#like. they’re kids. in a show. where we won’t always get to see every single minute of them interacting | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

loveabledirtbag · 7 months

Text

1.07 - The Review

the day has come. this episode. ufffffffff. this episode. it’s all been leading here. i always knew that it would end this way.

before we even begin, i just gotta say….this episode is so much. it’s so odd how much i love it, because i think it was one of the first times i’d ever felt seen in the service industry. something just happens when you work in the service industry long enough where every single thing that COULD go wrong, DOES go wrong. and for some reason there’s never a FUCKING MARKER THAT FUCKING WORKS.

i’m probably gonna say a lot that pisses people off, and i’m gonna do my best to make sure everyone is pissed off evenly. because i got some hot takes in my watch of this, but i hope you all find it nuanced and detailed enough that maybe there’s stuff in here for everyone to take something away from it. maybe the true traumatic working experience was the friends we made along the way…

LETS DIVE IN

that intro to the episode though! i remember watching for the first time and just being so thrown off guard. why are we getting this semi-old-school tv intro? we get opening credits, we’re seeing everyone coming into work. it’s just so GOOD! because we the audience are just as lost as the characters are. we’re sorta thrown for a loop, with an opening that honestly feels sort of familiar, just like them coming to work feels familiar. day in and day out, they do this. just like every other day. we’ve seen a million shows that show us an opening like this. but then tossing in little bits of chicago history, landmarks, and tidbits. breathing in and breathing out….chicago. all of it to signify that no one (not us, the audience. not the characters) are ready for what’s about to happen. no one knows when they’re going to experience the worst day of their life. if just happens.

uff. ebraheim’s reading of the review is so painfully good. because you can tell his enthusiasm for the review! but his less than perfect reading, on a topic that he doesn’t understand is actually creating tension, adds tension on top of tension! uff. so good.

also, what a pretentious review! my god! the dichotomy of the long haired bearded man who got syd’s dish last episode, and the privileged snobbery of a holier-than-thou reviewer makes his words even more pretentious. “oh, chicago’s changing so much, wahhh. how can we evolve and not change the core of who we are”. which, is a topic i really value, and a subject i think about a lot for my own city. but the way it comes off in this review makes me wanna go, “oh fuck off, you middle aged fuck!”

plus the fact that a lot is happening and ebra is just reading, and is told multiple times to stop, but he keeps going because he thinks he’s lifting spirits. ugh. heartbreaking.

uff. ebra won’t stop reading. tina is late. marcus is NOT doing cakes but is lost in donuts (AGAIN). they’re rolling out the new to-go systems today. a reviewer is praising syd’s dish that isn’t actually on the menu and was given to him instead of being tossed. it’s just a perfect cluster fuck of a day. and it hasn’t even began.

i’ve seen some back and forth on how weird it is that when tina introduces her son louie to the restaurant, after he got suspended, was to ask carmy to teach him how to work at a restaurant. which i don’t think is weird at all! i know a few people who’s parents worked in restaurants, or who knew of parents who worked in restaurants, and their kids basically worked lower down positions as a chore. most weren’t paid. is that illegal? yes. BUT, louie is suspended, his mom works all day, we never hear of a dad. he can’t be left home all day, and being left home all day without supervision probably wouldn’t be good for any kid, but definitely not a kid who just got suspended. there’s a tone in tina’s voice of….recognition that louie probably is going to need to learn restaurant skills because he’s most likely not going to go far in school. so it’s not the worst thing in the world. am i opposed to child labor? yes. do i think it’s the worst thing in the world that while louie is suspended he learns to work in a kitchen? no. do i think he deserves to be paid? yes. do i think he is going to be paid? really couldn’t tell ya. but i also think this is just true to a world of people in kitchens, and a real issue that parents and guardians have to deal with in regards to their kids. right or wrong isn’t really the thing to discuss here, but the authenticity of this moment in the lives of a lot of working class individuals.

i will say that carmy throwing training louie in on sydney is a little dickish. i understand there’s a lot going on, and carmy feels the weight of the lot that is going on. but syd also has a lot going on, and carmy just kind of tosses it at her. i think there’s a lot of moments people complain about carmy throwing stuff on syd’s plate. and i agree with some of it and don’t agree with others. but it could have been just a bit easier on everyone if carmy gave it to someone who had less going on than syd. give louie to sweeps and have louie do the odds and ends that need doing. you know?

UFF, that the moment we see the unhappiness on syd’s face as carmy passes louie off on her, ebra starts reading the review again. painful. just painful.

i love that tina has so quickly come to regard syd as a teacher. that she confides in syd about louie and believes in her so much that she is confident that syd can help louie the same way syd helped tina.

love the little moment of richie and carmy being on the same side on the review. just both of them going: who the fuck is this hack who thinks it’s endearing to call us shabby, as if we’re this quaint little hayseed restaurant. the little engine that could. fuck him! i love those small moments when carmy and richie are so clearly family and grew up together and even as they have the most intense fights together slip right into agreement. because the love is never in question. fight, don’t fight. eh, it’s family.

ufffff, but the fact that richie is just that little extra bit annoying to syd. all the bad things adding together, before the real horse-shit has even happened. it’s just all painful. but like, asking her if she’s blowing someone at the newspaper is a step above anything we’ve seen him say to syd. and syd is just fucking over it, because she’s got enough shit going on. and then his repeatedly calling her boss, subtly rubbing it in, poking at the idea that she’s trying to take over. FUCK. it hurts so good

especially watching it again and knowing it’s coming. because so far if you’re watching for the first time you don’t know what’s coming. you might have picked up the one take, you might notice that while the episode hasn’t been break-neck intensity like some of the first episodes, there’s just this….growing sense of unease. you can almost feel that something is coming, but you don’t know what it is yet.

i love as carmy is getting the count for the day: “richie, go fuck yourself”, “69 all day chef!” just these small moments of humor, even if the humor is people annoying each other and also adds to the tension.

oooof, and then marcus doesn’t have the count for cakes. i just…i want to be supportive of marcus. but this is the….third? fourth time? JUST IN THE SHOW that we’ve seen someone go “dude, come on. you can do donuts, but you HAVE to do your actual job.” like, he almost shut the shop down because he blew a fuse because he fucked up. like, that wasn’t a wake up call? i love his dream, and i want him to chase his dream, but being an adult, especially an adult who’s working a job to support his mom, at a restaurant that is trying to claw its way back from the brink of financial ruin….you can’t fuck around! or you find out.

i love the moment where sydney chooses NOT to get into it with richie. because she’s teaching louie the register. which is, arguably, the easiest thing to learn. the nuance and finesse of it is, without question, something not everyone can do. we see that as the show progresses, and we’ve seen it already. richie has a way with people that is his gift. but the actual act of being on register is extremely easy. and it’s obvious why syd would bring him to the register, but richie comes up and shoo’s them away acting like his job is too much for louie. and syd just bounces to the next thing, and chooses not to get into with him. it’s not worth starting a thing by telling richie his job is not that hard. AND she does the right thing of asking sweeps to take louie, keep working, while she goes over the new to-go system with richie. because she has a lot to do, and can’t be stuck watching a kid.

and then the fact that as richie pushes syd’s buttons about getting her dish in the paper, suddenly she snaps. richie is getting in her face about bringing in “the wrong kind of business”? as if the shop can afford to choose who’s money they take and who’s they don’t? as richie sells coke out of the back alley, and carmy is selling vintage denim just to make ends meet? and so, syd goes in for the jugular and pushes back. with a lot of bite.

i love that at some part as richie, syd, and carmy are talking, as tensions are beginning to rise as everyone is just getting mad at everyone, and BEFORE the shit hits the fan, Spiders (Kidsmoke) by Wilco starts playing. a live version that is so loud, and noisy, and ragged that it just adds to this unbelievable tension and anxiety before you even know why you should be anxious in the first place.

THE SHIT HITS: endless to-go orders. and here’s where i gotta get into this, because i think this is the precipice of a lot of dialogue and conversations and i want to weigh in. before i go ANY FURTHER i gotta just say that i LOVE carmy, and syd, and marcus a lot. i love them. and so when i criticize any of them, it’s not a black and white thing. i’m not trying to take sides and shit on one character completely (like so many people seem to do).

carmy owns the beef. he’s working to try and get the shop out of a hole and build it up to a place where it’s financially stable. he’s also working and trying to introduce his system to the social environment, replacing michael’s system. there has been a lot of chaos, a lot of pushback and a lot of work. he has hired sydney to be his number two. sydney has been the one pushing for to-go’s for EPISODES. and while it’s not like sydney doesn’t have a lot going on, to-go’s has been her fight for a while. even in a previous episode carmy said “we just got it to kind of a chill place, there’s more to do but this is nice and i want to keep it here for a bit” in response to syd pushing to-go’s. so it’s not unreasonable of him to have said to her at some point, “if you wanna do to-go’s, can you be in charge of it?”. i’ve seen so many people shitting on carmy for being a bad boss for not checking on syd’s work, and to me it’s like…he trusts her enough that if she says she’s going to do something, he trusts it’ll be done. how many of us like it when our boss hovers over our shoulder watching everything we do? none of us! i think it makes perfect sense that carmy gave to-go’s to sydney, who’s been asking for them for weeks, if not months, and if he gave her the freedom and the trust to do it herself, since she has continually proven herself as trustworthy, AND as someone who has continually asked for leadership roles. could he have checked in, or double checked that she did everything right, and made sure she didn’t accidentally leave to-go’s on overnight? of course, and i will fault him for that. but we’ve also seen that he’s incredibly busy, and he trusts syd, so that small mistake is not nearly as bad as the people calling carmy a horrible boss want to make him out to be.

plus, it’s weird that the people who seem to shit on carmy as a horrible boss for this moment seem to also think syd is perfect? like it’s carmy’s fault that syd didn’t double check if she turned off the to-go’s overnight? idk, there’s a logical fallacy in how so many people talk about this moment.

but the point of all of this is for me to say, neither of them are horrible! sydney made an innocent mistake! like, a mistake that FUCKED the restaurant, but an easy one to make. maybe she fully forgot to click the off button, maybe she clicked the screen and it didn’t register her finger and she didn’t notice and assumed it hit off? who knows. new technology is weird. it’s hard. and it doesn’t make sydney a shitty person for messing up, nor does it make carmy a shitty person for not catching the mistake himself.

and yes, the fact that as carmy is focusing on the mess of having HUNDREDS of orders (more than they have of any menu item in the shop), that he also stops and says: “i told you that dish wasn’t fuckin’ ready” shows that some of his anger is at syd for having a successful dish. so, yes, it’s misplaced anger, and he needs to work on that. and when syd asks “what does that have to do with this?” and he yells at her to stop talking so he can figure it out, it’s because he knows he was just caught being a baby, and being angry at the wrong thing and not wanting to be confronted with it. he has trouble processing his emotions, and dealing with them, and it comes out in anger and he needs to work on that!

because i think there’s a mix of things happening with carmy and that dish, and syd. i think he struggles not to see her as competition, even as her boss. he says in the next episode that even as the sou at his restaurant, when anyone new would come in he would have the desire and urge to “smoke that motherfucker” because they were the competition, even though he was their boss. and now he’s the owner, and syd is his sou, and even though she can’t get higher without his say so, he still feels that threat of “what if she’s a better cook? what if she deserves this more than i do?”. we see him work on a lemon chicken dish, as she works on a braised short ribs and risotto. his dish makes it to menu, hers doesn’t. but the critic breezes past all the work carmy has done on making the sandwiches better, and updating the menu by saying “some small improvements” only to get it out of the way so he can talk about syd’s dish. the dish carmy said wasn’t ready yet.

and i believe it wasn’t ready, i think i’ve talked about this in a previous post. it wasn’t ready. BUT i don’t think carmy knew what it needed. he comes off as an unhelpful asshole to syd because he doesn’t want to admit that he doesn’t know what her dish needs. there’s too much pride on him being the best chef ever for him to work WITH sydney to make her dish perfect. and now it’s all biting him in the ass. he’s mad syd made the better dish, he’s mad he can’t figure out why it’s not perfect, he’s mad all the work he’s doing for the beef is not being recognized but syd’s imperfect dish is, but he’s also mad at the very real frustrations being presented with the to-go orders flying out at him endlessly, and i know, I KNOW (because of the next episode after this one) that he’s mad at himself for feeling all of this and not being able to process and handle it better. and all of that anger and frustration comes pouring out of him in a very unhealthy way.

i also think it’s lost a bit at how carmy takes a moment to think. it’s a hectic moment, and his mind is still on syd and everything else, but he takes a second and he on-the-fly creates a system to try and get everything done and help everyone accomplish the day and get through it. people are going into the walk in and pulling food, stations are being created and properly sectioned off, sweeps is organizing tickets, fak is helping, richie is helping, and carmy gives everyone a job to do. i think it’s mirrored (and mirrored in a healthy way) next season in the finale, but i want to point out that carmy is trying to get everything down and under control, he’s just doing it while screaming and letting his fury fly free on everyone around him.

OOOOOF, and syd asking marcus how he’s doing on cakes, as everyone, EVERYONE, is flying and scurrying and trying to figure out how to get on top of this cluster fuck. and marcus, in a distracted, uncaring voice says “uh, getting there”. because he’s still on donuts. i’m sorry. that’s just so fucking unbelievably not okay.

i’ve seen some people really trying to defend marcus. some even agree with him. it’s pointless to try, we’re fucked, why can’t i just keep working on donuts? BUT LIKE FOR FUCKS SAKE. as someone who used to work at mcdonald’s with no autonomy, who was hired to be some sort of drug addicts half-baked plan to have really good bread when buying bread was cheaper and easier, so your job is nearly useless and pointless. being given the freedom to focus on desserts, and spearheading a dessert on your own, AND THEN being given even more autonomy to research, and experiment, and play around to try and figure out how to make a donut, and all your bosses ask is that you do the job they’re paying you to do. you make cakes. your idea was to put cakes on the menu, we did that, so do it. do whatever else you want, but just make sure you’re doing your job. AND NOT ONLY THAT but at least four or five times in the last few weeks someone has had to say, “hey! do your job please!”, to the point where you even blew a fuse and almost shut your work down for good because you weren’t doing your job. AND NOW there’s a potentially shop ending crisis (AGAIN) and your response is “eh. it’s fucked. i’m gonna do me”. NO! i’m sorry. he doesn’t deserve carmy’s abuse, but he deserves syd’s anger and more. like, i love marcus, but that’s just not acceptable.

ok, and, here’s a place where i want to be really nuanced and try and explain something: sydney’s bouncing around trying to do a lot at once. clearly she’s stressed. BUT, carmy is also running around and trying to do a lot at once, and he’s the boss. he’s creating a system, on the fly, and when he comes to syd and sweeps organizing the tickets he tells her multiple times “step off the expo” because he’s going to do it. and she keeps arguing with him. not maliciously, but because she’s trying to explain HER system to him, but he’s already running HIS system and he doesn’t need to hear her system, he needs her to get in line and start working so they can get through the rush. every second counts and he doesn’t need to waste what precious time that they don’t even have to give to hear her reasoning for something that they’re not gonna do. i don’t want to blow past carmy’s abusive and bombastic anger, because it can’t be, nor should it be, ignored or blown past. but it’s easy to talk about it. carmy is in the wrong with HOW he reacts to the challenges of this day. he’s wrong in every single action, but i don’t think he’s wrong in the decisions he’s making to tackle it. sydney wants to break it down and try to systematically get through things, and carmy knows: we already have more to-go orders than we have food in our walk in. there is no way to systematically break it down. we just have to GO, fire everything, cook everything and see what shit we’re left with when we run out.

syd’s not in the wrong for trying to create a system to break things down and organize the chaos, but carmy is also not wrong for knowing the chaos is too big on this one and they just need to push and see where they land. and as the boss, i will say syd is in the wrong for just…not listening to him. yes, she’s trying to help, and she’s trying manage, but carmy asked her multiple times to do something and she kept not doing it. and yes, carmy is very in the wrong for how he treats EVERYONE. i’m not excusing that. it’s just wrong. but in a rush, especially one as fucked as this one is, you just gotta listen to who’s in charge and do what you can do until the rush is over. does that mean allowing yourself to be debased if your boss is being verbally abusive? FUCK NO. but in a crisis at work in the service industry, if your boss says to do something, you just gotta do it, and if it goes to shit you get the satisfaction of knowing it’s their fault. you were just following their orders. i hope this makes sense. i don’t think they should have just put up with carmy’s abuse, BUT syd’s attempt at trying to have a nuanced and reasonable discussion over how to best tackle the problem was not the time and place. in a crisis, the boss is the boss, and you just gotta go with what they say, and if possible talk about it later. but in the moment it’s do or die.

i also think there’s an interesting parallel between syd’s mistake here, and carmy’s mistake in the very first episode. both of them were trying to help the shop make more money. syd with the to-go’s, and carmy with the ballbreaker tournament. both of them are successful and bring a lot of people in. both of them realize that in the restaurant world, you can’t have explosive growth without proper preparation. because they’re not set up for it. richie tells carmy they’re not set up to deal with the influx of nerds playing games, so carm should make the spaghetti. in this episode, carm tells syd they weren’t ready for to-go’s, and it’s not helped by the good review in the newspaper that morning. more business might seem like a universal good thing, but in the restaurant biz, if too many people come than you overwork your staff, you might run out of food, wait times begin to go up as they’re working harder to accommodate for everything. and then every additional customer gets more and more upset as they have a bad time at this place. you risk losing every new customer, because they came in, and you weren’t ready for them, and they had a terrible time. and you risk losing old reliable customers because they came in and the place was crowded, and you were overwhelmed by the new influx, and they get so frustrated that they decide to never come in again. more than one restaurant has closed because they suddenly experienced an explosion they weren’t ready for, and it overwhelmed them, and then they crashed and burned.

BUT BACK TO THE SHOW: syd didn’t say corner. i’m not sure if saying it would have helped, but richie said corner, syd didn’t. but richie is also an asshole, and choosing to take that moment to push syd’s buttons more as the cakes that SO DESPERATELY need to be cut and prepped fall to the ground. fuck off richie.

tina’s moment to try and check in on syd is so sweet. mama bear gotta come in and mama bear. and that syd takes her anger out on her, and insults the beef (where tina has worked and the place tina loves) and questions what tina or louie is ever going to get out of “a shithole” like the beef is rough to watch. because it’s so clear how much tina has come to respect syd and her teaching her chef things, and for syd to just kind of spit on that, and take her anger she’s feeling at herself (for making the mistake with the to-go’s), and at carmy (for clearly being mad about the risotto and for yelling at her), and at richie (for….well, being richie. fuck richie) and to put it on tina who is only trying to make sure that syd is okay, is hard.

GET ME A FUCKING SHARPIE THAT FUCKING WORKS! FUCK! - the most relatable line i’ve ever heard to depict a shift that has turned into an absolute shit show. why can’t shop sharpies work the moment you desperately need them to?

i do love (and maybe love is the wrong word) the blink and you’ll miss it moment of tina telling carmy that they’re out of giardiniera, and him saying they’ll prep it fresh and (like always) he (without thinking) puts it on syd’s plate. which shows his trust of her. BUT also shows his willingness to brush off anything he doesn’t want to deal with on her. AND THEN, because everything is moving so fast, he calls richie into the kitchen to ask for a sharpie, and as his brain is still processing and flying through he asks him to prep the giardiniera. it’s a beautiful, and realistic, moment of television. because we’ve seen so many moments of “something i don’t want to deal with, ‘syd, you got this’”, and so carmy does that. but he doesn’t even realize he’s said it. and the problem is still on his brain, as he sees richie and asks him to fix this problem, because everyone else (including sydney) is probably dealing with the million other issues that are happening in the kitchen at that moment.

and i appreciate that as richie goes to the back to prep the giardiniera, and sydney questions what he’s doing he says “what does it look like? i’m helping you”, he honestly didn’t go back to fight. he recognizes that syd is doing something, and because he’s also been told to do something he’s hopping into “okay. so sydney’s already doing this, so then i’ll just help her.” which is, honestly, the right attitude. but sydney has already been so bashed around and is already feeling so much that she takes richie’s presence as a threat.

there’s something about the way syd lays into richie that…so supremely gets under my skin. i honestly can’t even fully explain it. she does such a good job in this moment acting out this onslaught of insults. the intense intake of breath, the bitter laughter, the just stabbing (intentional wordplay) of her words into him. ufff. i like….hate syd here, even as i think richie probably deserves it.

and i love that he takes everything she says, chooses not to engage until she insults his daughter. WHICH IS FAIR, syd went WAY TOO FUCKING FAR with that one. because we know he feels like a loser. his ex wife has him as richie bad news, his daughter wonders if that’s his real name, he brags about drunken nights and mornings at bars to dates and doesn’t realize why that doesn’t impress them, and then lies to his coworkers about it, blaming her. he knows that he’s a loser. but he knows that his daughter is the one good thing he ever did, and he doesn’t want his daughter to think of him as a loser.

and again, carmy comes in as they’re fighting, even as syd is brandishing a chefs night, literally TOUCHING it to richie’s stomach, as she says “maybe i will fucking stab you”, and he screams at them to shut up and get to work. which, once again, is the right call, just enacted terribly. because yes, they need to stop and just get the work done, but his screaming at them isn’t going to help calm them down. but also, like….when people are brandishing knives at other employees, maybe you got bigger fish to fry, carm.

uuuuuuuuuuufffffda. the fact that after all this time. ALL THIS TIME. as everyone is having the worst day in the kitchen they’ve ever had. arguably, the worst day in the kitchen anyone COULD HAVE, that marcus goes up to carmy with a DONUT and is smiling, like, “look! i did it!” FUCK OFF.

and no, carmy freaking out, grabbing marcus’ face, grabbing his donut and throwing it on the floor is not okay. that is abuse. it just is. arguably, actionable abuse. marcus was…partially right for leaving after carmy did that to him. that was absolutely, unequivocally, not okay for carmy to do. but….marcus…..the fuck dude. this is like the fifth or sixth time someone has had to do say to you “the fuck? do your fucking job.” in this episode alone this would have been like a “third warning” in a day. marcus deserves to be fired, or sent home for the day, or written up, or some form of punished for this. because in a 20 minute, in real time, no cuts scene, this is literally the third time marcus has chosen not to do his job, not to get back to work, but not even to help anyone else out around the kitchen as they all are struggling and hustling and just trying to make it work. like, it’s not only disrespectful to the restaurant that it trying desperately not to close, it’s not only disrespectful to carmy who has literally given you every opportunity to chase after your dreams and been way more than understanding when your dreams have gotten in the way of your duties in the kitchen, but it’s so fucking disrespectful to every single person in that kitchen who is struggling and fighting tooth and nail to get things in order and make it work so that they still have jobs next week. like, marcus, your mom is sick (spoilers), tina has a son, richie has a daughter, you all need to pay rent, buy food. you’re threatening seven people’s livelihoods because you want to make a “perfect donut”? no, i’m sorry, get the fuck out of the kitchen and come back when you’re ready to be an adult who can multitask and prioritize doing his job, and doing the fun stuff only after everything else is done. (again, carmy’s reaction is fully wrong and i do not support it, though! toxic, angry, abusive. not okay).

but because of carmy’s abuse, marcus chooses to leave during the middle of the shift, and again, kind of leaves everyone in the lurch to try and figure the shit out and pick up the pieces. and….im not fully sure how i feel. i believe in removing yourself from abusive situations. and carmy is being abusive. and i also don’t believe in staying in an abusive situation for the sake of other people, because you have to take care of yourself first. but….carmy is not normally abusive like this. i know a lot of people like to say that he is, but so far in the series, he has only ever raised his voice to speak over others, and has almost never (if ever) been confrontationally abusive to anyone. other than maybe richie, and that’s giving as good as he’s getting, to someone who is in his family. i’m not trying to excuse abuse to a family member, but it’s much more of a feel of “richie is my cousin, i can speak differently than i would to the others who are my employees”. his meanness to richie is more of a informal familiarity, more than it’s abusive. this is really the first time we’ve seen carmy choosing to be loud, angry, AND attack others directly with his words. he has been confrontational, he has been loud, he has been angry, but he’s never been all of them, as he’s attacked those around him. so, all of that to say….the fact that carmy is like this for the first time is shocking, and it adds more believability for why marcus (and eventually syd) leave. it’s shocking. but i also can’t help but think of everyone else that marcus is fucking over by leaving the very first time carmy does something wrong to him. you know? and maybe i’m wrong! maybe i’m not reading past experiences and conversations and interactions correctly! if i am, let me know! but, every time i see marcus throw his tray of donuts on the table and take off his apron and walk out, i can’t help but think “really? you fucked up so many times, you were told to do your jobs so many times, and now you’re choosing to pack up and go home??? you’re fucking people over and forcing syd to do your job for you, while she does a million other things, and you think you get to go home as the morally superior one? fuck off”.

and again, i love marcus. i think he’s got so much heart and is arguably the heartfelt anchor of this shows. but he’s human and the writers do a great job of writing him as a human, and he does a great job acting as a fully fledged human. but as a human, he has made a lot of mistakes the last few episodes.

AND THEN SYD STABS RICHIE IN THE ASS!!!! quasi-on purpose, quasi-accidental. i mean. watch in slow-mo as richie backs up into syd’s knife. its so quick, and syd was looking over at carmy shouting, and richie was backing up. like…it WAS an accident. buttttttttt…..was it?

the fact that richie immediately upon getting stabbed walks it off, and is like “ebra, come on. i got stabbed.” and ebra also immediately follows richie to sew up his ass. what friendship. and what history does it spell out for richie and ebra, both? like richie is just like “ope. stabbed. okay, i’ll deal with this now.” and ebra is like “you’re stabbed? okay, let me get my stuff.”

“not right now, i got stabbed” “you probably fucking deserved it” “mm….m-maybe, maybe.” is such a good back and forth between carmy and richie.

i also think it’s interesting that as carmy walks out to the front of the shop to check on louie and sweeps, while richie is at the front of the bar for ebra to check out his ass wound, carmy asks louie and sweeps how their job is going, and they respond that they’re working on it, and carmy says “thank you, chef. keep going please.” very calm. very collected. i wonder if this was voice over, and just sort of overlooked, or if it was a conscious decision of carmy being calm and responsive in a moment during the chaos? because since shit has hit the fan he’s been shouting and calling people names, but louie and sweeps respond to him with just “we’re doing what you asked” and his response is a very appropriate “ok. thank you.”

i love that as ebra tells richie his story of samalia and the “factions”, as he describes the helicopters coming in, we hear helicopters in the background, mixing with the music. and then richie goes “is this shit black hawk down!?” such a genius moment of humor during such a tense episode. and for that exchange to end with “fuckin’ piven” “piven”.

i fully believe the two seconds carmy spends in the walk in cooler he’s taking two seconds to just breathe.

tina opens the doors, even as they’re out of food, for the very first customer of the day. and he says “do you guys have risotto?” and tina just barks “no!”. ugh. so painful. so good.

once again, syd leaving right as the doors are opening is….i have mixed feelings. she just stabbed a guy, i get it (well….i don’t get it, i’ve never stabbed a guy). but she’s clearly in a bit of shock, and should prioritize her mental health over the shop. but….AGAIN, there are so many people who have no other options in their life, who need the beef to survive, and to abandon them all in the middle of a crisis just sucks. and i think it’s saying something that it’s syd and marcus. they have been sort of focal points and main characters in the show, yes. so them leaving is the most dramatic to the tension and narrative. BUT they’re also young. syd has an impressive resume and can find another job. arguably, marcus has a better resume now than he did when he got the job. they’ll be okay. but as it’s been stated so many times….where is richie gonna go? where is tina gonna go? sweeps has a history of drugs that is probably going to make it difficult to get another job (maybe. idk. he could have been kicked out of the mlb for weed or something, but still). the beef is full of people who have no where else to go, and the people who can afford to get out to at the worst possible moment, at the expense of the people who can’t afford to leave.

i was talking to my sister about this, she’s a psychologist. because i want syd and marcus to be emotionally, and psychologically healthy, and part of that is by removing yourself from toxic situations. but i can’t help but see the class dynamics of two people who have way more opportunities and privilege leaving the shop at the expense of the people around them. and i don’t know fully where to land.

but syd basically leaving and putting all of the blame on carmy is still….not fully right in my eyes? carmy is being abusive, carmy has created an atmosphere in the kitchen that was so overwhelming and bombastic that syd got distracted and accidentally stabbed richie. but for her to say “well, it’s all carmy’s fault” isn’t right. yes, when she calls him a piece of shit, she’s saying it for his actions today; for his actions with not having the humility to admit he doesn’t know what’s missing from her dish, and a lot. but almost every episode they’ve had a back and forth and a chance to talk and he’s continually apologized for his wrong moves, and she really hasn’t. so, to be right in the middle of a shitshow, and to say “this is all on you, this isn’t my fault”…like….ehhhhh, you asked to have more responsibility, you pushed for to gos and then you didn’t set it up properly. easy/honest mistake, but you still made it. that’s on you. you also picked fights (even with assholes who deserved them) and tried to argue with your boss about something in the middle of a rush. like, all understandable, none of it evil. but to turn all of that over to carmy and go, “100% of this is your fault.” like…no it’s not? syd definitely has a right to leave to try and process the traumatic event of stabbing someone, she has a right to leave to escape the toxic environment carmy has created, even if i have mixed feelings on making everyone’s lives harder by leaving. but i don’t think she can say it’s all his fault. it’s not ALL his fault, even if A LOT, if not MOST, of it is his fault.

i also wonder if syd calling him a piece of shit has anything to do with their “i don’t want to be shitty” “then don’t” conversation in season two? (but we’ll talk about that when we get there)

carmy realizing the weight of his actions, as the shit continues to crash and burn around him, only to crouch down and eat the smushed donut off the floor, and then have a sick, twisted, grim smile as he realizes that the donut is actually really fucking amazing, is such beautiful poetry. it hurts.

and also, people really are disgusted by carmy doing that, and like, yeah, it IS disgusting. but that shit happens every day at your favorite restaurant. shit fall. people pick it up and eat it. it’s not great, but it’s so true.

carmy smacking the ticket printer off the shelf and (hopefully) breaking it is the only outburst of anger i am in full support of. the ticket printer deserves to die.

aaaaaaaand that’s the episode. wilco plays their final note, a crowd erupts in cheers and we’re all left just…emotionally wrecked. i have probably watched this episode (along with the whole season) a dozen times, and im still conflicted on how i feel about the whole thing. because obviously carmy is in the wrong. it’s barely worth discussing how carmy is in the wrong. anyone trying to defend carmy is also in the wrong. but i don’t think he deserves 100% of the blame. a bad thing happened that wasn’t his fault, and he took his frustrations out on everybody around him, instead dealing with them in a healthy and non-toxic way. but everyone in this episode was at their worst, and that’s THE POINT OF THIS EPISODE. EVERYONE. tina’s mama bear-ing only caused frustration, marcus was lost in donuts and made things harder, syd made a i little mistake with huge consequences and then also attacked everyone around her (except much less intensely than carmy), richie is on fine form with being his annoying self, ebra reading the newspaper after being told to stop, and carmy’s abusive, explosive anger. they’re all at fault. not just carmy. carmy is just the loudest, most bombastic, and the main character, so we notice it more.

but that’s the episode! next is episode eight! season finale! in what is arguably one of the most subtle, nuanced, often overlooked and not talked about episodes….with one of the biggest, over the top endings ever that everyone LOVES talking about. but, we’ll talk about it when we get there!

#the bear #the bear fx #the bear hulu #carmy berzatto #carmen berzatto #the bear tv #the bear season one #the bear review #the bear series #marcus the bear #carmy the bear #sydney the bear #sydney adamu #richie the bear #richie jerimovich #tina the bear

17 notes · View notes

wardingoffevil · 1 year

Text

Kassam as a Dad

My obsession, my heart, my soul: Kassam. I love him so much. I get so excited seeing people talk about him or use him in their work. I know a lot of people have a hard time seeing him as a LI, let alone a dad. Let me try to show you a different side to this elusive DJ.

Trust me, it’s worth it! 🖤

Please note: I headcannon Kassam’s surname as Mansouri, and I headcannon his son’s name as Amir. It’s okay if you don’t agree!

💿 It’s canon that Kassam wants a family, but I can only see him having one child. A son. He has brothers, so a son would be perfect for him.

💿 Kassam wants to be relatively young when he has Amir. He wants to be at least 30 years old.

💿 Kassam comes from a traditional Algerian family. They wanted him to name his son after someone in the family, but he chose Amir. It had to be a cool name.

💿 In Arabic, Amir means “the prince.”

💿 Chelsea did not design Amir’s nursery. Kassam thought the less he had to interact with her the better. So, he hired his own designer instead.

💿 His son is going to be the best dressed newborn leaving the hospital. As he grows up, he will always be picking out his own outfits. Kassam is dead-set on Amir having his own sense of style.

💿 Kassam and Amir have matching studded blazers (iykyk).

💿 You wouldn’t expect it but Kassam is the type of dad to get up at all hours with his son. He has no problem changing him, feeding him, and doing all the daddy-duties.

