#why not make all men as beautiful and cool like slash is??
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Rayleigh x reader
18+ ,NSFW, p0rn with plot, Face-fucking,Face-sitting, slight tying up, bit of dom x sub, only other thing i can list on is cum.
Well toned back, glistening in sweat and dirt, his muscles bulging with each slash he made, the way his muscles tensed as he prepared for another jab sent a plesant tingle down your spine, you bit your nail stuck in a trance like state watching him.
Sweat trickling down his back, it looked like he was sprayed with massage oil, the way his skin shined, your eyes slowly dropping to his waist checking out every muscle on his body a human eye could possible observe, his trained muscles showcased his v-line all the way from the back hazing your mind with drunk passion.
He had little dimples on the very end of his back making you question how good theyd look while hes hovering over you.
The sun was scorching that day, whoever wore shirts tossed them away within minutes, leaving you to watch a sea of shirtless men training.
It was like a dream come true for a woman your age.
"Mmhn~" you groaned frustrated with how easily you can get distracted, not like youre to blame. You had trained days prior leaving you to laze in the shade as you watched the delicious men do their thing.
One by one they started taking breaks which was your cue to go take a dip before they got too close.
Wearing a bikini and a very fitting see through robe you lowered it letting it sit on your waist as you waited for a specific man to come.
His body shimmering, clothes drenched he approached you taking a drink of water with a loud exhale.
"Going for a swim already?" he asked wiping the sweat from his brow, his entire complexion stretching.
Fuck.
"Only fair right, cant get a heatstroke now can i?" you dropped your mesh robe expsoing your cute butt.
Raighleys eyes trailed you slowly taking in every inch of your body aswell as beauty.
He appriciated your looks from a distance as always never daring to step closer to you. Your tan body never leaving his sight as your frame slowly dissapearded in the sea.
"Inspecting the goods again vice-capitan?" a crewman laughed teasing him. He only closed his eyes half smirking at the remark.
"Shoulda seen the way she was looking at me. Like a hawk that woman." He took another sip, sitting on your beach chair trailing his abs with your robe as a towel.
He smirked feeling the fabric alone, such skimpy garments, where do they make these?
After a good cool dip you stepped out drying your hair on the way back. Water leaving a trail in the sand where you once walked.
"Hows the water?" Raighley asked your robe scrunched up in his lap.
"Amazing." You spoke squeezing out the water from your swimsuits top, water trickling down your waist.
This didnt go unnoticed as the foxy man now had his chance to take you in.
The turmoil you caused in his body could only be described as setting an house of fire.
"You'll get cold." He offered the robe he used to wipe his sweat with back to you.
You noticed it being wet in a couple of spots asking the blonde man why
"Dont know, picked it up that way, any problem with it?" he smiled through his teeth knowing all too well what he did with it.
Skimpy garment on he couldnt hold back to think "Atta girl."
"For the record it smells funny, you defenetly did something with it." You could just feel the scent of sweat on you such an odd yet intoxicating smell.
"Didnt touch it." He put his hands behind his back resting in the cool shade, his abs flexing slightly as he found a comfy spot, his chest in full view to you.
You smiled looking down at him, taking your drink that laid beside him, covering your chest with your hand.
Such sweet tension the two of you had, silent yearning for eachothers presence, body, mind.
"LETS TAKE A DIP!" Roger shouted behind you stripping naked as he ran to the sea.
Raighley rose up dropping his garments aswell as did everyone a line of men stark naked as babies running for it full speed.
You laughed sipping your drink as you inspected the belt he dropped aside.
You grabbed it knowing the gentleman wouldnt mind, and pulled it around your waist tightening it so it sat low on your body.
You spent the entire day till evening wearing it.
As night came it was time to turn in, body aching for contact you laid on your bed pondering wether to enjoy yourself.
A knock on the door startled you, a large tone frame excusing themselves stepped in.
"Hopefully i didnt disturb you." he shut the door leaving a small crack from it actually being closed.
"I dont mind, youre welcome anytime Raighley." You sat back on your bed arms behind your body as you relaxed.
There was a long pause, more like a silent stare down between you two, his half dressed body in nothing but shorts and loose shirt versus yours in a different set of garments still wearing the same robe and belt you took from the man infront of you.
"You have something for me?" he piqued generouslly looking down to your body.
"Do i?" playing dumb you gave him dove eyes crossing your legs seductivley.
He smirked stepping closer to you, he lowered himself eye level to you, his hands resting on the bed emprisoning you in his strong arms. You stayed still watching him with the same relaxed tone his slanted eyes slightly frustrated.
His arm streched towards your waist tugging on the belt your body dragged along space growing even less so.
You closed your eyes hand reaching for his cheek as you placed a sweet prolonged kiss on the corner of lips earning a gentle sigh from him.
He kissed back gently the grasp on your waist lessning as it moved to the small of your back, resting you on the bed with care.
You smiled rubbing small circles on his cheek your thumb under his glasses.
He took your hand placing a small kiss onto it, trailing it down your arm slowly.
He scraped off your robe placing tiny kisses on your shoulders tickling your skin.
"Raighley.." you giggled your neck shrugging from the sensation. He smiled bumping heads with you as he continued layering kisses down your body stopping at the waist here his belt was at.
His hands pulled at it, a tiny yelp coming from you as you felt your body tugged on once more. His strong calloused hand reached to unbuckle it before you could even realise.
He swiftly yanked, the leather making a loud pop as it hit itself. He grabbed your wrists straddling you, your face watching him intently before you realised what he had done, a shamefull blush sitting on your cheekbones.
He looped the buckle around one of your wrists, tightening it to the frame of the bed to secure your hand in place, his body hovering above yours you used your free hand to move to his pants, dipping your fingers slightly below the elastic.
"Ah ah~" he denied your longing touch with a warning , his eyes focused as he looked down on you. He had a mishevous grin on his face the entire time.
He scooted closer, his hips centimeters away from your face. What a pervert.
Blood rushed through your cheeks as you tried your best not to breathe too heavily, slow ragged breaths coming from your mouth you saw his member twitching inside his pants.
You held your breath altough you needed to breathe eventually. His loose shirt hovered in the air giving you the best possible view of his happy trail along his lower abs.
"Fuck.." you whsipered to yourself squeezing your legs to comfort the tension in your underwear.
"Liking the view?" he teased you, further making fun of how red you were just from eye fucking him, he tightened your free arm to the frame restricting all movements of your hands.
He bucked his hips slightly the base of his shaft rubbing against your nose.
He smelled so fresh you could tell he took care of himself well, and his cock was so warm it made you feel tingles.
"Lets make sure you understand something." he moved a bit back undoing the zipper of his pants. "If you do anything against what i say," he pressed on his lower abdomen outlining the shape of his cock, "I might have to get harsh with you." you swallowed mouth watering at the sight alone. Stretching the fabric of his underwear he pointed the tip of his cock to your lips, you squirmed under him unable to help you relieve any more of the growing arousal in your panties.
"Understood?" the lightly tapped his clothed dick against your lips fully commited for his words, the look in his eyes made you weak, he was enjoying himself so much.
Your mind was going hazy, the control he had over you drove you mad with want for him, and he knew it, you had to submit.
"Yes.." you whispered against his cock. He paused grabbing your face and squeezing your cheeks.
"Wanna try again?" He drew lazy strokes side to side with his cock against your partialy open mouth.
You had a look of shame to you, you enjoyed this too much. You looked at him through your lashes your eyes sparkling in the dimly lit room.
"Yessir..." The hold he had on your mouth made it harder to voice it out. His smirk grew once he heard you, he pressed a bit stronger against your lips antagonizing himself in the process, making you feel the bump from the transition to his tip to his thick shaft.
He slightly chuckled seeing the drool forming in your mouth.
You bucked your hips against thin air rocking him off balance, he caught himself quickly, his thumb stretching your upper lip to your gums revealing your teeth.
You decided to stick your mouth open a bit for him showing him your slutty side.
"Atta girl~" he praised you making your heart flutter at the words. He tapped his clothed cock against your tongue, wetting the fabric.
You could feel him twitch again, fuck what a tease this man was.
"You’re loving this aren’t you, having my cock in your mouth like this?"
You moan against his warmth, his dark eyes watching you like a hawk, he had an aura to him, a dominant, slightly sadistic and intrigued air which you couldn’t hold your own against.
He indulged himself a while longer, watching how your slutty, drool covered lips begged to touch more of him. The wet fabric around his cock stretched skin tight around him, you couldn’t help to stare at his happy trail.
He rose up his shirt exposing the dark blonde hairs on his lower abs, your eyes softened as you gently nipped the fabric of his boxers holding them between your teeth.
You let them go with a slight yank the boxers popping back onto his stiff cock. He quirked a brow with a slight chuckle, he let go of the hand he held your mouth open tracing his fingers on his lower abs, he partially took off his boxers lying them low on his ass, his cock sprung free bouncing before your face, you examined it, unable to hide your smile at the view.
He had a thick vein running down the side of it , it coiled around his cock beautifully. The tip of his cock was a darker tan than his skin nearly matching his lips.
Your breath stuttered your legs clashing against one another. He guided himself closer to you, lips brushing against it you swallowed thickly.
‘‘You think you can take it?’‘ Raighley had a cocky grin on his face as he brushed a strand of your hair away from your face. He saw you looking at him desperatley wanting his attention to which he payed no mind, he shot you a quick glance your heart burning with need.
You rolled your eyes slightly feeling his touch on your face.
‘‘Play nice now alright?’‘ He looked at you with a fondness before his face turned a little darker and his voice raspier as he hovered above you. ‘‘Otherwise you’ll take it all.’‘ You knew what he meant.
You nodded your head inching closer to take him in your mouth, he cursed out silently watching his cock disappear in your mouth, ‘’ Fuck’’ he growled watching you bob your head against his hips saliva coating his shaft pooling at the base of it as it slowly trickled down to your chest.
You were gentle as he said slowly sucking him, you could feel very vein and bump on his cock with your tongue, you carefully lolled the muscle around the back of his cock making him twitch inside you.
His breath stuttered a bit abs clenching he relished in the pleasure.
He started rolling his hips slowly against your mouth, his tip often reaching the back of your throat. ‘’You’re doing great~’’ he panted the scrunch in his brows showing how much he enjoyed your mouth.
With a sense of gratification , sharp pain hit the back of your throat as he pushed himself a little too deep inside you, tears stinging your eyes slightly. You closed your eyes edging him on with your tongue, you slipped away from him, licking his tip along the centre down to the curve where it ended.
A low grunt escaped his lips as he threw his head back, the knot in his lower stomach tingling each time your tongue drove to over-simulate his tip.
His breaths were ragged, his hand moving subconciously to fill your mouth with himself once more. He bucked his hips deeper agaisnt you, his lower stomach lightly brushing against your nose as you took most of him.
A moan filled your mouth, pleasantly sending shivers down his shaft.
He smirked leaning over you, hand on the bed frame, you could catch a breathtaking view of his body once more, his abs shimmered with sweat, his cheast rising unevenly.
You smiled to yourself knowing you made him feel this way. Inching closer to him, your nose pressed flush against the hair on his lower abs, taking all of him inside your mouth you slightly bobbed your head side to side trying to fit more and more of him inside.
To say he was startled was an under statement, his love drunk smile rose higher the veins on his cock throbbing in pleasure as he stared at your stuffed mouth.
You pulled away a thick strand of drool dripping between your lips and the sides of his cock you looked at the man, noticing his ragged form you knew how good of a job you did with him. ‘’That wasn’t fair now was it?’’ he took a handful of your hair, he had a certain danger to his eyes that you loved.
Your heart pounded against your chest, you gave him a weak smile.
‘‘You’re such a slut “ he snarked, your chest tingling at the fact you disobeyed him.
You knew you’re in it now, he waisted little time brushing his cock against your lips he proceed to throat fuck you. The sight of his dick bulging in your throat as you gasped for air was the sluttiest thing you could ever give him a sight of. Tears drenching your eyes as you struggled for him, his rough panting before you, the way you slid your tongue out to stroke the swell of his bulge.
He groaned and panted, slurring his praises for you the more he fucked your mouth, your tongue sucking on the sweet spot between his shaft and groin.
He lowered his head not able to keep his pace the more his stomach knotted. Your mouth tightened trying to swallow the saliva that built up instead you recieved a loud husky groan his cock dragging lazily inside your mouth,he bottomed out, cum spurting down your throat.
Surprised you swallowed the thick liquids, looking up at him, your eyes meeting with his, his expression was priceless, fucked out of his mind, saliva lightly coating the corner of his lips as he wiped it away. The cut on his eyes glistening with sweat that coated his brow.
‘‘Fuck..“ he pulled out of you, wiping off the drool and tears on your face.
He untied the belts holding you, the friction had made your wrists red. You rubbed them relishing the feeling.
Raighley’s face lowered next to yours, a gravely whisper in your ear spoke “You took me so well~’’. He kissed your ear, his beard gently scratching against your side you leaned into his touch.
‘‘Let me repay you..” he cupped your face, his slanted brown eyes turned soft as he kissed the mouth he had just came in. You burrowed your hands in his hair. He pulled you up to sit eye level with him. His strong hands trailing your body slowly. You kept grinding against him, unable to have enough.
His teeth lightly nipped your lower lip, tugging on it, you arched your chest against his your lip coming back with a light pop. You mewled ‘’I need you.. “ hugging his head which rested in the crook of your neck, biting your skin.
He hummed, lightly smiling against you , his thumb trailing under your jaw, he kissed between where your collarbones met.
Wanting to appriciate you for how good you were to him. He lazily squeezed your body grinding it against his own, leaving a haze of kisses everywhere his lips traveled.
"Please.. sir" you whimpered your nipples rubbing against his shirt.
He growled against your skin biting harder than before making you yelp. You shouldnt be doing this to him even though he asked to be called this, each time you did it felt like you were trying to provoke a mad animal.
He backed away from you and took off his shirt, leaving you to admire his tanned skin you drooled over before at the beach.
"You were eye-fucking me before." his fingers laced around your chest dropping your body a bit lower he sucked on your nipple switching between the two every so often.
You bit your lip, the feeling of being found out even if he had his back towards you made your face redder than before.
"Dont be shy now, you certainly werent before." He sucked harder your hips automatically buckling against his, he was still hard, your skin felt feverish where his cock touched you, he just came so how is he harder than before.
"You looked hot.. I couldn't help it." you admited staring into the wall, his eyes traled up to watch yours, his mouth still sucking on your perky buds.
"Liar." He gently bit your nipple, your hand clasping the back of his head you pulled his hair.
You moaned struggling to decide wether to pull him away or pull him closer. "You know how i know?" he continued breathless kisses trailing your torso, his beard tickling your neck. "I've heard you. The way you moan my name." the foxy man kept messing with your head.
"Begging for me." He continued, your body growing more excited each time he opened his mouth to share his secrets.
"Each night." He kissed your neck running yet another shiver on your heaving body. His eyes tracing your face made you want to bury yourself six feet deep.
You hid yourself in the crook of his neck body flaring red. His hands gently stroked your back brushing your hair away.
"How about you make it all true?" you whispered to yourself silently enough that if he payed attention he'd heart it.
Raighley smirked looking at you through thin lashes, you grew a bit nervous from that, everytime he looked at you it startled you.
He laid down on the bed his hands reaching for yours, "Come." He ushered you as you kneed your way over, straddling him. "Closer.." he kept pulling you forward.
"Sit on my face." his arms held onto yours as you took in what you just heard.
"Are you sure?"
"Positive, come." He wasnt wasting his breath with this one he didnt want to keep you waiting.
You spread your legs lowering yourself over him, still not fully seated onto him.
He pulled you in fully, large hands cupping your ass, his mouth making contact with your slick entrance you moaned blisfully feeling the warmth of his tongue lapping up your juices.
You grinded against him slowly hearing the squelching noises come from down below, he licked you all over making sure he tasted all of you. He kissed your lips, the beautiful pink insides of your entrance, he couldnt wait to tease you with his tongue.
He ate you out with such passion it made your knees feel weak after just a short while, his tongue flickered against your clit rubbing it and twirling around it as he kissed all over it.
You moaned his name grinding further into his handsome face, his own hips bucking against the air every now and then.
"Fuck you feel so good.." you kept praising him unsure when you ended your little roleplay.
He smacked your ass in affirmation, tongue prodding inside your walls as you mewled for more. He circled his tongue in and out slurping on your juices each time you rode his face.
He held you still for a moment burrowing his face agaisnt your pussy, his stripy beard shining with your arousal.
You whispered profanities the more he went down on you telling him just how good he made you feel.
"Fuck right there, righht there Raighley.." you whimpered grinding your hips against his face, his tongue flicking against your clit feverishly.
Your hips kept twitching, thighs shaking as you felt the constant stimulation accompanied by his smacks ,your ass red with prints of his hands.
He fondled your ass lightly pushing you forward so he could drink all of you. You felt like exploding, you grabbed onto the bedframe Raighleys hands cupping you close to him as you panted with heavy breaths mewling his name each time.
"I-can't..-" you stuttered your breath trying to hold out the pleasure you were recieving, his calloused hands gently trailing the undersides of your thighs gripping on them every so often.
He hummed against your heat, mouth glued onto you core as he suckled the sensetive bud unable to get enough of your taste.
Your hips trembled nonstop until he pushed his head closer to you, his nose tighly pressed against pussy his tongue licked you, slurping your juices till you came, he took his time cleaning you up kissing and suckling each bit of your lower body before you pulled away from him unable to handle more.
The both of you panted catching your breaths you straddled the blonde once more taking the luxury to taste yourself on his lips.
"Mm, now were even." you spoke breathlessy against his lips as you lowered down to his hips, ass meeting with a wet sploch.
He smirked eyes half lidded, enjoying his own after glow. His chest painted in white strands of cum. You couldnt belive that he came from eating you out.
You licked your lips kissing and licking up each spot on his chest where he had came, his body tensing under your touch, a shameful blush sitting on his cheeks.
"Fuck me.." He mumbled covering his face.
#onepiece#onepiece x reader#one piece fanfiction#onepiece raighley#raighley x reader#onepiecestories#one piece smut#onepiecensfw#rayleigh x reader#silvers rayleigh#dark king rayleigh
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Chapter Twenty
Yiorgos, our taxi driver, chugs up the driveway with his boot stuffed full of cases and bags. It is hot already, even though he told us that the winter drew on longer than normal this year, but now the summer seems to have come early, completely swallowing up the spring. The Cypriot heat is bone dry today, and when we step out of the car and take our cases with us, a haze of dust from the path rises into the air and leaves a thin film on my sandals. The sun is sharp edged on the stone of this old building, and a scallop shaped bird bath in the garden has dried up. I run my fingers through the ridges of warm stone as Yiorgos hauls all of Claire’s bags out onto the ground, and gaze out towards the horizon from this vantage point, high enough to see the pale slash of Coral Beach to the west and the blue ridges of the Cedar Valley in the distant east, yellow sun glancing off their inclines. The wind does not blow. It is perfectly, silently still.
“It’s hot.” I declare, fanning myself with the paperback book I packed for the plane, and Jude pushes his sunglasses onto his face. “Is it?” He says vaguely. He is wearing long trousers and a sweatshirt, and Shane has the decency to look irritated on my behalf. “Some of us would find this hot, man, yeah,” He says. “We weren’t all dragged up in the Chihuahuan Desert, or whatever it’s called,” He wipes sweat from his brow and begins hauling some of the bags up the steps to the worn wooden doors at the entrance of the house. There is an arc of sweat on his back, and hair at the nape of his neck is damp with it. He was never all that great in the sun.
When Claire throws open the doors she does so with great flourish, and then flits through the house and does the same to all of them. I spot her up on the balcony above the pomegranate trees as I carry my things inside, like a Disney princess with her long, thick hair swishing around her shoulders, the look of complete and utter bliss fixed upon her pretty face. She was so excited about this holiday, and now being here, seeing how beautiful it is after all of the meticulous planning, I feel like I can relax.
The house, with its smooth plastered walls is cool inside, as though the thick stone has held onto the damp of winter, but still, I go to the sink in the kitchen to get a palm full of water for my hot forehead. The shutters there are thrown open to a sea view, and far to the north east of the bay where the white sand meets the cliffs, a huge, top heavy rock juts out of the sea. I am squinting at it when Jude comes up behind me to wrap his arms around my waist.
“It’s Aphrodite’s Rock,” I tell him. “I read about it in that guide at the tourist office. The myths say that she was born right there at that very spot.”
“She’s the Greek’s answer to Venus, right? Goddess of Love and beauty.”
“And marriage and prostitution and all of that fun stuff.”
“I bet she was a wild gal back in the BC days.”
“You know that the guide also said that that portion of the beach was voted the top place in the Mediterranean to have sex,” I don’t know why I just said that, and stiffen awkwardly in his arms, quickly adding, “It’s also a nudist beach,” as though that will save me somehow, but actually it only makes it worse.
“Oh,” He teases with a ticklish kiss on my cheekbone. “If you feel like heading down there at any point I wouldn’t be totally opposed.”
“Yeah, you me and a bunch of creepy old men, I bet, and anyway,” I twist around to face him “I’m already competing for time with your bloody thesis, I don’t really fancy wasting a precious day hiking all the way down there just to get my pasty baps out for a crowd of strangers.”
He throws his head back and groans, arms falling limp at his sides. “Please, we just arrived, don’t mention the ‘T’ word.”
“Get it done early,” I warn him with a stiff finger in the chest. “I’m not spending this whole holiday third wheeling it with Claire and Shane because you can’t stop procrastinating.”
“I’m like, 95% there. I swear, it’ll be like, one evening, max,” he whirls around and starts plucking bags from the heap on the terracotta tiles with a sudden burst of efficiency. “I’ll do it tonight, it’ll be over. For now we have to unpack and pick a room, and then I think we should take a walk and see if we can find somewhere to swim so we can get that sticky aeroplane feeling off us.”
“A room?” I echo, fixated on that part, “You think we should share?”
“Well, I don’t know,” He says, standing still with his arms full of cases. “Would you absolutely hate that?”
“I wouldn’t hate it, I just, you know…”
He nods, “We can sleep separately, I don’t mind.”
“I’m sorry,” I add quickly, “It’s nothing personal, I just don’t want to feel kind of, situation-ed into something we’re not ready for.”
“Is that a word? Situ-”
“No.”
“Well, okay.”
“You’re not offended?”
“No!” He says, and rightly enough, he doesn’t sound it, but maybe he’s just a good actor. “It’s not like that with us, we’re going slow.”
I chew on my lip, “Well I feel like you’re just saying that.”
“Evie,” He sighs. “It’s different with us, I know that you’re anxious, and it doesn’t bother me. Actually, it’s nice, I’ve never done the waiting thing before, and I’m enjoying it, because I’ve been appreciating everything else that we’ve been doing.”
“Back when I was at school the waiting period was about eight months,” I tell him, and it’s just an innocent anecdote but I swear his face drains a bit. “Girls would go out with their first boyfriend for ages first, and if they made it as far as eight months then they’d get the ride. Usually like, in a car or at someone’s house party.”
“Sounds romantic.”
“Yeah, right. That was just a stupid story, by the way,” I say hastily. “It’s not like that’s the pattern I want us to follow or anything, it just popped into my head there, and like, eight months is ages to wait, and it’s not like we even know where you’re going to be in eight months, sure you’ll be long graduated by then and you could be off anywhere in the world…” I trail off because his smile has faltered and he’s starting to look miserable. “I’ll come with you now to look at the rooms,” I seize a few more of the bags and follow him up the stairs to a creaky landing with shuttered windows that still block out the light.
I insist that Jude take the double room out of pure guilt, even though he seems perfectly fine again, but mostly I choose the small box room because it has that very same beautiful view as the kitchen beneath it. Instead of unpacking anything I sit upon a painted wooden chair by the window and gaze out at the stillness of Pissouri, the azure blue of the sky and the brittle sand coloured stone of the cracked roads that wind up and down the hills. Once again I look for Aphrodite’s Rock and find it, as though a flickering torch of twisting flames was transformed into stone in an instant. The sand at its base unfolds into a meadow of Neptune seagrass, and I imagine I can see the goddess there, standing boldly in her nakedness amongst the cliffs. Somehow she sees me too, and she smiles up at me, her gaze unwavering, insistent and sure. I stare back until she dissolves to nothing in the blink of an eye.
Beginning // Prev // Next
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9, 20, 28, 42 for the 49 ask game
Thanks! :D
DEATH - What WIP would you want to be remembered for?:
Good question! I think I'll go with Totentanz. Because time-travellers fighting monsters is a pretty cool thing to be remembered for :D
FIRE - What is the worst thing you've ever created?:
*glares at my first completed WIP* I wouldn't mind so much if it was complete rubbish, but unfortunately past me had a few good ideas. The problem is, they're ruined by bad execution, wooden characters, and some bits that make me want to tear my hair and scream "WHAT WAS I THINKING?".
ILLUSION - What is the best line of description in your WIP?:
An excerpt from each WIP, coming up!
Like Snow on Hungry Graves:
"None of the drawings did justice to how beautiful its tail was. Its scales were dark blue and its fins -- lighter blue and streaked with white and purple -- flared out like a cape."
The Power and the Glory:
"Siarvin set Ilaran down on the bed as gently as if he was made of glass. He disappeared into the small bathroom adjoining the room, leaving Abi alone with the body. In life Ilaran had been one of the tallest men Abi knew. In death he seemed small and more vulnerable than she'd ever seen him look before. His eyes were still partly open, slashes of green in the middle of his chalk-white face."
Gracemeadow Manor:
"The man playing the piano was abnormally tall, with long arms and legs that reminded her of a spider's. He was dressed from head to toe in black with a top hat pulled down over his face. His hands were bone white. In fact she wasn't entirely sure they weren't just bone. What little she could see of his face was also pale. He was either grinning or baring his teeth. Did he have lips at all? Did he have skin at all?"
Totentanz:
"The hole in the veil opened right in front of her. For one nightmarish minute she looked through it into the Óhreinnjǫrð. Colours swirled behind the veil, colours that human eyes should not be able to see. In seconds the landscape changed from mountains to valleys to cities that defied all logic. She saw palaces built on top of enormous spindly towers. A thousand shapes rolled back and forth in the gorge-like streets."
The Unfortunate Moth:
"The middle-aged woman was the main actor in the unfolding drama. A casual passer-by would have assumed she was a British noblewoman — a countess at the very least, to judge by her behaviour. Yo-han had always had a gift for languages and had trained himself to have a decent grasp of accents in foreign languages. He also had studied enough people of all races and from all walks of life to pick up on subtleties of body language and expression. He knew at once that this was no noblewoman. She was as common as common could be, and she knew it. She was afraid everyone else knew it too. That was why she wore five pearl necklaces. That was why her clothes were the very latest fashion, even though they didn't suit her at all. That was why she acted like she owned the ship. That was why she put on an upper-class accent. Yo-han had never seen this woman before, but he had seen a thousand copies of her."
Silver Glass:
"A large and gaudy car was parked outside the front door. Phil eyed it disapprovingly. The owner had better be colour-blind, because there was no other excuse for painting a car in a shade of red normally reserved for overripe tomatoes. And was that velvet upholstery?"
SOUL - What is your favourite WIP?:
Currently it's a tie between The Case-files (murder mysteries are so much fun to write!) and Death Waits for Some Men (black comedies are also so much fun!)
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hiiiii 7 13 14 :) <3
Hii!!! Wrote too much as usual lol it's bc they're good questions
7. Favourite works of all time excluding your own?
Ohhh ok so, I interpreted this as Paintings I Think About All The Time, so this excludes any video and sculpture and stuff and is almost only stuff I’ve seen in person.
From more recent years, I’ve really liked “The Lookout (All’s Well)” by Winslow Homer’s and “Automedon with the Horses of Achilles” by Henri Regnault. Online photos do neither of these justice. The lookout is so so cool when it comes to depicting the dimness of night, and the position of the three stars in the sky along with the little speck of moonlight on the bell really fascinated me— they’re in such weird spots in the painting! Also maritime theme so +one million points.
For Automedon, it’s the humongous size of the painting and the tragedy of the character that got me. Poor Automedon is so clearly doomed but he is too young, too loyal, seems too innocent to realize it. The fact that the painting is set in this kind of barren rocky seaside landscape that we associate with the land of the dead makes this effect even stronger for me. It’s those Greek Epics Feels yk?
Otherwise, in paintings I used to have a much stronger obsession with but which still really get me there’s The Floor Scrapers by Caillebotte, Carnation Lilly Lilly Rose by John Singer Sargent, David Hockney’s A Bigger Splash, and Hopper’s Rooms By the Sea.
The Floor Scrapers and A Bigger Splash I get excited about on a technical level. The casual, photographic posing and the natural light in The Floor Scrapers is so beautiful and fills me with a real human empathy for the men in the image, reminds me of their lives. It’s all the stuff I really like about the impressionists, when they’re depicting People and Sight Itself.
A Bigger Slash is still sooooo cool to me I have no idea why. Idk, as I see it Hockney’s one of those creators whose sardonic eye remains sentimental and earnestly invested in beauty. This painting has a lot of that imo. Like yes, fuck a California swimming pool, but it’s also genuinely beautiful, and come here let’s hold those two ideas in the mind at once. The fact that it’s made with commercial wall paint (iirc) is also huge in that regard.
Now, the Sargent painting and the Hockney painting have been the support for two different Ongoing Personal Crises that I’ve now mostly moved on from but I ruminated on them a lot. The Hockney painting to me is about bravery in the face of the unknown, and transitioning from control to the complete lack of it. Will you leave the comfortable familiarity of the hotel room and jump, with no support and no transition, into the ocean where you will have no way to come back up? I now think the dichotomy of how I framed that question is flawed, but there was a time where I put a lot of pressure on myself to cut loose, and was very ashamed of my attachments and the accusation that I leveraged against myself reflected itself in Rooms By the Sea.
The Sargent painting hit me like a ton of bricks when I saw it because I projected onto it that effortless experience of Mystery that fades as you grow up. A little corner of garden like that, paper lanterns, and a cousin you see once in a while all have this mysterious quality when you’re 7 years old which over the years becomes plastered over with the Understanding we need to make decisions and be an actor in the world. I can still get myself in a state where I can marvel at the world, and feel a sense of unknowing at the places I find myself in, but it’s a state I have to get myself into, and I think there’s no such thing as truly forgetting what you know when you look at the world.
13. Show your favourite drawing from last year
Not really one drawing but it’s def the Corto comic. Comics are just… I fucking love making comics dude. Meditating on the characters, making them act, writing the dialogue, moving the camera around, it really has all the elements of other art making that I love and I think this one comic came to me quite effortlessly and gave me the motivation to make the more recent one about my uncle.
In terms of execution I’m also rlly happy with this Lyle sketch that I’m never gonna finish. He just looks good in it lol.
14. How has your art changed over the years?
Oooohf uh. This is really hard to talk about well. I think in my own experience while drawing the most important difference is that I used to go “ok, I’m going to draw a face, here’s how I’ve learned to do a face, here’s how I’ll tweak it to look how I want” and now I’m more likely to think “ok, what technique do I want to focus on for this drawing? what direction do I want to stretch myself in?”
I guess it’s a slow evolution of artistic maturity, where instead of directly copying and applying tricks to depict content, I’m more able to look at the material I have and go “what can I do with this?” Concretely, I’ve become a lot less focused on anatomy, perspective, and facial features and a lot more focus on color, composition and big blocky shapes. That being said, I think the blocky style I’ve been doing more of has actually improved both my line art (which I now do with a bolder pen, or a heavily textured pen on really small canvases) and my rendering abilities.
My bad habits or “crutches” have also changed, especially when it comes to depicting and rendering bodies. I used to use layer effects for shading a bunch, and never really do that anymore, but now I’m always placing light in the same damn places when I render a face lol.
In terms of pure aesthetic I would say there have been a number of overlapping Styles or Tendencies something like:
Everything has a flats or thick line art and random ill-considered pink overlays (lol and lol)
Surprisingly parsimonious rendering, usually with flat brushes, but it’s exclusively heads looking left
A brief run-in with better soft brush line art and more tasteful flats with less rendering (ding and dong)
Too much ill-considered rendering with overly ambitious lighting contexts (rip and F)
Oh shit crunchy brushes (cronch and crunch)
Polyline tool flats (introducing, backgrounds if you squint) evolving slowly throughout (here, here and here for eg)
Heavy black linear + lasso tool flats / rendering? (bing and bong)
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Magus and/or Flea
Magus
First impression
Ohhhh big cape evil dude with one of the coolest boss themes I've ever heard!?
Impression now
Favorite moment
Sighhhhh there's so many... When you really look at him he has such nuance and everything is linked and I LOVE thinking about him (been almost 15 years lol...) It's really hard to just pick one. For now, let's just say his iconic line
Idea for a story
Men of Mystics
For real tho, I've wanted to do a cool horror/creepy pasta type story about Magus in relation to the black wind. I just don't know how to get the really good feeling out into words or art so it's been a few years in the back of my mind. Just something about being so young and losing your mum to the black winds, and watching your sister slowly succumb to the same thing, all before you start to hear it yourself... Yeah, I wish I had in inspiration to pull it off how I want
Unpopular opinion
A vast majority of the fandom reduce him to a gross and/or incorrect flanderization of self. That, or glossing over him entirely, when he adds so much to the narrative of ct as a whole. I still see fucking terrible takes on him as recently as 2022 lol and it makes me a bit sad. I know my interpretations won't be to everyone's liking but I've put effort into looking into him (and most the ct cast as a whole) and picking up the subtle things that are laid out right there in the source material. Looking only at him (or anyone for that matter) PURELY through a fandom lens gets tiring for me to see sometimes...
Favorite relationship
HARLAND
FOR REAL THO, ALL THESE YEARS LATER AND HIS RELATIONSHIP WITH SCHALA IS STILL SO NICE.... EVEN THO most of that relationship is his one sided view on it, he still dedicated most of his life working to try and avenge/save her. It's strong enough that it prevailed through to both sequels (to varying degrees and missed opportunities 🙄) because he just cared that much. Even when he's a grown man, he's still that little kid who's sad cause he misses his sister!!!!
Favorite headcanon
That the use of magic changes your appearance. I had a whole theory about hair colour and magical affinity, which explains why Magus has such a beautiful icy blue colour. It also explains why his ears got pointy, and I like to further that by imagining that he overall looks very sharp and angular, as much as a human can. I try to express that with most art I make of him, I know he's really hot and even if it's so subtle most will miss it, I try to keep him looking sharp.
///
Flea
First impression
WOAH WE'RE FIGHTING IN THE STARS!!!
(fun fact, flea was one of my very first glimpses of ct, before my very own playthrough I used to sit with my dad in his office and watch him play, and he was going through Magus' castle one of the first time I watched him!)
Impression now
EPIC NB TRANS MASC KING!!!
Favorite moment
Idea for a story
Hmm... Honestly, a lot of the stuff I wanted to explore for him (+the other generals) is gong into men of mystics. I've always just wanted to kinda explore the behind the scenes lives of everyone leading up to the war in 600ad, and that's exactly what men of mystics is - all that boring stuff, but harland is there :p
Unpopular opinion
Flea is not trans fem. Let trans mascs have this one, he literally says 'hey, I'm a guy'
I'm not saying this as a dig at trans fems, if they see something in him and connect with him that way I love to see it - I'm saying as a trans masc myself who often feels like people hear the word 'trans' and think it only means 'trans woman,' let us have this one and respect the masc despite appearing androgynous/feminine, I talked about it a little while ago here
Favorite relationship
Honestly? With slash and ozzie. I'm soooo interested in how the dynamic between the three of them plays out, I love thinking about the antics they'd get up to while they were rising to general status
Favorite headcanon
Honestly not so much a hc but more trying to bring back the aspects of Flea that were lost through translation. Mainly the amazing pun on his name making him talk real flirty. I wish there was a way we could have all the little nuances brought over to eng, I could talk about them all day....
