaws dropping, eyes widening, and Macy felt her spine stiffen as chatter started.

Backstage, Marinette watched the monitors with the rest of the crew with bated breath. Everyone seemed as uneasy as Macy, but after several moments the dress began to bleed.

“Whoa, what?” Eliott gasped as colorful swirls manifested in the fabric, blues and pinks and purples fading into the white, and Marinette covered her mouth to muffle her squeal of delight.

In an instant camera bulbs began to flash like wild and the crowd cheered her on. Confused, Macy spared a quick glance down at her dress now bleeding with color and felt her heart jolt. Everyone’s faces were elated and thunderous applause roared as she made her way further up the runway, gaining confidence with each step. Behind her on the screen flashed a simple phrase that carried the weight of Marinette’s message, only three small words:

Beauty is you.

“How did you-”

“I used dye on the thread,” Marinette explained, clasping her hands together on her chest.

“And the mist activated it,” Eliott said, a grin curling on his lips before everyone backstage joined in the applause.

Clara’s song ended as Macy reached the end of the runway, striking a powerful pose as photographers fought over the perfect angle, and Marinette stepped onto the stage, waving to the audience as she floated down to meet Macy at the end. Macy shot her a bright smile, eyes watering with tears as the two embraced, and Marinette took her position.

“When I created my brand, I asked myself one question: What message do you want to send to the world?” She started as everyone quieted down. “For many years, this industry has been led by the thinnest, most attractive models, narrowing the definition of what is beautiful to exclude many ordinary people. People like you and me.” She paused to glance at Macy briefly before continuing. “I want to redefine what it means to be beautiful because it’s all around us in every person that we meet. We just have to give them an opportunity to let their true colors shine.”

At that everyone began to applaud, and Marinette lowered the microphone with an elated giggle.

“Beauty is in all of us, and you are beautiful,” she finished, and the audience rose to their feet, their cheers and applause filling the auditorium as Marinette held her head high.

She glanced back to see her friends cheering her on from behind the curtains, her smile widening as she locked eyes with her parents beaming proudly in the crowd. This was it. Her shining moment. Her glowing statement. Her brilliant sparkle, and she was radiant.

***

“Oh my gosh, did you guys see Marinette’s show?” Rose gasped over video call, and Lila masked her displeasure with a smile.

“Uh, yeah, it was amazing,” Lila said though her tone implied that she thought anything but.

“Her message was so beautiful! I teared up,” Mylene added, cupping her cheek in one hand.

“Yeah, her designs were super rad,” Alix added, and Lila grinned through her annoyance.

“Yeah, I loved them. She’s super talented.” She smiled, and Alya glanced back at the muted television where Marinette was waving for the press and let out a breath.

“Good for you, girl,” she said softly as the rest of the girls gushed to a faltering Lila, and she hugged her pillow to her chest a little tighter as that empty feeling returned. “Good for you.”

#miraculous ladybug #mdcsp original #ml salt #marinette dupain-cheng #adrinette #mdcsp #my writing

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lizstaysinneverland · 5 years

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FFXV Popband!AU Headcanons

I actually had started a fanfic of this started a few years ago when FFXV first came out but I know I’ll never finish it, so I thought why not make it into a headcanon post. I originally went with a boyband but I kinda didn’t think anyone of the boys would be a drummer. Also, please see the end notes for more information.

This is a bit long so I put it under “read more”.

Prompto is the lead singer of the band. He has the sweet flower boy image. Is the one with the most stage fright but once the music turns on, he just forgets about him being on stage and gets really into it. He is super shy when meeting his fans but they love him even more for that. He gets scolded by Luna and Ardyn a lot because he tends to reveal too much in interviews but he can’t help it, he just gets so excited and wants to share what they are working on and how they live and so forth.

Noctis is the backup singer and guitarist. He has the brooding pretty boy image. But he is actually just as nervous (but hides it way better than Prompto) when he meets his fans and is super sweet and kind to them. He lets the others do the talking in interviews, Luna is trying to motivate him to become more proactive but to no avail. He actually trains a lot by himself and puts a lot of effort into every performance. Sometimes clashes with Gladiolus due to Noctis sometimes rather childish attitude and laziness.

Ignis is the keyboardist and songwriter. He has the cold prince image. He also functions as the intermediator whenever Luna isn’t there to stop the fights. He always knows what to say to the fans and is super happy for the love they receive by their fans, that’s why fan meetings are one of his favourite things about this job. He is usually the one calming the others down in interviews when they get too excited and he always has a perfect answer to everything. Despite his usual stoic and sometimes rather calculating demeanor, his songs are full of emotion, he can express his feelings the best in his writings.

Gladiolus is the bassist. He has the bad boy image. His temperament gets him in trouble with paparazzi's sometimes, much to Gentiana’s annoyance. He’s very flirty with his fangirls but treats them with respect, so even if the magazine call him a “fuckboy” his fans don’t cease to fangirl over him and melt whenever he smiles at them. He is quite smart and knows how to talk his way out of uncomfortable interview questions. He usually practices with the whole band, practicing alone makes him bored after a short time and he feels he improves faster when he hears himself out of tune with the other members.

Cindy is the drummer. She initially wasn’t part of the band when they were still a garage band, but their drummer left after a feud. They were on the verge of signing the contract with the Izunia Music Group record label, so they needed a drummer. Cindy has been a childhood friend of Prompto and Noctis so they kinda roped her into it last minute. But she actually enjoys it and it allows her to spend a lot of money on cars, so whenever she doesn’t practice with the band she is fixing old cars and pimps them up into really cool cars or helps out her grandad at his car repair shop. She has a very big fanbase despite “just” being the drummer. She’s the one who is mostly active on social media.

Iris is the stylist of the band. She is always super hyper and gushing about how great they look with her clothing choices. She also hypes the members up before the big show, to help them feel confident on stage. She always manages to find the perfect clothing for any kind of event, be it the Music Awards or some themed event. They never look bad. Iris also introduces the members to all the memes and newest inside jokes in the band fandom. As she is the sister of Gladiolus, she tags along to the events and such as well and makes sure they look good all night.

Lunafreya is the manager. Despite her quite young age she is one of the best. She helps the band members relax before any major performance and makes sure they are always hydrated and giving their best. She tries to fulfill the wishes of the members, but in turn she expects a lot from them. She might usually be gentle but if anyone of the band pisses her off because they think it’s okay to be lazy or don’t reflect on their behavior or break the rules, she will scold them quite harshly. She has an exceptional organizational talent and that shows in how she schedules everything and makes things work despite all odds.

Ardyn is the CEO of the Izunia Music Group. While the band members won’t see him often, if he does come by to check on things, absolutely everyone is on edge because you don’t piss off THE Ardyn Izunia and you certainly don’t make mistakes. He loves his little charm aka Lunafreya for her hardworking nature and finding the band and making them into popstars. He lets her do most of the management but if she can’t handle something (there can be quite some annoying and snobbish business partners) he will handle it and she can be sure everything will work. He makes the impossible possible. He is the creepy dude that you don’t expect to be rich because of his poor fashion taste but is somehow really charming and attracts a lot of people.

Ravus is the director for the music videos and he is such a perfectionist to the point that he will make them do a scene again because Noctis face should have been turned to the side a teeny tiny bit more, like by 5 degrees. Ravus often tends to bicker with Noctis and Ravus as he feels like they don’t take his commands seriously. Much to Lunafreya’s and Ignis’ annoyance. But you can bet that the music video will turn out incredible well, almost like an art masterpiece. Ravus is quite creative and that shows in all his work.

Gentiana is the head of the marketing department at Izunia Music Group and works a lot with Lunafreya to make sure she promotes the bands correctly. Sometimes she even stops by when Noctis & others are in the middle of a photoshoot or music video shoot just to see how she can implement things into their marketing campaign. She never actually tells them how she promotes the band, so they usually are surprised when they suddenly find their face plastered on a bus or see a commercial of them on TV. But they are never disappointed. She knows what she is doing and enjoys gushing to Lunafreya about all her ideas.

Aranea is the photographer. She seemed a bit harsh at first so they dreaded doing photoshoots with her but once they warmed up to her after they did a good job, they realized she’s just a hard worker and wants the models to be amazed by the photos she took. She can easily lose track of time when she is concentrated on taking pictures of her models and seems to have an endless amount of ideas. But she lets the band members run wild with their own imagination as well, so she can get authentic photos of them for special fan events.

End notes:

JFC finally finished it, this has been on my draft for a long time because I always forgot about it or had no time to sit down and write it all.

I know this isn’t as realistic as it could be, but I didn’t want it to be too realistic, to me it was more fun making them be THE music band everyone wants and so some characters might come off as “Mary Sue” like and some jobs might not be exactly the same as in real life. I apologize for that.

I took a bit of inspiration from Korean bands.

I did choose to use Ardyn Izunia instead of Lucis Caelum because I didn’t wanted them to be related in this fanfic as I didn’t plan to make him appear often.

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applekitty · 5 years

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how kitty writes nightmare; brief overview

okay so last post got 8 notes which is surprising so i’ll try to explain how i write nightmare / what i use to write nightmare, which involves explaining main characteristics i’ve gleamed from the anime as well as shoving in my own for personality’s sake.

i’ll be focusing on post-war nightmare here

in terms of backstory

i’ll be brief here since i have a whole fic explaining it, but nightmare did not have exactly the happiest time back in the day. a lot of stuff happened (betrayal, death, etc) due to him killing two demons that the star warriors hailed, making those gods martyrs and him accidentally making himself the fallguy for them. if he goes around hurting things and destroying things, and the star warriors stop him, there’s nothing but clout for those star warriors and their god. if he doesn’t go around hurting and destroying things, he’d get found and killed anyways because the star warriors hate him for literally killing their two demon gods.

nightmare got it into his head that the only way for him to live, or at least live comfortably without fear of being betrayed (as offers of redemption made him paranoid about their ‘true intentions’), was to be a full villain with no friends. every time he’d given the benefit of the doubt he’d get betrayed or the star warriors would find him and kill him because he’d usually end up doing something shitty in the process (like ally with a planet destroyer or kidnap people, etc). people needed a reason to like him because he was evil and wrong, and there was no such thing as unsolicited kindness. at least, not towards someone like him.

at least if he was evil, he could fight back without fear being something that affects him.

main principals

optimism

nightmare’s optimism is very egotistical, as he’s always 100% sure things will work out for him with the risks he takes. he usually gets smacked for his optimism, but his perspective that everything works out daisys for him is completely unfaultering so long as nightmare has his ego about him. even when things eventually get tough for him (post-anime, no company, no cs), he’d still be positive and willing to work at getting all his stuff back. or. well. try to.

nightmare’s main appeal here is his goof factor. he is a goof. he does the stuff because he’s having fun, so when he’s having fun, the reader (supposedly) has fun too.

this is arguably nightmare’s most important trait as a villain, because unfaltering optimism and ego makes him who he is and allows everything else in his personality to function.

..to the point of idiocy

nightmare is an idiot. he is always doing stupid shit purely because he’s an invulnerable moron. when nightmare is happy, he’s stupid, and he is supposed to be kept that way, according to characters like meta knight. removing nightmare’s happiness also means removing his stupidity, and the only thing that keeps nightmare at bay at the moment is his overwhelming lack of braincells.

nightmare can be classified as very childish and almost naive in a sense because he has absolutely no common sense whatsoever. he’ll do things for the sake of doing them, piss off people for the sake of pissing them off, etc

loyalty above all else

due to nightmare’s fear of betrayal, he is ungodly loyal. he refuses to betray people. he wants those who he likes to like him back. those he values, truly, are treated like solid gold to him and he would do anything for them.. other than say he values them. because he’s still evil, he doesn’t say he has friends or people he likes. he’ll call them ‘allys’ or ‘pets’ or ‘assets’. asset is the nicest word he could use and it’s hard to get him to say that. he wants to keep his close allys as close as possible and liking him as much as possible in order to quell betrayal.

when nightmare likes you, for whatever reason, he will do anything for you. well, next to anything.

betrayal aka the only time to feel bad

nightmare’s reaction to explicit betrayal that isn’t immediately rectified or explained is.. well, something. nightmare can’t handle the thought of being betrayed, so his mind sorta shuts down and he goes into autopilot ‘war mode’ wherein he tries to kill his traitor as quickly and painlessly as possible.

post betrayal there’s a grieving process that nightmare uses to spend alone, typically one day long, then afterwards he’s done because his memory will repress the betrayal, the person, and everything. however, he will be more paranoid of betrayal after it’s happened, and be more suspicious of people’s intentions.

enemies are enemies, really

when nightmare knows someone doesn’t like him, and he knows there’s no point in saving the relationship for his reputation, it’s destruction time. these sorts of people are few and far between, because nightmare / his company is able to pacify most protesters or warmongers. but for the few that exist, nightmare knows no mercy. he very much enjoys getting declared war on, because that means he can go out and have fun destroying things again.

boredom

nightmare is extrodinarily lazy. he sleeps a whole bunch and, well, does effectively nothing in his whole company. he just sits around. this has caused him a fair amount of restlessness, which he takes out on employees. he’ll often hatch stupid schemes to entertain himself (as seen in nightmare’s cat) for a while, or he’ll complain that he’s bored. nightmare needs constant stimulation and constant company. lots of nightmare’s dialogue usually is formed around him being bored and wanting something to do. instead of doing something himself, he’ll usually want someone else do to something for him in order to make him not bored. if that does not work, he WILL start a situation and it WILL be bad for everyone involved.

in the case of characters, he complains a lot that cs is boring because he’s so buisness oriented. he never thinks, however, that meta knight is boring despite mk being much more apathetic and flat than cs is. it depends on how he sees a person or a situation.

‘benevolent’ corpocracy

nightmare is still a very evil man, he’s a warlord. however, he feels incredibly constrained by the current society he himself has fostered. he wants to be as evil as possible, but if he’s evil in his own society, his workers will rise up and kill him. people will develop ways to kill him en-masse due to his overarching affect on their lives, and he does not want that. he is constantly conflicted between good pr and being as evil as he wants. a content populous doesn’t rebel, and rebellion now, when he’s at his best, with the threat of everything he worked for doesn’t just up and poof away in smoke

in terms of blatant evil, he does not allow child labor, general crime, or anything that anyone with any common sense would say is unethical business practice.

nightmare’s buisness model is ‘make sure the employees are happy’, but he does like to have a lot of evil stuff happen. he’s got a whole batch of questionable decisions he makes in terms of other planets. he actively destroys economies on other planets to make them fully rely on his company, he’d sabotage entire galaxies and powerful families just to take their things. though he does this with the ‘illusion of choice’ that impoverish people have. it’s either work until you’re dead or die on the street. which will you choose? you can work for nme, the thing run by the evil space wizard which destroyed lots of the galaxy and is ruining your planet specifically to line his pockets, or you could die on the street.

nightmare’s fear of betrayal does not line itself to these people and their planets, as he finds them so insignificant that they aren’t worth the effort to worry about. he gave them jobs, he’s giving them money, he lets them have benefits and unions, so they have nothing to complain about. it’s moreso the people in the company, on the actual ship base, that he is worried about.

this is gleamed from the show, as.. aside from a monster every week which dedede specifically requests, things can be seen as peaceful. even on popstar, which is where nightmare seems to be focusing his attention. granted, we dont see much outside of popstar. that, and cs seems to be pretty happy (yes don’t @ me he fuckin does look happy because in the finale he’s smiling and laughing while not on the job and if there were any place to express discontent it would be there) with his job, and yamikage too considering how he’s working with them, even the otakings seem pretty happy which is awful.

i’ve specifically chosen to characterize nightmare’s reign like this because i find it leagues more interesting than ‘nightmare just squashes all rebellion instantly with his big metal fist’ (which is what he most likely is doing in canon) and it allows nightmare to have some nuance to how he does things

egotism

after the war, nightmare got a gigantic ego that’s mostly hooked to meta knight and how meta knight perceives him. if meta knight legitimately does not think nightmare is threatening or in some capacity scar, nightmare takes it as a personal offense. no one other than meta knight’s opinion on nightmare matters to him. he only wants meta knight’s disapproval and anger towards him. that’s the main thing that matters to his ego. disapproval and anger from others can make him laugh and make him feel better, so long as it doesn’t risk betrayal.

forgetfulness

nightmare has an incredibly bad memory due to the past not affecting him the best. bad things will be seared out of his memory, but at the same time so will good things. he can’t remember much of what went on in the war other than ‘meta knight was there and i want to kill him a lot’, that it happened, and that it was cool and he totally liked it. if he can’t remember something, he does not care that it happened.

the part where i talk about meta knight

i already did lol

main fears

isolation

betrayal

powerlessness

captivity / internment

all of these main fears spark from something that has happened in the past, though nightmare doesn’t remember what. nor does he care. they are things nightmare absolutely positively wants to avoid, and all his actions towards others center around trying to prevent these things.

nightmare is able to quell these fears, usually, by at least having contact with someone. the most debilitating fear of his is isolation, as if he doesn’t have the ability to talk with others who can talk back, he will undergo a steep dive straight into a pit of despair. his desire for company all the time is partially why he decided on a.. well, company. people always working, people always doing things, he can always see people. always busy. always able to talk to him. it’s comforting, the noise and the bustle.

yeah

i cant think of anything else to say as of the current moment

#shitpost #analysis #this is.. i think the basics?

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nexstrik · 5 years

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when i see you, my voice goes (2/6)

Summary: Evelynn and Ahri had been together for as long as anyone could remember. They always thought they never needed anyone else, and then then slowly learn how wrong they were.

Akali is a typical directionless millennial trying to get back on her feet after a nasty breakup left her depressed and downtrodden. Then a group of popstars flip her world upside down.

A/N: Please pretend the rap is good, and also in Korean. Shout out to @reduxroyal for the song title “Foxfire”.

Rating: EXPLICIT.

You can read this story in chronological order on my blog You can also read this story on AO3

Her nose never led her astray.

Akali followed the sharp burn of garlic and boiling stock, a late-night shop that catered to the drunks who came stumbling out after all the bars closed. She inhaled the street food, hot grease burning all the way down until it settled in her stomach like a cozy, lit coal. Then she called a taxi, stumbled into the backseat, and did her best not to pass out before she made it safely home.