💿 This is not a dad who is all over the place emotionally. Kassam has anxiety, but for the most part is pretty laid back. He does like a routine. So having Amir on a routine makes him very happy.

💿 Kassam is not active on social media, so he won’t be posting pictures of Amir. He isn’t keen on the idea of baby pictures of him being posted online anyway. Now, in his camera roll, on his phone? Full of pictures and videos. He looks at them all the time.

💿 It physically hurts Kassam to have to leave Amir when he goes on tour. Especially as a baby. They’re only that little once, and that’s why Kassam stays on FaceTime with him whenever he can.

💿 Like Lucas, Kassam will be very protective of his son. Not quite as intense as Lucas. Not just anybody will be his nanny, and he definitely won’t be going to just any daycare. He will most likely be looked after by a trusted family member. Probably Kassam’s mother.

💿 Kassam is the type of father who will encourage structure and discipline. He won’t be strict or authoritative like his own father was, but boundaries will be set.

💿 Expect multiple songs about Amir, if not an entire album.

💿 Amir is the only one he allows in his home recording studio while he’s working. He can multitask by making beats while Amir plays.

💿 School work will come easily to Amir. He’s the type of kid we all wished we could be like in school. The type of kid who never had to study and passed every test with an A. His favorite subject is math.

💿 Kassam isn’t going to be the loud, center of attention dad at any of Amir’s events, but that doesn’t mean he isn’t proud of him. Quite the contrary. He just wants to enjoy the event without chaotic parents (no offense Bruno, Bobby and Gary).

💿 As Amir grows up, he will be known for his parties. His dad’s an international DJ after all…

💿 The boys have a “pizza night”, every single Friday, where they eat pizza and watch trashy horror movies.

💿 Lucas and Kassam are close. They do hang out. I can see Lucas’s daughter being friends with Amir. Even if she is older than him, she looks out for him.

💿 They vacation to Algeria at least once a year. Kassam is very close to his grandparents, who still live there. He loves showing Amir around and immersing him in their culture.

💿 Did Amir inherit his fathers musical prodigy gene? Absolutely. Give him any instrument and he’ll play it. Especially a guitar. But he can’t stand techno music. Kassam just shrugs when he finds out.

His route is one of the most frustrating routes in the game. It’s hard to get him to say your name. This was the guide I used. I have found that it only works once. I do not remember who wrote this, so please let me know so I can credit them asap! And, this guide, by @kokokabana, is also very helpful. @ravenadottir has everything you’ll ever need here. From information on his route, to headcannons, even another way his route could have been written. I do mean there is everything there. @litgwritersroom has headcannons for Kassam here.

#litg #love island the game #litg kassam #kassam litg #kassam mansouri #amir mansouri #kassam as a dad #kassam headcannons #fatherhood #fatherhood moodboard #kassam moodboard #dad kassam #litg s2 #casa amor #wholesome content #wholesome #dad life #my prickly dj #from dj to dad

36 notes · View notes

cieloclercs · 7 months

Note

lover, you should’ve come over - let's do f1 or tennis you can choose, male preference!

I'm currently a 3rd year in uni studying statistics with a triple minor holy hell, in CompSci, Business Analytics, and Mathematics. I'm in my uni's marching band and I play the tuba, I'm on staff and I adore my rookies. Literally the shortest person in the section but I love the jokes they're all good fun.

Something about my face screams to people to tell me all about their relationship woes/stories and I honestly don't mind I love getting to know them a bit more. I'm not huge on physical touch but I'll warm up to it if you're a close friend. Very fluent in sarcasm but I know when to pull back. My friends would say I'm very dependable and chill. My love languages are words of affirmation and quality time.

I love to bake when I have the supplies, huge marvel nerd movies + comics, I'm horrible at finishing tv shows I either binge it all in one night or it'll take me 5 months to finish one season, tysm!

i ship you with sebastian vettel!

— ok so i know seb isn’t technically on the grid anymore and he’s kind of old BUT if we’re talking younger red bull seb omg this is SPEAKING to me !! you seem like such a go with the flow person but at the same time super ambitious and just like you know exactly what you want ?? if that makes sense ?? correct me if i’m wrong but that’s the vibe i’m getting from this 😭 and i feel like red bull seb would ADORE that

— ok you have no idea how much i love this imaginary dynamic but i’m picturing seb being totally infatuated with you before you guys get together, and i’m talking like he’ll follow you around, flirt shamelessly and basically just do classic seb things, but (at first) you’d shoot him down every. single. time. mostly just because you find it funny watching him tie himself into knots BUT ALSO maybe because you’re a little intrigued 😏😏 i can imagine you’d keep up this pretence for a while wondering when seb will finally have had enough and move onto his next conquest, BUT WHEN HE DOESNT you begin to think that maybeee this guy is worth sticking your neck out for 😏

— of course once you guys are together, the shameless flirting still won’t stop. i mean who are we kidding it’s sebastian vettel being a flirt is part of his genetic makeup 😭 but you have this superpower where you can just not react and it’s so funny because seb will turn it into some kind of competition to see who’ll crack first (you always win 😉) honestly you guys are the funniest couple ever but in the driest kind of way. i genuinely love you both. if this was real you’d be my otp (i’m getting too invested 😔)

— mini head cannon bc i forgot to add it in before: seb is fully convinced you’re the smartest person on earth and if anyone argues otherwise he will FIGHT them. even if they’re arguing einstein is smarter he’ll still do it. the guy honestly worships you and it’s hilarious (but also v cute 🥹)

— you’re definitely kind of seb’s mental health support 😭 like he’ll tell you everything that goes on in his team, and i mean everything (even when he’s not supposed to 🤫) when he has a bad race, you’re there to listen to him and let him just vent out all his frustrations. when he has a good race, you’re always there to lift him up. i feel like the kind of mutual understanding you guys have is really rare. like, the kind of bordering on telepathy understanding where you can just tell how the other is feeling from one look 🥹 of course, seb’s a gentlemen so he always works hard to give you everything you could possibly want in a relationship. even despite his busy schedule, he always makes sure to take you out on lots of cute, thoughtful dates, and even sends you little notes throughout the day just to remind you how much he loves you 🥹 honestly he’s so cute i adore him

— and a final bonus headcannon !! i feel like seb himself can be a bit of a nerd when it comes to certain things (we’ve all seen him in grill the grid, the guy just absorbs knowledge) even though he may not be a marvel fan originally, when he finds out you are, he works sooo hard to get caught up with all the movies and the comic lore so he can talk to you about it 🥹 then of course come the marvel movie nights (instigated by him) where you literally stay up for hours bingeing as many of them as possible (seb definitely gets so invested and cries at infinity war and endgame 😭) he just wants to spend as much time with you doing things you love as possible !! 🥹🤍

#🪷 — rose’s 1k celebration!#sebastian vettel #formula 1 #<3 #oof i’m getting more and more carried away with these ships 😅#like i’m so obsessed with this dynamic u have no idea

5 notes · View notes

autisticempathydaemon · 10 months

Note

Hi there, Jess here! Your redacted match game seemed really fun and i wanted to see who you’d pair me with! so here’s my junk! have fun!

-—-—-—-—-—-—

* Song - Taylor Swift’s Tolerate It specifically the lyric “Believe me, i could do it”

* Enneagram- I’m a type 2 but 4 was a very close runner up then 7 in 3rd place

* Video Essays- YES!! My favorite form of media. I don’t have a specific favorite, but I enjoy ones where they analyze the nature of people.

* Imaginary Friend- She was a girl about the size of Thumbelina. She had a pink T-shirt under a pair of overalls and flowers in her hair. I believed she lived in my jewelry box and I oftentimes went about my day with her sitting on my shoulder. Her name was Dorthy.

* Sleep Aids- I typically fall asleep with headphones in, listening to contemporary ASMR, role play ASMR, a tv show, or just some kinda background noise. I usually end up cuddling with my giant teddy bear that’s nearly the size of me

* Name Change- For a long time, i just went by my given middle name cause my given first name was crap. I chose Jess because it was cool and close enough to my first name that my family wouldn’t freak. (Little do they know it’s short for Jester)

* Favorite Redacted Audio- “Going all the way with your vampire mate” the emotional vulnerability always just brings so many tears to my eyes. that audio is what really convinced me to stick around the channel and check out other storylines.

* No appeal Redacted boy- sad to say there’s a few i don’t really care for that much. Regulus and Ivan specifically though. I also tried really hard to like the balance but never could.

* Favorite Media- I could probably quote the good place to you verbatim. It’s my favorite show and i cry every. single. time. without fail.

* Redacted Best Bud- I would KILL to be pals with Huxley. They seem like such a rad dude.

* Sleepy Ramble- Typically when i’m ready for bed i start rambling about anything and everything. and when i wake up i won’t remember it. most recently, my friend said i was talking about how good ice water is.

* Gas Station- Anytime i’m at a gas station, i get a white monster and an icee/slushee and pour the monster into it. it’s an abomination and i love it.

* favorite playlist- the playlist i made to scream and dance around my room to

* guilty pleasure media- old, bad MTV dating shows. they’re so crazy and stupid and give me something to laugh at.

* Fun Facts about Me- I’m 22 and work at the local cinema and it’s my favorite job ever. i play multiple instruments and music has become an integral part of my life. i’m an ex-theater kid. i keep every letter note and drawing someone gives to me in a box on my dresser. i like candles and nice smelling things in general. I’m a generally optimistic person, almost to a fault. I tend to have high hopes and subsequently get let down easily. I’m afraid of commitment and intimacy.

-—-—-—-—-—-—

I really hope that’s enough to analyze me and assign me a lover!!

take care of yourself, much love

-Jess

You are incredibly delightful and helpful! You gave me so much information to work with, so there is nary a doubt in my mind that you and Gavin would make an excellent match!

On a deeper, personal level, taking a Type two, typically characterized by that desire to be loved, who may be reluctant or afraid to fully be loved, and pairing you with Gavin works perfectly because that aligns with his mindset. You two would have a delightful slowburn of a romance, something that sparks and smolders until he confesses you are the sky to his stars (my favorite of his lines).

On a more minute level, I also think you two would work well because of the things you’d like; like, he would be so delighted by you. The thing about Gavin that’s adorable to me is how behind he is on some shows and movies, so I can just imagine his reactions when you show him old MTV shows like “Why are we snooping through these bedrooms? Who in god’s name is Tila Tequila???” He’d also get a kick out of visiting you at work and trying to get you to neck in the back of a theater with him on your break.

Song:

I always thought/ I wasn't the type/ To plummet/ Feel every cliché/ That low-budget movies rely on/ But I'm head over heels with butterflies in my stomach/ I feel fuzzy and warm/ And it's gross but I love it

I’m a sap and so, secretly, is Gavin. I don’t know if the tone really fits, because I personally can’t nail down what genres he likes, but the vibe works. I love ships that are not, like, “I didn’t know or understand love until you” but rather “I didn’t realize how easy and fun love could be until you”, you know? It’s also a really fun, energetic song, and I do think you and Gavin would be the type who’d have and be so much fun together once you settle into that love.

Runner-ups:

Guy is a fun runner-up for you, because I think he’d love all the media you like and would be really engaged in liking them with you. Also, he is definitely a theater kid, you can’t tell me otherwise, and theater couples are super cute. In contrast, I like Lasko for you because of that slow burn potential I mentioned. Gavin was a perfect combination of those two thought processes.

note: parental control was my favorite that shit was so weird tho lol

Read this post and send me an ask if you’d like a match-up of your own! 💌

#redactedasmr #redactedverse #redacted asmr #redactedaudio #redacted audio #redacted #busybee matches

7 notes · View notes

idealisticrealism · 1 year

Text

TCL 2x08 recap

Well, I guess it’s not surprising that I broke my record with this one lol. Honestly this episode made me suffer so goddamn much and I loved every single minute of it.

So in honour of the hiatus this week, have this very belated monster instead lol

Like seriously, you already know you’re ~In For It~ when the ep opens with Thony watching her baby boy sleep like she’s been sitting there practically all night ugh. And then her hurriedly packing a bag with enough clothes to last at least a week or more and not even waiting for the rest of the household to wake up before getting Fi to get them out of there?? God you just know she spent the whole night thinking about the danger she’d put them in, and all the choices she’d made, and now she’s doing what Thony does and Trying To Fix Everything Herself. At least she finally tells Fi a tiny bit more about what’s going on with Garrett and the FBI though (sidenote: I find it really cute to imagine the conversation last night where the family is all ready to go to bed and Garrett is just like ‘oh don’t mind me, I’m just gonna hang here on your couch for a couple hours… any chance you have an iphone charger?’ lol). But ugh I love Fi’s “If we go, we go together” to Thony bc firstly these two and their sisterhood gets me every time, but also it’s reminiscent of Arman’s “We’ll do it together” from 2x07, and now I’m emotional thinking about the fact that for years Thony could only truly rely on herself, and now she is surrounded by people who love her, who want to help carry her burdens with her and who would do anything for her. Plus the whole “Oh so this is about him?” / “No, it’s about you! It’s about our family” exchange is so goddamn amazing because the truth is that it’s both– Fi and the kids are her family, but now Arman is her family too, and she is doing whatever she can to protect them all ughhhhhh

Ugh Chris and Fi continually have such incredible scenes together. I love their dynamic, the conflict and the support and the way that they’re still always a team. There’s such a well done mix of parent-child dynamic (like her reassuring him when he started to freak out that the cops had come back), and a kind-of-team-mates situation (him helping get the kids ready to go to JD’s, etc), which makes a lot of sense for an oldest child and a single parent. Chris has shown before that while he’s definitely a moody teenager lol, when it comes down to it, he really does take that ‘man of the house’ role seriously and if Fi’s biggest protector– like when he got in between her and Marco and defended her when Marco was yelling at her in like 1x09 or whenever that was. Which is probably partly why he ended up going to the police station too, because he couldn’t face her being punished in order to protect him when his whole job (as he sees it) is protecting her.

Honestly this show just loves stomping on my heart– Thony’s face as she says goodbye to Luca just kills me, because it just takes me back to 1x06 and “I just want to hold Luca without thinking it’s going to be the last time, you know?” ughhhh. Back then it was Luca who could be taken from her at any moment, and while tbh that still remains a possibility (whether from rejection of the liver, or one of Kamdar’s men coming after him), now the fear is more that she might be taken from him, that she won’t live to see Luca and the others come home. And god the shot of her standing there alone as they drive away, not even able to force a smile and a wave as they go?? I already feel personally attacked by this episode and we’ve literally only just gotten to the title credits ugh

Ok as much as I hate female characters being killed off to further the development of a male character, I do kind of look forward to seeing what happens with Garrett as a result of all this. Also oooh his suggestion of a mole is interesting– hopefully not Jefferson though, bc he’s cute and I like him haha. I think Garrett might be grasping a bit at the mole idea because if that’s not the case, then he’d have to face the idea that maybe it was him that messed up and left her vulnerable somehow. Also lol getting Kamdar on profiteering is so Al Capone; he’d probably love the idea of following in such famous footsteps. He’d have his lawyers get him off immediately though, bc lbr he can afford the best. But damn Russo’s “[these men are] never the ones pulling the trigger”-- don’t we know that all too well ugh

Of course Thony is doing housework lol– I’m going to take that as a subtle throwback to 1x01, when she was frantically cleaning the kitchen after Theo’s murder and Fi said that she does this when she’s spinning out. Bc though she looks outwardly calm rn, I definitely think she is spinning out, especially with the way she freezes at the knock on the door. But ugh the way she practically slumps in relief at Arman’s voice just gets to me; she’s there alone, spending every moment in fear of someone coming to hurt or kill her, and then the one person she feels safest around– who has literally proven (twice!) that he’d kill for her– turns up instead. (I’m not crying, you’re crying). Though I’m guessing she was expecting him– from the way they talk about meeting with Garrett, it sounds like they’ve been in communication between last night and now; plus, given that Fi took the van, Thony has no transport to get to any meeting location. But ugh the way he only ventures a few steps into the laundry– far enough that he gets a small glimpse of the rooms beyond, but still not really entering her home, because he has no idea whether he would be welcome in that space or not. And when he sees the neatly made bed that is clearly Luca’s, and hears the kind of eerie silence that never exists in a house full of kids, he knows what she’s given up because of him. I love his “you should have gone with them”– telling her that she doesn’t need to see herself as trapped like he is, and that he wouldn’t blame her if she left, even if it caused Kamdar to retaliate against him. Her safety is what matters to him more than anything else. And then omg when he says he’s going to stay with her (Is anyone else hearing faint strains of ‘Someone To Watch Over Me’ playing in the distance or is that just me??), and she just nods???? (never mind me, I’ll just be over here screaming into a pillow for a few minutes at the idea of them staying there alone together aaaahhh). But also oh man I am obsessed with the fact that the old Thony would have said that she was fine, that she was handling things and she could manage on her own. But now she has learned to trust him, and to let herself rely on him to be there for her. She knows that she’d be safer with him there, and she also knows that he doesn’t have a place of his own at the moment– but above all that, she just wants him there. She needs him, and she’s still hurting for the both of them about what happened last night– you can see it in the way her eyes are less able to hold his, and hear it in “I keep playing it in my mind… what he made you do…” ughhhh. I love her line “maybe we could have done something different” because I could see him instinctively taking that to mean she wished that he had found another way, had made another choice rather than shooting Maya; but she’s actually wishing they’d been able to do something that would have prevented Robert ever using him in that way, would have prevented that pain and burden being put on him. Like I definitely think she is struggling a lot with Maya’s death, but when it plays over in her mind, I don’t think it’s Maya that she’s focused on. I think it’s Arman’s face that she keeps seeing, the panic and then the pain as he realises what he’s going to have to do, and the devastation afterwards, his tears in the car still haunting her. Honestly even though this show hasn’t given us a Thony-crying-in-the-shower scene since the pilot (which is both a good thing and a tragedy, honestly lol), I’m absolutely certain she sobbed in the shower last night after taking off that red dress. Crying for Maya, for Garrett, for herself; but above all, for Arman.

And now, standing here with him in the laundry, she seems like she’s trying not to cry again, her voice all low and her body tense, and it’s only a minute before he cracks and has to reach for her; he’s clearly been holding himself back from her but he just can’t anymore. But ugh the gentleness of the way he touches her arms– instead of just pulling her into an embrace, he basically asks permission to hold her, giving her the chance to either step back and maintain her space, or to lean into his support. And though she hesitates for the tiniest moment– which I’m interpreting as her being afraid to hold him because she feels that if she does, she might not be able to bring herself to let go– she soon gives in and just lets herself have this, lets herself lean into him and wrap her arms around him. Tbh I wasn’t sure at first if her arms were still kind of between them, but after many rewatches I’m convinced she’s definitely holding onto him– and plus I stg there is a sound right before she sighs, like movement against fabric, and I choose to believe the sound mixer person put it in there as the sound of her arms wrapping around him under his jacket lol. And then oh god the sigh. The way she closes her eyes and lets out that breath, lets herself have just those couple of seconds to forget everything else and just be held by him?? Help??

Except ugh that’s all she allows herself– after that one brief moment, her eyes open again and her jaw clenches, and she bites her lip and holds on just that little bit tighter before she forces herself to move back and away, getting them both back on task. And he lets her go immediately– the whole time through the hug he kept his grip light, giving her the control, and honestly the hint of reserve in the way they hold each other makes perfect sense. For him, it’s about not wanting to push her; for her, it’s about protecting herself. She may trust him completely, and be able to rely on him for anything, but she’s careful with her heart, and he’s still married. He’d never deliberately string her along or hurt her, of course, but his situation is still complicated and she doesn’t know what is going to happen. What she does know, though, is that she loves him, and that this might be all she ever gets to have of him.

God it is such a blessing that the caddy is so recognisable (and probably very inefficient in terms of gas lol), because it means that the bike is the go-to choice for transport these days, and I am so supportive of this lol. Not only is it hot, but I am definitely into all the semi-embracing involved haha. Like what’s the bet Thony actually holds him closer than she needs to on the ride, sinking into him in the way she couldn’t allow herself during their hug? And ugh they look like such a sexy matching pair with their jackets (ngl I saw a jacket the other day that looked a fair bit like the one she wears in this ep, and I ended up buying it lol), which just further highlights their partnership as they face off against Garrett. But oh boy, this is awkward: “now we’re going to take Kamdar down for murder. Him, and whoever pulled the trigger [...] I’m going to make sure every one of those bastards rots behind bars” and lol well if they were planning on trying to tell you the truth before, Garrett, they sure ain’t now. And ugh the way Thony stands up to him and says that they can’t help him catch Maya’s killer, and Arman immediately looks at her– possibly wondering if she’s about to tell the truth, but trusting her enough not to try to stop her if she is– and then instead she protects him, using logic to explain to Garrett why they can’t help, yet still lying to him just like she’d said she didn’t want to do. Honestly I love so much that even despite her reluctant regard for Garrett, and the way she feels indebted to him for the ways he’s helped her family (though lbr that’s got to be tempered by the ways in which he has previously also hurt her and her family), there’s no question about which side she’s on. Even from the start, her loyalty to Arman outweighed Garrett’s threats and the power of the law behind him, and though she wants them all to be on the same side, she will protect Arman to the end, even if it means completely betraying Garrett and screwing him over. Still, she and Arman are caught between a rock and a hard place rn, trapped by both Kamdar and by Garrett. But if they can take down one, they can be free of the other, so they agree to set up the meet to trap Kamdar. I love that when he brings out the listening devices (sidenote: they’re cool and I’d probably choose the USB or the necklace lol) Arman immediately refuses to let Garrett put her at risk by making her wear one, while Garrett tries to push her into it by using her family as an argument– and I could have easily seen that escalating into a conflict between the two men but Thony just calmly uses logic again and tells Garrett about Kamdar always checking for wires. And ughhhhh that means that this is yet another moment where the writers could have given me the gift of the Robert-making-her-undress reveal but didn’t! Goddammit haha. Anyway to Garret’s credit, he does actually listen to her most of the time, which is why I can’t help but have a certain fondness for him haha. But ugh I’m forever obsessed with all the little glances between Thony and Arman in this scene, the silent conversation happening that Garrett is not a part of– this is some legit married behaviour lol

Okay I’m like unreasonably delighted by the fact that Thony brings Arman in through the front door this time? Like look it could have purely been due to filming factors (ie, having the whole thing shot in the kitchen/lounge area saves having to film them walking through the laundry first), but still. The symbolismmmmm. @enigmaticfox has already made this amazing post about it (seriously go read it) and like she said, there’s something so impactful about the way Thony opens the door wide and grants him access (get your mind out of the gutter Laura), and then when he hovers in the kitchen– looking to her for direction, not wanting to overstep his bounds– she instantly invites him further into her space, the place that is her home and her sanctuary. I love that she takes her shoes off– part habit, of course, but also a sign of feeling comfortable and secure– while he leaves his on. Which is also likely partly habit, since leaving shoes on in the house is common in the US, and also when a guest in another’s home in Mexico. But I also think he is half-expecting to be dismissed at any moment, and so taking off his shoes would feel kind of presumptuous, like it would be sending a message that he’s now here to stay regardless of what she wants. And ugh the way his eyes move around the space, taking it all in, and then focus over in the direction of Luca’s room– while he doesn’t look directly at her bed, I’m choosing to believe he clocked it and realised that that area is her ‘bedroom’, and so despite his intense curiosity about this aspect of her life that he hasn’t yet seen, he respectfully keeps his gaze away, letting her have her privacy. And then ugh I could even get all metaphorical about the way he sits on a single chair while she sits on a couch (aka, furniture which is designed to be shared by multiple people) and also with one of Luca’s toys right next to her– her family isn’t there, but they’re there, always beside her; meanwhile he's alone, visibly separate– except that with her body language, she bridges that gap between them. And don’t even get me started on the way she crosses her legs up under her, much like she does when around her family– like with her taking the shoes off, this is another sign of how safe she feels with him, basically the human equivalent of how a cat will only sleep with its paws tucked under its body when it's around people it trusts. You don’t sit like that if you feel there is any chance you need to escape the situation or protect yourself; it's purely the way our instincts are wired. But ugh anyway of course his first question is to ask her if she’s okay– he knows her, can see she’s struggling just from the look on her face, from the way her eyes are mostly fixed elsewhere rather than meeting his; and all he wants to do is try to ease that burden. I think that being in her space– what is so clearly a family home, but now completely devoid of that family– has really highlighted to him what helping him has cost her, what it could cost her if they don’t get this situation with Kamdar and the FBI resolved as soon as possible; he suddenly feels he’s done nothing but drag her into danger and pain and emotional turmoil, and you can hear in his voice that when he says “then you can get back to your family and forget about all this” he also means forget about me. And then when her response to that is to look him in the eye and tell him “We have to be done with this guy”, you can see how it affects him– there's something so soft and grateful in the way he looks at her ugh, knowing that even after everything she’s been through because of him, she still hasn’t abandoned him; that they’re still in this together.

So I’ve decided that Agent Chan is one of my favorite side characters lol. She was there during the hotel raid in 1x10 as well, right? Though ugh her not-super-subtly pointing the mic and talking into her earpiece is making me stressed lol. As is the fact that Armony literally cannot control what Kamdar will say– god how terrifying to walk into that situation, knowing that they’re being listened to by the literal FBI, and knowing that Kamdar is exactly the kind of man who loves both the sound of his own voice and gloating over other people's misfortunes? Honestly it’d be a miracle if they managed to pull this off without him saying something that tipped off the FBI about their involvement with Maya’s death. (Also sidenote, but something I love about this show is that we repeatedly see cleaning ladies? Like I mean this one that’s just walked past Armony may turn out to be plot-relevant, but we also see them when they have no bearing on the plot at all– like at Cortes’ place, and in La Habana, etc. I like to think that the show is reminding us that these women are always there, and they are not invisible). Anyways I swear that Joseph has never checked either of them at the door like this before, but sure I’ll just roll with it haha. And then oooooh damn who do we find in the office? Not Kamdar, but Nadia. I have questions about this, because firstly Arman said they’d ‘set up a meet with Kamdar’– so did they actually contact anyone to say they were coming? Or did they just rock up? Because if they’d contacted Joseph or whatever, then surely they should have known Kamdar was out of town. Unless Arman contacted Kamdar directly and the devious prick just thought it would be funny to have him be faced with Nadia instead when he got there? Which tbh would be consistent with his character, and would also answer my next question, which is when the hell Kamdar put Nadia in charge, considering that last night at the party she seemed very out of the loop. So ok headcanon time: Arman messaged Kamdar to make a time for the meet in the afternoon, and RK (I’m getting sick of typing Robert or Kamdar lol) decided to have a little fun, and immediately called Nadia and told her he wanted her to run things while he was away. It’s genius, really; he gets to score points with Nadia by showing her he trusts and values her, and he gets to set up Arman to most likely have another fight with Nadia while also not getting his cut for the deal. Win-win for RK lol.

Anyway I do like that Thony was the one to suggest aborting mission first; though lbr that was likely mostly because the whole point is to get RK, but at the same time I think she wants to leave Nadia out of things if she can. (another sidenote: I find it very satisfying that Garrett believes Thony and Arman had no idea about Nadia’s connection to RK lol– oh Garrett, you sure miss a lot, don’t you buddy). But ooooh then Nadia insists that she’s RK’s right hand, and so they can deal with her– and tbh I think that that pisses Thony off big time, because Nadia’s supposed to be Arman’s wife, and yet she chooses to ally herself with the man who is trying to destroy him?? I think that that is the moment when she decides that she can’t keep going out of her way to try to protect Nadia, especially since doing so potentially endangers herself, Arman, and her family. Both she and Nadia have chosen their sides, and so now it's just a matter of bahala na– whatever happens, happens. Of course Arman can’t see it like that, and simply has to protect Nadia; partly because she’s family, but also because he’s already betrayed her once by falling in love with Thony, and can’t face the idea of betraying her in this way too. And while Thony understands his need to protect her, I can see her being frustrated about it, especially given her temper– like is he really going to put protecting Nadia above potentially saving the rest of them???

Okay the fam all rocking up at JD’s and being welcomed so warmly is just so cute ugh. I just love them?? And then ugh J-Fi being all cute in the kitchen (while putting away the biggest slices of pizza the world has ever seen??) and Jazz watching them is just so funny– I know, girl, I ship it too. Although apparently JD’s gf is called Laura so maybe I should ship that instead, out of solidarity to a fellow bearer of the name lol. (Ngl, I would date this man in a heartbeat haha). But ugh this height difference kills me, and so does their comfort together ugh. He’s sweet and kind and he makes her laugh, and he loves her family like they’re his own (bc they are). So please pleaaaaase writers let them be together ughhhhh

Ooooh Garrett is Big Mad about Arman sabotaging the sting, and lbr Thony’s not delighted about it either. But ugh the way she looks at him every time he says ‘my wife’ and defends Nadia so vehemently? You can see how much it hurts her, each time a sharp reminder that he’s not hers– she used to have better armour to protect her from that reality, but the more time she’s spent with him, the thinner it’s gotten, and now every reminder pierces straight through. And yet even despite that, she still comes up with a way to get RK without endangering Nadia– but she doesn’t do it for Nadia’s sake. She does it for him, and then when she realises that there’s no way to make the plan work without him taking back his place in Nadia’s life– and all that that entails– she does what she has to do and lets him go, even though it means breaking her own heart. (I’m fine, I’m not crying, shut up). But god this scene was so fucking LOUD with things unsaid; for example, when Arman says he can’t get the keycard bc of being kicked out, the natural response from an outsider, ie Garrett, would be ‘well just kiss and make up then??’ because of course the expectation is that as the dumped party, he would be wanting to fix things and get back together. And then there’s the way Thony suggests it– the “well maybe you should reconcile” where she almost manages to hide the unwillingness with which she says it (it’s the tone and the maybe that gets me, bc someone who was emotionally unaffected in this situation just wouldn’t sound like that). And then to immediately follow that suggestion– that very reasonable suggestion of a man making up with his wife after a big fight, aka something that most people would presume he wants and is already actively trying to do– with the statement “It’s the only way we can protect our families”? Like honestly they’re both acting as if she’s sending him to the gallows rather than back to the life he was living literally less than a week ago, which is not at all a normal way to behave in this conversation– that is, unless you’re sacrificing the very thing you want most, and telling the man you love to go back to his wife even though it means the two of you can never be together. Because like I said in this ask, it would be a real dick move for Arman to go profess love and devotion to Nadia, and then drop her again the moment he got what he wanted from her– and so if he is going to go ahead with this reconciliation, he has to be all in; he has to commit to making his marriage work, because both he and Thony have too much honour to do otherwise. Which means that getting the keycard for Thony will basically be his parting gift to her, and they both know it; it’s in his quiet ‘alright’ and his grave expression, and it’s in the way she looks at him like the words I don’t want you to do this are screaming inside her head. Which, honestly, is a huge fucking deal in itself; even if she’s not admitting anything aloud, she’s still letting him see what she previously would have done her best to hide, and I can’t help but feel that that– the truth written all over her face, the silent admission that this was never just a one-sided thing– is her parting gift to him.

Meanwhile Garrett is just over here seeing all this intense eye contact and mutual angsting and is all like ‘Seriously guys? Right in front of my salad??” lolll. Like honestly, if he didn’t know they were in love with each other before, he sure as hell does now. Though unless he really is an absolutely terrible FBI agent, he’d no doubt have already had some fairly major suspicions based on… well, everything these two have done since they met lol. And I mean the way he looked right at Thony when Arman said Nadia had kicked him out of the house suggested he has a pretty clear idea of what’s up haha. But ugh okay headcanon time: Thony can’t face the idea of the long ride back home with her arms wrapped around Arman– possibly holding him for literally the last time– or the conversation that he might try to have when they get to the house (she’s holding things together right now, but there’s no knowing how long that will last, especially if she has to Talk about it), so she asks Garrett to give her a ride back, saying something about how they don’t have much time so Arman needs to go and start working on the keycard (read: on Nadia) right away. And Garrett looks between the two of them and then is all ‘right, sure, yeah’ and so she just turns and heads straight for the car, and Arman immediately takes a step as if to follow her and reach for her arm, but then he stops and clenches his jaw and turns back to the bike without a word, his movements jerky and rough as he shoves on the helmet and then roars out of there, leaving Garrett standing in a cloud of dust. And Garrett just sighs and shakes his head, then walks around to get into the car. Thony’s staring out the window and he can see the muscle working in her jaw, so he just starts the car without a word, and neither of them say a thing until they reach her house and she starts to get out. “Hey, Thony,” he says quietly, and when she half-glances in his direction, he adds, “I’m sorry.” Because even though he thinks she’s definitely better off being as far from Arman as possible, he knows a little about having a broken heart. She tells him that Kamdar needs to go down for everything he’s done to them, and Garrett promises her that he will. Then she nods and climbs from the car, and he watches as she disappears into the house alone.