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Chapter 0002 Beauty Apartment
As one of the top ten companies in Huahai City, Splendid Group has built a 30-storey high-rise building on the second ring road where every inch of land is expensive. It is used as the staff dormitory of Splendid Group.
Because of the convenience of work, complete facilities and elegant environment, many high-level companies also live here.
There is also an alias here—Beauty Apartment, because most of the Jinxiu Group are female employees, ranging from senior executives with shares to ordinary salespeople, and most of them are good-looking, making the entire apartment look like a "daughter country".
Not to mention anything else, the trash can in front of the building, overflowing with a lot of flowers and love letters every day, can fit a small truck.
"Let go of me! Let go! You guys! I'll call the police if you keep doing this!!"
At the gate of the apartment at this time, four or five men in black suits were aggressively holding a woman in a moon-white ol skirt and came out of the apartment.
The woman's neatly combed hair is now messy, but she can still see a lustrous and fair face, a delicate nose, delicate red lips, and a light makeup showing the charm of a mature urban woman.
"Minister Feng! What the hell is going on here! Who are these people?" Aunt Zhao, the dormitory manager, looked anxious and wanted to go up to discourage her, but these men with strong backs were not easy to mess with.
There were some other female employees at the door, and when they saw the woman being arrested, they were all scared and pale.
Feng Yueying, the head of the sales department of Jinxiu Group, belongs to the top management of the company, and is also one of the most powerful women in the business circle of Huahai City.
Because Feng Yueying has been single for so many years, she lives in this apartment with peace of mind, which is convenient for work.
"Sister Zhao! Hurry up and call the police! Say that the White Shark Gang is holding me hostage!" Feng Yueying resisted all the way, turning her head and shouting to the dormitory aunt.
When Aunt Zhao heard this, her face turned pale with fright, "Bai... White Shark Gang? This... I..."
The White Shark Gang is the largest gang in Huahai City. It is deeply rooted and eats both black and white. Ordinary people don't dare to provoke it.
Aunt Zhao lowered her head tremblingly and did not dare to make a phone call, for fear of getting burned.
The man in the black suit who took the lead had gray-white hair and a beard on his face, and grinned at Feng Yueying: "Shut up! Stupid! Dare to call the police? Do you think it will work if you cheated our nine masters? Believe it or not? Slash your throat and throw it into the sea!"
As soon as these words came out, Aunt Zhao and other female employees next to them were even more afraid, and their bodies were stiff.
"That batch of goods was bought by your ninth master yourself! I'm just doing business with him! It's his self-love, what does it have to do with me!?" Feng Yueying's eyes were red with anger, and she was about to cry.
The white-haired man glared at him, "Bitch, it means that our ninth master has wrongly blamed you? It's cool that you won't let us serve some of our brothers tonight, don't want to come back! Take it away!!"
No matter how Feng Yueying resisted, she was only a woman after all. She was pushed into the car by so many big men, and she couldn't hold on anymore.
Originally, I was counting on Aunt Zhao, the dormitory, to call the police, but after thinking about it carefully, none of these people dared to provoke the White Shark Gang, and they felt ashes.
Could it be that she has held on to her innocence for so many years, and will be ruined tonight, tainted by such a group of villains?
At this moment, Ye Fan, who rode a bicycle to the door of the apartment, got out of the car and asked, "What's wrong? Minister Feng, why are they arresting you?"
Feng Yueying recognized Ye Fan and knew that he was a plumber and electricity repairman hired by the apartment. He could repair all kinds of electrical appliances, but he was not an official employee of the company.
The two have known each other for a while, but they are not too familiar with each other, so it stands to reason that they cannot be involved.
But Feng Yueying was so scared that she couldn't control it too much, so she could only plead, "Ye Fan! Help me call the police! They're going to kidnap me!"
"What!? Kidnapping in public!?" Ye Fan took out his mobile phone and said, "Don't worry, Minister Feng, I have the most sense of justice!"
Seeing that Ye Fan was really going to call the police, Aunt Zhao and a group of female staff all sweated on his behalf.
Sure enough, several of the white shark gang's men in black all showed suffocation, and the white-haired man said gloomily: "Stinky boy, do you dare to care about our white shark gang? Are you tired of living?"
"What white shark and black shark sounds better than yellow croaker," Ye Fan clicked his tongue.
"Yellow... yellow croaker!? Fuck you, beat him!"
The white-haired man gestured with his eyes, and immediately two men in black surrounded Ye Fan.
One grabbed the phone from Ye Fan's hand, and the other kicked Ye Fan's waist.
Ye Fan was too lazy to make a phone call, anyway, it was too late to call the police, so he just avoided the kick of the man behind him.
The man kicked in the air, but instead kicked another black-clothed man directly opposite.
"Ouch!" The man in front of him was kicked over.
Ye Fan took a step back at this time, his left foot was horizontal, and the man behind him who was about to retract his foot was tripped, and the center of gravity of his entire body was unstable, and he immediately fell with all four feet upside down.
All this took less than three seconds, and the people around didn't see what was going on, and the two strong men in black fell to the ground!
The female employees in front of the apartment were all dumbfounded, while Feng Yueying's eyes sparked a glimmer of hope. She never imagined that this young part-time worker would have such skills! ?
"Shit-eating guy! Shame on you!?"
The white-haired man spit, rolled up his sleeves, exposing his strong arms, and walked in front of Ye Fan.
"Boy, you asked for it yourself, don't blame me when I hit you with a concussion..."
The white-haired man grinned. He used to punch in the black market, and his arm strength was not at all that ordinary people could resist. When he raised his hand, a fist the size of a sandbag hit Ye Fan in the head.
Ye Fan was in no hurry, dodged and dodged, the white-haired man's punch just hit a black Buick commercial vehicle of their own.
With a bang, the white-haired man's fist hit the window glass, directly smashing the car glass.
The glass scum pierced his hand, and blood flowed, causing the white-haired man to grin and scream in pain.
Ye Fan turned around behind the white-haired man, and kicked his back leg, hitting his hamstring.
"what!"
The white-haired man screamed, one leg was sore and numb, and he almost knelt down.
"You?" The white-haired man gritted his teeth, staggered around, and struck Ye Fan again with his bloody fist!
But Ye Fan's foot had already been placed in front of the white-haired man, and he seemed to kick him lightly in the face. The white-haired man's nose bleeds, a shoe print appeared on his face, and he fell down.
"Boss!!" Several men in black looked dumbfounded. The white-haired man was beaten so hard that he was so embarrassed! ?
A group of female employees, the dormitory aunt, all watched with brilliance, as if it was the first time they knew Ye Fan.
Ye Fan looked back at the two big men who were still holding Feng Yueying, revealing a cold and evil smile...
"Hey, aren't you going to take him to the hospital? What if there is a concussion?"
The two big men were all excited, and they both let go of Feng Yueying in a gloomy way, and ran to lift up the white-haired man.
Four or five people got back to the car in a panic, and soon drove away in the Buick.
Feng Yueying was relieved, her whole body seemed to be collapsed, and when she left, she found that her whole body was covered in sweat, and she sat down on the ground panting, her heart still pounding.
"Minister Feng, are you alright?"
Feng Yueying looked up and saw Ye Fan's innocent and honest smiling face, as if the man with the cold and evil smile was not alone at all.
For some reason, Feng Yueying found that the man in front of him seemed to be wearing a mask, and he couldn't see the real him at all.
"Who are you... who are you?" Feng Yueying murmured.
Ye Fan blinked and smiled brightly: "I'm Xiao Ye, the maintenance worker here, didn't he go to Minister Feng's house to repair your electrical appliances twice before?"
Feng Yueying glanced at him with complicated eyes, knowing that she couldn't ask anything. She sighed, but said sincerely, "Thank you, Ye Fan, if it weren't for you, I would be in big trouble today."
"It's nothing, it's a small matter," Ye Fan said with a smile, and then stretched out his hand again, "Minister Feng, let me help you get up, the sun is hot on the ground, and sitting on your butt for a long time will cause diarrhea."
"Where did you hear that?" Feng Yueying blushed. This young man speaks very straightforwardly.
After hesitating, she still put Bai Nensu's hand on Ye Fan's.
Feng Yueying's figure is quite plump, her hands are not thin, and it is very comfortable to hold.
Just as she was about to pull the woman up, she heard Feng Yueying frown and let out a soft "Yeah".
"What's wrong?"
"My foot...it seems to be swollen." Feng Yueying's face was in pain, and I felt pity.
Ye Fan looked at her left foot, the heels of the high-heeled shoes were broken, and at a glance, she knew that she had accidentally injured it while struggling.
"Minister Feng, let me carry you on your back, forcing walking will hurt even more." Ye Fan did not say a word, and bent down in front of Feng Yueying.
"This...isn't it appropriate?" Feng Yueying's face turned red. She had never been carried by any other man except her father since she was a child.
Ye Fan smiled nonchalantly: "It's fine, I have good physical strength and can carry on my back."
Feng Yueying chuckled, "It's like I'm serious..."
Although it felt weird in her heart, Feng Yueying couldn't think of any other way. She couldn't ask other girls present to carry her, so she lay on Ye Fan's back.
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Wat if katsuki actually had a s/o that loved Key word LOVED him but.....
Then when he started getting to aggressive and starts hitting her she suddenly stops all the love and affection. And that makes katsuki so confused and angry bc he like 'wtf why did they stop huggin and kissin me when I get home from my matches'. Then his darling becomes very depressed is and cooped up in her room all the time. So when katsuki friends come over they wonder where y/n is.
Tw:abuse, implied dubcon, depression
“Babe, you’re home!” You rush over to the door when you head it unlocking, arms outstretched already or embrace his wounds.
But when the door swings open you’re met with a scowling Bakugo who shoves you aside so hard you fall to the floor.
He grumbles and throws his bags down, kicking mud off his shoes onto the carpet as he glares at you.
“This place is a pigsty. Why the fuck didn’t you clean?”
You laugh nervously and raise an eyebrow. “Uhh, ‘cause I was out all day too? I just got home an hour ago and I was tired. What’s with you? Why’re you in such a bad mood?”
Katsuki’s eyes widen until they’re the size of dinner plates. His nostrils flare and his fists resume the same position as they do in the ring.
“You talkin’ back to me now?”
“What? No, you literally just asked-“
Crack.
The sound of him backhanding your cheek reverberates around the apartment, and you hold your face in shock.
It’s not so much the pain of him striking you that hurts, it’s the fact that this has been happening for a while now that aches the most. Nothing you do-no smiles, no amount of love you showed him in, no sobs or pleads-sways him.
You love him, it’s true.
But it’s hard to love him when he looks at you like that.
“Get the fuck up. And clean all this shit up, the next time I come home to this filth I’ll make the clean the floors with your tongue.”
He grabs you by your hair and throws you face-first onto the tile area, taking his own sweet time to turn around and walk to your shared room.
After you clean for hours until the place is spotless, you retreat to bed.
He’s on his phone typing away with a slight crease in his eyebrows, but he looks up at you as you walk in.
“Hey. You done?” He has the audacity to ask in a gentle voice.
“Mmhm.”
You don’t look at him as you begin changing your clothes in the restroom and close the door behind you.
His frown deepens at that. You’ve never shied away from being vulnerable and naked with him.
To test his doubt, when you walk back into the room with your head still down, he leans forward as you sit down on the mattress, your back turned to him.
You shut off the lights in silence as he reaches a hand out and curls it around your shoulders.
“C’mere, ‘wanna feel you.” He mumbles in his raspy sleepy voice.
But to his utter confusion, you gently brush his hand off and continue your journey to tuck yourself in bed.
With your back still facing him.
“I’m tired Katsuki. Not in the mood.”
His hand is still suspended in midair, his facial features still frozen in his initial shock as he’s left in a pitch black room which is suddenly overcome with a freezing cold creeping up his spine.
He’s too wounded, too shocked and shot from his ego to be irate.
You’ve never said no to cuddling at night. Never. So what was wrong now?
You were taking his anger so well for a while, what the hell was the matter with you?
But he doesn’t touch you again that night. He barely sleeps a wink to your usually comforting sound of soft snores and little mumbles in your sleep talk.
In the morning his lack of sleep gets the betterment of his temper, and he lashes out of you again in the shower.
You’re washing your hair when you feel a cool breeze against your bare body. You open your eyes and see Katsuki standing in front of you outside the glass door to your shower.
You feign an eye roll and merely grab the handle trying to close it shut.
He doesnt even let it budge. He just snarls down at your intruding hand and yanks the door back even further, pulling you along with the force.
You yelp and slip on the floor, falling unceremoniously at his feet.
The look on his face is frankly terrifying, much worse than yesterday’s. Bakugo slowly steps in along with your quickly reversing body and closes the door behind him, trapping you inside with him.
“Why’d you try to close it on me.”
It’s not a question, it’s a demand.
“I’m sorry.”
“Then get up and touch me.”
He’s towering over your cornered form, his fists dangerously swinging next to your head.
Your limbs don’t move though. Your heart thuds slowly, your love ebbing away from him with its slow rhythm.
You already know how this is going to turn out, but you try anyways.
“Please Bakugo, I’m really not in the mood right now.”
“Oh, so it’s Bakugo now, huh?”
Your body disassociates so you don’t feel it as much, but unfortunately your hands still flinch above your head in instinct.
“If you’re-thud-sorry, then you’ll fucking-crack-touch me you-smack-ungrateful bitch.”
Your cries are loud, but not loud enough to drown his roaring out, not enough to mute the sound of his hands cracking above your shaking body.
He leaves the shower unfulfilled in his heart and in his dick.
His mind is in shambles.
This is the longest you’ve wanted space from him, he could understand an hour but half a day?
He has a rude awakening when “half a day” becomes a couple more days, then a week, and then it’s half a month since you’ve willingly kissed his battle scars and loved him with your whole being.
He says willingly because otherwise you eat his hits up like you’re just another fighter in the ring when he gets angry at your apathy. The only restraining factor that differentiates you and the men he puts in coffins is his desperation for you to come back.
To no avail though. If you’re not keeling over on the ground or pinned underneath him and molding your anatomy to the shape of his fists, then you’re still as a corpse on the bed, staring up at the ceiling and wishing you were anywhere else but here.
Bakugo doesn’t know what to do.
He doesn’t know what to feel.
Rage is consumed by paranoia, paranoia is swallowed whole by depression, depression is swept away by panicked desperation.
His hair starts falling out, his punches grow weaker and he comes home with more and more bruises every day to match the ones littering across your body.
One might wonder whose the real fighter-him or you.
And so one day when he can’t stand it anymore, can’t stand the silence and tension that’s so palpable you could taste the iron in the air, he invited his friends over.
He need the distractions. He needs happiness, a word that doesn’t seem worthy of his pathetic being.
He’s more pathetic than your unmoving body.
“Heyyy man!” Sero and Denki exclaim in obnoxious unison and throw their arms around Bakugo’s shoulders. All three of them barrel through his half-opened doorway and practically topple him over.
The air of excitement is so foreign to him, but oh so welcoming.
“Hey,” he grunts back awkwardly.
“You’ve never really invited us over without Y/N dragging you by the ear for it. How is she by the way? Haven’t heard of her in a while.” Kirishima nudges his shoulder.
But before he can open his mouth Denki cuts in. “You knock her up yet? You sly bastard, no wonder you’re hiding her from us. The gigs over Y/N, show us that beautiful belly!” He cups his hands around his mouth and the quip slashes through the air and infests Katsuki’s heart. It’s a mockery, a cruel reminder of what he cannot have.
When their friend doesn’t answer and merely walks off, the boys behind him awkwardly look at each other.
Usually he’d explode at them or at least chase them around the room.
And usually you would come out to greet them.
Katsuki was wrong.
You weren’t different from him anymore.
Because when he accepts that not even his friends can release his stone cold heart from its catatonic confines, he’s never felt more in sync with you than he has now.
#mha#bnha#mha angst#bnha angst#bakugo angst#katsuki angst#bakugo x you#yandere bakugo x reader#tw:abuse#tw: implied noncon#bully bakugo#yandere bakugo katsuki#yandere bakugou
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Jimin is a pretty bOY
This is a continuation of our discussion on my last post. Thanks for sharing your thoughts with me, I think I agree with all of it.
Not sure how I feel about the calling eachother out bit or near scolding of others in the comments. Please let's be welcoming and respectful of others's thoughts regardless of whether or not we agree with it. It's ok to hold diverse views. We do after all come from different backgrounds and have accumulated different experiences and I think it plays out in how we see things. Everyone's opinion is valid. Plus, I purple yall.
Now, do I think he is trying to pack on muscles........? Yes. He said so himself in Festa when he said he would rush to the mirror when he thought he had gained some muscle only to find out his biceps looks like a muscled kindergartner.
He also said lately he's into exercising and staying in shape which is true because for quite sometime now since early this year he has been talking about how "weak" he is in their Vlives and have even given instances of him not being able to do certain things- certian simple and easy tasks- which is typical of him I'd say. He's always talking about how "weak" he is especially around JK and juxtaposing that with "but JK is so strong" which I'm sorry but I have to smirk at right now cos it's such a typical gay pick me simp thing to do. We've all been there.
Do I think he's trying to be a muscle bunny or revert back to his body shape around debut? Absolutely not. But I do think he is straddling the line of toxic masculinity which is what the conversation is about.
I don't think there's anything wrong with wanting to stay in shape or even enjoying work outs. Last night I ran downstairs because I had left my stew on the stove and now this morning I called renew my gym membership because I discovered running can be actually fun to do... No. No it's not. The gym instructor would have to come for me kicking and screaming.
RM have said even though JM looks skinny and fragile he is one of the strongest within the group. Besides, this is not the first time he's expressed interest in working out and building his body- hello, on Era?
I remember people complaining he looked too buffed up in that period on SNS and PJMs quickly jumping in to clear the searches for it. The choreo for On required agility and endurance and required the members- not just JM build up some definition in their muscles.
We've seen them go through all that. So it's not simply a matter of black and white staying in shape or doing it because he feels pressured to do so. Especially, when you consider that he's undertaken some pretty unhealthy measures in the past in attempts to lose weight or soften out his body post these muscle building, weight gaining periods and we've always chalked it up to his dance and how as a contemporary dancer he has to look a certain way or this or that to try to justify and make sense of it. Next you, know there are six chapters of break the silence of him talking about all the dark places he's been, the pressures to look his best for his fans or for his job and all these other painful stories he's shared with us over the years. And it's like, but why? Why do this to yourself?
I'll never forget the look he gave JK when JK was talking about wanting to build muscles in one of the interviews for the promotion of Be- I think I made a post on it. When JK noticed JMs disapproving glare he backtracked saying he would want to stay skinny after gaining all that muscles.
I mean if I'm to be honest, he was bound to crack at one point. The signs were there being surrounded by all these men who adhere to the traditional aesthetics of a masculine body- from Namjoon to Taehyung.
I wish y'all will steer the conversation in this direction and make it more about gender norms and expressions and breaking stereotypes and diversity in the body aesthetics of men.
Jimin is a man too. He just isn't what people traditionally will label masculine. Androgynous is more an apt word in my opinion. How many times have I said, I think Jungkook hetero passes because his body aesthetics is quintessentially what most associates with a masculine man?
Breaking gender barriers is not just about embracing feminine apparels- that teeters on cross dressing quite frankly and can be a bit performative and baity. Then you have to consider their culture in itself has an inherent pro gender diversity feel to it.
Now, let me explain my problem with the Klout ad campaign a little bit.
Do you see how Tae stands out? And I'm not saying this to fuel the "Tae was their fav" debacle. It's the 007 feel... I'll explain in a bit.
Most often, alcohol advertisers as well as most advertisements intended to sell to men often try to appeal to men's internalized ideals of masculinity or try to shape and define what a man or masculinity should look like. These ideals are so often toxic and detrimental to men and mostly women too.
Take a look at these ads for example. All I had to do was google search ads for men.
Real men drink milk and look at the image they present as real men. This blatantly implies if you don't look like this, if you are not a strong cliff climbing man with abs you are not a real man.
The second image is subtle. I call it the 007 slash Kingsmen-esque ideals of masculinity. It portrays men as sexy cool badass- works out but isn't too buff, filthy rich or middle class, wears Rolex, designer clothes, is kind but has a mean exterior and is every 13 year old wattpad girls's dream of a man. In fiction, you see this kind of masculinity in characters such as Edward cullens to Christian Grey. And a lot of ads for men alternate between these two ideals of masculinity.
Do you see how they modeled Taehyung in these ads after this kind of masctheme? Tae looks the same in almost all the ads. 007 sexy cool badass.
Now, I may not be a makeup beauty guru or MUA or whatever, but one thing I've picked up on especially when it comes to makeup for men- BTS and Kpop idols mostly is that, they soften out the harsh features on their faces and make them appear more androgynous or effeminate to suit the Kpop look and they ditch it entirely in different settings.
So for instance, Tae and Kookie's natural hawkish eyebrows tend to get softened around the arch and edges- don't know how the fuck they do that- but it appears less in your face intense most times when they wear make up in kpop related contents.
However, in certain other contents that lean towards a certain gender theme those features are emphasized. Not to say hawkish features are masculine features. Just saying in men, Kpop idols, my observation is they soften those features out with makeup or surgery.
Now, take a look at JM in these ads and look at everything from his posture, make up, hairstyle and brows. It's as if someone took an eraser to his androgynousity and erased his feminine side. Take a look at his photo above and compare it to the ads.
I am not a man. But I feel the gender look they went for, intended to appeal to men, tapped into a rather outdated stereotype of what man and masculinity should look like.
What is a man?
What should a man look like?
What aesthetics of masculinity is Jimin gravitating towards now? And I'm not talking clothes, I'm talking the expression of his gender. Time and again, he's talked about how looking a certain way made him uncomfortable in the past because he was constantly fighting his feminine side. He is androgynous. Sometimes he leans more into his feminine side. Other times he leans more into his masculine side but this is the only time he's leaning into his masculinity that makes me uncomfortable to watch because like I said it bothers on toxic masculinity.
He's said whoever he was, the version fighting to look masculine, that wasn't him. So forgive me if I worry whenever i see him suppressing his feminine side and acting like 'one of the boys.' Him staying in shape is not synonymous with him erasing a valid part of himself or suppressing it. He can stay in shape, celebrate his masculinity and still be FILTER.
What I'm saying is, this not a conversation about him exercising. This is a conversation about an ad erasing his feminine side and boxing him into a narrow expression of his gender and how that might be affecting his view of himself especially in the way he's been gravitating towards a certain masculine aesthetics and how that could be toxic.
Tae has said the same thing and BTS have agreed the JM as of 2019 was the real JM according to them.They said he was that way- suppressing his feminine side, because there weren't much songs and choreos that suited him and so he had had to bend himself to fit with the others.
And so when I see him leaning a certain way I tend to wonder if his exterior environment is playing a role in that. I hope you can understand that.
He is a contemporary dancer and strength and flexibility are prerequisites for his craft. The company go out of their way to incorporate contemporary dance in their choreos for JM's sake which helps solve that problem of him trying too hard to look a certain way.
May be I'm projecting. May be my little brother is effeminate and I've always recommended Jimin as a role for him to tell him not to try to look different just because other boys look different. May be I've seen him try one too many times to kill himself in the gym trying to build on muscles and getting frustrated with himself because he ends up looking like someone else. You can't gym the queerness away. Society will never let you be who you want to be so you might as well flip it the middle finger.
These boys are being shaped by their environment. I hate to say this but the environment they are in isn't exactly progressive and the longer they stay in there cut off from the outside world...
Flying out helps. Meeting different people and being exposed to different cultures and conversations on gender expression helps.
Anywho, these are just concerns I have. Will have them till I see that's not where he is headed towards. But let's not act like these ad campaigns do not and can not psychologically impact these boys especially as these advertisers are not looking to tap into their own definition of gender and masculinity but shape it and redefine it to appeal to the demographic they intend to market to.
I think this is just a grey area for me. Rather than try to change JM to look a certain way in order to sell alcohol. I think the ground breaking thing would be to have a man who looks like JM show us how someone like him would sell a can of drink. I think that would be revolutionary.
Signed,
GOLDY
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Aware || Geraskier Ficlet
Read on ao3 here, or continue below.
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Jaskier is a mess of bandages.
He’s lying on the bed, limp— asleep. His chest rises with a shallow rhythm that Geralt tracks despite himself.
There are bloody rags all over the floor. More blood in drops leading from the door to the bed. Geralt’s hands are red, cold and wet.
But Jaskier is resting now. The work is done. The stitches; moments of frantic focus, feeling every second as it slips past Geralt’s fingers.
Jaskier is a mess of hidden wounds. Geralt doesn’t know if it is better this way— to not see the slashes in his chest, the long slice across his forehead. White strips of fabric, and then grey and brown when the innkeeper ran out. They’re clean though. She swore on her mother’s grave when Geralt growled out the question. She’d helped him when Jaskier’s body could not be held up alone. Wrinkles set in tense concentration. Quick responses to snapped orders. He doesn’t know when she left. He didn’t notice—
He hadn’t noticed. He hadn’t noticed. He hadn’t been watching—
Jaskier is a mess. Fuck. He’ll be so mad when he wakes. Dirt caked in his hair, grime on his arms and hands. His shirt is unsalvageable, his pants stained and scuffed. Geralt doesn’t know for certain if it will wash out, and somehow the lack of answer — because Jaskier will ask — makes his hands clench into fists. He could ask the innkeeper. He should get water to— to clean Jaskier up, just a little, while he rests. He should— He should’ve—
Jaskier is wounded, hurt. It isn’t a novel phenomenon. Trouble smells his presence from a mile away. Monsters, witches, rival bards. “Bait,” Geralt said once, “that’s what you’re good for.” Jaskier had laughed. Geralt doesn’t see the joke in it anymore.
Because it was alright before. He got hurt— he got fixed up, end of story. There is danger to be expected traveling at a Witcher’s side, and Jaskier took the risk with that knowledge at hand. There were moments where Geralt wished him to be gone— to not have come with him, to stay out of the way, stay safe — but it was alright, because Jaskier is stubborn, and would likely find many more dangers on his own accord. At least Geralt could keep him in sight. At least he would be aware of what lay ahead and could prepare for it. There are dangers to wandering with a Witcher, but there is safety too. A sword and unnatural senses, keeping the worst of the world at bay.
So he should’ve seen it coming.
There is nothing to blame— no monster, no wild hunt plot. Jaskier had not gone off the path, followed him despite warnings, or otherwise played the fool and got himself into danger. They had not even been on contract. Just passing through, on their way to a nearby village.
It had been a beautiful summer day and it ended in blood. There is nothing and no one to blame but Geralt.
Jaskier’s head twitches slightly. His breathing hitching once and then again. A soft rumble of a cough. Geralt can see it hurts him— his face contorting in an open way only unconsciousness would allow. But he doesn’t wake from it. Geralt holds still, arms crossed, pressing them against his own chest to keep himself there. He wants to— he wants to go over and check. One more time. Just once. He shouldn’t. He should leave— for a little while. Thank the innkeeper. He doesn’t remember her name.
Geralt stands at the door, stuck and watching until night falls.
Jaskier doesn’t wake.
So he checks. Just once.
A hand laid gently on Jaskier’s cheek. Clammy skin warns of fever.
“It will cool soon,” Geralt murmurs. He lets his finger trail the red blush, feels the shape of it as it pulls in air. In and out. “Just rest, Jaskier. Rest and be well.”
A knock, sharp on the chamber door. Geralt pulls back as if burned. He reaches for his sword, swearing under his breath. Distracted, again. Unaware, again.
“Can I enter?”
The innkeeper.
Geralt takes a breath, sheaths his sword. “Be quiet, he is sleeping.”
She takes it as permission, even though Geralt isn’t sure he meant it that way. The idea of another person here, while Jaskier lies vulnerable, makes his skin itch. Even if she was the one who helped him. As if she is any danger.
The door opens as silently as it can, but the squeaking noise doesn’t stir Jaskier. She pushes it closed with her hip— hands full with a tray of food.
Geralt frowns at it, conflicted. “He’s sleeping.”
The innkeeper frowns back. “This is for you.”
Her words are final. Geralt says nothing. He’s not the one that needs care, but explaining that to her seems a waste of time. He’ll save it for when Jaskier wakes. It shouldn’t be too long now.
“How is he faring?” she is saying, while rounding the bed to put the tray on the side table. Hands freed, she reaches out to pluck on Jaskier’s bandages.
Geralt almost growls at her for it, but he swallows it down. He grits his teeth and says, “Fever coming.”
“Hmm.” Now her fingers are on Jaskier’s face. “Some wet rags will do him well. I’ll get them for you.”
Geralt manages to speak only when she finally steps away from the bed. “Thank you.”
She turns and then looks at him— eyes flicking up and down with a quick intensity — and puts her hands on her hips. “And when I return, you will go wash yourself—”
Geralt is already shaking his head.
“—in the river.” She dips her chin and adds, “This is not an argument, Master Witcher. I allowed your entrance because it was an emergency, but I do not want you tramping dirt and blood all over my establishment. I will watch him while you’re gone, if that is what you’re worried about. Not that he’ll be going anywhere.”
Geralt swallows, his jaw twitching. He wants to refuse, but there is nothing he can say that isn’t I can’t bear to leave him now. There is nothing that she would understand. And he should go. He shouldn’t allow himself to indulge in this. That heavy, sluggish feeling that has been growing within him for months now. The one that rose and rose, filling him up from the inside so that nothing else would fit beside it— not even the sound of a bow being drawn, an arrow being loosed, until it was too late. He should leave it here, sticky and dark, rip himself from it so that his mind is uninhabited by useless thoughts that hold his attention and keep it there like an anchor to a ship, stuck, heavy, impossible to drag along unless the chain is cut through.
So he nods, and steels himself.
The first steps feel like molasses. His ears are yet filled with the sound of Jaskier’s breath, but once he nears the door the volume lessens and with it his chest tightens. He has to check— he must check, just once— but he continues. Pulling himself out of the room, cutting the chain. Until he can only see the slightest hint of Jaskier’s form and then that is gone again.
It hurts to continue walking, but Geralt is used to doing exactly that. So he pushes through until he’s left the inn— left Jaskier— far behind.
New sounds fill his ears. The river, trickling between rocks; nightingales, singing up to the moon; the wind, blowing between leaves and grass. And yet somehow Geralt barely hears any of it. Jaskier’s breathing might be gone, but other sounds take up their place; the clang of sword against sword, the cursed orders of the leading brute, Jaskier’s gasped “Geralt!” just before he slumps to the ground.
Geralt lets them haunt him while he washes. Jaskier’s blood swirling in the crystal clear water. He watches it go and then sits, for just a moment.
Another memory— earlier, just before. Another sound. Laughter, like a chime. Geralt doesn’t remember why anymore.
But it had been beautiful— a beautiful summer day, traveling together. Just passing through. The feeling had been there— everywhere, warming him, being called forward by that laugh until he was filled with it. Geralt had been focused, attention anchored, to Jaskier’s joy.
He hadn’t heard them coming.
It was a simple trap, really. Only a small trench covered by bushes, enough to fit seven men if they laid on their stomach. Bandits, the garden variety. The kind that is exactly stupid enough to attack a Witcher and expect to live.
In all likeliness, the arrow was meant for Geralt. He’d been the true threat— they would have expected Jaskier to co-operate easily. But something had gone wrong, or their bowman just could not aim. And it had hit Jaskier instead.
The laughter cut silent at once.
Geralt had killed all of them, of course. They had attacked together and Geralt had taken them out one by one and then dropped to his knees by Jaskier’s side.
For one endless moment, he’d seen the blood spreading over Jaskier’s chest and thought, It’s his heart. They hit him in his heart.
But it wasn’t. The arrow had struck him, but got stuck on his fucking journal— the foolish words a blessing for once. The blood was coming from slashes that he’d gotten in the fight— Geralt not fast enough to protect him. He’d been hit over the head and knocked out cold. He was bleeding profusely but it wasn’t his heart. There was a chance.
The thing inside Geralt had roared and grown several more sizes in the time it took to reach the village with the unconscious body of Jaskier in his arms. By the time he got him inside, there was a moment where he almost couldn’t let him go— couldn’t stand to put him in the bed. But he had to, so he did.
Geralt breathes in and steps out of the river, pushing the memories away. That was long enough. It is time — he needs — to go back.
Just to check. Just once.
#geraskier#geraskier fic#geralt of rivia#Jaskier#witcher#the witcher#geralt/jaskier#witcher fic#myfic#ficlet#hello crew#long time no see#life has been a bit of an oof#and creativity has been hard#so when i wrote this today I was like#lets get it out there#its been long enough#hopefully this will inspire me to write more#any positive vibes are appreciated#and how are yall doin?
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The Critique of Manners Part VI
~Or~
An Attempt at an Objective Review of Emma (2009)... VOLUME TWO
Haha, bitches you didn't think I could wait a whole week did you? Nah, not me. and guys, I added to it--all total, it's 9,023 words now. this half of the review is 5,214. HOW DO I HAVE SO MANY WORDS FOR THIS THING? I'm not gonna split it into a third part, because I don't need to for picture limit purposes, but buckle in.
If you didn't catch it, read part 1 here
Here it is, the stunning conclusion to my Emma Adaptation Review series (but this isn't really the end because I plan on doing some rankings later). In this half of my review of BBC'S Emma (2009) we'll discuss Costumes and all the very specific things that I love about this version, and some things I don't like, and some things I'm here to defend.
Let's dive in!
Costumes
Generally I liked these costumes pretty well. They were designed and facilitated by Rosalind Ebbutt, also known for her work on PBS’s Victoria and Vanity Fair (1998). And her work is, as her filmography would suggest, by turns, great and so-so.
These costumes are definitely in line with the adaptation’s general aesthetic: warm pinks and golds, with mints emeralds and blues to cool it off a little, are the order of the day. I really appreciate that every character has a definite color palette. The tradeoff is that this adaptation is the WORST EVER offender for the Jane Fairfax Blue™ trope.
Daywear
Emma’s daywear is full of warm and muted colors. Salmon and magenta are commonly seen. I love that most of Emma’s daywear consists of sleeveless or short-sleeved gowns with wide-sleeved linen blouses underneath. It’s not a commonly seen aesthetic so it feels light and fresh. My favorite of Emma’s daywear dresses is the pale yellow with purple floral print.
There’s one other in particular that I love.
Emma’s blue, sleeveless dress. I love this because of HOW OBVIOUSLY it’s a reference to this portrait of Charlotte, Princess of Wales. I mean...
I’M NOT IMAGINING THIS, RIGHT? WHY DOES NO ONE TALK ABOUT THIS? This is a REAL dress. They still have this exact gown of Princess Charlotte’s. It’s on display. It’s faded, but it’s the same dress.
Harriet has a fresh and innocent green, white and purple color scheme with healthy doses of peach and pink showing. I particularly like her white and purple floral print dress.
Mrs. Weston’s color palette varies, but leans heavily on tans and purples, which is very flattering, I must say, to Johdi May’s coloring and is really refreshing for Mrs. Weston who seems to get stuck in pinks and yellows a lot. No idea what’s going on with the laced-front dress though? This doesn’t quite read as authentic to me, but I do like that her first dress seems to be an apron-front.
I know I already said that this is the worst Jane Fairfax Blue™ offender, but guys I can’t stress it enough. WE ARE 5/5 ON DAYWEAR HERE. LOOK AT THAT. (Also of note, Jane 5 is one of Gwyneth Paltrow’s dresses from the '96 Emma.)
Mrs. Elton seems, at all times, to be wearing some form of pink, but I think I’m right in saying that the white day dress with the rose patterned bodice under the yellow and pink spencer is one of Jane’s dresses from P&P ’80. Can anyone confirm that? They did sneak in some Mrs. Elton Orange™ though, for Box Hill, and it’s worth noting that Mrs. Elton is the only lady who’s appropriately dressed on that occasion.
Isabella gets some understated day gowns that are very nice and also VERY “Jane Austen” in the sense that I feel like Jane Austen herself might have worn them.