The streetlights rushed over her closed eyelids. The scent of a hundred other passengers clung to the cheap leather seats, molding together into the caustic fake pine swinging from the rearview mirror. When Akali opened her eyes again, the taxi had rolled to a stop in front of her family's dojo, and the world blacked out for a second. Reality returned and she was standing in the dark kitchen, peering into the fridge and blinking at the light that poured out of the open door.

Then her uncle spoke. "Where have you been all night?"

Akali nearly blacked out again. A tower of side-dishes in plastic containers, neatly stacked, clattered onto the floor. One hand to her aching head, Akali knelt down and gathered them up and tried to put them away again. "Shit, Uncle Shen. I told you I'd be out late."

When she turned around with a glass of juice in her hand, it was to her uncle's disapproving stare. "Are you okay? You didn't answer my texts."

She nodded as she downed the glass in a few steady gulps, not pausing for air. "Mmmhmm." With a gasp, she finished and dropped the cup into the sink. Then, remembering she was raised right, she rinsed out the cup and put that away, too. "I'm fine. There was bad signal in the club."

"You said you were in a singing competition."

Akali closed her eyes. Oh boy. "It was a rap battle, Uncle Shen. I'm pretty sure I said it was a rap battle."

Akali swayed in place, blinking hard and focusing all her attention on not keeling over. For a moment her uncle seemed like he would just stand there in silence until the sun rose. By her estimation, that would be in about three hours.

Then he hummed. "Did you win?"

Relieved, Akali threw a pair of devil horns and winked. "Hell yeah I did!"

And then half the club bought her drinks, and she accepted a few too many of them. Dumb idea, probably. She was full of those. And piss and vinegar, or so her mom always said, whatever the fuck that meant.

Uncle Shen's lips pursed. She couldn't get a good read on him, as usual, and couldn't tell if he was pleased or if he disapproved. Up until now she ran on the assumption that he supported her. He let her live here rent-free after she escaped that mess she left in Busan, and he, like... well didn't not like approve. Right? Probably. He'd say something if he thought she were wasting her life on this.

Someone would say something.

(Someone did say something.)

The kitchen spun. She managed a weak smile. "I'm gonna go to bed. Sorry for making you stay up so late."

"As long as you're safe," he said, voice growing more distant as she travelled to the far side of the house, to her old bedroom.

When she collapsed onto the bed, Akali stared at the ceiling until the world settled down. Restless now, too drunk to sleep, she rolled over onto her side. A massive sprawl of posters were plastered to the far wall, overlapping. They were like the layers of the earth, her oldest obsessions covered over and replaced and clamoring for space, from the ages of thirteen to nineteen.

She'd moved out and then moved right back in a few years later.

"How long am I gonna have to keep looking at your face?" she wondered at the collection of anime characters and popstars and actresses and swimsuit models. "You're probably tired of me, too."

Covering her face with one hand, she saw nothing but stars. They spun even as she stayed still, drowning in shallow, stagnant pools of darkness.

Thankfully she was able to sleep in the next day. Classes in the dojo didn't start until late afternoon, and she didn't work her other part-time job on Saturdays. Scraping herself from her mattress, Akali took a shower and got ready to assist her uncle with any other chores that needed doing.

He greeted her with few words, as always, and was kind enough to point her to this morning's breakfast still left in the fridge.

"Hey," she said, stirring cold rice around in her bowl and wondering if she should bother microwaving it. "Sorry again for last night."

The summer light streaming in through the open windows did little to lessen the shadows around Shen's face. "Do you think you did something worth apologizing for?"

Cryptic as ever. It was a genuine question, though, she could tell. Akali wasn't sure if that made things better or worse. Shen was her only living relative, and he hadn't been equipped to handle raising a moody, rebellious teen. Still, there was something nostalgic about his cool rationale, the way he never lost his temper even when she felt he had every right to. "I guess I just got a little sloppy. I'm embarrassed."

"Well," Uncle Shen said, "Now you know for next time."

He patted the back of her hand and Akali wolfed down her very late breakfast. That should have been the most eventful thing that happened that day.

But then she got an email.

Akali thought she might still be drunk. Standing in front of her, the three members of a band named "KDA" waited expectantly.

They'd broken down the deal in language she could understand. They told her they saw her music video, the one she recorded with her friends and her girlfriend, back when she still had both of those things.

Most of it went in one ear and right out the other. The whole time, Akali stared at Ahri as if she might vanish the next time she blinked.

It's her. It's her. It's her.

There was enough adrenaline in her system to make her heart explode. Every inch of her wanted to leap this opportunity.

She wants me. Foxy wants me to be their rapper.

But instead she wet her lips, mouth suddenly dry.

"I don't know if I can join you."

The reactions were mixed. Kai'sa visibly deflated, her shoulders dropping. Evelynn was unsurprised, her arms crossed and her expression blank.

"At least not yet," Akali clarified. "This is...a lot."

Ahri smiled sweetly, in a way that suggested she'd expected this as well.

"Of course. I'll be sending over a proper contract later tonight. Take your time reading it over," Ahri said, encouraging. She kept her hands over Akali's. The contact made her skin feel sticky, sweaty palms, hot summer air making the dojo stifling. "If you want a lawyer to go over it, too, that's totally fine."

A lawyer? Shit, she was just gonna take this to Uncle Shen and ask him what he thought. "Okay. Yeah, that's a good idea."

They said their goodbyes, apologizing for their unannounced arrival. Evelynn and Kai'sa left first, waving as they did. But Ahri lingered at the doorway, half-turned towards Akali as though something pulled her towards the other woman. Whatever that connection was, Ahri quickly severed it and then swept outside, her tightly-curled hair bouncing with every step.

Akali slid down to the floor right next to her training dummy, her hand still tingling from where Ahri touched it. Her wooden kamas found their way into her grip instead, the grain warm on her palm. That was still the same, even if everything else around her had dramatically changed. She could still smell Ahri everywhere, lingering on her own hand like she had folded herself into Akali's skin.

So she tried to ignore the contract for another hour, training to sweat the poison out of her system.

Then she assisted Shen with the lessons, and they cleaned up together.

He didn't ask about the three strange women who had come to visit her, and she didn't offer an explanation. Instead she holed herself up in her room and pored over the contact list in her phone, wondering who she could call. Desperate for some kind of confirmation and validation, her first instinct was to call her ex-girlfriend.

Her thumb hovered over the name.

Then she snapped her phone shut, staring at the ceiling again. There were stars, there, again. Faint because the glow-in-the-dark chemicals had long since expired or faded away. This was still a child's room. It was too small for her, in every sense. It was everything she tried to leave behind when she moved south to Busan.

What's holding me back? she wondered. What could possibly be holding me back?

It took hours to get to sleep, exhausted as she was. And so she woke up late again, stumbling downstairs to eat a cold breakfast before running to her part-time job. Then she came back home, changed her clothes, and helped Shen with lessons.

Shen had personally trained Akali, and she was qualified to teach and give lessons on her own, if she desired. But the idea of that— finding a new area to attract students, finding space to dole out those lessons, slogging through more of the same for the rest of her life— made her so depressed she couldn't stand up straight.

It wasn't that she couldn't or didn't want to work hard. But it had to be towards something she actually liked.

So why are you avoiding the contract in your inbox?

Exhausted, she cleaned up alone. At the end of the week some of the older students would often offer to help, but most of the upkeep fell on her shoulders. Dusting, mopping, and sweeping were all a part of her post-workout routine at this point.

Except she wasn't alone.

Akali had lifted up one of the mats, nose wrinkling in distaste at a sticky mess underneath, probably a spilled sports drink that one of the younger students neglected to mention. Probably because there was a steep punishment for having food or drink near the mats.

Cursing, she let the mat drop and was about to get up to her feet and find the mop.

In front of her were a pair of smooth, long legs.

Sitting back on her heels, Akali looked up, and up, and up, to a scandalously short skirt and a manicured hand waving only with the fingertips.

"Hi," Evelynn said, finally drawing her attention higher to a pair of mirrored sunglasses. She saw her own reflection in them, on her knees, frowning tightly. "You're very focused, aren't you? I've been here for a while."

"I get lost in thought a lot." Akali stood up but that did little to lessen the distance between them. "Thank you for removing your shoes before coming inside," she grumbled, irrationally wishing she had her own boots on. They added a much-needed boost to her height and her confidence.

Evelynn's lips quirked in a smile, as if she knew what Akali was really trying to say. "Of course. I'm not an animal."

The resulting silence was horrifically awkward, but Evelynn seemed to relish in it. It didn't permeate her confident aura at all. Akali was left wondering what, if anything, could.

"If you're here for lessons, the last one ended a while ago." Akali thumbed over to the clock on the wall. "You'll have to come back tomorrow."

"Is the first hit free?" Evelynn asked. Fist on her hip, she glanced about the main floor. "I think your little dojo is just darling, so I'd be tempted to try and learn."

"I saw the video of your scrape with that photographer," Akali said, unable to resist rising to the obvious bait. She smirked. "You definitely could use some guidance."

That video and the resulting viral imagery was the first time Akali had ever heard of Evelynn, actually. Akali saw a furious, beautiful woman covered in blood and that kind of did it for her. Of course she was taking that truth to her grave. She respected Evelynn too much as an artist to ever admit she liked her for anything other than her music.

And. You know. Evelynn was married. That was kind of important too.

"Really now." Evelynn's brows rose, lips parting with interest. "Got any pointers?"

"Sure. Here's some free advice." She reached up and sharply tapped Evelynn right on the center of her forehead. "Don't lead with your head."

For a second she wondered if she'd crossed a line. It was hard to tell what Evelynn was thinking what with those thick sunglasses she always wore, even indoors. As if reading her mind, Evelynn took them off.

It immediately closed some of the distance between them, made Evelynn seem much more human as the corners of her eyes crinkled in mirth. "Oh, I like you."

"Could've fooled me." Akali crossed her arms tightly, thumbs tucked against her chest. "Now, can you tell me why you're here? I haven't signed the KDA contract yet."

Tucking her shades into her blouse pocket, Evelynn produced a phone from her purse. "Kai'sa sent me to invite you over for dinner," she said, tapping something out on the screen. "She wants to know if you're allergic to anything or if you're a vegetarian, et cetera, et cetera."

"No, I don't, uh. I don't have anything like that. I mean I'm lactose intolerant but that's never stopped me before." Akali hesitated as Evelynn handed her phone over, expectant. "What?"

"Your number," Evelynn explained. "I didn't get a chance to grab it last time."

A little irritated at the memory, Akali swiped the phone and started plugging in her information. "Because you were too busy begging for your teeth to be knocked in."

"Well, maybe you shouldn't be swinging swords around with your headphones on at full volume. You'll ruin your hearing that way, you know."

"Well, maybe you should mind your own business."

"Sweetheart," Evelynn said, really sounding like she meant the word. "If you sign that contract, every part of your body might soon become my business."

Her thumbs paused over the keyboard as Akali looked up at her.

"If," she responded, and then hit enter.

This isn't what she expected when she made that video. She'd gotten millions of views on The Tower, and the traffic spilled over to her online store. People didn't just like her, they were spending money on her. It wasn't a lot of money in the grand scheme of the music industry of course, but she'd been able to pay off her credit card bills with that revenue alone. That was something, to Akali.

(Why wasn't it enough for her girlfriend?)

"So what's next?" Evelynn asked her, returning her to reality again. She really needed to stop spacing out when people were talking to her. "If you're so confident you decide not to sign with us."

She rolled her eyes, but Akali was smiling. Who knew someone as powerful and famous as Evelynn could be so easy to needle?

"I'm doing what I did before." Akali sensed the change in the conversation, the way she noticed when a sparring partner shifted their weight, making them easier to throw. Self-assured now, she excitedly shared her plans with Evelynn. "Making my own music and posting it online. Getting known in the local scene."

Evelynn started toying with her necklace, long and gold with a rectangular charm hanging low on her chest. "And?"

Sweat burned into her eyes, reality marching around around her. She was still grimy from practice and there were still chores to be done, but she didn't want to attend to any of them yet. Pulling up her shirt, she mopped her face with the hem, shrugging. "I'm working in a music store nearby. I don't have a lot of physical merch but they agreed to sell it there, plus I have an online store." She couldn't help but puff up a little. "We got a lot of hits after my last video!"

Evelynn's thumb rested over her lips, fingers wrapped thoughtfully around her chin. Her teeth occasionally worried the nail like she was trying very hard not to interrupt Akali. Just when it looked like she was about to burst, she licked the pad, reached out, and dragged it over Akali's bare stomach.

"Yo!" Akali slapped her hand away, jumping back a step and letting her shirt drop. "Personal space?"

Evelynn laughed. "Sorry. I needed to know if the abs were spray painted on."

"Well, they're real. I work very hard on them." Self-conscious now, she covered her stomach with both hands. "And now I'm having second thoughts about having dinner at your place."

"No you're not," Evelynn said.

She didn't say anything else. Not for a while. Not until the silence was unbearably uncomfortable.

Evelynn put her on edge again, effortlessly. The balance had shifted; Akali wasn't in control of where it went anymore. Evelynn made her feel like at any given moment she was one wrong move away from being turned into a stylish leather belt. That was alarming enough on its own, but the worst part was Akali didn't entirely dislike the sensation.

"Kai'sa is an excellent cook. It's your loss if you decide not to come." Evelynn lifted her shoulders in a shrug. Her fingers found the necklace again, thumb stroking over the flat gold charm. "I know my wife will be so disappointed, she really wanted to have a proper conversation with you."

Her wife, Foxy— Ahri. One of the biggest names in kpop, if not the biggest. Akali thought back to their first brief meeting, the way Ahri hesitated after the others left, like there was something more she wanted to say. The way the scent of her clung to Akali's hand.

What did someone like her want with someone like Akali?

It lingered in her head long after Evelynn left, long after she should have fallen asleep.

That night she lay in bed, awake, again. The stars surrounding her shone little illumination on her predicament, and her quiet cell phone had no answers, either. Even though she knew it wouldn't do her any good, she went through her photo albums. After assaulting herself with years of memories among people she didn't like anymore, she finally jumped to one she had saved on every social media so that she'd never lose it.

In the photo she is fourteen years old. Her nose red, a faint trace of blood smeared on the back of her hand. Grinning like a wild thing despite the injury, because one arm was looped around Ahri's waist and the other was throwing a peace sign.

That was eight years ago. Ahri would have been twenty one years old.

She doesn't remember me, Akali reminded herself, not with any bitterness. Just faint nostalgia, and a tinge of sadness. The vast gap between their experience, their clout, yawned up larger than ever. Of course she doesn't. Why would she?

Ahri was a god, shaping the industry since she was fourteen herself. Setting trends, selling records, making deals, shipping products, wrapping everyone around her pinkie finger. She was a force of nature and Akali was... a soundcloud rapper.

She scrolled a little bit, going over her twitter feed, and then back to her sparse contact list.

Evelynn's name was near the top.

Turning it off, she rolled onto her side and tried to fall asleep.

When the time came for her to get ready, Akali realized she'd overlooked one very important detail: there was no guide for what to wear when dining with pop stars. She tore through her closet, tossing clothes over her shoulders. All of her stuff was decidedly casual, especially since she had to toss most of her possessions after moving out of her girlfriend's apartment. Relocating to Busan was not a simple task, and coming back had not been any easier.

The point being, she couldn't show up to a meeting with Foxy— with Ahri— with KDA in a hoodie and her ratty old jeans. But that was pretty much all she owned.

There was one solution, but it burned her to admit it. Some part of her resented the idea of asking Evelynn for any advice, but she decided to swallow her pride early rather than face embarrassment later.

should i dress up?

its just going to be us 4, right?

this isn't a fancy celebrity thing, is it?

Evelynn quickly texted her back. ahri is still in her pajamas so honestly wear whatever you want

"Oh?" Akali said, staring down at her phone. That was a relief...unless Evelynn was lying. If Akali showed up, the only person in casual clothing, she wouldn't need to worry about signing that contract. Ahri would just laugh her out of existence.

Unbidden, one of Ahri's older music videos came to mind. She doubted Ahri really wore lacy see-through lingerie to bed, nobody could be that extra 24/7. But the mental image had her blushing until she forced it down.

In a rush, she went out and bought a nicer top and new jeans, tighter and pricier than she normally went for. But after wrangling her hair into submission and putting on eyeliner, she thought she looked like a passable girl.

Soon it was time. Ahri and Evelynn had rented an entire house, it looked like, with a gate that needed to buzz her in. Walking to the front door, Akali steeled herself to knock when it flew open and that ridiculously tall, hot white lady stood in front of her. It took a moment to recognize her, because Akali distinctly remembered that she had black hair, but today it was platinum blonde.

"Akali! I'm so glad you made it," she said, speaking in surprisingly good Korean. "Come on inside, I hope it wasn't too long a trip."

"It was fine." Instinct made her throw a peace sign. "Kai'sa, right?"

"Mhmm! Don't wear it out!"

Kai'sa had an unusual gait, so light on her feet Akali thought she might float away. She led Akali further inside after letting her take off her shoes, and the scent of sizzling garlic, onion, fatty meat. Her stomach roared, and Akali found herself fidgeting with the bag in her hand.

"Aw," Kai'sa said when Akali revealed a small boxed cake. "You brought dessert?"

"Since you were making dinner..." Akali trailed off with a grin, glad she was pleased by the offering. She'd honestly been torn between this and a bottle or two of soju. But she read on some gossip sites that Evelynn didn't like to drink much after her very public struggle with substance abuse, that Ahri preferred expensive Italian wine way out of her price range, and Kai'sa...

A little guilty, Akali realized she knew next to nothing about the third member of the band.

"Well, I would've been happy to make dessert, too!" Kai'sa said, sounding so genuinely joyful at the idea, and smiling so broadly, that Akali's heart fluttered.

It figured that a potential pop star was beautiful to an unearthly degree, but Kai'sa was striking in a way Akali wasn't accustomed to. It didn't hurt that her accent was kinda cute, too.

"Noted." Akali forced herself not to stare, looking around the empty kitchen. "Did Ahri and Evelynn bail?"

Kai'sa waved the idea way with a laugh. "They're out getting the dye."

At first she thought she might have misheard. Her face must have betrayed her confusion, because Kai'sa went on. "They didn't tell you?" Thoughtful, she lifted a hand to her hair, fingering through the pale lengths. "I gave myself a few days to think about it, but...phase two begins tonight. I'm in a very blue state of mind lately and it keeps showing up in all my paintings, so I'm dyeing my hair blue to see if that'll get it out of my system."