But ugh anyway. I appreciate the symbolism of Arman ringing the doorbell rather than letting himself into the house; it’s not his space anymore, and he doesn’t have a right to be in there without her permission. (And maybe he knows she’ll be more receptive to him if he’s seen as being especially respectful of her boundaries, who knows). Ngl the ‘what the fuck bro’ look she gives him when she sees him standing there is actually kinda funny though. But ok I really want to know how long has passed since they saw each other in the office– probably no more than a few hours, right? Bc I assume Garrett wanted to meet with Thony and Arman pretty much right away after the sting went bust, and I assume Arman went right to the house when he left the meet, so it can’t have been super long? Though tbh I would love if Arman didn’t go straight to the house, and (headcanon time lol) instead took a different road back to the city and ended up stopping by some ravine somewhere, tossing his helmet away from him with a roar of frustration before violently hurling rock after rock over the edge, until he finally slumps back onto the bike, both physically and emotionally exhausted. And then he still doesn’t go to Nadia, but instead rides straight to Thony’s place, sitting there behind the back fence for who knows how long before finally letting out a curse and taking off for ‘home’. But ugh anyway my point (before the headcanoning lol) was that I respect how quickly Nadia went from that sleek sparkly blue number in the office, to her (very cute) around-the-house wear lol. I guess she was upset by the altercation in the office and headed home soon after? Also I love that despite literally being on a mission to woo Nadia back, the first thing he does is order her to stay away from Robert. Like bro are you trying to suck at this? But then ugh when she tells him to leave her alone and go back to taking care of ‘Thony and her kid’– and I wonder if she wishes now that they’d had a child together, so he would have had more reason to stay, since it clearly seems that she alone isn’t enough? Loved that she repeated the ‘there is no us’ and says that he made his choice– but tbh, part of the whole problem is that he hasn’t made his choice? He’s been actively avoiding it this whole time, because while he knows he’s in love with Thony and wants to be with her and would do anything for her, he still loves Nadia as his family, and doesn’t want to just completely abandon her. Especially considering the fact that if she came over from Argentina with RK all those years ago, she likely has no family in Vegas; Thony at least has her little family unit around her, but Nadia has no-one but him. Well, him and RK– and as he says, she’s not safe with RK. Loved getting that bit of backstory that she’d left RK because of being afraid of him (honestly though I am SO curious how one gets away from a man like that and stays in the same city without him trying to drag her back in; unless getting married to a guy who had the protection of a major crime family had something to do with that….?).

Anyway I'm also loving that this scene is proving some of my theories right about Nadia thinking she can control Robert, and also wanting to be around him because he values her. And then she tells Arman to go, and he pauses, clearly trying to find the right thing to say, and settles on the truth, that he’s worried about her. But she’s not interested in hearing it, because she knows that that’s not the issue here. And ugh the shininess to her eyes as she asks him if he loves Thony just hurts me. I hate seeing the pain she’s experiencing because of the two of them and the connection they share– one that they ever intended on, but never stood a chance against, but still. It sucks. I love that even as he made himself lie and say no, it comes out as barely more than a whisper, rather than a firm denial; and then he can’t just leave it there, because on one hand, the lie feels too much of a betrayal of Thony, and on the other, he can see that Nadia doesn’t believe him anyway. But he can’t tell the truth either, because if he were to let that yes out there, she would never take him back; she has too much pride to knowingly be with someone who's in love with someone else. So he settles for the middle ground, because he knows that framing his feelings for Thony as unclear and uncertain and confusing is something Nadia could accept, especially when he says with all honesty that he loves her. Because he does! She’s his family, has been practically the only family he’s had for years, and he wants them both to always be in each other’s lives. But he hasn’t been happy as her husband for quite some time, and Thony’s appearance in his life just made him able to understand why.

But anyway hooooo boy I do have to say that was some impressive kissing haha– ngl on my first watch I practically had to watch this scene through my fingers, but I’ve built up a bit of a tolerance now lol. And ok I don’t know how much of it was deliberate manipulation, but I did like the way he was very respectful with her, going slow and not pushing, letting her decide if she would let him kiss her or not. And damn when a man can kiss like that, who could blame her for letting him???

Gotta say I don’t think I have ever seen a show have scene transitions so goddamn rude as going from Arman seducing Nadia on a goddamn countertop, to Thony sitting motionless and alone in her dark and empty house for hours, to Thony’s entire family laughing and having fun together in the warm light of JD’s place without her??? Like jesus christ writers, why must you hurt me in this way????? (Though ngl the camping in the living room thing was fucking adorable). But ugh Thony calls Fi, reaching out to her family while sitting on Luca’s bed because it’s the closest she can get to being with him, and it’s also a reminder that she’s doing this for him, to keep him safe. And ugh the somberness in her voice is such a contrast to the loud and laughing voices of the family, and even though she tells Fi she made the right call (about sending her family away, about sending Arman away) it seems more like she’s trying to convince herself than Fi. And then she sees Luca, and it makes her really genuinely smile for a moment– and then all too soon he’s gone to play with his sibling-cousins and the call ends and she’s hit again with how completely alone she is. (Like literally when was the last time she spent an entire night alone?? Definitely not since Luca was born, and ughhh that knowledge hurts me).

And then the next thing we see is her curled up on top of Luca’s bed, looking so incredibly small, and tbh I think the writers were having a competition to see how many times they can make me almost cry over Thony in this ep because god dammit this hurts?? Having her so alone and terrified is just awful– and then when she’s startled awake by the sound of someone outside and runs to grab any weapon she can, knowing how little chance she has of protecting herself?? Fuck. She’s so caught up in the panic that even after she hears Arman’s voice, she forgets she’s holding the knife for a moment and has to put it down in the laundry, but then she doubts herself again– she’s been wanting to hear his voice, wanting for him to show up and stay with her like he’d said he would before everything went to hell– so she has to peek out through the blinds to be sure it really is him there. And then she lets him in, heart still racing but her terror replaced by relief– not only that there wasn’t some intruder breaking in to get her, but also that Arman was there, and she wasn’t alone. I really wish we knew what time it was during this scene– ie, like midnight vs just barely pre-dawn, because that would change her perspective of why he’s here. I’m going to assume it’s just late at night, and so she’s looking at him secretly hoping that he’s come to tell her that he failed with Nadia, that there would be no reconciliation and that they would find another way to get access to the office. And hoping that maybe then he would ask if it was still okay for him to stay, to watch over her so she wouldn’t be alone… but instead he says that he’s just stopping by, and then hands her the keycard– and she just stares at it for a second, because let’s be real, it’s like he just handed her a certificate that has ‘JUST RENEWED MY WEDDING VOWS! ALSO MOST DEFINITELY JUST CAME HERE FRESH FROM HAVING EXCELLENT SEX WITH MY SUPER HOT WIFE’ emblazoned across it in fucking giant neon print. And god the way she takes in a breath and opens her mouth like she’s trying so hard to find something neutral to say– even something simple like ‘okay thanks, I’ll call Garrett’– but then she makes the mistake of looking up at him and the words just die in her throat because she can’t do it, she can’t pretend like this is fine, like it doesn’t hurt to have him standing right there in front of her but now even further out of her reach than he’s ever been. The fact she doesn’t hide that pain from him is huge– yet another wordless admission that she previously never would have allowed herself– and he sees it, and it hurts him too, knowing that he can’t fix it. He’d probably been lying there staring at the ceiling while Nadia slept, trying to figure out what the hell he was going to say to Thony, because how do you tell someone that you love them and wish you could be with them, while actively taking steps to be with someone else? No wonder she cuts him off– I don’t think she could have handled it if he’d tried to tell her what he felt for her right then. So she brushes it all aside with an “It’s fine”– even though they both know it is absolutely not fine, but he respects her decision anyway and doesn’t try to continue the conversation, knowing that he doesn't have a right to try to close the distance between them that he himself has just created.

Ngl when I watched the ep for the first time, I viewed both this moment and the ‘maybe you should reconcile’ scene as him thinking her response meant she didn’t feel the same way about him, and being all angsty like ‘how could she just send me back to Nadia like she doesn’t even care?? Waaaaahhh she doesn’t love me back’ lol, because the idea of him wallowing in completely oblivious misery while she was wallowing in fully-aware misery was pretty damn delicious haha, but then the moment I watched those scenes again I was like ah no he for sure knows exactly what this is doing to them both, and tbh that’s actually even more delicious lol. Because that means that mixed in with all the turmoil and angst and pain, there’s a glowing thread of ‘oh my god she loves me back’ (or at the very least, ‘omg she wants to be with me too’ in case he doesn’t dare hope that she’s like truly ~in love~ with him) but that in turn makes the turmoil worse because it shows exactly what he’s giving up. And I’m honestly so proud that she let him see the truth, let herself be vulnerable and open instead of hiding what she really feels away behind layers of hastily-rebuilt walls. Bc they’ve been doing this dance for so long already where they’ve been practically shouting their feelings for one another through their actions, even as they don’t dare to breathe a word of it aloud; but now they’ve finally at least acknowledged that they’re there, even if they haven’t put a name to them. Which would be really fucking amazing if it wasn’t happening in a situation where they both think that any chance of being together is now gone hahaha. But ugh anyway she manages to bring things back to business by mentioning Garrett (a sure way to kill any romantic moment lol) and then sighhhh she opens the door and shows him out, which is some more downright rude symbolism from the writers tbh. Also this reminds me, I answered an ask about this scene here, which also has my interpretation of his “I don’t know how much time I can buy you”. (Ngl I am immature so I giggle at the implication that he cannot satisfy a woman for very long lol, but also c’mon we already know that’s totally not the case for him haha). But tbh I do love that line, because while he’s mostly trying to protect her by encouraging her to get in and out of the office as quick as she can, there’s also a hint of a plea there; like he’s saying that this reconciliation is by no means guaranteed to last, and is begging her not to give up on the two of them just yet. Which makes her tiny nod mean even more; lbr, he’s going to be clinging to that faint spark of hope in the days ahead. But ugh the way she glances out at him through the blinds one last time while locking the door behind him, and then looks down at the keycard she’s still holding, her jaw clenching? She’d gotten what she needed, but the question is– was it worth it??

Okay seriously, seeing Nadia wake up looking so happy and satisfied really sucks haha. (I mean, this is a great sign for how much Thony is going to enjoy her future life with Arman lol, but damn I really did not need the reminder of all the sexing that occurred– so thanks for that writers, you absolute sadists lol). Seeing her react to the empty bed beside her was hard too, and then the way she smiles at him when he appears with coffees?? Like dammit he’s already broken her heart once and now it’s almost definitely guaranteed to happen again– and even worse this time, because I’m convinced she is going to find out that this make-up was a ruse to allow him to steal her keycard, probably when he inevitably confronts her about the marriage certificate and she realises that the only way he could have seen it is by accessing the office. Not only will the realisation that he used her like that– and even worse, used her in order to help Thony– absolutely shatter her heart, but it will be such a huge blow to her pride that I wouldn’t be surprised if she legit tried to murder him lol. And tbh I wouldn’t be able to say that it’s not warranted, because holy shit this really was a betrayal of epic proportions (no matter how good his intentions were or the fact that he was trying to protect her, it was still unforgivable), and like I said in one of those previous Asks, their relationship will never, ever, ever recover from it. Which tbh is why I couldn’t hate all the Arman/Nadia in this ep, because the way it happened (Arman fighting to get her back, not for her, but for Thony) was literally like watching the titanic get put on a collision course with the iceberg; there’s nothing but absolute catastrophe lying ahead. Plus that’s not even to mention the fact that he was able to convince Nadia to take him back so easily, which clearly shows that the only reason they hadn’t reconciled earlier was because he actually hadn’t even been trying at all. Regardless of what he’d been telling her, he didn’t actually want to get back together with Nadia– especially not when her leaving him had freed him from the obligation that had kept him bound, that had kept him apart from Thony– but it wasn’t until the moment that Thony asked him to reconcile with her that he'd realised it. And then it didn't matter, because like he said in 2x04, he always does whatever it takes to keep Thony safe– even breaking his own heart.

Phew honestly it’s a relief to have an FBI scene, bc this ep is just too goddamn heavy lol. I’m happy to see Agent Chan again, and I hope she was the one who actually messed with his car haha. And then ta-da, looks like the cleaning lady we saw earlier did turn out to be plot-relevant after all, as Thony has put on her trusty cleaning-lady-disguise and taken her place. But ugh I can’t help but think about the fact that she’s in here alone, literally risking her life to get them all free of RK, while Arman is busy canoodling in the comfort of his king size bed. Though lbr, I don’t think anyone hates that fact more than Arman– how awful it must feel, to be deliberately deceiving one woman you love in an incredibly hurtful way, all the while knowing that the woman you love even more deeply is in danger and yet you’re here betraying her (no one will ever convince me that he doesn’t feel like he’s cheating on Thony right now) instead of there protecting her. Aaaand oops I managed to make the FBI scene about Armony lol. Also I get what Russo means with her comment, but I still take offense at her calling Thony ‘your girl’ lol. She is only one man’s girl (and as the song goes, he needs her, lol) and that man sure as hell ain’t Garrett. But ugh of course RK has a fucking advent calendar instead of a safe; thank god Thony gets lucky and finds the ledger after only a few goes, rather than having to search the whole fucking thing lol. But the ledger is not the only thing that she finds– and whatever that piece of paper is, it’s clearly hugely important, because she risks going back to get a photo of it even though she can see Joseph already headed her way. But ugh I do appreciate that Garrett was ready to rush in and save her, but looks like he has learned his lesson about busting in after what happened with Cortes. But also omg the stress of Joseph walking right past her in the hall?? Good thing the old cleaning-lady-invisibility appears to still be effective. Though ngl I was imagining a scenario where he and the other cleaning lady are a ~thing, so when he sees her there he goes over to flirt a bit, and then he realises it’s Thony and they stare at each other like wtf lol. But of course that would not have gone well for the mission, so I guess I will just have to give up on my Joseph x Faceless Cleaning Lady ship dreams for now haha.

So Thony’s sitting in the kitchen looking at the photos on her phone (or lbr, one in particular, aka the mystery paper) and there’s the knock at the door, and she freezes for a moment, waiting– and then as soon as she hears Garrett’s voice she goes to let him in. And tbh I wonder if her waiting to hear who was at the door wasn’t just about making sure it wasn’t a potential threat, but also maybe she was wondering if it was Arman again, and so she hesitates because she’s not sure she can face him right now? Especially because they’ve now achieved what needed to be achieved, so technically he could call off the reconciliation with Nadia (though as I’ve said before, they both know he actually can’t/won’t, not without it making him an utter bastard). But maybe I’m just making stuff up here lol. Anyway I find it kinda interesting how she and Garrett are a little matchy matchy in their blue tops, like she and Arman had matched in their black jackets. Maybe the costume department showing her connection to both of them? But again, probably just me making stuff up. And then lol of course he casually does the social faux pas of scrolling through someone’s photos without permission, and she gets the phone back real quick, clearly to stop him seeing the pic of the mystery paper. But okay so he tells her they can get RK on criminal profiteering, and I’m confused again about the way he’s changed his tune?? Earlier in the ep he was super against the profiteering charge and was determined for him to go down for murder. What changed?? Or is Garrett planning to use the information gained from the ledger to trap RK in some other way? I need answers lol. But ugh it genuinely sucks when he is all compassionate towards her now because it just makes her feel so much more guilty about Maya… which is why she tries to make it clear to him how grateful she is for everything he’s done for her and her family, and how he’s not to blame for what happened with Maya. I guess she’s hoping that he will remember this conversation after he finds out the truth about Maya, and will know that she did genuinely care for him and that she wasn’t just using him the whole time. (Sidenote, she thanks him for everything he did for her family ‘last night’ but it was actually the night before that. Keep up, writers! lol). Also I can’t remember what ep it’s from, but I swear Garrett has said ‘good work today’ to her before and I’ve decided it’s his little catchphrase lol

Ughghhhhhh have i mentioned lately how much I love the De La Rosa family?? The pureness of the sibling bond between all three kids, and the way that all of them (Fi included) are able to have fun and be silly together? Like ngl this video game scene was an incredibly accurate family depiction haha. Also I love the melodic little sound Fi makes as she walks into the room, like a happy little wordless greeting? God she’s so cute, I want to be besties with her lol. Anyway honestly being here on this little ‘holiday’ with JD has been good for all of them ugh. But oooh the conversation between Fi and JD about Thony is interesting– she tells him it’s unfair for him to say he doesn’t want Jazz anywhere near Thony until the FBI stuff is over, but honestly is it unfair? He’s her father and he doesn’t want her in danger, and I mean before now it wasn’t like there was a way to remove Jazz from that situation, but now he’s back and has a safe place for her to stay, and she’s far better off with him than at the home where Thony’s enemies could find her. And his point about Thony putting them all in danger is kinda fair too tbh. Of course I’m a Thony supporter all the way, though, so I want to say ‘It’s not her fault! She didn’t have a choice!’.... except that that’s not entirely true. With regard to season 1, it was; she was doing whatever she had to do to save Luca, and if that came with a small risk to the family as a whole, she had no option but to accept that and take steps to minimise it as best she could. But now– with all the stuff with Kamdar– it’s different, because it’s not Luca or the family that she’s trying to save, it’s Arman, and she did have a choice. Bc honestly, after 2x04 (when Mr Motel Mustache is dealt with), she could have basically walked away from it all– she didn’t need to continue getting meds with Arman and selling them to help his and Nadia’s debt. And when the fight in 2x05 happened and Arman said they were done, she could have decided that they really were over and that she needed to remove herself from his world, and from him, and he wouldn’t have tried to force her back in; even with RK telling him to get Thony to come clean the office, if she’d outright said no and told him she wanted nothing more to do with him, he would have called one of La Habana’s cleaners and then just gone and borne the consequences of RK’s displeasure himself. But the truth is she was never going to do that. She was never going to walk away from him, not when he needed her– even though she knew it meant putting herself directly in the sights of a man as dangerous as Robert, she did it anyway. But the real question is, if she’d known then everything that would happen as a result of helping Arman, would she still have made the same choice? (Honestly, my gut says yes). And okay anyway I love that Fi defends her and says that Thony’s the only one who’s always been there for her, but I mean really? How? They’ve been living in separate countries for 15 years, and who knows if Thony has ever even been able to visit before– not to mention that in the past 5 years she’s been completely occupied with just keeping Luca alive and also not going bankrupt from Marco’s assholery. Like I appreciate Fi’s loyalty but I have some questions lol. But oooh yessss at JD’s insistence that they all stay with him until it is all over, I fully support this! Bc as much as Thony being all alone hurts my soul, I love the J-Fi and kids family dynamic– and I mean, Thony’s house being empty means that Arman can come over and that they can…. talk….. without being interrupted lol. Just saying, those two have some reconciling of their own to do :P

Speaking of the reconciling, god the way Nadia looks like she’s walking on air as she heads into the club is absolutely killing me (though again, what an excellent sign for future-Thony’s happiness haha) bc ugh it’s not fair that the source of her happiness is built on a lie, and that the whole thing is going to come crashing down around her very soon and leave her even more brokenhearted than before– bc let’s be totally honest here, this reconciliation was doomed from the start; we can’t control who we love, and despite Arman’s best efforts and intentions, at this point it would be easier for him to stop breathing than it would for him to stop being in love with Thony. Plus like I said before, there’s no way the man is going to be able to just ignore the marriage certificate– the evidence that she’s been lying to him since they met, and also the thing that could potentially mean their own marriage is void– and so when he inevitably confronts her about it, she’s going to realise that he got into the office somehow, and put two and two together. And ugghhhh even despite my love of Armony, that moment is going to be so hard to watch, because while Nadia has her flaws, she doesn’t deserve this. And ugh we see just a tiny glimpse of that hurt when she realises the keycard is gone and is faced with the horrible possibility that Arman took it– but of course Thony protected him and left it somewhere where it would be found quickly, but would also still be believable that Nadia would leave it. Which is just even further manipulation of Nadia and ugh it feels gross to watch (though at least we know that both Thony and Arman feel terrible about it, and are only doing it because they have no other choice). But ugh anyway on a happier sidenote, it’s cute that Nadia waved to the bouncer on her way in; I bet she’s made friends with all of them and they think she’s the best, and I could totally see her with a whole little army of loyal bouncers lol. (So look out, Arman! haha)

Okay so I might be getting a little conspiracy-theorist here, but I’m going to say it anyway: what if Russo is dirty??? Like what if Russo actually was the mole, and has been indebted to RK this whole time??? I mean I know Garrett found the tracker in Maya’s things, and so he now believes that that’s how RK knew where to find her– but who brought him those things? Russo. Russo, who knows him very well, and so would have known that he would have taken absolutely every precaution to hide Maya, meaning that Maya’s abduction and murder would have had him convinced that there must be a mole in their department. And so she preempts that by planting the tracker in Maya’s things and letting him discover it himself, completely erasing his suspicions and leaving her in the clear. Which makes me also wonder if her big promotion is either a) because Kamdar pulled some strings for her to get her the job she wanted, or b) was her looking for reassignment so she can get away from RK without him threatening to expose her. And so what if the whole reason she is pushing for him to be brought down for profiteering rather than murder is because that’s run by a different department, and so RK won’t know that she was involved? Bc I can imagine that if her department tried to take him down, he’d be like ‘well you better make this go away or I’m telling everyone about our arrangement and taking you down with me’. And so while she can’t risk being the one to take him down, she desperately wants to be free of him, which is why she’s pushing for the profiteering angle. But anyway I know I may be way off base with all this, but idk this theory just has a grip on me now lol. Like I don’t think Russo is bad, I think RK just has her in a tough spot, like he has Arman and Thony and so many others. Plus, the way Russo says “Now you know you’re not to blame” after Garrett finds the tracker makes me believe that she didn’t just plant it to cover her own ass– she also did it so he would be able to forgive himself, because she genuinely does care about him and hates that he’s hurting. But ah well, I guess we’ll see in the coming eps whether I’m onto something here or not lol

Damn, the fact that Thony is waiting for Arman outside despite the lingering threat of RK sending someone to hurt her?? I guess she really doesn’t want him in her space rn / is really trying to keep her distance now that the situation between them has changed. (again, the fantastic post by @enigmaticfox really highlighted this). But ugh I need to know what she said to him to get him to come over– like I assume she texted rather than calling (hearing his voice and knowing that Nadia was likely only in the next room would have just been too hard to bear), and she was probably careful with her words in the text because she knew that there was the possibility Nadia would see his phone. So did she use some kind of code or something, because a ‘we need to talk’ would definitely not go down well if Nadia were to see it lol. So maybe she made up something about there being an issue with the meds that they needed to sort out, knowing he would understand what she was trying to say– and then after sending it she immediately gets a text back saying ‘on my way’ like he’d been keeping his phone close and just waiting to hear from her. But ugh I feel for the position she’s in– caught between the need to protect her family, and the irresistible urge to protect Arman (even from himself). And even as she asks if he knew about the marriage, she already knows the answer; simply because if he’d known, he would have told her already. They don’t keep things from each other, not anymore, which is why she risked going back to the certificate to get a photo– she wanted to be able to show him the definitive proof, so he wouldn’t be forced to choose between her word and Nadia’s. (Sidenote: from the certificate itself, we can see that Nadia’s surname was De Leon, which is freakin badass; and also that she and Robert got married 8 years ago, which means the maximum amount of time that she and Arman have been together is probably about 7 years, but may well be less). But anyway ughhh the way Thony makes it clear to him that she genuinely wanted to help him protect Nadia, but that if the only way to take down RK is for Nadia to go down too, then she’s going to have to take it, because she has to put the safety of her family first. And then they just stare at each other, because they both know what this means; if he chooses to put his family (aka Nadia) first– and protect her even if doing so means RK walks free– then he and Thony will have no choice to be on opposing sides in this fight.

And that’s the last place either of them wants to be.

#The Cleaning Lady #Armony #TCL recaps #how many fucking hours did I spend on this omg #thank god for the hiatus #(let's not think about how absolutely screwed I'm going to be next week lol)#but still please feel free to come talk to me about this show haha

17 notes · View notes

thisbelongsto-nohbodys · 2 years

Note

Got any Marcy's Parents hcs not already covered in previous posts?

Yeah I should’ve expected this, lol. Well, heres a few I have while I’ve been writing some Sashannarcy stuff (mostly jokes and comics/mini-comics)

Mr and Mrs Wu are childhood friends. They couldn’t admit their feelings for each other however. When their families were trying to get them to go to a marriage interview they went just to shut them up but they were both surprised and happy when it was revealed that they were put together for it.

Mr Wu’s job was moving him to be a supervising manager at the Gravesfield, Connecticut branch. The family enjoys the slower pace compared to LA but it took a while to get used to having winter again after living in LA for so long (Mr Wu can’t deal with the cold that well).

Mrs Wu was the star of several athletics teams in school and shes a bit disappointed that Marcy isn’t as athletic as she was but seeing that Marcy is as clumsy as her dad it makes sense why to her.

The Boonchuys were the first friends the Wus made when they moved to the States however this became a bit strained when the Trio disappeared and the move. Things patched up a bit when the girls returned but distance is still a factor.

Mr Wu decided to get to know more about Marcy when/if she came back and when she did she got him really into anime. It’s gotten to a point that he’s mentioned shows that even Marcy had to look up to see if it was real (this then gave them an Anime Saturday Night where they recommend anime to each other and watch them).

Mrs Wu became a member and even leader of several local government committees after moving to Gravesfield. She’s currently running for mayor and doing well in the polls.

While the Hexsquad was in Gravesfield, Mrs Wu swears she saw weird things happening like flying kids, monsters, shapeshifters, witches but thought it was some kids being weird or making a movie. (this may change based on Owl House S3)

Mr and Mrs Wu have never missed an anniversary since they’ve gotten married. No matter how far they are or whats going on they always make sure to spend time together in some way.

Mrs Wu is a bit suspicious about Marcy’s new friend Luz considering Anne and Sasha but figures that Luz might be able to get Marcy to forget about Anne/Sasha (except it was the opposite and Luz was encouraging Marcy to confess her feelings which took about 10 years). Luz’s “sister” Vee was a favorite of Mrs Wu.

They are supportive of Marcy being Pan.

Mr and Mrs Wu have read every single chapter of Marcy’s webcomic and they enjoy it a lot (it’s also allowed Mrs Wu to come to terms a bit about her new dislike of Anne and Sasha but not completely). They both know that the main characters are obviously based on Marcy, Anne & Sasha but only Mr Wu ships them together while Mrs Wu admits they’re cute but is resisting it.

No matter how exhausted either of them are after work they try and cook dinner together (rarely will they call for take-out).

That’s what I have atm. Similar to the Waybrights I won’t make any fan-design until after Marcy’s journal as they may appear in it or Matt may release a design for them. Hopefully we get something so that I can write some more fun comics

#amphibia #ask #marcy wu #mr and mrs wu #amphibia headcanon #weirdkev27

31 notes · View notes

invisiblegarters · 1 year

Text

Never Let Me Go Ep 9

Palm, do not get a tattoo for Nueng. Do not get a tattoo for Nueng. Do not - *sigh*

Okay I love his mom. I think it, she says it. She's not wrong about teen love. Also I feel like tattooing your body with a reminder of your lover is a horrible idea. You'll be stuck with that forever, and there's no guarantee that you'll be with that person for that long, especially when you're two dumbass kids. All of my hang ups about relationships are coming out this week, aren't they? But come on, man, tattooing someone's name on your literal skin is just asking for a break up.

Nueng has such rose colored glasses on about their relationship right now. I do think that in this instance Palm has it right. That said, I am highly amused by the fact that they're in sappy lurve and Palm is still calling Nueng "Mr."

Palm really is all in on this, huh? I feel like he's giving too much, and when this goes bad there won't be anything left of him to salvage.

Okay, look. Ben and Chopper are cute but I am still worried about this. It's moving too fast and Chopper is too in love to hold back and dammit, he and Palm should just hook up and be ridiculous together. Then maybe they can fall head over heels and give too much and not eventually get their hearts broken.

I have got my eye on Ben, is what I am saying.

Well. Chanon didn't protect your parents that well, Nueng, considering one is dead and the other is in a coma.

It had to be said.

Okay, his attempts to comfort Palm are kinda sweet but Nueng. Babe. Sometimes it's not actually about you. Of course he wouldn't know that, would he, since everyone in his life acts like it is.

So every single time that Ben and Chopper enter a bathroom I am going to worry about it because of that trailer.

Yep, and here is the part from the trailer. You know the one. I mean, duh, we all knew Kit was responsible for what happened to Tanya, but here's the part where Chopper gets his heart trampled.

Honestly Benny I don't think that you have a leg to stand on here. That's his dad. Yes, his dad is awful but you more than anyone should understand. Also I really need to stop laughing when Ben acts like he's gonna be the one to stand up to anyone. It's mean. But I really do dislike the position that he's putting Chopper in. Not that it wasn't going to happen anyway, I guess. At some point he was always going to have to either take a stand against his dad or join him, and the longer this show goes on the less I can believe that joining was ever an option.

Poor Chopper. He's such a gentle person, it sucks that his dad is like he is.

Well I misjudged Palm's mom. I one hundred percent thought that she'd sell Nueng down the river. But instead she got herself shot for them.

Hey, Palm is a much better shot than Chanon. Rock on.

Except now he's screwed. There's three dead bodies there (RIP Palm's mom, you were a lot of fun and you will be missed) and you better believe Kit will find a way to pin all of them on Palm. Palm the son of the man who schemed (no but seriously. It would have been fun if Chanon had been playing a long game but more and more I'm thinking he's exactly what he appears, and that…is not that bright) to kill Nueng's family. Palm who surely kidnapped Nueng and then killed his mom and the people that Kit sent to rescue him in a fit of pure rage.

At least that's what I assume. It's what I'd do, but I'm not a criminal mastermind (to be fair, I'm not sure Kit is, either). I just watch a lot of movies.

NUENG. IT IS NOT ABOUT YOU. For just once. Just once, can you please, please, please not make it about you.

*Nueng proceeds to make it about him*

See? Do you see Palm? This is what happens when you give the entirety of yourself to someone. Bad things. I do think that Nueng is attempting a self- sacrifice of sorts here, trying to push Palm away because he keeps losing by his association with Nueng, but also it's just a dumb time to be doing it and part of me feels like he's definitely also doing it as a reaction to Palm actually showing emotion that isn't 100% fawning.

I swear I like Nueng, I just feel more for Palm. I don't get the vibe that Nueng is all in the same way I get it from Palm, so I want to protect Palm more.

Calling it right now. Nueng is gonna take off. He's gonna get Palm out of the room and he's gonna run. Like a dum dum.

Although perhaps he can find Chopper and they can band together. I worry about that boy. I worry that he's gonna be stupid so that Ben doesn't do something even more stupid. He needs a friend, and I guess Nueng will do. And Nueng could probably use an ally in the family.

Oh my god is he going to drug Palm? Or maybe he's asking for a gun to take with him. Looks like he's not bouncing while Palm is in the bath but I still think he's gonna do the thing. Probably at the very end of the episode. I swear. First Between Us giving us a happy get togethery episode 11 for the main couple, then GAP giving us a Sam chooses Mon instead of Worst Grandmother episode 11 (in prep for an angsty ep 12), and now Never Let Me Go being like "angst and separation speed run!"

The hell, Thailand? Make sense! Stick to the formula, you!

(don't stick to the formula I'm having so much fun)

Aw they got their dance. And of course it's all angsty. And for the first time since they got together I'm actually buying that Nueng is all in the same way Palm is. Probably because he's planning on leaving.

HE DID DRUG PALM. NUENG. I probably shouldn't be as impressed by that as I am. Hey, if you're gonna do the thing then do it all the way, don't mess around. That's one thing that I always did like about Nueng, though. Dude has the courage of his convictions.

Oh damn, he left the bracelet. That's cold. I dig it. And aw, he's releasing him. To the refrain of Silent Night which is just as out of place as it ever is.

I like this though. I might get to see a Nueng and Chopper team up (I swear to god Nueng if you treat Chopper like the enemy for more than a couple of minutes next episode I will scream), but Ben better not be all up in Nueng's business again because I will riot.

In summation: this is why we don't get tattoos of our lover's names on our backs, Palm.

#never let me go #episode 9 #chopper my beloved

5 notes · View notes

teamrocketmemes · 1 year

Text

[ LUXIEM 1ST ANNIVERSARY ] PART 1

In honor of Luxiem’s first anniversary, this is a sentence starter from this Vox Akuma VOD where they reminisce about old phrases they all have said in a game format. I’m taking both the phrases discussed specifically as well as other funny quips said during the stream. Content warning for mild language. Feel free to change pronouns if necessary.

“I’m a really smart guy and I definitely thought about this really hard before we started.”

“Are we introducing ourselves??”

“Sussy among us…”

“I’m the detective guy, but there’s someone cooler next to me.”

“[Name] is eating spicy noodles by choice now.”

“I was having the cravings and I—I just went for it.”

“There’s no such word as can’t.”

“Burrito?? Is that a Naruto character??”

“You swear to everything holy that these are not fabricated??”

“Why does it look like you etched his name in blood??”

“I was right on his ass shoving that thing in.”

“Every single [name] quote has the word POG in it.”

“UnPOG.”

“I felt a strange vibration in my wenis.”

“Google it. The Flagina is real.”

“I got to Urban Dictionary and I don’t think I wanna read this out.”