Miss Bates, unfortunately is slapped with brown at just about every turn, but at least her “Nice” day outfit has some subtle leaf patterns, which is refreshing. Also Mrs. Goddard has a slappin’ cap. Love that.
Also, Harriet’s Grecian costume for the painting (upper right hand corner). What can I say, but that I love it. I love that it hints at the neoclassical influences on Regency fashion too. This is my favorite interpretation of the painting too.
Evening Wear
You know what I love about this version? It’s the first version of Emma where her gown for the Crown in Ball isn’t WHITE. I know, I know white was fashionable, but it’s just… it’s nice for not EVERY gown in a ball scene to be plain white friggin muslin and also, it’s not one she’s ever worn before, which is great.
Harriet does have only white evening gowns but that’s okay. My only complaint is that, specifically on her Crown Inn dress and in a lot of her costumes in general, the waistline seems just a little low. Hmm. I really like the pale blue pattern on her first evening dress though.
Mrs. Weston though. Woo. Look at those. She has a dark chartreuse gown with black lace trim that any other version would have put on Mrs. Elton, so you know from the dark tones that she’s a bitch. Not so with Emma '09, and that’s good. And her teal dinner number is a favorite of mine. I never paid much attention to her green and gold ball gown but it has some really beautiful, subtle leaf or maybe peacock feather patterns on it and I love that. My only problem is that there seem to be some fit issues. She’s got muffin top way too often. Her orange evening dress is a bit of a dud though, firstly, because it has long sleeves (which is an evening gown no-no) and the fabric slaps a bit too much of sari fabric for my tastes.
Jane, not only is put in blue with both of her evening gowns (although one is so pale it borders on white), ONE of them is another Emma ’96 repeat and not only that, it’s one of Jane Fairfax’s dresses in that film! Perhaps that’s enough to make it an homage, and I have to say, I think Laura Pyper wore it better.
Miss Bates only has one evening wear ensemble, but at least it’s cream and not brown.
Mrs. Elton’s gowns are surprisingly understated, and yet still seem to be annoyingly fussy and, what’s better? They’re not sickly green. One of them is actually a very pleasant mint.
Outerwear
Outerwear is roundly pretty great here. Emma’s primary choice of color for spencers is emerald/evergreen and one of them is Elizabeth’s Bennet’s from the 1995 P&P (though to be honest, I think Jennifer Ehle filled it out better.) I do love Mrs. Elton’s pink and yellow number with the slashed sleeves. Jane Fairfax’s only spencer is, you guessed it, blue, but her friend Miss Campbell has a rather fun mauve one.
There’s no shortage of pelisses and redingotes either. Harriet can be seen in one borrowed from Elinor Dashwood in the '08 S&S, Mrs. Weston has a rather fabulous purple one which she wears with the most delicious looking hat I’ve ever seen.
Emma has two. The first one is a great magenta number with military braiding (and I think she wears with it one of the brown slouch hats that Kate Beckinsale wore in the same role) and while the other pelisse is brown, they had the sense not to make her wear a hat with it that was also brown. Instead, they gave her a contrasting color. Good on ya, Rosalind!
Speaking of hats, I don't often single them out for commentary, but I want to here because… the hat authenticity is… kinda spotty. Let me show you.
Okay first of all, Emma may be a teenager in this pic on the upper left, but she is not dressed formally enough for her sister’s wedding (which is what’s going on in this scene) but at least her hat is pretty good. You can see the ribbons are on the inside of the hat here, which is as it should be… but she never wears this hat again. At any point in the series. Instead, we next see her in the one on the upper right and ye gads this is atrocious. WHY IS HER HAT NOT PINNED ON? IT’S SLIDING DOWN THE BACK OF HER HEAD. SOMONE FIX IT. PLEASE. But wait, there’s more. This kills me because these bottom two are so similar to the one she wore earlier (the correct one) but crappier looking. Jeez.
This is not a hat. It’s a peanut. You know who doesn’t have this problem? Harriet. She only has one sun hat but at least it’s correct.
I also wanna touch briefly on this ^ costume continuity issue.
WTF is this? She’s in the hall, her ribbon is contoured to the line of her dress; she goes into the drawing room and… it isn’t anymore? Wha happun?
I took more menswear screencaps for this version than any other version. And that’s because the men just have more outfits that are, y’know, different from each other.
Mr. Knightley is as understated as ever, but I wanna highlight the first pic there and why I love it. This is Knightley’s first appearance in the series and it’s the perfect establishing shot that shows the viewer everything they need to know about Emma and Knightley’s relationship and how it has always been. He sort of materializes, out of focus in the background, but Emma immediately knows he’s there. And to accentuate how much Knightley is part of her home and scenery, his clothes (similar shades of pale tan, white and minty green to the wall behind him) almost camouflage him and make him seem at one with the moulding.
He also has a rather lovely blue evening waistcoat that I WISH I could have gotten better shot of (although I do believe it’s also worn by Henry Crawford in the '07 Mansfield Park, so for further reading…)
Mr. Weston finally gets to wear clothes that aren’t all brown! He only has ONE brown outfit. He gets PATTERNED waistcoats, one of them a rather spiffing blue and brown striped number. And he wears TROUSERS! Because he’s a gentleman, and he’s not that old and trousers are worn by fashionable gentlemen in this period!
You know who else gets to wear trousers and at least one fun waistcoat? Mr. Woodhouse. Check out that lovely Sunday Best™ waistcoat. The red striped one. That’s delightful.
John Knightley’s evening wear intrigues me. That’s a double-breasted jacket, and you know I’m not totally sure that’s very authentic for evening-wear of this period, but it is different. Unfortunately he also has a flared top hat and that is definitely not on for this period.
One of my favorite things about this version is that they don’t dress Mr. Elton as a clergyman all the time. Yes, he may be the vicar, but he’s also allowed to dress like a fashionable, handsome young man. So I’m really happy that he gets to flex his fashion muscles here.
And speaking of fashionable young men, FINALLY frank gets to be COLORFUL and his trousers are even tight enough. Both he AND Elton are often seen wearing TWO waistcoats, as I would expect them to, and even though Frank’s a dandy, he knows that flashiness is gauche so his pops of color are bright, but not in your face. His green and red waistcoats are always worn under more muted colors, and I just love it.
The only problems are… what’s with the turned-down waistcoat collars? There’s no precedent for this, in fact I think it’s directly contradictory to the style at the time, and also it makes the cravats look a bit unruly.
A Critique of Manners
A lot has been said about the manners in this adaption. Like, the actual manners, body language and facial expressions, specifically vis-à-vis Romola Garai.
And, oh yeah, there’s a lot to pick at here, but first I’d like to talk about the facial expressions.
I'm mostly gonna be talking out of my ass here, but this is my take, so if anyone can make a better argument against my points, I am listening, because I don't really like talking out of my ass and I like to be informed. That said...
I tend to be lenient on the… exaggerated facial expressions because, something I’ve noticed reading Austen’s works through the last several months is that Austen is very descriptive when it comes to facial expressions and I just find it hard to believe that people in the Regency Era never made exaggerated expressions like this.
I’ve heard a lot about how Garai’s Emma is not dignified or lady-like. But let’s think about the context of Emma Woodhouse – she’s never been in society. She’s only had a governess to teach her, and we know Emma’s always been sort of averse to being told what she can and can’t do. Emma is the highest ranking woman in her social circle (barring Isabella’s occasional presence). Emma doesn’t have to be ladylike. At 21, she’s already her local Lady Catherine. She puts a lot of stock in her position in society but, as Mrs. Elton will be the first to hypocritically point out, she’s very poorly behaved. I'd be very curious to see what would happen if Emma went to London for the season. Probably, she'd be seen, comparatively, as a country bumpkin. Can you imagine how she might get on in a sea of accomplished young ladies? She can barely handle having ONE rival with any kind of grace.
Austen never describes bodily movements of the kind we’re looking at when we watch adaptations, so why not have Emma’s body-language be un-ladylike in the conventional sense of the time? I’m not saying this to excuse the absolutely inexcusable (Frank’s head in her lap, kneeling on the sofa backwards etc.), but while Emma’s mannerisms aren’t exactly ladylike for her time, they’re not overtly masculine either (which was one of my biggest problem with Death Comes to Pemberly for example.)
Yes, there’s an ideal for manners. But we know real people didn’t always follow those ideals. In dancing for example, many dancing guidebooks of the day were full of repeated instructions not to be too loud or rambunctious when dancing. What this tells us is that people were doing just that, and probably quite a bit, too. I think that, while taking societal strictures into account, we shouldn’t totally discount the idea that people in the Regency weren’t really that different from us, and young people especially.
Now I’ve already mentioned some of the inexcusable aspects of interaction in this adaptation and they’re so notorious at this point, I don’t think that I really need to go over them much here. Although I will say: is it ridiculous to have Frank Churchill put his head in Emma’s lap? Yes. Did it make me more viscerally uncomfortable with the situation on Box Hill than any other version? Yes.
I was like, 14 when I watched this the first time. This was an effective way to telegraph to young people like me that Emma is being extremely inappropriate here in a way that no other version really managed to, even when I watched them when I was older and understood the period more. I’m far more acquainted with Regency manners than I was then, but to be honest – if they had been accurate with the manners here, when I was 14 I would not have understood what the big deal was. Is there merit in circumventing historical accuracy in favor of reaching a less-informed but still-interested audience? Yes, I think so. There were three other versions of this, at that point, that did this scene with more or less pristine manners. Not every version has to follow the manners of the time to-the-letter to be good. That’s my feeling on the matter.
There are things that do really bother me though. Like the idea that Harriet Smith doesn’t know how to spoon soup, for instance. As I said in my review for the Miramax version, table manners are pretty basic, there’s no reason Mrs. Goddard wouldn’t have taught Harriet this. It does provide a good moment to show Emma tacitly coaching Harriet and showing the trajectory in which this relationship will go, but personally I don’t think it was necessary—there are plenty of other ways that could be done.
Also: kids at the dinner table? I know this is part of building the familial atmosphere but it really does annoy me, because apart from building the familial atmosphere (which they do very well and frequently in other ways) it really didn’t need to happen, and it doesn’t add anything.
The Heart of Highbury
So, as I’ve hinted at throughout this review, the bread and butter of this adaptation of Emma is emotion. This version goes hard and heavy on showingthe relationships – Emma’s relationships with Mrs. Weston, Mr. Knightley, her father, her sister, her brother-in-law, Miss Bates; Jane’s relationship with Frank; Frank’s relationship with his father; The John Knightleys’ home life – and it illustrates things that can be surmised from just reading the story, but really draws your attention to them in ways that other adaptations just don’t.
It does this from the very beginning with the prologue which explains in detail (not just in quick exposition between characters) how Jane and Frank were separated from their families at young ages. We know now, from psychological study, that being taken away from their primary caretakers during their formative years is one of the most psychologically traumatizing things for a child. This is deeply important context which is explained in detail by the narrator in 2-3 large pages (in my Barnes & Noble anthology) in the book.
In the featurette on the houses, they talk particularly about Hartfield and the Woodhouses being the heart of Highbury and how they particularly wanted it to feel homey because Hartfield is Emma’s house and they wanted the audience to feel why everyone is so drawn to it, and to Emma; to me that is what they did with the whole adaptation in microcosm.
I usually talk a bit about the dancing and I'm going to here as well because this is maybe the most special dance scene in any Austen for me. Of course I'm going to link to Tea with Cassiane as usual because she knows what she's talking about and I don't. But I wanna add some comments. She gives this a pretty low rating in spite of a generally favorable commentary because of two big oopsies, the circle dance formation is one, and the other is I believe, an issue with the style of dance not matching the tune in Emma's dance with Knightley. Throwing out any objective technical analysis though, this is my favorite Ball in any Austen and it all comes down to the cornerstone of this adaptation--emotion.
All of the songs and dances were original compositions and choreography made for this adaptation. So they're not period per se, but the tunes at least are representative of how Regency dance music should sound. These dances are upbeat, and lively and, damn they look like fun. Everyone is excited here and it makes me understand why dancing was such a big thing. Best of all that excitement adds to the emotional charge of the scene. "The Ship's Cook" is the most fast paced dance and I'm glad they made this the dance where Elton snubs Harriet because it really hits for me just what Harriet would be missing out on if Knightley wasn't so fucking aptly named. In all other versions you get the insult, but the dance that's taking place is usually a Baroque walker so it doesn't seem terribly like she's missing out on much. Here, this is like not getting picked for kickball-- not only is it a slight that no one wants you on their team, but you miss out on even playing the game. Harriet looks so lonely, and her feeling of being out of place rolls off of Louise Dylan so forcefully it chokes me up just thinking about it because I've been there, man. I feel this shit. *dabs eyes*. Ahem. So, yes, when Knightley engages her for the dance the excitement the viewer feels is that much more forceful and Harriet's exuberantly starting to jump in when the timing is off and Knightley gently pulling her back, it just hits me in the feels center, guys. (I wanna take a moment to give a shout out to every camp counselor who ever partnered with me for any game at summer camp.) Emma's reaction too, is gold. Her genuine relief at Knightley swooping in is one of those great reminders that Emma is Harriet's friend, and she does care about her.
Finally on the dancing front, I wanna talk about Emma's dance with Knightley and why I prefer it to the one in the 2020 version. I already talked about this a bit in the 2020 review, so I'm gonna try and keep it brief. That shouldn't be too hard, because I'm probably mostly going to repeat a lot of what I've already said about Emma and Knightley in this version as a whole.
The big thing everyone loves about the Crown Inn dance in the 2020 is the yearning, the sexual tension, the quivering touches etc. Don't get me wrong, I LOVE all of those things but... not all the time. Not in everything, and definitely not in Emma. Because Emma, to me, isn't about repressed sexuality or heated tension or seething passion. Emma and Knightley are the opposite of that, to me, really. One of my mutuals put it best, I think: "Emma and Knightley are more suited to stolen glances than hot touches."
In Part 1 I talked about how Knightley is Emma's comfort object. When Emma is out of sorts, Knightley re-centers her. It helps set up, and puts emphasis on, the crisis of the story in the last act--Emma not knowing what she has until [she thinks] she's lost it. Emma and Knightley are Friends to Lovers done as it should be. She is already so comfortable with him she doesn't even realize her own feelings. She just feels right with Knightley and that's what this dance is here to show you--a foreshadowing of matrimonial harmony.
The dance itself, of course, is always up to interpretation, because Austen never describes how it goes, just that Knightley asks Emma to dance and Knightley doesn't dance (barring charitable causes). If you prefer the sexual tension take, if that, to you is an improvement on Austen's story and gives you what you've always felt was missing, I'm glad that there is a version now that gives you what you've been looking for, but for me, I think the 09 approach hits closer their dynamic in the book.
Now do I do think the Emphasis on emotion maybe went a little too earnest in some places in this adaptation? Maybe. Just a little.
In my last review (1972) I went on a rather lengthy tirade about the scene where they turn Emma’s appeals to Harriet to exert herself and move on following Mr. Elton’s marriage into Emma guilting Harriet into thinking she’s a bad friend for being heartbroken and then throwing her into the situation most likely to rub salt in that particular wound.
In this version, while I love the emphasis they put on the stress Emma puts on her own guilt for being the reason for Harriet’s situation in the first place, I think it’s maybe a little too… much.
That’s the only way I can put it. I know I’ve just said that I think there should be a bit more expressiveness in period drama, but this doesn’t quite match the way I read it (Emma’s a bit less desperate in Austen’s prose. Very dedicated to helping Harriet feel better, but just a skosh more composed). I think she’s even crying in this scene.
While we’re here let’s go over to Box Hill ONE. MORE. TIME.
First of all, this is where this screenplay shines, in my opinion. This is the big turning point in the story and as such, should be a touchstone for the judgment of any adaptation. This sequence in the 2009 version is a perfect crystallization of everything I love about this version—namely that this is the version that, to me, most feels like someone read the book thoroughly, paid attention to what Austen was describing and then actually tried to convey it on screen. A lot of other versions sort of feel (to me), like the director glanced at the page and said “here’s what I want to convey in my version”. Insofar as making a piece of art goes, that’s good. Directors are artists as much as painters are and movies are their canvass, but it’s seldom that you find a director who honestly wants to hit as close to the author intent as possible and this Box Hill sequence makes me feel like that’s what Jim O’Hanlon was going for. I have the book open next to me as I write this and it’s shocking to me how minutely the atmosphere described in the book is conveyed here. Most of all, the fact that Emma’s insulting Miss Bates is not the only thing faux pas she makes here. Box Hill as a whole is a disaster, and it’s largely because of Frank.
“When they all sat down it was better; to [Emma’s] taste, a great deal better, for Frank Churchill grew talkative and gay, making her his first object. To amuse her, and to be agreeable in her eyes, seemed to be all that he cared for—and Emma, glad to be enlivened, and not sorry to be flattered, was gay and easy too, and gave him all the friendly encouragement, the admission to be gallant, which she had ever given in the first and most animating period of their acquaintance; but which now, in her own estimation, meant nothing, though in the judgment of most people looking on it must have had such an appearance as no English word but flirtation could very well describe. “Mr. Frank Churchill and Miss Woodhouse flirted excessively.” They were laying themselves open to that very phrase—and to having it sent off in a letter to Maple Grove by one lady, to Ireland by another. Not that Emma was gay and thoughtless from any real felicity; it was rather because she felt less happy than she expected. She laughed because she was disappointed…” --Emma, Chapter 43
Most other versions rush through Frank’s “excessive” flirting with Emma (Right in front of Jane) to get to “Three Things Very Dull Indeed” as fast as possible, and yes that’s the crowning horror of Box Hill, but there’s a very intricate setting here, too, and this version has the time to lay back and let it all unfold in the oppressive discomfort of an English summer day.
Even better than all of that though is Knightley confronting Emma after it all goes down. This treatment is neither plaintive, nor aggressive as it was in ‘96 and ‘97 respectively. I’ve already extolled the virtues of Johnny Flynn’s Box Hill rebuke, but for a change I’m not going to zero in on Miller’s performance which is, at least as good as Flynn’s, but on Romola Garai’s, which I find superior to Anya Taylor Joy’s. Specifically, her reaction once she’s alone.
ATJ in the 2020 version immediately breaks down sobbing and it’s hard for me to feel that she’s sobbing for “anger against herself, mortification, and deep concern” or that there’s much self-reflection going on there. To me it rather just feels like she’s crying because she got shouted at. The theatrics of it, to me, feel childish and self-centered.
I don’t feel that with Garai’s performance.
“She was vexed beyond what could have been expressed—almost beyond what she could conceal. Never had she felt so agitated, mortified, grieved, at any circumstance in her life. She was most forcibly struck . . . How could she have exposed herself to such ill opinion in anyone she valued! And how to suffer him to leave her without saying one word of gratitude, of concurrence, of common kindness!
Time did not compose her…” --Emma, Chapter 43
Of course one can make the case that Emma's reaction should be a bit childish because Emma is an immature character, but that's the thing--I can agree with you anywhere else in this story but this is Emma's maturing moment. This is her turning point as a character. It's where we should see her reactions shift from the same childish denial we're used to seeing when Knightley scolds her, because this is different. It's not the usual brushing off of big brother Knightley, this is a young woman reacting to an esteemed friend pointing out how abhorrently inappropriate she's been and her having to admit that to herself.
I didn't really want to drag comparisons to the 2020 film into this, not on this scale at least, but this just jumped out at me the last time I watched the new film and I have to express it somewhere.
What I see in Garai’s performance is desolation and mortification. That shocked tearfulness of knowing you’ve been justly reproached for wrongdoing, but being too frozen in a pretense of composure to actually cry about it until you’re quite sure that no one will see you. And especially when it’s someone you esteem rebuking you, the horror of them leaving before you can admit that they’re right. There’s so much more depth here, I think, and I can’t even quite express what it makes me feel.
The aspect of time not composing her is another thing that they decided to put stress on in this version. Emma looks fucked up in the following scenes. When she goes to see Miss Bates, she clearly either hasn’t slept or has slept very badly. I feel like this is maybe an anticlimactic conclusion to this section but I’m afraid I’m very close to reaching incoherence, so I’m just gonna leave it here.
My absolute favoritest thing about this version though—something that sets it apart from ALL other versions and even adaptations of other Austen stories—is the inclusion of the post-confession conversation.
This is something of a trope in Austen books but it very rarely finds its way into adaptations: confessions of love are out of the way, the hero and heroine settle into an easy an comfortable conversation, glowing with happiness as they explain and laugh over their actions and misinterpretations of each other’s choices. It happens in Pride and Prejudice, in Persuasion, and yes, in Emma. This is the only Austen adaptation, that I've seen, to include this kind of conversation in any kind of detail. The 1995 Pride and Prejudice alludes to the corresponding scene in it its source material, but the lines pulled from it get tossed into the confession scene itself and then it flies through to get to the obligatory wedding—a side effect of rushing through endings, a convention I’m rather tired of.
Emma (2009) takes its time with this, as with all other aspects of this adaptation. For a version that’s so full of energy, its pacing is extremely laid back and comfortable, without dragging. When you hear the gentle musical swell and Emma and Knightley have their kiss (this whole confession sequence is so sweet and wonderful in its own right), you expect that to be it. But no, we cut to them, the picture of contented happiness, sitting together on a bench overlooking Hartfield’s garden, just talking and enjoying being together, with no teasing, no pretense. If Jane Austen stories emphasize anything, it’s the importance of communication in relationships, and I think that’s maybe why she made it a point in almost every story to show her characters communicating their feelings in words, even after all the conflict has been resolved. This is my favorite scene in the whole series (In case it being my header image didn’t make that obvious.)
This is followed rather promptly by a cut to the next day, with Emma bursting in to Donwell in hysterics about how they can’t be married because she won’t leave her father alone.
This is one of those maybe over-the-top choices that a lot of people don’t like, but guys, it was so funny to me when I was fourteen and it still makes me laugh. It might seem outlandish, but to me it’s just the emphasis on personal relationships and emotion coming through again and it always makes me smile.
Final Thoughts
It’s hard for me to give a proper round up of my feelings for this section because I think I’ve poured just about all of my feelings on each aspect into its dedicated sections.
At the end of the day, the only thing that really disappoints me about this version is the number of missed opportunities there are here. One of my favorite parts of reading Austen is when I run across a line in dialogue or narrative that just… slaps. But they never make it into the adaptations. Emma is full of them and I just wish that Sandy Welch could have taken an opportunity to slip a few of them in.
In summary, I think this is a wonderful, heartfelt adaptation aimed at getting to the emotional heart of a story that often gets caught up in the Mean Girl-ness of its main character than the coming of age story that it is. It's one of my favorite period dramas because it's one of the few that really captures the spirit of the source material as it's always felt to me. There's really only two other period dramas that I esteem on the same level as this, and they're North & South (2004) and Jane Eyre (2011) and it's for the same reasons; because they impact me deeply on an emotional level--which is what art is supposed to do--because of how well it captures the essence of the story that I know and love.
So did I succeed in a more objective review of Emma 2009? I' feel like probably not. But I tried my best. It’s so hard to be objective about something that makes you as happy as this adaptation makes me.
Ribbon Rating: Most Agreeable (83 Ribbons)
Tone: 10
Casting: 9
Acting: 9
Scripting: 7
Pacing: 10
Cinematography: 7
Setting: 9
Costumes: 6
Music: 8
Book Accuracy: 8
#emma 2009#emma woodhouse#mr. knightley#jane austen#jane austen emma#romola garai#jonny lee miller#period dramas#regency
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Chapter 5- Lamentis 1
Prologue:https://ilovemarvelanne1.tumblr.com/post/657924038358908928/youre-not-him-loki-x-femreader-prologue
Chapter1:https://ilovemarvelanne1.tumblr.com/post/657924201329672192/youre-not-him-chapter-1
Chapter2:https://ilovemarvelanne1.tumblr.com/post/657925667989667840/youre-not-him-chapter-2
Chapter3:https://ilovemarvelanne1.tumblr.com/post/657926281710665728/youre-not-him-chapter-3
Chapter4:https://ilovemarvelanne1.tumblr.com/post/657927155478659072/youre-not-him-chapter-4
You and Loki just make it through the Time door and you're.....back at the TVA
"Wait, why are we back here?" Loki asks, confused.
"Loki, she knows where the Time keepers are!" you say and begin running toward the door.
"Wait!" Loki calls out.
"What?" you walk back and ask.
Taking his daggers out of the locker, he looks at you and says, " Be careful, I don't want you to get hurt."
Face softening, you smile and say, " Don't worry about me, I took on a Mad Titan, I can be careful."
Loki's eyebrows go up at the mention of this 'Mad Titan' but he doesn't say anything.
"Come on, let's go!" you say and run out, him closely following you.
~~
Readying your knives you slowly walk across the corridor, alert and ready to fight. Loki is doing the same except you have your hood on nd no one can see your face. As you keep walking you come across two bodies of some minute-men she killed.
Walking faster, both of you get there just in time.
Flipping your knives, you wait, but the ass can't help himself.
" A few questions" He asks, making you roll your eyes.
" Have you got nothing better to do?" she asks.
" I agree with her." you say making her smirk.
Ignoring what you just said, Loki makes his way behind her, "Rude, are you sure you're a Loki?" he asks, pointing his dagger at her.
"You're in my way" she says
"You are my way!" Loki quips back.
At this point, you're leaning against the wall, playing with a knife as you watch the scene unfold.
Finally The Variant unsheathes her Katana and ready to fight, she swings it at Loki, but he dodges it and is pushed back almost colliding with you.
"I thought we could work together, but I see you lack vision."
Groaning, she ignores him, walking toward the elevators.
Taking the chance you slip up behind her and using the moment, you kick the back of her knees, causing her to double over in pain.
Loki comes and twists her hand behind her, making her grunt in pain.
"Either, you'll come willingly or not, either way, I get to the time-keepers."
" Oh god. Shut up!" she says and wriggles out his grip, kicking him in the stomach before coming over to you.
Slashing her katana over your head, you duck and kick her in the stomach, causing her to be launched backwards, she extends her arms and manages to cut your cheek whilst being thrown backwards.
Loki gets up and making his way toward her, in a low and gravelly voice, he threatens," Don't ever touch her again." before she pushes him over, the three of you are now fighting, the sound of metal clanging, grunts of pain and the occasional sarcastic quip.
It's when you have a chokehold on her and she's pressing her katana into Loki that Ravonna comes in.
"Come any closer and I'll kill him." she threatens.
" Oh hehe, no darling, you hurt him and I'll kill you," you reply, which for some reason makes Loki's heart flutter.
"Go for it." Ravonna says before making her way towards you.
Just in time, Loki takes The Variant's TemPad and transports all of you somewhere else.
~~
You wake up to see Loki and The Variant fighting like cats and dogs over the TemPad.
" Okay, where the fuck are we?" you ask. You're in a tent somewhere.
" Y/n! Thank goodness, you're alright." Loki says in relief.
Taking your hood off, you look at both of them, just in time to see The Variant's breath hitch.
"Wow, she's beautiful" ,you hear her thoughts.
" Better block your minds both of you, I can hear loud thoughts, thank you, you're really pretty too." you say.
Immediately the barriers come up,, making you smirk
" Thanks." she says her voice friendlier.
Suddenly, a rock is blasted through the roof, making your eyebrows furrow in confusion.
" Where did you send us?" you and The Variant say.
Walking out, you immediately recognize the place, purple, rocky and of course, the planet crashing into it
Lamentis 1
"Oh shit! This is Lamentis 1!" you shout.
"Wait what?" Loki asks.
"You idiot!" The Variant shouts, " We're in Lamentis 1!"
"I don't know what that means!" Loki answers, distressed.
" The moon, that planet is about to crash into and destroy!" you reply.
"Out of all the apocalypses, saved on that TemPad, this is the worst!" she says.
Dodging a few meteorites, the three of you run.
" No one makes it off here!" she shouts.
"Watch out!" you say pulling Loki away just in time.
" Sorry Madam, I didn't have time to scan the brochure!" he shouts back, the three of you taking cover under a rover
" By the way, I thought you wanted me dead!" he said.
" I don't know where you hid that TemPad, but if you blow up, it blows up and then I blow up-There!" she shouted, pointing to a mining shack.
" So we're a team now ?" Loki says running out.
"Oh god no!"
Suddenly, the both of them get surrounded with golden wisps of magic and you find yourselves inside the shack.
"What did you do?!" The Variant shouts in your face.
" Calm down, I teleported the three of us, into the shack, you're welcome." you reply face straight and voice monotone.
"Oh, Thanks." she says awkwardly before touching your forehead, green magic fizzling out.
You can hear Loki shout at her, but you smirk and say, " Darling take your hands of my forehead, It won't work."
"Why?" she asks, her and Loki looking at you in surprise,
" My mind is too strong, it's been taken over a few times, so I know how to block it. I'm Y/n by the way." you reply.
"Huh, cool." she says before making her way to Loki,
"No way, are you going to try enchanting me!" he says,
"Fine!" she says, unsheathing her katana.
Conjuring twin daggers Loki says, " Look are we really about to do this here? Again?" he asks
" Well, what do you propose instead?" she says
" Oh, I don't know a truce? Listen neither of us is getting of this rock if we can't get that TemPad on!" he replies
"Where do you have it hidden?" she shouts
"In my heart!"
"Well then, I'll cut it out!"
"Nice. very droll, lovely."
You had had enough of their petty bickering.
"All right! Both of you SHUT UP!" you shout gaining their attention.]
" I want to get of of this god-forsaken place as much as you do ok? But none of us are getting out of this place if the two of you keep screaming at each other like little children! SO GET YOUR SHIT TOGETHER SO WE CAN HAVE SOME CHANCE OF LEAVING THIS PLACE!" you shout at the end.
The two of them have crossed their arms and look like they're sulking.
" I don't know how to charge a TemPad, I never used one, but I do know, that you need a large power source, and the only way to do that is by getting out of this abandoned mining shack. I've been here before, and there's a town up ahead, if we leave now, we might be able to find a source large enough."
The Variant uncrosses her arms and says, " Alright, a truce."
" A truce." Loki agrees.
" Great, now that you finished making up, we can leave, you say and walk out, the two of them following you.
"I like here." the girl says to Loki.
" I like her too." he agrees looking at you.
~~
" So what's the plan?" Loki asks the Variant, falling behind both of you.
"What Y/n said, there's a town near here, and can you shut up, just because I have to work with you, doesn't mean I want to hear your voice." she shouts back to him.
"Alright, well slow down!"
"What part of imminent death confuses you? and don't call me Variant." she tell him.
"I'm sorry, but I'm not calling some faded photocopy of me Loki." he says
"Good, cause that's not who I am now, I'm Sylvie now."
"Sylvie? Nice name"
" Thank you! I like yours too!" she says smiling.
" Oh good, you changed your name! Brilliant!"
" It's called an alias." she says.
"Not very Loki-like" Loki comments.
" Oh really. what makes a Loki a loki?" you ask
" Independence, Authority, Style." Loki lists out.
" So you naturally went to work for the boring oppressive time-police?" Sylvie pipes in.
" I don't work for them, I'm a consultant."
"Oh, are you now?" you ask smirking.
" Yes." Loki says looking at you.
" You don't know what you want." Sylvie says
" Oh yeah, what about you?" Loki quips back, " Your years-in-the-making plan was to tear the place down, create the ultimate power vaccuum and then walk away? I'd never have done that!" he says, standing back.
" Yeah? Well I'm not you." she replies.
"I like you." you tell Sylvie.
" I like you too." she replies, half-smiling.
Loki looks on, his face a mix of jealousy and disbelief. but who is he jealous of? You or Sylvie?
" Can we get on with this now?" Sylvie says walking away leaving Loki and you alone.
Smiling at him. you reach your hand out to him, "Come on Lokes, let's go, Neither of us are dying today."
His lips quirk up and he takes your hand and both of you walk toward Sylvie, hand-in-hand.
~~
"Brute force is no substitute for diplomacy and guile." Loki tells Sylvie.
" Noted" Sylvie says before kicking the door open, only to be blasted by an energy blast.
Groaning, she turns to face the cabin,
"It's remarkable you ever made it as far as you did." Loki taunts.
"Are you ok?" you mouth to Sylvie.
Nodding she turns her attention to the lady.
" Sorry about that!" Loki says
"Don't be, I enjoyed it." the lady says, still inside the trailer.
" Oh.." he chuckles, " I did too. But I can assure you, despite my acquaintance behaving like an animal, uh we mean you no harm, we're simply weary travellers." he says making you facepalm.
" Sure you are." She replies.
Snooping inside, Loki spies a picture of the lady and her husband, he then casts an illusion to make him look like the husband, before going to the front.
" Hello dear." He says.
" Patrice?" the lady says, face in shock.
Nodding his head and sobbing, he says, " It.. it's been a long time. You're as beautiful as--"
He too get's thrown backwards and this time you audibly groan,
" Ma'am. I'm really sorry what's been happening to you today, but all we want to know is where everybody is, we just want to get out of this place." you say.
" The ark." she replies.
" Um.. what?" you ask, confused.
" The evacuation vessel" she explains.
"Ok, how do we get there?" you ask
" Train station's at the end of town, but you'll never get tickets." she says.
" Okay, thank you very much Ma'am, we'll leave now, and you'll never see us again." you replay and walk over to your partners who look shocked.
"And that's how you do it. Come on, we need to get the train station."
~~
When you reach the train station, you see a huge crown of people waiting in line to board the train.
" How are we going to get in there?" Loki asks
" I can be invisible, so I'm covered." you say
" Is there anything you can't do?" Loki asks, amused.
Apparently I can't move on-
" I suck at mathematics" you shrug and tell him.
Biting his lip and laughing, he shakes head.
" Well, Sylvie we can't fight our way onto that train, we're going to do this my way." saying so, he cast an illusion, now he's wearing the turtleneck uniform, and shit why does he look so good?
" Ok, Y/n? Y/n where are you?" he says suddenly panicking.
" I'm right behind you doofus." you say, now invisible
" How do I look?" he asks Sylvie.
" Like someone with a shit plan." Sylvie says, making you laugh.
" Come on, my legs are hurting!" you say.
" It's a great plan." Loki argues.
"Hmmm." Sylvie hums.
" Just follow my lead." he says, taking her arms and leading her inside.
Why the hell am I feeling jealous? They're basically the same person!
~~( I'm skipping that part, where they get on the train, I hope you don't mind."
"I can't sit, backward on a train." Loki says.
"Well, I never sit my back to a door." Sylvie says
" What there are doors on both sides." he exclaims.
" God! Choose where you want to sit, I'm sitting here." you say, sliding into the empty seat.
Loki immediately sits next to you.
Seeing Sylvie yawn, he says, " Oh, you a bit tired? Feel free to you know, take some rest."
" I can't sleep in a place like this." she answers.
" You can't sleep in a train?" Loki asks.
" I can't sleep around untrustworthy people." she says.
" Oh right, that's us?" Loki whispers.
" Just you." she answers smiling at you.
Scoffing, Loki narrows his eyes at you.
Narrowing your eyes back, you make him laugh.
"But, you feel free to take a nap." she says.
" Nice try."
" I'm not going to waste my time rooting around for the TemPad, when someone taught you fairly decent magic."
" My mother."
You gulp when he mentions Frigga, she reminded you of your own mother, who was shot to death, along with your family.
Sylvie looks around slowly before asking, " What was she like?"
Smiling, Loki says," She was a queen of Asgard, she was good, purely decent."
" Are you sure, she was your mother?"
"Uh, no she's not actually, I was adopted, is that a bit of a spoiler for you? Sorry about that." He says.
"No, I knew I was adopted." she replies.
" What? They told you?"
"Yes. did they not tell you?"
"No!" he says, shocked.
" Hang on a second, tell me about your mother."
" I barely remember her, just blips of a dream at this point." she says, voice low.
" You know, when I was younger, she'd do these bits of magic for me, like turn a flower into a frog or cast fireworks over the water. It all seemed impossible, but she told me that I'd be able to do it too, because I could do anything." He says smiling at the memory.
" I knew Frigga." you say.
Loki turns to look at you, " You-what?"