Akali wished she'd brought a hoodie after all, because now without the cake, she didn't know what to do with her hands. She kept instinctively rolling them over her stomach, seeking the comfort of a kangaroo pouch that wasn't there. "Um. Do I have to do that, too?"

After giving Akali a careful look, a frustrated sigh escaped Kai'sa. "Evelynn did tell you this would be just a normal hang out and not an audition, right? I told her to tell you but now I'm not sure she listened."

"Isn't it, though?" When Kai'sa made a curious noise in response, Akali shrugged. "If it turns out we can't stand being in the same room together for a few hours, it's better to learn that now rather than later."

Reluctant to admit it, Kai'sa inhaled quickly like she was about to disagree. Then she paused, thinking about it, coiling a strand of blonde hair around her index finger. "I guess," she said after a moment.

Then she leaned down, all the way down to whisper into Akali's ear. A long sheet of blonde hair almost smacked her in the face, the sharp scent of citrus and sweet candy overwhelming, this close.

"But just between you and me," Kai'sa said, "I think they're already in love with you."

A million thoughts exploded like fireworks, each trailing off in wildly different directions. Primarily hhhh girl hot and she smells so good am I creepy for sniffing her? and I might actually be too gay to hang around pop stars, but most pressingly, in love with me? what, like with my music?

There was no immediate answer to any of those thoughts, because the front door swung open and Ahri launched herself inside, landing with flair. "We made it back!" she shouted in triumph, posed like a magical girl as a bunch of plastic bags swung from her arms. "The journey was long, but—"

Her knees went a weird way when she realized Kai'sa was not alone, twisting inward and bending slightly.

"Oh!" Ahri fumbled. "Akali is here. Hi, Akali!"

Akali's eyes swept over Ahri once, up and down, drinking her in. A white dress with cherry patterns on it, and a matching set of cherry-red bangles. She hadn't really expected to see Ahri in her pajamas, but the pop star very clearly wasn't wearing makeup or any product in her hair. This really was a casual hangout.

Evelynn slid in past Ahri, carrying a few more bags. She spared Akali a single glance before focusing on Kai'sa. "I told you to text us."

Straightening out, Kai'sa hid her hands behind her back, singing her response. "Sorrreeeee. But she literally just got here!"

"Well." Setting the bags down, Evelynn pulled off her sunglasses. She played with one of the legs, working it back and forth on its hinge. "That's good."

Before her brain could catch up, her smart mouth was already moving. "Worried I'd get bored waiting for you?"

"You do seem easily distracted," Evelynn shot back, going through the bags. It looked as though she and Ahri had also made a short grocery trip. She started putting things away, with Kai'sa fluttering at her side no matter which way she turned.

"Did you bring the—"

A bottle of soy sauce appeared on the counter.

"Nice! Thank you, Eve. And also did you—"

Evelynn set a green onion stalk down on the cutting board.

"Perfect! How about—"

Evelynn wordlessly produced one bottle of peach soju from her bag and set it in Kai'sa's palms.

"Eeeeeve! You're the best!" She did a happy little shimmy before throwing her arms around Evelynn's neck. It forced Evelynn a few steps back, but she quickly recovered to return the hug, squeezing her tight.

"Of course baby. I know what you need."

Slipping out of Evelynn's arms with a twirl, Kai'sa chopped up the onion and set it in a small dipping bowl with the soy sauce.

"Everyone sit!" she ordered, wiping her hands off on a hand towel and getting the rest of the ingredients together. "The grill's all set up, I have the tea brewed, and I already tried the pork and it's soooo good. I marinated it all day!"

Akali was hustled over to the personal grill and a low table that Kai'sa proceeded to completely cover in bowls of purple rice, dipping sauces, finely sliced garlic and onions, fatty pork belly, mushrooms, an entire rainbow assortment of banchan, and fresh leafy vegetables to wrap it all in. The table groaned under the weight.

"Uh..." Akali blinked, and in the next instant a shot glass of soju was in her hands. When she looked up, she saw Ahri and Evelynn were seated across from her, and Kai'sa slipped in at her right side after serving them tea. "Wow."

"Told you," Evelynn said, smiling smugly.

They served themselves. Ahri stuck mostly to vegetables, only making an exception when Evelynn wrapped a slice of pork in a perilla leaf and fed it to her so casually that this must be a common occurrence. Akali did her best not to stare, focusing all her attention on Kai'sa instead of the woman sitting across from her, the woman she'd had a crush on for most of her young adult life.

"So how long have you been living in Korea?" she asked, pouring Kai'sa another drink.

Kai'sa sat back a little, frowning. "Mmm. A few weeks? Months?" Making a few kissy noises to get Evelynn's attention, Kai'sa grinned. "Eve, how long have I been here?"

"At least four months," Evelynn said. Her hand was at her throat again, playing with her necklace. "A little bit before Ahri wanted KDA to be a thing."

As they chattered and ate, Ahri pushed aside her half-full plate and retrieved the hair dye. "Scoot," she said, and settled comfortably behind Kai'sa to start working on her hair.

"Aw, Ahri, you hardly even touched your—"

"I'm fine." Ahri didn't let her complete the sentence. "If we start now, we'll be almost done by the time you've finished dessert. And I'll eat that too. Promise."

A little exchange happened, wordless: Kai'sa hummed in suspicion. Ahri smirked, reached down, and gave Kai'sa's ear a tug. Whatever understanding occurred, Ahri got her way, and soon Kai'sa's head was entirely wrapped in tin foil.

"Ugh, that stuff stinks." Evelynn wrinkled her nose. "Do you have to do it at the dinner table? We have a guest."

"Don't mind me," Akali said, picking a mushroom and a roasted slice of garlic off the grill. "I'm not gonna complain when you keep me this well-fed."

"And just think." Kai'sa's eyes twinkled. "If you sign on with us, I'll cook for you whenever you like."

The soju had her tongue even more loose than usual. "Oh, so you're offering bribes, now. How desperately do you want me?"

Kai'sa's mouth popped open in shock. Then she laughed, reaching over and slapping Akali lightly on the shoulder. "Cockyyyy! Okay!" she said in English, before swapping back to Korean. "You know, you rap really good, but can you actually sing?"

Akali jerked a thumb towards the front entrance. "There's a noraebang fifteen minutes that way if you want to find out."

"Fuck that," Evelynn said, getting up from the table. For a second Akali again wondered if she'd crossed a line. The woman was just terrifying sometimes, everything about her so intense. Her goosebumps settled as Evelynn merely went over to the tv, and dragged a tiny black box over to it. "We've got everything we need right here."

Then a microphone was dropped into her hands.

"Sing something," Evelynn said, eyes blazing over the lens of her sunglasses.

Akali looked askance at Kai'sa. "So this is an audition."

"I guess it is, now." Kai'sa shrugged, the tinfoil in her hair wrinkling and making noise with every tilt of her head.

When she got up to her feet, the world spun a little. Such was the danger of drinking while sitting down. She and Evelynn inspected the black box, and after a quick internet search, Akali learned it was a personal noraebang machine.

(The first result put its cost at ₩3,000,000. Akali quickly banished any thoughts of getting one for her room.)

"How do you work this thing," Akali grumbled, fiddling with it in vain.

Ahri had been watching them all quietly, her arms crossed. She seemed interested in how the cards would fall, neither approving nor disapproving. But when the three of them struggled to work the machine, she decided to intervene. Sighing, Ahri shooed them away and took over, pulling up a list of songs for Akali to choose from.

"You know, you've got a surprisingly cute voice," she murmured. "It's higher than the last rapper I worked with. Very distinct."

Sharply, Akali realized this was the first thing Ahri had directly said to her since she entered the house. Not sure what to make of that, she scrolled through the list, focused intently on finding something that would make her look good. After a moment though, she landed on some older pop songs, and a devilish spirit overtook her. "How about this one?"

Ahri gasped. "No!"

"Oh, yes," Evelynn said, and hit play. Her wife wailed and covered her face with both hands as a sparkling, youthful techno beat popped out. Ahri's unmistakable voice started chirping and crooning to them.

Laughing, Akali jumped in the distinct dance for Foxfire, one of Ahri's earliest singles. Kai'sa joined in; it was almost impossible not to. Nearly every station in the world featured the video for it. If you didn't know the Foxy dance, you were a reclusive weirdo.

It helped that the chorus was... pretty easy to memorize.

I am a fox, I am a fox, I am a fox, I am a fox, I am a fox, I am a fox, I am a fox, I am a fox, I am a fox, I am a fox, I am a fox, I am a fox.

When the song was over, Kai'sa and Akali were both breathless with laughter, leaning heavily on each other. Even Evelynn couldn't hide her smile. Though she'd wanted a serious display of Akali's talents, she couldn't resist a little fun. Meanwhile, her wife was as red as a cherry tomato.

"Oh, she thinks she's funny," she said, voice surprisingly icy.

"No, I'm hysterical," Akali responded, finally feeling at ease.

Tutting, Evelynn drew Ahri into her arms, holding her and rubbing her nose into Ahri's hair. "Don't be mad, gumiho. It's my fault, I selected the song."

"I'm not mad, I'm embarrassed!" she said, voice muffled by Evelynn's chest. "Just because you did that, Akali has to sing one of your least favorite songs now!"

One of their phones starting beeping, a timer going off. "Hold that thought," Kai'sa said, rushing away. "I need to wash this dye out. Don't start without me! I want to hear Akali sing for real!"

Evelynn followed her movements with a smirk, eyes tracking Kai'sa until she was gone. "...Yep, you won her over."

"Well, Kai'sa has a hard time resisting a woman who can dance," Ahri mused.

Still flush from drinking and dancing, Akali's face grew even warmer. The bizarreness of this situation probably didn't help. Here she was, trying to impress a goddess of pop and a reclusive musical icon, the stars of their industry. And one very cute, very tall girl that she still knew nothing about. "She uh. She likes to dance, huh?"

"She loves to dance," Ahri corrected her, pulling out her phone. She was smiling brightly now that the subject of the conversation had changed, twisting with excitement. "Have you seen the stuff she was doing at her old studio? It's insane, watch this."

Eager and curious, Akali waited while Ahri searched for the right video. The music started, and a few other dancers from the studio gave their performances. Each of them worked slightly different choreography to the same song. Most were decidedly provocative. Akali's English was a little rusty, but the language barrier didn't matter much when the dancers made it clear what the lyrics conveyed.

Then Kai'sa slinked onto the screen, naked except for scraps of leather and flannel and thigh high heels.

Akali spent the next solid minute screaming internally as she watched Kai'sa crawl across the floor, her teeth bared in what could have been a furious snarl or a helpless grimace of ecstasy. More than sex appeal, Kai'sa projected nothing but unbridled hunger, head clutched in her hands as she lay on her back, hips arched. Each kick of stiletto heels felt like a strike to Akali's core. Sweat was flying from Kai'sa's silver hair as she tossed it wildly, and touched her straining torso, fingers dancing over her ribs and toned stomach. It was combative, demanding, voracious, and lithe, and...

"God, I love this one," Evelynn said, longingly. "But it's not her best! This one is... blunter than Kai'sa tends to be."

"Okay," Ahri said, "So which one is her best?"

"The one that was so sad it almost made me cry?"

Ahri's eyes widened. "Oooh. Okay, well, unless you want to cry in front of Akali..."

Evelynn thought about it. She twisted the gold necklace, fiddling with the golden charm. When she made up her mind, she pulled up another video. "This one is more typical Kai'sa."

"Mmm," Akali squeaked, because she knew if she remained dead quiet they'd suspect she was about to combust. Thankfully the next video was significantly tamer. Kai'sa had black hair again, coiled up in cute buns. A familiar pop song bounced in the background while Kai'sa danced, clearly having the time of her life.

Strutting confidently, she displayed more of the Kai'sa they had seen at dinner. Cheeky and sweet and just a little flirty. They went through a few more videos, each one increasingly impressive. Akali's personal favorite was the one that was almost entirely splits and painful-looking contortions. She didn't even know the human body could bend that way.

"Hey!" Kai'sa said when she returned. The dye had taken well; her hair shone, bright blue like cotton candy. Toweling off some excess water from her ear, she beamed at them. "Are you showing Akali my old dance stuff? Did you show her the fire-dancing one? Oh! Did you show her the really slutty one?"

"That's the first one I showed her." Ahri grinned.

Kai'sa made a fist. "Nice. That one's my favorite."

"But it's not your best!" Evelynn insisted, distressed this time.

Paying her no heed, Kai'sa strode up to Akali and pushed the microphone back into her hands. "Okay, Miss Akali," she said. "It's time. Pick a Siren song that Evelynn hates."

"That will be very difficult to find," Evelynn said, "Because I don't publish anything I don't love."

Ahri rolled her eyes, surprising Akali with a little childish mimicry. "I don't publish anything I don't love," Ahri said, opening and closing her hand like a little mouth.

"I don't," Evelynn replied coolly.

"How about Agony's Embrace ?" When Evelynn responded with just a quirked brow, Akali shrugged. "It's stuck in my head. Sue me."

She pressed play, swaying, and immediately realized her mistake. Evelynn's voice was perfectly suited for her own song, obviously... and the two of them couldn't sound more different. While Akali did her best to keep up, she croaked on one or two notes. She didn't much care to copy Evelynn, but if she was supposed to be showing off her strengths, this wasn't the song to do it with.

She made up for it by dancing, or so she hoped. As talented as she knew Kai'sa and the others to be, Akali doubted they knew any hat tricks. So she popped off her snapback, rolling it over her chest in exaggerated, locked movements. She even managed to bounce it from her knee to her foot and back again.

Whirling around, she winked at her audience, setting the cap back on her head.

Sensing the challenge, Kai'sa stepped forward and yanked Akali's hat off with her teeth. Clutching the bill, she flipped it and caught it by the bill again before letting it drop to her knee, then her foot, then she kicked it back up. The hat soared through the air, spinning over Kai'sa's head and down her back, where she hooked onto it with her toes.

Kicking back, she launched the hat into the air once more, and it landed, lopsided, on her crown.

Akali forgot all about the song.

"What!?" she screamed, clutching her own head in shock. "How did you do that?! That was incredible, oh my god! Keep the hat, just keep it! It's yours now! Take everything I own!"

"Kai'sa," Ahri and Evelynn said at the same time, with twin expressions of annoyance.

"Stop being a showoff and let Akali sing," Evelynn added.

"Sorrreeeee," she sang, not looking sorry at all.

But after that, it was impossible for Akali to get her head back in the game. "I'm not a very strong singer," she admitted. "I can carry a tune and harmonize alright, but I'm not gonna have any solos anytime soon."

"Don't be so sure of that," Ahri said. "You're very talented. And we can coach you."

Grabbing her by the arm, Kai'sa gave her a friendly little shake. "And what's really in your heart is rapping and dancing and writing lyrics, right? That's why we want you, and that's what you're good at!"

Something about the unadulterated praise made her want to provide a counterweight. She wasn't used to this much positive attention. "I mostly freestyle—"

"Then freestyle for us," Evelynn said.

The more they talked, the more real this felt. Akali was swept up in it, excitedly clutching Kai'sa's hand when it rested over hers. "...Okay!"

The song was still playing, nearing the end. And the instrumentals behind Agony's Embrace poured over her, familiar as a friend. She'd been listening to this song nonstop for weeks, actually, so she had a good sense for the beat and where she wanted to enter in.

Except she was still a little tipsy ( Shit. Shit.) and didn't know what she was going to say and other women were all so hot and cool ( ice ) and talented ( gold ) and Foxy was so perfect ( like a diamond ), even without heavy makeup ( glitter ), maybe even especially without it ( diamonds are ice and snow glitters in the light ). Akali found herself staring at at her, too focused to worry about anything except the words bouncing in her head ( cold but I spit fire ).

...What rhymed with glitter?

She took a deep breath, running on instinct and years of writing, the rhymes forming from muscle memory, ideas linked together on the fly.

Rhyming I'm a spitter, Til I'm winding up to hit 'er Turn her round and sit her bottom line on something mined that glitters, Diamonds, Ice bitter cold, so nice with the flow But Aka's lit, don't you know? Steel nerve, inflexible That's hard rock Louder than a gun cocked On velvet fur or soft locks That's why we need a stone fox Because she likes it on top Clapping like a beat keep it nonstop KDA gon' bring the heat BECAUSE WE GOT THIS ON LOCK!

The song kept going, but Akali was finished. Shouting, Ahri and Kai'sa both pounced on her in an excited hug pile, praising her impromptu rap. She didn't think it was her best or even very good, and she thought Evelynn might tell her as much.

Instead, the song wound down into chatter and laughter, until Evelynn picked another song, taking her turn at the mic.

It was perfect. It was absolutely perfect.

Akali woke up on the couch, throat a little sore and eyes glued shut. It took her a second to remember where she was, staring up at the ceiling and not seeing the glow in the dark stars. She hadn't even realized she'd fallen asleep.

Someone had draped their jacket over her in the middle of the night. Closing her eyes again, Akali snuggled into it, inhaling deeply. It smelled distinctly like sweet wet leather, chocolate. Layered in there, bitter undertones of something sharp and woodsy, like pine. She wondered whose jacket it was. She hoped it was Ahri's.

Unexpectedly, her body ached. The thought of Ahri on her, surrounding her, holding her, sent a bolt of heat right to Akali's clit.

Damn it.

Getting up, she couldn't resist shrugging the jacket on. A glance outside the window confirmed it was still dark outside. Just as she wondered if it would be more rude to leave or stay, she heard a voice.

"I'm sorry," Ahri said, "Did I wake you?"

Spooked enough that her skin rippled with gooseflesh, Akali didn't answer at first. Deep in the shadows of the hallway, near the kitchen, Ahri was half-obscured. "No."

Ahri stepped a little closer just as the sun started rising more, the room lightening bit by bit. She was smiling, hair messily piled on top of her head, and Akali learned she was the type who wore long shirts to bed. When she reached up to stretch, the hem lifted up, revealing a flash of bright red shorts underneath.

When Akali tore her eyes away back to Ahri's face, hoping she hadn't been staring too hard, she found Ahri grinning knowingly.

"Nice jacket."

She immediately began to shrug out of it. "Sorry, it was on me when I woke up."