“I have a meme for this. Hold on.”

“My phone is on 5% but that’s enough.”

“Staff, for legal reasons, that’s a joke.”

“Guys… How do I delete my canvas??”

“[Name] has created a horror so real that it won’t leave.”

“If I keep on guessing, one of them has to be [Name].”

“Let’s have a look at what—” Burps really loudly.

“You want to fight me in Tetris after seeing my brain??”

“They do call me the master baiter.”

“No!! I like his hat!!”

“I feel like it’s me but when the fuck was this??”

“When I read it, I can hear [Name]’s voice.”

“Here’s [full name], he says LOL.”

“This is a historic quote.”

“They didn’t say laugh out loud, they said LOL.”

“If someone ends with a full stop, I feel very threatened.”

“The grammar police in my head is just like ‘You gotta do it [name]’.”

“We had to just decipher something that was written in binary but we didn’t realize that it was binary–”

“I was straight up incapacitated for a while…”

“Oh! the double penetratio–”

“I will be putting some of you on blast today.”

“This is me but I stopped earlier, in my defense…”

“No matter what you say, it will always return to bite you in the ass.”

“My favourite position? I like beieng on my computer playing League of Legends.”

“You’re absolutely right. League absolutely plays [name].”

“Are you a mistletoe? Because I want to be under you.”

“BRUH.”

“What’s something funny… Does anyone remember the movie Sky High??”

“All I know that it’s like— My Hero Academia several years before it came out.”

“If they’re asking for a kick in, they should get a kicking.”

“Waitwaitwait— I’m drawing a funny.”

“What an unit indeed.”

“Meow, bottom.”

“Only real ones remember.”

“Ooooh the memorie– Wait, no.”

“Mine is the default Windows wallpaper.”

“You guys know the incident I’m talking about. Don’t try to play dumb.”

“That might be the most awesome thing that’s ever gonna happen on this stream.”

“I’ve never had more raw panic into my body than when it kept going after the car.”

“You exposed yourself on this one.”

“Liar has 5 letters.”

“Why is [name]’s number all the way to the right??”

“I feel like a worm on a piece of concrete.”

“See, the first question you ask is would you say this to yourself??”

“I have this really bad habit of having these really overly specific analogies that I never remember but everyone else does.”

“Did [Full name] say this??”

“[Name] really is the kid who reminds the teacher that they had homework.”

“Who really needs restraints such as handcuffs?? There’s a perfect space between the tip of my show and the heel where your wrists fit just right.”

“I can’t guess because I don’t know what this means.”

“That’s such a mid S.”

“I’m drawing with a mouse. It’s good enough.”

“Unless you did not know, I don’t wear heels.”

“[Name] is depicting a fucking cave drawing.”

“Number 12 is, I guess, cock.”

“All of my quotes are sexual.”

“I’m sorry for putting you on blast.”

“It’s not that there’s something in the sentence that blatantly gives away who it is.”

“Does he know?? He doesn’t know.”

“Like, dude, you don’t understand, it’s rectangles man.”

“Most likely to become a Bro…”

#★ mod james.#★ our memes.#rp meme #sentence starters #ask meme #youtube memes #vtuber memes

5 notes · View notes

morganas-pendragons · 1 year

Text

The Walking Dead Series Finale: I CANNOT BELIEVE IT WAS THIS GOOD

Be warned, SPOILERS GALORE. I went into this episode with such low expectations because I have seen: Supernatural, Game of Thrones... and had no idea what to expect because I’m so used to series finales just being god awful.

THIS ONE WAS NOT. LET ME PREFACE THIS BY SAYING THIS COMPLETELY EXCEEDED ANYTHING I WAS EXPECTING.

S P O I L E R S.

Rick and Michonne -

Good God. I didn’t think I could cry harder but I did. I always had suspicions that Andy would come back in the finale to some extent - because it would make no sense for the main character to not appear - as well as Danai, and as soon as I heard his voice, I broke.

Because the montage that filters between Rick and Michonne and eventually leads into every single character of this show perfectly encompasses everything The Walking Dead has been since the pilot.

Getting to see that they both still have the hope of reuniting, that they haven’t given up on one another and that Rick still has intentions of getting home to his babies broke me.

Seeing Rick again after losing him in such a devastating way broke me. Andrew Lincoln could be on screen for ten minutes with no lines and can convey so many things just with his eyes.

Danai too. And the dedication Michonne has to Rick, to someone who she loves so deeply, reminds you that even in a world like that one... there’s goodness. There’s hope. There’s promise.

I wasn’t planning on engaging in the spin offs, but this one I will. I really just need Rick and Michonne to get home to their kids. Especially since Judith mentioned multiple times in this episode that she just wants her family to be together again.

The girl is a child. She wants what all children want: Her mother, her father, her family, her home.

And I think Rick and Michonne’s spin off is gonna fulfill that little girl’s dreams. I desperately need the Grimes babies to appear in it.

Negan and Maggie -

First of all, this one is for the people who still think Negan can’t/shouldn’t be redeemed, because I am going to just flat out tell you that you’re wrong. I mentioned in a post a couple of weeks ago when episode 23 aired that in the back half of s11 Negan’s intentions are all for the betterment of Annie and his unborn baby. You can tell he wants to be better. He has something to fight for now. Something and someone who can help him be a better man then the one we grew to know when he was introduced.

Maggie’s explanation of how she’ll always perceive him was pretty spot on for a widow who lost her husband in such a brutal way. Masterclass acting from JDM and Lauren, as per usual. She wants to move on and stop hurting. That’s expected. She doesn’t want her son to see that Negan's actions still have a grip on her all these years later. She doesn’t want Hershel to see her be defined by the anger she carries over losing Glenn.

“I’ll never love like that again.”

Yeah. I imagine she won’t. I really enjoyed his redemption arc and her coming to terms with the fact they’re both trying to do better, to move on, to be something better for their kids. To be a good example.

I really enjoyed Negan's arc in particular throughout the course of this season. I just felt it was so poignant. It really showed you who he became through the influences of the people he met after the war with the Saviors. Carl. Michonne. Maggie. Judith. Rick. All these people who were once his enemies ended up teaching him things that he carried years later and will probably carry forever. I just think it was so well executed.

The only quip I have about their spin off is that I really don’t understand how they set this up for them to eventually get to Manhanttan and what they’ll be doing there. Maggie mentioned that it’s time to talk about the future and basically venture out past where the show has taken place, but It’s pretty clear they’ll always be at odds even if they both do manage to move on.

Carol and Daryl -

Melissa McBride smiled so much with her teeth in this episode that it added ten years to my life span, made my pillow cold and made my skin clear. I will never get over how gorgeous Carol is when she’s happy. I was so thrilled that most of the scenes she appears in are with Daryl and Judith because even as someone who doesn’t want to adopt more kids, you just know that Judith is hers and Daryl’s because in some way, they’re going to want to honor Rick and Michonne by doing right by her and RJ.

I know alot of people are going to have mixed reviews about this one. With the two of them basically teetering on the edge of a rift for so long, most of the fans simply just wanted some type of reconciliation after all that happened in s10. Especially in the bonus episodes.

And you know what? We didn’t get it. We got something better.

There’s so much touching in this episode. I’ve mentioned before that Caryl uses touch to ground one another in difficult situations, and it’s everywhere in the finale.

The two I really want to touch on, however, are the last two scenes before Daryl rides off.

Carol and Daryl are seated outside of a lake in the Commonwealth to talk about what happens next, and she’s understandably upset this’ll be the first time they’ve been this far apart like... ever. I’m not counting when Daryl went looking for Rick because he was still in reach. She’s not known life without him for over a decade. It’s completely understandable that she’s hesitant to let him go.

And to be quite fair, I think Daryl is expecting this. But he affirms her with the reminder that it’s not permanent. That they will see each other again and she can count on him coming back to her.

Then the hug. Touch to ground each other during a difficult time. During a farewell. Not a goodbye.

The ugly sobs I made....

Then the scene on the bike. GOOD LORD. I did NOT go into this episode expecting anything conclusive for these two, but an I LOVE YOU was NOT in my bingo card for this episode.

Listen. I don’t care if it’s platonic or romantic. It’s HUGE. I cannot recall a SINGLE time this has been said b/t these two, much less said by one of them to ANOTHER unless it was Carol to Ezekiel, or to Henry and Sophia. I can’t remember off the top of my head. Daryl may have also said it to Judith... but that’s it. That’s IT.

An I LOVE YOU is HUGE for BOTH of them. It’s not one sided. It’s NEVER been one sided.

Am I devastated this left Carol alone? Yes. Am I thrilled she’s alive after spending years thinking she’d finish the show and die in the process? Yes. Am I going to watch the Daryl spin off? No.

While I believe this was a satisfactory ending - Daryl being on the bike makes sense, he’s literally been characterized as a lone wolf from the pilot and spent most of the first several seasons out in the open by himself because it’s where he thrives the most - to some extent, I really am just happy with what we were given. Even if it’s not the way I would’ve done it.

I have hopes for Carol’s story too. I think Melissa is going to come back. Don’t know how or when, but that’s what the fanfic is for.

Rosita -

Truth be told, I never really cared about her. I think Christian Serratos played her well and her development was flawless just like it was for Gabriel and Eugene, but there's one thing about her death I think really stands out from the others.

Most of the deaths on this show are really brutal. Dark. Depressing. Hopeless because you know nothing could’ve been done to change them or because you know if one thing had occurred differently, they’d have lived.

Rosita’s death is very final. She’s okay with it. At peace with it. No matter how much it may break her heart to be leaving behind Coco (WHO LOOKS SO MUCH LIKE HER AND SIDDIQ IT’S RIDICULOUS) she knows her daughter will be raised by someone who loves her and will remind her of where she came from.

The imagery was what got me. The room she dies in is white. All of it. White is pure. White is clean and safe and peaceful.

And it reminded me of this one quote in S3 where Maggie is leaning over Hershel’s body after he gets bit and loses his leg. It is, in my opinion, the most profound line in the whole show.

“If it’s time to go, it’s okay. Be peaceful.”

And I think that line perfectly encapsulates Rosita’s death.

Judith -

Lord. LORD. When Rick left the show, I had no intentions of continuing. I was done. Then they brought Cailey on as Judith and gave me back Carol and that’s why I stuck it through to the end.

Let me tell you... this girl owned this role. OWNED it. I keep forgetting she’s basically a teenager now and has been Judith Grimes for a couple of years, but she grew in this role.

And she aced it. Home run. She carried every single scene she was in and I spent the entire episode with my eyes glued to her because I was so paranoid they were gonna do Judith dirty.

And you know what? They really didn’t. This episode really shows you as the viewer that even though she’s a Grimes - and has been raised in a world that shows no mercy - she’s still a child. A child who just wants to see her mom and dad again.

That broke my heart. What she wants should be so easily attainable, but it’s not.

I think my favorite part of her character from S9 to the end is how much she embodies the people who brought her into the world and raised her. Rick and Michonne. Lori. Carl. All she wants to do is to honor them and it’s so endearing because she’s so young, and she still has so much more to learn but she’s facing that with what she’s learned already from people who aren’t even related to her by blood.

From people who loved her and people she lost and people she will carry on for even if they’re not there to witness it.

The Rest of the Cast -

This is a mess from this point forward, sorry not sorry

- PRINCESS AND MERCER ENDGAME YASSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS

- LUKE’s GIRLS SOBBING OVER HIS BODY MADE ME WEEP HYSTERICALLY THANKS I HATE THE ANGST @ WRITERS

- GABRIEL’S STRUT UP TO THE GATE AND HIS THREAT

- GABRIEL PRAYING OVER ROSITA AS SHE GOES

- GABRIEL GETTING TO BE COCO’S DAD

- EUGENE’S CHARACTER ARC FOR ALL OF S11 WAS SOME GOOD FREAKING FOOD

- EUGENE NAMING HIS BABY ROSIE

- THE DINNER SCENE

- C A R O L SMILING THROUGHOUT THE E N T I R E DINNER SCENE

- DARYL BEING ROSITA’S GUARDIAN ANGEL AS HE WATCHES EVERYONE COME AND GO THROUGH THE DOOR

- DARYL’S F BOMBS

- DARYL’S “WE AIN’T THE WALKING DEAD’’

- THE MONTAGE AT THE END

- ANDREW LINCOLN’S VOICE

- ELEANOR MATSURA

- AND FINALLY: ALL HAIL TO OUR LORD AND SAVIOR BEAR MCCREARY FOR THIS SCORE FOR THIS EPISODE BECAUSE HOLY CRAP DUDE

The Episode Itself -

9/10. All of it. I’m so grateful for what this show has given me over the years and will miss it deeply but I cannot wait for the spin off!

#twd spoilers #twd #the walking dead spoilers

3 notes · View notes

twinkodium · 8 months

Note

my asks are getting longer and longer, i’d like to apologize to all of your followers 😭

aw that’s great! honestly it’s my own fault for choosing to work weekends 😭 usually it’s not too much, only a few hours, but this weekend i’m gonna be busy 9am to 8pm saturday and probably many hours on sunday too… and then i have two weekends of work from 11am on friday to 9pm sunday 😶 lovely

yeah tbh emotions and honesty is more nice the boring pr stuff, but there has to be some kind of rationality. not carlos going off on twitter over nothing 🫣

welllll what can i say…. my probably longest & most expanded like daydream world is one where liam and i have been best friends ever since we were little kids in new zealand… having raced each other ever since forever and we were like always bound to fall in love 🤪 i shouldn’t go into more details but… i may think about it quite often 😶 maybe like every day 😶

i’d say that since oscar isn’t blonde, it means that my feelings for him go even deeper? since it’s not the hair color i usually go for? 😁 okay but about liam and his smile… there maaaay be a fic in my drafts that started off by me having one single thought, that thought being “no smile has ever been more contagious than liam lawson's.” because in my mind it’s true, i don’t care what other people think 🤷‍♀️

the streamer era was lovely, there’s just something about the blonde waves flowing out from under the headphones… and like this? lord help me? the glasses??? 😵 i didn’t include liam in my like intro post bcs i only put current f1/2/3 (just like i didn’t include any other freca drivers, reserve drivers etc)(honestly idk why i did that, not like i won’t write about others…) and i think i’ve mentioned him in like 2 posts before…. trying to stay loyal to osc i guess 🫢 but with liam in f1 idk if i’ll be able to help it…

i have stayed up late & woken up early to try to find a free stream to watch him in japan but it has never worked 🥲 i mean the whole alpha tauri circus is chaotic and the fact that yuki has only taken three points all season does look good for liam… like the bar isn’t super high 🫣 i’d be overjoyed if he got his first points this weekend, but also heartbroken since i can’t watch live, lmao! but my fingers are crossed 🤞

(please i’ve been looking at your reblogs and posts and just giggling to myself for such a long time 😭 truly the power of a pair of good hands! and speaking of hands… i know someone else who’s got pretty alright hands…. 👀)

Omg super long one I LOVE IT 🥰🥰

Don’t your worry about it, small community and they can take it or just unfollow lmao

Why did you such a thing? I would never choose weekends over weekdays 😭 that’s just a crime for real 😭 oh damn you’re going to be knackered after that long shift ☹️ what an awful working schedule tho, depressing 😢

Gimme the emotions and not the dry pr answers I want to see how you really feel! Omg they’re still grilling Carlos for that hahaa

CHILDHOOD FRIENDS TO LOVERS AWWWWW🥹 that’s so cute 🥺 you should write it tho maybe 👀👀 you really should go into details cuz now I’m really invested 😭 you can’t keep me hanging like this cmon! Gotta love all the daydreams haha I have a few too 🫣

Trueee he’s a pretty brunette with oh so soft hair… I want to run my fingers through it, it looks so damn fluffy and soft awwwww BUT I’ve seen an edited pic of Oscar with blonde hair… and let me tell you he could pull it off perfectly 😩😩 ITS TRUE CUZ SAME!!! a draft??? Don’t tease me like that, very interesting now 👀 I see him smile and I smile too, just adorable 🫶🏼

The messy blonde hair stuck under his headphones 😩 him running his fingers through it every damn second… THE TANK TOP HE WORE SOMETIMES🫠🫠🫠 showing off his massive arms…. Especially when he touched his hair….😮‍💨😮‍💨😮‍💨😮‍💨 yeah I loved that era😩😩 same, I don’t have him listed either but maybe next year??👀 ufff Freca.. I gave up on it, I’m overwhelmed with four series already don’t want to get involved to more 😭 having a Liam pfp means you could post about him too 😌 ohhhh so Liam in f1 >>> Oscar in f1?? That’s interesting 🤔

Yeah I got a link for Superformula stream so I try to watch the last round if I don’t forget and I’ll be not dying by sleep deprivation 😂😂😂 cuz my sleeping schedule is the worst! Oh yes! It’s going to be interesting to see how he’s doing in Monza now. But also he beat Yuki no? Okay Yuki had the penalty but also he was right behind him so 👀 and at some point he did have difficulties to switch something on the car and they had to help him explain 😭 fingers crossed 🫶🏼

(Awww nooo way I’ve been noticed by you for a while 🥹🥹🥹 indeed 😮‍💨 ohhhh spill the tea honey 👀👀)

#asks #Jackie 🧡#buttercup 🥰#we’re going all crazy on these asks haha #it’s getting longer and longer 🫶🏼#Liam #Oscar

1 note · View note

thedeathdeelers · 3 years

Text

luke went from “we need you and you need us” to “we need you in the band” to “you make me a better writer, I cant do this without you” to “no music is worth making Julie if we’re not making it with you, no regrets” and somehow some people still think he’s an underdeveloped character who lacks empathy & self awareness

also yknow. juke

#this dude istg #jatp #juke #julie and the phantoms #luke patterson #people somehow judge these characters like they’ve reached peak development and could and should do no wrong #like. they’re kids. in a show. where we won’t always get to see every single minute of them interacting #also they’re human - they’re going to be dumb and sarcastic and make the right AND wrong choices and react badly but then learn from that #which is something we see so clearly #ngl if they didn’t have the sarcastic vibe going on between them (the boys i mean) the friendship and whole brothers vibe wouldn’t be there #for me #what friends aren’t hella sarcastic with each other but then would throw hands as soon as someone else thinks it’s fine to insult their #friend???#anyway i’m going on a rant and idek why #ta-da

218 notes · View notes

gukyi · 3 years

Text

love me or we both go down | kth

summary: after going through with an arranged marriage to please his parents and secure his inheritance of the family business, kim taehyung thinks he’s got it all figured out. he doesn’t. apparently just being married to you isn’t enough, not when everybody and their mother can pick up on the fact that the two of you absolutely loathe each other. but taehyung wants his inheritance one way or another, so he decides that desperate times call for desperate measures: the two of you need to fall in love, and you need to fall in love fast.

{enemies to lovers!au, arranged marriage!au, rich kids!au}

pairing: kim taehyung x female reader genre: fluff, angst, smut (i know, crazy right?) word count: 32k warnings: oral sex (m & f receiving), fingering, penetrative sex, multiple unprotected sex scenes (they’re married y’all), fat cock tae, tae has a wife kink, lots of praise, alcohol consumption (but they’re safe), minor character death (not explicit), mentions of heart attack, slow burn like there is no tomorrow a/n: hello and welcome to the fic everyone, literally everyone, has been waiting for! i am so, so, so excited to share this with you all, especially because none other than rose @kinktae helped me write the smut, and i am literally forever indebted to her. you all better go spam rose with all the love and support you can because this fic would not be here without her and i love her so much.

also, to all my readers who aren’t comfortable reading smut, please know that the smut in this fic is not imperative to the storyline, and you skipping past it will not affect your reading experience., enjoy!

Never in your life have wedding bells felt so ominous.

The sound of them is akin to the sound of strings, of a single piano note in a horror movie, right when the film opens and someone random is about to die on screen for the sake of proving to the audience that this is, in fact, a horror movie. Make no mistake about it; these wedding bells spell doom for you, too. And the most horrific part about them is that just like that poor, helpless soul in the movie, there is no way for you to escape your fate either.

With only seconds left to go before you have no choice but to promise yourself to the man waiting at the other end of the aisle, you desperately try to think of any last-ditch efforts to get out of this. Many, if not all of them, are utterly useless.

Feigning sudden illness won’t work, because then your parents will just reschedule the wedding to a later date. Running away is fruitless. Where will you go? The parking lot?

If only you had a lover out there in the audience somewhere that could object to the marriage when the officiant says, “Speak now, or forever hold your peace.” A knight in shining armor that could whisk you out of the venue and off to a new life, far away from here. Too bad all of the people you’ve dated before hate you now.

Maybe getting married isn’t such a bad thing after all. Instead of having relationships with multiple people who will eventually despise your existence, you only have to have a relationship with one. And the feeling, as has always been, is mutual.

You bristle as your assistants do some last-minute prepping, fixing your sleeve and adjusting your necklace and making sure you don’t trip on your enormous train. They flutter around you like a swarm of well-meaning but ignorant butterflies complicit in the agenda of your family. None of them have said a word to you about the wedding ever since you arrived at the venue, choosing to talk more about things like the weather. Not that you were ever under the impression they had been hired to entertain you. Maybe they were told to not engage you, just in case you try to conspire with them.

As if they could be of any use in your wildly unrealistic escape plans.

The truth is that, unless you were to drop dead on this marble flooring right now, you’re getting married. Whether you like it or not.

The doors open.

You’ve attended red carpets, galas, award shows, and balls. You’ve had hundreds of cameras flashing in your face, the bright light capturing each and every centimeter of you. You’ve had paparazzi waiting outside the restaurants you eat at, the stores you shop at, desperate to catch a picture of you in sweatpants without a drop of makeup on. You’ve been on dates with ex-lovers that looked at you like you were a piece of meat with a credit card. And yet, for some goddamn reason, walking down the aisle in a white dress the size of Pluto, with the rest of your life waiting for you at the other end, makes you feel fucking transparent.

Face resolute, you clutch onto your bouquet so tightly the flowers feel like they’re about to pop right out of your grasp. Determined not to look at anybody in the audience, you stare straight ahead, right into the eyes of your future husband.

Kim Taehyung, for someone you have seen multiple times drunk off his ass with hickies dotting his neck and jawline, cleans up pretty well. For someone getting married, at least. He dons a simple black tuxedo that still probably costs more than the average car, his caramel brown hair is pushed back off his forehead, and his expression is firm and still. He most certainly has had an equally expensive team prepping him, but they haven’t done too bad a job. The silver lining is that he doesn’t look any more thrilled than you are to be doing this, right here, right now. But to his credit, this is definitely the best he’s ever looked, as far as you’re concerned.

When you reach him, he offers his hand out to you, a hand that you only accept for the sake of professionalism. The bouquet in your hands is handed off to one of your bridesmaids, and the two of you take your position at the front. Your train drags along the aisle, draping over the few stairs you had to climb to reach the altar, this satin trail behind you that cements you to the floor. It may as well be a ball-and-chain. It’s about as heavy as one, anyway.

This is the longest you and Taehyung have ever held eye contact. Not that you’re really keeping track of how long the two of you have met each other’s gazes, but if you had to make an educated guess, this would definitely be the victor. Most of the time you end up sneering at each other ten seconds in, but to be fair, those other times you were also not getting married. To one another. In a ceremony attended by hundreds of people. And cameras.

There can be no sneering here.

“Don’t you look nice?” Taehyung whispers, loud enough so only the two of you can hear. He has that drawling, sickly sweet tone to his voice, the one that you hate because it makes him sound like he thinks he’s so much better than everyone else. “Surprised they were able to makeup that scowl off your face.”

This, of course, brings on a hearty scowl only he can see, your backs both facing the rows of attendees. “How much concealer are you wearing to cover up all of the hickies on your neck?” You quip back easily. It’s not like the two of you are going to pretend he doesn’t waltz around at every club or bar or private venue he can find, looking for his next treat.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” Taehyung grins, and if you weren’t standing in front of hundreds of people about to get married, there’s no telling what next you would do.

The two of you would probably go on like that for another ten minutes if it’s not for the officiant, who coughs once he’s ready and opens the book in his hands. Next to you, Taehyung straightens, hands clasped together at his front, and lips pressed into a neat line. You do the same. There will be no giggles, no laughter nor smiles, nor any genuine emotion at this wedding. This is a wedding for the sake of politics, for economics, for security, and anyone in attendance would be a fool to think otherwise. Especially you.

“Ladies and gentlemen, family and friends, loved ones, and esteemed guests,” the officiant bellows, listing off as many groups of people as he possibly can in an effort to both include and compliment every person in the audience, “We are gathered here to celebrate the wedding, and future life, of Taehyung and Y/N…”

Taehyung turns to you, grinning in that god-awful way, the way he does when he feels like he’s got something over you. And sure, you can’t think of any punishment quite as bad as this, but what’s Taehyung got to smile about? He’s marrying himself off to a woman he hates, kissing goodbye his days as a free-spirited, heartbreaking bachelor, and promising what may very well be the rest of his life to loving you. That is not cause for celebration.

But perhaps, to him, your suffering is enough to bring a smile to his face.

Your vows are, to put it simply, total bullshit. Your family hired someone to write yours and there’s not a doubt in your mind that his family did the same thing. This nonsense talk, this complete and utter garbage that spews from your perfectly-glossed lips, shit about how you promise to love each other until the end of your days, how you promise to take care of each other when you’re sick and accompany each other at every event, every gala, every ball. Shit about how you promise to look only at each other, promise to uphold your family traditions and become a dependable spouse.

The words don’t belong to you. But the thing is that this marriage was never yours anyway.

When the kiss comes, there’s a part of you that thinks maybe you should have psyched yourself up a little more for this. When Taehyung pulls you in, placing a stiff hand on your lower back as he brings you towards his chest, your stomach turns and shivers run down your spine. The feeling of his hand on your body, the breath from his lips brushing against your own, are enough to keep you frozen in place.

He smiles at you, almost as if to ask, “Are you ready?”

And you squeeze your eyes shut, almost as if to respond, “Let’s do this.”

When his lips meet yours, there is almost nothing. Nothing runs through you, nothing explodes, nothing strikes. But when he pulls away and cheers and applause rings out throughout the room, there is something. A little heat, a remnant of a flame, left on your lips. A little sting, just to remind you it happened.

The entire hall is cheering but nothing about this is worth celebrating. The fact of the matter is that you and Taehyung will never love each other the way that you are supposed to.

“Ugh, finally.”

The elevator doors haven’t even properly opened by the time Taehyung is loosening his tie, tugging it off over his head as he stretches his head back and runs a hand through his perfectly-styled hair. As he rakes his fingers through his caramel locks, the hairspray and gel loosens, strands falling down by the side of his face, framing his temple.

“Don’t sound so relieved,” you huff out, deciding now is as good a time as any to start getting undressed yourself. Reaching down to lift up the hem of your reception dress, you tug off your heels, already feeling lighter on your feet. Who cares if Taehyung is watching you pull off your stilettos like a defeated movie heroine? You don’t think you can walk another step in those shoes. “We still have to live together, you know.”

“Don’t remind me,” Taehyung says gruffly, brushing by you roughly as he stomps out of the elevator. “I’m just glad the fucking night is over. I swear, seeing that fake-ass smile on your face made me want to gouge my eyes out.”

You storm after him, refusing to be the helpless damsel in this situation. “Oh, like you didn’t also have that exact same fake-ass smile on your face. It almost made me think you were actually enjoying yourself tonight.”

“I was only enjoying the fact that I know you hate this just as much as I do.” It’s perhaps the only thing you will ever be able to empathize with him on. Mutually relishing in the other’s destruction. Taehyung fumbles with the keypad to the door to the penthouse for a moment before you hear the lock click, the door sliding open as the entrance lights flicker on.

The reason Taehyung’s penthouse is so clean is because he’s never lived here before. Neither of you have—Taehyung’s parents bought it just for the two of you. And as much as you absolutely despise the idea of having to live with him, at least it was not you who paid for your place of residence.

You can tell Taehyung’s never lived here before because it’s actually quite nicely decorated inside. The ceilings are high and the sleek velvet curtains are pulled open, revealing a shimmering skyline. The furniture is modern and functional, and the whole damn place smells brand new. You’ve had the unfortunate pleasure of entering the place Taehyung lived in before now, and it looked nothing like this. The furniture was worn and stained despite the live-in maid, the house reeked of five hundred different spices that wafted from the kitchen to the living room, and the bookshelves were covered with comics, graphic novels, and old textbooks.

If it weren’t for the fact that you and Taehyung are rich kids in their twenties that hate each other, you might have actually thought the place looked… homey.

You don’t have time to be impressed by the interior design and architecture skills of whoever designed this place. Right now, all you can think about is tugging yourself out of your airtight reception dress and passing out on the nearest bed. Which, hopefully, will be as far away as possible from Taehyung’s bed of choice.

“How many bedrooms does this place have?” You ask, shimmying along the floor so you don’t trip over the hem of your dress. From the looks of it, you can see one giant hallway to your right and a massive, double-sided staircase leading up.

“Enough,” Taehyung grumbles in response. The hazy stupor from all of the fancy champagne is starting to wear off for the both of you, leaving behind two grouchy, begrudgingly-married individuals who want absolutely nothing to do with each other and have no problems making that known. Whatever golden light of the evening that was making Taehyung at least a little bit more attractive than usual has faded, and now you see him for what he really is: an unceremoniously tired man in a suit. “You want upstairs or down?”

You gaze up at the marble staircase in front of you, then back down at your too-long dress. “Down.” The last thing you want is to trip in front of the man you have to see, every day, for the rest of your life.

“Fine by me.” Taehyung’s halfway up the stairs by the time he turns back around to say something else. “I’ll see you tomorrow, I guess?”

“Yeah.” There’s no point in being hostile now. The both of you are too exhausted to mean anything by it. Besides, what else can you say? Everything to complain about has already been complained about. At least the two of you managed to wrestle out from your parents the stipulation that you would not be going on a honeymoon together. Now that would have been your worst nightmare. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

It’s as good of a goodnight either of you are going to get. Taehyung heads up the stairs and disappears around a corner, and you start wandering down the hallway. All the bedrooms look the exact same other than different colors on the walls and bedsheets, but they all look serviceable to you. Clean. Empty. Far away from wherever Taehyung is.

You pick the one at the very end of the hall just to be as much of a diva as possible, and don’t even bother drawing the curtains before tugging off your dress. It’s past one in the morning, and you’re so high up you don’t think anyone will be able to see you anyway. By the time you’ve stripped naked and are tugging up the too-tight sheets tucked into the mattress, your legs are about to give out beneath you. The bed could be made of rocks for all you care. Anything to lie down on is fine by you.

Sleep comes fairly easily to you tonight. Once your head hits the pillow you can already feel yourself drifting off, eyelids fluttering shut, but you don’t sleep quite yet. Not before you can think about how this is your life now, sleeping in a foreign bed in a foreign place with a foreign husband upstairs. This is what you will be living in now. Now and forever.

Living with Taehyung is, in both the best and worst ways possible, like living with a roommate that doesn’t give a shit about the fact that they live with another person. It’s good, because you and Taehyung hardly see each other and speak even less, which was pretty much the only thing you were asking for when it came to living with him. But it also sucks, because whenever you do happen to cross paths, Taehyung acts like you don’t exist, barely sparing you a hello or even that tight-lipped smile you send to drivers on the road when they let you cross the street.

Not that the two of you ever engaged in energetic conversation before you got married. But at least the two of you would acknowledge each other, even if only to shoot a glare and a scowl the other’s way from opposite sides of a hotel ballroom. Maybe it’s just because it’s him, but you did always find yourself actually relishing in those little interactions with Taehyung. In this strange, twisted way, it seemed to provide some sort of continuity to your ever-changing life. Like no matter what happened, at least you would know that the two of you would always despise each other.

To be frank, right now you’re not sure if Taehyung even remembers he got married at all.

Nights have been a lot more sleepless since your wedding day. After two weeks, the reality of it has finally started to settle in. This is your life now. And ever since you realized that, your bed has felt much less comfortable.

“But the place is nice, right?”

You look around the living room from where you’re sat on the sleek, white suede leather couch, eyes glossing over the bookshelves, the floor-to-ceiling windows, the draping velvet curtains. From here, you can see the entire city skyline, flecks of gold from the windows of skyscrapers against a navy blue background. Slowly, as the moon creeps over the sky and the clock gets later and later, those lights will soon begin to flicker off, one by one.

“Yeah, it’s not bad.” Nothing to write home about. That is, if home were a place other than here.

“That’s good. At least you don’t live in, like, a total dump or anything,” Victoria says on the other end of the line. “How’s Taehyung?”

His name alone elicits this deeply-exhausted sigh from your lips, like it’s been ten years since you married and every day has felt worse than the last. “Fine.” You can’t really complain about anything yet, considering that you hardly ever see the man.

“Just ‘fine’?” Victoria sounds skeptical.

“Yeah,” you draw out the word, as if trying to convince yourself of its truth. “I mean, it’s like he doesn’t even live here. I barely see him. And when I do, we don’t even speak to each other.”

“That’s good though, isn’t it? You hate him.” Victoria says it like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. And in a sense, it kind of is.