" I knew Frigga, she was.. she was amazing, accepting and took me in as her own, even though I had been in Asgard for a few days."
" You've been to Asgard?" Loki asks, Sylvie listening.
" Yes, um Mobius didn't tell you the full story. The first time you went to Asgard, Odin made you come back and stay the at the tower a punishment for around a year, I came a few days before you, and the second time you went and were put in the dungeon, I came along. We were actually really good friends." friends my ass.
"Wow, We were friends?" Loki asked.
"Good friends." mmm very good friends
" So what kind of magic did she teach you?" Sylvie asks.
" You wanna see?" Loki says suddenly excited.
He opens his hand, palm up, and fireworks of different colours apper and burst, you remember this, it's what Loki would do to cheer you up.
" Not bad." Sylvie comments.
Closing his hand, the fireworks disappear.
" So, where'd you learn to do the...you knew the thing that you do?"
" I taught myself." Sylvie replies.
" You taught yourself that magic?" you ask
" Yes, I did." she replies.
" What-you just go into their minds and project some sort of illusion?"
" It'd be easier if I just-" she leans forward as if wanting to touch his forehead.
Enchant me, and take the TemPad and leap out of the train, not thank you." he says making you giggle.
" Well then, don't ask! " she asks.
A woman comes up and offers champagne, Loki takes two and gives you one.
" Thank you." you say
" Your welcome." he says leaning in.
" No, thank you." Sylvie says,
"I'll take hers." he says taking the third champagne flute.
" Cheers, to the end of the world." he says and you both drink.
" A pity the old woman chose die, don't you think?"
" She was in love." you say.
" She hated him." he answers.
" Maybe love is hate." Sylvie adds.
Making a face, Loki conjures a paper and a quill, " What was that? Love is hate..." he writes down.
" Oh piss off!" you and Sylvie say at the same time, before looking at each other and chuckling.
Disappearing the paper, he says, " So on the subject of love, is there a lucky beau waiting for you at the end of this crusade?" he asks.
" Yes there is, actually." she replies.
" Oh!" you say.
" Yes, I managed to maintain a long-distance relationship with a postman whilst running across time from one apocalypse to another." she says jokingly
" With charm like that, who could resist you?" Loki says.
" Well, many people are willing in the face of certain doom." she laughs." It was only ever just to keep me going. How about you? You're a prince, must've been would-be-princesses, or perhaps another prince."
Ha ha! Sweetie, darling, if only you knew, I WAS HIS FIANCE!
" A bit of both, I suspect the same as you, but almost always, it was nothing ever...." he says.
" Real." Sylvie finishes.
" Love is mischief, then." she says.
Looking up, he says, " No, love is..something I need to have another drink about."
" You do realize, that we're about to hijack the power source to a civilization's only hope?"
Shit. You didn't realize that.
" I do." you and Loki say at the same time.
" It's not going to be easy. We should rest." she says
" All right, you relax your way, I'll relax mine." he says
" Fair enough." you add, conjuring up your MP3 and putting the buds in your ears.
~~
"Men trærne danser og fossene stanserNår hun synger, hun synger kom hjemMen trærne danser og fossene stanser,When she sings, she sings come home!When she sings, she sings come home!"
You and Sylvie wake up to loud singing, looking to your left, you see Loki singing and dancing, clearly drunk.
" Hey!" Sylvie waves.
Waving back, he continues singing and then shushes everyone.
"I stormsvarte fjell
Jeg vandrer alene
Over isbreer tar jeg meg frem
I eplehagen står møyen den vene
Og synger
Når kommer du hjem?"
You remember this, a song you heard Thor and him sing, and you loved it.
The song picks up and Loki starts clapping and dancing, making you smile.
" To Sylvie everybody!" he cheers.
Finishing his drink, he throws the glass down, shouting, " ANOTHER!".
Just like how Thor would do it, every time he finished a drink he liked.
As soon as he finishes, Sylvie and you, walk over and pull him to the side.
" You're drunk." you say
"No, I'm just full, but bear in mind I'm very full. Now, I need you to try this, it pairs very nicely with the Figgy Port, who's got the Figgy Port? You have to take my word on the Figgy port.-"
" Where's your uniform? We're meant to be laying low."
" Nobody cares, it's the end of the world!" he says
" I think something's happening." you say.
" Yes, uh that planet" he says pointing up, " is about to crash into us."
" Don't be an ass, I saw some people looking at you weirdly." Sylvie says.
" Huh?" he says dropping the dish, " When did you get so paranoid?"
" It must have started when I spent my entire life running from the omniscient fascists you and Y/n work for."
" It's a shame to let that go to waste." Loki says , looking down at the food he dropped.
" Hey, change of subject, I thought of an answer to your question! Love is a dagger." He says his dagger appearing," It's a weapon, to be wielded far away or up close, you can see yourself in it, it's beautiful, until it makes you bleed, but ultimately when you reach for it," he continues, turning the dagger so the handle faced Sylvie, who tries to hold it, but it disappears.
"It isn't real." she finishes.
" Yeah." he says looking at her.
" So love's an imaginary dagger?" you ask
" Doesn't make sense does it?" he enquires.
" Nope, terrible metaphor." Sylvie says.
" Damn I thought I had something." he replies
Suddenly a door opens and a few guards walk in.
" That's him." an old man points at Loki.
" Sir, may I see your tickets?" the guards asks.
" Tickets! Yes of course!" he raises his hand, only for fireworks to blast out of them making you groan.
The guards take hold of Loki and Sylvie, not coming to you because they didn't see you.
Taking a glass bottle, you smash it over the head of the guard holding Sylvie, causing him to faint.
Loki kicks the knee of the guard holding him and pushes him away, elbowing the other in the head.
As everyone runs out, two more guards come in and start fighting.
With a blast of magic, you blast a guard out the window and Loki does the same, green and gold mixing together.
One of the guards start choking Sylvie and hold her against a wall.
Taking a dagger, Loki aims carefully, throws the dagger and ....misses, almost hitting Sylvie,
" What kind of a throw is that?" you said.
Sighing he turns to see another guard trying to fight him, " Oh will you stop it?" he says, kicking him out the window, " Bye!" he waves.
Sylvie manages to get out of the guard's grip and knock him out.
Suddenly two guards grab Loki and throw him out the window.
You and Sylvie look at each other, nod and she jumps out.
The guards them turn to you.
" Boys, you don't have to worry about me." you blast them with a burst of gold before jumping out.
~~
" So, the TemPad's gone?" you asked.
" Yes, all because of this hedonistic jerk-ass clown!" Sylvie shouts, starting to breath faster.
" Woah, Sylvie breathe, go to the side and take a breath, let all of it out."
Nodding she goes to the side, where she then screams so loudly, her magic blasts some rocks nearby. She then goes and sits down on a rock.
You and Loki look at each other before going to sit beside her, one on either side.
" Did the uh, scream make you feel better?" Loki asks.
"It did, you should try it sometime." she says sarcastically.
You can't help but recall at how Loki screamed when Frigga died.
" What now?" you ask
" I don't know, he broke the TemPad." she says
" Well-" Loki begins
" -and that planet is about to crash into us." she continues.
" Well yes but,-"
" But what?" she urges
" But the entire moon is destroyed, right?" he asks
" Yeah, and everyone on it is killed." she says
" Including us." he says.
" Including us." she finishes.
" Wait, what about the ark?" you ask.
" The ark is destroyed before it takes off." she answers
" Never had us on it." you say.
Scoffing, she says, " So what? We hijack the ark and make sure it gets off this moon?"
" Sounds like a good plan." Loki says
"Okay." Sylvie says getting up, leaving you and Loki looking at each other.
"I did not think that would work." you say.
" Well it did." he says getting up and walking after her.
~~
" Okay fine, you want to know how enchantment works." Sylvie says, " I have to make physical contact and grab hold of their mind."
" How?" Loki asks.
" It depends on the mind, most are easy and I can overtake instantly, others the stronger ones, it get's tricky, I'm in control, but they're there too. In order to preserve the connection, I have to create a fantasy from their memories, that young soldier from the TVA, her mind was messed up, everything clouded, I had to pull a memory from hundred's of years prior, before she even fought for them." Sylvie explains
" Wait, what?" you ask, " What'd you just say? Before she joined the TVA?"
" Yeah, she was just a regular person on Earth." Sylvie says.
" But, Mobius said that, everyone who works for the TVA were created by the timekeepers." Loki said.
" That's ridiculous, they're all variants, just like us, I don't know about Y/n though." Sylvie says.
" They don't know that!" you say,
'All ticketed passengers-"
" That's our ride." Sylvie says, all of you running towards the town.
__
" Do we trust each other?" Sylvie asks.
" Yes, and you can." Loki answers.
" Y/n?"
" Yes." you answer.
" Good, cause this is gonna suck." she says
The crowd is then filled with people who are trying to get on board.
" They're gonna let all these people die?" Loki says in horror.
" We're gonna have to get on there and make sure it takes off!" Sylvie says.
" How?" Loki asks.
" We go around!" she says, and you and Loki run towards her.
He holds her back and runs with her, and you feel it again.
NOT THE TIME TO BE FEELING JEALOUS
Taking a deep breath, you teleport to where they are, not wanting to lose them in the crowd.
The moment you reach them, meteorite crashes into a building, making all of you fly backwards.
" Y/n?! Are you alright?" Loki asks.
" I'm fine." you say shortly, " Where's Sylvie?"
" Here." he says pulling her up and running inside a bar.
You run after them, to see a man pulling Sylvie's cloak off her and about to kick her back, when you grab him by his neck and pull him backwards, kneeing his back, making him fall and shout in pain.
Running out of the bar, all of you find a place behind a garbage dump, to take a breather, before running again.
You're almost there, when you see a building about to fall on all of you.
" I've got it!" Loki says, using his magic to make the building go back to where it was.
" Come on! We can still make it!" you say and run with Sylvie, Loki following.
You've just reached, when a meteorite crashes through the ark, destroying it.
All hope lost, you turn back and walk out, Sylvie following.
Shit.
#loki#loki x y/n#marvel#lokilove#lokiseries#lokispoilers#loki x reader#loki angst#marvel x reader#sylvie#sylvie x reader
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A new kind of competition; RA on the Masked singer pt. 2
*Author’s note*
Okay I know I’m kinda doin this out of order but I was posting this part on Wattpad and since it was still in my copying memory I decided to post this part up first but no worries, pt. 1 will be posted up in just a minute. And I wanna tell you all that there will be only TWO MORE chapters left before I finally complete the Rock Angel series. Enjoy this chapter until next time my dears :)
Taglist:
@plethora-of-things
@waddles03
@psychosupernatural
@ixchel-9275
@simonedk
@queensdivas
@queen-paladin
@jd-johndeacon-or-jackdaniels
@geek-and-proud
@starswin
@queendeakyy
@5sos-wdw
@onebigfangirlworld
@isabella-bby
@labessieisallama
@ssa-sadboi
@naturalswifty89
@wormzteef
@bohemiansweede
_________________________________________________________
*Round 5. THE SUPER 8*
Now it was starting to get serious, this was now the Super 8 and this was the first time this season that 2 people were gonna get eliminated. I took a deep breath and gave a silent prayer to God and Freddie above to give me strength.
“And here to give us yet another star-stellar performance and another few hints as to who this mega star could be under the mask. Here’s the Lioness.”
The LIONESS; CLUE PACKAGE
“What very few people don’t know about me is that I didn’t always have that good of a homelife as a child.” I said as I walked through a child’s room. I took hold of my stuffed lion and hugged him tightly as I continued, “The people who raised me were well—let’s just say they weren’t the nicest of people. The remainder of my childhood into adolescence was toxic for me.”
“Oh my god.” Nicole muttered sympathetically.
“Growing up with that much toxicity it really damaged my self-esteem. No matter how hard I tried, it just wasn’t enough for them.”
“Growing up in an abusive home.” Robin noted. “Wonder if she’s an advocate for domestic abuse?”
“But I knew I couldn’t let myself be buried underneath all that hatred. It took a long, long, long, long time. But I forgave them. Because in a way without them, I wouldn’t have found this inner strength within me.”
“You go Lioness.” Cheered Jenny.
“That’s why for this performance, if you or a loved one is dealing with toxic family members or partners. There’s no shame in admitting they’re in the wrong. Because if you continue to listen to their toxic lies, it’ll only lead you down one way. And you’re too good to leave this world just yet.” I set the stuffed lion down and punched the wall which shattered as I let out a proud roar.
I stood there on stage with the mic on hand as my girl Pink’s “Beautiful trauma” came on and I began singing in a ballad like tone first. Slowly walking across the stage till I came upon a beautifully decorated swing (much like the Black Swan used a couple rounds ago).
*Me*
We were on fire
I slashed your tires
It's like we burned so bright we burned out
I made you chase me
I wasn't that friendly
My love, my drug, we burn out
Oh
I got on the swing and it slowly raised up, lifting me all the way high above the audience as I sang the 2nd chorus. As the mantra part of the chorus came up, silk extended from the ends of the swing and I slowly swung back and forth making the silks dance gracefully in the wind. When the bridge came up, I turned on my semi-good rapping skills. As I rapped out the bridge, the swing lowered me down towards the catwalk that stood in front of the judges.
Once my feet touched the ground and I sung the last verse, I walked towards the judges and sung before each of them.
*Me*
The pill I keep taking
The nightmare I'm waking
There's nothing, no nothing, nothing but you
My perfect rock bottom
Beautiful trauma
My love (my love), my love, my drug, oh
My love, my love, my love, my drug, oh
My love, my love, my love, my drug, oh
My love, my love, my love, my drug, oh
My love, my love, my drug.
Mmm tough times they keep coming
All night laughing and knackered
Some days like I'm barely breathing
Then after we were high and the love dope died, it was you
The pill I keep taking
The nightmare I'm waking
There's nothing, no nothing, nothing but you
My perfect rock bottom
My beautiful trauma
My love, my love, my drug, oh
After walking back on stage with Nick standing at my side, he congratulated me on another amazing performance.
“The Lioness is pulling our heartstrings once again.”
“I agree Nick. Especially after hearing that story of her going through domestic abuse that—that’s never an easy thing to go through. But Lioness let me just say you are a strong woman underneath. Because I can tell you’ve overcome that trauma and made a name for yourself.” Nicole told me.
I pounded my heart and raised my hand towards her. She gave me a heart back.
“Now we raided through your fridge and found out just what exactly the Lioness loves to eat.”
“Oh come on Nick this is easy! She eats meat!” Ken exclaimed.
“Sit your butt down Ken!” Nick exclaimed. “Men in Black, bring out the Lioness’s favorite meal.” One of them came pulling out a cooler and sat it right beside Nick and he said. “Alright, let’s see what we’ve got in here.” There was a drumroll before he opened it to reveal a thermos that read JASMINE TEA.
“What’s that say on the thermos?” asked Jenny.
“Jasmine tea.”
“But there’s no food there!” complained Ken.
“To answer your Question Kenneth.” I scolded. That got the rest of the panel as well as Nick laughing. “Any type of food is good for me, but it’s this tea that will give you a clue. As to who I am.”
The audience and Nick ooed. Jenny’s mouth opened widely as she rapidly pounded her stack of notes.
“Jenny it looks like you’ve got something.”
“I do! I do! I do! I do! I do! Okay so in the clue package she talked about her abusive childhood. Rough upbringing, but she didn’t say parents were the ones doing it. And the number code that was given to us awhile back, that 149121. I have been running through my head various codes as to what that could mean. Until the TEA is what gave me the idea.”
“Who is it?!” Ken demanded.
“At least she’s making more sense than you do Ken!” Robin dissed.
“Okay the code actually stands for 11-24-91. And this Rockstar has a tattoo of it on her shoulder with Angel Wings to remember her friend and mentor Freddie Mercury. This is most definitely the ROCK ANGEL (Y/N) KLINE!!!”
“Oh yeah that’s right. She does have a tattoo with that date on it.” Robin agreed with her.
“Nah I’m gonna disagree with you on that Jenny.” Ken said. Oh boy here we go. “Now going off based off the clue package we saw domestic abuse. And on the number code the first few numbers I picked out were 911. This actress started in a movie known as “The Call”. Welcome to the Masked Singer Halle Berry!”
I shook my head and crossed my arms at him.
“Look at her she’s agreeing with me.”
“Ken this is not Halle Berry!” Nick Cannon said. I then waved bye to Nick as I proceeded to walk off the stage but he told me to come back, so I had no choice but to stand there. “See Ken you made the Lioness upset just like you did with Nick Carter last season.”
“Hey like I said before then. This isn’t the first time someone’s walked away from my guesses, and it won’t be the last.”
“I think I might have an idea on who it might be.” Nicole piped in.
“Go head Nicole.”
“Okay so we saw the domestic abuse, growing up in an abusive home. But I also remember from a few weeks back there was a sign that said AIDS. So I’m thinking she’s also an advocate for AIDS/HIV awareness. I’m gonna put my money on Rihanna.”
Oh wow that’s impressive. But sadly she’s wrong. Although I have helped Rihanna with some of her AIDS awareness promotion when the two of us were at a party together for MTV. She told me she wanted to start a campaign for it but had no idea where to begin with it. So I gave her some of my well known contacts and gave her some business advice that I remember learning from Deacy on how to handle everything.
“That’s not a bad guess. But Rihanna’s got a different voice. But whoever you are, you wowed us once again Lioness.” I bowed and blew them a kiss as Nick told me that I could head backstage.
“The judges are slowly but surely getting a grip with my identity. But I’m not ready to go home just yet. And if I somehow make it through, I’ll give them a performance that’ll definitely throw them off my scent.”
Thankfully, I was safe from being unmasked in this double elimination, however Seashell and the Yeti weren’t as lucky.
*Round 6. THE SPICY 6*
It’s down to the wire now. This song might just make me or break me, especially since it’s the hardest song I’ll ever do in my entire singing career. But like Freddie and I always say, “It’s go big or go home darling.” Plus this is another special performance that I’m dedicating to.
“Now then we actually got to sit down and actually talk with this Megastar. Here’s what we managed to find out about the Lioness.”
THE LIONESS CLUE PACKAGE AND INTERVIEW.
This clue package showed me getting my mask taken off but I still had a black face cover hiding my entire face.
“Oh yes that feels so much better.” I praised at feeling the cool air on my face. The Producer then asked me.
“So how has it been being the Lioness so far?”
“A lot of fun. She’s given me the courage to do things I never thought I could do before.” The screens would show some of my previous performances from getting on a wrecking ball to being lifted well over 10ft above an audience.
“What would winning the Masked Singer mean for you?”
“Well I’m not just doing it for myself. But for my pride as well. Especially my dad.”
“You’re dad?” I nodded. The screens would then show me walking around my den with a picture of me and a shadow figure of a male lion.
“Not related by blood but he’s been my father figure for as long as I’ve known him. In fact without his love, I never would’ve found true love on my own. My husband, my kids, even my grandkids. They wouldn’t have existed had he not given me the love that I was denied growing up.” I stroked the picture of the shadow figure of the lion beside me. The screen also showed my real family with my husband lion, 4 adult kids and 2 young grandkid cubs.
I pressed the frame up to my mouth and gave it a kiss, the screen even made a kiss sound effect as little hearts danced around it.
“So Papa Lion, this song is for you. I love you so much and thank you for everything you’ve done for me.” I blew a kiss to the camera as my clue package and interview ended.
The ballad opening for “I don’t wanna miss a thing” by Aerosmith came on and I took a deep breath. This was it, but you’re doing it for Roger here (n/n). Even though he won’t know it, this song is for him. I opened my mouth and soon began singing.
Once the bridge came around and the most difficult part of the song came on, I unleashed every ounce of alto rawness I had within me and just belted out that last yeah which made fireworks rain down from the ceiling and the audience seemed to enjoy it.
*Me*
I could stay awake just to hear you breathing
Watch you smile while you are sleeping
While you're far away and dreaming
I could spend my life in this sweet surrender
I could stay lost in this moment forever
Cause moment spent with you is a moment I treasure
Don't want to close my eyes
I don't want to fall asleep
'Cause I'd miss you, babe
And I don't want to miss a thing
'Cause even when I dream of you
The sweetest dream will never do
I'd still miss you, babe
And I don't want to miss a thing
And I don't want to miss one smile
I don't want to miss one kiss
And just stay here in this moment
For all of the rest of time
Yeah, yeah, yeah!
Don't want to close my eyes
Don't want to fall asleep
'Cause I'd miss you, babe
And I don't want to miss a thing
After finishing the song, fireworks came up behind me as I punched my fist into the air and panted from within my mask.
“Oh my god where did that come from!?” exclaimed Jenny.
“The lioness taking us to the far reaches of outer space with Armageddon!” Nick proclaimed as he came up beside me.
“I wanna say something first Lioness. That was probably your best performance ever.” Robin told me. Oh my god seriously? I knew I had cracked up on that last ‘yeah’ but to hear him say this was my best performance surprised me. “You really laid it out on the line tonight with probably the hardest song but you executed it phenomenally.” He praised.
I bowed my hands in gesture to him telling him I wasn’t worthy.
“Alright now let’s see just who amongst our panel is the Lioness connected to.” The judges all looked up and soon my chute came down towards Ken but Nicole intercepted it from him and she said.
“Oh it’s for Jenny.” She passed it to Ken who passed it to Jenny and she saw the silver charm of a birthday cake.
“A birthday cake.” She told the crowd as she held the charm between her fingers.
“Jenny. I wanna thank your husband for performing at one of my kid’s birthday party.” At that the crowd got all suspicious and Jenny’s face was gaped wide in shock.
“Is Donny doing things behind your back?” Nicole accused Jenny.
“I hope not.” God these innuendos kill me. “Okay so apparently you know my husband Donny. But I-I don’t remember him ever telling me he performed at a kid’s birthday party.”
“What about the entire New Kids on the Block?” asked Robin.
“Possibly. Was it just my husband or the entire band that performed at your kid’s party?”
“You know she can’t answer that!” Nick snapped playfully.
“I’m sorry but I gotta know!”
“Alright panel. What’s this clue package doin for you?”
“Okay well in the clue package there was the picture of her family. I saw four grown kids and 2 grandkids. If she really is a grandma then I still gotta go with Rock Angel. Because her daughter Kelly just recently gave birth to a baby girl last year during the pandemic doing an at home birth.” Nicole said.
“Yeah and in the clue package she spoke about a father figure. And I read somewhere that she considers Roger Taylor from Queen her dad.”
“Okay, okay panel.” Damn they are starting to see it now. But I hope this performance keeps me in the game. “Well, all we know is was that was yet another killer performance. Make some noise for the Lioness. Go ahead and head on backstage.”
The judges really are seeming to close in on me. I really don’t wanna go home at this point but if I do then it is what it is. I still had a lot of fun doing this show and it was an amazing ride.
But at the votes, I was surprised to see that it wasn’t me that was going home. But the Russian Dolls, after doing Elton John’s song “I’m still standing”. I thought they did a hell of a lot better than me but I guess it’s not always the voices that count, but how you execute the performance.
Now it was onto the Semi-finals.
*SEMI-FINALS*
I’ve come too far to end this journey now. The Semi-finals is the last step to ensure that I can secure my spot in the finals. And I have just the song to get me there.
“Week after week she has astounded us with pure, unadulterated vocals. But can she claim her spot for the finals. Let’s dig up some more clues on……the Lioness.”
THE LIONESS; CLUE PACKAGE:
“Being in this competition has taught me a lot about myself. On one side there’s the Lioness I present before the media, when I preform or out in the public. Then there’s the Lioness I am around my pride. A mother, a daughter, a grandmother. And I think that’s really the best job compared to my career.”
“She’s definitely a family woman.” Jenny stated as she took down some notes.
“I wouldn’t be anywhere without my family. They are my rock. Even those that had left me I still see them throughout my life.” I stood before a funhouse mirror maze and saw various shadows surrounding me. “And it’s their voices that give me the courage to continue the fight. So for this performance I’m gonna pull out all the stops and just allow you all to see the real me. Nothing but my raw vocals. I’ve fought to hard and I’m just not ready to go home yet.”
The stage screens were lit up with a rain animation as well as rippling water. I stood there alone with the mic and the spotlight down on me as I sung the song that was once offered to me for the Original movie, but I recommended the Producers to Christina to do the song.
As the song grew more fiercer with the soft drumbeats and my voice became more powerful and intense, I could feel tears filling my eyes once more. I was gonna get to the finals even if it costs me my voice.
*Me*
Look at me
You may think you see
Who I really am
But you'll never know me
Every day
It's as if I play a part
Now I see
If I wear a mask
I can fool the world
But I cannot fool my heart
Who is that girl I see
Staring straight back at me?
Why is my reflection
Someone I don’t know?
There's a heart that must be free to fly
That burns with a need to know the reason why
Why must we all conceal
What we think, and how we feel?
I won't pretend that I'm
Someone else for all time
When will my reflection show
Who I am inside?
When will my reflection show
Who I am inside?
At that last belt which I held longer than I ever held a note before. A 9 full seconds which made the crowd go berserk. I could see some people wiping their tears away as I sung the last couple of notes before finally ending it with a bow of my head.
“Heartfelt! Lioness once again pulling our heartstrings.”
“Okay I just need to say this Nick.” Ken said.
“Go ahead Kenneth.”
“Throughout this entire competition especially when it comes to the Semi-finals, it all comes down to who wants it most. And Lioness—” he wiped his tears away. “You didn’t just show us that you wanted a spot in the finals. You proved you’re worthy of the Rock Gods!”
Aww Dr. Ken. I blew him a kiss and patted my heart and he blew me multiple kisses back.
“For once I agree with Ken.” Robin said. “If people didn’t get teary eyed when you performed Whitney Houston’s hit song, they’re definitely not dry eyed by now.” The 2 women nodded in agreement.
“I agree with the guys. I grew up listening to this song. And to hear your voice do this song, not only did you just sing it. You felt it. And when a singer feels a song, it makes it that much more powerful.” Nicole added. I nodded and replied to her.
“Agreed Nicole. This song……it really spoke out to me when I first heard it. And…..during a really, really rough time in my life. It—got me through so much.” I spoke through my choked tears. Knowing the judges could sense that I was crying underneath the mask, they all awed at me as Nick rubbed my back.
“Lioness even getting emotional up here. Panel, any guesses as to who she might be?”
“All I can say and have been saying is that this is a true, professional performer. And just that belt alone showed us what you’ve got. A true fire within you. Now I know that I’ve said the Rock Angel a couple of rounds but just this week alone hearing the voice, I wanna say this is Christina Aguilera.” Jenny said.
“But wouldn’t it be risky for her to do her own song?” Robin asked.
“She could’ve disguised her tone in order to sing it. But that recognizable control of the belt has to be her.” Jenny reasoned with him.
“I don’t think so Jenny. Cause in the clue package she says she’s a grandmother and Christina ain’t no grandmother yet. I’m still gonna say this is the Rock Angel.” Nicole said.
“Alright well, another heartfelt performance. Give it up one last time for the Lioness.” I waved to the audience and blew kisses at them before exiting the stage.
By the end of the round (and finding out the identity of the infamous Cluedle-Doo being none other than Jenny’s husband Donnie Wahlberg) it was time to see just who was gonna get eliminated and find out who was going into the finals. I stood there with my hands in a prayer as I mouthed out a prayer before Nick finally said the contestant going home.
“The Black Swan!” oh no! She’s actually been my favorite singer in our group. Hell she and I were the only ladies representing Group B and now it was up to me. “So congrats to the Piglet, Chameleon and Lioness, we will see you three in the finals.” I walked up towards Black Swan and gave her a hug and she hugged me back. “Aww look at that, Lioness giving Black Swan a hug. Seems we’ve got a friendship up here.”
I patted the side of her face before bopping her beak and finally left behind Chameleon. Well it was up to me now, could I secure another female winner for the Masked Singer? Or be runner up? Only fate and the superfans will determine that.
*?????? POV*
I was reading the paper as per my morning routine. Nothing new except this whole COVID talk and false expectations on the vaccine delivery. The world really has gone to shit hasn’t it these past few years? That’s when I got a ding on my phone from my daughter Laura. I unlocked it and read her text with a link to a video.
Dad, is this who I think it is?
Video: MASKED SINGER THE LIONESS
I think I might’ve heard of this show. Yeah it started off in America and after it’s popularity, various of other countries began it. Here in the UK we just completed season 2, so this must be the American version. I’ll admit the costume on the thumbnail looked beautiful and the detail was astounding.
I clicked on the video and it read THE MASKED SINGER S.5 SEMI-FINALS LIONESS.
The lights were dimmed and the second she opened her mouth to sing, my heart skipped a beat and I went frozen in my chair. Quick as I could I turned on our smart TV and opened up the YOUTUBE app on the TV and impatiently waited for it to open up.
“My love?” Veronica’s voice spoke as she came down.
“I’m fine dear!” I told her as the app finally uploaded. I went over to the mic icon and pressed down on it and spoke into the remote. “The Lioness Masked singer.”
Soon enough various videos popped up and soon the video that Laura sent me was the first option. I clicked on it and of course bloody ads had to come up. “Oh for god’s sake!” I sat down on my chair as the video finally played and I could hear the rest of the song.
“Reflection” by Christina Aguilera. This version was the recently updated one for the live action remake but just hearing this voice alone I knew only one person who could sing like that.
It had been decades since we last saw one another, shortly after 9-11 to be exact. But even though I’m no longer involved with the music business anymore, I’d always ask Brian or Rog to keep an eye on her and tell me everything about her.
And now seeing her perform as this Lioness creature for such a show, they didn’t know just how lucky they were to be in her presence. As the song got more powerful, I could feel these old bones of mine feeling warm and secure, tears filled my eyes and at that last belt, goosebumps came all over my body and a shiver ran up my spine.
There was a slight tremble in her voice as she ended the song. I knew it was because she was crying underneath that mask but as always she holds out strong and finished the song as beautiful as ever.
The audience roared with applause bringing back some memories of when she went on tour with us. Only her and one other person could get a crowd to sound just like that.
“She’s gotten stronger with her vocals.” My wife’s voice spoke from behind me.
“She was taught by the best. And she now coaches the best.” Ronnie took her place by my side, placing her hand on top of mine.
“You really should give her a ring sometime. I’m sure she’d love to hear from you.” I turned away from her. “You can’t have the boys and me be your messengers forever. I know for a fact she’d be happy to hear your voice again.” I sighed deeply. “At least think about it my love.”
“I will.” I placed my hand on top of hers and gave her a light peck on the cheek.
“Are there any more performances of her on this show? Luke says she’s been all over the media being the Lioness.”
“Well that was the Semi-finals performance, let’s see if someone collab all of her performances together.” I went back to the search box and soon found about a half hours’ worth of (Y/n)’s performances. I clicked play and soon her 1st performance came up.
Seeing her dance reminded me of our times on the dance floor back in the day. She was the only person able to keep up with my crazy dance moves, and that’s why she was always the perfect dance partner. Even Ronnie agreed to that statement.
“That girl never changes. She’s still got it even after all these years.” Ronnie smiled.
“That she does love, that she does.” God she has grown so much since the last time we parted. Her voice much more mature and able to do things she never did before. And some of the stuff that she’s doing on this show is bonkers.
Never did I think I’d see her on a makeshift wrecking ball or be lifted high above the stage on a swing with silk ropes dangling down from it.
I hope she takes the gold and win this little show of hers because she rightfully deserves it.
*FINALE*
It is time. Do or die now. It was me vs. Piglet vs. Chameleon. After performing a beautiful, angelic performance with last season’s winner LeAnn Rimes, the finals were finally ready to start.
After a couple months of going from 14 down to 3, it all came down to this moment right here, to determine who was gonna be this season’s Masked Singer champion. Chameleon went first and then I was going to be next. Chameleon had stuck to his rapping but I could hear more singing out of him this time around and he actually had a pretty good voice.
“Up next. She’s been putting us through a roller coaster of emotions. From hard rock to ballad. Here is the last performance and your last chance to guess at who is beneath, the Lioness.”
FINAL CLUE PACKAGE.
I was walking through a tunnel slowly. One foot in front of the other.
“Being on the Masked Singer has really been a lot of fun. When I first came on here, never did I think I was gonna make it this far.” The screen would show highlights of all my previous performances along with some additional clues.
Like a familiar band logo at the corner and season 3’s champion Night Angel’s wings. And the year 1981.
“This song was written by a very dear friend of mine. A friend that was taken from us far too soon. But it’s through this song that win or lose, I’ll always take with me till the day I die. Because no matter what, we will always make it through the tough times, especially with what we’re going through now with the Pandemic.”
The stage was dark except for a few lights as the familiar tune of Freddie’s last song he ever performed in the studio came on. I was having brief flashbacks of that day in the studio seeing him record this very song but I had to get my mind right as I sung the first verse.
Once the chorus kicked in, fire exploded from behind the stage as my rock and roll band came back on once more. The stage was mine to command one last time as I walked across it for the chorus, giving it my all, just like Freddie did.
By the time the bridge came on, my voice was starting to tremble but I kept my emotions under control till the end of the song. When I got around towards the end of the song, I would hold out a few of the notes till I finally belted out the last note much like Freddie did on the record.
And I swear it was like I could hear him singing alongside me, guiding me to hold the note out longer.
*Me*
Empty spaces, what are we living for?
Abandoned places, I guess we know the score, on and on
Does anybody know what we are looking for?
Another hero, another mindless crime
Behind the curtain, in the pantomime
Hold the line
Does anybody want to take it anymore?
The show must go on
The show must go on, yeah
Inside my heart is breaking
My makeup may be flaking
But my smile, still, stays on
My soul is painted like the wings of butterflies
Fairy tales of yesterday, grow but never die
I can fly, my friends
The show must go on
Yeah, yeah!
The show must go on
Oh yeah! Yeah!
I'll face it with a grin
I'm never giving in
On with the show
I'll top the bill
I'll overkill
I have to find the will to carry on.
On with the show.
Show.
The show must go on.
As the song ended, fireworks fell down from the roof and fire and smoke exploded from the side of the stage as I panted heavily with my arms extended outward. With the last struck of the drums and guitar, I punched my fist into the air.
I sent a quick kiss to the Heavens as the audience went insane. I saw all five judges on their feet applauding me.
“The Rock and roll Lioness showin us that the Show must always go on.” Nick praised.
“I swear each and every performance you do, it just gets better and better! You could just be this season’s winner.” Jenny told me. I clenched my hands and did a victory gesture with them, I could only hope I’d win but it’s not up to me.
“I would agree. She just keeps escalating and escalating her performances and I’m just in awe whether it’s her rocking out or pulling our heartstrings with her raw voice.” Nicole said. Even last year’s winner LeAnne said.
“Hearing this voice alone makes me feel like I’m looking at a champion singer here.” I placed my hand over my heart in thanks.
The judges then proceeded to do some more guesses, Robin and Nicole were saying that I was the Rock Angel while Jenny was saying that I could be Christina Aguilera and of course Dr. Ken (out of the blue) decided that I was Beyonce.
“So tell us Lioness, what would it mean to you to win this competition?” Nick asked me.
“Well Nick, winning would mean that I’ve given my fans a whole new side of me that they’ve never seen before. But even if I don’t win, I still had a blast being here.”
“We were happy to have you here. Give it up one more time for the Lioness everybody!” I waved to the audience and walked backstage.
“This whole experience has been a wild ride. But I had a lot of fun, win or lose.” I told the camera with the Men in Black behind me.
The Piglet then did his song, “Faithfully” by Journey and man did he kill it. He definitely pulled my heartstrings with that performance. So it could be a close race between him and I, or there could be a game changer and Chameleon could take the trophy as the first rapper to sing solely Rap/Hip-hop songs.
“Tonight was a star-worthy performance, but as we know only one can take home the Masked Singer trophy. Now it’s up to our judges and Superfans at home to vote for your favorite now.” I stood between Chameleon and Piglet with my hands together in a prayer. “The votes are in. The contestant with the least amount of votes and in 3rd place is…….”