"No, no, no." Ahri stopped her, fingertips brushing against her bared shoulder. Again her skin prickled, flesh rising to the touch the way flowers opened to the sun rising. "It looks good on you." She thought a moment. "Keep it."

The white leather settled comfortably back around her. Akali shoved her hands into the pockets, unable to resist beaming at Ahri. "Okay, but no take-backs."

"Heh. You're cute, Akali. I wish I'd met you sooner."

You did, Akali wanted to say, but she bit it back.

Ahri stretched again, rubbing her face before she started fiddling with the coffee maker. "You drink coffee?"

Sometimes her ex had it with dessert, if it was very, very sweet. But Akali was mystified that anyone actually needed it to get their day going. "Never liked it."

"Never start. It's unhealthy." Ahri tapped out the grounds, still yawning sleepily. "The only thing it's good for is summoning wayward spirits. Do you want to see a magic trick?"

When Akali nodded, Ahri giggled and flicked on the machine. It bubbled, hissing. The bitter scent rose up, and soon enough Evelynn and Kai'sa were at the kitchen table, both of them on the verge of passing out as they waited for their wake-up juice.

"Oh," Evelynn drawled. "The meme girl is still here."

Kai'sa whacked her on the shoulder, hard enough that Evelynn actually flinched. "Be nice!"

Evelynn slumped further onto the table, rubbing her bruised skin. Then her tongue flashed as it clicked against straight white teeth, and Evelynn let loose a string of grinning Mandarin so fast and so saucy that Akali wasn't sure she wanted a translation. That suspicion was only confirmed when Kai'sa turned bright red. She unleashed a flurry of slaps to Evelynn's shoulder, snapping back an impassioned response.

"There's no need to bring my ancestors into this," Evelynn said, drawing herself up, regal and self-important.

"There's only so many ways I can curse you out, specifically," Kai'sa huffed back.

"Well that just makes you uncreative."

Their bickering became very physical, ending with Evelynn's neck trapped in the crook of Kai'sa's arm, both of them complaining loudly. Akali watched, fascinated, as Ahri just served them both a cup of coffee as if she saw this every morning.

(She probably did.)

"Come on, Akali." Ahri vanished, returning in a summer dress and a sunhat, waving for her to follow. "I'll drive you home. These two are obviously unfit for polite company right now."

"I'm not sure caffeine will help," Akali joked as she followed her.

The other two didn't even acknowledge them leaving, too wrapped up in their argument. Ahri let Akali out first, and so she had just enough view to see them still bickering. But as the door shut, Akali swore she saw Kai'sa lean in close, her long hair obscuring their faces.

Ahri locked the front door, eyes glued to her cellphone. She shot off a few quick text messages before smiling up at Akali. "You good?"

"Uh." Akali thought she might still be sleepy. Seeing things. "Yes, I'm fine. I can just take the bus."

The other woman dismissed the idea, car keys jingling. "It'll be faster if I take you." Her lips curled in a smile, and damn it, the only way to describe it was vulpine. "Besides, this way I get to spend more time with you."

Despite that, the car ride was mostly silent. Akali remained distracted by the memory of Kai'sa and Evelynn, how close they had been sitting. How comfortable Evelynn's hand was on Kai'sa's lap, and the things they had said to each other last night. She wondered what their relationship was. She wondered how she could ask.

Instead, she blurted out, "So what's the deal with you guys?"

Ahri kept her eyes on the road. "Hmm?"

"I don't know. It just seems weird, I guess. None of us are typical kpop fare."

"We're misfits," Ahri said after only a moment of deliberation.

Akali shifted uncomfortably, remembering what Evelynn had called her. "Is that why you want me?"

Beside her, Ahri let out a low, sudden breath. "Yes."

Akali glanced at her.

"I think you're a good fit for us," Ahri clarified. "Akali, I'm sorry if I was a little cagey last night, and still acting a little strange now. It's just, you make me nervous."

She made her nervous? She didn't even know the famous Foxy could be nervous. Now she knew was staring, and nothing could make her stop. But rather than be entranced by Ahri's profile, by the golden glitter of her loose hair, Akali wasn't sure who she was looking at. "That explains why you barely talked to me last night."

Ahri grimaced. "So you noticed."

"I'm smarter than I think you or your wife give me credit for, yeah." There went her mouth again, always getting her in trouble. Familiarity breeds contempt as they say, and Akali couldn't keep a respectful tone in her voice if she was comfortable with someone. Shockingly enough, it earned her few friends.

She glowered out the window, trying not to be mad at herself and failing. "Look, you don't have to be nervous around me. I'm just a nobody. And you, you're." Where could she even start with Ahri, this perfectly sculpted figure from her earliest fantasies, her most vivid dreams? She'd been chasing after Ahri's shadow her whole life. "You're a god. You don't need me."

All too soon they arrived at Akali's place. The dojo, and Shen's home attached to it. Turning to her, Ahri's smile and casual demeanor dropped entirely. For once, she was deadly serious. "When I was growing up there were a hundred girls who could have eagerly taken my place, and fucked the producer for the opportunity."

Startled by her blunt words, Akali leaned in to let Ahri know she was listening.

"I work very hard, but the truth is I am also just extraordinarily lucky." Ahri waited, taking care with how she chose her words. "More of this industry boils down to chance than anyone wants to admit."

The car idled, a low rumble. Akali wasn't sure what she should say, or if Ahri was even done talking. Ahri didn't seem sure either, struggling with something Akali couldn't begin to understand, and then she sighed.

"What I'm trying to say is, I'm not perfect, and you're not a nobody," Ahri said. "I don't want you to join KDA if you think that. And if this is about need, then we need you a hell of a lot more than you need us."

"Me?" Akali repeated the only part she could clearly understand.

"Yes, Akali. You. Everything about you. You're real. You're hungry for what you haven't had a taste of yet." But Ahri was the one who seemed ravenous just then, something almost desperate trying to claw its way out of her stoic expression. The distance between them shrank, the brim of Ahri's hat knocking on Akali's forehead. "We've been too well-fed for too long."

I don't want you to join KDA if you think that.

Want.

She didn't know if she wanted to join KDA. Or if there was even anything she wanted, anymore. Akali had been floating aimlessly for months now, and suddenly there were too many paths and she wasn't prepared for any of them.

Want.

Ahri's eyes dropped down to Akali's mouth, and she licked her lips.

She knew exactly what she wanted.

There wasn't any resistance, and barely any space left between them when they kissed. She wasn't even sure which of them had broken the air with that final movement. Ahri slipped her hat off, getting it out of the way, her hand shifting from the wheel to Akali's lap. She didn't know when that had happened, either. The only thing she knew was a pleasure so keen it could almost be called agony. It burned white hot over the split in her brain, no right or left hemisphere, all animal instinct, a hungry little reptile wriggling towards the heat of the sun.

Sparks flew, just like all the songs said they would. She saw nothing but blazing light behind her closed eyelids, disbelief making her body numb until Ahri touched her and brought her to life again.

Her hand immediately went for Ahri's breast, palming her over her dress and then under it. She'd always been fast, liked to go for the kill. Akali didn't care about the car motor still running or the broad daylight outside or that anyone could see them. She wanted flesh in her hands and she wasn't going to wait. Nimble fingers found Ahri's nipple, rolling it greedily until it was stiff enough to pinch.

"Oh, god," Ahri whimpered, sounding tormented, confused.

Akali pulled back sharply, hand over her mouth. It was still warm. It still smelled like Ahri.

She finally got a good grasp on what that was: roses thick on the back of her throat, heavy florals, and something base, something animal and thick as blood on her tongue.

On the other side of the car, pressed against the driver door, Ahri didn't fix the strap on her dress or her half-exposed chest, pink nipple still pert and swollen like it wanted more attention. Ahri's cheeks flushed, with embarrassment and with the heat still dripping from her gaze.

Then clarity returned to her eyes. Then panic.

"Akali," she started, covering herself up, but Akali was already gone. She slammed the car door shut behind her, heart pounding in her head as she stiffly walked back inside her home.

Retreating to her room, she slammed that door too, slumping down to the floor with her head in her hands, all her thoughts replaced with wordless screams.

It only took a few days for her to come to a decision. There was no other choice she could make, not with everything she was feeling, with everything she knew was right.

She turned them down, politely, via email. She hit send.

Not even an hour later, Evelynn was blowing up her phone.

Ahri was too nice to say it but you'll never get an opportunity like this again in your life

With Evelynn, at least, she didn't feel so bad about her naturally grouchy disposition.

oh so youre goign to throw a tantrum bc i dont want to deal with you???? thats cute

She tapped out furiously, hands shaking.

i bet getting rejected stings a lot to people like you

who never have to hear 'no'

Briefly she thought of what Ahri said, about fucking the producer for the position. She didn't think that was what almost happened, but at the same time they had crossed a line. They had crossed every line. And she was here yelling at her wife.

well too bad you can just get over it

you dont even like me

is this because of me? is it something I did?

I do like you, Akali. I told you I liked you.

fuck

A very long pause. She thought that might be the last she ever heard from KDA, from Evelynn, from Kai'sa, from her idol, Ahri, Foxy, her goddess.

Then an hour later, one mournful text.

I like you so much

She knew, more or less, when Ahri told Evelynn what happened in the car.

Because the next text message was all alone, almost sinister.

maybe its best you didnt join us

Definitely bait. Akali had returned to making music, doing good on her promise. Taking heart from what Ahri said, that she didn't need them. Akali felt it must be true. She didn't need anyone. Hadn't life already proved that? After she gave up everything for one person, and that person hadn't ever even properly supported her, had told her she was wasting her life.

She didn't need people like that anymore. She didn't need anyone, she didn't need to share with anyone and she didn't want to share.

what does that mean

Akali took the bait anyway. She was bad at ignoring provocation, always ready to fight.

Ahri doesnt fuck bandmates

The words were like taking a dip in ice water after a workout. All the burning rage left her body, replaced with shame. Irrationally she wanted to set the phone on the ground and bow to it, like that could somehow get across her embarrassment, her almost-sin.

but if you're lucky

Evelynn texted,

she might just fuck a groupie

and Akali went red-hot again, out of anger, and lust, and confusion.

The stars in her room didn't shine any brighter, but she got over that, too.

On one of her rare days off, she locked herself inside with her new computer and a set of noise-cancelling headphones. Swiveling from side to side in her chair, she leaned back and closed her eyes, nodding along to the beat. It wasn't much more than snare drums and a synth but she thought it sounded pretty good.

Akali did not lack in confidence, usually.

Maybe in the aftermath of a wretched breakup she had gotten a little weak. She couldn't blame anybody but herself for that.

Restarting the track, she sat forward and opened up her editing software, wanting to play around with it some more, when she heard a knock.

"I'm busy, Uncle Shen," she called back.

A lengthy pause, and then a softer knock. Rolling her eyes, Akali stalked over and swung open the door, ready to be confrontational.

"Hi," Ahri said, and in a panic Akali almost slammed the door shut in her face.

It was a close thing. She clung to the door handle with both palms, crouching like she was ready to bolt. "Oh, shit!"

Ahri started laughing. "Oh, shit? Is that how you greet me?"

"Yes. I mean no!" She took a few steps back, rubbing her eyes. They burned from staring at the computer screen. "I mean... shit. You're still in town? I thought you'd left by now."

Getting a better look at her, Akali found her body posture oddly cute, hands hidden behind her back like she had a secret. "Mm. Nope. Kai'sa finds the mountains very inspiring, so she wants to stay here a little longer."

The other woman very clearly wanted to be annoyed, but all she could muster was fond amusement. She probably loved it that Kai'sa was being such a little artiste. It seemed like she and Evelynn both enjoyed indulging her when they could.

Awkwardness burned between them. So Akali did what she did best and bustled on through it. "So what do you want? I already told you no. And I'm sure Evelynn will be really happy nobody is gunning for her wife anymore, unless you have other girls you've been making out with."

Taken aback, Ahri pressed her lips firmly together. "Evelynn likes your music. She likes you. Kai'sa does too. We..."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, I know. Now you're gonna tell me you're not predatory like everyone else in the industry and you're cute and nice so that means I should trust you."

"Most idols don't even make any money for their first few years." Ahri's voice took on a harder edge now, annoyed. Akali found it refreshing from that unending sweetness, that carefully controlled politeness, the sugar over the ice. "Eve and I are backing this almost entirely by ourselves. That means no debt for the living arrangements, for feeding you, for filming you, for training you—"

"Ahhh. So now you're saying I have to sign on with you."

"No!" Those soft brown eyes were focused on her, burning with a heat that had nothing to do with the summer sun outside. "I mean I— didn't want to coerce you into this decision, but yes, it's true. I'm giving you something you'd be crazy to throw away!"

Ahri rubbed her forehead, suddenly exhausted.

"...I didn't come here to snipe at you," Ahri said at last. "I'm sorry. I know I muddled things up. You have every right to reject my offer."

"Uh, yeah," Akali said. "I'd say so."

Taking a moment to collect herself, Ahri inhaled deeply and then dropped her head in a deep bow.

"I'm sorry," she said again, eyes hidden by a curtain of blonde hair. "I just wanted to see you again, and apologize properly. That's all."

"Mhm," Akali said, not impressed in the slightest. "I remember what happened the last time you 'just' wanted to spend more time with me."

A wine red blush spread over Ahri's cheeks as she glancing up from her bow to pout at Akali. "Okay, yeah. I know that wasn't right of me. What do you want me to say? I'm sorry. I'm really sorry." Some of her steel started to droop, sadness taking over. "And if that's why you decided not to join..."

Akali couldn't take any more apologies. "Stop."

Waiting patiently for an explanation, Ahri slowly realized none was forthcoming. "Okay."

That should have been the end of it. There wasn't anything left to do except say goodbye. She couldn't be with Ahri, not the way she wanted. Being in the same band as her would only hammer in all the things she could never have, until pining turned into bitterness. Akali didn't want to fight for Ahri's attention. And the cold hard truth was she had to share her. Not just with her wife, but with the whole world.

She needed to come to grips with the fact that she wasn't the only person who loved Ahri...though she probably never really loved her at all. Heck, she didn't even know her. Just like any other fan, she loved a version of Ahri she had built in her head.

"Your wife is the one you should be apologizing to, anyway," she finally said.

Ahri's bark of laughter made her blink. "Don't worry about Eve. She's just jealous I got to you first."

She what?

A curious light entered her eyes, voice edging closer to suspicion. "Come on, Akali. It's an open secret that Eve and I aren't monogamous. Is that why you freaked out?"

Akali refused to answer that. "So how much of you asking me to join was just because you two wanted to fuck me?" Akali accused her instead.

But instead Ahri just smiled, shameless for once. "Uh. About twenty percent? I thought I kept a good lid on it until you kissed me."

"You kissed me."

Ahri shrugged. "Either way I was being selfish."

"Because you don't fuck bandmates." She tried for anger again, for something pointed. In truth she said it because she wanted Ahri to hurt. Apologies weren't cutting it, not for all the conflicted feelings Ahri was responsible for.

"...I don't," Ahri said, studying her hard.

Instead, that lingering sexual tension ramped up to an unfathomable degree.

"I never have," she went on, "Unless you count Eve. And Akali, there's only so much my ego can take. So if we're done here please tell me. Otherwise I'm going to need you to lock the door."

Akali's pulse pounded, like the abandoned beat still bumping from her discarded headphones.

Grabbing Ahri by the forearm, she dragged her further into the room, shutting the door and pinning her against it with a kiss. Ahri wound her arms around Akali's neck, mouth already open, tonguing her roughly like she wanted to hurt her too, but was just as bad at it.

"Is this what you were really after?" she asked, shoving her harder against the door when Ahri started to push back. Ahri let her, submitting, head rolling as Akali kissed down her neck. Both hands cupped her breasts, filled and overflowing as she squeezed and kneaded.

"N-no," she said, offering some token resistance before Akali bit her bare shoulder. She hissed, squirming. " —yes, fuck, fuck, yes."

She stood between Ahri's legs, hiking up her dress and getting just a taste of soft thighs before she stroked right over her underwear, as gently as possible. Ahri pushed her hips forward, seeking friction, and Akali met her pace, working two fingers over damp fabric until Ahri was cursing under her breath.

Then Ahri started shaking with helpless giggles. Pulling back, Akali frowned at her until she remembered what was right behind her, plastered to the wall. Just to confirm, like she didn't already know what she'd see, Akali glanced over her shoulder to glare at a life-sized poster of Ahri on her bedroom wall.

Akali closed her eyes, wanting to sink into the floor. "Pretend you didn't see that."

"That's a dinosaur of a print," Ahri said, trying and failing to muffle her giggles. "I recognize that limited edition sticker! How long have you had it?"

There was no way she was going to answer that. But while she was distracted, Ahri took over. She had a way of manipulating the people around her without effort, in her career and evidently in her love life, too. Their position swapped so fast that Akali didn't know when or how it happened. When she tensed to step away, her back hit the wall, and moving any direction meant some part of her touching Ahri.

"Did you want an autograph?" Ahri whispered, lips brushing over her neck.

Yes. "No."

She got chills, body throbbing as Ahri worked open her belt with both hands, roughly yanking, demanding more. "Do you want this?"

Definitely yes. "Only if you aren't too busy, I guess."

Ahri sealed her lips on a patch of Akali's neck, hard enough to leave a mark. Then she changed gears and blew a loud raspberry, shocking a laugh out of Akali. She squirmed, shrieking in laughter and rubbing her neck with one hand.

"Kai'sa was right," she teased her. "You are cocky."

Once she got ahold of herself again, Akali was flush with embarrassment. She hadn't expected Ahri to be so silly; some part of her still wanted a fight.

"Yeah." She grabbed Ahri by the wrists, stopping her when she tried to slip her hands down Akali's pants. Hefting her up over one shoulder, she smiled when Ahri squeaked. It was a short trip to the bed, dropping her hard enough that she bounced. "Well you won't be complaining when I'm knuckle-deep inside you."

A look of genuine distress crossed over Ahri's face then. She sat up, crossing her arms over her chest in an X. "Whoa! Pause! Being totally serious here for a moment: don't do that. I don't like penetration."

Some of the heat of the moment fizzled out, leaving Akali to awkwardly reassure her. "Oh. Um, that's okay. I'm not too crazy about it either, to be honest."

"Neat." Another big grin from Ahri. Then she wiggled out of her dress, tossing it aside and looking up at Akali expectantly. "It's kind of nerve-wracking, isn't it? Learning how to make love to someone new."