“I mean…”

“I know that your life hasn’t exactly… gone the way you had planned, but isn’t this your best case scenario when considering everything?” She asks. “If Taehyung is as distant as you say he is, isn’t it almost like you never married him in the first place?”

As if on cue, you hear footsteps coming down the stairs, heels clicking on the marble as they make their way to the entrance. You whip your head around to find Taehyung, all dressed up in loose, flowy slacks and a flowery silk button-down, strolling down the staircase as he scrolls through his phone, paying you zero attention whatsoever.

He notices you briefly when he reaches the bottom, meeting your eyes with his own. He offers this measly, unenthused half-smile your way before he grabs his wallet and some house keys from the table by the entrance, opens the door, and vanishes off into the night.

If you hadn’t been in the living room, you probably wouldn’t have even realized he left. Not that you being present as he’s planning on leaving would have stopped him anyway. This is the sixth night he’s done this in the past two weeks. You could stand by the door and stare him down as he emerges from his bedroom, all dressed up for something you’re definitely not invited to, and he would offer you that same goddamn smile and walk out the door without even blinking. Who he was before you got married and who he is now are no different. Not even a ring could change that.

“I guess,” you tell Victoria. At least Taehyung hasn’t turned into a helicopter husband. “I don’t know. Maybe I just wish that I didn’t have to deal with him at all.”

Wish you could turn back time. Wish you could worm your way out of an arranged marriage before it was too late. Wish you could go back to the way things used to be.

You and Victoria talk for another couple of minutes before she regretfully has to end the call, citing both her beauty sleep and an 8AM meeting tomorrow morning as her reasons for hanging up. The moment you put the phone down, you sink back into the couch cushions, staring out the windows at the world below you.

Here’s the deal. What Taehyung does in his free time is none of your business. But also, it’s totally your business, because you are his spouse. A spouse who is an equal amount in the public eye as he is. What he does and does not do has a direct impact on what you do and do not do.

It’s no secret that when you catch Taehyung sauntering down the stairs looking like a Gucci runway model, it’s not because he’s planning on catching a movie with a college friend and then playing video games for four hours on a couch in a basement. He is going out. To clubs, to parties, to exclusive events that he’s been invited to by his equally-rich friends, all of whom are acting like he’s the same bachelor he’s always been.

And maybe that’s the real problem with your whole marriage—other than the glaringly obvious issue that it’s a marriage wholly unwanted by the two parties involved in it. Despite the ring on his finger, Taehyung is going out and pretending that nothing in his life has changed while you’re trapped at home, desperate to save you and your family’s reputation by keeping as low a profile as possible. You would give anything to march around the city all day, flashing middle fingers at paparazzi as you shop at your favorite high-end stores and frequent your favorite clubs. But you can’t, because your family’s fortune and influence is on the line.

And apparently, Taehyung’s isn’t.

It sort of makes you wonder why it was even Taehyung you ended up marrying anyway. His family isn’t any richer or more powerful than yours. Your spheres have always been sufficiently separate. What was it about him, and perhaps more importantly, his family that drew your parent’s eye? And what was it about marrying you that prevented him from saying no? Money? Prestige? Influence?

You suppose you’ll never know. But whatever mystical force that convinced Taehyung to agree to this must not be as important to him as your reasoning is to you, because it’s become exceedingly apparent that Taehyung does not care that he’s married. He doesn’t care about the ring on his finger, he doesn’t care about his public image, and he most certainly doesn’t care about you.

Perhaps you were naive for thinking this, but you actually believed marriage might tone him down a little. Might age him into a real adult with real world obligations. Instead, it’s only given you a firsthand look into who Kim Taehyung has been and always will be: a selfish rich kid.

You don’t bother waiting around in the living room until he gets back, but you are still awake by the time you hear the door creak open. Taehyung makes no efforts to hide his return. You can hear him chattering loudly on the phone as he stumbles up the stairs, can tell from his gait alone that he is most certainly wasted. You don’t want to know what he did tonight. You’ll probably be able to figure it out anyway when you wake up tomorrow morning and check your social media.

What were you thinking, marrying him? That he would change? That he would suddenly become someone that you could rely on? You had no choice when you said, “I do,” but you were at least hoping that maybe one day, one day in a long, long time, the two of you would finally see eye to eye. Maybe there would even come a time when you would genuinely love him. How foolish.

You close your eyes and try to imagine a world where you have married someone you love, someone who loves you back.

Not unlike the many nights preceding it, tonight is sleepless.

Unlike your marital status and general disposition, one thing that hasn’t changed about you is your love for extravagant events. Call you conceited, but there is something so much fun about putting on a fancy, expensive dress that you love and getting your hair and makeup done before going to an exclusive gala and posing in front of five hundred cameras.

Actually, now that you think about it, maybe your wedding could have actually been pretty good, considering it let you do all those things. It’s a real shame there happened to be a storm cloud in the form of Kim Taehyung there to ruin it. Otherwise, you think you would have rather enjoyed that day.

Tonight is the first event since your marriage where you and Taehyung are both required to show up and act like a happy married couple. Which would probably be a lot easier if you and Taehyung had exchanged more than ten words over the past two weeks. Maybe it was wishful thinking, but there was a part of you that thought you could use your arranged marriage to actually cultivate some sort of meaningful relationship between the two of you. So events like these wouldn’t be such a drain on both of you.

When Kim Taehyung comes down the stairs, he actually doesn’t look too bad. You don’t know why this sort of thing keeps catching you off guard—like you don’t expect him to look that good whenever you see him. The problem is that you can’t even chalk up the surprise to him wearing tailored clothes or having his hair done. He just looks… good.

Well, you suppose you do have to look at him every day for the rest of your life. It’s a good thing he’s attractive. At least he’s not sore on the eyes.

Taehyung and his unfortunate attractiveness aside, the two of you don’t say a word to each other as you join up at the entrance, grabbing any last-minute items like house keys, chapstick, and whatever dignity you have left to spare. You send forced smiles and tight nods each other’s way in the elevator, staring straight ahead in the lobby of your building as the car pulls up to the front door.

By the time the two of you sit down in the back of the limousine, the built-up tension between the two of you is so thick you’re almost positive that even the chauffeur can feel it through the closed partition.

If you were any more idyllic, you’d probably spend the drive over to the gala staring out the window and imagining yourself in a different life, on a train to nowhere, flowers in your hair and a journal in your hands. Or perhaps you’d be the CEO of your family’s company instead of having that responsibility passed down to a husband you don’t even want, sitting in an office at the top of a skyscraper overlooking the city. Anything. Anything but this.

But the idyllic part of you died when you realized that fantasies like that are nothing but distractions and that daydreams are for romantics and optimists and losers.

“What’s our plan for tonight?”

Taehyung scoffs. “What do you mean, ‘what’s our plan’?”

You frown. “Well, we’re married, so we at least have to act like it, don’t you think?”

“Isn’t standing there and smiling enough?” Taehyung asks, an unimpressed eyebrow raised.

You bristle. Maybe that sufficed for your wedding, but there was so much going on it was easy to distract yourself from the gravity of it all. But this event is not about you. It’s not even about either of your families. It’s about someone the two of you are, at best, distantly connected to, through work, through fame, through power. Which means that though the focus will not be on you, there will still be eyes looking your way. Eyes watching your every move.

“Do you think it will be?” You challenge. Doesn’t Taehyung realize that things are different now?

Taehyung’s lips curl downwards. “What do you expect us to do, shower each other in kisses? We don’t even sleep on the same fucking floor.”

“Maybe I just expected you to act less like a stranger and more like a husband!”

Taehyung sighs. “Don’t.” The word is clipped, short. “Don’t tell me you actually want to be married.”

“I don’t.” It’s a response that you hardly have to think twice about. “But we are, and nothing can change that.” Unfortunately. But it’s a fact that you and Taehyung have both had to grapple with over the past few weeks, and it’s becoming increasingly obvious that you are more aware of it than he is. If Taehyung could have his way, he would ignore you for the rest of his life and keep partying with the rest of his bachelor friends until he keeled over and died.

He huffs next to you, eyes staring straight ahead. You don’t think the two of you have met each other’s eyes in a week. Maybe more. They’re starting to feel as soulless as your marriage itself. “Whatever. What do you want me to do?”

“What do you think?” You cross your arms over your chest. “Just act like you don’t hate me. Can you do that?” The way Taehyung’s behaving right now, you expect that will be a challenge for the both of you.

“Only if you can. I’ll even hold your hand to prove that we love each other.”

“Fine.”

The idea of holding Taehyung’s hand makes you want to implode. The mere thought sends shivers down your spine. But it’s better than nothing, and that’s good enough for you. At least you won’t have to kiss.

The rest of the ride there is silent. You drive to this gorgeous mansion just outside the city, bathed in lights hidden amongst the bushes, illuminating both the architecture and the enormous fountain that sits in front of it. In a house this size, you imagine you could probably go your whole life without ever having to come across Taehyung. It actually makes you consider investing in a home that big.

Taehyung helps you out of the back of the limousine, a cold hand clasping your own as you rest your palm against his. You can feel the way his fingers hesitate as yours make to intertwine with his as you walk towards the entrance, smiling at whatever camera flashes you encounter on your way. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think you were holding hands with a ghost.

The moment you step inside and are ushered out of the door’s view, Taehyung’s grip relaxes on yours. For a moment, you think he’ll actually spend the rest of the night like this, a gentle hand wrapped around yours, but then he pulls it away entirely and shoves it back into his pocket. Oh. You frown quietly to yourself. So that’s how tonight’s going to go.

You don’t make an effort to reach out towards him again.

For an event concerning people you don’t know a damn thing about, everyone sure seems to know things about you. Other than greetings, you don’t think anyone’s said anything to you about anything other than your recent marriage to Taehyung. Every conversation is punctuated by a Congratulations! you do not feel that you have at all earned, considering you and Taehyung could barely look at each other on the way here.

Maybe Taehyung was right. All you really can do is stand there and smile.

“Oh, don’t tell me… Y/N, is that you?”

The champagne swirls around in the flute between your fingers as you turn towards the sound of your name, looking up to see a familiar face headed your way.

Kim Seokjin is nice enough. He’s terribly handsome and got a flawless smile, but you know better than to trust those pearly whites of his. The sight of him alone is enough to make your body tense up. There was a reason you had explicitly told your parents not to invite him to your wedding.

“Seokjin, what a surprise to see you here,” you say, forcing a smile. “I thought you were supposed to be in Switzerland right now.”

“Change of plans,” Seokjin grins back in that awful, awful way, the kind of grin that makes you feel like he’s looking right through you. “I came back early. It’s a shame, though, I missed your wedding.”

You shrug. “It was a humble affair.” It wasn’t. And you’re positive that Seokjin knows it wasn’t an accident that you didn’t extend an invitation to him or his family.

“Ah, I see,” Seokjin says, nodding his head. He turns to Taehyung next to you, who is making no effort to hide how wholly uninterested in this conversation he is, and holds out a hand. “You must be Kim Taehyung, then. I’m Kim Seokjin. Congratulations on your wedding.”

Taehyung shakes his hand firmly, the air between the three of you growing unbearably palpable.

“Seokjin’s father is the VP of News Daily,” You explain, eyebrows raised as you try to signal to Taehyung what exactly it means when Seokjin is speaking to the two of you. “And his mother is a popular journalist for the city’s post.”

Seokjin grew up in the world of media, and it seems he’s picked up his parent’s affinity for sticking their noses in places they don’t belong. You know he’s not talking to the both of you out of the goodness of his heart.

Seokjin laughs, his hand waving away the mention of his parents. “Oh, please. That’s them. I’m just a bored socialite like the rest of you.”

You resist the urge to scoff.

“Marriage treating the two of you well?” He changes the subject to what he really wants to talk about: you.

“Of course,” you say quickly, preventing any hesitation on your end. Your empty hand reaches towards Taehyung’s, fingers searching for his between the two of you. But his refusal to join hands does not go unnoticed by you nor Seokjin, who is eyeing the space between your bodies with an eyebrow raised. “It’s just been—well, it’s just been difficult to adjust to a new life. That’s all.”

If you were to describe the face of a non-believer, it would be the exact expression on Seokjin’s face. “Perfectly understandable,” he says, that same toothy smile lacing his features. “But it must be nice, you know, to marry someone you love.”

“I couldn’t be happier,” you say, almost challenging Seokjin to say something even more inflammatory. He must know that all you’re trying to do at this point is save face. Love? Ha! As if.

“And Taehyung?” Seokjin motions to your husband.

You can feel the way Taehyung is stiffening beside you. “I suppose we are both lucky and unlucky in many ways when it comes to who we love.”

It’s enough of an answer to get Seokjin off your tail. For now. He bids the two of you a tense goodbye before sauntering off to go poke his nose in someone else’s business, fish for drama, a thread of a rumor he can pick apart with nimble fingers. You wonder if anybody actually likes him.

The moment he disappears from earshot, you grab Taehyung’s wrist tightly and pull him close to you. “What the hell was that?” You hiss into his ear.

“What?” You can’t tell if he’s playing dumb or if he really is that dense.

“You!” You exclaim. “Kim Seokjin is the one person who could easily expose how fake this marriage is and you pull away from me? Right in front of him? You can’t even hold my hand for two seconds, that’s how much you hate me?”

“Who cares what he thinks?” Taehyung says. “He’s just another media rat. No one will even remember we were here tomorrow.”

“But if you keep acting like this, people will start to notice! Why can’t you just act like you don’t hate me, for one night? Is that so bad? Is it that torturous, to spend one night with me?”

“Do not turn this on me,” Taehyung orders harshly. “You’re making a scene. Come on.”

You don’t have time to shout at him for bossing you around like you’re a toddler throwing a tantrum before he drags you out of the venue, the two of you finding a back door to the building that leads outside. The cold air blows against your body, goosebumps popping up against your skin, but you find that the chilly night provides quite the respite after practically overheating indoors. Taehyung makes fire rush through your veins but at least the air can cool you back down.

Nevertheless, your conversation is not over. It’s just been moved to a more private location.

“You do realize that our marriage isn’t going to suddenly go away, right? That we’re going to have to keep doing this for the rest of our lives?” You remind him, eyebrows raised. There’s a part of you that genuinely thinks he’s completely forgotten that your marriage is permanent.

“Oh, and not holding hands for five minutes for this one event is totally going to change the course of our lives, isn’t it?” Taehyung fights back.

“Don’t act like you did the right thing,” you spit out. “You don’t have to pretend in front of me. I know you don’t give a shit about our marriage.”

“What marriage is there to even give a shit about? Just because we had a wedding and signed some documents does not mean there is a real marriage between us. Look at us,” he motions between the two of you like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “We hate each other. Is this what you would call marriage?”

“But at least I’m trying to get past that!” You exclaim. “You make it seem like being as miserable as possible is some sort of badge of honor. Do you actually want to spend the rest of your life hating the person you married? Or do you want to grow up and try and move on?”

Taehyung frowns. “What I want is for the person I married to stop acting like they’re doing me such a huge favor by pretending to care about us. Especially when all they really care about is their family’s goddamn reputation.”

“No,” you tell him sternly. You are doing him a favor. He just can’t admit that he actually needs help from you. “You are putting zero effort into this. What am I supposed to do?”

“Let it go!” Taehyung shouts. “Maybe one day we’ll actually start getting along, but right now it’s obvious that neither one of us can stand the other. I don’t need you to do favors for me. I can handle it myself.”

You look away, rolling your eyes. “Doesn’t look like it to me,” you mutter to yourself.

Taehyung cracks. “Fine. You want me to pretend that I actually care about us? I will.” Thank God. Maybe now the two of you will finally start seeing eye-to-eye. “But make no mistake about how I feel about you,” he spits. “Getting married to you ruined my life.”

You stare straight at him and his eyes are swirling, so obscured in the darkness of the night that you might even think he doesn’t have a soul at all. His pupils bore into yours and for once, for once in your goddamn life, after so many years of staring each other down at debutante balls, so many years of witty refrains and snarky insults hurled each other’s way, it feels like the two of you might actually snap.

Then, a camera flashes.

Trouble in Paradise! would be a suitable title for the front page of the city’s biggest tabloid… if anything about your life with Taehyung could be considered paradise. Unfortunately for the both of you, that is not the case.

You don’t need to keep reading the rest of the trashy article on the front page of the daily tabloid to know how much trouble you’re in, nor do you even have time to scroll beneath the terrible photo of you and Taehyung literally shouting at each other before you hear your phone ring.

You don’t even bother saying hello to whoever’s on the other end. You know it’ll go in one ear and out the other.

“I assume you know why I’m calling,” your mother’s harsh tone spits from the other end of the phone. There’s no doubt in your mind that she’s standing in the middle of her office, snapping her fingers at her fifteen secretaries as they partake in the worst damage control your family’s had to deal with since your cousin two years ago was caught with a mistress outside a high-profile restaurant.

“Can I take a wild guess?” You’re about to be scolded into the next century, so you might as well enjoy your last few moments.

“Don’t get cheeky with me,” your mother warns. “Care to explain why you and your beloved husband made the front page of the Daily Post today?”

“I know,” you sigh, a hand coming up to rub at your temples. It’s eight in the morning, you’ve barely looked at your phone, and you haven’t even brushed your teeth yet. It feels like you’re still asleep, and most certainly lack the energy to deal with this right now.

Your mother, on the other hand, thinks otherwise. “You know? You know, and you still go out and do this? For everyone to see?”

“We tried to take our argument outside,” you begin to explain, but your mother isn’t having a single word of it.

“The fact that you thought it was even appropriate to have an argument in a public setting at all astounds me, Y/N. We raised you better than that.” There’s no need for you to even see her face. You’ve grown so used to that disappointed frown over the years that it’s burned into your brain.

“Maybe you should have thought about that before marrying me off to a man I barely know so I could be someone else’s problem instead of yours,” you bite.

“We did this for your own good,” she hisses back. “You are married because we love you, and we want you to succeed outside of this family.”

“Then why do you care what the tabloids print about me?”

“Because being married does not mean you are no longer a part of this family,” your mother informs you sternly, lips smacking together. “Your marriage reflects on all of us, and you know that. What will people think of us when they see how terribly behaved you are?”

“Everyone acts like that, and you know it.” How could your mother preach good behavior when everyone, everyone you know, is just as spoiled and entitled as you? There’s no such thing as being altruistic when it comes to people like you. Being genuine, and good, and pure—that will get you ruined.

You can hear her breathing into the phone when your mother responds, “But not in public, and that is the point. We expect better from you.”

“If you were so worried about me behaving so badly, then why did you even marry me off anyway? You knew that I didn’t want to. What did you think would happen?” It’s a question you wouldn’t have dared ask three months ago. Hell, even a year ago, when it was first revealed you were to be engaged, you wouldn’t have dared open your lips. But things are different now. You’re married to a man that hates you just as much as you hate him. He is making no effort to improve your relationship and seems hellbent on despising you forever. There is no way to get out of it. And if your parents really foresaw all of that, then what was the point in the first place?

“Your grandmother.”

Your mouth shuts.

“You know she wanted to see you married before she passed,” your mother says, words clipped and biting and harsh. “She cares about you. She wanted to make sure you’d be taken care of.”

“I don’t need anyone to take care of me,” you mutter to yourself like a petulant child. In a way, you sort of are.

“If you want to stay in her will, I suggest you change that mindset.”

You freeze in your tracks. The will?

“Is that a threat?” You ask, positively dumbfounded. Are you being coerced into staying in this marriage because of your grandmother’s will?

You can hear your mother laugh, that muted, knowing chuckle of hers. “It was the deal all along, remember?”

Vaguely, you do. You remember fighting your parents tooth and nail over getting married until your grandmother revealed it was her dream to see you wed. You remember the look on her old, wrinkled face, that soft, sad smile that said she knew she didn’t have much time left. You remember agreeing, because how could you deny her? You remember her promising to remember what you’re doing for her.

“You’re kidding.”

“I’m not.”

“But—”

“That’s the end of this conversation, Y/N. You fix things with your husband or you’re out of her will. She’s made that clear. I expect you’ll make the right choice.”

She hangs up.

Well.

There are a lot of ways to describe how you’re currently feeling, and you most certainly had an expensive education that would provide you with plenty of the vocabulary, but you think the most appropriate words for the current situation would be: you’re fucked.

At least the feeling is mutual.

Hardly two minutes after your mother’s brutal phone call, Taehyung comes storming down the stairs, hair still mussed from the night prior, his own phone clenched tightly between is fingers. Even from where you stand in the middle of the living room, you can see the way his eyes are glinting with anger, the veins popping out from his skin.

“I just got off the phone with my parents,” Taehyung begins, not even bothering to spare a ‘good morning’ your way, “and they are fucking furious about last night.”

You shrug. “Join the club,” you mutter, arms crossed in front of you. What, does Taehyung really think you got off scot-free?

“Don’t act like this means nothing to you,” Taehyung says as he approaches you, footsteps calm despite his demeanor being anything but. “You’re the one who’s so obsessed with keeping up their family’s perfect reputation. You’re the reason we’re even in this mess in the first place.”

“What do you mean, ‘I’m the reason’?” You ask, astounded. Like he’s totally absolved of all blame and just an innocent third party. “You are the reason we went outside. You are the reason we had that argument, because you refuse to accept the fact that we’re actually married and there’s nothing we can do about it.”

“Right, because holding hands is really gonna show all those people how in love we are. I bet your parents are so thrilled right now.” Taehyung drawls.

“It’s a start!” You shriek. “God, you’re just so—so infuriating! You can’t accept that this was your fault, too. You just have to turn everything against me and you always, always have to get the last word. It’s like you think you’ll die if you don’t.”

“Like you’re any better,” Taehyung huffs back. “You think I’m the villain because I don’t want to pretend to be in love with someone I’m not in love with. You act like us not holding hands is going to ruin our lives. It was one event! One! It’s obvious we hate each other, so why even try?”

“What, do you expect me to just sit around and do nothing? To act like everything’s fine? Like I’m happy?” As if. This marriage is the worst thing that’s ever happened to you. “While you prance around the city with your rich boy friends, going out to clubs and parties and pretending that I don’t exist? Is that what you expect from me?”

Taehyung laughs, this loud, disbelieving sort of noise, like he’s never heard such nonsense before. “Just because we’re married doesn’t mean the rest of my life has to change. Am I not allowed to enjoy myself with my friends? Or are you determined to keep me chained to your side for the rest of our lives?”

“What I want,” you punctuate every word, “is for you to stop acting like you haven’t got stakes in this, too. You think I don’t know how your family works? What being married to me means for you? Because I do. And I know that if we were to divorce, it would be you who would get the short end of the stick. Make no mistake.”

That’s enough to shut Taehyung up for a good few seconds. And it shuts him up, because he knows it’s true. Taehyung’s family may have a little more money, a little more power than yours, but you’ve got a family intimately more connected with the media. One phone call and Taehyung may have a rather messy, rather public breakup to deal with.

“You wouldn’t,” he says, calling your bluff.

“Are you sure about that?” You say, sticking your ground. You would never really divorce him, of course, but he doesn’t need to know that.

“I am,” Taehyung says firmly. “Don’t think I don’t know what being married to me is in it for you. What is it? Money? Power? Your father’s CEO position?”

“That’s none of your business,” you snap quickly. Maybe you’re more transparent than you thought. Bristling, you straighten your shoulders and turn back to meet his eyes. “Regardless, it seems we both have a reason to stay in this marriage.”

“It seems we do,” Taehyung agrees with a thin, contained smile. “Then I suppose we can reach some sort of agreement.”

“As in…?” Your interest in piqued.

“I’ll stop going out with my friends if you stop picking fights with me all the time,” he says economically, like he’s killing two birds with one stone.

“Only if you agree to also act more like my husband when we’re in public,” you tack on, because you just can’t settle for anything less.

“Public only,” Taehyung specifies.

You scoff. “Like I’d even want to pretend to be your wife when we’re in private.”

“Good. It seems we’ve come to a deal.”

“What’s in this for you, huh?” You prod, just to be annoying. Taehyung’s right. There’s a reason you’re not divorcing him the second you get the chance. But there must be a reason why he’s not doing the same thing.

“Does it matter?” He challenges, a single eyebrow raised. “My life is just as awful as yours.”

Fair enough.

“Do we have a deal?” Taehyung asks, holding out his hand, that sneaky, devilish grin lacing his features.

Taking his hand in yours and grasping it firmly is the easiest decision in the world. His palm presses against your own, hot hand meeting your cold skin, and it feels like the two of you are finally finding some sort of balance. You look up into his eyes, burn your gaze into his pupils, watch them glint in the white ceiling light of the living room.

“Deal.”

For two people raised on the values of reading the fine print and making educated choices when it comes to business deals, you and Taehyung sure haven’t worked out any of the intricacies of the deal the two of you agreed to. Unlike those business deals your parents constantly agreed to, however, knowing all of the stipulations and provisions of your strange, strange agreement with Taehyung may prove more harmful than helpful.

Like right now.

“Wait, we don’t have to be by each other’s side the whole night, do we?” Taehyung asks you, eyebrows furrowed in a knot, as you sit in the back of a big, black van on your way to a mutual friend’s twenty-first birthday bash.

“There are going to be a lot of cameras there,” you respond.

“Yeah, outside the entrance to the damn club. You know they won’t be allowed in, so who cares?” Taehyung rebukes.

You huff out a little sigh, not wanting to get into an argument when you’re literally minutes away from your first public appearance since the whole tabloid debacle from three weeks ago. You and Taehyung could both do with being a bit more relaxed than you normally are when you’re around each other.

“Hasn’t Clarissa invited hundreds of people? They’ll all notice if we aren’t together,” you remind pointedly. The girl whose birthday party you are attending is an heiress who grew up on the money of two people with a monopoly over the current artificial intelligence market and has millions of followers on social media. There will be notable people there. And people will know the two of you, as well.

Taehyung rolls his eyes. “That’s the point, Y/N. There’ll be so many people, no one will even care. It’s her twenty-first birthday. Do you think people are going to be sober?”

You purse your lips together. He’s got a point. “How about when we are together, we hold hands. But if you see a friend or something then feel free to say hi.” Taehyung can be afforded that luxury. Especially because the chances of him not bumping into someone he knows is exceedingly low anyway.

Taehyung nods in agreement. “You too. But I won’t leave you unless I know you’re with someone you’re close with.”

“You don’t have to stay, I’ll be fine,” you say with a small chuckle. What, is Taehyung suddenly worried, or something?

“Yeah, but it would be in bad taste if I left you with someone you didn’t know well. Or alone. Just wanna make sure you’re taken care of.” He shrugs nonchalantly, turning back to look out of the window on his side of the car.

“Okay.”

You don’t really have anything else to say to that. You’re sure you can handle yourself if you’re left alone for a few minutes while Taehyung says hi, but you actually find yourself rather appreciative of his resolve to look after you. Or, at least, make sure someone else is looking after you. It’s quite… chivalrous. Strikingly out of character for the Taehyung you’ve become well-acquainted with over the past couple of months.

By the time you arrive, it’s obvious that Taehyung was right about there being so many people you two practically don’t even exist. Other than the herds of camera crews waiting outside the joint, photographing everyone that steps out of a black car to see what they’re wearing and who they’ve come with, no one seems to be paying you any attention. And in a way, that sort of nonexistence, that anonymity, it’s refreshing. Your entire life you’ve felt like all eyes were on you, like there was constantly a spotlight above your head, but here, the party centers around someone else.

Despite that fact, Taehyung keeps his promise. He keeps himself pressed closely against you when there’s not enough space for you two to stand side by side, and he makes sure to have a hand gently intertwined with your own as you weave your way through the dozens of bodies in the room. He doesn’t say anything, of course, always looking up and forward instead of beside him, where you stand, but you find that you’re actually quite relaxed with his presence. He spots a bit of a clearing near the back of the first floor of the club, where a whole bunch of leather couches are pressed up against the brick walls, where the two of you can take a breather.

“Damn, Clarissa knows a lot of people,” you say when you finally settle down, happily plucking a martini from a tray held by one of the many caterers wandering through the venue.

“I doubt she’s even spoken to half of them,” Taehyung comments. “She and I have maybe spoken once… three years ago.”

“It was enough to get you invited, wasn’t it?” You point out with an eyebrow raised.

Taehyung nods, chuckling a little. “Touché,” he says, clinking his own cocktail glass against yours.

You take a swig of the drink, letting it wash down your throat. You’re not exactly sure how else you’re supposed to survive the night. “You must enjoy this, huh?” You muse, looking up at Taehyung from where you’re seated on the couch. He’s standing next to you, looking around the room with a distant gaze in his eye.

“Enjoy what? The drink? It’s nice,” Taehyung says, having another sip.

“No, I mean this,” you say, motioning toward the crowd. “The clubbing, the dancing, the drinking. I’ll bet that if you could do this every day for the rest of your life, you would.”

“I’m honored that you think so highly of me,” he deadpans.

“Just making an observation,” you say, holding your hand up in surrender. “I mean, isn’t this what you used to do every weekend before we got married? Get wasted and party? Wake up in someone else’s bed the next morning? Muscle your way through the week just so you could do it all over again?”

Taehyung shakes his head, a knowing grin on his face. “Looks like someone keeps up with her tabloids. Let me guess, you would scroll through all of those trashy articles on your phone whenever you woke up so you could see what your future husband was doing?”

“I could have never even met you and I would know that that’s exactly what you do,” you say, even though you definitely did do those things before your engagement was announced to the public. “You’re a heartbreaker, Kim Taehyung. I don’t need to read a tabloid to know that.”

“Well, you must be quite the lucky girl, then,” Taehyung comments. “You seem to be taking up so much of my energy that I don’t have the time for that anymore.”

You place a sarcastic hand on your heart. “I didn’t know you were always thinking about me. I’m touched.”

“Don’t get used to it,” Taehyung huffs out, making the two of you both shake your heads as you chuckle to yourselves. First civil conversation you’ve had with each other in a long while, even if there may have been a few blows exchanged.

The privacy doesn’t last long. Soon after, a huge crowd of people that could honestly still pass for teenagers herds towards the back of the club, all of them wanting to take pictures with each other. You and Taehyung do your best to stay out of the way, but one of the girls recognizes him from the Elle photoshoot he did about a year ago and begins to strike up a conversation with the both of you about your recent marriage. If she was paying attention to anything the tabloids leaked three weeks ago, she doesn’t mention it. Taehyung smiles and happily answers all of her questions, and even offers to take a picture of the group for them. The conversation ends before the two of you even catch her name.

You’re standing by the line of buffet tables laid out against the staircase leading up to the second floor, no doubt as crowded as this one, when the opportunity for you to speak to someone other than Taehyung finally presents itself.

“Y/N!”

You’d recognize that voice anywhere. You turn around to see Victoria barreling towards the both of you, not even caring when she accidentally spills a bit of her piña colada on the floor as she does.

“Hey!” You exclaim excitedly. “I didn’t know you’d be here.”

“Are you kidding? I’m pretty sure Clarissa invited everyone on her, her best friend’s, her best friend’s cousin, and her best friend’s cousin’s dog’s contact list,” Victoria says with a laugh. “It’s nice to see you. I feel like you’ve been holed up in that big ol’ penthouse for weeks.”

“Damage control,” you remind her succinctly. Victoria knows enough that that’s all the explanation she really needs.

“I don’t know if the two of you have ever met formally,” you say, thinking back to your wedding, where Victoria spent most of her time schmoozing with your parents (who love her) and didn’t even engage with any of the people who Taehyung’s family had invited. “Taehyung, this is Victoria. Victoria, Taehyung.”

“Pleasure,” Victoria says in that loud, unabashedly forward way of hers, holding out a friendly hand. Taehyung smiles back curtly, taking her hand and shaking it gently, so as not to spill any more of her drink.

“Mine as well. I remember you were at our wedding.” Oh? So he does know her?

“That I was. Oh, I miss that day. The food was excellent. Tonight’s isn’t too bad either. Hope you’re doing well, the two of you. It’s nice to see you getting along,” she says, always the observer.

Taehyung’s eyes widen a little when he picks up what Victoria is not-so-subtly putting down, but you place a hand on his upper arm to calm him. “It’s okay,” you tell him. “She won’t say anything.”

“My lips are sealed,” Victoria adds.

“If you wanna go spend time with some of your friends, you can,” you say, giving Taehyung a nudge. He looks positively helpless standing in between the two of you as Victoria out-extroverts him.

“Alright,” he says hesitantly, even though you know he’s already spotted at least ten people you’re sure he’d want to spend time with over you. “I’ll come find you soon, okay? Don’t go too far.”

You nod, and Taehyung disappears off into the crowd. Not two seconds later, you hear someone else call his name in a familiar tone.

“I thought you said you hated him,” Victoria points out as the two of you watch his caramel brown hair makes its way throughout the crowd.

You take another sip of your drink. “I do,” you say.

Victoria looks at you like you’ve just told her you’ve sworn off custard-filled doughnuts.

“What?” You ask, feeling suddenly defensive.

“Nothing,” Victoria singsongs. “It just doesn’t look like that to me.”