There was suspense in the air as I felt my foot shake just waiting for Nick to say which one of us got in 3rd place according to the votes of the judges as well as America.
“The Chameleon!” the audience gaped in shock. “That means Piglet and Lioness you both are safe and can head backstage before we call you both back out to crown a winner. Let’s make some noise for the Chameleon everybody!” I walked up to the Chameleon and extended my hand and we shook hands before I walked with Piglet at my tail as we both waited backstage.
About 10 minutes later, we were told to come back onto the stage to finally crown a winner of Season 5 of the Masked Singer. Piglet and I stood on opposite sides of Nick as he held in his hand, the envelope with the Winner’s name.
“Welcome back to the Masked Singer. It is now time to crown our new Season’s champion. Piglet, or Lioness. Which one of you will be taking the golden masked trophy home? The votes are in by the judges and the super fans. And the winner is……..” I could see Piglet’s legs shaking as he has made them every time throughout this entire season, while I was rubbing my hands together nervously.
Nick opened the envelope before proclaiming into his microphone.
“THE PIGLET!!” confetti soon exploded covering both me and Piglet up with strings of blue and silver confetti. Piglet stood there shocked while I clapped for him. He deserved the win, he did a great performance and a great song to close out this season with. He took the golden mask trophy and danced with it as Nick said. “Congrats again Piglet you are this season’s champion. Which means you can stand over there in the championship booth till it’s time to unmask you.”
Before Piglet left, I walked up to him and patted his shoulder before giving him a hug and he hugged me back.
“Aww Lioness is being all cuddly with our contestants here.” Piglet and I shook hands with each other for a good competition while I went back to my spot to be unmasked once and for all. “Lioness you’ve wowed us week after week and as sad as we are to see you go, I think I speak for everybody here, we cannot wait to see who you are!”
The judges all agreed as well as the audience.
“But first, let’s bring out the first Impression guesses. Men in Black! Bring ‘em out!” I could already see the judges pleading for them to not to. “Yeah it’s been like—months since you guys wrote these down.”
“Can we please not do this Nick?” pleaded Jenny.
“Too late. And the first guess is from…..Nicole.”
“Oh god.”
“You guessed……Christina Aguilera. Not a bad guess.”
“Yeah that really isn’t a bad guess. However I’m not gonna stick with that. Based off the clue package of LGBTQ, and growing up in a domestic abusive home, plus the recent clue package with the symbol of the band Queen’s logo and the Rock n Roll hall of fame right beside that. I’m gonna go with the Rock Angel (Y/n) Kline.”
“Okay. Okay. Let’s see who else we’ve got here……Robin!”
“Oh no.”
“You guessed……Pink.”
“Oh that’s not too bad.” He shrugged.
“You stickin with it?”
“I am not gonna stick with that. Like Nicole I did see the Queen logo in this week’s clue package and just going off by the voice alone. I re-listened to some old records and this is clearly the Rock Angel herself.”
“Alright 2 votes for the Rock Angel. Mrs. Jenny McCarthy.” Jenny sunk down in her chair as Nick grabbed her envelope and opened it up. “Your first impression of the Lioness was……also Pink.”
“Oh thank god I thought I had pulled a Ken guess.” She wiped her hand across her forehead as Ken exclaimed.
“Hey!”
“Ken sit down! Are you sticking with that guess.”
“No. The number code we were give, the 149121. Which I’ve coded as her tattoo for the date of Nov. 24th, 1991, the date when Freddie Mercury sadly passed away from complications from AIDS. And seeing how she talks about her family, her kids, her papa Lion. I’m going for (Y/n) Kline the Rock Angel!”
“Alright, alright, alright. Dr. Ken……” oh this outta be interesting to see who he thought I was at the first performance. He opened Ken’s envelope and laughed.
“What? What did he write!?”
“Janet Jackson!” oh my god! That even got me weak in my knees as I laughed.
“With those dance moves I thought it could be her! No one could’ve done that dance better than she could! DON’T LAUGH AT ME!!”
“Are you sticking with that guess?”
“No because the clue package doesn’t support it. Okay so we’ve had LGBTQ, domestic abuse. She’s a family woman with 4 kids and apparently 2 grandkids. Although I think the grandkids is a lie. She went through some tough times throughout her personal life. This is none other than Lady Gaga! Welcome to the Masked Singer!”
“What?!” Nicole exclaimed. “But she’s not a mom!”
“Well then she could be lying about the kids then too all I know is that the rest of my brilliant theories lead to Lady gaga!” I shook my head and placed my hands over my mask shaking my head in defeat. “See! She’s even admitting I’m right!”
“No she’s not she’s just done with how ridiculous your guess is.” Nick said.
“Well I don’t care. This is Lady Gaga and I’ll take it to my grave!”
“Alright. Ms. LeAnne. As our guest panelist you have the last say in who you think this might be.”
“First of all let me just say you are a super star whoever you are under there. If we had competed against each other last year, I would’ve been quaking in my boots.” We all laughed. “This is truly a rock legend under here with the few rare female rockstars that came with the time. And I actually got the privilege to see her perform with the band Queen one year for a birthday party. And there’s only one person that I’ve seen on stage that can sing with as much fire as you Lioness. And that is the Rock Angel herself.”
“Okay Panel. Everyone except for Ken Jong has agreed on their final guesses. Lioness! It is time for the moment we’ve all been waiting for. We wanna know—whose behind the mask. It is time for you to Take it off!”
“Take it off! Take it off! Take it off! Take it off!” everyone soon started chanting. I held my arms out in a shrug before shrugging my shoulders and finally reaching for my mask and tried to lift it off. Nick was helping me as the audience and the judges kept chanting. I could tell I was keeping them in suspense, just wait until they see it’s really me.
Finally the mask came off.
I shook my head and pulled my hair out of my face and the crowd went nuts, the judges all jumped up and cheered.
“THE ANGEL OF ROCK HERSELF! ROCK AND ROLL HALL OF FAMER! LADIES AND GENTLEMEN THE ONE AND ONLY (Y/N) KLINE!! THE ROCK ANGEL!!!”
“OH MY GOD!!” I heard some of the judges exclaim.
“Look how beautiful she is!” Nicole praised me. I waved to the audience and gave them a “Freddie Mercury” like bow with a twirl of my hand.
“Hello LA!” I said.
“Angel! Angel! Angel! Angel!” I heard the crowd chanting out.
“Wow it is such an honor and a privilege to be standing here next to a true Rockstar.”
“It’s an honor to be here Nick. Thank you all for having me here.” I told him.
“Tell us why did you choose to be in this show?”
“I know this answer gets told a lot but for me personally I speak from the hard truth that we should all strive to do different things cause—you never know which days are gonna be your last.” I hinted my potential death scare almost 20 years ago. The judges all nodded in understandment.
“And I’m told that you also wanted to say something about this performance in particular?”
“Yes. The song I had done wasn’t originally my choice.” The audience as well as the judges all looked at me in surprise. “Originally the Producers wanted me to do a Katy Perry song, but……this coming November will mark the 30th anniversary of the day my boys and I lost our beloved Freddie. And…….being there the day he recorded this song in only one take. I felt in my soul that I had to do this for him. To give him a grand performance because due to this covid Queen and I aren’t touring till we feel it’s safe to start touring again, like many artists are. So I really wanted to honor Freddie with a performance that I hope did him proud.”
“Well you did just that.” Jenny told me.
“Thank you. And I’m glad you managed to catch that Jenny, you truly are the Masked Singer detective.” She pointed out to me and that’s when last season’s winner LeAnne said.
“I grew up listening, to both you and Queen. And—I can say for a fact that you definitely did Freddie Mercury proud. And it’s good that you and the remaining members of Queen continue his legacy. Sure it’s not the same as it was before but you don’t refer to him just in the past. But in the present.”
“Thank you LeAnne dear.” I thanked her as I blew her a quick kiss.
“I just gotta say (Y/n). You absolutely crushed the choreography with Janet’s song for your first performance as well as your wrecking ball routine. I think those were my favorite performances of yours, will we expect any of that once you start your solo tours back up?” Nicole asked me. I laughed along with the audience.
“You never know.”
“Well it has truly been an honor to have you on our show. Now then ladies and gentlemen, to sing for us one last time give it up. For the artist formerly known as the Lioness, the Rock Angel (Y/n) Kline!” the audience applauded and I sung “The Show must go on” one final time for the audience. Putting my heart and soul into the lyrics before finally belting out that last note in a different key before punching my fist into the air and sending a kiss towards the heavens for Freddie.
After the show all ended and a few days passed by, I did a livestream on my Instagram as well as my Youtube page telling my fans that I was indeed the Lioness and just talking about my experience on the show. Of course Bri, Rog and Adam blew up my phone with calls/texts/DM’s (mostly Adam. Bri and Rog still don’t quite get DM’s) telling me why I lied and did that show in the first place.
I gave them my straight answer that I wanted to have a bit of fun and do some type of performance and show the audience a whole new side of me when it came to performing.
I was just about to go to bed after bidding Georgie goodnight (he had to work a late nightshift tonight) when my phone rang. I picked it up to see it was an unknown number from London. Curiously, I pressed the answer button and said.
“Hello?”
‘Sister dear.’ My heart stopped and I sat down on the bed.
“Brother mine?” I choked out.
‘Hey love. It’s uhh—been awhile, hadn’t it?’
“Try 20 years yah rotter.” I teased as we both softly chuckled. “What—how…..”
‘Laura sent me a video of you on the Masked Singer. The American one. You were beautiful up there.’ I placed my hand over my heart. ‘Although I do wish you had won. That—boy band person couldn’t hold a candle to you.’
“Oi now, Nick Lachey did just as well as I did.” I softly lectured him.
‘Well I still feel like you should’ve won.’ I smiled solemnly.
“Was it just because of the Masked Singer that you wanted to call me?”
‘That and…..’ he trailed off. I lay against my bed and softly spoke to him.
“Deacy?”
‘I…….’ he sighed heavily. ‘I know I haven’t been the best at keeping contact.’
“John.” For the first time since……probably back when I was an intern for Miami all the way back in the autumn of 1980, I called him by his first name (unless I referred to him him by his full name did I call him John, most of the time it was Deacy). “I get it. Plus my schedule has been quite hectic. And you—you’ve been busy yourself. After all Queen would’ve fallen decades ago without your financial brain.” We both shared another laugh.
From then one we talked pretty much the entire night up until it was almost 6am my time before we finally said our goodbyes. It was sweet to hear from him once again after so long. Now whether or not I’ll ever hear from him again, I don’t know.
But at least I know my Brother Mine is still keeping his eye out for me, in one way or another.
#queen#queen band#queen fanfic#queen fanfiction#queen x reader#freddie mercury imagines#freddie mercury#freddie mercury x reader#roger taylor#roger taylor imagine#roger taylor imagines#roger taylor x reader#freddie mercury imagine#brian may#brian may imagine#brian may imagines#brian may x reader#john deacon#john deacon imagine#john deacon imagines#john deacon x reader#bohemian rhapsody#bohemian rhapsody fanfic#bohemian rhapsody imagines#bohemian rhapsody fanfiction#bohemian rhapsody movie#masked singer
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Rakshasa Girlfriend: Zarita 2
Part 1
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Female monster x female reader (OC)
The Lioness of Maetrine Part 2
“My little Queen,” Zarita’s voice was deadly soothing, brushing your hair out of your face with a free paw. “Oh, how much I have missed you.”
“Zarita.” Your voice was steadily cool, ignoring how your heart jumped a step ahead of you when you felt the blade press into your throat. “Would I need to question how you escaped?”
“Your guards are slow and old, I’m afraid. Whilst they were distracted by the onslaught of my group, they were too busy up top, not below in the cells, watching,” she gave a low chuckle, melodically raspy. “It was easy to slip past.”
“Yet despite these odds, you have not killed me yet,” you murmured. “Or have I mistaken this all?”
“My friends have raised their defences, the siege on your little capital has already begun.” She pulled you taut to her chest. “They have only asked of one thing.”
You snorted, “For my head?”
“No, though they may find that suitable to end this skirmish,” she chuckled. “They ask for you and only you, my little Queen, alive and unharmed.” There was a feeling of pulling you close to her chest, your back pressed up, keeping you from lashing if the threats got worse. “I will not let them get to you.”
You squirmed in her grip, wary of how the sword pressed into your throat further, “I beg to differ.”
“You think I am not an honest one? I am hurt, Your Grace,” Zarita purred low against your ear. “My countrymen aren’t so loyal, you see. They can change their minds like the flip of a coin. So vile and dishonest. They will tell you they keep your safety whilst backstabbing you in a bed you think will protect you.”
The blade at my throat tells me otherwise. “You’re telling me you are attempting to drive me away from your people just so you can save me? In a highly fortified castle, my guards are out defending for these walls to remain high, but you think you can whisk me away without a soul noticing?”
“I am more than quick, little Queen. I can always knock you out, easy to travel,” you whimpered at the suggestion before she added. “With the right remedy, of course.”
“What will you do with me?” You questioned. “Since you wish to keep me away from both our people?”
There was a pause, the heavy toll of the bells that rung mournfully for your capital, the sound of cannons and swords clashing, the fear that your countrymen were dying trying to protect you, not knowing you were easy to reach. “I can be of some help, perhaps if you will allow me,” Zarita compromised. “Perhaps even a personal knight.”
The laugh that came from your parted lips was unexpected and startled both of you, promptly continuing with what you had thought, regardless of what your situation was. “That is like having the jewel thief be head of protecting the crown jewels. Do you think your proposition will be allowed for your attempt of assassinating me? Or so… how will your proposal go for the people of my council?”
“Rats,” Zarita hissed smoothly. “Men are rats and born to fester, to plague your lands. Like your old father, he was blind to be guided by fools and he will lead his own daughter to be driven to chaos by foolish men too.”
Your father had registered the best of men from around Ereon to help lead you to the best of wisdom. All ranging with many skills, the only issue you found was that they had been around your father’s age or even older, putting ahead what were old beliefs and acts that would please the people and lands regardless if you thought otherwise. New things needed to cut the old out, you always thought… but something like this seemed preposterous.
You smiled automatically, choosing the right words as the grip of the blade loosened further, “What are you trying to say, Zarita?”
The Rakshasa purred right into your ear, sending the shudders of what you couldn’t help but feel were of delight when she replied, “Who wants to listen to an old fool of a man when you can listen to another woman?”
She wasn’t wrong with this, but why did you so badly want to agree? A clawed hand came to wipe back a fallen strand of your hair, gentle and soothing. “You have a good way with words, Zarita,” you began. “But what else can you provide?”
“Someone who knows these lands best, from those who speak wrong of you and allying spies for your power,” she whispered lowly. “Or I can be a shoulder for you to cry on, a friend… someone to keep your bed warm when you’re lonely and cold.”
Your cheeks flushed, but she continued. “I can be a great help for many things, My Queen, so long as you have me.”
“If I say yes, what would you do with me as soon as you release me?”
“Perhaps we can celebrate,” her laughter rumbled through your chest. “Wine and cheese, or even chat whilst the men continue their fighting.”
“We can dine when this siege is over,” you corrected. “For now, I know of a place you can lead me to, one far from the eyes of both our men.”
Zarita purred excitedly, kneading her head against the back of your neck, “I’m listening.”
-
The twists and turns of the endless dark hallways were how you remembered them to be: when you had been ten and wandered through below whilst trying not to be caught by guards on their nightly duties. It was an easy escape when you had one built into the foundations of your room some couple of centuries ago.
The matted fur of Zarita caught little of her shadow or movements as she moved in front of you, leading the way with the small torch provided, indeed, it was certain she moved along the shadows with her dark attire and pelt blending seamlessly.
“You say this will lead us to the sanctum?” Her voice echoed through the narrow walls, the soft timbre to lure you out of your running thoughts. “The sanctum has been the safest part of the Keep, holding the fortifications and secret tunnels to lead to the shores.” You announced coolly, wracking your nerves against your tense fists. “I’ve seen it myself.”
The Rakshasa chuffed, “You know of war?”
“I’ve known of sieges, but not ones that lasted so long into the night,” you replied. “With sieges like these, it took days before I could finally rest, not from hearing the bells ringing for our doom. But my aunt’s army has been quick to come, thanks to the forces surrounding the Stormholme Keep.”
“Ah, the Moors,” Zarita hummed. “They are just as preoccupied in banishing my kind away. A couple of thousand years ago, when the first iron giants fell after helping to build the keep, the distant relative, an iron lord, decided in his best interest to control the population of Rakshasas.”
You felt a build of uncomfortableness build in your stomach, unsettling your nerves further, “Lady Ryllae never taught me of this history.”
“No-one really does, it’s kept secret,” Zarita hissed through her pointed teeth. “They like to keep the history of some out from humans so it looks like your race are the only ones suffering.”
The end of the hallway grew lighter and lighter with little light being cast through the crack of the wall. You moved in front of her, pushing past the bookshelf as silence fell between the two of you. “Zarita… I never knew-”
“That is fine, little Queen,” she responded dejectedly, but the whiteness of her teeth shone through. “You were not even needed to be told. Your old father made sure to keep it out of your history lessons, and to make sure no child born would know.”
It boiled your blood all the same from hearing of these tails of the past. The tenderness of your hand came to rest on her shoulder, feeling through the iron of her doublet made you question how she retrieved it. “I apologise on behalf of my ancestors who came before me. No more, when this is over, people will know of what happened, of the blood that was spilt and how no soul has been at peace since.”
“You needn’t be so kind, little Queen.” Zarita made the move to come in closer to you, the rumbling in her throat brought further shivers through you. So up close you could see that her eyes were not only a lovely chestnut hue but were flecked with gold.
The secret door was opened with a loud groan as the two of you stepped through into the large room. Glass candles surrounded the room with its high frames and columns that reached the sky, fake windows that always seemed to be open constantly were framed with hues of blues and greens, giving the ceiling a beautiful contrast to what would’ve been happening outside.
In the middle of the large room, sat the statue of the Matron Mother statue, a hooded figure knelt praying silently, almost in a state of oblivion when they turned to face the two of you. Quick as a fox, the figure had stood, slashing open the bronze of their sword as a threat to not you, the person behind, but you caught a glance of the silver in their hair.
You stepped forth cautiously, “Aunt Ryllae?”
“You’re not harmed?” The Lady of the Moors was quick to run to you, enveloping you in her arms and kissing your brow. “Gods be merciful, Hell surrounds us, sweet Caecia.”
“Will we ever see the end of this turmoil? I will not allow the Maetrine Keep to fall.” You admitted with dignity still strong in your heart. “Yes, my little cub. It will, however,” Lady Ryllae turned her gaze to the Rakshasa standing close to your side. “We must discuss… these matters. Your assassin is free.”
“She is,” you sighed. “But, although questioning how she escaped can be a matter of discussion with my guards, my concern lies with how we will flee in this predicament.” The Rakshasa had a deadly gaze sent on your aunt, glaring with her ears bent back and flat against her head, eyes narrowed into slits. “I have been told of my utmost safety from her.”
“Oh, I can see for certain,” Lady Ryllae didn’t budge. “You would make her a knight then? Personal to you?” You exhaled deeply, turning to glance at her from your side. From her, Zarita was calm and steady as a river, growing low and soft in the back of her throat, her side brushing against yours. You felt protected already somehow. “Indeed. That was the deal we signed. My safety for her loyalty to be sworn as my knight.”
“Very well,” your aunt seemed wary as she pointed her gaze to Zarita. “Though know this, turncoat, if you dare lay a hand on your Queen and I hear word, I will hunt you to the ends of Ereon.
“Of course, Lady of the Moors.” Zarita coolly responded.
The Protector of the Stormholme Keep turned her gaze back to you, the tired smile replacing her features, worn from battle and skirmishes. My Queen, perhaps our place, for now, is here. You should rest, you must be worn.”
“As for you, Aunt Ryllae. Try and rest up as much as you can… All of us.”
The silver-haired lady nodded and bowed, not looking back on Zarita and she took her place back in front of the statue, continuing to pray as if she had been disturbed. “She prays a lot, doesn’t she?” Zarita noted not so softly in your ear.
“She prays because she worries about our fate.” You replied, going over to sit by the bookshelves, sitting down with Zarita not far to copy you. “Do you not pray?”
“I stopped a long time ago,” she was absent in space, drawling. “I suppose I lost many things that I forgot how to pray.”
“That is fair,” you slowly began gracelessly, turning to try and get comfortable, Zarita taking notice. “You are not comfortable, are you, Little Queen?” It took a small laugh to bubble over from your dried lips, glancing back to her. “You took notice?”
The Rakshasa put down her weapon to the side of her, opening her arms with a smoothness to her words, “Come here, I can warm you.” You didn’t object even when remembering too late that she had been rotting in an iron cell for who knew how long, crawling into her arms, resting your head into the crook of her shoulder and neck, surprised by how warm she had been with little on. Her fur was matted and short, but was fuzzy and soft against the flesh of your cheek, making your squirm momentarily. Zarita chuckled, not daring to move as she cradled you like a babe, a soft purr coming from her chest that reverberated through her into you. “Better?”
“Much, thank you.” You mumbled against her, trying to keep your eyes shut, ignoring how your heart stammered in your chest, hoping you couldn’t hear. Hers was steady and strong, pulling you to listen to it and only it, whilst the sounds of war continued outside.
When she believed you were sleeping from the lack of movement, Zarita glanced back to see whether any eyes were on her, before kneading her head into yours, nuzzling the side of your head and happy to feel you nuzzle back.
“Sleep well, my little Queen.”
#rakshasa#rakshasa oc#rakshasa writing#WLW#wlw monster#wlw exophilia#wlw story#exophilia#rakshasa x reader#royalty fic#sapphic story#sapphic exophilia#sapphic#monster girlfriend#monster assassin#fantasy fic#female rakshasa#reader oc#female monster#maetrine keep#rakshasa girlfriend
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Are you referring to Mackie stating he’s trying to portray men sensitive side and calling out people who associate two men hanging out as being gay? People are calling him homophobic....how?! People have to understand they are not the only people who have something needing to be represented. I’m laughing at people, not you who called Mackie homophobic because they mad Sam and buck aren’t a couple. Mackie has play gay characters to the fullest extent so why would someone who’s “homophobic” do that? Sorry to rant on your blog love, I was in his hashtag and saw hate and then of course there’s racism among the mix.
Okay, so I'm gonna give you the benefit of the doubt here and assume you just want an actual explanation for why I personally (and I'm sure a lot of other people too) am upset by the interview.
Here's the Twitter thread with links to the article in question for reference:
https://twitter.com/Variety/status/1405601621732577280?s=19
I'm gonna start by saying I don't think Anthony Mackie is Homophobic. I haven't called him that, and I won't, because I don't believe that he is. I do think he should have just left his answer at "I don't get involved in the Fandom stuff", and not tried to explain any further than that, because he really dug himself a hole and kept digging throughout that whole speech.
I also don't really think he's an ally. I think he wanted to come off as an ally, and either he's just really confused, or has no idea/does not care what the lgbt community wants in terms of representation.
(And before anyone calls me a racist, I am absolutely still mad at Chris Pratt and Chris Evans and Jenson Ackles for saying things like this and worse. I wasn't really the type to make posts or participate in conversations in Fandom back when they each said their shit, but I remember it, and I'm bringing it up now because they absolutely deserve to be remembered. They built up this foundation of Actors discussing slash fiction/fanart and being shitty to their queer audience about it, and having no repercussions for it. They shouldn't get a pass, especially real homophobes like Chris Pratt.)
(Anthony Mackie wouldn't think it's fine/normal to say this stuff if the white men before him had been held accountable for their statements, and that's all I'm gonna say as far as race goes.)
The problem I have with what Mackie said is that he's very dismissive of the problem that is lacking Gay Representation. He uses an excuse that homophobes have long been using against Gay Representation, saying that "It used to be guys can be friends, we can hang out, and it was cool...You can't do that anymore, because something as pure and beautiful as homosexuality has been exploited by people who are trying to rationalize themselves,” (Anthony Mackie via Variety Magazine 2021).
The problem with this is that is frames the desire for gay representation as encroaching on straight men's right to have platonic friendships. Which, it doesn't. Slash fiction/fanart exists because of a lack of gay representation in media. Fan creations lean far more towards queer/non-heteronormative-conforming relationships because we don't see ourselves represented in the media we consume. So, at a lack for representation in media, we create our own representation.
So if the gay representation doesn't exist in mainstream media (or is only baited *cough*destiel*cough*) how can it possibly be encroaching on heteronormative relationships?
The answer is it's not. But homophobes want to use that excuse to call queer creators "gross" and "oppressive" when we see the potential for gay rep in (yet another) 'just close bros' male friendship. They don't want the gays 'contaminating' their cishet masculinity.
And again, I'm not calling Anthony Mackie a homophobe. I think he means well, especially given the rest of his interview. I also think he's parroting back homophobic rhetoric that he's heard from actual homophobes, not realizing how demeaning and harmful it can be. It's hard to tell sometimes-- homophobes have gotten really good at phrasing their rhetoric in a way that doesn't seem so blatantly bad as it is. Everyone makes mistakes, and I'm more than willing to give Mackie the benefit of the doubt here. I don't think he's homophobic, just... misguided.
That doesn't mean he shouldn't be called out on it. (And I think we all enjoy poking fun at the dumb shit people say, it sure helps take the edge off the crushing disappointment I feel every time I see this rhetoric pops up.)
So, yeah. That's my two cents on this.
TL;DR: I'm mad about the Variety Interview, but I'm willing to forgive Mackie on this if he realizes why what he said was a bad take, and corrects himself/apologizes. I'm certainly a whole lot more willing to forgive Mackie than I am Crisp Ratt (known homophobe and all around terrible person) or even Jensen Ackles (dude literally treated destiel fans like freaks for years).
#homophobia#anthony mackie variety interview#anthony mackie#chris pratt#chris evans#jensen ackles#sambucky#discourse#ask#anonymous#sorry this is kinda late#idk when you sent it but it's 2am here so I assume this was a while ago#all these asks over one meme i made damn
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Asian drama female lead passivity
I feel like a lot of aspects of female lead (FL) passivity is discussed (the fish kiss being the most famous example), but I wanted to systematically analyze each trope under the theory of female passivity and its feminist implications.
This topic has been stuck in my mind ever since I read a blog years ago (literally like six years ago so I’m sorry I have no idea where it is, I can’t link it) talking about how intimacy in Asian dramas is always portrayed as something women relent to giving up half-heartedly, and men one sidedly pursue. Women are chaste, men are lustful, and women are yielding to men, that is the essential message.
This dynamic plays out in Western media as well--the movie Don Jon is a super interesting analysis comparing how women are indoctrinated by romcoms, to how men are indoctrinated by porn. So women attach grand romantic gestures and romantic commitment to their self worth, because that’s what the girl gets in her happy ending, while men attach it to sexual prowess/having women do kinky sexual favors.
This dynamic is super harmful because it works to suppress female sexuality, as well as male emotionality. People are always surprised when a woman would rather just want sex (or a career) over a romantic commitment. And men are applauded for having the bare minimum of emotional awareness because it’s so rare.
I think a form of Asian drama female lead (FL) passivity that is most talked about is the infamous “fish kiss.” See exhibit A:
The guy initiates the kiss on the usually unsuspecting girl, as if the girl ever going in for the kiss herself would be too sexually aggressive. And as if even enjoying the kiss would be too much, they have her just stand there eyes wide open. It’s awkward, and even slightly funny to watch, but our critique often ends here. But I think the fish kiss is a symptom of a much deeper problem.
You will notice that female lead passivity is present in all physical interactions between the romantic interests.
The pull in hug:
Which sometimes the FL looks uncomfortable to frightened in:
I even found a meme, so I know I’m not the only who thinks this is weird:
(meme/photo credit: https://goliath1357.tumblr.com/post/27115253892/kdramareasons-awkward-one-sided-hugs-k-drama)
What I don’t like about this trope is first of all, it makes female consent seem less romantic. It romanticizes this idea of male pursuit/female passivity, the man will protect her, the man will pursue her (basically like an object), the man will do all the work in making the relationship progress, etc., and it romanticizes this dynamic to women--this is easy to romanticize for us, because to the most of us that aren’t being constantly pursued by two hot men, this pursuit dynamic seems like a dream boat. Often the kdrama female lead (due to the Initial Misunderstanding trope) will even dislike and push away the male lead--and yet he still pursues her, how romantic! -_- Except in real life, the guy aggressively pursuing you and ignoring you disinterest is not romantic.
And the issue is on both sides, because it teaches women to just stand there, not express consent, and not express sexual/intimacy enthusiasm when we’re feeling it (that would be ~unladylike~). And on the other side, it teaches men to do all the pursuing and to assume that a girl standing frozen, wide eyed, and often looking scared as you kiss her, is consent. Sometimes the guy even interprets a clear “no” as consent. (Honestly I’m not even sure if these Asian drama writers are thinking along the lines of “xyz is consent,”...like I’m not sure how often they even think of the concept of consent tbh.)
But anyways, passivity. is not. consent!!!! That’s why we have the slogan “Yes mean yes,” meaning both parties must have enthusiastic, clear consent, for respectful intimacy. Asian dramas discourage women from expressing an enthusiastic “yes,” and it teaches men not to expect this “yes,” so they can steamroll past passivity and even rejection.
And I know some people will be boohooing me on this. “But sudden kisses and hugs are so romantic!” people will say. But what is “romantic,” like many things, is a social construct. We think things are romantic because they’ve always been presented to us as romantic, with swelling music in the background and the implicit understanding that anything is ok because they are Soulmates(TM) that end up happy together. We construct our idea of what is romantic largely out of media.
But that is not real life, and carrying those messages over to real life (as we inevitably all do), is dangerous. I just moved to Japan so this especially hits close to home for me: I dress conservatively by American standards, but I couldn’t bring a quarter of my clothes when I moved because I worried men on trains would interpret them as revealing, and therefore I would be “asking for it.” I, and I’m sure many women will feel me on this, think about and fear sexual assault very often. And when we don’t enshrine active consent, we perpetuate rapist culture.
Since “romantic” is anything our society constructs it to be, let’s romanticize enthusiastic consent! (like this NCT song!!) I think sudden kisses can be cute when you’ve established boundaries that it’s is ok, but it scares me that men and women are watching this and thinking suddenly kissing a person you haven’t discussed boundaries/intimacy with at all is cute. It’s all fun and games when it’s the hot male lead kissing the girl you know he’s going to end up with, but it’s not cute when it’s real life men thinking they’re entitled to women’s bodies.
Other examples of female passivity:
I stopped watching Moonlight Drawn over the Clouds at precisely this scene:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=X6I0WXeD-dc&ab_channel=KBSWORLDTV
because it was so painful to watch her sitting there like a fish as the guys got these cool fight scenes. Like girllll literally do anything, throw a rock, something! First dramas routinely disable the female characters by making the male characters the able fighters, but even if you’re not an able fighter you can do more than just sit there like a lame duck -_- Especially the parts of these scenes where someone is standing over the girl with the sword and the writers don’t give the girl the presence of mind to simply run away, but they give the guy the presence of mind to somersault into the room, jump over ten monkey bars, slash the antagonist, and catch the girl bridal style on his way down. I guess the damsel in distress trope is as old as the book, but just the complete passivity so many female characters show in fight scenes as they need to be saved is really annoying and disempowering.
I think the worst part is their faces, they’re all like omg! this is so sad!
well girl you could have done literally ANYTHING other than sit there as he took ten bullets for you lmao. Women don’t exist to stand by and be saved!!! This is a historical drama but the modern drama version is when the guy is getting beat up by bullies or whatever and the girl just stands by and does nothing but look upset.
Another good trope that is under this passivity theme is the double wrist grab, where we not only have ONE male lead (ML) manhandling the FL, but TWO MLs. Ahh yes the only thing better than forcibly ignoring consent and the FL’s wishes is TWO men doing it.
I heard this recently even happened in True Beauty...which...that drama...truly I thought Kdramas were progressing until I saw how much people were hyping up that mess of misogyny (not to mention how boringly predictable it was).
I can’t quite express this next trope in a screenshot, but something I also see a lot of is the ML professing his love to the FL and she sort of just stands there like O_O. Like she’s just sort of this object that sits there being admired? It’s just such an unnatural way to react to someone professing their love for you, and these scenes drag on for many minutes of just the ML’s dialogue so the female actress, having no lines, has no choice but to sit there O_O. Like give her lines! Give her reactions! Give her anything other than being wide eyed!!!!
And these physical interactions represent deeper emotional passivity in the female lead.
I’ve noticed it’s almost always the trend of the male lead falls later, but falls harder, and ultimately he puts more energy into making the relationship progress. Again, this buys into female fantasy, but it is an unhealthy fantasy that is grounded, I think, in our insecurities, and our fear of putting ourselves out there (so we would rather have someone pursue us than put ourselves out there and meet someone halfway).
This emotional passivity is why, weirdly enough, sometimes I will really like the drama because the girl is very stubbornly, openly, and aggressively pursuing the guy. A case of this is Itazura na Kiss, or Mischievous Kiss (there’s a Jdrama, Kdrama, and anime--I only watched the anime). Now the guy is downright meannnnn in Mischievous Kiss, this was not a healthy relationship at all, but there was something refreshing about the girl. Sure her aggression was in pursuing a man, but at least it was aggression, and I’d always only seen any hint of female sexuality/actively pursuing as something very stigmatized.
I think a sister trope to the passivity trope is the innocence trope. The guy will literally take the initiative to profess his undying love to the FL and she’ll be like “what?? omg stop teasing you’re joking ahahha.” Why do FLs need to be so oblivious/innocent? I think it caters to the way media is seen through a male gaze but that’s a trope to deconstruct another time.
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The Platinum Rules
summary : Being a true fuckboy he truly is, Taehyung only has three rules when dealing with his one night stands. One, never ever wine and dine someone before sleeping with them. Two, never ever stay the night after one night stands. Last one, is never, never ever meet a girl’s parents under any, any circumstance ever. These are his Platinum Rule, the one never break even once and it conveniently keeps him off the hook for anything. But what magic are you playing to have the fuckboy break all his rules for you in a span of only 24 hours?
{fake relationship! au, fuckboy! au, fratboy! au}
pairing : kim taehyung x reader
word counter : 24.556
A.N = Read (Not) Just Friends here! Please be mindful this is in Lia’s perspective in (Not) Just Friends!
================================
“You did not just… You know what? Fuck you, Jeon Jungkook!”
Jungkook snickers, looking at the panicked face of his best friend, Taehyung when he sees he is not the only one in the table. Taehyung should have guessed, though. Since when did Jungkook ever ask for a dinner together other than McDonald and its peers? He thought Jungkook was being nice, wine and dining him for somehow ignoring their best friendship ever since getting himself a new girlfriend. Not that he is unhappy for Jungkook and he’d rather chop off his finger than to admit this, but he misses partying night in and out with him—he is just that whipped for his new girlfriend and decides to take himself off that routinity.
“I only say she is cute once. Once! And I don’t see any reason why you, your girlfriend and Y/N should be having dinner in this fancy ass place! This is a lowkey double date, do you know that?” Taehyung hisses in agitation.
“It doesn’t have to be! No one saying this is a double date beside you.” Jungkook amusedly chuckles, raising both his palm in defeat. “We are just going to have a nice dinner together, bro. As friends.”
Taehyung throws him an annoyed look. “You really going to fucking act like I don’t know you?! You are setting me up with this girl, I knew it! Jungkook, I told you, I am not interested in dating! I know it’s good for you, but I am not chaining myself to that time bomb, thanks.”
“Yeah, yeah whatever. But we are taking too much time in the toilet for two men and people there gonna think we are fucking. Let’s go.” Jungkook mindlessly put an arm on Taehyung’s shoulder, walking back to the desk in which his girlfriend and you are chatting lively. Taehyung takes a deep breath, then launches an elbow kick square to Jungkook’s rib that throws him to coughing fit to get his arms off him.
“I swear when we are done, I’ll punch you in your fucking annoying handsome face.”