Akali agreed, but couldn't say as much. Her eyes were glued to the gold necklace around Ahri's pale neck, the chain draped over the sharp angle of her collarbone. It perfectly matched the one Evelynn was always fiddling with; Ahri just didn't often wear a neckline low enough to display it.

She shrugged out of her shirt but not her pants, carefully taking a seat next to Ahri on the mattress. There was still time for one or both of them to change their mind; this felt more permanent than any contract Ahri might ever throw at her. They couldn't go back, not from this.

But it was hard to be scared of that idea when Ahri had that proud smirk on her face, eyes bright with devilish intent. She leapt onto Akali's lap, wriggling closer as she reached behind herself to unclasp her own bra. "So how thin are these walls?"

Her palms framed Ahri's waist, tracing the way it blossomed out into full hips. Akali reached further down, grabbing Ahri's ass with one hand and kneading it possessively. "Very."

Ahri let the bra drop, grinning even sharper now as she fluffed up her hair with one hand, pushing it back from her face. "Then I guess we'd better keep your mouth occupied."

Two hands coiled into her hair, working her ponytail loose before gently massaging her scalp. Akali closed her eyes, hot and relaxed at the same time. Those hands guided her down, along with a murmured request. "Play with my breasts a little."

"Okay." She took as much of Ahri into her mouth as she could, sucking and licking her nipples until Ahri was grinding on her lap. Ahri didn't keep her hands to herself, stroking down the back of Akali's neck and passing over her shoulders, soft noises of approval humming low in her throat.

Then Akali stopped, sitting back and putting both hands flat on the mattress. "But only a little."

Ahri complained, pushing her back against the mattress, knees straddling her waist. "More than a little!"

"Shh," Akali reminded her, free arm around Ahri's waist and pressing one finger to her mouth for silence.

She ran her thumb over Ahri's lips, pleasantly surprised when Ahri instinctively opened her mouth to let her inside. Breathless with excitement, she watched, fascinated, as Ahri took her thumb up to the knuckle. Her tongue flicked over it once, lips tight as she dragged it free and took Akali's index and middle finger instead, moaning softly around them.

"You can do better than fucking a groupie on a twin-sized mattress," she said, in a whisper.

Her fingers dropped from Ahri's mouth, tracing a wet trail down her chin before dipping below her waistband. She found her, stroking her clit, and was immediately rewarded with another noise of pleasure.

"Oh my god, Akali." Ahri's gasping words barely made it past the sound of Akali's pounding heart. Her clit twitched every time Ahri said her name like that, already soaking wet and she hadn't even been touched yet. "You still don't get it, do you?"

Ahri held her tight, rocking onto her hand, breathing heavily. She was unbelievably soft, skin ghostly pale against Akali's tanned hand. This close to her, Akali couldn't resist leaving bruises wherever her mouth could reach, spilling drops of red and purple paint all over the canvas. With every stuttering twitch of her hips, Ahri came so close to coming that Akali could almost taste it.

But just before she did, Ahri stopped her. A breathless exchange ended with her kneeling over Akali's shoulders, digging into the mattress on either side of her head.

"You're not just a fan to me." She stroked her head, fondness swimming in her eyes. Akali looked up at her, feeling defenseless even though Ahri was the one stripped bare. "You're the competition."

She did taste her then, completely overwhelmed by the thighs pillowing her face and Ahri's bare sex rutting against her tongue. Ahri was incredibly gentle, careful where she rested her weight. She took Akali's hands, folding them with hers and pinning them against the mattress. Every inch of her burned, sweat and sex making her thighs sticky when she desperately pressed them together, trying to find relief.

Briefly she entertained the idea of drawing this out, but she didn't get to tease Ahri for long before both hands were on her head again.

"Like this, Akali," she said.

Hearing Ahri tell her exactly how to get her off was enough to have her fumbling open the top button of her pants, hands shaking as she touched her own slit.

"Good girl, Akali." She twisted onto Akali's tongue, gasping. "Oh, good girl."

She'd never been with someone like this before, so in tune with her own desires and so unafraid of asking for more. Locking her lips around Ahri's clit, she narrowed her eyes and remembered to breathe, licking Ahri until her jaw hurt. Her own orgasm was on the precipice, so close but not enough, and she couldn't focus on getting both of them off at the same time.

Ahri came on her face, messily, shaking, quiet. The world shrank away, all her concentration on drawing out what she could until Ahri lowered herself down back to lie alongside Akali. Her intense gaze wavered slightly from exhaustion, like a guttering candle flame.

"Can I touch you?" she asked, and when Akali nodded she traced her sex over her pants. She was wet enough to have soaked through her underwear, a cool, damp spot pressing between her legs as Ahri found her pants ruined too. "God, you're wet."

Ignoring that for the moment, Ahri openly admired Akali's abs. She kissed them, tongue stroking over them and down the sharp furrow of her hips. Impatient, Akali pulled her pants and underwear down past her hips. Ahri returned to her face, kissing kissing Akali as she stroked over slick, dark curls.

"Please." Her throat was almost too tight to squeeze it out.

Ahri's serene smile returned. She pressed a little harder, framing Akali's stiff clit between her fingers. "Please what?"

"Please," was all Akali could say.

Ahri kept up indirect contact, petting and stroking just around where Akali wanted until she buckled.

"Please touch me." The words spilled from her lips, not held back by embarrassment or pride any longer. "Please make me come. Please, I'm so close."

"Look at me." It wasn't an order, not exactly, but it was impossible to disobey. Locked together with her arms around Ahri's neck, she struggled to keep quiet, to keep her eyes open.

Ahri watched her fall, anchored her as the world went blank, and when it was over, stroked her hair as she trembled furiously.

Her first instinct was to move away and get some breathing room, but that almost toppled her over the edge of the bed. Instead she wound together even tighter with Ahri, who snuggled up against her, face to Akali's chest.

"That was fun," she said, thumb tracing a slow circle over Akali's hip. "I should have done that the moment I met you."

Akali propped her chin on top of Ahri's head, still reeling a little bit, but also strangely underwhelmed by how normal this part still was, just like with any other girl she'd ever touched. "You would be in jail."

Ahri huffed. "Excuse me?"

Slapping a hand around on her bedside table, Akali found her phone. She held it up, scrolling through albums until she found the picture. Maybe it was embarrassing, but she'd just come in less than a minute from Ahri's delicate fingers stroking her off, there wasn't anything she could do that was more vulnerable than that.

"Here." She showed Ahri the picture they took together when Akali was fourteen. "You probably don't remember, but there was this private event in the next town over. I scaled the wall to get in, cause I didn't have a ticket. When I fell flat on my face in front of you onstage, you—"

"Oh my god!" Ahri bolted upright, gasping in shock. "Nosebleed Girl?! That was you? I tell people that story all the time!"

Akali sat up too, cheeks warming. "...I'm not sure if this is better or worse than you not knowing me at all. Thanks for the photo, by the way."

"Awww, Akali." Ahri reached out, pinching both of her cheeks. "You were a baby, how could I have said no?"

She couldn't help but scowl at the memory. "Yet you still had security escort me out."

"Sweetheart, you broke in. Keeping you wouldn't have been fair to the fans who paid."

Keep me, a little voice inside her said. Keep me now. Want me.

She wrestled the urge down, firmly slamming a door shut over it and locking it shut. "Would've been nice to get an autograph, too."

Ahri's smile turned devious. "Thought you didn't want one."

She could have insisted that she didn't. It wasn't too late. But instead her face kept warming up until she knew she must be bright red, and Ahri started laughing. Flopping back against the bed, Akali pulled a pillow over her head. "Shut up."

The mattress shifted as Ahri got up. Akali waited, hearing fabric rustling, and assumed that the other woman must be getting dressed. It was bittersweet. She hadn't expected Ahri to stick around, but she wasn't ready to say goodbye yet, either.

Then a warm weight dipped over her, Ahri's naked body pressed against hers. Akali lifted the pillow to see Ahri straddling her hips again, a black marker in her hands. She uncapped it, the stringent scent of alcohol hitting her as she slowly dragged the tip over Akali's bare chest. By the time Akali caught on to what she was doing, Ahri was already done.

She couldn't read it at this angle, but Ahri had written what looked like an entire screed all over her breasts, long and large enough that it sprawled down Akali's sternum.

It would have made sense to be angry, or amused, at the expression of smug satisfaction on Ahri's face. Like they were playing a game, and Ahri had won, somehow.

Akali's hands curled into fists at her side, arousal pooling up between her legs again. "Are you done, or did you want to add your manifesto, too?"

"Oh. You're right, I did forget to add something."

Ahri shifted lower, and this time Akali could clearly read property of Foxy over her thigh, bordered with hearts and flowers. Ahri capped the marker again. She tossed it aside, kissing just under her handwriting.

A low hiss escaped Akali, fists gripping the sheets now as Ahri kissed her way up between Akali's thighs. "Open your legs for me, Akali."

Akali realized she must be getting off on this. Ahri had to be getting off on this, the knowledge that every time Ahri said her name she clenched with need. The fact that Akali loved her with that unique fannish desperation people give to idols. It could have made her angry if it were anyone else. It should have made her angry.

Instead she sank into the sensation of Ahri's mouth cleaning the sticky come on her thighs, her hands spreading her lips open to gently kiss her entrance, thumb rubbing eager circles over her clit. She used her fingers and her mouth, more communicative than any other partner she'd had before.

Is this okay? Is this too deep? Is this how you like it?

"That's it, Akali," she said as Akali started to fall apart underneath her again. An appreciative hand stroked over her stomach, coveting the divots of her abdomen, tracing every hard-earned muscle. "One more time, just for me."

Tears pricked at her eyes from the struggle to keep from shouting. She saw stars even when she closed her eyes, bright lights spinning in her head until she came down with a whimper. Ahri's tongue was a firm presence against her clit, pressed hard to her but not moving, not until she stopped twitching. Only once Akali had calmed down did she start again, a slow, torturous drag.

This time Akali thrashed, fists tangled in Ahri's hair, thinking, I can't, I can't, I can't, I couldn't, I shouldn't, except she could and she did, coming like a frazzled broken wire, sparks shooting off erratically, just on the edge of pain.

Taking Akali's hand, Ahri and guided it between her own legs. Eager to take back some measure of control, Akali explored with her hand what her tongue had already known. Akali thought she couldn't come, not again, not until she felt Ahri twist on her palm and cry out loud.

She came so fast.

The sound of her, of wet flesh and sharp breathing, and the smell of her, overwhelming.

"One more, Akali, one more for me," Ahri encouraged her, the force of her own climax leaving her sounding tormented.

And she couldn't tell Ahri no.

Ahri worked her slowly, as if she knew this one needed to be savored. Or maybe she was being merciful, knowing at this point Akali was sensitive to the point of pain. Her last orgasm shocked her, seized her up, and she forgot herself entirely as her back arched up off the bed, and she shouted yes!, or maybe she just thought it so loud she imagined Ahri could hear it. Surely it was etched out over every inch of her body, like the ink running down her wet skin.

"Stop!" she finally gasped when Ahri's breath huffed against her overheated flesh, since Ahri was evidently going to keep at it until she begged her not to. "Stop, stop."

She drifted in and out for a solid minute, chest heaving. Akali was vaguely aware she was drenched in sweat, the writing on her body probably smudged to the point of being illegible.

Ahri's cool hand touched her cheek, face fading into her vision. "Are you okay?"

She nodded, too winded to speak. This time when Ahri slipped from the bed, she really did get dressed. The dress straps slipped back over her shoulders, brazenly marked with Akali's own signature. The bite marks had blossomed out nicely, every inch of her exposed neck and chest clearly bruised, unmistakable for anything except what it was.

Ahri noticed too, a wry smile on her face. "Can I borrow a scarf?"

She gave Ahri one of her jackets, pulling the hood up over her head and tugging the strings. "What are you going to tell Evelynn?"

"I'll tell her we had sex. And it was very good."

That firm hand gripped her chin, guiding her in close for another lingering kiss.

"She won't be mad?" Akali couldn't help but whisper, feeling ashamed again and wishing she didn't.

Thankfully, Ahri was fine reassuring her some more. "With how much she flirts with Kai'sa, I have a feeling we'll need to re-establish some boundaries soon. But no, she won't be mad."

She frowned deeply. "Is this band just a front for you two to pick up chicks?"

"It's not." Ahri blushed a little. "I really wanted you to join KDA."

Akali eyed her, still wary. "If you say so."

A soft sigh. Ahri zipped up her jacket, adjusting her purse on her shoulder. "The contract is still valid for a good long while," she told her. "If you ever change your mind, Akali, you know how to reach us."

One last shiver as she said her name, but less intense than before. The fever had passed, and neither of them said goodbye as Ahri walked out of her room, and shut the door behind her.

The next few days passed like a dream. She spaced out mid-conversation, staring out the windows or brooding on the roof where Shen couldn't find her. Her music still waited, everything she wanted to share with the world still in-progress.

When she had washed off Ahri's words from her body, she could just faintly make out a word or two. All my love, and to my biggest fan, and hugs and kisses. She'd really gone all out with it.

A week later, a thin cardboard tube arrived with her name on it. Even without a name attached, even before opening it she had a feeling she knew what was inside.

Cautious, Akali unrolled the poster. It wasn't from any photoshoot she recognized, and as a Foxy superfan, she knew about most every single one. Despite herself, she was impressed. Foxy had been working on rebranding her image for years, and here was a final proof of concept. Ahri was posed on a plush chair, wearing form-fitting black and white with a long blonde fox tail draped over her lap. It was elegant. It was sexy. No more bubblegum pop. Three business cards and a letter also fell from the poster, and Akali bent to pick them up.

This is from a top secret project, Ahri's handwriting said, more flowers and hearts and smiley faces scribbled on all the margins. The pre-orders go live tomorrow, no one else has them yet. So if you leak it sooner, remember, I know where you live.

Akali's voice was dry as she spoke to the air. "I'd like to see you try to take me on."

Examining the business cards now, Akali couldn't fight a smile. They were KDA's professional contact information, and the name of their agent. A note from Ahri explained further.

Even if you're striking out on your own, you'll still need friends. KDA will always be here to support you and share the stage.

Damn it.

Akali wanted to be mad still, but it was hard when Ahri was being so damn cute. Rolling up the poster, she set it down beside her chair.

"I don't want to share," she said, to no one.

The last person I shared with hurt me, so, so bad.

Sitting back in her chair, Akali stared up at the glow-in-the-dark stars on her ceiling.

Then she scrambled out of her bedroom, pulling a hat on and hopping into her shoes at the doorway.

She ran nearly every single day. She ran to build stamina and to keep her physique and to get away from the house and a million other reasons.

So she was only mildly out of breath when she reached the house Ahri and the others were renting. Spotting Evelynn's car outside, she nodded to herself and quickly scaled the fence. It was easy; she dropped down on their lawn and jogged right up to the front door and banged on it with a balled-up fist.

"Hey! Open up!" she said. "Is anyone home?"

She heard faint movement inside, then the door lock clicking. When it swung open, Evelynn stood there, an absolutely poisonous glare on her face.

"Miss Akali," Evelynn said, "Do you know what time it is?"

Oh. Akali glanced at her phone, grimacing at the early hour. "Uh. Sorry. It couldn't wait. I mean I have your number but I didn't want to call. I mean this is important! I need to do this in person!"

As she babbled, some of the ice melted from Evelynn, replaced with concern. "Slow down. Is everything okay? Are you in trouble or something?"

"No!" Akali took a deep breath. "No."

Then she yanked the contract from her backpack, freshly printed with her name signed at the bottom. Holding it in both hands, she extended it to Evelynn, bowing politely.

"I want to join KDA."

The resulting silence burned, weighing her down until she finally dared to look up at Evelynn.

The other woman had a hand tight over her mouth, eyes shining with barely constrained laughter.

"Oh my god," Evelynn said in between careful, deep breaths. "Ohhh, this is gonna be good."

"Evelynn?"

She stepped forward, closing the door shut behind her as she forced Akali back a few steps.

"Tell me honestly," Evelynn said, and after a moment Akali realized she needed to stand her ground eventually or Evelynn would chase her right to the front gate. So she stood still, forcing herself to not back off when Evelynn was right there, close enough to touch, chest to chest. "Did you change your mind just because Ahri fucked you?"

She knows. Of course she knew, Ahri said she'd tell her. Ahri probably told Evelynn she'd try to make a move before it even happened.

"And you'd better tell me the truth," Evelynn added, "Or I won't let you inside."

Because I want to share. Akali stood firm, even if she couldn't help but crane back a bit, leaning away from Evelynn. Some small part of her wanted to run away even now, wanted to hide somewhere she didn't have to take any risks, or let anyone near her, or let anyone close enough to hurt her ever again. Admit it. Say it. Even if I make it big somehow it'd all be meaningless if I didn't have someone to share it with.

Then she hung her head, knowing she wore her heart on the sleeve and knowing Evelynn was probably shrewd enough to see she wasn't telling the whole truth.

"Because I'd— I'd—I'm—" Akali stammered.

Spit it out, stop being a coward, be the firespitter, spit it out, admit it!

"I'm—" she took a deep breath. "—Lonely. I'm so lonely. And I c-can't take it anymore."

I'd rather die than spend one more day as lonely as I feel right now.

Evelynn stroked her necklace thoughtfully, eyeing her over.

"I see."

That was all she said. At first.

Until she reached out, gently pulling the contract from Akali's hands.

"Let's take a look at this over breakfast," she suggested, moving so that she had one arm over Akali's shoulders. Akali was swept up in that familiar scent again, sweet leather and chocolate and bitter pine. Belatedly, she realized that jacket, the one Ahri let her keep. It must have been Evelynn's. The other woman guided Akali back to the house, opening the front door for Akali. "Kai'sa can make enough for four."

Too thrilled to be stunned, Akali let a huge grin take over her face. "Yeah?"

"Yes." Evelynn casually pinched her cheek. "And then you and I are going to talk about exactly what you expect from my wife."

Her stomach plummeted, nerves making her want to backflip right over the fence she'd just scaled. But before she could lose her nerve and dig her heels in, they were inside the house and she'd slipped her shoes off.

"Honey," Evelynn called out, an amused smirk on her face. "Are you up? You're going to want to see this."

She gave Akali a sidelong glance.