“We just need to keep up a good appearance in public, that’s all. You know how mad my parents got when the tabloids leaked all that shit a few weeks ago,” you explain. You’re not sure what all the fuss is about. Taehyung said he would do these things. And he did. That was him upholding his end of the deal. This is you upholding yours.

“If you say so…” Victoria says, not looking at all convinced. “I guess I’m just surprised that—that you two seem to be getting along so well. Maybe you being married isn’t going to be the worst thing after all.”

You stare back out into the crowd, scanning the top of people’s heads for Taehyung’s familiar locks. In the dim light of the club, you have a difficult time finding his, squinting your eyes slightly as you look around, but eventually you spot him, dancing happily with some old friends of his you recognize. He looks like he’s having a good time. And that makes you feel like maybe, just maybe, this might end up alright.

“Yeah,” you say, though with the pounding of the bass and the alcohol already rushing through your veins, it doesn’t really feel like your voice belongs to you. You look back at Taehyung, knowing exactly where he is now, and you smile. Just a little. “I guess he’s not so bad.”

You never do get a chance to meet Taehyung’s friends that night. By the time he joins back up with you and Victoria he’s by himself, a little more drunk than when he left, and ready to go home. And for once, instead of fighting him, instead of insisting you stay an hour more just to make sure you’ve done all of your rounds, you let him take you home.

Taehyung has been spending a lot more time at the penthouse lately. Perhaps his family’s business happenings are slow, or perhaps he’s actually starting to get more comfortable with inhabiting the same space as you, but he has definitely found himself quite the rhythm in that house of yours. He even comes down to the first floor rather regularly.

When he’s home, Taehyung is a lot quieter than you thought he would be. Granted, you don’t exactly know what you were expecting in the first place, but it certainly wasn’t him ruminating in one of the home offices while the Beatles play softly on the stereo, nor was it him reading a book in French in one of those big old grandfather chairs in the living room. If you didn’t know any better, you’d probably think he was still absent in that old way of his, ghostlike and silent, like he was occupying the space instead of truly living in it.

But you do know better, and even though Taehyung is just as noiseless as he used to be, the house already feels a little bit fuller.

Perhaps the reason you’ve become so keenly aware of his presence over the past few days is because of the notable fact that Taehyung has indeed held up his end of the deal, and no longer goes out with his friends in the evening. Or at all, for that matter. Which strikes you as rather odd, because he’s the epitome of a social butterfly, a thousand contacts in his phone and a whole group of friends he regularly spends time with. Maybe his parents told him to tone down the public appearances, too. And that’s understandable, but don’t they know Taehyung? Can’t they see how much he thrives on social interaction? It almost makes you feel… bad for him.

To remedy this, you suggest he invite over his friends. Just for a few hours, you swear you won’t mind.

“Seriously?” Taehyung looks positively shocked when you tell him he can, standing in the doorway of the office he seems to have designated as his own.

“Yeah, why not?” You say with a carefree shrug. Besides, you’ve never met his friends anyway, and now seems as good a chance as any to introduce yourself. You are his wife, after all. “Unless your parents say you can’t. But it’s not a problem for me.”

“You… don’t mind if I have my friends over for a bit? Honest to God, we’re probably just going to play FIFA for three hours straight,” Taehyung says like it’s some sort of warning. Like the idea of him and his buddies from college are going to sit in the living room screaming at the television, leaving you alone to do literally anything else, is somehow bad.

You laugh. “It’s fine, really. Call them. I’d actually quite like to meet them.”

Taehyung picks up his phone almost instantly, as if you’ll change your mind in the next five minutes so he better get them over soon, and already you can see the way his face is lighting up, the way his eyes crinkle as he chats to his friends and the way his lips curl upwards when they crack a joke back. Isn’t it obvious? He feeds off of the energy of others. Who are you to deny him such a simple pleasure?

As it turns out, Taehyung’s friends actually end up being quite nice anyway.

He invites over three, because four people is apparently the perfect number for a hardcore game of FIFA on his Playstation, and they are all very handsome men you have never met before. You suppose like attracts like, after all.

“You must be Y/N,” says the first one you see when you open the door to let them in. He doesn’t look a day over twenty-one—in fact, he could probably still pass as a college student—and has rather long dark hair that drapes over the sides of his face, covering the edges of his big doe eyes. “I’m Jungkook. This is Jimin and Hoseok.”

“Nice to meet you all,” you say, stepping aside so they can enter.

The shortest one, Jimin, grins in response, and Hoseok, behind him, gives you a wave. It’s refreshing enough as is, not having to exchange formal greetings and shake each other’s hands like you do with everyone else. Hoseok even gives you a bit of a nod, too.“You, too,” he says. “We’ve heard so much about you.”

Oh, have they, now? Interesting.

“All good things, I hope,” you say awkwardly, forcing a small smile as Taehyung comes bounding into the room, ears perked up at the sound of his friends’ voices.

“Definitely. Thanks for having us over. We didn’t wanna intrude on the sanctity of your new place,” Jungkook says, gesturing vaguely to the house as a whole. He’s got this excellent, genuine grin on his face, the kind that people who are just happy to be alive always wear.

Already he’s said enough to charm the shit out of you. Who knew Taehyung’s friends could be so… friendly? “Please, you’re welcome any time. I was just thinking Taehyung was getting a little lonely.”

“There he is!” Jimin shouts excitedly when he spots Taehyung behind the two of you, looking a lot more casual than he normally does when he’s alone with you, having abandoned his usual silky button-down and wide-leg slacks for a loose shirt and some sweatpants. You didn’t even know he had those things in his closet.

“Hey, everyone’s here!” Taehyung exclaims, just as happy. He squeezes past you to give the three of them a big hug, and it almost makes you feel like you’re intruding on something you shouldn’t be in. Even though this is literally your house.

“Nice place you got here,” Hoseok comments, eyes drifting around the living room. “Very minimalist, I like it.”

“Sure hope you don’t spill anything on those nice leather couches of yours,” Jungkook says.

“Yeah, unlike Kook, who has spilled tomato soup on every shirt he’s ever owned,” Jimin jokes, earning laughs from Taehyung and Hoseok and a punch from Jungkook.

“Moved after we married,” Taehyung says simply, shrugging his shoulders. It’s an easy enough explanation for why it doesn’t look at all lived in. Here’s hoping none of them realize you sleep in different bedrooms.

“Yeah, congratulations on that, man,” Hoseok says, giving Taehyung a celebratory nudge in the shoulder. “Who’d have thought, out of the four of us, Kim Taehyung would be the first one to settle down.”

The way Taehyung’s body tenses up at that comment does not go unnoticed by you.

“Seriously, I would have never guessed,” Jimin adds on. “You’re showing us a new side of yourself, Tae. But I’m happy for you.”

Normally, you’d probably take offense at such blatant insinuations that your husband was a former playboy, especially from his equally noncommittal friends. But truthfully, it’s not like you were blind to Taehyung’s transgressions either. And what matters most is the fact that since it was announced publicly, you are the only woman he’s been seen with since your engagement.

“Me too. You seem to really like her. I’m glad,” Jungkook pipes up, sending a smile your way. You definitely feel like you don’t belong in this conversation. “I think the two of you will be good for each other.”

“Yeah, I hope so,” Taehyung says with a nervous chuckle. His eyes quickly shoot your way, the two of you meeting gazes, your hesitant expressions matching. At least the two of you are on the same page. “Alright, alright, enough,” Jungkook says. “Who’s ready to get their ass kicked in FIFA?”

“You’re on, Jeon. But when I win, you owe me a five-star dinner,” Hoseok challenges.

“Deal.”

Hoseok, Jimin, and Jungkook immediately crowd towards the couch, and you take that as your cue to leave. But before you can disappear down the hallway, you and Taehyung look awkwardly at each other, hands tied. It’s not like you can say anything to them.

The truth is that, sometimes, it’s easy to forget that not everyone else knows that your marriage is just for business. Sometimes it’s easy to forget that there are still people out there that believe you marry for love.

Isn’t it crazy to think that you used to be one of those people, too?

“Hey,” Taehyung says when you meet up at the bottom of the stairs again.

“Hey,” you respond.

“You look nice.”

You scoff a little to yourself. What, are you exchanging compliments now? “Thanks,” you say, looking him up and down. “You’re not so bad yourself.” Like he ever is.

“I knew you had taste,” Taehyung teases, and it’s the sort of comment that would have earned him a melon ball to the face back when the two of you were teenagers at a debutante ball, but today only earns him a roll of your eyes as you join hands. You don’t have anything big tonight—just a small dinner to celebrate some sort of business accomplishment for your family, which means that all you have to manage is not ending up in some sort of food fight by the end of the night.

“I didn’t have a choice, did I?” You retort easily as you get into the car.

You don’t normally speak a lot on the way to events. Not that you ever did, but even as your relationship has slowly faded from pure hatred to attempts at compromise, you both seem to relish in being able to stare out of your respective backseat windows and into the city that surrounds you. Just out of curiosity, about halfway through the ride you look towards Taehyung to see what he’s up to, and find yourself genuinely surprised to see him leaning against the window with his eyes closed. Is he sleeping? A couple more minutes of gazing at him tells you he is, because his body has gone lax and his breathing has evened out, soft snores leaving his mouth. This ride can’t be longer than twenty minutes. Has he not been sleeping well? Up in that enormous second-floor bedroom of his?

He’s awake by the time the car parks outside the restaurant, this fancy name brand steak place that was chosen solely because the biggest beneficiaries of your family’s new business deal are two sixty-year-old men whose entire diet consists of beef and beer. No cameras tonight, just a small family affair. You and Taehyung hold hands as you enter the restaurant and are led to the private room in the back anyway.

You and him are seated on the far end of the long, rectangular table, alongside all of the other adult children dragged along to celebrate something that has no effect on their lives. But it’s nice, because the space alone prevents your parents from actively speaking with you, and you and Taehyung can stay in your own little bubble, only chiming in for a toast when necessary.

“What are you going to get?” He asks you, the two of you gazing at the menu. No matter how fancy this place is, all the options seem to boil down to steak, steak, steak, steak, and caesar salad. Classic.

“Oh, so you actually care now?” You counter, an eyebrow raised in amusement.

Taehyung laughs. “Aren’t I supposed to?”

You narrow your eyes at him suspiciously, wise to his usual shenanigans. It’s hard to tell if Taehyung really means what he says, or if it’s all for show. But perhaps he’s asking because he’s genuinely curious, since no one else seems to be paying you any attention.

“The choices on this menu are simply overwhelming,” you say, motioning to the six options in front of you.

“I know, I’m so torn,” Taehyung jokes, making you huff out a little giggle. At least he’s still got that same sense of humor.

You both end up going for a pretty classic steak dinner, which neither of the two of you finish because the damn portions are the size of your head. Dinner is, in and of itself, absolutely mindless, all of your parents talking about things that don’t concern you whatsoever, leaving you and Taehyung to your own devices as you desperately try to make the night go by faster.

At one point, you notice Taehyung’s foot brushing up against yours, the leather of his loafers brushing against the toe of your patent heel. Thinking someone of it, you push back, foot nudging his back to his own chair. It’s not a second later that Taehyung retaliates, the two of you dancing around each other underneath the table.

If the two of you were any younger, or perhaps any less resigned to your fate, there’s no doubt in your mind you would be attempting to get Taehyung to fall off his chair in an effort to do the same to you. Footsie means war. But when the both of you know that, at the end of the day, you’ll still be going home to the same place, and waking up the next morning in the same house, it doesn’t feel like this is a battle.

It’s just life.

Eventually, you meet Taehyung’s eyes with a hesitant smile, shoe pressed against his, stuck in ceasefire. And for once, he doesn’t have that devilish look in his eye, that smug little grin on his face that tells you that he’s going to make you regret whatever it is you just did. He’s just smiling back at you, all pink lips, having found real fun in the little things.

And that makes you happy.

The rest of the dinner is uneventful, which, in your book, is about as good as a dinner can go. You cheers to the future of your parents’ relationship with their newfound partners and say a quick goodbye to them both, hurrying out of there before they can ask you any questions on your relationship with your husband. But you don’t spend the car ride in silence on the way back.

Instead, you say, “Have you been sleeping well?”

The question seems to catch Taehyung off guard. He was already getting in position to take a power nap on the ride home, head pressed up against the window of the car.

“What?”

“Have you been sleeping well?” You repeat. “I noticed you fell asleep on the way here.”

“Huh? Oh, yeah, I guess,” he says, a hand scratching the nape of his neck. “I mean, it’s been hard adjusting, I suppose. But I’ll get over it.”

Hard adjusting? You’ve been together for nearly three months now. Three months worth of sleeping in the same penthouse bedroom, on the same soft-as-a-cloud mattress, underneath the same weighted blanket. And he’s still having trouble?

“Oh. I mean, I just wanted to ask because you seem really tired lately.”

“I got a lot on my plate, what can I say,” Taehyung says with an empty smile, forcing a chuckle. “I’ll be fine, seriously. You don’t have to worry about me.”

“Isn’t that my job?” You remind him. “I am your wife.”

Taehyung doesn’t say anything to that. He just lets out an audible breath, the kind you let out when you’re amused and have something snarky to say, but don’t have the energy to get the words off your tongue.

The rest of the ride is pretty quiet.

When you get home, you place your house keys in the bowl by the entrance and take off your shoes, just about ready to take a hot shower and collapse in bed, when Taehyung’s voice stops you.

“Hey,” he begins, almost hesitantly. You look back at him inquisitively. “I was thinking, maybe, if you wanted, we could start sleeping in the same bed?”

You scrunch your nose up. Not in disgust, but in surprise. In bewilderment. What brought this on, all of a sudden?

“Really?” You ask, because you can’t help yourself. “I thought we liked the separate bed thing. Gives us privacy.”

“Yeah,” Taehyung says with a shrug, “but—I don’t know, it’s stupid. I just thought, you know, since we’re married and all. And it’s been three months.” He looks about two seconds away from backtracking, from shaking his head and going upstairs before you can say anything else.

“Alright,” you say quickly, nodding your assent. Taehyung’s eyes widen when he hears the word, like he had completely expected you to shut him down the moment he made the suggestion. “If that’s what you want. We can try it.”

“You sure?” He asks, that same hesitant smile from earlier lacing his features. It’s strange. He almost looks… sweet. Nervous.

You grin back at him. “Yeah, I am.”

Taehyung lets you grab some of your toiletries and your pajamas from your designated bedroom before you head up the stairs together, towards the bedroom he’s claimed for himself. Funnily enough, this is the first time you’ve been in his room. Three months of living together and you haven’t dared step foot on the second floor.

You don’t know what you were expecting when he opens the door to let you inside. Maybe a room that screamed ‘Taehyung’ a little more than this one does. One that looks like an actual human has been living here. But other than one of his classic silk button-downs draped over a chair, there’s not a shred of evidence someone has actually been sleeping here. You could honestly be fooled rather easily that the shirt, too, is just decoration.

“You can pick a side,” Taehyung says casually. He grabs his own sleepwear—an old t-shirt and some sweats—and heads into the bathroom to change.

You wonder why Taehyung has had such a difficult time adjusting. This room is about as lavish as a bedroom can get. And yet.

Sitting down on the left side of the bed, you begin to remove your own clothes, unzipping tonight’s dress and stepping quickly into your pajamas, hurrying to make sure Taehyung doesn’t catch you half-naked. How funny is that, you think to yourself. You’ve been married for three months and you still can’t bear the thought of Taehyung seeing you without a shirt on.

When Taehyung comes out of the bathroom, hair all messy and clothes all casual, he grins lazily to himself. “I sleep on the right anyway,” he comments mindlessly.

Within twenty minutes the both of you are about as ready to pass out as you have ever been, the only lights still on the ones on your respective nightstands.

“Goodnight,” Taehyung says, reaching an arm over to switch his off.

“Goodnight,” you tell him, turning off yours as well. And all of a sudden, the room is shrouded in darkness.

You fall asleep instantly.

When Taehyung wakes up the next morning, the first thing he says to you is that he hasn’t slept that well in ages.

“You slept together?” Victoria shrieks, so loud you actually have to move your phone away from your ear as you punch in the code inside the elevator for access to your floor.

“We did not sleep together,” you emphasize. “Okay, well, we sleep together, as in, in the same bed. But we are fully clothed. And not the slightest bit interested in doing anything other than sleeping.”

“I thought you said you liked having your own space,” Victoria points out. “When was the first time you—uh…” she pauses to find the right words, “shared a bed?”

“A couple weeks ago. It’s really not so bad, I don’t know why you’re so hung up over it,” you say, lips pursed. You squeeze the phone between the side of your head and your shoulder, hands full of shopping bags, the string of the handles burning your skin. Maybe you should look into getting a personal shopper.

“I’m hung up over it because, for the longest time, you have sworn off Kim Taehyung. Called him dead to you. Insulted him every chance you get.”

You scoff. You don’t need reminding of how much you hated him, how much you can’t believe you have to spend the rest of your life with him. “It’s different now. We’re married. And he said he wasn’t sleeping well. I felt bad.”

“He wasn’t?”

“Enough about him,” you say, shutting her up. You don’t feel like talking about him with Victoria anymore. “Word through the grapevine says that your parents are actually thinking of letting you start your own company?”

It’s enough to distract Victoria. For the rest of the ride in the elevator, she talks animatedly about a new streaming service her parents are considering letting her launch, under their parent business, of course, but it’s her own company nonetheless. And you’re proud of her. Proud she could do something your parents would never dream of letting you do. Proud she could make that happen.

You push open the front door with the side of your hip after entering in the security code, phone still snug between your ear and your shoulder, when you hear Taehyung call out your name.

He comes into view from the kitchen, which surprises you because you have, on multiple occasions, made fun of how much of a disaster chef he is, especially because he’s admitted to you he’s not a very good cook.

“I made brownies,” he says, holding out a plate of the chocolate treats in front of you. Instinct has you dropping your bags on the floor by your feet and reaching out, but you eye him first, suspicious.

“I have to go,” you tell Victoria, hanging up before she even gets a chance to object to your sudden departure. “You made these?”

“Yes, I did,” Taehyung says, rather proud.

“And the kitchen is… still standing?” You ask, skeptical.

Taehyung frowns at you, clearly unimpressed. “How bad of a chef do you think I am?”

“Pretty bad,” you admit with a shrug.

Taehyung pouts sadly to himself for a moment. “These are good, I swear. Nothing weird in them like vegetables or anything either. I used a box mix.”

“No wonder they look so nice,” you comment snidely, hesitant hand reaching out to grab one. They feel like brownies. So that’s good.

“Hey, I was the one who had to crack the eggs and shit. Three eggs! And not one eggshell in the bowl!” Taehyung says, clearly very pleased with himself.

You laugh at his enthusiasm, taking a bite. It’s good. And exactly what you needed after a long day of shopping. “I’m proud of you. They taste good.”

“I knew you wouldn’t doubt me.” Taehyung grins.

“They’re really good, actually,” You amend, genuinely surprised. And the best part is that you can count at least ten brownies left on that plate, which means that you get at least five more. Which, if you had any less self-restraint, you would probably eat all at once within the day.

“I’m glad you like them. They’re all for us, you know. No one else to share them with,” he says.

“Honestly, I’m probably going to finish them by tonight. You’ll have to make more tomorrow,” you say sheepishly.

“We can make some together,” Taehyung suggests.

“I’m looking forward to it,” you respond. The words come off your mouth easily, tumbling from your lips without you having to think about it. You aren’t saying them because you have to. You’re saying them because you want to. Because baking with Taehyung doesn’t actually sound too bad. Especially if it means more brownies.

“You’ve, uh, you’ve got something,” Taehyung says, gesturing vaguely to the side of his lip.

“Oh, I do? Yikes,” you say, a little embarrassed. Your hand comes up to wipe at the left side of your mouth. “Is it gone?”

“Wait, here, let me do it,” Taehyung says, reaching out towards you. He presses his palm against the side of your face, cradling your cheek and jaw in his enormous hands, and all at once it feels like your skin is on fire.

Your body freezes up at the touch, at the way his thumb swipes at the corner of your mouth, right against your lips, wiping away nothing but a goddamn brownie crumb. You look at him, look right at him, how can you look anywhere else when he’s right in front of you like this, and it feels like you are caught in his gaze, a rain droplet trapped on a web, a bee stuck in its own honey. His big, brown eyes sparkle from the ceiling lights, a chocolate sky that mirrors the food he just made for you. He looks at you and his eyes are so soft, so open, so happy to be looking right back at you. God.

“There,” he says, a moment too late.

“Thanks,” you stammer out, speechless otherwise.

You both stand there, looking at each other, wordless expressions drawn all over your faces, no idea what to do next.

After a while, Taehyung breaks the silence. “Do you wanna order takeout tonight?”

“Okay,” you nod, still a little breathless. Taehyung smiles before retreating back to the kitchen, leaving you standing in the entranceway, shopping bags abandoned by your side.

You look over to where he’s vanished. There’s a part of you that wishes he hadn’t left. A part of you that makes you want to see him again.

Phone calls from your mother are never good. The last time she called… well, you know how that went. So when you see her contact information light up your home screen, it’s only instinct that you feel your heart rate spike.

“Hello?” The voice that comes out doesn’t even sound like yours.

There’s no good way to put what comes next. Your grandmother has died. Heart attack. The paramedics got there too late. It was over before it even started.

For a moment, for a split second, it feels like everything is frozen. Like the world has come to standstill. Your mother’s voice echoes in your ears, suspended in time, the words turning into stone as they crash onto the floor. And when they do, it is as if everything comes back to life.

Truth be told, you don’t know how long you stay there, sitting on the edge of the left side of the bed, your phone resting lifelessly in the palm of your hand. It feels at once like an eternity and only a second in time. You spoke to your grandmother two days ago. You had promised that you and Taehyung would visit her soon. How can this be happening?

Your phone buzzes relentlessly in your hands, condolences pouring in from every person in your contacts, sorry’s and heart emoticons and If you need anything, I’m always here’s filling up your screen. There’s a part of you that vaguely registers your mother, alongside some of the other members of your family, trying to call you. But nothing can seem to shake you.

Until—

“Y/N? You still up here?”

You hear Taehyung before you see him. Hear his voice, hear his footsteps, hear the door creak open as he enters your bedroom. Slowly, almost sluggishly, you twist around to look at him, the mere act knocking the wind out of you. Or maybe you were already breathless.

“Hey, you alright?” Taehyung knows instantly that something is wrong.

“My grandmother died.” The words sit heavy on your tongue. There’s no point in not telling him. He’ll find out soon enough. He’s… he’s family, isn’t he?

“What?” Taehyung freezes in place. “I—I’m so sorry to hear that, Y/N. Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” you say, voice weak but steady. You blink up at him, once, twice, three times, and then suddenly you feel tears running down your cheeks.

Taehyung doesn’t say anything else. He rushes to your side and sits himself down on the bed next to you, arms wrapping around your body. And you don’t think about the fact that it’s him, about the fact that this is the closest the two of you have ever been. You just let yourself be engulfed in his frame, let yourself be enveloped in his hold as the tears stream down your skin, little hiccups jolting your throat. You close your eyes and press yourself into his arms, head resting against his chest, and wish so desperately that so many things about your life were just a little bit different.

It must be at least five minutes before either one of you dares to move. Your phone begins to rattle incessantly, that familiar and insistent buzz that the both of you are hard-pressed to ignore.

“I think you should answer that,” Taehyung whispers into your skin, lips right by your forehead.

“Yeah,” you sniffle, sitting up next to him and wiping the remnants of wetness by your eyes. Well, Taehyung’s seen you cry. There’s no going back now. “You’re probably right.” You look down at the phone. It’s your father.

“I’ll be downstairs, okay? Unless you want me to stay,” he offers, looking hesitant.

You shake your head. “No, it’s—it’s okay. I’ll be fine.”

“Call me if you need me,” he makes you give him a nod of understanding before he finally gets up, hands slowly removing themselves from your skin, leaving little sparks in their wake. Remnants of warmth. Suddenly, you feel much colder. Hardly a minute later he’s out of the room, and you can hear his distant footsteps as they make their way down the stairs.

Sighing, blinking, and swallowing all at once, you pick up.

The call passes by in a blur. Your father says the will will take at least half a year to be executed, but that the funeral is already being planned. Your grandmother had hoped you would eulogize her. You agree, but you have no idea what you will say. He says Taehyung is invited but does not need to come if he cannot make it. He says a lot of other things too, about your mother, about your cousins, about your aunts and uncles and your poor grandfather, who passed five years ago, but you can’t even remember them moments after he’s said them.

When he hangs up, the tears on your cheeks have dried, patches of them left along your skin. You head to the bathroom, getting off your bed for the first time that day, and try to wash away everything that has stained the morning. A part of you doesn’t even want to bother, just wants to slug downstairs and eat as much sugary cereal as you can get your hands on, but you can’t go down there looking like this. Looking so helpless.

By the time you reach the kitchen, Taehyung is already standing there, on the opposite side of the counter island, a big stack of pancakes in front of him. They look mouth-watering.

“Hey,” he says softly. “Thought you might want something to cheer you up.”

“Did you make these?” You ask, a little endeared. That was thoughtful of him.

“Yeah. They’re still warm,” Taehyung says. He holds out a fork.

You grin.

The funeral is a week later. It sucks in every way that something can suck. But not in the same way your wedding sucked, or even the announcement of your engagement. It sucks because it’s a funeral, because you have to stare down your grandmother’s casket when a part of you still doesn’t even believe that she’s gone. Because everyone there is so sad, so melancholy, dressed in all black and looking down at their feet. Because everyone is so sorry for you, so sorry for your loss, everyone has nothing but condolences to offer you. What will those do? They won’t bring her back. They won’t change things. They won’t make you feel even the slightest bit better.

Taehyung comes. He comes because he offers, and because you want him to. You want someone whose hand to hold. Want someone to smile at you when you’re speaking in front of your entire extended family and trying not to cry. You want someone who is familiar, and warm, and there for you.

And most of all, you want someone who won’t keep the conversation going when you get home.

“Do you wanna order Chinese?” He asks, coming into the living room, where you have been sulking on the couch ever since you stepped foot inside the door.

“That sounds nice,” you force out.

“Okay. Your usual?”

“Yes, please.” You don’t bother asking how Taehyung already remembers what you like to order when you’ve only gotten Chinese twice in the last three months.

“I’ll call them.” He disappears off into the kitchen.

What you do appreciate about Taehyung is how he has defaulted to food as a comfort measure, and how the thought alone genuinely brightens you up a little bit. You don’t know each other very well—still, after three months, you couldn’t even say his favorite color—but he is doing his best, and he is trying his hardest. In some ways, you were unlucky to marry him. To marry someone you didn’t love. To be forced into a union you had no say in, with someone you had so much antagonistic history with.

But in some ways, your luck has changed. In some ways, marrying him was perhaps the best thing that could happen to you. Taehyung is snarky, a little devilish, and absolutely full of himself, but he is not thoughtless. He is not heartless. He has proven that he is willing to put in the work. That he can grow to care. To change. To compromise. And isn’t that the luckiest thing you could have gotten?

“I’m sure you’re probably sick of hearing people tell you they’re sorry for your loss.”

His voice breaks your reverie, carrying throughout the wide open space of your living room. He’s grinning honestly where he stands, slowly making his way over to you.

“Kind of, yeah,” you admit. “It’s not going to bring her back. Most of those people probably don’t even mean it.”

“Don’t say that,” Taehyung says, sitting down next to you. “I’m sure they do.”

You look at him skeptically.

“I mean, they’re sorry for your loss because that loss is causing you pain. And that sucks,” Taehyung explains, albeit a little less eloquently than you thought he would. “I know it sucks for me.”

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t like seeing you sad,” Taehyung says honestly, shrugging to himself.

You scoff a little to yourself. “I would have thought my downfall would be the exact thing the great Kim Taehyung would wish for himself.”

“Maybe a couple of years ago.”

You narrow your eyes.

��Okay, maybe even a few months ago,” Taehyung admits with a laugh, making you smile, ever so slightly. “But it’s different now. I like it when you’re happy. When you’re snarky and funny and a little evil. Seeing you like this… I don’t like the way it makes me feel.”

“That’s called empathy,” you point out.

“I’m trying to tell you that seeing you sad makes me sad, stop being a smartass,” Taehyung chides, and that really makes you grin. “There. There’s that smile I was looking for.”

“You’re so annoying,” you say, even though there’s no malice behind it. You give him a little push, palms of your hand pressing lightly against his shoulder as you roll your eyes.

“Only for you,” he promises. He manages to grab a hold of your wrist as your hand meets his torso, pulling you into him as he wraps an arm around your torso. You gasp a little at the sensation, head falling against his body, fitting snugly in the crook of his neck. He gives your side a comforting rub. “I’m sorry today was so shitty.”

“It was,” you agree. “But Chinese food will make it a little bit better.”

Taehyung looks positively scandalized. “What? ‘Chinese food will make it better’? But not your loving, doting husband?”

You pretend to think for a little bit, tilting your head up to the sky as you tap your chin with your finger. “Okay. Maybe that, too,” you cave after a bit of waiting, just to be extra bothersome.

“That’s what I thought,” Taehyung says proudly, looking down at you, eyes sparkling. You can feel his grip tighten as he presses you against his body, letting you rest your head on his side. It feels like the longest hug ever, like you’re wrapped up in a weighted blanket. Only it’s not a blanket. It’s Taehyung. It’s your husband.

He’s your husband.

“Tomorrow will be better,” he says, and it sounds a lot like a promise.

You nod against him, letting your eyes drift shut. Things are pretty awful right now. Your grandmother’s dead. The funeral was the saddest family event you have ever attended. You have no idea what’s supposed to happen next.

But he’s right. He seems to be right a lot these days, actually.

Tomorrow will be better.

Taehyung lets you sleep in for the next few days. Next several days, actually. Every time you wake up it’s close to noon and your husband is nowhere to be seen, the right side of the bed cold to the touch. It’s nothing to be worried about, though, because you can still see the noticeable dip in the bed from where he lies upon it, sinking his weight into the mattress. Taehyung’s an early bird and you’ve been having fitful nights ever since your grandmother passed.

Today, you pull yourself out from underneath the covers around noon, sluggish and still tired, squinting as the near-afternoon light streams through the enormous windows of the bedroom. Taehyung must have thought to keep the curtains open today.

You pull on the first casual clothes you see in your shared closet, some wide-leg sweatpants and a drapey t-shirt, and trudge downstairs like a raccoon to a trash can, hoping to fish through the kitchen cabinets to find something to eat.

Taehyung is, as far as you can tell, nowhere to be seen. You can’t seem to hear him anywhere, and a part of you wonders where he’s at when you stumble upon the note left on the granite counter.

Had a meeting downtown, be back around 1! There should be smoked salmon and some cream cheese and bagels in the fridge.

Taehyung.

You chuckle to yourself as you read his flowy handwriting, amused that he thought to let you know of, of all things, the available breakfast foods in the kitchen. You check the clock. It’s nearly noon. Which means you have just over an hour of the house all to yourself.

Having the house to yourself for five minutes is infrequent enough as it is, let alone for a whole hour. So often is Taehyung around, somewhere, holing himself up in one of the dozens of rooms or mindlessly wandering down the hallways. And for how much Taehyung is present, the funny part is that you still have no idea what he gets up to most of the time. Despite your voluntary abandoning of the separate bedroom rule, the two of you are still firm proponents of the sanctity of your personal spaces. There are rooms in the penthouse Taehyung has never been in, rooms filled with your clothes and makeup and accessories for when stylists come over before an event. A sewing room that you had specifically asked your parents for, because a part of you never let go of that childhood dream of being a fashion designer.

And there are rooms in the penthouse that you have never been in. Rooms with dark wooden doors that have always been kept closed, that you have never stepped foot in. It’s not that you aren’t curious as to what Taehyung gets up to. He could have a goddamn evil lair in one of those rooms and you would be none the wiser. But you don’t go, because he doesn’t go into your rooms. Because you two, despite all the vows you have broken, promised each other you wouldn’t.

An hour to yourself is almost a good enough excuse for you to head back up to the bedroom and take a nap. Not that you don’t get enough sleep on a regular basis, or that you even had a fitful night last night—hell, you woke up near noon today and already you want to go back to sleep—but what else is there to do when he’s not around? What new freedoms have suddenly been given to you?

You head back upstairs, much less groggy after that delicious bagel of yours, when you catch a whiff of what smells like wet paint coming from down the hallway. It’s potent and immediately invades your senses, prompting you to wonder if that has always been there, or just magically appeared. Maybe you were so sleepy earlier, you didn’t notice it.

Well, you notice it now. Unable to help yourself, you start to wander down the hallway, towards the source of the smell. God, it stinks. It takes you back to those days in middle school, when you would spray paint projects inside a tiny little classroom, have to step outside for fifteen minutes while you cracked the windows and aired it out. It gets stronger the further down the corridor you go, like a thick, smelly cloud stationed firmly within the walls of the penthouse. And then you realize where it’s coming from.

It’s an art studio.