Jungkook launches a flirty wink along with a chuckle. “I don’t mind you hitting on me, but my girlfriend is just right here.”
“Hey, you guys. What is taking so long in there?” Jungkook’s girlfriend cheerfully asks and both of the men shake their heads with an awkward smile. God, Taehyung really wants to snap to his own head right now, how he wishes to be anywhere but here. There is actually a party in the female frat he is greatly acquainted with. Should have just gone there to relieve some tense instead.
“They’re probably fucking.” You instinctively murmur, unknowingly too loud and audible to anywhere in the radius of a meter while calmly sipping on the glass of red wine. Your best friend slash roommate gasps, slapping your shoulder—somehow embarrassed.
“Y/N!”
Taehyung glances at the girl pouting in front of him, somehow finding her ironic jokes entertaining. Well, even though he is greatly opposed to the idea of a double date, but hanging out with this girl is probably not the worst idea. Probably beats hanging out alone with Jungkook while he is playing fucking Overwatch.
Well, it goes back to a month ago when Jungkook finally got his shit together and confessed—ugh, the mutual pining seriously sickens him. Even if Taehyung is glad for Jungkook, he is uncertain how he can even settle down after living his greatest life. Man, Jungkook was on the top of the world—good athletic career, good body, beautiful girls—but now that he is settling down, and it kinda makes him uncool in a way. Probably because now he has a girlfriend, he is not really active in all the jock and frat activities like he used to. Girls are already done chasing him, not with that love-sick puppy eyes he has whenever his girlfriend is near—or even far and even with only a month, Taehyung quite had enough. In conclusion, relationships sucks and it changes people, and Taehyung doesn’t want to let go of the great life he is having right now just for settling for one girl. Why only one when he can have more, right?
Then when both Jungkook and Taehyung were hanging out, one night in their shared room, he mistakenly mentioned that you were cute. And he did not lie—he still doesn’t—but it didn’t mean anything! He mentioned dogs are cute probably even a thousand times, but he doesn’t see Jungkook getting him a dog. What’s the difference with saying you were cute? Jungkook is a literal dumbass for even thinking Taehyung can settle for a relationship.
The night goes on, and Taehyung finds himself counting the awkward jokes that have been thrown by Jungkook and his girlfriend about this being a double date and what a great match he is with you. He is literally keeping a tab of everything—waiting for all to be finished so he can finally get the long-awaited revenge he has been counting seconds for. But not that he will say it with his own tongue, he does think that you are cool—as a person. If these pair of idiot gooses are not here, he somehow thinks both of you might actually hit it off—as a good friend, of course.
“God, this is such a great dinner, right?” Your roommate yells, looking mildly buzzed with alcohol. You side-eye her and sigh, resting your glass of wine back. One thing about your best friend is she favors red wine a little too much, and sipping on the beverage like there is no tomorrow. Jungkook holds her hand across the table, eyes filled with adoration.
“Are you okay, pumpkin? You look drunk.” Jungkook coos with a warm smile, and she smiles back, a wide smile painted on her lips. Taehyung literally feels the urge to puke just listening to the affection lacing in his tone. God, love really changes Jungkook.
“You know what? I love you, Jungkookie!” She suddenly stands up, crashes into Jungkook’s arm, gives him a haste kiss on the lips, right before walking drunkenly outside. Her surprised boyfriend swiftly chases her away, before signaling Taehyung to pay for their dinner. Taehyung is baffled on the side. Jungkook that bastard seriously invited him for this horrendous dinner, yet still asking him to pay? Fucker! But as he notices your eyes prodding his way, he quickly puts on a composed face, giving you a thin smile.
“I think that concludes this very, very confusing but yet pleasant dinner.” Taehyung smiles, while asking for the bill. “I am sorry if you are forced into this dinner. This new couple think they got the right to play immortal on us, right?” He cynically jokes and laughs at it, but your face is too straight to respond so his chuckle is slowing to a complete stop.
“I’m actually the one asking for this double date.” You whisper, an unexplainable emotion rushing on your tone. “I’m the one saying I want her to set us up so we can be together. I like you. I want to be with you, Taehyung. Forever. You—you want this too, right?”
The fear on Taehyung’s chest is instantly risen, seeing the crazy, psychopathic look in your eyes. Well he really thought you are not the type to stick up only after a dinner—but he cannot deny his instinct does disappoint him way too much than he could even be proud of. The instant urge to leave the spot and escape is too much with his feet are already out the table until you break it with a loud, hearty chuckle. “God! Messing with fuckboys is soooo fun! I can’t believe you fall for that!”
Taehyung scrunch his eyebrow, detecting the unexpected jubilant look on your face. He is bewildered.
Seeing that Taehyung still is not getting your very, very obvious joke, you sigh. Dumbass fuckboy. His cocky ass big head does not surprise you even a little. “God, I was kidding! Sorry to break it to you—it may be too hard to understand, but not every girl will be willing to take turns sucking your dick, dude. Sorry, life be like that.” You sarcastically note, setting your napkin on the table and Taehyung feels somehow relaxed and offended at the same time. Weird emotions, really.
“I don’t even know why I am here.” You continue, displaying a friendly smile now, reaching out for your glass of wine. “Should have known. I fell for this fake dinner thing too many times now, gonna reject every dinner invitation from now on.”
Taehyung grins, finally able to breathe easily. Well, he deals with way too many obsessive and stuck up one night stands now that it even terrifies him to be around them, so that’s that. You are too cool to be like one of them, he just knew it.
“Gotta make an exception for me, though.” Taehyung cheekily musters, suddenly surging a confidence on his own skin. You are already dominating the conversation too long now, he just had to take over. “How else can I get to know you better, huh?”
Being a true fuckboy he really is, Taehyung only has three rules when dealing with one night stands. One, never ever wine and dine someone before sleeping with them, as dinner is a very, very intimate thing that involves a lot of real talks—instead of dirty talks in which he is way, way better on. Two, never ever stay the night after one night stands, as sunshine is just a sign that he has spent more than necessary time with her and can only result in any bothersome attachment after. Last one, and probably the rule that has no exception whatsoever, is never, never ever meet a girl’s relatives under any, any circumstance ever. The three rules are all based on his experience learning it the hard way, and ever since, he never broke even a rule and it greatly keeps him off the hook for anything.
But albeit important, he will let himself break his first rule for you. Only because you are hot—and probably is included in the one percent population of girls who doesn’t need to be reminded that he is not looking for anything but a short fun. A lot of girls tend to forget that easily, getting to attached to what a gentleman he is before and during sex, and always become such a bother after. But he’ll trust this one that you’re not that kind of girl. Even with a bruise on his pride, since he is slightly doubtful if you’ll even agree to his proposal for hooking up tonight. At least, teasing you is already a great enough entertainment for him.
“Boy, I don’t want to know who that can actually work with, but I’m not that difficult to get to bed with.” You chuckle at his pathetic attempt to work his way inside your skirt. Taehyung raises his eyebrow, not believing his own hearing. You are glancing down now—probably to the phone on your lap and your face instantly contorts, and a sigh of tiredness escapes your lips. “I’m way too tired now anyway, better just go back home, fuck and get it over with.”
“W-what? You seriously want to fuck, willingly with me just like that?”
You give his shoulder a pity pat, a thin smirk on your lips. “God, Taehyung, do you actually need to work that hard to get laid all these time?”
“B-but, you just said every girl—”
“I changed my mind.” You sigh, getting tired of the constant queries, along with the message you just received. Jackasses, seriously. “Taehyung, I’m tired. Let's go pay and head back to my apartment. I think the cringy couple will not be there, but fuck them, let them hear us fucking so loud they need to follow as well.”
Taehyung cannot even believe the crude answer coming out from such beautiful, innocent lips, yet the intense anticipation of what’s about to come his way is too unbearable he could not wait even a second to get you under him and win his dominance back. At the cashier, Taehyung quickly slaps a card on the table with his foot swiftly tapping on the floor in impatience. You can’t help but to find that strangely adorable, yet disgusting at the same time. You are seriously hooking up with the worst fuckboy in your university. Never thought you'd stoop this low, but that’s life, right? Let’s see if he can put his money where his mouth is.
Seeing that Taehyung does not show any sign of asking your part of the bill, you are quick to remind him. “Taehyung, I will pay you back, okay? I’ll transfer it.”
“What? There’s no need for that, honey.” Taehyung whispers smoothly, putting in his pin with a wink. “It’s just a small thing I can do for a beautiful lady such as you.’
You snort at his cringy remark, greatly bothered by his every word. “Taehyung, seriously, stop. Any effort you have to do just to get laid will make everything worse.” Taehyung smiles to himself, somehow expecting the snarky remarks even before he threw the stupid comment. You are surely one of a kind. “And I’ll pay you back. This is not a date, and I’m not a prostitute, you don’t have to pay for me.”
The unexpected aggression and anger coming from you quite blow him off his edge, as you thomp furiously to exit the restaurant. Are you seriously saying that you are bothered by him willing to pay for dinner? Taehyung is all down for feminism, but he was literally just being nice—and beside, Jungkook is literally going to stab him with a fork if he ever lets you pay, so that’s that.
But one realization comes to his mind—he is not going to deal with you long enough to think about your weird trait again. Tonight, all he needs to do is suck everything—and he means, everything. And when he leaves before midnight, then all will be just fine.
*
It’s weird.
Taehyung slowly flutters open his eyes, oddly feeling ten times better than he has been recently after waking up. He doesn’t even know why—probably the wonderful scent of vanilla and citrus that is vivid on his smell. But wait—what the fuck? That’s probably the one of the furthest things he will ever wake up to! He should be waking up annoyed by strong scent of sweat and cheap male perfume, not this.
Fuck, fuck! That ceiling—the light blue ceiling with countless translucent fake stars, that’s not his ceiling either. He was supposed to be looking at a cringy, old poster of Metallica on his dorm room ceiling. And this excessively comfortable, dark blue fur blanket hugging his waist, that’s most absolutely not his. And god, who the damn is he holding right now?!
“What the fuck! Why are you still here?!”
Well that is literally the words he had on his mind just a second ago, yet surprisingly it is not him who is yelling. It is a girl he had a nice dinner with yesterday—with red wine and everything. The girl who was too prideful to let him pay, and the girl who strangely manages to throw him off his game with their continuous three rounds of dirty, dirty sex and God, he swears he never cum harder before in his life—and it says a lot because he does lots of sex. Like a lot. Yup, it’s you.
God, he shouldn’t be here, he should just head home right after sex. He broke his second rule, right after breaking his first one last night, even worsewith the same girl—you. What the fuck is wrong with himself?!
“You said you would leave after a ten minutes nap!” You hiss, clearly disliking the fact that you have to wake up seeing his annoyingly handsome face—with bed hair mussed deliciously and all. Is it weird that you are feeling terribly ugly right now with him still looking like a handsome sex god on your bed? And still feeling his arm around your wait, you groan in disgust. “And why the fuck are you holding me?! Seriously, you are the worst one night stand ever.”
Taehyung quickly detaches himself off you like you are a disease, yet no offense taken since you are glad he is finally a distance away. “I was fucking tired after fucking three rounds yesterday, I think I fell asleep longer than I thought.” You roll your eyes since all you hear is bullshit. “And for your information, I always sleep hugging my bolster. And since you are fucking weird and do not have a bolster, I guess I just settle for less.” He reasons, but you respond with a snort.
“And the worst one night stand ever—are you kidding me? Funny I don’t recall you saying that last night when I generously let you cum in my tongue.” Taehyung continues with a smug, and you can’t help but to feel heated at the memory of last night, Taehyung finally used his mouth for a better cause for once—since you despise it when he is talking. Yet there is no use denying that Taehyung is indeed a master with his tongue, but of course you’d rather cut your arm rather than admitting it to his cocky ass face.
“Pssh—like you weren’t begging to have a taste.” You sinisterly defend yourself and Taehyung chuckles, vaguely shrugging as an answer. You involuntarily stare at his smiling face, and you have to admit he does look his best with it. God, are you seriously thinking such domestic thoughts with this fuckboy right now? The alcohol must still have an effect on you.
“Why are you staring at me? Finally realize that you should have just jumped on my bone again instead of doing this strange, pillow talk?” Taehyung impishly grins so you land a strong punch on his bare chest with all your might. He lets out a definite cough, definitely not expecting the strength coming out from such a small frame like yours. “Damn woman, what exactly are you?!”
“A girl that can definitely kick your naked ass out of her apartment if you don’t leave in five.” You solemnly warn. Taehyung let out a light laugh, shuffling out of your blanket with no shame whatsoever with his straight out of womb nakedness to grab his clothes. And you cannot bear to notice how apparent his morning wood is—and it brings pleasant yet unnecessary memories of last night to your mind. You seriously need to get a hold of yourself cause if not, you might have to play with yourself after and you don’t really want to get off with the thought of him for the fourth time now. “For the love of God, Taehyung! Put some clothes on!”
Taehyung is unimpressed, pointing at his clothes like it’s the most obvious thing. “What are you—yes, I’m doing it right now, you idiot. And I’m using your bathroom first, I don’t want to look like a fucking idiot, walking around the campus with a morning hard on.” He pouts, but then a smirk formed on his lips. “Or you want to lend a hand with this?”
You shut him with a pillow thrown to his annoying, smug face. “The fuck no. And what, no you can’t!” You answer in panic, pointing to your door. “We only have a shared bathroom here. Let me check if my roommate is out.”
Taehyung sighs. “Y/N, you literally told me last night to fuck as loud as we can and let them hear so they can follow.” Listening to him quoting you from last night, you internally wince. You literally don’t have any trace of ever saying that in your vague memory. God, you must had been drunker than you thought.
“That’s just the drunk and horny talking.” You hiss, trying to steal a peek through the door. There is no sign of your roommate, so everything should be good to go. Or at least you think so. “The cocky ass new couple will be all over our asses, Tae. They will think something is up, try setting us up like yesterday. Ugh, no thanks. You have to leave without anyone knowing.”
“Hate to say you are kinda correct in that one, buddy.” Taehyung sighs. He literally said he was going to punch Jungkook for arranging the dinner, yet now he was the one taking advantage of it. He would not let Jungkook win on that one—he still desperately needs that one punch chance or that fuckers will never let it slip ever, even until the day he is well rested and buried. “Okay, is she out now? Jungkook is not there, right?”
Like a cue of bad luck, your roommate and Jungkook walk out of her room, hand in hand with each other right to sit on the sofa. Jungkook kisses the tip of her head, caressing the side of her face while scrolling through netflix on the tv. “I can’t believe we are watching Taken for the hundred times already just so you can fulfill your Liam Neeson odd kink.” Jungkook impassively huffs.
“God, Liam Neeson kink? Your roommate is fucking weird.” Taehyung lowly whispers, all of a sudden already squatting beside you. You jump a few steps back due to the shock of seeing his face up close, clutching your chest dramatically.
“Damn, can you stop shocking me?!”
Taehyung greasily winks. “Baby, I don’t think anything should shock you after seeing my dick in all its glory.”
You fold your chest, slightly amused but majorly annoyed by his unending arrogance. “Ugh, don’t baby me. And well, I am still shocked probably because I don’t think your dick is outstanding whatsoever.”
Taehyung ignores your stubborn, obviously a lie remark, and continues peeking from the door crack. “God, a film. Probably take them one or two hours. But I think Jungkook has practice in… one and a half hours, so maybe I can go by then.”
Your frown turns deeper, dreading the imagination of spending another hour with him, locked in your 3x5 meters room. Are you even capable of holding yourself from strangling off his cocky, annoying head? This could probably be the greatest challenge you will ever have to face.
“What should we do for an hour and a half….” Taehyung whispers to himself, sends you a suggestive look while wiggling his eyebrows. You quickly send him your middle finger as an answer, already rejecting whatever idea he has since you are well aware there is no possibility you will like it.
“I am not suggesting to fuck, sorry if you were expecting that.” Taehyung lopsidedly smirks, and you fold your arm in agitation. God, you wish everything can be over so you can go to your parents home and call it a week. And it’s saying a lot since you never look forward to going back home every weekend. “I won’t refuse, but I just want to play now. Do you play animal crossing?”
“Seriously?! You play too?!” You are surprised to say the least, voice unforeseen raising in delight. You really do not expect a fuckboy like Taehyung would play a game like animal crossing—you thought he would hold on to that toxic masculinity and play whatever popular ‘boy’ games right now. It is strangely a nice surprise. “Can I visit your island? Let’s trade too! I have bamboo shoot lamp, log dining table—”
Taehyung chuckles, seeing how passionate you are, scrambling to get your nintendo from your night desk and turning it on while blabbering non stop about your items. He strangely finds it endearing, how drastic you can be when you are not trying to kick him out with a torch and pitchfork and it only takes a freaking animal crossing game. You are tremendously unpredictable, and he finds himself liking the refreshing change of pace. He walks back to your bed, sitting beside you while you animatedly chatter about your island.
Is it too wistful to wish that the current strange yet greatly amusing thing going for the both of you does not have to end now?
*
After being firsthand kicked out from your apartment when Jungkook went to his practice, Taehyung walks to the basement to get to his car in a strange mood. It’s Saturday, yet he doesn’t know what to do or where to go. There is another frat party that will be held tonight, yet he finds himself less than excited to go. He loves parties, but he is not delusional to think that he will love it forever—he is already in a phase of finding parties are monotonous and boring most times. Yet going home is not really a convenient option since there is no use—it’s empty anyway. Frankly, he doesn’t even know what home to him really is. Is it his dorm? Is it the party? Yet they probably give him a better definition of home rather than his own real house.
So Taehyung decides to drive his car back to his apartment on the other side of the town, far from his parents house. The upside of being a child of divorce is probably being shoved money to his mouth like it's the only thing that matters—yet he doesn’t mind. Or maybe he does, but there is no use in complaining, right? He is 21 now, he is over that complaining, depressed phase of his life. Maybe take a couple of depressants tonight, cry a little to sleep and he should be fine. Or maybe he’ll schedule a session with his psychiatrist—he has been missing lots of sessions and it may or may not has taken a toll on him already.
After arriving his car inside the apartment building, Taehyung sighes on his seat, a great exhaustion painted on his face—and he literally is. Just a few hours ago he was able to momentarily forget every issue in his life, but after he is alone, the anguish of loneliness hits him like a ton of brick. He is alone. He is nobody. Nobody likes him, even his own parents. He is just an emotionless shithead who is not right in the head. Who is he to think that he is worthy? Nothing in his life he achieves with his own hands, and life is just a constant train of problems and disappointment. It will never go the other way, since happiness is not for him.
Taehyung rests his head on the wheels, shutting his eyes tight to handle the tears coercing to rain out. No! He doesn’t want to cry now! Even then the ugly tears won’t stop coming out, and he tries to find purchase by hitting his head on the wheel. He enjoys the pain. The pain he is feeling right now—it never felt so right before.
Right until someone knocks on his window, simultaneously stopping his current emotional breakdown. He looks up—probably looking like an ugly, crying mess, expecting the security with an disapproving look on his face for the nth time. But instead he finds someone that instantly melts his whole being—somehow successfully distracting him from the intrusive thoughts he was having.
“Taehyung, are you okay? Hey come out, you have been there for awhile now.”
Taehyung quickly sweeps his tears with his sleeve, fixing the hairs on his forehead to conceal the bruise that might be formed from hitting it multiple times to the wheel and look down. God, this is embarrassing! He never thought he would meet her again in this situation—it seems like life is playing games on him and he despises it for her to always find him in such a ridiculous situation.
“Mina, hi.” Taehyung stutters nervously, somehow avoiding his neighbor prodding eyes that always sends him to nervous bundles. “I—I don’t know you’re home.”
“What are you saying, I’m always home.” Mina chuckles, pointing at the paper bag filled with groceries. “Just came back from grocery shopping. I am cooking pasta today. You wanna join?”
Taehyung looks at her sincere eyes, silently thankful that she is not going to mention his previous breakdown—not that she ever does. Whenever she witnesses his breakdown; crying in his car, hearing screams when he feels suffocated, things being thrown away, and even that one time he brought his one night stands back to his apartment and the girl runs out crying due to his unpleasant way of shooing her away; Mina never judges. She would come knocking at his door, asking him to join her watching the TV, or eating the less than edible food she cooks herself. It’s always a great time with her, and Taehyung could not lie that he feels greatly comfortable with her presence.
“I would love to. Kinda unsure if I won’t get a digestion issue after eating it, though—but i’ll take my chances.” Taehyung smirk cheekily. The girl scowls, shoves him away with her free hand, and strides inside the apartment lobby without waiting for him. Taehyung warmly smiles, quickly walks to her side to walk to their neighboring apartment. “Here, let me take that for you.” Taehyung instinctively grabs the load off her arm. Mina smiles, pressing the lift button to their apartment level.
“It’s been such a long time since your last visit, Tae.” She is staring intently on the man beside her. It was too much for Taehyung, causing his heart pounding faster than normal. He bit his lips, looking anywhere else but her.
“I missed you.” She whispers.
That is it. The word he longs and needed to hear the most—ironically not only from her, but from everyone. And now Mina is saying it to her, Taehyung feels like he is about to cry from the overwhelming emotion. Oh, how he wishes he could say the reason behind his absence. But no, he has to be strong, at least this once. So he forces a thin smile, and tries to change the topic to anything else.
After five minutes full of small talks and keeping up with each other’s lives, Taehyung and Mina finally arrive in front of her apartment door. She shuffles on her purse. “Wait, I’m grabbing my keys.”
“No shit sherlock.”
Right when she swings open the door, someone is already waiting inside, waiting on the couch while watching Pororo. “Mama!” She squeals in delight, running to Mina’s grasp with her two ponytails waving through the air, then clutching onto her for dear life. “And Taehyung oppa is here too!” She shouts in delight, changing her target now to Taehyung for a hug. Mina instinctively retrieves the paper bag from him so he scoops the little girl and holds her close.
“Oppa, I miss you so much! I haven’t seen you since forever!” The five years old pouts, lightly hitting his chest with her cute, little fist. Taehyung quickly gives her a kiss on the cheek—oh, how he adores the little girl in his arms now.
“Sorry, oppa is busy. But it’s okay since he is here now!” He smiles, trying to lighten up her mood. She is the whole reason that Taehyung is here in the first place—the little gremlin he loves so much, probably even more than himself. She is Yuna, Mina’s daughter.
Mina is two years older than Taehyung, and she was married three years ago to a man with a daughter. The man is away most of the time for his job offshore, and is back every three to six months. When Taehyung bought the apartment they were already living there—the first neighbor that welcomes him warmly regardless of how unwelcoming he was, as he hated socializing with new people. But they never exchange anything beside a short, civil smile until one day.
Everything changed on the day Taehyung was about to head for class, he found an unannounced guest standing by his door—a four-years-old Yuna, unknowingly went out while her stepmother was sleeping. Yuna was lost, crying out loud because she couldn't get back inside. Taehyung was well aware of the identity of the toddler, so he instantly knocked on his neighbor's door while holding Yuna’s petite hand on his side.
After finding the fact that her daughter was put in danger by her own carelessness, Mina cried, feeling totally remorseful for forgetting to lock the door. She mentioned she was so exhausted, finishing all night for her upcoming book and having to clean Yuna and the house after. Later that night she invited Taehyung for a thank you dinner, which did not really go well since she couldn’t cook for shit—but still insisting to. Yet even with an upset stomach, Taehyung never felt as comfortable as when he was having dinner with her. At that time, he was severely lonely and needed a friend. That’s how it began—he would always knock on her door, and she always welcomed him with open arms. He got addicted to hanging around Mina and her beautiful daughter.
Yet it was a very foolish thing to even let himself believe hanging around nearly every single day around a married woman is harmless—because he was and still is an idiot and somehow, against all odds and his own cynical thoughts, he caught feelings. Bad. But how could he not? Mina was probably the kindest, the most beautiful soul he has ever met. She always knows the right thing to say at the right time, and being around her always makes him feel hundred times better. She sees the real him, instead of the dumb, rich and messed up fuckboy everyone sees him nearly everywhere. Like seeing her and talking to her—he could finally breathe after holding it for the longest time.
But it was not long until every illusion Taehyung had fell through. Mina’s husband came back home from his three months offshore work and that's exactly when he faced a cold truth that nothing was ever going to work out anymore. Mina is married to a very kind man as well, and Taehyung would never go against his sanity and ruin it—especially when he knew who would be the most affected by it. It’s Yuna, the most wonderful child who has frankly gone through a lot after her birth mother passed away a few years back from cancer. Taehyung is a child of divorce for god sake, he knew how painful it was for the child like the back of his hand. He would rather die than to be the one doing it to her. That’s the sole reason he has been avoiding Mina and Yuna at all cost. All because he wants to protect the two girls he adores so much.
“Oppa, I am still waiting to play the toy with you! Come play with me!” Yuna cries, promptly running inside her room to grab a few of her new toys. Taehyung easily complies, walking to the living room and detecting a bunch of very Yuna-typical toys—zombies. She always loved playing plants vs zombies on her device, so he bought her zombie and plants toys on her birthday two months ago, but never got to play them before with her. Yet when the large toy on her little grasp is close, Taehyung detects that it is still securely sealed.
“Yuna, you never played this before? Don’t you like it?” Taehyung is saddened at the fact that the girl never played with the toy he gave. But Yuna fervently shakes her head, comfortably sits on Taehyung’s lap like old times and leans on his chest.
“I like it! But I want to play it with oppa first!” Yuna smiles widely, showing her missing front teeth and Taehyung is unable to hold his smile. The girl is literally the cutest girl ever to exist and he is willingly smitten into her cute charms. Taehyung pecks her cheek in fondness before helping her in opening the box of toys.
After a great forty minutes passed, Yuna is already exhausted, sleeping on Taehyung’s chest since she spends too much of her energy screaming, laughing while playing with her plants vs zombie toys and figurines. He leans on the sofa, caressing the top of the five year old head sleeping on his arms, gazing at her serene sleeping face. She looked very content and happy, and seeing her like this is therapeutic for him.
“Taehyung, let me get her to her room. Let’s eat, the pasta is ready.” Mina whispers, and he nods, letting the woman take her child to her bedroom. Taehyung coughs, a strange feeling suddenly runs through his mind at how domestic all of these feels. God, he told himself a million times that this should not happen—he was trying his best to evade getting too attached with them to the point that he next to never comes back to his own apartment anymore—yet one accidental visit and he is now back at one. This is ridiculous!
Finding no other solution than trying to survive another thirty minutes without making a fool, or even derangedly hurting himself in the process, Taehyung takes a seat on the dining table with a decent looking pasta served on it. The hurried steps of Mina are heard and Taehyung quickly clears his throat. This is it, Taehyung. Just one lunch, and that’s all. You can finally go back to your apartment.
“Let’s eat! I actually tried cooking this exact recipe before, and I know it tastes good. I’ve been practicing, you know.” Mina grimaces, remembering the time Taehyung vomited when her so-called scallops were badly cooked and his stomach was greatly upset, causing Taehyung to skip his classes for a full week. Seeing how nervous she is unknowingly brings a smile on his lips. “At least you won’t throw up this time, trust me.”
“I kinda doubt it, but let’s go.” Taehyung teases, while Mina scoops a portion to his plate. He nods gratefully, with the nerves gradually increasing. This annoying voice on his head keeps repeating the thing he is most afraid of, but he pushes it away and musters a thin smile. No. He’ll finish the lunch, run back to his apartment, and never come back for another four months. That’s better.
One habit whenever Taehyung is nervous is he always runs a finger through his hair. The said habit being done is pushing away the strands of hair on his forehead, exposing a palpable bruise which faintly bleeds due to the great force of knocking his forehead on the wheel during his latest breakdown in the car. Seeing how concerning the injury has looked with a smear of blood is evident on his forehead, Mina jumps on her seat in worry. “God—Tae! Your forehead, it bleeds!”
Yup, it is. Taehyung coherently snorts when touching the forehead with his palm, seeing a hint of blood on it. He is instantly aware of the pain. What a fucking idiot he is—god, when will he stop making a fool of himself?
“Wait, I’ll grab some meds, okay?”
Mina walks to one of the cabins, then returns with a box of first-aid kits to his side. She takes a seat beside him, pointing it so she can comfortably access the bleeding bruise on Taehyung’s forehead. One thing that she might be clueless about is how nervous Taehyung is, heart rate abnormally fast just by seeing her face in such close proximity—so close he can even spot the little mole on the side of her nose bridge—while the familiar, refreshing scent of lilac is radiating off her. She is tending his bruise carefully, her left fingers secured on his left jaw to keep him in place, and Taehyung's head literally spins. How can someone be this beautiful?
At one point, everything is too much to handle for Taehyung. He likes Mina, this beautiful, married woman that somehow gets him better than everyone, but he can never be with her. He could not let himself fall even deeper and do something he will most absolutely regret after. “Mina, stop. It’s—it’s enough.” He breathes lowly, abruptly losing his ability to speak, especially when her lips are just a breath away for him to touch. But he knows they were overstepping the boundary and desperately needs to stop. It’s not right.
Then at once, the confusion on Mina’s face turns into remorse and the next thing both of them know that their lips are touching, both eyes closed with Mina’s hands secured on each side of his shoulders. He is now kissing Mina.
Taehyung cannot lie that he did imagine about kissing her before. Yet at that time, the only thing he feels is disgust, ten times worse than he already feels for himself. Not even a second felt right—a flash of his broken family went through his mind. He just stopped to another level of low; he is kissing a married woman.
“Mina, stop! We cannot do this.” Taehyung gruffly pushes her away, quickly standing up with a heavy urge to vomit coming out from his stomach. It’s disgusting, he is disgusting. Not that he is miserable with himself, he just became a cause of someone else’s misery. He is really the bad guy in every story.
“I-i’m sorry. I’m sorry, Taehyung. I-i know it was wrong, I don’t know what has gotten into me—”
Taehyung is irritated beyond words, his face reddening while he furiously scrubs the remnants of the kiss on his lips with no holding back whatsoever. He is disgusted with himself, and frankly he is disgusted with Mina. He never should have come here. There’s literally nothing good will ever come out on meeting the married woman he somehow liked—and a realization is dawned on him. He just sinned Yuna. The innocent, five-years-old girl that deserves happiness more than anyone else in this whole world. It feels like he already hit rock bottom, like he just wanted to throw himself off a cliff.
“It is wrong!” Taehyung aggressively hisses, quickly walking to the living room to grab his belongings, yet finding the toys he just played with Yuna results in him feeling uncomfortably nauseous. This is the worst thing that could ever happen to him.“This, this never happened. It’s better for us to not see each other again.” He runs to the door with great fury, before a whimper of his name is heard. Mina is calling him.
Yet he is unable to walk away without seeing her one last time. Hearing her voice calling his name. Listening to what she is about to say.
“Taehyung, I’m sorry.”
*
After running away from the encounter with Mina, he called his super that he is selling the apartment right away. He has to close everything—every little chance of seeing Mina, and sadly even Yuna. Taehyung desperately needs some space, and so does her. It’s better not to see each other again.
Hence, now he has nowhere to go. Going back to his dorm is not an option—he is currently at the lowest point of his life and seeing anyone from college is never a convenient option. So that night, Taehyung decides to spend the night in his car, parked on the side of Han River. It’s a place for him whenever he is sad. A place that always reminds him that he is still too scared to die. A place to remind him that somehow, he still yearns his life to go the other way. A better one.
And at one point, after bawling his eyes out, he is desperate to feel the wind slapping his face and knock some sense into him. He exits the car, taking his time to walk to the side of the river, hands secured inside his pocket. He closes his eyes, taking in the cold wind and feels it rushing through his face. The cold was definitely a tid bit much—probably to the point he couldn’t feel his face, but he somehow prefers it.
But he is most absolutely unable to stand another minute clenching at the rail of the river, so he walks to the nearest bench, placed under a tree. It is more convenient—the wind is hundred times kinder and he can finally feel his face. And all of a sudden, his phone rings. He half-heartedly steals a glance, finding an unknown number. He easily rejects the call, before it rings once again. And again, and again until he annoyedly picks up just to shout his agitation to whoever is on the other side of the call.
“Is this—is this Taehyung?”
The familiar yet so strange voice welcomes him, and the anger on the tip of his tongue dissolves. But he is still uncertain of his hypotheses on the identity of the caller on the other side. “Yes. Who is this?”
“Hi, sorry, this is Y/N. I know we just met and I am not even your acquaintance or anything, but can I ask for your help this time? I swear I owe you one after, but please just help me with this one.”
It’s Y/N. It’s seriously you on the other side, yet Taehyung could not believe his ears. Is his hearing deceiving him right now? You made it clear that seeing him again could be the second worst thing to happen to her—after a meteor suddenly falls and crashes on your favorite Mexican restaurant—but now you are calling him, not even a day after your last meeting? There must be something serious, and a bizarre worry immediately fills his head. “Y/N, what is it? What happened? Tell me.”
“I-I’m afraid I can’t tell you. But this is urgent, can you help me with this one? I promise I’ll pay the favor back, I swear.”
Taehyung discards the light insulted feeling on how you mention you’ll pay him back like your life depends on it, and instead focuses on the urgency in your tone. You seem greatly rushed, worried and almost scared, and never would he ever imagine of saying no to that. “Of course, Y/N. What is it, I’ll try helping the best I can.”
“Can I ask where are you right now? I need to go somewhere really urgent, can you take me there?”
Taehyung looks warily around him. There’s only an old lady with her dogs just walking past him. He is quite far from the crowd. “I am in Han River now. Where are you? I can pick you up from there.”
“No need, I’m actually quite near. Can you send me your location?”
And that’s how Taehyung spends another 10 minutes, trying to make out your face amongst the people walking around him. While focusing on the people passing around, suddenly a cold hand slaps his shoulder and sends Taehyung on his toes, startled beyond words. “Fuck, Y/N! You can’t startle me like that!”
“I’m sorry, Taehyung.” You apologetically wince, holding the black duffle bag close to your chest. “I won’t startle you again. That if we ever meet again, which I don’t really hope to. Can we go now?”
Taehyung rolls his eyes at your warm words. “Just a thing everyone expects from the person who is just asking for help, right?”
You smile widely until your eyes turn into mooncreases, and Taehyung feels his throat stricken dry. “Let’s go, Taehyung. I’ll tell you the direction.”
And that’s how you are for the second time seated in Taehyung’s black Audi, with him smoothly driving it in accordance to your directions. You bite your lips in nerve, occasionally stealing a glance at Taehyung who is busy driving, looking around the streets with hesitation. Of course he would be, the direction you are giving must be unfamiliar for nearly everyone sane. “Hey. Can I ask you something?”
You don’t want Taehyung to question where you are heading right now—as he will instantly dump your ass on the street with no second question asked. “Yes?” You whisper faintly, crossing your fingers that it would be anything but that question.
“Can I turn on the music? Are you okay with that?”
The tense on your body crashes down with an exhale. “Of course. It’s your car, Taehyung, you can do anything with it.”
Taehyung snorts. “I am just being nice. I seriously think you might be a grinch for any kind of fun, the type to love creepy, dead silence while driving.”
“You are seriously a child.” You shake your head in disbelief, and Taehyung's lean forefinger taps the music button, connecting to his phone. “And god, you seriously got no other car, Taehyung? A less flashy one, I guess?”
Taehyung smiles proudly, patting the wheel with affection evident in his eyes. “No. Cecil is my baby, and I would never trade her for anything else.”
You groan at the foreign name. “Who the fuck is Cecil? God, don’t tell me you’re that creep who names dead stuff.”
“Hey! You don’t know how long and what kind of things Cecil has gone through with me.” Taehyung literally yells. He is one peculiar pea, but you are in no place to judge anyway. You are literally a nobody. “And you can’t tell me that, Cecil is the one who is helping your ass to wherever we are going right now.”
You decide not to prolong the abnormal debate you had with Taehyung, so you turn silent and point to the direction of your destination. When the car is heading to dark, narrower streets, Taehyung realizes they are already too far outside downtown, in a place where he knows he would never visit in any possible scenarios in his life ever.