"I brought a surprise."

bittersweet, undefeated creature – against you there is no defence

— from Anne Carson’s translation of Sappho’s fragments, entitled If Not, Winter

#when i see you #kda #lol #fanfiction #xeksplicit

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nottooldforthisship · 6 years

Note

Hi love, hope you and little peanut are doing great. Was wondering if you could rec me some journalist au?

Sure !! (I chose fics where the plot is about being journalist, because there’s also a lot of fics where on of them is journalist but that’s not that important for the story)

-You're the Light : Before beginning a new graduate school in the fall, Louis Tomlinson decides to spend the summer working in Chicago as an editor’s assistant for the Chicago Tribune newspaper and staying with his old college roommate. What he finds on his first day of work is a tall, gorgeous editor named Harry who has the most beautiful green eyes he’s ever seen—and who also happens to be his new boss. (31k, E)

- feel the chemicals burn in my bloodstream: Harry is a journalist with a lot of secrets and Louis is the future king of the United Kingdom; they live together for 60 days. (123k, M)

- Sing When You’re Winning : Harry is fifteen minutes late to the office on the day Louis Tomlinson comes out as gay. Or, the one where Harry’s a chronically underpaid magazine intern and Louis is the Premier League’s first gay footballer and pretty much the last thing they need is each other. (90k, NR)

- In Vogue : Fashion AU. Louis is the editor in chief of Vogue magazine, and Harry’s running British GQ. Featuring Zayn as the crazy creative director and Louis’ confidant, Liam as the sports writer that gets to sit front row at fashion week and DJ Neil as the only sane person in the whole story. (There are no skinny jeans in this fic) (121k, E)

- 73 Questions : Louis is more nervous than usual about filming the upcoming episode of Vogue’s 73 questions. Musician and soon to be actor Harry Styles may have something to do with that. (6.5k, NR)

- Everything You Touch Turns To Gold : #BBCOlympics Fic, featuring Great Britain's swimmer (and medal hope) Harry Styles and sports commentator Louis Tomlinson, who finds it incredibly difficult to keep reporting objectively. (4k, E)

- the magic that is you and me : Or, the AU where Harry works at Jason Mraz's avocado farm, Louis works for BuzzFeed, and they've only got a few hours to fall in love. (18k, NR)

- When In Rome : A modern day Roman Holiday AU, where Harry is the prince of pop on a European tour desperately in need of a break and Louis is an expat in Rome just trying to make rent. (19k, T)

- We'll go slow and high tempo : Apprentice journalist Harry Styles has a bit of a crush on former football player turned Adidas model Louis Tomlison.A fortuitous encounter with his ex colleague Liam might lead to an interesting turn in Harry's life. (5k, E)

- If You Wanna Try Me On: To be fair, Harry’d been half asleep when Niall convinced him to put in his CV in the first place. Like, Harry wants to be a proper serious journalist--he’s not about to give up that dream in favour of becoming a personal assistant at a fashion magazine, or...whatever. Harry’s not actually all that sure what Tomlinson Styles even is, beyond his ticket to fame or any of the other things Niall’d spouted off at him, but when he shows up for the interview and is unceremoniously shoved into an office with the Tomlinson part of that equation, all Harry can really think about is that he would like to be a Tomlinson-Styles....or the Devil Wears Prada AU that no one wanted. Sort of. (18k, E)

- Be My Angel : Harry is the new premiere male model for Victoria’s Secret and he’s making his debut at their annual Angels show. Louis is a journalist working for GQ who’s covering the show. They meet and stuff happens. At first Louis thought it was because of the body glitter or maybe even the apple martinis, but now he thinks that it was probably just because of the boy. (9k, E)

- c'mon baby, make me fall in love with you: Louis is an unrecognised and disenchanted journalist working at Real Exposure, a tabloid that’s on the brink of going under. In order to save the paper, Simon, the editor-in-chief, decides they need a story that will shock everyone and keep the name Real Exposure on everybody’s lips.Enter Harry Styles, the former teenage popstar turned tabloid darling. Simon is certain Harry is hiding dark secrets about his past, and Louis is tasked with going undercover to dig them up. But when Louis gets a lot closer to Harry than he originally planned, he ends up having to make some serious decisions that could affect his entire career. (56k, M)

Also I still have to read them but it looks good :

- That Sounds Fake But Okay : Harry Styles is a rookie journalist forced to work the gossip desk at a major New York magazine. Louis Tomlinson is the A-list actor who doesn't appreciate Harry or his articles. (112k, E)

- Black with Autumn Rain : or: Harry is a journalist, Louis has lots of secrets and the moors aren't exactly the ideal place to rekindle a lost romance. (93k, T)

- Watch Him As He Goes : Or, the AU where Louis' the best police reporter in the country, Harry's the new photographer who is more used to penguins than human subjects, and also there are superheroes. (14k, M)

- A Rhythm In Rush : Harry is a WWF journalist with big dreams and Louis is a glaciologist that flies helicopters for fun. Greenland is an odd place to spend Christmas, but just maybe, the perfect place to fall headfirst into love.(40k, M)

- never mind the odds (i'm gonna try my luck) : Louis Tomlinson is going to be the journalistic voice of his generation. He’s just waiting for his editor to realize it. For now, he’s stuck writing fluff pieces for the Life and Style section of London Now Newspaper.His latest assignment is more of the same rubbish: a profile of Harry Styles, plastic surgeon and one of London’s most eligible bachelors. Louis is intent on writing something smart and biting and unexpected; if it makes Harry look like an idiot, that’s just the price of good journalism. That is, until Louis gets to know Harry and realizes he might be kind of perfect. Featuring Louis as a writer/workaholic, Harry as a plastic surgeon with a heart of gold, Zayn and Niall as Louis’ colleagues and long-suffering best mates, and Liam as everyone’s favorite pediatric surgeon and Harry’s right-hand man. (60k, E)

- I Put a Spell on You : A BBC/Secret Santa mashup featuring Captain Niall, our intrepid weatherman/amateur matchmaker, rather clueless sports reporter Liam, charming political analyst Zayn, and cheeky entertainment reporter Louis. Harry is the new fashion correspondent who prefers to dress like a flamingo. And pining. There’s a lot of pining. (17k, E)

- Crimson Delicious : Louis Tomlinson is writing his first article for Rolling Stone Magazine and it's a big one. Harry Styles is super sexy, in a pop band, and never goes in with his band for interviews so no one knows anything about him. Louis gets an interview with him. Meanwhile, there's a James Franco exhibition going on at the Metropolitan Museum of Art. (10k, T)

- Something Just Like This : Newspaper intern Harry Styles can't believe his luck when he goes from fetching coffee for his boss to writing about London's own superheroes, One Direction. Even better, he gets to spend time with the unfairly handsome Freefall, also known as Louis Tomlinson. Louis, who is way out of Harry's league and far too busy for a proper relationship—so how on earth is Harry supposed to tell him they're expecting? (31k, E)

#oh hey it's been a long time I didnt make a real fic rec #here you go :)#fic rec #my fic rec #Anonymous #answers

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bandoms-are-fandoms · 6 years

Text

Ghostwriter Chapter 4

As much as I would have liked it too, my life did not slow down once I began work for BTS. Day in and day out, we are always on our feet; the boys practice every chance that they get and there is not a moment to even take a break, let alone write a single song. No wonder they went looking for help, every morning we get up before sunrise and every night we end up getting home after the vampires come out. I mean, geez! I thought to be an intern was hard, but I think I'd rather be unpaid and manual labor than do what they do every day.

The work isn't the problem though, every chance the boys got to spend time with me, they did so I could get a better idea of who they are as people. There have been plans canceled and even throwing me in some dressy clothes and making me tag along to big events like celebrity parties. Not that they wanted to go to those either. Suga's face told me that he hated how much a party would turn out to be, but after a party one night, the boys started drinking with me around and I did get out a few little secrets from them.

They each have a girlfriend although I have not met any of them yet. Some of them sound just terrifying though. Suga told me about his girlfriend who was also a Korean Popstar by the name of Mi-Ok, but her stage name was Sinbi which went with her Lolita style (apparently). The thing is that each guy described Mi-Ok as the type of girl who doesn't take very well to being told what to do and they say she is pretty scary with her popstar mask off (she has resting bitch face or so they say).

Jimin explained to me that his girlfriend was a Social Media Consultant and that I would meet her pretty soon. Her name was Mun-Hee and she was some kind of genius. She had finished all of her school by the time she was sixteen and was on the board of her father's company, Bumonim Eum-Ag. That's terrifying to think a girl, not much older than me might I add, sitting on a board and bossing people probably twice her age around.

Namjoon is dating an American girl by the name of Shayla and he explained to me that they had collaborated on a couple of songs before deciding to become a couple. He told me that she was a very relaxed person and went with the flow of the conversation, but that didn't mean she wasn't ready for a fight whenever the time came. He told me that she was having trouble back home with another producer and that I probably wouldn't meet her for a while. The look in his eye though, it held some much affection when he spoke about her.

Eun-Yeong was Jin's girlfriend and she is probably one of my all-time favorite models; he explained to me that she was always busy and he didn't get to see her as much as he wanted, but he was enduring for the time they could actually spend together. She's apparently a force of nature, a real advocate for what she wants and what she believes should be done for future generations of women. She has family troubles, but she pushes through and that's what he wants to convey to her in a song.

J-Hope is with a Latina girl by the name of Carina and he showed me a couple of dances they did together for Carina's dance studio. She was accepted into an academy here in Korea when she was younger and she built herself up from scratch to be able to be the best of the best. I smile as I would watch as I saw his face grow brighter and brighter with each move on the screen and I couldn't help, but notice everyone looked so proud to talk about their girlfriends.

V was dating this girl by the name of Maggie Cho and she was also American, she was their primary translator whenever they needed to travel and Namjoon wasn't around. She's apparently a very shy girl and that's why I haven't met her either. I get a strange feeling these boys are just trying to hide their girlfriends from me, but I don't quite understand why they would do that.

Jungkook is the only one who wasn't really looking for a relationship right now and that is what is going to make writing the hardest on me. Sure, I can take the words that each one has told me about what they've endured with their girlfriends, but it won't be the same as them actually writing the song for them. Jungkook can't even tell me he wants the song to be like, he just said that I should think about how my body would "move for a guy." What do you do with that!?

I sigh to myself as I go over the day's events once more, looking at the notepad in my arms. I adjust my heels, trying to get inspiration from the simple white stilettos, but that pain was nothing about love or body. In fact, even wearing heels is like hating your body, but they're just so damn cute, I can't take it! Scribbling out the words of pain from my blisters, I sigh as I try to think of words to describe love, but what is love?

I've never been in love, only the idea of being in love. Groaning, I switch the notepad behind the tablet I was given that contains today's schedule. The boys were recording an interview and I was traveling with them as their Administrative Assistant to understand who they are as people to be able to write the songs they asked me. We've been up since like five in the morning and I'm already exhausted at ten thirty this morning. They all had to get ready and chastised me as I was getting ready in the car because I held them up, all in good fun though.

I watch them smoothly talk through the interviewer's questions, giving just enough to show who they are, but not enough to ruin the image they've spent on for the last five years. Before bed last night, I decided that I needed to get to know the fans and the boys better with my own research. Apparently, their fans are called ARMY and they have the strongest passion out of everyone for BTS to succeed.

I look down at the schedule in my hands again, noting that our day is packed until at least midnight, if not longer. Every day, these boys are working hard for their fans and for their dreams. It's hard to believe people so young have such an impact on other people's lives. Sighing to myself, I begin to doubt my talents once more.

I have no sense of rhythm and I can hardly rhyme, but when I write, it flows from my fingertips on to a page. Watching the boys clammer off stage in excitement, I place a smile on my face as I had each boy a bottle of water.

"Great job out there!" I praise them, looking at the schedule, "We'll get you guys some food while we wait for the car to come and get you. Apparently were filming something else today...?" I murmur, looking it over.

"It's an episode of Run BTS!" J-Hope informs me, quickly finishing his bottle of water. I look at him with a confused look, scrunching up my eyebrows, "You're really not involved in popular culture, are you?" He teases, grinning at me.

"...I can tell you about American tv shows, some Japanese shows, and Korean drama, but..." I sigh, rubbing my head, "I know absolutely nothing about music."

"I heard you singing in the bathroom this morning," Jungkook pipes up and I can't help, but laugh a little.

"An opening theme song..." I tell them sheepishly. Before our playful banter could continue, my attention was taken away by a tv manager.

"Ms. Tsukamu!" The manager calls, running over to me, "Sorry to bother you, but I need to discuss a few things with you..." The manager takes me away from the group, but I wish I wasn't doing this alone. My head can barely wrap around what has happened in the past week, let alone what I have to say to this manager.

After we finish up at the studio, we make our way to the next stop: filming for Run BTS apparently. Everything is going so smoothly, I figured that the day would end on a high note, but boy was I wrong. We spent hours watching the boys fight in a kimchi battle and eventually, the losers are supposed to clean up. Sadly, Jungkook, J-Hope, and Jimin are the losers and take three years to clean up. While we stand off to the side as these boys begin their punishment, Namjoon pulls me close to him so he can talk to me quietly.

"Have you started on a draft yet?" He asks me and my stomach literally drops to my ankles. At the anxious look on my face, he gives a small sigh, "We can't expect you to be on our level after just a couple of days of spending time with us, but you should have some sort of draft."

"We've just been so busy and I know that's not an excuse-" I began to explain to Namjoon, but he holds up his hand for me.

"I thought what we told you the other night would've helped." He sighs as the boys finish up cleaning.

"You ask me to write a love song based on your experiences," I try to explain to him the impossibility of it, but he just shakes his head at me. Quietly, the eight of us move into the van and head back to our home. Filming had taken all day, so we had to push most of today's events to tomorrow. I glance at the clock on my phone and sigh; eleven fifteen... Where has the day gone?

When we arrived home, everyone began to trudge their way back to the bedroom. Well, everyone except for me; as I watch them all go to their respective rooms, I sit down on the couch taking off my pain filled heels and I stare at the blank tv screen. After only a week of staying with them and I still am not up to par for any matter.

Begrudgingly, I walk into the bedroom I was sharing after making sure both boys were decent and awake so I can grab my pajamas. After grabbing the shorts and the t-shirt, I walk into the kitchen, pulling out one of the tiny cakes I had bought the other night. Moving to the kitchen table, I start to nibble on the sweet treat while staring at the notepad once again.

"Heartbreak..." I whisper to myself, "Enduring... First... Unrequited... Self... Body..." Sighing, I begin to write down whatever came to my mind, but I was a novice when it came to anything about love. I know family love, but I can't even explain all of that... I really am totally useless, aren't I?

Hours seem to tick by as I sit and stare at the scribbles and marks on the notepad, but nothing is coming to me. Usually, when I write, I just let my hand do all the work and let the words flow right out of me, but I just can't write anything that's worthy of being called a love song. How do you even write a song? How do you even write in general?

Frustrated, I throw the pencil down and lean back in the chair. For the first time in a week, I felt like crying again. I can't compete with a global sensation of a boy band; they would get better work from a slug than they would me. I've had script after script thrown back into my face because it wasn't "original enough" or "the characters didn't feel real." The best comment was when a teacher of mine looked over one of my writings for me and told me that I should, "look into a new career path" because I didn't have the talent. I should've just listened to her, but I continued pressing forward, hoping my dream could come true in South Korea. I should've just stayed in Japan and became a simple office work.

My prideful tear ducts refused to let loose even one tear, but I felt the turmoil of emotions turning into my stomach. Everything going on made me feel like I was going to throw up and I was just about to give up for the night when I felt something cold touch my forehead. Blinking my eyes open, I look to see a glass of water above me.

"You need a break," Jungkook informs me, setting the glass down and sitting across from me.

"I'm sorry, did I wake you?" I put on my best smile, taking the glass gratefully as I sipped on it.

"I needed some water and noticed that you were still up," He shrugs his shoulders, drinking his own water.

"I didn't even hear you come in." I realize as I look at him in mild surprise.

"You looked like you were having a moment, so I thought I'd leave you alone for a bit." He chuckles, turning to look me in the eye. His gaze became serious as he steadily held my eyes with his own, "Are you alright?"

Trying to play it off, I smile at him and take a big gulp of water to will my emotions back into their container, "Never better!" I chirped quietly, maintaining the smile.

"You can't bullshit me, you know?" He leans back, crossing his arms. I tilt my head, raising an eyebrow.

"Now, why would you say that?"

"Because you're not okay and you're not fine," He huffs, "You've had the same fake smile on your face since we left the studio. You wanna tell me what's going one?"

For a moment, I felt my smile waver and I was about to spill my guts, but I just can't do it. Feeling overwhelmed by my emotions, I just shrug my shoulders at him, "I'm a little homesick, I guess."

He gives me a look that tells me he's not buying what I'm saying, but I still can't bring myself to saying anything. Quickly, I stand up, making the chair squeal underneath my weight. Giving an awkward cough, I head towards our shared room.

"You can't keep lying. You wear your heart too much on your sleeve," He whispers, but the quiet room allows it to catch my ears. I turn to him and give him one more smile that I could muster up.

"Just because I don't say anything in confirmation, doesn't mean that I'm okay," I mumble to him, "Are you going back to bed?" He shakes his head and I nod mine in return. Quietly, I crawl into bed next to Chi-Chi and fall into a deep, restless sleep.

The next day, we all scramble out of the room and head back to Big Hit Entertainment to discuss the day's plans. The boys haven't eaten, so when we arrive, I retrieve a tray of food that was prepared for them and it was set out in front of all seven boys and all four managers. Just as I was about to leave, Jungkook grabs my arm.

"I have something I want to talk about," He sighs loud enough to catch everyone's attention. He releases my arm and clears his throat awkwardly, "I think, because she's so inexperienced, that Sakka has hit and writer's block."

"Jungkook." I hiss at him a warning tone, but he ignores me flat out.

"So, I want to work with her," He says, cooly. The words that leave his mouth are so nonchalant, I don't think they processed in everyone's minds until a moment later. Nobody made a sudden move and I couldn't help shouting out my response.

"What did you say!?"