A very messy art studio, you amend to yourself, as you peek inside. The door is wide open, and all of the windows are popped too, but the extra air circulation doesn’t seem to have made a dent in the scent. And all over the floor, the walls, and the tables are canvases covered in paint, denim jackets and pants and shirts with these wide, unafraid brushstrokes. Open cans of spray paint lie discarded on the hardwood floor stained with splotches of red, yellow, and green.

Is this what Taehyung does in his free time? Is this where he goes, this bright, sunny room at the end of the second floor hallway? Is this what he is making?

You look down in awe at the clothes resting on the floor, splayed out to maximize dry time. Abstract faces, landscapes, and words are painted onto the backs of jackets, the fronts of old white t-shirts. What hasn’t made it onto the clothes has been put on canvases instead, blurs of color mixed together in this purposeful pattern, confidence emanating from every stroke, every dot. It’s not art in the way that the gorgeous landscapes of Monet, the picture-perfect portraits of Kahlo, the messy, unplanned splatters of Pollock are. It’s art in a different way. In a Taehyung way.

Who knew he loved it so much?

You almost feel like an invader encroaching on his territory when you lean down to start cleaning up some of the mess, throwing out empty spray-paint cans and tossing out grey paint water. You don’t dare touch any of the work, don’t dare try to move it. You do what you can, washing out the brushes resting in the water and cleaning up the wet splotches of paint on the hardwood. Over time, the thick scent of still-wet paint slowly fades, disappearing out the window as the fresh afternoon air seeps in. And you stand there, in a room full of art, in a room full of pieces that Taehyung has undoubtedly poured his heart into creating, and you smile to yourself.

That’s how Taehyung finds you ten minutes later, peering into the room after declaring that his meeting had ended early.

“Thought I’d find you in here,” Taehyung says with a grin as you jump at the sound of his voice, eyes widen when you turn around to see him standing by the door.

“Oh, hey,” you say sheepishly. “I didn’t hear you come in.”

“Maybe because this is the farthest room in the house from the front door,” Taehyung teases lightly, coming up behind you. “I see you found my studio.”

“I know I’m not allowed in here,” you admit.

Taehyung scoffs. “Who says?”

“Didn’t we both agree on that?”

He shrugs. “Sort of. I think we just reached an unspoken understanding we wouldn’t invade each other’s personal space. But it was not in the fine print, no.”

“The fine print of what?”

“That deal we made.”

Right. That deal you made, four months ago, That deal, where the two of you agreed to pretend to be in love with each other during public appearances so you wouldn’t get burned at the stake by your families. Where the two of you agreed not to interact with each other otherwise because you hated each other so much.

“Oh, yeah,” you say distantly, feeling naive for already forgetting about it. It doesn’t seem to have slipped Taehyung’s mind whatsoever.

“It’s okay, I don’t mind that you’re up here,” Taehyung says, interrupting that piercing little voice in the back of your head that is asking you why on earth you forgot about that deal in the first place.

“Yeah, I—” You scratch at the nape of your neck, trying to find the words to say. “It just smelled like paint, so I wanted to see what you get up too. And it’s this, apparently.” You motion vaguely to the entire room.

“You sound… surprised,” Taehyung muses correctly.

“I guess I am,” you surmise. “I’m rather impressed, too, actually.”

“Really?” It’s Taehyung’s turn to sound surprised.

“Yeah,” you tell him honestly, looking into his eyes. “I—you know, I just came in here because the entire hallway smelled like wet paint and I wanted to know why. But I didn’t know you loved art so much.”

“There’s a lot you don’t know about me,” Taehyung points out.

You suppose that’s true. You don’t know his favorite color. His favorite song. His favorite book. For a long time, you didn’t know what he got up to on his side of the penthouse. You don’t know how he met his friends. What he studied in university. Who he has loved in the past. Who he loves now. You don’t know why he does the things he does, and why he doesn’t do the things he doesn’t do.

But you do know his Chinese takeout order.

And you do know his hobbies. Well, one of them, at least.

Who’s to say you can’t learn more?

“Well,” you start with a smile. “I’m your wife, aren’t I? Shouldn’t I begin to learn?”

Taehyung picks up what you’re putting down instantly, grinning in response. “Only if you’ll tell me things about you, too,” he requisitions.

“I will,” you promise. It’s the easiest one you’ve ever had to make.

His face is light, bright, bathed in the rays of the afternoon sun. His eyes shimmer as they meet yours, golden flecks more pronounced like this, in this gorgeous, open space, daylight streaming through the windows. Looking at him makes you feel like you are surrounded by warmth, makes you feel like the sun is opening its arms out to you. He has always been gorgeous. Beautiful. But looking at him like this, standing in the middle of a room filled with all the things he loves, a yellow halo surrounding him—he is ethereal.

Taehyung smiles. “Then I will, too.”

The hand-holding comes naturally tonight.

The funny thing is, actually, you don’t need to hold hands at this gathering. It’s not an event. Or a public appearance. It’s not even a business dinner. It’s your aunt’s sixtieth birthday party, reserved exclusively for family. Isn’t that strange? That Taehyung is, technically, family now?

For so long you had vowed to stay as far away from him as possible. Vowed to stick it to him whenever and wherever you could, do anything you could to get on his nerves, rile him up. Vowed that when you, one day, took over your family affairs, you would never, ever invite him. Make it known that he wasn’t to be a part of your life. And yet, here you are. Clinging to him despite being well-acquainted with—loved by, even—every other person in the room. Holding his hand like a goddamn lifeline.

To be fair, Taehyung doesn’t look a hair out of place here. Dressed relatively casually, a smart sweater with a collared shirt underneath it, he smiles warmly at all of your relatives and presents your aunt with a beautiful and very expensive scarf the two of you had commissioned from a designer in Italy, which she absolutely loves. She pinches his cheek and proceeds to wear it for the rest of the night.

“Damn,” you murmur to yourself as you wander around your aunt’s house, hand wrapped around his arm. “This place hasn’t changed a bit.”

“When was the last time you were here?” Taehyung asks.

The question actually makes you think for a moment. “I don’t know, maybe five years ago? Last couple of birthdays I was overseas or in school. Had to send her a card.”

“Bet your parents were real pleased with that,” he jokes, making you both laugh. At least you two will always be able to share your experiences of domineering and influential parents with each other.

“Oh, I’m sure. Just as pleased as they were when they realized how much we hated each other.” You expect that little jest to elicit a laugh out of Taehyung as well, but he just smiles tightly, huffing out a breath of acknowledgement.

“Eh, it’s not like that now, is it?” He offers up.

“I suppose not,” you muse, sitting down together on her ancient grandma couch in the living room. No matter how rich your family gets, she’ll never get rid of this thing, that’s for sure.

One thing you’ve picked up over time is that, for every second Taehyung spends basking in the spotlight, he spends an equal amount of time lingering by the wall, watching the rest of the world turn without him. He’s an observer. He is one by nature, feeling an irresistible pull to understand humans in a way only artists could ever do. He sits down next to you and watches your family in an environment where they can relax, where they can feel comfortable and be casual with one another.

Very seldom have you ever brought friends to events like these. Small family affairs. But Taehyung isn’t a friend, is he? No, he’s your husband. He belongs here just as much as you do.

“My family seems to really like you,” you point out. Not that anybody has ever harbored as much disdain for him as you. Your parents called him respectable and polite when they told you you were to be wed. Your grandmother had said he was a dashing young man. He doesn’t exactly have to reach far to be loved around here.

“That’s my job, isn’t it?” He replies snidely.

“Oh, just take the compliment,” you say with a roll of your eyes. Taehyung always has to be so difficult. “I’m surprised you aren’t nervous as hell. Last boyfriend I brought to meet my parents was shaking in his Louis Vuitton shoes.”

“Last boyfriend, huh?” Taehyung’s interest has been sufficiently piqued. “And, uh, how many of those have you had?”

You narrow your eyes at him suspiciously, smile twitching on your lips. “Wouldn’t you like to know, Mr. Heartbreaker.” Pretty rich of Taehyung to be asking you such a question when he’s probably had more girlfriends than you can count on both hands. “Not as many as you’ve had girlfriends, that’s for sure.”

“Guess I’m a lot different than all those trashy guys you’ve dated, aren’t I?” He asks, an eyebrow raised as he looks at you.

“You are?”

Taehyung nods assertively. “Well, yeah. First of all, I’m your husband. Second of all, your parents love me. Third of all, you love me, too.”

You scoff. “Don’t humble yourself. You don’t know me that well.”

“Speaking of which,” Taehyung says, eyes wide as he points to you knowingly, “how about you tell me a little fact about yourself? It’s my job to learn about you, isn’t it?”

“That is my line, watch it,” you sneer, pointing back at him. You wrack your brain for a fact that you can tell him, something more exciting than your favorite color but less weird than one of those terrible icebreaker exercises you had to do in college seminars. Something that has pertinence to who you are. Who you’ve become. “Alright. I used to want to be a fashion designer when I was little.”

Now that catches Taehyung off guard. “Really?” He says, genuinely intrigued.

You shrug. “Yeah. I learned to sew when I was really little. Been tailoring and hemming clothes all my life. But I always wanted to design my own stuff.”

“Is that what’s in your room?” Taehyung asks. “A sewing machine?”

“Bingo.”

“Wow,” Taehyung says. “I didn’t know that.”

“Isn’t that the whole point of this exercise?” You say, just to be smart.

Taehyung shakes his head, eyes rolling.

“What about you?” You ask. You can’t imagine what he’ll say. Astronaut. Veterinarian. Or, if he really wants to surprise you, a business executive.

“A museum curator.”

It is an answer that simultaneously surprises and doesn’t surprise you at all.

“Fitting,” you muse. “You could have put your own art on display.”

“Pretty sure that’s, like, super unethical,” Taehyung reminds you.

“So? You’re rich. Start your own museum. Put your own art on display. Live your dream,” you amend. “It shouldn’t be holed up in that studio of yours forever. It deserves to be seen.”

Taehyung smiles at you. “You think so?”

You nod. “Of course. You create beautiful things, Tae.” It’s the first time you’ve ever called him that. And that is not lost on Taehyung, either.

“Thank you,” he says softly, blinking as he looks at you. He doesn’t say anything else. He doesn’t need to.

Later that night, when everyone’s gotten a few drinks into their systems and Bruce Springsteen is playing low on the stereo, Taehyung disappears off towards the bathroom, no doubt because of the excellent soup that was served that night. All by your lonesome, you feel a little stranded, surrounded by your old relatives dancing on the hardwood floor of the dining room, your other cousins too young to actually spend time with.

In the commotion, your mother comes up to you, swirling a rather large glass of red wine in her hand.

“Where’s Taehyung?” She asks.

“Bathroom.”

“No wonder you were alone,” she says with a hearty laugh. “The two of you have been glued to each other’s sides all evening.”

“He’s my husband,” you offer as an explanation.

“I know, I know,” she says, shaking you off with a smile. Your mother is a lot more casual once she’s had her fill of wine, no doubt her favorite, Bordeaux. A lot more loving, too. “You really made your grandmother proud, you know? She loved you so much.”

“I know,” you say, trying not to get choked up at the mere mention of your grandmother.

“She was so happy to see you with Taehyung. It made her feel safe that you would be taken care of,” she continues on, barely paying you and your swimming eyes any attention. “She would be so happy to see you with him now, too. How much you love her.”

“I miss her,” you hiccup out, trying to compose yourself. Nothing kills a birthday party like some sad sack crying over her deceased grandmother.

“I know, darling,” your mother says, calling you by a nickname she has hardly used ever since you turned eighteen. She squeezes you tightly, a small hug of comfort. “I miss her, too.”

Someone calls your mother’s name, distracting her as she wanders off to your uncle, who is asking what the best way to cut the three-tiered cake on the dining room table is. She bids you a goodbye before disappearing towards the kitchen, no doubt ready to make the cutting of the cake an affair all on its own.

Taehyung comes back soon after, spotting you instantly as you stand around in the living room.

“Hey,” he says, noticing the wet shimmer of your eyes. “You alright?”

You nod, feeling better already now that he has returned. Now that he is by your side. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

“I hope those tears aren’t because you missed me,” he says, wiping away a stray one that has escaped from your eyes. You close them as his thumb brushes against your upper cheek, your eyelashes, opening them only when you’ve felt his touch vanish from your skin, leaving little sparks in their wake.

“No,” you say. But the night makes you honest, and a couple of drinks, even more so. “But I’m glad you’re here.”

Taehyung smiles. “Me, too.”

For all those days you have spent together, never have you and Taehyung had a night in. Which isn’t necessarily completely surprising, considering how many evening events the two of you have had obligations to attend, considering your differing work schedules and meeting times. Considering that, for a very long time, the two of you had no desire to spend any time with each other at all.

But tonight, there is nothing on your calendar. No galas, no dinners, no meetings, no schedules. There is only Taehyung, who has spent the entire afternoon up in his studio, inhaling spray paint fumes and doing what he loves. And there is only you, who has spent the entire afternoon wondering what the hell you’re going to do tonight when there is nothing else planned.

You knock on the door to his studio, catching him right as he’s finishing up another piece. This one is a single flower, painted in broad, confident strokes, bright green and red and sunflower yellow decorating the canvas.

“Hey, what’s up?” He asks, turning around to face you.

“Wanna order takeout tonight?” You suggest.

Taehyung grins.

Thirty minutes and your favorite Chinese food later, you and Taehyung have settled onto the couch, trays of dumplings and noodles and rice in front of you, an unfunny movie playing in the background.

You can’t remember the last time the two of you sat on this couch together. Maybe that night you had made the deal? Perhaps not even then. It wouldn’t at all surprise you if you found out that this was the very first time you and Taehyung have sat together on your couch, in your living room, in your house. So often is it occupied by others—Victoria, who sometimes comes over to ooh and ahh at your closet, Jimin, Jungkook, and Hoseok, who sit on this couch and play FIFA like it’s their job, your mother, when she wants to make herself at home in a place that doesn’t belong to her—but never you. Never you and him.

“This is kinda nice, isn’t it?” You ask, swallowing a bite of dumpling.

“Chinese food is always nice,” Taehyung responds over a mouthful of cold noodles.

“Not that,” you say with a sigh, “this. Sitting together. Watching this shitty movie.”

“It’s not that shitty,” Taehyung tries to reason. On screen, the main character is getting pied in the face during some weird college fundraiser. “Okay, it’s a little shitty. But it’s good background noise, right?”

You nod halfheartedly. “I guess.” Silence. You take another bite of your dumpling, not really sure how to continue the conversation. “We don’t really get to do this a lot, you know? Sit and eat dinner and watch a movie together. Like a date.”

“We’re on a date now, are we?” Taehyung muses, eyeing you snarkily.

“Isn’t that what this is?” You retort.

He shrugs. “I suppose it is.”

“Tell me another fact about you,” you request, looking over to him where he sits on the opposite side of the couch.

“About what?”

“Anything.”

Taehyung pauses, ponders for a moment. But he could never say anything wrong. Not when there is still so much you don’t know about him. Still so much you want to learn, so much you want to commit to memory. For so long you have stared at the planes of his face, the curve of his nose, the twinkle in those dark brown eyes. Those you will always remember. But what about who he is? What he loves? Those are things you still don’t know.

“The very first time I met you,” Taehyung begins, “I asked Jimin what your name was.”

“When was that?” You ask. Despite you being someone who has spent the better part of the last several years vowing never to give Taehyung the time of day, you sure don’t remember when it all started.

“That debutante ball,” Taehyung remembers fondly, “when we were fifteen. I asked Jimin what your name was because I wanted to ask you to dance.”

“Shut up, no you didn’t,” you say with a scoff.

“It’s true. You were standing there in that poofy white dress and I wanted to ask you to dance,” Taehyung points out. The fact that he even remembers what you were wearing is shocking.

Who knew. Who knew, back then, that you would one day grow up to marry him.

“And what did I say?” You demand more.

Taehyung laughs at the memory. “I came up to you, and I asked you if you wanted to dance, and you said, and I quote, ‘Who are you?’”

“No,” you say, aghast at your own behavior. Were those really the first words you ever said to KIm Taehyung?

“You did. Don’t you remember?”

You think back. Think back to every year you have ever known Taehyung, every year you have spent scowling at him from across ballroom floors, making some snide remark as you pass by each other in the hallway. Every year you have spent cursing his existence, willing him away from you so he could bother someone else. Every year you have listened to rumor after rumor of girlfriend after girlfriend. You think back and somewhere, somewhere in there, in those dusty corners of your brain and cobwebbed boxes of your heart, is that first memory of Taehyung, too.

Of him standing there in some generic black suit, black hair swept over his forehead, shoes too big. Of him coming up to you, trying to be as suave as a fifteen year old could be. Of you saying to him, instead of a hello, or even a what’s your name, “who are you?”

Of him saying—

“And you said, ‘your dream come true’.” Like a dam bursting open, the memories flood back to you all at once. “I remember that.”

Taehyung laughs out loud at the thought of him saying something so cheesy. “Unsurprisingly, you didn’t want to dance with me.”

“You were so—” you begin, but you don’t have the words. Don’t have the words to express how you felt about him that night. Don’t have the words to express how you feel about him now. Thinking about this, talking about it, it is a bridge. A bridge between what was then and what is now. A bridge between who Taehyung was and who you were and who Taehyung is and who you are. “—so unthinkable. I couldn’t believe you had come up to me and said that. I couldn’t believe you had the audacity. But something about that night made me remember you. Made me remember your name.”

“You thought about me after that?” Taehyung asks. “Is that what you’re telling me?”

“There is something about you that is unforgettable,” you say, honest and real and true. What else can you tell him? The truth is that you have always thought about him. Whether you liked him or not.

You finish your dinner and place your trays on the end tables next to you, stacking your empty bowls and plates on top of one another as the movie rumbles on in the background.

“It is kind of a shitty movie,” Taehyung admits after a while of being wholly unenthused.

“Yeah,” you agree. “But it’s good background noise.”

Taehyung laughs at your little mockery, warm and deep and from his belly. You look at him. He feels so far away, on the other side of the couch. Feels like he’s miles apart from you. You have spent countless nights clinging to his harm, hand gripped tight in his. And sitting like this, a full couch cushion of space between the two of you—it isn’t enough anymore. So you inch closer.

And closer.

And a little closer.

Until you’re pressed up against his side, legs touching as they rest neatly in front of you, backs stick straight as you stare at the television.

Taehyung holds his arm up. An open invitation.

Without asking, you lean into him, resting your head in the crook of his shoulder, in the space right underneath his jaw. You pull your feet up onto the couch and curl into his frame, pressing yourself against him. He is warm and firm and inescapable. He smells of coffee and paint and Chinese spices. He wraps his arm around you and pulls you in, as if there were any other place you’d rather be.

You sit like that for a while. Wrapped up in each other. Lazing around on the couch as the stars twinkle above your head. The movie ends and the two of you don’t even bother skipping the credits, letting them and the cheesy 80’s pop song play on, a distant soundtrack.

“I never thought any of this would happen,” you breathe out.

Taehyung looks down at you curiously. “What? This?”

“All of it,” you admit. “Us. Getting married. That stupid tabloid picture. My grandmother. This. It’s all so new.”

“New things will happen all the time,” Taehyung muses aloud. “We can’t help when things change.”

“You don’t have any regrets?” You have plenty. Regrets that you’ll never become the CEO you wanted to be in college. Regrets that you’ll never become the fashion designer you wanted to be as a little girl. Regrets that you will come to resent this marriage, resent Taehyung more than you have in years past, all because you had no choice. Regrets that your grandmother couldn’t see you now. Regrets that there were so many things in your life you could have changed, but didn’t.

“I thought I did,” Taehyung tells you. “I wanted to spend more time with my friends. I wanted to major in art in college. I didn’t want to marry you. I know you didn’t want to marry me.” He looks down and you look up at the same time, eyes locking, inches apart. “But looking back on it, I’m happy where I am. With what I have.”

“I never thought it could ever be like this,” you say, words falling off your tongue before you even ask them to.

“What?”

“Us.”

There’s no need to elaborate. Taehyung understands. He understands that, half a year ago, you both would have thrown yourselves into a volcano before holding hands with each other. He understands that getting over your hatred for each other seemed like an absolutely insurmountable task. He understands that you had never wanted to marry each other, that you couldn’t believe you would have to spend the rest of your lives with each other.

And he understands that now, things are different.

“I’m glad things happened the way they did,” Taehyung begins. “I’m grateful for us.”

You press yourself impossibly closer to him, feel his grip tighten around you. Like this, you can hear his heartbeat. Hear it thump like a drum, steady and firm and unwavering. His heart beats against his chest and you wonder.

You wonder if he can hear the way yours beats for him, too.

There were lots of things that made your night in together special. But one of them is the glaring fact that you don’t get them very often. That their infrequency makes them all the more valuable.

This has become blatantly obvious to you, because right now you are not spending a night in together. Right now you are stuck at a gala that you have to attend for the sake of business, drinking thin flutes of champagne and mingling with people you barely speak to.

The one good thing about nights like these is that Taehyung looks positively gorgeous in suits. He sort of always has, but you’d never admit that to his face. At least not until now. And as his wife, you are lucky enough to have a front-row seat.

“I can feel you staring at me all the way from over here,” Taehyung deadpans as he helps himself to a chocolate-covered strawberry from the buffet table.

You’re too obvious to have any shame about it. “What can I say, I like the view.”

“Hard to believe I was the once the one being shouted at for being inappropriate in public,” Taehyung says with a shake of his head. He bites into the strawberry and eats it all in a single go, tossing the stems into a bin nearby as you join back up in the heart of the crowd.

“It’s only inappropriate if other people hear,” you tease, letting him guide you, hand intertwined with yours, towards an empty corner where the two of you can snuggle up to one another in (relative) peace.

“I don’t think the champagne was very good for your filter, Miss Y/N,” Taehyung hisses into your ear, warm breath tickling your skin.

“Don’t you mean Mrs. Kim?” You pose, an eyebrow raised.

That seems to do something to Taehyung. It’s not very bright in here, with it being nighttime and all, but even still you can see the way his eyes darken. See the way his lips curl upwards, feel the way his grip on you tightens. It sparks something within you. Something deep in the pit of your belly.

Something that makes you want more.

You test the waters. “Mrs. Kim has a nice ring to it, don’t you think, Tae?”

Taehyung looks about a moment away from losing control. But instead of slamming you against the wall in front of all of these people and giving you what you really want, he growls out, low and powerful, “Home. Now.”

He doesn’t need to tell you twice.

You hail your car outside of the venue and it’s all the both of you can do to not jump on each other right then and there, in the backseat of this giant black van, overcome with want, with need, with everything in between. Taehyung’s leg bounces impatiently the entire ride back, and the feeling of your hand pressed against his doesn’t seem to be calming him down. He pulls you close to him in the backseat of the car, a hand resting on your thigh. You eye him carefully, as if challenging him to be any more daring. He grins.

Home cannot come soon enough. The two of you tumble out of the backseat and into the elevators, where you mash the top floor button after entering in the security access code, desperate and shameless. The ride seems to take hours, and the heat that surrounds you practically smothers you, covers you, fills up your lungs and chokes you.

There is nothing left by the time you reach your door. The moment it slams shut behind you Taehyung presses you up against the back of it, pins you against the wood as he hovers over you, eyes tracing your lips.

“Tell me something,” he demands.

“What?”

“A fact. Something I don’t know.”

It doesn’t take much thinking. “I want you,” you breathe out, watch it hit his skin, watch the way his eyes glint in the light of the entranceway. “Please, Tae. I want you.”

It’s enough for him.

This is not the first time you and Taehyung have kissed. The first time was nearly five months ago, in a chapel, at an altar, surrounded by hundreds of people. It was so unfun that you seem to have eradicated the mere thought from your memory. But you remember that feeling from that day. That feeling you got when you pressed your lips against his, cemented your marriage with a kiss. That heat. That sting.

Kissing him now—that feeling has returned tenfold. When his lips meet yours, it feels like fire is rushing through your veins, setting alight every nerve it passes, unforgiving and relentless. His enormous hands come up to cup your jaw, fingers pressing against the skin of your cheeks as they pull you close to him, keep you trapped in his hold. This is not the first time you and Taehyung have kissed but it feels like it is—it feels like there is a lotus blooming on a lilypad in your heart, it feels like you have been struck by lightning, it feels like nothing else you have ever felt before. It feels brand new.

Pressing back against him, he slowly releases you from the cage he has created against the door, spinning around so the two of you can tumble up the stairs and into your bedroom, unable to resist sneaking in pecks here and there as you make your way upstairs. Every step you take you stop, giggle as he presses you against the railing just so he can steal another kiss from you, put his hands all over your body. It’s a wonder the two of you even make it into your bedroom at all.

When you do, however, all bets are off. Taehyung presses you against the still-made bedsheets with a glint in his eye and a growl on his lips, pupils blown wide as he stares down at you, at your body.

"Aren't you a sight? Laid out so pretty for me," he purrs, robbing a breath from you.

It's a tone you have yet to hear from him. You find yourself growing impossibly hot under his stare, burning with an uncharted desire.

You can hardly wrap your brain around it. Here you are, craving the man you had spent the better half of your young adult life loathing. Maybe it’s the champagne; maybe it’s the way his fingers are running slowly up the length of your clothed torso. Whatever it is, your stomach does flips, unfamiliar to the way your body preens under his touch.

"Don't let it go to your head," you tease, simply because you could.

Taehyung hums disapprovingly, pressing kisses into your neck as he grabs one of your thighs and wraps it around his waist, riding your dress up in the process.

You sigh, exposing your neck further for him as he paints bruises into your neck. It feels like just yesterday you had called him out at the altar for his habit of sporting the very same marks you were soon to wear.

Perhaps you should have thought twice about letting the man you had married purely under business pretenses press his hips against your clothed center, but as he rolls his into yours, your mind falls blank, silencing any and all reservations you should have.

Whimpering, you beckon his mouth back onto yours, tongue meeting his wantonly.

You feel his fingers creep up the outside of your bare thigh, thrilling you in the most primal way. Reaching the band of your underwear after what felt like entirely too long, he runs the pad of his thumb against the lacy fabric.

You could scream. He is doing this on purpose. He must be. Surely he knows how badly you were aching for him? For him to fill you– whatever the manner may be.

You let out a whine before you can help yourself, frowning as Taehyung looks pleased with himself, confirming his knowledge of your prolonged pleasure.

"What's that? Did you say something?" he mocks, looking cruel and yet strikingly gorgeous as he smirks above you.

"God, you're irritating,” you huff, hips jerking up against his as he pulls at the band of your underwear, the elastic snapping back into the flesh of your hip. "Just fuck me already."

He tuts, clearly unimpressed by your impatience, "Now, where is the fun in that?"

Your eyes flutter shut as his fingers suddenly snake their way between your thighs. Mouth falling ajar, you grip his shoulders as he runs his middle finger against your clothed slit, trailing up and down your warmth. To think he was still dressed while he was touching you like this...

"No... I think I'll take my time with you," he says.

You mew against his hand, arousal forming against his long digits' ministrations. You have to hand it to him. Taehyung knows what he’s doing. The life of a bachelor has seemingly served him well.

You aren’t usually vocal in bed, but the way he’s purring words of filth to you, breath hot against the shell of your ear as he tells you how hot and slick your pretty pussy felt against his hand, has you gasping and sputtering, your own fingers wrapping around his wrist.

The fabric of your panties provides a friction that toys the line of pleasure and pain, making you thrust up to meet his motions, your humility slipping from you.

Taehyung watches you intently, cock growing hard under the constraints of his dress pants. You look better than he could've imagined, eyes watering and body shivering under his touch, his fingers soaking with your arousal. He can only imagine what you'd feel like with his fingers fully buried into you, rocking them against your velvety walls.

He lets out a groan of his own, turned on by the idea of you fucking yourself onto his fingers, whimpering out his name in ecstasy.

There’s this part of you that faintly recognizes that Taehyung has done this plenty of times before. Plenty of times with plenty of other lovers. But there is a different part of you, that part that bursts with light and hope, that reminds you that he was never married to those other ones. That his allegiance lies with you. And that thought, knowing that deep within you, he is yours, makes your jaw fall slack, pretty noises tumbling from your lips and your thighs clamping around him.

You were close, closer than you care to admit. Every touch against you is careful yet deliberate as he reads the signs of your body, the way it keens and arches into him, offering you words of encouragement as your climax finally hits.

"That's right. Good girl. Let go for me," Taehyung coos, eyes dark and focused on your writhing form.

You cry out into the familiar space of your shared room, head thrown back as you ride out the high, letting it wrack your body, send jolts throughout your veins.

You barely have time to catch your breath when he presses his mouth back onto yours, kiss still as eager as it was when you both first entered your home. You are alight with satisfaction as he pulls away to press a trail of kisses against your jaw.

"I want—f-fuck," you stutter as he finds your already hypersensitive clit once more, rolling his thumb over your now soaked panties in tantalizing circles, "want to make you feel good, too."

Admittedly, this fantasy had crossed your mind once or twice, brought on by the way he carried himself in a suit and the way his large fingers wrapped around the champagne glass; confident, collected, and entirely charming. Who are you to shy away from a man like him? He certainly has always been rather good-looking.

He pauses his motions, pulling his hand back to sit on your waist. Your dress is of the finest, most delicate satin, and after tonight's activities, completely wrinkled. You can almost hear your stylist's cries of dismay. Whatever. You have a steamer. And why focus on the dress when it’s obvious the two of you are focused on what lies underneath it?

"Yeah?"

"Yeah." You nod, skin still burning from your past climax.

Helping you back up, Taehyung stands. You lick your lips as you sit back up on the edge of the bed, watching intently as he unbuckles his belt, audibly hissing as his pants fall to his ankles, cock visibly straining against the fabric of his underwear. Thank God you don’t have to stand. With the way your thighs still felt weak and how your husband looks like a goddamn Adonis towering above you? Your legs surely would give out underneath you if you rose.

Brows furrowed, Taehyung palms over himself briefly before pulling down the waistband of his underwear, his painfully hard member slapping against his torso.

Your eyes widened on instinct. While the last thing you wanted to do was help inflate Taehyung's already large ego, you were certainly impressed at his size; thick and girthy, his tip red and shining with precum.

He couldn't help but smirk, thoroughly pleased by the way you stared at him unabashedly, chest rising and falling heavily.

"Open up for me," he orders.

And who are you to deny a request from your dear husband?

Your pretty lips wrap themselves around his engorged tip, all remnants of lipstick long gone by now. Taehyung hisses, a hand finding the side of your jaw as you run your tongue against the underside of his cock.

"Fuck, you're so pretty," he grunts, fighting off the urge to grip the back of your head and fuck your throat. As much as he'd love your have you choking and drooling all over his cock – and boy would he – he lets you set your own pace, not wanting to overwhelm you.

It doesn't take long for you to sink your mouth further down, however, clearly set on making Taehyung feel as good as you could.

A low moan erupts from his throat, digits pressing into your jaw in request to take more of him in, which you happily oblige.

You had your eyes trained on him, completely obsessed with the way he panted through pink lips, hissing slightly every time your tongue rolled over his sensitive tip.

Lolling his head to a side, his eyes meet yours, gaze primal and wolfish as he watches the way you worked his cock.

"Doing so good, love. Doing so fucking good for me,” he murmurs.

You hum against his skin at the sound of the sudden pet name, an unfamiliar feeling fluttering in your belly. You push aside the feeling, focusing instead on the way he grunts at the new sensation you had just given him.

Giggling, you pull off his cock, opting instead to press a kiss against his leaking tip, making sure to hold his eyes as you run kitten licks against it.

"God, you're such a tease." He shakes his head in disbelief.

He looks so good above you, shivering and cursing out praises on how good your mouth feels, how well you take his cock. Running your tongue along the length of his shaft, you become certain that this is a display you can’t imagine yourself ever getting tired of. But you have all the time in the world, right?

"Y/N,” he gasps suddenly, hips jerking towards your face. "Love, I'm gonna-- gonna cum."

"Cum in my mouth, please." Your voice was pleading and desperate. Taehyung had never heard such words spoken more sweetly.

"Fuck's sake."

You let out a yelp in surprise as his fingers work their way through your hair, bringing your head back down onto his cock. You relax, though, when you feel the hot ropes of his cum hit the back of your throat, your hands finding purchase on his thighs as you do your best to swallow it all down.

Pulling yourself off him, you let out a small cough, eyes watering slightly as you hadn’t managed to prepare yourself with a breath before his release. His large palm runs across the top of your head as you caught your breath, expression flickering with something unfamiliar. Could it be... fondness?

Your heart stammers at the thought as you stand, slowly stepping out of your dress, letting it drape off of your figure. Taehyung looks absolutely gobsmacked, pupils dark as he gazes at you, eyes unabashedly raking your body. He’s shameless.

You both are.

Slowly, you step towards him, fingers reaching out towards his shirt, carefully undoing the buttons as you gaze at each other, expressions unreadable.

"Tae?” You ask innocently, blinking up at him. “Fuck me?"

Your polite request makes Taehyung chuckle.

"Please?" You bring your bottom lip between your teeth, eyes blinking up at him adoringly for good measure. You reach the last button, let his dress shirt drape open. He brushes it off himself, stands there for a few seconds just to let the way you’re ogling his toned chest go to his head. At least he’s good-looking.