“Y/N, I know I am not supposed to ask anything, but this is getting creepy and I just need to know why the fuck are we in this creepy, suspicious place?” Taehyung hisses, noticing that everything is too dreadful to be true. He doesn’t even know this place to ever exist in Seoul—that’s if they are still in town. “Where are you taking me?! God, don’t tell me you are going to murder me, take Cecil with you and sell her away?! Please don’t do it, especially the last one!”
You sigh at his nonsense, frankly tired and majorly nervous since your destination is already near. You glance at the message displayed on your phone. He is already waiting. “God, Taehyung. We are just five minutes away, just drop me off anywhere and you can run off after.”
“What? No! What about you? How are you going home this late, and from this creepy ass place?!” Taehyung stares at you, and you can find a genuine worry in his eyes for your well being. God, you are speaking nonsense, since there is no way Taehyung can even have feelings for you other than lust, and that’s just fact.
“It’s okay, someone will take me home.” You doubtfully answer, wanting Taehyung to swallow your lies even if you are not so sure yourself. Somehow you doubt the man you are meeting now will have the heart to take you home after this. You can just grab a taxi or bus—if they are still available—after anyway, it should not be an issue, right? But even self pep talk does not change a thing, you are still scared beyond words. This neighborhood indeed terrifies you, especially at night.
The car is now settled in front of the dark building that you identify as your destination. “Are you sure, Y/N?” Taehyung mindfully asks one more time with hesitation fills his gaze. At the persistence, you are slightly touched. “I don’t know what you are doing or who you are meeting there, I won’t ask. But I swear, I don’t mind waiting for you.”
You have a hard time believing—when was the last time someone cares for your safety like this? Life has been just a constant repetition of pushing anyone away from nearly half of the things going on with you, and to have someone you clearly is just using and still greatly show his concern is so strange. Maybe it’s time to admit that Taehyung is not just the heartless fuckboy you expect him to be. He may be more than that.
But no, you don’t need to involve him further inside the mess you are in, and he won’t be near long enough to stay so no need to get in such depth with him. And only god knows what would happen to an elegant, once in a lifetime seen black expensive Audi parked in this neighborhood. “Taehyung, no. I’ll get home safe, I swear.”
Taehyung does not want to push his agenda, even if he is still unable to turn off the alarms at the back of his head. “Sure, if that’s what you want. At the very least please let me know when you arrive, or if anything happens, okay?”
You nod, not really sure what to reply to his untypical concern. But then the annoying Taehyung is back as he mutters the next reply. “Or don’t. I just realized I left my charge somewhere and my battery is dying, probably not gonna see them till the next two days.”
“You are fucking annoying.” You spit with a sarcastic smile and Taehyung chuckles lightly, lightening up the mood. “See you, Tae. And thank you for taking me, I owe you one.”
You walk inside, finding Taehyung’s Audi is still parked there. Seeing how he vaguely gets caught inside your mess, and you feel apologetic. You huff, braving youself to knock on the door, then find a man that has been blowing up your message for a while now. He holds you close, taking you inside the house with odd affection. “Baby, who is that with a black, expensive car? Is that your new boyfriend?”
You look at him, trying to keep your composure straight. You really do not want this despicable man in front of you to get any strange idea whatsoever about Taehyung. “He is not.” You adamantly hiss, pretending nonchalance. “He is here because you, somehow cannot pick me the fuck up. There is no uber or taxi that wants to get me here at this time of the night, and I swear to god you better get me home.”
That man pulls you closer, his lips closing on your side jaw and his arms circling your waist. All of a sudden, your resolve crumbles at his familiar touches. “I miss you, baby. And don’t worry about going home, you can stay the night here.”
His lips are swiftly grazing your sweet spot, right at your collarbone and you instinctively let out a moan of pleasure when he sucks on it like there is no tomorrow—to the point it will surely leave evident hickeys. God, he really knows you like the back of his hand and you have no idea whatsoever to do about it. Three years together is very evident now—he can read you effortlessly.
“Stop it.. You know I’m staying at my parent’s tonight, I have to go home.” You let out a hushed whisper, a moan escapes your lips when his hands slowly stray from your shoulder, down to your waist and to the area that leaves you breathless. God, you are out of your mind for him.
“Fuck them. You know I really miss you, baby… I seriously need to be inside you right now. Don’t you miss me? Stay tonight.”
At his discourteous words at the mention of your parents, any illusion and lust at wanting to have in any way he wants dissolve into thin air. He is still the same old, disrespectful man that will never give a shit about you, especially your parents. But what exactly was the expectation you have for him? You are foolish to even think he will magically has understanding and common sense, since he is a monster.
But you are the one responsible for creating this monster…
The familiar guilt instantly fills your chest all at once, and it vividly constricts in pain. You push the black bag to his chest in a rush. “Here’s what you asked. I just did the best I can—don’t call me again. I have to go home.”
As you run to exit the building, you half-expect him to hold you back, apologize, or do anything that somehow might stop you from leaving into the unwelcoming, shady neighborhood, at nearly midnight, but nothing. The frustration that suffocates your chest is too much, and it is extremely hard to breathe. Your head spins with countless voices running inside your head, screaming incoherent words that somehow sends you into a great panic.
And you take a deep breath. Then the second. Then the third, trying to empty your mind from any intrusive thoughts that are doing you no good whatsoever. Right until you can finally close everything off, trying to pick your phone and get an uber—if it’s even possible. The reason you needed to get Taehyung help in the first place is that no uber or taxi would like to even come close to this place, and there’s thin to none chance you’ll ever get one.
And you are correct, since it’s already five minutes in and there is no sign of your request ever finding a ride home tonight. You are in deep frustration for there is no hope whatsoever in getting back home. Your parents are away, but your grandma is home—you left your responsibility of taking care of her to meet that man. Your parents are going to kill you if they ever find out you are escaping home, especially to meet the man they hate the most in this whole world—the man who is greatly a bad influence on you, the man who made you hospitalized for months, the man who they recognize as your ex.
But even with how far he is from ideal, he is still the same man who fought for you. The man who taught you love and sacrificed himself for you in no way anyone would. You don’t want to let him go—you are aware that he has strayed far, but he’ll come back soon. You held onto that for a long time, even with the faith you have on him is slightly dwindling. It’s been nearly three years since that accident, and you found that he is still the same, obnoxious man he was and even worse, yet you cannot let him go. Your conscience would never let you.
Feeling the remorse that is starting to overwhelm your senses, you notice there is literally waste in vain to think about that. You have to think for the present, how the fuck can you do to get home? Your parents might be home any time now, and they will never let the matter go until you are forced to confess that you are indeed, meeting your ex—the one person they loathe the most.
So you decide to run for your life to the nearest stop to take a bus or any available transportation, away from the shady neighborhood. You start with a fast stride, but you hear a sound of an engine booming behind you, slowly creeping on your side of the street. The red alarm on your head is loudly screaming. Someone is following you, and at once the worst memories of your life hits you like a truck.
You abruptly fasten your pace, keep on running. But due to the nerves, your leg is close to giving up. You are exhausted beyond words, and the intrusive breakdown inside your head is not helping either. Just in five minutes you have no strength left and fall down on the pavements, your body trembling, tears crashing loudly as you hide your body inside your arms.
You never should have come to this place. You never should have come back to him. That time he loved you and cared so much about you was years ago, and he changed. He will no longer be there to rescue you. He doesn’t even give any shit about your safety. When will you ever be strong and stop whatever nonsense you are having for him?
“Hey, hey what happened, Y/N? Why are you crying?!”
You are still bawling your eyes out like there is no tomorrow, your whole body trembling hard with both your legs secured on your chest. Someone is touching your arms, but you are too frightened by the imagination inside your head so you can do anything but to hold your legs even closer. “Please.. Please don’t hurt me..”
“Y/N, what are you—This is Taehyung. I have been calling you since you walked out, but you are not responding. Y/N, you are shaking so hard.. God, you’re scaring me. Please say something.”
After listening to the words that send you to a haze for having a hard time believing whatever it is, that man holds you close, his strong arms around your shoulder, his wide palm caressing your upper back slowly. “Take a breath, Y/N. You are panicking, but it’s okay. Take a deep breath. Everything is okay. I am here.”
At the constant calming ministration from Taehyung, along with his warm hug around your trembling, drenched with cold sweat body, you find the tense on your body is progressively decreasing to the point you can finally think and speak clearly without any more tears falling on the side of your cheek. You look up, finding Taehyung’s worried gaze seeking into yours.
“Why are you here, Tae? I thought you went back.”
Noticing how much you already get better from the panic attack, Taehyung can finally let go the breath he has been holding for quite a long time now. “I was about to, but—hey, I’ll tell you everything in the car. For now let’s go, you have been sitting on a pavement, who knows what germs you can catch from there.” Taehyung whispers with a vivid disgust on his tone. At that, you can finally smile. Albeit thin, Taehyung feels like he has achieved something remarkable. He quickly holds you up, arms secured around your waist to help you walk inside his car.
Taehyung opens the door for you, yet you are still hesitating to enter. “Get in, Y/N. I’ll take you home.”
“But.. your seat. What if my germs polluted your seat?” You are innocently concerned, and Taehyung can’t help but to chuckle. He did not expect such polite questions coming from you who just had a literal breakdown, yet he finds it endearing.
“It’s okay, Y/N. I’ll be taking Cecil to car service tomorrow as well, so it’s no issue. Get in.”
Dubiously you step your left foot inside, before you gasp in surprise that shocks Taehyung as well. “I have a scarf! Let me sit on that.”
Taehyung follows your vigor on going through the small bag hanging on your shoulder with his eyes. “Not really necessary, but whatever. I’d prefer your shirt though. Can you sit on it instead?”
You snort. “Pervert.” He responds with a smirk, skipping to the driver side.
After a good ten minute driving in silence, you open your voice, your fingers nervously fondling on the button of your purse. “Thank you for waiting. You are such a lifesaver, I-I seriously don’t know what I will do if you are not there.”
Taehyung nods, his right hand brushing through the expanse of his jaw and you intensely follow the swear-to-god attractive gesture. God, you cannot believe how someone can be that charming while driving, it’s seriously making no sense. You continue after clearing your throat. “What happened? Why didn’t you leave?”
He glances at you with tranquility, shrugging his shoulder. “I was about to leave, but I don’t know. The song I was listening to was good so I just decided to stay for a while, and then you walk out so I follow you. The end.”
Your eyes narrowed, staring at him intently. “That is a lie.”
“Maybe.”
“Then tell me what happened!”
He shrugs. “Nah.”
You look at him in obvious exasperation. “Taehyung, for god sake tell me what happened! What can possibly make you stay in this hellish neighborhood?”
Taehyung grins. “I don’t ask what happened with the hickey on your collarbone either, sweetheart. And It’s nothing, seriously. Nothing out of the ordinary.”
Your fingers instinctively land on your clavicle, feeling the strange pain emerging when so. Shamefully ducks your head in embarrassment, you throw your face to your side of the window. “You're annoying.”
“I’ve been called that a lot. By you, actually.”
“Then maybe you should stop being annoying.” You sarcastically grin.
He jokingly wriggles his sharp eyebrows. “That’s kind of my trademark, so I’m sorry I cannot fulfill the request, sweetheart.” You huff and decided not to continue the endless debate.
Another ten minutes filled with silence, until you break it with your still irritated tone. “Can we play my song now? The song you played before sucks.”
Taehyung murmurs an agreement, a thin smile finding his lips. You connect your phone, then finding the one song you always tune into. The song that reminds you of the good times when life is less than complicated.
“Is this Bee Gees?” Taehyung asks with an amused tone, nothing ever crosses his mind that you would be the type to tune to oldies songs for drive songs.
“Yup. This is More Than a Woman.” You nod, then send a judgmental stare at him. “What? You think I am lame for listening to old songs? Yeah, no surprise there.”
He smiles heartily, finding this new side of you that is unforeseen yet very delightful. “No, I actually like this song too. My father used to sing this song when I was a kid. The whole album, actually. I even have the vinyl cd in my room.”
Seeing that Taehyung is indeed earnest, opening up a little about his life, you find yourself smiling at your own great memory as well. “Me too. My grandfather used to sing this song to my grandmother, uhm.. before he passed away.. a few years ago. I would always listen to this song and then I would always be reminded about how much love they have for me.”
You don’t even know why you are explaining such an intimate story of your life to a fuckboy whom you barely know. But now, it’s hard to even think Taehyung is the jackass everyone and even himself proclaimed. He is just a man—a friend, who helps you when you need him the most, who doesn’t pry and understand the space you need better than anyone else. You are grateful he is there, and to say these personal things to him.
Taehyung smiles at you and you can’t help but to reciprocate. His fingers tapping rhythmically on the wheel along to the beat, humming along with you to the wonderful music inside his car.
Here in your arms I found my paradise
My only chance for happiness
And if I lose you now I think I would die
Oh say you'll always be my baby, we can make it shine
We can take forever, just a minute at a time
*
“I don’t know where my keys are!”
Yup, you are a certified, sloppy idiot. You have been standing on your house gate for exactly fifteen minutes, trying to find where the fuck did you place your keys. You are trying to search your short lived memory where you placed them, but the only thing you remember before going to Han River to meet Taehyung is how rushed and panicked you are, trying to find excuses for your grandmother.
And Taehyung stood besides you, helping you to hold the flashlight so you can make anything inside your ransacked purse. “I can’t find it!” You hiss worriedly, glancing at your watch. “I don’t think my parents are home yet, and my grandmother should be asleep by now. I will just sneak in.”
“This is dangerous! Someone might catch you and think we are thieves, Y/N, I don’t think it's a good idea, especially at this time.” Taehyung advises, his tone full of worry. You look to him scornfully, accepting that he is indeed right. There are cctvs being installed on every corner of the street, and you don’t think it would be pretty to be caught and perceived as a thief while climbing your own house. Your parents will figure out either way, and to be told by your neighborhood security that their daughter is climbing inside with a ‘help’ of a man would be the last thing you want to happen.
“I do not know what I have to do.” You mutter, hiding your face inside your palms, cursing your forgetful self internally. Now you have to wait for your parents, confessing that you indeed get out at nearly midnight. And they will chastise you to know where you have been, immediately accusing you for meeting your ex—which in fact is indeed the truth. You are screwed.
“Hey, we can wait for your parents then. We’ll think of a way, no worry, Y/N.” Taehyung said carefully, noticing your forlorn gesture with hands resting on your shoulder. You look at him with a frown and reddened face.
“It’s okay if you have to leave. You have been a great help, Taehyung. I seriously do not know what would happen if it weren’t for you.” You mutter in regret, then he answers by sternly shaking his head, clicking his tongue.
“Hey, I might be a dick but I am certainly not to that extent to leave a girl on the street nearing dawn.”
“I can protect myself, if that’s what you are worried about.”
Taehyung chuckles, keeping his hands inside his pocket. “I am well aware that you can kick my ass to ditch, Y/N. But my conscience just won’t let me.”
Before you can persuade him again to go back home, the familiar creaking sound of your front door is heard and you throw your head back inside, detecting your grandmother, peering outside to the sound of her granddaughter.
“Grandma! You are not asleep?!” You nearly yell, but then realize that it is already so late for any loud noises and manage to lower your volume. “It’s past midnight, you should be asleep! I told you to sleep first and not wait for me.”
“Huh, this girl! How can I sleep when I know you are still wandering out there, at this late of night.” Your grandma hisses, walking with her cane to the gate. “Why didn't you come in? Where are your keys?”
The frown on your lips deepen. “I lost them, grandma…”
Your grandma hiss in distaste, before realizing that his granddaughter is not alone. While opening the gate, her tone changes as she questions the man beside you “Who is this? Is this your friend?”
You just remembered that Taehyung is still present, now both his hands politely joined and a civil, yet timid smile on his lips. You look back at your grandma, strongly warning you with her intimidating gaze to introduce him right away. “Y-yes! Grandma, This is Taehyung. Tae, this is my grandma.”
“Good evening, grandma. I’m sorry we arrived so late tonight, I can assure you it will not happen again.” Taehyung apologizes with heavy sincerity and a bow. You are mildly confused by his never-seen-before politeness, especially to your family. Of course it will not happen again, Taehyung would easily walk out of your life after the constant problem you put him in. But still, it brings such a strange emotion to your heart on how good-mannered he is to your grandmother—and you kind of have a slight hint of why.
“Kids these days, seriously.” Your grandma shakes her head, but still motions both of you to enter the house. “Come in, then. You two.”
“Taehyung can’t stay, grandma! He has to go back, it’s been a long night.” You try to reason in panic, but your grandmother’s slap on your shoulder to enter the house quickly resonates that she is not open for negotiation. There is no other way than to follow her order, so you begrudgingly leave the scene, with an apologetic smile on your face to Taehyung’s way. You seriously owe him nearly everything—you swear you will do anything to repay him.
“You really have to go back, Taehyung? I want to talk to you, though. I promise it won’t take long.” Your grandmother intimidatingly offers, and Taehyung gulps in overwhelming nerves. It is probably the first time for a while since he met someone’s close relative—he even hardly met his own—and your grandma is too intimidating; he doesn’t even remember the word no.
“Let’s talk, then.” Your grandma smiles, waving off the cold persona right after taking in his acceptance. She rests her hand on Taehyung's arm to lead him inside the house. “Have you eaten? We have some extra food. I also made Darjeeling tea, it’s good for you young people. I know you will like it.” Taehyung smiles with a nod, his head slightly spins and an aloof thought invades his head, all regarding his precious platinum rule.
Never ever meet a girl’s relatives under any, any circumstance ever.
God, this is not good.
*
It’s already past 1am, and an hour after you safely arrived inside your house. Upstairs, you wanted to help Taehyung dealing with your pesky grandmother, but she refused you to come down and mentioned that she wanted to talk to him only. You know what that means—another drama coming your way. You seriously cannot stress how much you owe Taehyung, he has been nothing but kind and helpful today. You wanted to eavesdrop on their conversation, but your body is too tired to even deal with even more drama. You just need to set your grandmother straight that Taehyung is just a friend, right in the morning. Your parents don’t have to know as well, and everything can go as well as before.
But even with your nearly numb body, your consciousness is wide awake and you cannot sleep. So after a short while and hearing the soft engine of Taehyung’s car far in the distance, you dial his number. Hopefully it still has power—you remember Taehyung mentioned how near dead it was.
Right after two beeps he thankfully picks up. “Hi, Taehyung. You went home already?”
“Yup.” He emphasizes on the p.
You wince at his distant answer. “Are you mad at me? I apologize, I am nothing but a hassle today, you must regret helping me.”
Then his lighthearted chuckle is heard, and the tense on your body instinctively loosen up. “It’s okay. Not gonna lie, today is quite overwhelming. But I think in a weird, twisted way I needed that. A distraction, I mean.”
“Well, at least you are entertained by my lackluster life.” You joke, and both of you cackle. You cannot fathom your feeling right now, hearing his breathy voice on the other side of the call. You know you have been through a lot today, but somehow finally closing it with Taehyung, you feel somewhat relieved. “Did grandma say anything weird?”
“No, we just drank her god-sent Darjeeling tea. I seriously think I need to order it myself. Gonna search for it online after this. Ah, she also said I am handsome.”
You smile heartily, flipping to the other side of your bed. What a lie. “I sure can vouch for that. You are indeed handsome.”
Taehyung loudly gasps, cheeks tingling upon your unpredictable sincere compliment. “What—did you injure your head or what? Are you finally admitting that, Y/N? Never thought I’d hear it from you.”
You catch yourself slipping, slapping your mouth. “Yup, I think I injured my head. But no worry, pretty boys like you are dime a dozen. I’ll find you anywhere.” You nervously snort, internally disagreeing to your own words. There is something about Taehyung’s charming ways that always keep you on the edge, and you have never found it in anyone else.
“That’s more like you.” He hums. “Go to sleep, Y/N. It’s been a long night, you deserve it.”
You hum lowly while closing your eyes, feeling the sudden sleepiness embraces you. “Okay. Thank you so much for today, Taehyung. I owe you one, okay? See you soon.”
Taehyung finally closes the call, a thin smile reaching his lips. Seriously, he doesn’t know how he can go through everything in the span of 24 hours, the thing with Mina, meeting you and breaking all his platinum rules for a girl he thought he wouldn’t see a second time. A statement from your grandmother suddenly passes through his head and Taehyung shifts uncomfortably in his seat.
She is a strong girl, but she is fragile right now, and in need for someone to believe in.
Someone to believe in? That's most absolutely not him. Frankly, he is the absolute far on the other side from someone to believe in. He doesn’t even believe in himself, how could your grandmother say that to him? Does he seriously look like someone to believe?
But when Taehyung rewinds what your grandmother explained, along with the panic attack you had just a few hours ago—he finds it peculiarly identical to himself. In a way, both of you are scarred. Life takes a huge toll on you, and he can understand what you were feeling. Living with a deep scar itself is scary, but now that he knows that he is not alone—there is someone, deeply affected about something alike, he doesn’t feel so alone anymore. All these times he always feels like he needs someone, that he is a burden to someone, but it feels reassuring to be the one lending a hand for someone else’s misery.
Among the silence and his busy thoughts, the phone rings. Taehyung is quick to answer and the call resonates on his car. “Yes. I need car service. Some idiot bastards just scratched Cecil, it’s pretty bad. They scratched it with knives I think—i don’t really know. You can pick her up on my usual. Thanks.”
*
It has been a week since you last saw Taehyung that eventful night, and even with how desperate you are to text him again, you find yourself hesitating while typing the words. What if he thought you are looking deeper into everything? You are just a mere girl he fucked before, and it is as clear as a day that Taehyung dislikes and avoids any form of attachment—and even though you are not even offering anything other than trying to pay all his kindness back, you are still unsure.
Since that night, one thing that you know is your grandmother loves Taehyung—she can’t stop talking about him and asking where he is ever since that night. Both of your parents are aware as well, they are a bit hysterical at first at the unannounced appearance of a boy close to you—you know how wary they are ever since your last boyfriend, but after hearing how great he is from your grandmother slash the best personality judge to ever exist, your parents easily approve. Could also be to the fact that they are quite amazed by such a young man using a luxury Audi car—yes, your parents are primitives like that.
But another thing you notice is how over-jubilant they are at the sudden appearance of Taehyung, more than you expect. You know how much they have been stressing over the fact that you might still be in contact with your ex—which you still are, but they are better off not knowing—but you didn’t know it would go to that extent. They can finally joke about you finally being in ‘young’ love, which is also total nonsense.
The worst thing is that your mother even called you and cried one night, telling that she is relieved that you finally can find someone else instead of coming back to your previous toxic relationship with your ex—oh, how can you let her know? At that time, you feel guilty beyond words. There is literally nothing going on between you and Taehyung—you even doubt if you can label whatever going on between you as friendship, it all could be just a charity work on his part, but you don’t have the heart to say so to her. Hence you just nod, promising that you would try asking him the dinner your mother asked for.
And now it’s all more confusing since you don’t know how to approach the matter. There is no way in hell Taehyung would ever agree meeting your parents—and the case itself is helpless. But your parents are very happy now, and to have it knocked away for a lie would greatly affect them in a bad way. Especially starting today, you moved out from your shared apartment back to your parents home. You love your independence, but you desperately need the money, especially since the extra side job of writing columns pays now needs to be shared with your parents as well due to your father's condition that enforces him to do his routine dialysis. The insurance helps, but it still costs massive on the pocket so you are more than willing to help them.
So you are seated now, waiting for your class to start. Your fingers tapping on the keyboard to draft a message that will be sent to Taehyung. It has been twenty agonizing minutes, and by every word typed and erased, you feel jittery. To the point you are finally too tired and give up, slamming your phone on the table and running your fingers through your hair in distress.
The sudden ring of your phone comes into your senses, and you are expecting nothing but then seeing the message, it effectively fastens the pound in your chest and you literally think you will cry. It's literally godsend, actually—how can he come through at the time you need him the most is beyond you.
From : Taehyung
Hi, just wanna ask if that ‘thank you so much for today, Taehyung. I owe you one, okay? See you soon’ thing is true or just bogus since i did not get any message since last week
You smile wholeheartedly, right from ear to ear at his witty message. So you swiftly type in another response, which may or may not contain a bit of a lie but Taehyung is better off not knowing how much you think of him in the past week.
To : Taehyung
Hi, sorry the bitch you are contacting is busy with packing her things to move back home. Can she meet you later this afternoon for lunch?
You don’t even have to wait for another long minute as his reply came almost immediately.
From : Taehyung
Sure! But she better be paying cause Taehyung is sloppy and forgot to bring his wallet! 😉
You chuckle lightly, typing the cafe name located near college, following another message.
To : Taehyung
Such slop. But no worries, she would gladly pay! Since she should finish the class quite early, she's going to wait for you in the near park, so find her there, okay?
From : Taehyung
Don’t know until when we are going to address ourselves in third perspective but I am all for it. See you soon, beautiful! xx
You roll your eyes at his flirty text. Fuckboys and their annoying suave talks, yet inside, you are unable to hold your lips from smiling—to the point that your ex-roommate had to question how suspiciously vibrant you are today, especially during the worst class to date. You respond with a shake on your head, still with the same foolish smile plastered on your lips that is too eerie to be true for her.
Right after it’s finished, you run to exit the class—more because you need to avoid the question from your best friend on where you are heading, since you are meeting her boyfriend’s best friend you said you hated. It also seems like Taehyung is also inconvenient to let Jungkook know about your rendezvous, so you decide to keep this for yourselves first.
The weather on your way to the cafe is amazing, the afternoon breeze is lukewarm, the sun is adequately shining, conveniently settling on the skin. When you arrive, you take a seat on the nearest bench, heaving a deep breath and close your eyes. You clearly feel happy, contributed due to the weight from thinking about Taehyung and your parents slightly lifted off your shoulder. At least now you are on a talking basis with him. That’s a progress.
But as it always has been, something just had to ruin your temporary happiness. He is there, seated right beside you. Noticing the weight press on the other side of the bench, you look up, and finding your past lover, Jisung.
“Jisung!” You gasp in shock, your heart nearly falls out of your chest. He is here, in your college, right beside you. “What are you doing here?!”
He smiles, his fingers raised to your ear, settling a few stranded hairs behind your ears. The affectionate gesture suddenly throws you off your horse, as the sudden confusion does bring unwanted memories of your past with him. “I just wanted to see you baby. How you are doing, right now. I see you went home safely that midnight, quite shocking I would say.”
At his unpleasant words, you swat his hands away, facing him with a cold, hardened stare. “You are a jerk, you know that? You let me go home all by myself, in your own dangerous neighborhood when I went there to give you what you need. You are seriously the worst.” Muttering your sentence, you feel a tidal wave of anger and sadness crushes you in.
“Hey, I don’t mean it like that, babe. You also get to go home with your hotshot fling as well, so you can thank me, right?” He sarcastically responds, and you feel repulsed at his words mentioning Taehyung—who in high chance must have brushed his annoying male ego. Jisung scoots to your side, his arms holding you close. But you felt nothing but disgust.
“Don’t be like that, baby. You know I miss you. No matter how far you are searching for someone better, or richer, I will be the only one who understands you and your body, babe.”
You are silent, neither accepting or rejecting his advances. You feel numb, you feel used, yet you don’t do anything to push him away. It’s like whenever he is near, you feel the urge to fix him. He was the victim—and so were you. Yet he was the one that was and still is greatly affected by the wrongdoings of other people. So you still believe that the good Jisung you love is there, somewhere inside this man you barely even know.
Jisung was your boyfriend, two years ago in high school. He was a humble, smart scholarship boy that loved to play soccer. You were just a simple girl who loved to write about everything on your blog, especially lenient towards politics and policy. One simple day after a busy semester—due to your social science project team that always sends you on heated debate with him, Jisung somehow confessed. He told you he always liked you, the way your eyes crinkle while writing, the way you scoff during debate, and especially the way you smile for everyone but him—it was a surprising yet sweet confession, but against all odds you accepted it since you did adore him, even with the debates and nonsensical statements coming out of his mouth. That’s how you started a blooming, new relationship with him.
Six month passed, and you could proudly say that you were indeed in love with him. He was sweet, albeit dumb sometimes, he is the kindest person to ever exist and you loved it for him. Everything was great, but as most things, it all finally went downhill—when a transfer student is registered at your class. His father was the right hand of the president at that time. Few weeks in, you realize that he put too much attention on you. You tried to ignore it, but the contact was getting intense so you set him straight that you did not like him and you had a boyfriend. But being a golden spoon kid since he was born, he never learned rejection.
One Friday evening, when you had just finished your assignment in the library and were about to meet your boyfriend to head home together, that transfer kid pulled you away and kidnapped you to the back of the school. He was angry at your rejection, and forced you to do the things you never wanted to do with anyone, and you loudly screamed for help. The enormous school was nearing empty due to the weekend, and no one could hear you. You were nearly losing hope, too weak to do anything but cry, then your boyfriend found you. He was going to check up on you since you already took a long time, but seeing the unbelievable scene, he instantly sent a hard punch to the bastard, right on the face. But not even a punch or two suffice, Jisung punched him to pulp until he passed out, with you shivering and crying loudly on the side.
Then a few days later, everyone finds out about the issue, and somehow the media caught it as well, the president’s right hand son is hospitalized due to a school fight. But one thing that did not sit right was that everything in the story is twisted to transfer kids' benefit. He was hospitalized, so the school and media immediately sided on him, telling that he was injured by a rebellious kid in school and disregarding the real cause of the matter. You tried hard to explain to your headmaster, everyone that might believe you, but there was no evidence and you were the girlfriend—you were trusted not to be objective. So Jisung was expelled from school, and his scholarship was taken away from him. His strict parents did not believe him even a bit and kicked him out of the house. Jisung’s life hit rock bottom.
You were heartbroken and guilty beyond words. Jisung had his life crumbling down in a moment, all because of you, because he helped you and defended your honor. You owed him everything, and you knew how hard it was for him. Jisung refused to see you, and when you tried talking to him about it, he harshly broke up with you, crying and shouting while implicitly blaming you for how his life turned out. You also cried that evening, and you begged him not to and promised you would do everything in your power to help him.
But no matter how hard you begged him to stay, he still went missing for a few months and you cried nearly everyday. It was killing you, to the point you didn’t even want to go to school anymore. You hated everyone—you hated how unfair life was for him, someone you loved so much. And frankly, you missed Jisung, you miss your ex-boyfriend and would do anything to have him back. There’s never a day you forget sending him a message, apologizing and begging him to come back.
And he did come back to see you, exactly four months after. But at that time, he already changed. He was no longer the sweet, affectionate Jisung you loved and remembered—he was someone else. He joined and lived with a rebellious gang downtown. As predicted, he did not continue his studies, and god knows what conniving things he was doing to get money on a daily basis. When he came back and professed his love for you, you were hesitant. He was no longer your Jisung, but the complete opposite. But the next day he called you, crying about how life was becoming too hard and wanted to take his own life. That was also the time you’d do anything for him to stop, and agreed to get back with him. And thus began the most horrifying part of your life, one you never even want to remember.
“Baby, don’t you miss me?” He whispers to your ear, noticing your distant stare and silence. But you pushed him away, realizing how improper that you are still in the university area. “I missed you so much. No one can ever suffice your beautiful body against mine, babe.”
“Stop it, Jisung. I am not your sex slave, the one you can do anything against my will.” You hiss, pushing him away with a hardened stare filled with hatred and disgust. “I gave you the money you want. What do you want more from me?”
“I need more, of course.” He grinned, running his fingers on your lips. “Money is hard nowadays, babe. I notice that you got yourself a new, rich fling now. Get some of that hard cash and give it to me, will you?”
You stand up, peering against in disgust, but you were saddened beyond words—tears pooling on the side of your eyes. “You are the worst human being. I am not giving you anything more, especially when you are going to spend it on gambling and sluts.”
He pulled you back down, nails stabbing your skin until you are sure it will bleed. Your heart pounds too loud until it echoes in your ear. “Listen here, you bitch. Do you know who caused me like this? It’s you. You ruined my life, and you have to take responsibility for it.”
He lets go of your hand and leaves you trembling and your breath irregular. Dizziness suddenly enters your head, and you never feel alone to that extent you want to puke to the exhausting feeling. You hold your legs closer to your chest, hiding your face inside to shout all the frustration bubbling up in your chest, as loud as you can.
“Y/N, why are you— What did he do?!”
It’s Taehyung, you are well aware it is him. A sudden recognition of the promised lunch you have with him passed through your head and you take a few deep breaths and try to shove the matter far away from your mind. You look up to him with a forced smile, wiping away your tears with the back of your sleeve. “Taehyung, how long have you been here? Sorry, I didn’t—”
“I was here before you even came. I was on the other side of the park, and noticed you were talking to some guy. I did not want to interrupt and left for a while, and I came and you are already crying. What the fuck happened, Y/N?” Taehyung asks in deep frustration on his eyes, his palm cupping your face to look up to him. “Who was he? Was he—the one you were meeting a week ago?”
You are not answering, still looking faraway to nothingness and Taehyung hiss in agitation. “Y/N, I am no longer taking this lightly. This—this is bad. Please, tell me about this.” When you are still silent, Taehyung looks at you somberly, pleading for you to look back at him. “Y/N. I am your friend. Please, please let me help you.”
And then you break down into loud sobs, finding purchase in his arms around you. You never felt so sad before—all the bad memories from your past coming back to you, throwing you back into a state of panic. But as Taehyung soothes your back in a calming manner, listening to your incoherent words, you can gradually breathe. “I am sorry. I am such a mess.” You whisper to him, and let go of the hug. “I don’t think I can tell you without you being disgusted at who I really am. I am not the girl you thought I was, Tae. I am way worse.”
Taehyung looks up at you with a serene smile, wiping the tears away from your cheek. “Y/N, I am telling this because I know you will not prematurely judge, but I kissed a married woman last week. There’s no way you can top that.”
Your eyes are wide in shock at that, and Taehyung smiles at your reaction. Regardless of being scared that you will assume anything without him getting to explain, he is just glad he can be truthful to someone, especially when it is you. “I don’t know if you would really listen to my boring story. But it has been bothering my mind for quite sometimes now. Can I drop that on you?”
You nod and smile at his effort trying to take your minds off things and feel better. Not that you dislike it—it does succeed. “Of course. But not if we have to sit here, starving. Do you want to get in?”
He smiles, squeezing your shoulder and lead you inside the cafe. “If you are paying, then yes. If not, let’s go back to my frat and ask that shithead Jungkook to pay instead.”
*
After approximately four hours talking about each other and dirty looks thrown by the waitress at your prolonged stay inside, you moved places from the cafe to Han River, the exact spot you met him before—Taehyung said this was a place for him whenever he is sad and needs some time to think. Did you understand him better. He was a child of divorce, he is living with his father in Seoul and his mother is remarried and staying in London. The last time he met his father was six months ago. At that time he said that he missed his grandmother a lot, he lived with her all through childhood but after she passed away, he was mostly taken care of by nannies. That’s why meeting your grandmother was a remedy or it’s kind—he was reminded of the fond memories with his own grandmother.
Taehyung also told you about the married woman he mentioned previously, and you felt sad for him. It must not have been easy, someone who does not really believe in love to have feelings for someone he can never have. But in a way, he believe there is a silver lining to meeting her—and in a way, you are amazed by how mature he was throughout everything. Yes, Taehyung may have scarred himself and the people around him, and done many things wrong as well, but to be able to live and act the way he did really brings him to a whole new light.
So when you told him with bright, tearful eyes about how much you are proud of what he did, it could be one of the moments Taehyung never thought he would cry in front of someone else but did. It was hard, like always feeling like he did everything wrong—but you are here, right in front of him, giving him the word he needed the most. He is glad that he was able to talk it out to someone, and that someone being you.
And when you are seated inside his car, looking out to the beautiful light posts alongside the Han River, you know it was your turn to open up and you did. You told him about everything, leaving no details about your past with Jisung. Even when you are just two sentences in, you are already crying, but it was inevitable. Taehyung holds your hands, his eyes filled with understanding. “Hey, hey. You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.”