________________________________________________________

Author’s Note: I don’t own BTS, but I do own Sakka and her companions. This is loosely like Voltage’s Scandal in the Spotlight and anything associated with that I do not own

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haroldslovekitten · 7 years

Text

Sign of the Times - Pink Series pt. 5

Hello lovelies! So sorry this is a day late! And I know people are freaking out about Harry’s first solo tour right now! I’m in the same boat - ie. so fucking in love with this man! But please, read this when you get the chance - I had a lot of fun with it! Enjoy, my loves! And always, “Treat people with kindness” :)

Word Count: ~5k

.xx -M

These last two months have been what Harry thinks of as the hardest two months of his life. Sure, he’s gone without speaking to you for long breaks before, but never because he’d hurt you, never because you didn’t want to talk to him, always because you couldn’t, were too busy, or he was off touring the world as an international popstar. So, this wallowing at home all alone knowing that the last thing you’d want was to hear from him was absolutely brutal. He’d tried to distract himself by hanging out with Grimmy, even went up to Holmes Chapel to visit family, but not even his mother’s cooking and Gemma’s constant teasing could take away the pain he was feeling.

He knew he’d fucked up, and he also knew there was nothing he could do about it at this point. He’d pushed too far, felt too much, as he was prone to do though he’d never tell anyone that. And now he was stuck, watching reruns of Friends, and hating himself for feeling like for the first time in his life, he felt somewhat similar to Ross, who is the last person on the show he’d want to be compared to. But here he was, pining, feeling sorry for himself, full of anger and self-hate, but wanting nothing more to be curled up by your side like a puppy, wrapped in your arms and your love forever. He’s never felt this pathetic before, and he can’t stand it, he really fucking can’t. So, as he sits there watching Ross make the mistake of taking another woman to bed even as he’s trying to win Rachel’s heart, he gets an idea. Admittedly, it’s a terrible idea and he’d never even think of doing this if he wasn’t drunk and heartbroken. But with resolve, he picks himself up, and heads to the bathroom to shower and get ready to go out on the prowl, and find someone to assuage his pain, at least for the night. He knows that there’s a party happening at a friend of a friend’s and makes his way there.

The rest of the night is a blur, mostly, and he tries not to think too hard as he dances with a random stranger, her body feeling strange and uncomfortable as she grinds on him and does everything in her capabilities to seduce him. Little does she know that her efforts are really just putting him off, reminding him, even in his drunken stupor, just how unlike you she is. You’d never rub up against him this way, at least not as anything but a joke. You’d never beg and plead for him to want you, because you don’t need him to, and you (at this point he’s sure) know that he already wants you. You’d never get slobberingly drunk as he and this girl are doing, and be out in public making a spectacle of yourself. You just aren’t that type of person and he loves that about you. He loves the way you don’t feel the need to draw attention to yourself, how content you are in your own being, and how happy you are to be calm and at the sidelines. Your presence is calming to him, and humbling. Your simplicity is one of the many things that draws him to you, and well, this girl screams complexity, and not the kind of complexity that will have the two of them up till the wee hours of the morning having intense and stimulating discussions.

When he finally can’t take anymore, he does something that he’s far from proud of, but he’s never been a fan of confrontation, especially not in public. He leans down, kissing the blond stranger (who he’ll later find out is actually a model - of-fucking-course) on the cheek and murmuring that he’s going to get them more to drink. She nods excitedly and continues dancing, thrilled to have caught him in her snare. Quickly, Harry rushes towards the back of the club his friend rented out and calls his driver, knowing he’s just around the corner. It’s not 2 minutes later that Harry is safely in the back seat of his own car, breathing in and out and thanking his lucky stars he hadn’t made even more of a mess out of tonight.

When he arrives home, he heads straight to bed, not even bothering to check his phone or fully undress. At this point, he just wants to sleep for as long as possible and forget about the constant ache in his gut. That night, he sleeps soundly, not realizing that what he’d missed by not checking his phone was a very important text from you.

So, when he wakes the next morning, head aching and legs feeling strange after having been wrapped in tight jeans all night, he’s shocked to find a text message from you sitting on his home screen.

Hey, H. Miss you...still mad, but I want to see you. Can you hang out tomorrow?

He rereads your words over and over again, his brain slightly slow at processing the meaning of your text. You’re still mad, of course you’re still mad, he’d acted like a total dick, but you miss him and you want to see him...today? He messages back as quickly as his fingers will type.

Y/N, I miss you too. I’m so fucking sorry for what a prick I’ve been. Yes, I’m free today. When do you want to meet?

His breathing is erratic and pained as he waits for your response. He was honestly beginning to think you’d never contact him, that he’d have to get used to life without you, forever. He thought that he’d have to learn to stop loving you, to stop pining, and to finally move on. Now, with this text message, his hopes were repaired, though really, deep down he knew he should still learn to stop loving you, he really should move on, but maybe he won’t have to.

How’s 12 sound? We can get lunch near the park and have a picnic? It’s nice out today.

He checked the clock, it was only 10, he had plenty of time to get dressed and meet you at Regent’s park which had become both of your favorites recently. He tried to ignore the voice badgering him from the back of the head claiming that you only suggested a picnic so that you wouldn’t have to be in a private place with him, that you couldn’t stand the thought of being completely alone with him. He pushed the thought away and cheered up considerably.

Perfect. See you soon x

Two hours later, he was dressed, sobered up (thanks to the smoothie he’d made), and waiting for you outside the gate you usually entered through. Sure, some people were paying him odd looks obviously knowing who he was, but he didn’t care, he was going to see you soon.

He hadn’t been standing there more than 3 minutes when you arrived, pretty yellow sundress hugging your figure and a somewhat sad smile gracing your face.

“Hey, H,” you say quietly, still unsure how this reunion is going to go.

“Hey,” he breathes, as if he’s releasing all the tension he’d built up in his heart over the past two months. “Thanks for seeing me, Y/N, I’m so sorry for being an idiot. I don’t even know how to make sense of what I did, but I’m so sorry that I did it,” he finishes.

“I don’t know why you did it either, but I’m willing to forgive you. Life kinda sucks without you around,” you say sheepishly, running your hands through your hair nervously.

“I could say the same about you, love,” Harry laughs, much of his nerves now being put at ease.

“Do you want to grab some sushi and sit on the hill?” you ask, motioning down the road to the Wasabi restaurant that you like to frequent, though the sushi isn’t top quality - it’s super convenient.

Harry simply nods, ecstatic that you want to spend time with him. You walk down the street quietly, neither of you really making conversation, feeling slightly awkward after the very intentional distance put between the two of you. Harry can’t stand the silence, knowing that it’s anything but comfortable for either of you. It hurts knowing the discomfort is all his fault.

“I’m really sorry if I messed things up between you and Connor…” he trails off, not looking you in the eye.

“No, we’re good, it wasn’t that big of a deal, I was just shocked at your actions is all…”

“I know. So was I. I think I was just being protective. Got used to having you around, you know? Don’t want to lose you,” he says, the words completely true and heartfelt, though there’s more he could tell you.

“I know, and you won’t” you say, smiling at him now and it feels like a physical weight has been lifted from his chest.

“So how are things going? Well I hope?” he asks, these words much less truthful than the ones he’d just said.

“Well, yes and no,” you laugh nervously. Usually telling Harry about your relationship problems would be second nature, but it still feels awkward and strange talking to him about Connor.

“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to. We can talk about whatever you want,” he says quickly, trying to ensure that you don’t feel pressured in the slightest.

“No, I want to talk about it. I need to, just in a little, okay? Once we’re settled?” you ask, obviously nervous.

Harry guesses what you have to say must mean a lot to you if you want to sit down and really take the conversation seriously. He mentally checks himself, reminding himself to not be an asshole, to treat you as a friend and nothing more, and even if he feels as if his heart is breaking with every word you say about Connor, to act completely happy and enthusiastic about the two of you. Once you’ve bought some sushi and made your way to Primrose Hill, the two of you sit down together, much farther apart than you would have two months ago and Harry realizes that though he’s making progress in coming back into your life, it’s not going to be all easy or even quick.

“So, talk to me, love,” he smiles reassuringly before taking a bite of his lunch.

“Ok, so we’ve been together for two months and it’s been great...ish,” you say, cringing at the end.

“What’s made it not so great?” Harry asks, his instincts as your friend overpowering his instincts as your would-be lover.

“Well, when he comes over and we sleep together, he never really cuddles or anything, and then he rushes off in the morning. It’s like he’s afraid to commit and I know it’s only been two months, but I really thought he liked me, you know?” you ask, your insecurities evident in your voice.

“Does he just generally stay over on nights when he has to work early?” Harry asks, giving Connor the benefit of the doubt.

“No...I wish. It’s always on weekends usually and I know he doesn’t have work in the morning because we work together. That’s another thing - he doesn’t really spend time with me at work, never shows me any affection in public or anything. Like, we have fun and enjoy each other’s company and the sex is fantastic, but I feel like he’s being intentionally distant,” you continue, frustrated.

Harry works to contain his anger - he can’t stand the thought of you being treated any less well than you deserve. But he knows that’s not his place right now, so he just scoots closer to you, finally feeling as if the friendship is mending.

“Have you tried talking to him about it? Asked him why he rushes off? Why he doesn’t pay you attention at work?” Harry asks.

“No, god no! That would make me seem clingy and desperate for his attention and we all know that’s a relationship killer!” you laugh, leaning in towards him until your sides are pressed together comfortably.

“Who told you that?” he laughs, knocking his body into yours as he teases, “Cosmo or summat?”

You giggle at that because yes, that’s exactly where you’d gained that information even as a fully grown woman and you weren’t exactly proud to admit it, but you knew Harry wouldn’t judge you.

“But it’s true, isn’t it?” you protest. “I mean, guys hate it when girls get clingy and needy for attention and then rather than give the women what they need, they ditch her. I don’t want that to happen,” you say, your smile fading slightly at the prospect of Connor just up and leaving. You hadn’t been together long, but he was such perfection, you knew you’d do anything to keep him with you.

“Listen, love, I hate to break it to you, but only boys get scared off by that kind of thing. Men who can handle a relationship, and who are mature and willing to communicate honestly and be supportive partners are not afraid of clinginess, as long as it’s not obsessive. A good partner, man or woman, will know that satisfying their partner’s needs is vital to the health of a relationship and they won’t shy away from that, at least not if they care,” he advises, taking his time to carefully choose his words (since speaking without thinking had gotten him in so much trouble before) and trying to make it subtly clear that Connor either isn’t relationship material or doesn’t want you badly enough to be.

You just nod your head and process everything that he’s said. Though you don’t look angry, you don’t look entirely convinced either.

“Do you really think that’s true? I feel like pretty much all the guys our age are terrified of any sort of neediness or commitment. If a relationship isn’t easy or no-strings attached, then they want nothing to do with it. I don’t know how to live like that,” you whine, knowing that your voice is beginning to sound shrill and emotional, but you’re just so frustrated.

“Stop your crying, love. It’s really just a sign of the times nowadays...With online dating and hookup culture, a lot of people aren’t interested in the commitment, you’re right. So don’t start feeling all this self-pity or feeling as if you have to settle - it’s going to be hard, but not impossible. I don’t think that means that you should forgo commitment and affection just because it’s hard to find. As ‘perfect’ as Connor may be,” Harry says, doing air quotes around perfect, “he doesn’t seem capable of giving you what you want and need, and I don’t like to see you settling…” he trails off, shaking his head as he puts another piece of sushi in his mouth.

“How is being with a handsome, successful, talented, kind, interesting and fun man settling!?” you ask, completely taken by surprise. There are a lot of things you thought you were doing in a relationship with Connor - choosing responsibly namely - but settling was not one of them.

“He’s amazing, I’m not settling for him, he’s just afraid of commitment, like 99% of people our age - it’s not settling,” you continue, convincing yourself.

“Y/N,” Harry sighs, frustrated, “I know you. I know what you want and what you need and it’s definitely not a non-committal guy who is stingy with his attention and affection. You want the romance, the fairy-tale and it’s not fair to deprive yourself of that just because Connor is an impressive dude.”

“But Harry, I like him so fucking much!” you continue, knowing that Harry is probably right but refusing to believe it. “We’ve got to be able to make it work, right?”

“Only if he’s as invested in the relationship as you are and it doesn’t sound like he is,” Harry shrugs, placing a hand on your thigh in an attempt to comfort you.

Without second thought you grab his hand and squeeze it, the contact and reassurance that he will be here for you no matter what is intensely comforting.

“So, what’s going on with you lately?” you ask, trying to change the subject and brighten your thoughts.

“Not too terribly much if I’m honest, just writing a bit, went and saw the family a while ago. Been missing you a lot though,” he nods, not looking you in the eye.

“Yeah, I’ve missed you too. I’m glad we could do this, H, I really am.”

“Me too. I’m thinking of auditioning for a film and wanted to talk to you about it,” he says somewhat sheepishly.

“Oh gosh, I don’t even care what movie it is, you should definitely do it!” you reply, obviously excited for him. “You’d be so good, I know it! And if you ever wanted to practice lines, I’d totally help you. What movie is it by the way?”

“It’s actually a Christopher Nolan film - a historical thriller or something. Think it’d be fun, and different.”

“Harry, my god, if you get the part do you promise to let me meet Christopher Nolan? Like just once? I just need to tell him how amazing he is, oh my god,” you say somewhat frantic now.

“Well that’s assuming I’ll be any good. You’re awfully excited,” he teases, but smiles down on you having missed this playful happy you for so long.

“Well duh! You’re going to venture into my area of expertise! We can have so much fun talking about it. Maybe you can be in one of my films someday,” you say, eyes lighting up at the prospect of actually working with Harry.

“I’d love to do that, whether or not I get this part, love,” he says and you can’t contain your excitement.

You’d never realized that Harry was really interested in venturing into the film world, thinking he was completely content with music. But if he wanted to do this, you could actually be of some help to him and spend even more time together and it’d be great. You spend the next while telling him about all the characters you’ve dreamt up and how perfect he’d be to play like 90% of them. He can’t help but be flattered and equally as excited about his impending career adventure and the prospect of spending countless hours with you.

“I really hope I get the part, I’ll let you know when I get a script and have you help me, if you’d like,” he says almost shyly.

“Yes yes yes!” you say, bouncing on the blanket slightly. “I might have to ask a favor in return, though,” you say, a mischievous smile pulling at your lips.

“Oh? And what’s that?”

“Well actually, I might need you to do me this favor no matter what...So, I don’t know if you remember, but Alice is getting married in a few weeks…” you trail off hoping he’d fill in the blanks.

“And you want me to sing at the wedding?” he asks, laughing.

“Well no, I want you to be my date,” you mumble.

Harry’s breath catches in his throat and his mouth goes dry. He knows you probably mean nothing by it, but that sounds like both the worst and best thing he could possibly do in his current situation.

“What about Connor?” he asks, his voice tight.

“Well, I asked him, but he made up excuses. Really it’s because that’s too serious for him, but he claims it’s work or plans with friends or something. He obviously doesn’t want to go and I mean, I get it, we’ve only been together for two months and family functions like that are intense,” you finish, looking at him with big hopeful eyes.

“Y/N,” he whines, obviously frustrated with you. “Why are you dating him? Honestly, I’m just trying to be a good friend. If he were worthy of you, he would jump at the chance to go to the wedding,” he finishes, staring at you accusatorily.

“I know, I know. But he doesn’t...maybe he would eventually but the timing just doesn’t match up. He needs more time to commit and the wedding is too soon. So will you come with me?”

“Obviously,” he says, shaking his head and trying to hide a small smile.

Though he’s terribly excited to go to the wedding with you, not only because he’ll get to spend time with you all dressed up and happy and excited, but also because he hasn’t seen your family for ages and misses them almost as much as he’d missed you, he’s still slightly dreading it. The things about it that will make it so great: the family, you dressed up, the dancing, the drinking, the inevitable shows of affection will all be equally as torturous as they are fantastic. He knows in his heart of hearts that going to this wedding will not help get rid of his feelings for you, nor will it make you love him back because you’re so obviously taken with Connor. He knows that he is only digging his hole deeper and deeper - further from contentment and peace - and further in love with you. He can’t help the feelings of bittersweet anticipation of the night to come, and though he agrees happily, he fears that he’ll have yet another outburst of love for you that will be much harder to hide and disregard than his last.

“Harry, thank you so much. I know it’s kind of weird since I have a boyfriend and everyone will probably ask about him and all that, but honestly, I think I’d rather go with you. Everyone will be so excited to see you, and we can have so much fun, just like old times,” you say, smiling brightly.

“I can’t wait, love,” he agrees. “So when and where is it?”

“Well, it’s actually back in the states. Is that okay? It’s going to be quite a trip, I know, but it’ll be like a little vacation or something!” you say enthusiastically.

“Yeah, that’s totally fine, love, I’ve been meaning to go back there soon anyway. When is it?”

“It’s in three weeks. I know it’s super late notice, I guess I just really thought I’d be able to convince Connor to come and you might not want to.”

“That’s fine, I’ll make some calls, yeah?” he asks, wanting to do everything he can do to make this easy and good for you - he wants you to enjoy spending time with him as much as he does with you.

“You really don’t have to do that, Harry, I’ve been saving up, we can just buy some last minute tickets or something,” you say dismissively, never one to take advantage of Harry and his wealth or connections.

“Come on, you’re the one who said to make it like a little vacation! So let’s do that! I’ll get a plane and a place to stay and we’ll go all out!” he says, knowing that he really shouldn’t treat this as a romantic getaway but can’t really help himself.

“Are you sure, H?”

“Absolutely,” he says sternly.

You simply nod and continue eating your lunch, content with the sunshine on your face, Harry by your side and the view of the London skyline all around you. Harry’s a bit more conflicted as he sits beside you doing everything he can to keep himself from holding your hand or trying to kiss you. His mind is reeling with all the possibilities of the next few weeks - the wedding would provide so much opportunity - opportunity to push Connor from your mind, to make you see how much you actually want to be with Harry, to prove to you that he’s the one you’ve been waiting for all these years. And yet, these ideas reek with the possibility of ruining your friendship forever. He wishes that he could just tell you, tell you how he feels and that he understands that you might not feel the same, but he needed to get this off his chest. But as close as the two of you are, your friendship is on rocky grounds. You two really don’t talk enough - you talk about everything really, from work to school to friends and romantic partners, but never about feelings towards each other. He’s sure, absolutely positive, that you’ve had a thing for him before, that you wanted him almost as badly as he currently wants you, and you had to suffer and push it all away because he was so busy and unavailable. And now, your feelings are gone and his are here in full force, but he’s incapable of communicating that to you, and honestly you’d be incapable of hearing it, at least without making a silly decision and possibly ruining everything. Real emotions have never been either of your strong suits and there’s no reason you’d start now.