He sighs, probably contemplating some clever rebuttal, but eventually decides against it as his cock is already twitching back to life.

"Alright, love. Turn around. On your knees for me," He orders, making your stomach flip.

To your surprise, you are hardly in place when the warmth of his large hands finds the soft of your tummy, pressing you back into his chest as he pressed a peck to the back of your neck.

You squirm in his hold, whining as that same hand of his grabs hold of your breast, long digit rolling your nipple between their tips. You can’t help but press your ass back into him. His cock feels hot and heavy, pressing against the back of your thigh, making your pussy clench in anticipation.

You want him.

You want him so bad that you don't know what to do with yourself, shuddering as his free hand runs along the side of your ass, leaving scorching hot trails on your skin wherever he kneads into your flesh. He's touching you everywhere – everywhere but where you need him the most, and the arousal that drips down your thigh mocks you.

"Dammit, please!" You exclaim, running out of patience.

"Please what?" He says, an eyebrow arched.

You shiver, committing the way his middle finger traced your pelvic bone to memory forever.

You puff out a frustrated breath, nearly at your wit's end. "Please fuck me, Tae."

Taehyung pauses, grip on your breast and hip tightening as he lets out a moan. You let one out yourself as you feel him readjust, cock pressing against your slick entrance.

"Fuck, you sound so pretty when you say my name," He grunts. "Okay, baby. I'll fuck you. Begging so nicely for my cock."

You let out a squeak as you're suddenly pushed down onto your hands, back arching as he pushes his fat cock inside your heavenly cunt. He's thick, so thick, that you instinctively grip the sheet underneath you, fingers curled around them tightly as if it means to hold onto your sanity.

Taehyung lets out a shaky breath, angling your hips up so that you could take more of him.

"You feel—feel so good," he admits above you, and suddenly you wish you could see him. See the way his bangs stick to his damp forehead—see the way his tongue swipes over his bottom lip wickedly.

You let that thought go, however, as he thrust into you, making your jaw fall slack and eyes flutter shut. Profanities roll off your tongue unabashedly, helpless under the way his thick member pulls out of you, only to slam back into you.

You weren't expecting this. The way he stretches you out further than anyone had before. Your pussy clenches around him, reveling in the sweet, sweet burn.

He digs into the flesh of your hips, holding you steady as you mew and cry out, pushing your hips back in time to his, trying your best to meet his movements.

"Tae... fuck, fuck, fuck—"

He was filling you to the brim. Filling you tight and deep.

God, the way he was panting behind you was music to your ears. His cock pulses every time you call out his name, voice muffled and buried as you had your head pressed into the mattress, hair messy and bouncing with every hard thrust.

"S'good! Fuck... so, ah, big..." you cry out.

You feel drunk. Intoxicated off this beautiful man and the way he makes you feel a way only he can.

You nearly let out a sob as the rough pads of Taehyung's fingertips suddenly reach around you and find your neglected clit, rolling light circles on the soft and swollen bundle of nerves skillfully.

You are a mess, whimpering and drooling into your expensive sheets, and he filled every inch of you, leaving no place undiscovered. Your high nears, stewing on low heat somewhere near the pit of your belly, waiting for a chance to erupt and wash all over you. Taehyung must be close to, you realize, as his thrusts began to slow down, slamming into you roughly as if chasing after his high.

"Gonna take this load? Huh? Gonna let me cum inside your pretty little pussy?" His voice is straining, as if trying to breathe evenly but merely moments from falling apart.

If only you could formulate an intelligent response, but instead, you are a blubbering wreck, thighs shaking as they threatened to give out underneath you. But somehow, Taehyung knew. He had you. Quicking his motions against your delicate pearl, he could tell you were close too, and he was going to make sure you got there.

Suddenly, you're crying out and convulsing, tears brimming at the ends of your eyes as you feel Taehyung empty into you, collapsing onto his hands as well.

You feel his hot breath against the back of your neck as he pants, breath growing more and more even as the two of you regain control of your bodies and minds.

Pulling out of you, he plops down beside you, and for a moment, the two of you hold each other's gazes, eyes speaking in ways words never could.

Finally, after what feels both like an eternity and just a moment, you work up the courage to say something, moving closer to him as you place a hand on his chest, cushioning your chin as you rested on top of it.

"Psst," you beckon, voice hushed.

"Yeah?" His voice is husky and tired.

"I’m grateful, too."

"Huh?"

"I’m grateful for us, too."

Taehyung's gaze is soft, and it lingers on you for a second before the sides of his mouth curl up tenderly. He grins down at you, eyes drifting shut. You feel him squeeze you closer, pressing you against his skin. And then, you hear his breathing steady, see his lips part slightly.

You lean into his chest, eyelids fluttering. “Thank you, Tae.”

Not unlike the many other mornings you have awoken in this bed, when you open your eyes as the morning sunlight streams through the windows, Taehyung is nowhere to be found. The sheets on his side of the bed are flipped aside, revealing that soft outline of his body from the night before left imprinted into the sheets, a dip in the mattress where he slept. You had fallen asleep all wrapped up in each other, tangled up like vines, but must have separated sometime during the night. Distantly, you register Taehyung’s voice outside, notice his phone missing from his bedside table. He must be on an early morning call.

You check your phone for the time. Ten o’clock.

A late morning call, then.

Still basking in the afterglow of the night prior, you slowly inch your way out of bed, shivering as you pull the covers off you and scoot your legs around so they hang over the edge of the bed. You rub at your eyes until you faintly remember you did not take your makeup off last night, and when your hand comes away covered with black streaks and flecks of mascara, you wince to yourself. There goes five hundred dollars worth of a skincare routine.

After washing yourself up and applying as many serums as you can to your skin, you wrap yourself up in one of his button-up shirts, the torso so wide that it drapes over you. The tips of your fingers peek out from the ends of the sleeves, and you cross your arms lightly over your chest as you make your way to the door, ready to entice your husband back to bed for round two. What? It’s Saturday.

You peer around the door to find Taehyung standing a few feet away, facing away from you. He’s shirtless, and as his wife you have absolutely no problems ogling him, the toned curves of his back, the muscles in his arms. He’s always been a looker. You just finally have an excuse to look for yourself.

You approach him quietly, not wanting to interrupt nor broadcast your sex life to anybody on the other side who may be listening. Already, the idea of crawling back in bed together sends goosebumps along your skin, makes you giddy with anticipation. You’re just about to tap him on the shoulder, lips curled upwards in suggestion, when he says—

“And my inheritance? That’s secured now, right? Because I said I would pretend to be in love with her in public—?”

And it is as if Medusa herself appeared in this room, turning you to stone as your heart thuds to the floor, a hollow, empty noise.

You don’t hear the rest of Taehyung’s conversation. You don’t even hear the sound of your own heartbeat. This terrible, aching sound rings in your ears, silencing everything in its wake, drowning out even the sighs of your own breath. It is as if you have been frozen solid. As if you have been shot in the stomach. You stand there, feeling absolutely nothing, and all you can do is brace yourself for what is to come. Taehyung’s words were the knife but his next actions will be its removal, leaving in its wake an irreparable wound.

He turns around, casual and cool, voice still hushed. As if you were still asleep. As if you hadn’t heard anything at all. But when he twists his body and sees you standing there, staring back up at him, lips parted in shock.

“I’ll call you back,” he tells whoever was on the other side of the line, looking more panicked by the second. He opens his mouth so he can explain himself, but you don’t need him to. You’ve heard everything already.

“I should have known,” you say, feeling angry and betrayed and sad all at once. “I should have known it was all an act.”

“Y/N, wait, let me explain—”

“What is there to tell me, Taehyung? What are you going to say? That you didn’t mean it? That you thought I wouldn’t find out? That last night was just a one-off?” You demand. The heat from your veins hasn’t left. Still, it simmers through your blood, burning you up from the inside out. “That you didn’t want to lie to me?”

“It’s not like that and you know it,” Taehyung says defensively, brows furrowed. “Just give me a chance to explain myself.”

“Explain yourself? How you pretended, every day and every night, just so you could get some more money in your bank account? So you could make sure you would get your father’s business when he died?”

Taehyung bites back easily. “Don’t act like you weren’t also faking it at some point. I know you were almost removed from your grandmother’s will.”

Your tongue is bitter at the mention of your grandmother. As if Taehyung ever even knew her. “My grandmother has nothing to do with this.”

“Really?” Taehyung challenges. “So you wanting to stay in her will was just a little bonus, right?”

“Don’t,” you say sharply. “It’s different.”

“Different how?” Taehyung spits. “Because right now, to me, it looks pretty similar to what I’ve done.”

“My grandmother died months ago,” you remind him. Her will is no longer the question. It has been written, settled, and executed. There was no reason for you to continue playing along once she took her last breath. No reason—unless you wanted to. “Meanwhile you’ve been keeping your inheritance a secret from me this entire time.”

“We made a deal,” Taehyung says. “A deal that said we would both act happy and pretend to be in love because we both had things we needed to worry about. Family things. Money things. You were a part of this, just like I was. You pretended, too.”

“Well, maybe I stopped pretending!”

You can’t take it anymore. All this anger, all this emptiness, it’s been bubbling up inside you ever since you heard those first words come out of his mouth. It spills out of you all at once, an eruption from your lips, your heart’s doors bursting open. You have held his hand tightly in your own. You have pressed your lips to his. You have laid yourself bare in front of him. What is there left to protect? What part of you has not already been stained by him, by his touch, by the feeling of his fingers against your skin?

The hallway is silent, but you can hear your cry echo down the corridor. Hear the way it bounces along the walls before fading away.

“Maybe I stopped pretending,” you repeat, softer this time. You blink and already can feel the streaks along your skin, the tears falling from your eyes. “Did you ever think about that?”

“Y/N, what are you talking about?” Taehyung looks like he’s in disbelief. Like he cannot believe the words you are saying to him.

Well, that makes two of you.

“Can’t you see, Tae? Can’t you tell?” You ask, the nickname falling from your lips before you can even help it. You must remind yourself to change that, later. “I’m in love with you.”

They are words you have never said to someone before. Not even your old boyfriends. Words that you always knew you would reserve for someone special. Someone who would touch your heart and make it their own, someone who would leave imprints of their fingers against your chest. Someone who would brighten you up from the inside out, leave you bursting with light.

Ironic, that Taehyung has become that someone. When he is the one person you never thought could.

When he has proven, time and time again, that you two just cannot mix. Oil and water. Pastel and acrylic. Satin and silk.

“You don’t have to say anything,” you spit out quickly, before Taehyung has a chance to respond. “I know it doesn’t matter to you.”

“Y/N, yes it does,” Taehyung begins, desperate and pleading. “I know you heard what I said, but I swear, it stopped being an act for me, too. Things are different now, just like you said.”

“Don’t. Please.” You pull away as he reaches out towards you. Faintly, you remember that it is his shirt you are wearing. Remember that no matter what you do, he will always surround you. “Please, Tae.” You have nothing left. You can’t bear to look at him, but where else will you go? You cannot believe the things he’s said, the things he’s done, but where else would you go?

“I love you, too,” Taehyung says, and a part of you wants so badly to believe him.

A part of you wants so badly to ingrain those words into your head, carve them into your heart, let him wrap his arms around you and promise that everything will be alright. But things are different now. Just like you said. You and Taehyung are not the same people you were six months ago. Or six weeks ago. Or even six minutes ago. You are helpless and he has proven that he does not care.

“I have to go,” you say, looking away. You don’t think you could handle turning back to him again. “Please, Tae.”

“I’m sorry,” Taehyung says, and he reaches out once more but you are not there to meet him halfway. Were you ever?

“I know,” you whisper back.

You duck into your bedroom and pack a suitcase of everything you need. Being here is suffocating. Being with him is like setting yourself alight.

Victoria has no questions when you show up at her door later that day, suitcase by your side and this ridiculous bottle of Merlot in your hands. You had picked it up on the way over. You sort of figured you might need it.

“You don’t wanna talk about it, do you?” Victoria asks.

“Tell me about your streaming service,” you hiccup in response.

Victoria is happy to oblige. She even tells you that she still hasn’t picked a CFO, and that the position would be open for you if you ever wished to take it.

Funnily enough, what will become of you once your father retires and passes along the company is the furthest away from your thoughts.

You remember being so worried about that. Being so worried that, once they married you off like every good daughter should be, you would be absorbed into your husband’s life, cut out of your family’s. Your father would choose a cousin, an uncle, or even a friend to take after the business, bestowing upon you a thoughtful inheritance but nothing more than that. All of those years of schooling, finance in college, your MBA soon after, would be wasted, just so you could hang on the arm of your husband for the rest of your life.

It’s thoughtful of Victoria to think of you for the position. She knows just as well as anyone else that you would be an excellent fit. And if things were just a little bit different, you would be jumping at the offer.

But your future career plans are on the backburner, along with the rest of your life.

All you can really do, right now, at this very moment, is wait for things to change. As they always do.

“Don’t you have an event tonight?” Victoria asks about three days into your stay. She’s given you her favorite (her words, not yours) guest bedroom and an enormous closet to match, despite you only coming over with a carry-on’s worth of clothes.

You scoff to yourself. “Like I’d want to go to anything with him.”

“Have you even called your parents?”

“No,” you say, not even caring about the repercussions. There’s no doubt in your mind that they’ll be ringing you soon. And when they do, maybe then you’ll finally work up the courage to tell them what really happened. Tell them that you can’t go back there. Not yet, at least.

“I’m sorry that this happened to you,” Victoria says as she hands you a bowl of vegetable soup, homemade from a couple of days ago. You nod to yourself, sniffling as you curl into the couch cushions and wish they would absorb you whole.

There’s no need to ask her what she means by ‘this’. Everything. From your engagement to the marriage, from those tabloids to the deal, from your grandmother’s death to now. It has all been unfair. Life is unfair. And while you’ve always known that, it has been particularly cruel to you as of late.

Still, when you wake up sometimes, you can still feel him tracing over your skin. Feel his lips hovering over yours, breath fanning out over your cheeks. You turn over and expect to see him lying there, on the right side of the bed, sheets mussed as they cover his figure. You wake up and for a brief moment, for that split, split second, there is peace. And happiness. And love.

And then there is nothing.

“Yeah,” you sigh. “Me, too.”

Maybe he really does love you. Maybe things really did change. But you have always been a pragmatic person, always let your head guide you rather than your heart. The secret’s out. Taehyung had an inheritance he needed to secure. You were his path to doing so. Those things haven’t changed. No matter if his feelings did.

“Hey, look at this,” Victoria says, brows furrowed as she holds out her phone in front of you, revealing a livestreamed interview from the event tonight.

You peer over.

It’s Taehyung.

Of course it’s Taehyung. Who else would she be showing you?

He stands in a clean-cut gray coat, draping over his figure, black dress shirt and slacks underneath, belt wrapped neatly around his hips. He holds his hand up in a wave and smiles politely to the cameras, to the reporters, letting the flashes wash over him like waves in the ocean.

“Mr. Kim! Mr. Kim!” Someone calls. “Where’s your wife?”

Oh, God.

Taehyung grimaces a little, pursing his lips. “My wife won’t be joining me tonight.”

“Can you tell us why?” They shout.

“Sorry, no more questions. Thank you for asking though. She’s well,” he says, quickly ushering himself along, entering the venue so no more reporters can bombard him. When he disappears, the livestream immediately moves on to the next guest, but you hardly pay them any attention.

“Huh,” Victoria says aloud.

Indeed. Taehyung’s response strikes you as rather odd. Why would he tell the public that? Why not make up a lie, say you’re sick, or you’re overseas, or you’re just late? Why simply tell them that you won’t be there? Surely, Taehyung is just as aware of the consequences of arriving at an event without you as you are. There’s no doubt that his parents will be in contact with him soon, too. No doubt that this will leave a stain on his family. His image. It might even threaten his inheritance after all.

So why not lie?

You frown to yourself, nose scrunching up in confusion. You don’t like where this train of thought leads.

“You okay?” Victoria asks when she sees the bewildered expression on your face.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine,” you say. Just completely befuddled. It escapes you, why Taehyung wouldn’t just make up some sort of excuse as to reasoning behind your absence. Why he would even show up at the event at all. Certainly, going to the event without you is worse than not going at all. It prompts questions. It spreads rumors.

Later that night, you get a call from your parents, demanding to know why you weren’t there with him. You say you got sick. You plead with them not to question anything.

You wonder what happens next. You and Taehyung still have two more events this week. A dinner and a ball. What will you do then?

Taehyung goes solo for the dinner. You suppose you could have predicted that, considering his apparent willingness to arrive alone for the first event, too. He hasn’t made any efforts to contact you and for once, you’re glad for his silence. Not that you even know what he would say to you, anyway, but at least he isn’t begging you to come back to him.

The sad truth is that if he did, if he got down on his knees right in front of you and willed you to come back home, you probably would. He has always been impossible to resist. Even when you first met him, when he sauntered up towards you and told you he was your dream come true. You didn’t know it then. But he was. He was everything you would ever want.

Why would he lie?

Why would he do that?

You can’t wrap your head around it. What is he getting out of it by telling the truth? By admitting to the paparazzi, to the reporters and the cameramen, that you won’t be there with him. That you will not be joining him. Nothing, certainly. His parents must be furious. His inheritance may be on the rocks. His image might tank.

So then, why do it at all?

Could it… could it be?

Is it true?

You have loved Taehyung for a long time. Longer than you probably even care to admit. You have always held your head high at events, spoken loudly and without fear, but being with him made you feel safe. Secure. You would hold his hand and know, know that he was holding yours, too. It grounded you. It soothed your worries.

Does he really love you back?

Taehyung smiles politely and laughs when he needs to at these events, but he doesn’t look the same. Even through the screen you can see those bags under his eyes, that spark that has faded. You hardly recognize him. He looks so lonely, without someone by his side. So distant.

When you know the dinner has ended, you almost pick up the phone and call him.

Almost.

Instead, when the ball rolls around, you ask Victoria if she’s got a spare dress she can lend you.

Kim Taehyung, for someone you have seen covered in paint splotches, wearing old college hoodies, and fresh out of a restless night’s sleep, cleans up pretty well. For a married man, at least.

You wonder what the past few days must have been like for him. If they have been as empty as your own. Wonder what it was like, riding alone in a big black van to this hotel ballroom, no one to tease, no one to laugh with, no one to hold. No one to poke him awake if he accidentally fell asleep. No one to make sure he’s okay.

Taehyung stands right outside of the entrance, waving politely to all of the paparazzi, smiling as the cameras flash, giving them the time of day for a moment before he heads inside and muscles his way through another event without you.

Or so he thinks.

You spot him just as he opens his mouth, ready to repeat those same lines all over again.

My wife won’t be joining me tonight. She’s well, though.

And maybe it’s just because you haven’t seen him in nearly a week. Maybe it’s just because he is about to lie to those reporters once more, ready to face whatever consequences come his way.

Or maybe it’s just because you miss him. Miss him terribly, have been missing him terribly. Being away from him was necessary, but that didn’t make it any less unbearable. Not getting to hold his hand, see his smile, meet his eyes. You and Taehyung may not have always liked each other, but you saw him every day regardless. He became a constant in your life. Not an if, but a when. If everything went to shit, you always knew he would still be there.

And there he is.

“Wait! Taehyung!”

Taehyung’s eyes widen as he hears your voice, gaze darting around wildly, mouth parted in surprise. He looks around desperately, scanning the crowd, meeting the eyes of every single person in front of him until he finally looks to the left, sees you rushing up towards him, hiking up the skirt of your dress as your heels tap against the sidewalk.

And when he spots you, sees you running up to him, his body relaxes, a weight lifted from his shoulders as he beams back at you, relieved and thankful and filled with joy, all at once. And you know, then.

You know that everything will be okay.

“Sorry I’m late,” you say sheepishly, cheeks burning as he looks at you, takes in every inch of you, breathes you in and lets you fill him up.

Taehyung doesn’t respond. You reach out to hold his hand but he grabs your wrist and pulls you in, presses you against his body as he presses his hands against your cheeks, palms burning as they meet your skin, and he kisses you. In front of all these people, he kisses you.

And goddamnit, you will kiss him back.

It feels like lightning, like a thunderstorm, like the waves of the ocean are crashing against your heart. It feels like fire, like flames are licking at your veins, sending sparks through your blood. It feels like home.

You and Taehyung ignore the shouts of reporters, the flashes of cameras, the honks of the cars on the other side of the road. When you part, he presses his forehead against yours and lets the tip of your nose meet his. And you smile.

“Don’t be alone any longer, Mr. Kim,” you whisper, loud enough so only he can hear.

“When I’m with you, I never am, Mrs. Kim,” he murmurs back.

You wonder what those tabloids will be saying about you tomorrow.

The rest of the night finds the two of you pretty much inseparable. You wrap yourself around his arm and for the first time in a long time, he presses his hand against the small of your back, keeping you close. Like he’d ever lose you again.

One of your least favorite parts about attending balls used to be the dancing. As a young and eligible bachelorette, you would always have to lock hands with another, let him awkwardly guide you along to the music as you made the worst small talk imaginable, forcing laughter and smiles whenever he said something he thought was particularly funny.

But, like so many others, things have changed. Things are different now.

The waltz comes on and you and Taehyung are the first to reach the center of the ballroom floor, letting him rest his hand on your waist as you press yours on top of his shoulder. Let him twirl you around the room as the orchestra plays in the background, a soft, sweet, light little melody that carries you along.

“I missed this,” you say softly.

“I missed us,” Taehyung corrects. He pauses for a moment, swallowing hard. “I’m sorry for not telling you about my inheritance.”

“I’m sorry for storming out. I should have listened to you.” you respond easily. You both have plenty to apologize for. But night is darkest right before dawn.

“I should have said something,” Taehyung says with a shake of his head. “But I was just so—so worried that something would go wrong. And I didn’t know how to explain how I felt about you. I acted in the beginning, too, but then things changed.”

“They always do,” you muse with a grin.

“I couldn’t believe I had you,” Taehyung admits. “I mean, look at you. You’re gorgeous. And funny. And true.”

“Go on,” you tease, even though you do nothing to hide the smile inching its way across your face, the heating of your cheeks, the simmering of your skin.

“Oh, shut up. You know what I mean.” Taehyung rolls his eyes. “I just—I felt something for you I couldn’t explain. I still can’t.”

You don’t have to prod any further. You know. Deep within your heart, you know. There is love blossoming in his to match the garden that has bloomed in your own. The flowers that have sprouted in the ashes. He has them, too. And when those petals open and the light streams in, he will know. He will know, too.

“You make me crazy,” you tell him, whispering gently into his skin. “But I’m a better person when I’m with you. I know I am.”

“I meant what I said, that night,” Taehyung says. Makes you wonder which night he’s actually talking about. “That I’m happy that things have changed. That things happened the way they did. I’m grateful for us.”

“I am, too,” you say. And you are.

You rest your head against his chest as you dance together, swaying back and forth to the beat of the drums, to the strums of the violins, all wrapped up together like ivy, like vines. Those, too, sit in that garden of yours. Keep you tethered to his side, keep him close to yours. He holds you in his arms and he smiles, because he knows, too. Knows that that garden in your heart will soon have a matching one in his. A mirror image of who you are. Who you’ve become.

Things change. They always will. But so long as he is by your side, and so long as you are by his, you know. Everything will be okay.

It's different, this time, when Taehyung presses you into the mattress.

There is no rush. Because now you know for certain that all the time in the world is yours. He is yours forever. You are his.

The two of you are a mixture of tangled limbs and shared breaths, the feverish, irrepressible need to give yourself to each other nearly tangible. He breaks the kiss suddenly, and you’re about to break out in protest. That is, until you see him unbuttoning his shirt.

Inspired, you wiggle out of your own clothes, eyes locked on Taehyung's soft torso and the idea that you had married such a beautiful man, inside and out.

Looking back, you wonder if that was always inevitable. If you and Taehyung falling into each other had been written in the stars from day one, sealed as your fate from the moment he came up to you at that ball when you were teenagers. He was going to be a part of your life no matter what. Whether or not you ended up marrying him. But having him like this?

It makes it all worth it.

"Do you like what you see?" That old cocky smirk of his makes an appearance.

You raise a brow, choosing to omit a response as you unclasp your bra, letting it fall from your chest.

Taehyung swallows.

"Do you?" You tease.

His response comes in the form of bites down your necks and licks down your chest, stealing your breath from you.

Your clothes are somewhere dispelled beside your passionate bodies, growing cold beside the way your two hot bodies warmed one another.

"You are so beautiful," Taehyung praises, fingers coming up to cup your breast, bringing it up to his mouth.

You mewl, wrapping an arm around his shoulders as his tongue toys with your pert bud, teeth grazing it ever so often just to hear the broken gasp that'd always follow.

"And so sensitive too," he giggles, making you pout. His hands are gentle as if every touch means something. As if you mean something—no, everything—to him. And the most wonderful part is that he means everything to you, too.

"Shut up." You roll your eyes playfully, gasping as his palm comes down the side of your thigh suddenly in warning. You bite down your swollen bottom lip at the gush of arousal that dampened your underwear in response.

"Watch your tone, love. Of both our positions, you are in the most compromising one." He reminds you. It isn't a threat, and while usually, that kind of tone would thrill you, you couldn't help but want his mouth back on yours already.

"You talk too much." You flop back onto the bed with a sigh. Taehyung watches with interest as your pretty tits bounce in consequence. Extending your hands out towards him, you give him a pouty look. "Just wanna kiss you."

"Is that all I am to you? Just a pair of lips for you to mack on? I've got news for you, sweetheart, there's a brain behind these ravishing good looks." He scoffs in feigned offense, sitting back on his heels.

You giggle.

It seems as though even during the most intimate of moments, Taehyung still found a way to be, well, Taehyung. At least that hasn’t changed.

"Whatever, pretty boy. Why don't you come over here and put that mouth of yours to good use?" You purr, making his eyebrows raise in surprise.

"Oh? I don't remember you being this assertive when I was pounding you into the mattress last time."

“What, I can’t have a little fun as well?” You tease, grinning as you look up at him, raking your eyes over his figure.

"Wanna have fun, love?," He murmurs into your ears, hands gripping either of your plush thighs. "Then spread those pretty legs for me, and I'll show you exactly how much fun you can have."

God, you love this man.

You oblige eagerly, breath quickening as he helped you press your knees by your chest, leaving the wet patch in your underwear on full display.

"My pretty little wife." He sighs dreamily, making heat rush to your core.

Taehyung's cock stood loud and proud, a hot reminder of where the night would eventually lead to. Seriously, how did you get so lucky? You must've been a saint in a previous life, you decide right then. Or at least, the stars have chosen to be rather kind to you in this one.

"Gonna take these off," he mutters, mostly to himself, tugging the ruined fabric over your ass and down your legs, with your help, of course.

Despite your usual display of confidence, lying beneath your husband, spread out like this, has you feeling vulnerable and slightly insecure. But that insecurity vanishes, however, as he lets out a soft moan, fingers moving to spread your glossed lips apart.

"So fucking pretty, baby. Gonna make you feel so fucking good," he groans, leaning down to press his face near your most intimate part.

Pressing a tentatively lick against, his eyes flicker up to yourself, curious to see if you’re okay with him proceeding. And, well, it’s not like you’re going to say no, are you?

Embarrassingly, you rut against him, making him laugh as you drown in your own mortification.

"Need it that bad, huh?" He coos.

"Yes, please."

The rest of your plea is lost in a moan as Taehyung finds your clit, wrapping his pink lips around the sensitive muscle and giving it a generous suck. Your hands are in his hair before you can think to stop yourself, tugging at his scalp deliciously as his mouth makes its way with you.

Thank goodness for this apartment belonging to just the two of you as the noises that tumbled from your lips surely would've left a roommate blushing.

You're panting, begging for more even though you aren't sure how you'd even handle more. It comes as a delight and slight surprise as fingers suddenly slip inside, wasting no time to rub against your velvety smooth walls, curling themselves inside you.

"Fuck, Tae!" you cry out, eyes squeezing shut.

It was pure reflex. Up until now, you had been watching Taehyung intently, completely consumed by the way his mouth moves against you. How his tongue flicks against your needy clit cruelly. It just felt too fucking good.

You're so wet, positively dripping down his chin as he runs his hot muscle up and down the length of your pussy, devouring you like he hadn't eaten in months, and you were his first meal.

Taehyung’s nothing short of addicting, completely and utterly intoxicating, and you slip further and further to your demise with every lick he takes, every press of his tongue against your clit.

He has a hand pressed against the lower half of your torso, feeling the way you jerk and squirm as he makes a mess of you. You’re close and you know it, too, if not by the way you’re calling his name over and over again, then by the way your thighs tremble, hardly even strong enough to stay up.

"Let go for me, love. I've got you." He sounds so sweet, so angelic, despite how filthy what he was doing to you was.

His words are the push you need, and, like a rubber band that has been stretched past its limit, you finally snap, back arching off the bed as you come with a cry. White fills your vision, and your mind goes blank, only sounds of blissful static filling your ears.

His fingers hold up your quivering legs, mouth pressing kisses onto your pussy encouragingly until you simply can't bear it any longer, pushing his mouth away as you stutter out words of sensitivity and overstimulation.

“I’m going to have to request more of that throughout this marriage.” You manage to say once your vision and breath come back to you.

Grabbing one of your hands, Taehyung brings it to his mouth.

“All you need do is ask,” he replies, making you laugh as he presses a kiss to the back of your hand, always a gentleman

Not long after, you find yourself pressed against Taehyung, tongue running against his as he presses his hips into yours. He isn’t coy about his want for you, rolling his cock against your already sensitive center. Warm precum leaks onto your lower abdomen, and suddenly, all you can think about is having him inside you again.

“Taehyung?”

You don’t even need to ask. Hitching your leg around his thigh, he knows exactly what you’re seeking, lining up his leaking cock with your swollen entrance.

Pressing into you, he buries himself to the hilt, groaning out as your warmth envelopes him. You moan out so prettily for him, feeling tight and full with your first orgasm only minutes ago.

“You okay?” he hums, kissing your cheek.

You nod, ears warm at the intimacy of the moment. In many ways, this is nothing like your first time together. You are face to face, eye to eye, heart to heart. Between your bodies could be found more than just desire, but commitment. Devotion. Love.

“I love you, Tae.” You gush, sighing out as he begins to rock into you.

He falters slightly at your confession but recovers quickly, intertwining his hand with yours and pressing it by your head.

Faintly, you realize.

That was the first time you had ever told him that.

You look up at him, expecting some wide eyes or even a bit of a nervous tilt to his lips, but all you are met with is a glow. He beams down at you, and your heart swells.

“I love you, too, Y/N,” he whispers, but you hear the words in your ears loud and clear.

Soft noises fill the room as the two of you become one—hearts synchronizing with one another in silent promise.

It was a promise unlike the one you had made to each other that day at the altar, for this one was real. This one was true.

You shutter with every thrust of his hips, your abused clit finding itself in the crossfire of Taehyung’s passionate motions.

Whimpering, you cling to him, overwhelmed and emotional, like your heart was about to burst. Taehyung lights a fire in you, sends lightning straight through your core. Every word, every smile, every kiss, every touch, they send shivers down your spine, tingles throughout your skin. It’s like you’re falling in love with him all over whenever you see him, whenever his deep brown eyes meet your own.

You remember being so afraid of love that you broke up with all your old boyfriends because of it. Because you couldn’t commit, because you were worried about your career, because they just didn’t give you that spark. But lying here pressed against him, against your husband, you aren’t afraid. Wrapped up around him, tangled up in him, you know.

Between messy kisses and words of adoration, you find yourself growing closer and closer to your release. Brows furrowed and neck flushed, you come with a soft whimper of his name, coaxing his own orgasm out of him. He lets go inside you, painting you with his seed in a way that pleases you to no end.

Hand still in yours, he gives it a squeeze, pressing a kiss onto your damp chest, right over where your heart beats for him.

“I love you,” Taehyung says again when you meet his eyes, firmer this time, louder. Like he’s worried you didn’t believe him the first time.

“I know,” you say with a giggle, the words going straight to your head—and your heart.

Taehyung scowls. “What, no ‘I love you’ back? Is that what I’m hearing?”

“Well, only because you want one so badly,” you tease, pressing a quick kiss to his round button nose. “I love you, too, Tae. Always will.”

“I think I knew, then,” Taehyung says with a fond sigh, nostalgia overcoming his expression. “That first time we met. I knew you would be mine, one day.”

“You got lucky,” you scoff slightly. “But I’m glad things happened the way they did.”

“You’re my dream come true, Y/N,” he says.

“And you are mine,” you murmur.

As the two of you drift off, all twisted up in each other, so mixed up you can’t figure out where you end and he begins, you think back to that night. That ball.

“Who are you?” You ask, nose scrunched up in distaste. Before you stood a boy you had never met before, wearing shoes that were too big for him and a suit that was a touch too small.

He grins at you, running a hand through his perfectly-styled hair fringe swiped neatly over his forehead, and he says, “your dream come true.”

And so it was.

don’t forget to message me! ~ and don’t forget to message rose!

8K notes · View notes