But you shake your head, smiling up to him and squeezing his hand back. “No-I need to tell you this. I want to tell you this. I think one of the main problems is that I always keep this from everyone—especially my friends. I would love it for you to know.”
Then you continue about your past experience. About how Jisung helped you against a bastard who was able to turn everyone to his side in the end. How Jisung left and put the blame on you. And in the end, you find yourself not being able to continue, but Taehyung kept you close, hugging you as he pecked the top of your head. “I loved him—I really did. I thought I did. It was all my fault—”
“Y/N, It’s not your fault. At the beginning, you both are just victims but after that, he was nothing but a manipulative asshole who used you for his own benefits.” Taehyung feels his heart clenched at the thoughts of your past with him—how you were held captive and forced to keep up to whatever vile activities he was doing with his gang. “Y/N, you got to stop going out with this guy. He did not even love you anymore—he is just using you…”
You know it, your sanity always told you that, but the moment Taehyung said it, it’s just.. disheartening. “I know, Tae. But—what if? What if the accident did not happen? What if we were not together? He could be living the best life right now, attending the best university in the country, meeting someone else better, helping his family's economy…”
Taehyung caresses your head, his low whispers awakening your senses. “Y/N, we cannot include what if scenario in this, you know it. Yes, there is a possibility that it should have gone better, but there is also a worse scenario too, right? And to be frank, all of the choices were on him. He could have done something better with his life, yet he was the one who chose hanging out with those bad guys, not you. So please stop hurting and blaming yourself now.”
You nod, resting your head inside his chest, crying every suffocating tears to your limit. “I wanted to. I wanted to stop, Tae. But I can’t, he will always come back.”
“Y/N, it might hurt but I think you should go to the police.” He advises, and you let go, looking up to him in shock. “It is just a suggestion, don’t hate me. I do think it is for the better. Your parents even forbid you to do so, and you were even hospitalized and depressed because of him. Now he always wants something from you, blackmailing you.. He does nothing but damage to you.”
Inside, this delusional part of you wanted to defend Jisung and all your own past doings, but you know you are not making any sense and Taehyung is right. But throwing Jisung inside jail? The thought even scares you. “I don’t know. I’ll think about it.”
Taehyung scoff in disbelief at your clear disdain of his suggestion. “Wait.. Do you—do you possibly still have feelings for this bastard?”
At that statement, you look away from his proding eyes. Do you? You are not even sure about that. Yes, Jisung could be the worst, most toxic people that caused nothing good to you, but you cannot lie that you always find yourself finding the goodness inside him, always reacting to his touches and sweet talks—it’s involuntary. You are an idiot that somehow still likes him… “I.. I don't know.”
“This is crazy.” Taehyung whispers, more to himself. He doesn’t even know how you haven’t thrown this bastard inside jail—and it is somehow because you still have feelings for him. “This is overly altruistic and borderline masochist, Y/N.”
“I… I know. Can we please drop it? I-I don’t want to talk about it for now.”
Taehyung realizes that he has been insensitively judgmental of you, and he winces and reaches out for your hand. “I am sorry. You are one of the strongest, greatest women I have ever known, and... And I guess it’s sad to know that you have been through this and.. It’s nothing. I apologize.”
You look up to him and nod, looking up to him with a warm smile. “That’s okay, I can see where you are coming from. It’s a surprise as well, as I never thought you would be the great listener type and give kickass advice too, Tae. You are a very great friend, do you know it?”
He cheekily smiles, shooting you a wink. “I’ve been told so. By myself, I mean.”
“I think we should drop the depressing, real talk.” You chuckle, and so does he. “I am glad we did it, but let's refrain from it for the time being. I am fucking drained now, and hungry.”
“Me too! I am starving. Do you want to grab something on the way home?” Taehyung looks around in vision, trying to move his car. You did not even realize the disappointment in the pit of your stomach at the mention of going home—your parents and grandma are the reason, but majorly due to the thought of the day is about to come to an end. It’s just ten pm, and you really, really had a pleasant time with Taehyung. “We can grab takeouts too, if you have to go home now. Or even we can go directly home and—”
He was nervous, and you cannot help but to smile of reassurance. “It’s okay. I’m thinking of McDonald’s. You in?”
He coos loudly with fake tears. “You know what, Y/N? You just get me.”
The way to McDonald’s, your mind is suddenly caught on the fact that your family is assuming Taehyung as your boyfriend. “Hi, Tae. Can I ask you something?”
“Sure, sweetheart.” He responds lightly, without noticing what the nickname does to you, focusing on the street in front of him, and you cannot hold the blush blooming on your cheek. You were thankful that it was already dark, or you would have let him catch you slipping for the nth time today. “Anything you want to know?”
“Yes. So…. get this.” You start with vivid nerves, looking down to your lap timidly. “My grandma really, really likes you. I don’t know what happened, or how can you hypnotist her since all she can talk about now is you. I think she even forgot I am the granddaughter sometimes.” Taehyung chuckles widely, showing the creases on the corner of his eyes and it is so infectious you can’t hold a smile either, the tense on your shoulder slightly loosening. “And since she could not shut up about you, my parents are aware too. About you, I mean.”
Taehyung looks at you, a hint of surprise on his face. “Uhm, really? Wow, never thought it would be that big of a deal.”
“It is. I didn’t tell you this, but I have never introduced any friends, especially male ones to family ever since Jisung happened…” You mutter, volume getting smaller by each word. “So, it was a big deal for them. And my family can be presumptuous sometimes.. And…” You hold your breath, your mind conflicted whether you should tell him or not because you are sure Taehyung would reject you straight away and harshly. You know it well, but your heart is pained at the imagination of Taehyung telling you to fuck off with your silly proposition. So you take a drastic turn and hold back your request. “I...No. It’s nothing.”
Taehyung looks at you in worry. “Hey, you can tell me anything. It’s okay.”
You look up to him with a pout. “Can you promise me you won’t be mean?”
“What are you—of course I won’t, Y/N.” He giggles, giving your hand a light squeeze that nearly takes your breath away. “You can tell me everything.”
“Okay, here goes.” You whisper, trying to muster the leftover courage. “So, my parents and grandma kinda can’t stop talking about you... thinking you are my boyfriend. I never brought anyone after Jisung and… they just thought it was a big deal.” You look straight ahead, still afraid to find whether there is disgust on Taehyung’s face.
“So?” Taehyung asks neutrally. “It’s fine. You can just tell them the truth.. that we’re not dating?” There was an edge on his response, and you are certain he is not getting anything out of your desperate sentence.
“But I don't think I want to drop that on them.” You continue breathily, biting your lower lips in hesitation. “They are going through some tough times right now, with my father's sickness and all—the news about me dating an averagely decent man with no crime history list could probably be the only good thing going for them. They’d be disappointed to learn that we are just friends.”
“Well, they don’t know who I am yet—what if I am a mafia man with a kick ass car that I bought with money from bank robbery?”
You look up to him, rolling your eyes but trying to display your best puppy face to date. “You left a great impression on them… Can we at least pretend we are dating? For just a few weeks, and it’s nothing big, I swear. You still can do your hookups, whatever okay to you. I could just tell we broke up in the next month or whenever convenient.”
Taehyung looks at you in hesitation, a little bit unsure. “I know—but are you sure? All rom-coms never ended well for that fake relationship bullshit.”
“Surprise on you watching lots of rom coms aside, I know we’ll be fine. All those cliche bullshit always ends in anyone falling in love, but that’s not us, right…?” The second you say those things, a literal large, blazing red exclamation point on the side of the street. You are hoping it is not a bad omen. “Please say yes. I know this is a big thing and I owe you a lot already, Taehyung. But I swear this is the last time. I would do anything for you to say yes.”
Fake dating you? He did not know how to do that, especially since he has to talk to your parents whatsoever—even the thought scares him as he never got along with his own either. What if he messes up and everything goes down in ashes? Taehyung literally was about to reject, when your last sentence caught his attention, shown by his raised left eyebrows. “Anything?”
You scorn, sending a look at him in disgust. “Are you seriously asking sex out of the deal right now, Taehyung?”
“No! Of course not. That is unnecessary. You know I can have sex with you with your greatest consent and you’d be begging for it.” The cocky jackass dares to wink, and you hate how partly right he is with that. Well, maybe not just partly. “So, not that. Okay, I will agree to your proposition. I have something in mind.”
You nod, rubbing your palms together. “Okay. Lay it on me.”
“I want you to stop seeing that guy—Jisung, I mean..” You were expecting a lot of things, but not that. Especially not that. Hence the look of disbelief displayed in your face, eyes open like saucers. “ It’s for your own good, Y/N. There is no good coming out of hanging out with that guy. I know it’s not easy—I won’t force you all at once. So by the end of our fake relationship, I want you to completely stop everything. If he still insists on seeing you, or anything harmful to you, you put a 50 meters restriction on him, throw him into a jail or anything. You have to stop seeing this guy.”
You look at his challenging gaze, and seeing his expression you know his mind is already made. There are no other options besides take it or leave it. “But you are doing it for me. Don’t you want to ask anything? Other than that?”
He firmly shakes his head. “Nope. That alone would be a very great satisfaction on my part.”
“Serious? You don’t want anything else?” You ask one more time. “Just making sure you are getting the best out of this deal, since it won’t happen ever again.”
“Yup. And maybe if you insist, you can bring me breakfast or lunch too. That would be convenient since I tend to forget them.” He is joking, but you nod in all sincerity. You know how much you really need to do this, your parents have been struggling a lot—more or less you take a huge role in that, so at least you want to repay them even with a smooth, hopefully foolproof lie. “Your grandma must be a good cook; I tasted it a bit before and it’s heavenly. Maybe you can pack some of her dishes for me too.”
You nod. “She is. So… This means you in?”
Taehyung nods, with evident doubt still painted across his face. “Maybe. What does this exactly entail?”
“The regular, 1980 primitive relationships? No ass grabbing, no any mention of sexual things, no funny business. This needs to be very, very likable to my parents. You need to show you are the committed type that can only love one person and one person only, fall in love hard or that type of romcom bullshit.”
“Wow, so you are asking me to be the exact opposite of me, then. Did you just roast me, Y/N?” You giggle and nod—Taehyung might be a jerk but he is not a fool. Seeing your mischievous expression, he pinches your cheek with a scrunched lips. “I see. So no ass grabbing, no mention of sexual things and funny business—it’s only when your parents are around, right?”
It’s now your turn to glare. “I’m kidding. I’ll wait until you ask it yourself.” He winks, and you roll your eyes. Same old, fuckboy Taehyung. Will he be able to pull the act off is beyond you. “Anything else? Should I take you from home everyday, or domestic bullshit like that too?”
“Not really, but maybe once or twice per week? We can grab food on the way home if you want to. And Friday or Saturday nights too—but only if you don’t have any party to attend. If you have no worries, i’ll just make up some lies.”
“It’s okay. I’ll take you out on those days.” He nonchalantly nods, like he just did not imply about giving up his parties and fuckboy activities for you. It is quite a surprise—you expect him to immediately refuse everything involving those holy days, and it sends an anonymous feeling right through your heart.
“Beside, it will be just a month right? I’ll be okay missing a party or two.”
You clear your throat, looking down in faint disappointment. What were you thinking, seriously? Did you somehow expect him to sacrifice that much to mere, old you? He is a saint to even want to spend his friday night eating junk food with you rather than partying with those porcelain pretty girls on his side. “Sure.”
Another ten minutes spent just enjoying the silence with other Bee Gees songs playing in the background, and Taehyung breaks the silence. “So, if in case I refuse this. What would you do then?”
You purse your lips in contemplation since you haven’t even thought that far. What if Taehyung refuses? “I don’t know, haven’t thought that far. Ask Hoseok, maybe? He is polite, nice, cute too. My parents would be impressed.”
Taehyung snorts, a hint of dislike palpable across his beautiful features at your mention of his frat buddy, the one you acquainted to. “Wow. Just a few minutes into this fake relationship and you are already comparing your fake boyfriend to someone else. What a nice fake girlfriend you are.”
You fold your arms in front of your chest in irritation. “Hey, I just say what I think is right! You cannot lie that Hoseok indeed looks fine and cute, he is well-mannered too. And the fuck, why are you so self-centered? I am not saying it to make you jealous, you—”
At your last sentence words, Taehyung suddenly hits break, abruptly stopping his Cecil from moving; your head almost strikes the dashboard if it weren’t for his arms holding you still. You are about to curse him, right before you can see the dangerous, cocky smirk formed on his lips, then the alarm inside your head goes off, all words are dead on your tongue.
“A little bit you should know about your fake boyfriend, Y/N. I am very, very territorial. A word of advice? Never test it for yourself.”
*
So come the first day your plan of faking your relationship in front of your family. It is Monday morning, both you and Taehyung have an 8am class. Regardless of the inconvenient of waking up, it is simultaneously the perfect time to fake those lovey dovey teeth-rotting routines in front of your parents and quickly excuse yourself with attending an early class as a reason. So that’s how you force yourself up a half an hour earlier than usual—since you always woke up at 7.30 for an 8 am class—put an effort to present yourself better. You know your mother wakes up early every morning, so you purposefully blow your hair with your loud ass hair dryer to invite her in and ask why the hell are slobs like you doing up so loud at 6am in the morning.
“Nothing, Taehyung is actually picking me up this morning, so I just.. I just want to prepare early.” You fake a shy smile, and that’s how your irritated mother goes 180 degree changes and help you decide on what you should wear—a blue sundress that sits on your knees, along with a matching navy dress shoes, which is kinda unlike you—who the fuck masochist enough to wear makeup and dress for an 8am Monday class?
And you are fidgeting on your dining room seat now, counting the seconds for Taehyung to appear and finally take you out from this hell hole called your house—your mother can’t stop gushing about you being picked up by your handsome new boyfriend. He should be here anytime now, is it possible that he bails on you the second he really needs to execute the plan?
Few minutes go by and you are this close to leaving by yourself, and the familiar car engine sound is heard and you instinctively look out the window. It’s Cecil—god, you are even addressing Taehyung’s dead stuff with names too now—parked in front of your lawn, you can hardly believe it really is him. You swiftly stand up, hearts pounding a bit with your mind turning hazy. You are seriously going to do this—you are faking a relationship with Taehyung. The Kim Taehyung. You are seriously fucked.
“It’s your boyfriend! Invite him in for breakfast, Y/N!” Your mother giggles, and you answer with a wholehearted shake of head, internally cringing of the image. You are a genius for thinking every possible risk beforehand.
“No, mom. We have an 8am. I packed lunch too, we are going to eat it later, it’s okay.” You answer her hastily, securing your bag on your shoulder before walking out to open the gate for him. You can feel the cold sweat perspiring—there is no doubt your relatives are now scrutinizing every movement of your being. At the thought of being caught, you can’t even breathe normally, too wasteful of the air around you.
Yet when you open the gate and see Taehyung on the other side, smiling warmly at you, your heart literally skips a beat. You cannot believe it is really him, wearing a flannel shirt and black jeans, a bucket of purple rose on his hand. His black gleaming hair is neatly styled sideways, displaying a hint of his forehead. He simply looks… breathtaking. Is it really him, standing in front of you right now? Are you hallucinating?
“Good morning. You look beautiful today.” He greets with a compliment you never thought you will ever hear coming from him—or anyone the first thing in the morning, along with a charming smile that somehow brighten your vision.
“Thank.. you? And good morning to you too..” You whisper breathlessly, still in haze of the fact that he is here, standing in front of you.
“I brought you flowers.” He says, handing over the flowers to you. You receive it with vivid hesitation, looking down in shock while he continues, still with the same smile. “Should I hug you now?”
“W-what?”
But before you can even respond, Taehyung quickly holds you by the waist, pulling you close inside his arm, resting his chin on your shoulder. Your head is literally spinning—the warmth radiating from his body resulting in a strange emotion, but it was gone before you can even realize. “Let’s greet your parents, and then we can go? Are you okay with that?”
Still in a daze, you are only able to muster a nod as an answer. Taehyung just now, this is not the Taehyung you remember—the despicable fuckboy that doesn’t give a shit about anything and anyone, and is always looking only for short fun and severely allergic to any sort of attachment. And those eyes looking out for you and those acts he put up, you don’t know it’s just you or there is literally something so deep about it. Like he is not doing this just for charity and help you—but because somehow he really wants to. Are you that delusional?
So after saying goodbye to your parents still with not much words coming out from you—Taehyung mostly does the small talks and excuses for the both of you, you are now seated inside his car. “Hey. Are you okay? Did I do something wrong?” He suddenly asks, gazing intently at you with mild concern on his face. “I mean.. you are kinda silent. Is there—“
You are quick to rebut. “Nothing! Nothing’s wrong, I am just.. shocked. That’s all.”
He raised his left eyebrow. “Why?”
“I mean—I mostly did not expect you’d be this dedicated. You wear flannels, jeans, style your hair nicely when I know the most decent thing you wore could be your celine overpriced shirt and loose trousers. You even bought flowers! How can I not be shocked?” You nearly yell in defense, and Taehyung smiles at your amusing reaction.
“What can I say? I am a very, very dedicated person in whatever I do.” He cockily responds, and you scoff.
“Pssh—Tell that to your studies.”
He gasps in shock at your insult. “I get results! And I don’t wanna brag, but I literally watched three rom coms yesterday just to get into character. You have to applaud me for my effort.”
You peer at him—like all the changes he did isn’t weird enough. “Why?”
“Just because. This is the stepping stone of my acting gigs, I might offer fake boyfriend service after this. I really need to buy those McDonalds nuggets again.” You sigh, remembering a few days ago when Taehyung tasted your nuggets—not an euphemism—for the first time and literally ordered another five portions just for himself. Well, not like he can’t easily buy shares of McDonalds if he wants to.
Five minutes in silence, before Taehyung carefully brushes your arm with his own, somehow affectionately. “Regardless of this being faked whatsoever, I really do think you look beautiful today. You always look beautiful—but that dress outstandingly looks good on you.” He breathily compliments with a shy smile. You literally were expecting that flirty, mischievous eyes glint your way, so you can disregard it easily with Taehyung being a horny dog, but all you can detect from him is sincerity and you are silenced. It was like he wasn’t complimenting you just because of anything, other than his own will. And you do not know how to reply—you are not mentally prepared for that kind of sincere reaction coming from that renowned fuckboy.
“All jokes aside—I really think we pulled it off.” He giggles in delight. “You got nothing to worry about, sweetheart. I positively think they are charmed.”
A little voice inside you tells you that your parents are not the only one charmed, but you forcefully bury the thoughts away, throwing your gaze outside the window.
*
Few days passed without a hitch, and you can proudly proclaim everything went smoothly. Taehyung did offer to pick you up every morning, but it did not even make sense with your different schedules and the fact that he literally lives inside the university area with his frat. During those five days, you could easily reason with your parents about Taehyung’s whereabouts, saying he is busy but you explain that you meet him everyday for lunch. You are not fully lying though—you always deliver the food you promised, but whenever you do, you give it in a secluded area, and quickly leave as not to be catched by anyone.
It’s not that Taehyung really asks to keep it under the table—but you just assume that it would be really awkward for the both of you if you were to be caught by someone. You know how fast the news would travel, saying that your college resident's most favorite fuckboy—especially after Jeon Jungkook's retirement—has a complicated relationship with a very plain girl such as you. It would be a shame for him, and you don’t really need another reminder about how undeserving you are to par with him.
Friday night it is, and you have been held hostage since afternoon until now, exactly 11pm by the team task paper you will be submitting Monday, along with Jinyoung who is your teammate and shares the class with you. Library closes at 6pm, so both of you continue on it, working alongside on the desk outside the library. Regardless of the short time knowing each other, you are glad to be partnered up with him—he is very thoughtful, smart, kind and easy to talk to. You are most definitely not complaining.
“We did it. I can’t believe we did it.” You whispers, faking sobs about how glad you are while typing soundly the last paragraph on your paper. Jinyoung chuckles, having a deep breath of gladness that everything has finally come to an end. It was clear that he has something on his mind—could probably due to the fact that his phone has been blowing up for the hundredth time already just in a span of an hour. You are surprised he even stayed this long—his part is already completed two hours ago yet he still insists that the call is nothing important, and he’d be okay helping you with the part you completely need help on, no matter how many times you ask him you’d be doing fine on your own.
Your phone suddenly rings, signaling an incoming message, so you check it with a quick glance. It was from Taehyung��but then you roll your eyes and continue whatever you were doing with no further thoughts whatsoever.
From : Taehyung
Hey, where are you? Come to the frat house, we are having a party babe xx
“So, where are you heading to? It’s Friday night, are you going out? Or to a party?” You nonchalantly ask, closing your laptop while gathering your things. He nods, typing something on his phone and gives you a short smile.
“Yup. My girlfriend has been asking for awhile.” He says like it’s nothing, and your jaw nearly drops. It’s his girlfriend, calling him like there’s no tomorrow? And he just ignored her for the sake of doing a task with you? Talk about dedication to education—but you suddenly feel the overwhelming guilt. It’s not like you can’t do it tomorrow, but you are a perfectionist and just prefer anything to be completed asap before your over-glorified weekend.
“You should’ve told me! I would be totally okay if you left first, there is no biggie. Besides, there is still time tomorrow to do it.” You desperately explain where you are coming. Jinyoung is kind, but it was unnecessary. “Now I feel guilty.”
“It’s no biggies! I do agree with you, I don’t want to hold it until yesterday. I also have something important I have to do.” Jinyoung assures, but you still feel not good about taking his Friday night out with the girlfriend for your silly ambition. “I.. I kinda have something in my mind. I know we just met—but do you wanna hear me out?”
You easily agree, and Jinyoung vigorously reaches out for something inside his pocket, and shows a red velveteen, small rectangular box. The gasp was inevitable—never in a million years would you ever guess it would be that. “Is.. is this an engagement ring?”
“Yes! Yes. I am going to propose to my girlfriend tomorrow.” He says, eyes sparkling with excitement and nerves. Seeing how sincere he is brought a lump in your throat. “I know it is early—everyone tells me I’m too young and whatever. But I’ve been with her since we were in middle school, and I just don’t think I want to be with anyone else. I am not usually that naive, courageous person to begin with, but I have never been more sure about anything like this.” He whispers, an evident edge is heard on his last word. “I.. I just want you to give me another perspective. Or not—if you are uncomfortable, but I just.. I am just curious. What do you think?”
“Wow. That’s a lot to process.” You whisper with a nervous chuckle. You don’t even know what you are thinking—too much is happening inside your mind and you have a hard time to process and make out something of it. “I think it’s amazing. And you know this girl for a longtime now, it’s a very beautiful thing and… I think you should go for it.”
“Really? You think so?” Jinyoung asks, kind of not believing his own hearing. “You are actually the first one to support me. Not even my parents do.”
“I think the world has been too skeptical of love.” You whisper, the lump is getting evident and it is hard to even speak. “I know that there may be a hundred case of failed relationships out there—and people tend to assume everything will follow those majority cases. Even those pessimistic minds could even lead to more failure, you know? There’s nothing good that comes out with anyone tends to overthink so many things.”
“But anyone still cannot deny the fact that there are two happy relationships that go against those hundreds. The chance might be small, but there still is. And if those years together makes you willing to put everything on the line and take the chance, I think you should propose..” One thing that you are sure of is that each word said you are no longer talking to Jinyoung, but yourself. It is to address your recent trait, about how sceptical you have been about having a real, sincere relationship with someone and always settle for less or good enough.
Well it's true. You heard and experienced these people around you, all the struggles, ruined relationships, especially the obnoxious men you had relationships with, have made you greatly cryptic of ever finding a love that lasts. You never thought it would be that hard to face one cold truth—maybe it’s you that really needs to start finding it with the ones that have the chance to have that with you. Instead of spending it for someone that only is looking for short fun, using you only for your body and leaving the moment he’s had enough.
“Thank you for that.” He mutters, the eyes filled with emotions yet his face lightens after hearing your encouraging words. “Exactly what I need to hear.”
Both of you are now standing on the busy street. “You wanna go home? Let me take you back.” Jinyoung kindly offers, and you couldn’t even hold back the snicker.
“It’s okay. Your soon-to-be wife is waiting.” You mum with a wide smile, even with a hint of sadness that you cannot suppress. You reach out to squeeze him in a short hug. “Good luck, Jinyoung. Wishing the best for you and her.”
After saying goodbye, you walk in the opposite directions of him, wandering with no exact destination. You don’t know what exactly happened to your lively mood, now completely blue and somber. What is it that makes you feel like you are now at the lowest point of your life? Is it possible that you just realized how far you have strayed from the person you wish to be, and now you are desperate to do something and rearrange your life back to the way it should be?
It’s quite depressing to know that there is the ideal life you have been planning and craving for a long time now, but one day you wake up and find you are heading the complete opposite direction and already strayed too far.
Your phone is ringing again, and you can just know it is Taehyung on the other side. He could be the last person you want to see now, but you are desperate to just answer and make him stop. You are most definitely not in the mood to talk with his annoying, pesky ass.
“Taehyung—”
“Y/N, where are you?! I asked your mother since you are not replying and she told me you haven’t come back home.” He shouts in discernible concern and worry with a faint music beat heard in the background—he must be still at the party, since 12am is still too early for these people to head back home, on the way of bad drunken state to the point of throwing up on the streets. If that so, why would he still be contacting you now ever since hours ago? If you are an idiot, you would let yourself believe he really is worried about you. And since when is he on talking basis with your mother? “Why are you not answering, Y/N?! Are you—”
“No, I am not.” You answer tiredly, knowing precisely that he is referring to Jisung’s place. You don’t want to debate him, all you want at the moment to be is alone and cry to your heart content. “I am just.. here. I am going home now, no worries.”
A good minute of silence. “Ah, you’re going home. Okay, good.” He still hesitates. “Text me when you are home.”
“I will. Bye, Taehyung.”
You are about to press the red button on your phone when the booming voice of him is heard. “No! Wait. This party is boring, I wanna leave. Let me take you home.”
“Taehyung, I am in no way in the mood of dealing with your shit right now.” You curtly sigh, massaging your temple in distress. This persistent boy is surely a pain in the ass. “Talk to me tomorrow.”
Taehyung suddenly lowers his voice to the point of whispering, could probably detect how out of the character you are right now. “Hey, are you okay, sweetheart? You sound sad.”
You are about to say you’re okay, but your head is too heavy with emotions and even lying about being okay stress you out. “I am not. I am not fucking okay. I could arguably be at the worst point of my life. So can you leave me alone?”
“I know where you are. Stay there, I am coming.”
You don’t even know why, or how, or when Taehyung is coming, yet you obliged to his request. Because you don’t know what else to do, or where to go, and even believing in his almost unbelievable request seems appealing to you right now. All because you want to know if he’ll come through or not. That’s how you settle on sitting in front of a closed ice cream shop, holding your legs closer to your chest, your mind wandering to the things you can’t even point out.
Yet against all odds, in just ten minutes of waiting you can detect the black Audi stopping on the side of the street, with Taehyung walking out of it and on your way. You quickly stand up, erasing the remnants of tears on both your sticky cheeks before Taehyung crushes to you, engulfing you inside his arms. His palms caressing the top of your hair, nose buried in your hair, all for you can somehow feel better.
“Why are you sad, Y/N? Something bad happened?” He questions slowly and carefully.
“Yup. Life happened.” You nod, your finger hesitantly intending to reciprocate his hug but you refrain to doing so. There is no good in doing that anymore, especially now. “Everything just.. sucks.”
Taehyung giggles breathily at your sentence, ironically finding mirth in your words. His two thumbs at the either side of your eyes, wiping the leftover tears. “Isn’t that my daily thoughts. Let me take you home, and we can talk on the way?”
On the way to his car, Taehyung securely places his arm around you, squeezing you close to his side before opening the door for you. And before the car is about to move, he ensures your seat belt is strapped and secured well, while all you can do is to stare at him, wondering what the hell is he thinking for doing all these way-over-affectionate acts to you with no surveillance of your parents.
The words that are directed to ask about the fuck did he mean with all these things are already in the tip of your tongue, but you decide against it. It would be very awkward and presumptuous for you to assume that someone who is literally allergic to relationships is doing that because he has certain feelings for you. Or maybe because you are too scared to find out and get hurt in the end.
“How did you know I’m here?” You question aloofly and he smile.
“Besides being a genius with such great sense? Yup, I heard the ice cream shop advertisement songs when I called you.” He proudly sing-songs like it’s his proudest achievement. You snort, realizing that you indeed a dumb.
“So, what did you do before? I thought you had something to work on.” He casually asks while stealing glances at you, noting your deep silence. “Did you finish your paper?”
“Yeah.” You simply nod, trying to focus on anything else other than looking sideways, to him. “You? Got bored at the party? No girls interesting enough to fuck tonight?”
Taehyung hums in grief, and the coldness washing over your heart is greatly detectable. “Yup. The drink is so-so, the music is boring, the people are boring. You’d start thinking that this party is just too repetitive, you know?” You think you sincerely wished the bitterness on your tone were undetectable, but the fact that Taehyung is utterly insensitive by your sarcastic question bothers you a lot. God, you are such a mess. “So, now that your paper is done, are you busy? We can talk. Or go somewhere else you’d like?”
You look at him, finding the flirty, mischievous smile plastered on his face, but it only adds the feeling of nausea inside your chest. “Do you know Jinyoung? I think he is from engineering too.”
Taehyung nods, a tad bit surprised at your sudden change of topic, yet you continue. “He is my task mate for this paper. And wow… I am really amazed at him.”
“Amazed? Why?”
“So he told me he will propose to his girlfriend tomorrow.” You explain, trying to sound nonchalant. “It’s just amazing, I think. How can someone be sure to marry someone else at such an early age, that he will stay true to just one person and one person only for the rest of his life?”
“What—Seriously? There is still people as naive as that?” Taehyung snickers, and you could feel your heart drop at his vivid disdain at the mention of serious relationship. “Come on, it's the 21st century. People really think anyone can be chained into a monogamous relationship for the rest of their lives? Grow up.”
“He has been in a relationship with her since middle school.”
Taehyung’s eyes are wide as saucers. “And still wanna go through with that? I can see why you said it’s amazing, Y/N.”
“I think alike too.” You curtly sneer, folding your arm on your chest. “He asked me what I thought about it and I encouraged him to go ahead and propose. And do you wanna know why I am sad? Because I’m jealous, Taehyung. Along the way, I have turned too skeptical of love and started losing faith that I’ll have someone like that too. Too tired of actually thinking about who I should date and instead settle for undeserving men. I hate it.”
“Y/N, trust me. I know how men think, especially all these boys. It’s easy to think you can tie them up into a relationship, but it’s like.. a timer, waiting to blow off.” Taehyung stubbornly explains like love is a disease—just the way you expect him to. “It’s like you are waiting for the heartbreak. Please don’t be naive like that.”
“So what if I try and I fail?” The frustration is clear in your tone, irritated that Taehyung exactly sounds like a parent telling their kid Santa doesn’t exist. “That doesn’t mean I’m naive. At least I’m a step closer to finding sincere love, not like you fuckboys that are allergic to have a mutual love and respectful relationship.”
“Y/N, when you are a child of divorce, it is hard to believe that love does exist.” Taehyung intently stares at you, before letting go the breath he has been holding. “It’s not entirely impossible, I know there are some happy marriages too. But how can you guarantee you’re that lucky 1% with the compassionate, dreamy, lovey dovey monogamous relationship you have been worshipping about? It’s unrealistic—and doesn’t make sense.”
“But how can I know if I don’t try?!” You ruffle your hair in frustration, face reddening in anger. “I’d rather try and fail rather than not do anything at all. But you know what? I have no one to blame but myself. I am the one thinking that I might find love in college, filled with pubescent fuckboys. You are right, Taehyung. I should have known in the first place. I have to avoid you—exactly boys like you.”
Taehyung reaches out to you with his right hand, sadness and panic coloring his face. “Hey—hey. I am sorry, Y/N. Please, please don’t be like this. I overstepped it, I know. I—you’ll find it. You’ll love someone that truly loves you too. Don’t be like this, okay? I am sorry.”
Realizing that you have not replied since the fight occurred few minutes ago, Taehyung stops his car on the side of the street, just a few metres from your house. He is now facing you, holding your hand while brushing it against his thumb in regret.
“I am sorry. I was wrong, it... it wasn’t my place to be judgmental about your life choices.” Taehyung is quick to apologize, his large eyes showing nothing but genuineness. “I am just.. Sad. I am sad. You know why Y/N?”
You still are not looking at him, but he continues, even with constricted throat. He is too desperate. “Because I care about you. Seeing you cry, it’s like seeing myself too. I feel awful whenever I see you cry, I think even worse than my own. And the thought of someone breaking your heart? I don’t want to imagine that.” Taehyung whispers, shifting you to face him, eyes locking with a splash of anguish while your heart pounds fast until you can hear it echoes in your ear.
“I have opened myself to you more than anyone else, and I’d like to think you do likewise. I am comfortable talking to you, and for you to talk to me as well. And to imagine that you have someone else that you will go to whenever you are happy, or sad, or in need of a mere hug—it’s just… it’s making me feel lonely and sad.” The smile on his lips is now painted with a hint of sadness, eyes looking down to his lap.
“These few weeks with you.. I feel good. I finally, finally feel good about myself, like I’m not alone again. You make me kind of want to protect myself instead of hurting it. That’s a first.” Taehyung shyly chuckles, scratching his nape. Your eyebrows crinkled. What does he mean by that? He likes you, but only as a friend? Do you even want to find out and voluntarily get hurt?
“I just… Can I be selfish, Y/N? At least until you find someone deserving of all your love and attention?”
Instead of answering, you shut him with softly embracing his lips with your own. It doesn’t even need a mere second for Taehyung to respond, his arms are swift in supporting you by the waist, both your arms are secured around his neck. His lips are warm, fluff, and taste just the way you remember—like honey or great whiskey. The kiss is slow paced, nothing like your previous sexual encounters when both of you are just desperate to reach the ultimate peak, but now? You feel how much he savors every second, trying to make you as comfortable as ever with his gesture. As few seconds go by, his tongue has softly embraces yours, until you are left breathless. You softly tug his hair as he moans to the kiss, drunk with the taste of you.
At that time, you despise thinking. You despise the fact that you feel likewise. Too desperate to have him against you, to hold him close, to feel his lips, and you despise hearing the alarm screaming at the back of your head at how dangerous it is—you simply don’t want to stop. Yes, it is as easy as flipping over a hand to know that against every odd, you like him. You like Taehyung, the renowned fuckboy. And you don’t know when, or why. Maybe that one time he waited for you with no certainty and hugged you when you were having a breakdown. Or that time he listened to your story attentively and gave you an encouraging pat on the back. Or that time he picked you up, held you close, gave you flowers and kindly interacted with your parents. Or maybe all of it. You don’t know.
But then a scary realization enters you. You are just about to do it again—the thing you swear you will avoid with all you might. You settle for less. You are about to settle for Taehyung, this amazing, wonderful man who cares about you more deeply than anyone else, but will never go down that road with you. He doesn’t believe in relationships, he will never settle down and label himself for anyone. And this kiss you are sharing with him? Or the hook-ups you might just be this close of doing? That is literally driving you further inside this anonymous yet strong feeling you have for him. It’s doing you harm, and you desperately need to stop
That’s how you forcefully detach yourself for him, giving a thin, forced smile and mutter your goodbye whilst exiting his car. You quickly run to your house without even once looking back, closing the gate behind you while desperately looking up to avoid the tears from raining down on your cheek.
Yes, at least you tried, and now you know. It’s not Taehyung—it will never be him.
===================
You are correct, there is a second part to this that i’ll hopefully post soon! I really hope you like it, and please leave a message in comment and ask box, it would help a lot! thank you for reading, lovelies~
UPDATED : The Platinum Rules (Finale) : Click Here!
#taehyung#taehyung au#taehyung angst#taehyung fluff#bts au#bts fluff#bts angst#bts fuckboy#taehyung fuckboy#bts fake relationship
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