We never learn, we’ve been here before.

Why are we always stuck and running from

the bullets? The bullets.

No matter what Harry wishes were true, the truth is that the two of you are constantly shifting back and forth between miscommunications and ‘almost’ chances of being together. And instead of capitalizing on your wish-washy feelings for each other, one or the other of you will make a mess out of it, say something stupid and cruel, and send you both back to square one. Something tells Harry though, as he’s sitting here admiring the city with you, that this time, he won’t be able to contain his feelings much longer. That he’s going to say something to you that is either going to make him the happiest man in the world or ruin him.

We don’t talk enough.

We should open up.

Before it’s all too much.

Will we ever learn? We’ve been here before.

It’s just what we know.

Harry’s tired of it, tired of the confusion and the pain and having to restrain himself. He knows that he’s going to break at the wedding, he just knows it, but he doesn’t know how or when or if he even wants to end this game and find out the truth. It might just hurt too much.

We gotta get away from here.

Stop your crying, baby.

It’ll be alright.

They told me that the end is near.

We gotta get away from here.

As the two of you sit in silence, Harry’s mind continues to wander, up and away. He imagines the 12 hour plane ride from London to your small west coast town. He imagines being there with you next to him, looking down on the world as if none of it matters and it’s just the two of you. He imagines a world in which the two of you are together and content - that’s the kind of world he could happily live in. In that moment he makes a pact with himself to tell you everything at the wedding. The thoughts of the potential benefits of laying everything out on the table are too enticing to ignore. Having recovered from your last fight well enough, Harry thinks that maybe, even if you don’t feel the same way, time will fix the wounds that telling you would inflict. The rejection, the loss of you, it would all be impossible to bear, but eventually he might be alright. And if it goes well, the rest of his life could be made - this could be the key to his happiness, and hopefully yours as well, and he’s at the end of his rope - he can’t hold back any longer. He nods to himself as he makes this personal resolution, eyes drinking you in while yours are closed enjoying the warmth of the day. His days with you like this may be numbered and he’s sure as hell going to enjoy them.

Just stop your crying,

Have the time of your life.

Breaking through the atmosphere,

And things are pretty good from here.

Remember everything will be alright.

We can meet again somewhere.

Somewhere far away from here.

“What you thinking about?” you ask abruptly, shaking him from his daydreams of a perfect life with you by his side.

“Oh nothing, really, just how fun the wedding will be!” he says, not entirely lying.

“I really can’t wait, H! It’s going to be so much fun seeing Alice get married, and spending all that time with you, it’ll be perfect - just what I need. I need to get away from here for a while and I’m so glad I get to bring you with me,” you smile, leaning your head on his shoulder and taking in the view.

He leans down, pressing a chaste kiss to your forehead before resting his head upon yours and already rehearsing exactly what he’s going to say to you in a few weeks time. He’s piecing together all the best ways to tell you he loves you. He reminisces on the way you’ve always been there for him the past couple of years, the way he’s completely himself when he’s around you. He’s thought about admitting that Sweet Creature is really written about you, not Gemma. He’s convinced that he should make a big elaborate plan to confess his feelings, because sometimes he’s just a big and elaborate guy. But he knows you like simplicity, and intimacy, and honest and open communication no matter how difficult that is, and he reins himself in, knowing he has the time to plan all this out perfectly, to win your heart the way he always should have. Only time will tell if his plan will work, or if ultimately, life will get the better of him.

#harry smut #harry fluff #harry styles #harry #harry styles fanfiction #one direction #one direction fanfiction #one direction imagine #harry styles imagine #pink series #sign of the times #sott #harry styles fanfiction series #harry styles imagine series #harry fanfiction series #harry imagine series #harry fanfiction #harry imagine

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drunkenonmysofa · 7 years

Text

BASS & BUBBLEGUM [POPSTAR!Y/N AU] - PART FOUR

++mobile masterlist +b&b masterpost

parts; (one) (two) (three) (four) (five) (six

summary: you’re a world-famous pop star which everyone learned to either love or hate. when a video of you making out with 5 seconds of summer’s bassist leaks, your management decides to make it seem like you’re dating calum.

word count: 3,594

warnings: none that i know of

author’s note: i like this series so far!!! but tbh this part felt so rushed im creasing at my badd grammar but anyways i feel like i made y/n into an asshole lol uhhhhh enjoy??!!?? (i still dont know how to end these things)

A good night’s sleep is what usually prevented you from short temper. When your management told you that you could have a five-month break from touring to write your songs for the next album, you were ecstatic. Especially since this meant you could sleep as long as you want on most days of the week.

Despite nothing interesting happening in your life, you found yourself always inspired so that you could write songs for your album. Even though in the long run, your producer would dub it as too vulnerable for your pop insignia, the sugar-coated version of the phrase, ‘it’s absolute shit’. This never stopped you from writing your own material, though. It was discouraging at times, but you had to admit that it was fun recording pre-written songs that you came to like.

The whole writing process involved famous song writers that wrote solely pop music. Sometimes, if Lancelot was feeling generous, he’d let you write with them. Most of the time, the writers were incredibly thankful for your ability to create songs that made their jobs easier for them. The fact of the matter is, the lyrics were either too political or ‘edgy’ for a popstar to sing, and the song ends up getting trashed.

Occurrences like those make you want to either cry or walk out of the studio in anger, but you had to stomach it in since you’ve already signed the contract that held you in the management for another two years. Maybe then you’d make the music you’ve always wanted to make.

After the fight with Calum, he didn’t make an effort explain why he said those nasty things, more so on what he was ‘bitter’ about, but you weren’t really surprised. What’s surprising you is that Nina called you to go to the studio with 5 Seconds of Summer to co-write and record one of the songs that’s going to be their next single. Apparently, you were going to be singing with them, too.

“I don’t think I can.” Call it childish, but you try to make yourself sound sick anyways, coughing right after you finish your sentence. You couldn’t look at Calum, not after everything that’s happened a few days ago. “I’m sick.”

“No you’re not.” Nina sighed through the phone, immediately calling your bluff. “That’s not how you sound like when you’re sick.”

You groaned. “Let me rephrase, I don’t want to. I’m sick of Calum.”

“Well, you can ignore him. You can talk to the other boys, I’m sure they’re nice.” Nina said, trying to convince you to go. “It’ll be good PR. Your fans would love the new song. You can come by the studio after lunch.”

“I’m releasing an album in five months. They can wait.”

You could sense Nina’s annoyance radiating from the phone pressed against your ear. “You can write whatever you want for the song. Just see if the band likes it.” She said, her tone deflated and defeated.

Relatively, you rolled your eyes at it, but you can’t help but feel a little pity. “Fine, just this once.” And besides, writing was one of the favorite things you did, so why not give it a try?

Even though you still didn’t want to be in the same room as Calum Hood, you were happy to meet his band mates. Ignoring the thought that they might be just like Calum, you enter the recording studio of the band with a smile on your face and a cup of warm coffee in your hand. The excitement of writing with other people and other producers always overcame your pessimist thinking, making Calum the last thing in your head right now.

As you walked to the door of the studio, you could hear the laughing of guys on the other side. You could almost see them through the fogged glass doors. Nevertheless, you knocked so at least they would know that you’re about to enter. As you opened the door, the band’s laughing quieted down, noticing your arrival.

“Y/N Y/L/N!” The one with curly, light brown hair, Ashton, said before standing up from the couch and shaking your hand. He smiled with the smile that you always saw in his pictures. “It’s nice to see you! We really love your music.”

You blushed, smiling at his compliment. “Thank you, really. I love your band’s music too.”

Looking around the rather spacious studio, you noticed that you’re not the only girl here. There’s another three that you don’t quite know, but you smile at them anyways and they return their gorgeous smiles to you. As Michael and Luke introduced themselves and joined you and Ashton’s conversation, you notice that Calum isn’t here.

Michael must’ve noticed you looking around the room in search of a certain Maori. “Calum went out to get some food, by the way.”

You nodded in acknowledgement, sitting on the wide sofa and the other boys followed suit.. “Shall we start?”

“Calum usually needs to be here since he’s the main writer of the band.” Luke said, looking up from his phone briefly before returning his gaze back to the device.

“Yeah, we kinda need to wait for him, if that’s okay with you?” Ashton asked. It baffles you how nice they were compared to Calum. If he spent most of his time with them then why wouldn’t he inherit their kindness? But you don’t think much of it. Instead, you nodded at Ashton’s question, reassuring him that it’s no problem.

“And you haven’t met the other girls yet!” Michael said, overly enthusiastic about the fact that you’re here. He gently tugs at your wrists to make you stand up from the couch and walks you over to the other end of the room where the three girls are. “This is Bryana, Ashton’s girlfriend,” He lets go of your wrist to point at the girl you thought was gorgeous enough to be a model. You smiled at her as she stood up and wrapped her arms around you.

“Hey! You’re so much prettier in person!” Bryana said, her arms hugging you firmly before letting you go and sitting back down with a bright smile on her face.

“Thank you so much.” You blushed at her compliment. “You’re a lot mire prettier than me, though.”

Before Bryana could reply, the girl beside her with colorful hair stood up and briefly hugged you, too. “Hi! My name is Arzaylea.” She shook your hand with a soft smile on her face. “That lanky blonde is my boyfriend.” She said before pointing to Luke, who was still stuck to his phone. “And Bryana is so right, you’re so pretty.” Arzaylea complimented, sitting back down next to the other girls.

You couldn’t help but blush at her compliment. Michael walked over to the last girl, giving her a peck on the cheek before introducing her. “This is Crystal, the absolute love of my life.” He said, smiling at her.

Crystal playfully pinched his cheeks before standing up and shaking your hand, a lot more laid back than the other girls. “I’m Crystal, nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you girls, too.” You said, addressing the three of them as you shook her hand.

After a few minutes of small talk, you decide to go back to where the other boys were, striking up a conversation on how they want the song to sound like. You knew they relied heavily on lyrics and instruments rather than electronic music, you honestly envied them, but since you were writing a song with them, you figured you were going to know the basics.

“Do you play guitar?” Michael asked, taking an acoustic guitar that was on a wall stand and handing it out to you.

“Yeah, I’m a bit rusty, though.” You shyly replied, taking the guitar by the neck and resting it on your lap.

“We usually start with a tune and build from there.” Michael said, sitting down next to you. “But we need a theme first.”

“A theme?” You question, wanting them to explain further.

“Yeah! Like, a city or unrequited love. Y'know, the works.” Luke speaks up and puts down his phone. “Maybe we can try a breakup this time.” Michael and Ashton agree and asked for your input. You replied with an ‘I think I can do that’ before they’re reminded that Calum needed to be here and they reserve the songwriting for a few more minutes.

You smile, fiddling with the guitar and trying out a few chords before the boys talk about how amazing their upcoming album is going to be. “How many songs have you written so far?”

“Twelve.” You hear Calum’s voice say as he’s walking into the room, tossing everyone, including the three girls who are engaged in a conversation about a TV show, a burrito from what looked like Chipotle. You hear a chorus of thank you’s from around the room before he’s facing you and handing out a burrito in front of you. “You want some?”

You face contorted in confusion before giving him an answer. “Yeah… thanks.” Hesitantly taking the burrito out of his hands, you can’t help but shoot him a look of confusion before awkwardly averting your gaze. You don’t catch his reaction and suddenly, you feel your excitement for the writing drop in the sight of him. “Uh… can we start?” You quietly asked Ashton as he’s about to bite into his meal.

“You’re not gonna eat?” He replied to you with a question, biting into his burrito anyways and gesturing you to take a bite.

No, I’ve quite lost my appetite. “Maybe later.” You said, feeling Calum’s gaze on you as you try and shrug it off by playing a few chords on the guitar on your lap. Ignorance seemed to be bliss as you tried to not be bothered by his presence.

“I’ll help you get started.” Your head perked up to Calum, who was seated on the sofa chair a few feet from you. His face held a soft smile, one that you’ve never seen in person before, and this made you quite speechless. A few seconds of awkward silence between you passed before Calum sat next to you, everyone oblivious to what was happening as they were too engaged in their own conversations.

You, however, wanted to run out of the room as soon as Calum had the balls to sit next to you after everything that’s happened. But you try to bury the thought at the back of your head, thinking about how good for business this is and it was nothing personal.

Sighing, you turned around and faced him, the acoustic guitar still in your hands and a half-hearted smile on your face. “Okay.”

There you are again with that word, Calum thought. He didn’t know what was going on with you, but he’d already apologized. What else did you want? Still, he took the notebook off the desk and started flipping through the notes. After finding the right page, he held out the black notebook to you rather hesitantly, feeling a little insecure on sharing his writings to people other than his best mates. Especially you. “It’s… still unfinished and the chord progressions are all wrong. All I’ve got so far is the first verse. I don’t even have a title yet.”

You took the black notebook from him, reading the lyrics in his messy but fathomable handwriting. Your stoic face slowly turned into a small smile as you read his lyrics. “You wrote this?” You glance at Calum before returning your gaze back to the notebook. “This is amazing.”

Calum gives you a tight-lipped smile. “Thanks.” He said before asking you if you could add a few more lyrics.

“I think so,” You said, resting the guitar on the coffee table. “Do you have a pen?”

Calum nodded slightly before giving you the pen he retrieved from the pocket of his black ripped jeans.

This time, you don’t hesitate to take the pen from him, jotting down a few lyrics in a hurry as you noticed Calum struggling to look at what you’re writing. In the heat of the moment, you scoot closer to him, almost immediately feeling the warmness of his sweater-clad body. What you didn’t notice, is that Calum tensed up as you made contact with his physical body since the last time you saw each other. “So you’ll see the notes better.”

No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t stop staring at you. How some of your hair fell on your face when you eyed the notebook in concentration, the way you would poke out your tongue at the corners of your mouth, and at how pretty you looked in the studio’s dim lighting.

It wasn’t until both of you were half-blinded by a flash that Calum broke his gaze off you.

“Mate, what the fuck?” Calum said, irritated at the pale, blonde boy sitting on the couch across him. “Did you just take a picture?” He inquired before shooting Michael a look as he laughed along with Ashton.

“Some PR stunt,” Michael nudged Ashton, making him laugh once more. “Adam’s gonna love this.” Michael said before posting the picture of you two on Instagram.

On the other hand, you were practically oblivious as to what was happening. While the three boys, Luke, Michael and Ashton, chuckled as they looked at Michael’s phone, Calum was shooting glares at the boys. This eventually bought you back to reality, realizing that you were so close to Calum that if he turned to face you, he would be inches from kissing you like he did in the video that started it all.

So you jolted up, immediately feeling heat rush to your cheeks as you put down the pen and notebook on the coffee table in a hurry. “I’m going for a walk.” Grabbing the coat off the rack, you quickly exited the studio, leaving the remaining people in the studio speechless.

“I’ll talk to her.” Calum said aloud before following after you.

You chose to keep walking away from the building, lucky enough to have no fans outside the studio. You chose to keep walking away even though you heard fast footsteps behind you. You especially chose to keep walking away when the person called your name in attempt of getting your attention.

“Y/N, please. Just come back to the studio.”

The tone of his voice makes you walk even faster, the urge to just avoid him growing stronger. It wasn’t until he was walking next to you that you stopped. “What are you doing?”

“Walking with you.” Calum didn’t stop walking until he noticed you halt, turning back slightly to meet your cautious eyes. “Are you coming?” The Maori held his hand out, his brown skin looking a little bit more golden in the presence of sunlight. You’re stuck wracking your mind on whether you should take his hand or not, still somewhat awkward with the thought of talking to him after everything that’s happened in the car.

It’s got you thinking that maybe you were overreacting, that it was just plain teasing and that you should accept his apology. But could you? You didn’t know Calum very well in the first place. For him to act like a total asshole to you on the first ‘date’ surely changed your opinion of him. You didn’t know if he’d try that shit again or not in the future.

Instead of taking his hand, you ask him one question that’s been in your head for a long time. “What happened at Josh’s party?”

“I’ll tell you if you’ll walk with me.”

The smile on his face reassures you that he’s telling the truth, so you take a chance. But you don’t take his hand, proceeding to walk next to him instead. Still, the smile remains on his face because he got you to agree, his hand falling to his side as he started slowly walking on the sidewalk. Luckily, the studio was located somewhere in the suburban part of L.A., making it easier for the both of you to talk without fans interrupting.

“So?” You looked up from your gaze on the asphalt ground to meet his brown eyes. “You gonna tell me or what?”

Calum tore the eye contact between the two of you, making an expression that you considered as disgruntlement. “I don’t know if you’ll freak out like you did last time.”

“If you don’t insult me then I might not.” You said with a slight twinge of sarcasm lacing your voice.

“We were both high when we went up to Josh’s room.” Calum started, making you somewhat nervous based on the tone of his voice. “It looked like you were already tipsy before I even introduced myself. We went to the couches and smoked some weed. Then we went upstairs because you said you wanted to sleep.”

You huffed. “The video. We were making out. How did that happen?”

“You really don’t know what happened?” Calum raised his eyebrow at your inquisition. “You pulled me upstairs and started kissing me.”

“That doesn’t sound like me.”

Calum squinted at the light of the sun that was shining in his face. At this point, he didn’t know if he was getting annoyed at the sun or at you for not recalling a single thing that occurred that night. “Yeah. I didn’t know the door was unlocked. That’s why the video leaked.”

“And what happened after?”

The question hangs around the air for a few seconds before Calum hesitantly answering. “You passed out while we were still making out. Then I left. Nothing happened between us, don’t worry.”

His hesitance and delayed answer made you wonder if he was telling the truth or keeping something from you. “Is that all?”

Then he smiled and nodded slightly, figuring that you could find out more in the right time. Both of you had to go back to the studio anyways. “That’s all.” He said, intentionally keeping the memory of you drunkenly telling him that you thought the songs he wrote was, quote on quote, something that no one can take seriously along with other words that threw daggers in his chest. But still, it was just words. He needed to get over it anyways. Right?

After Calum told you that the both of you should get back to the studio, you agreed. In the midst of walking, a title for the song that you’ve been writing with him popped up in your head. “I know what the title of the song should be.” You told Calum, glancing at him for a mere second. “Broken Pieces seems to be a good one.”

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