#I SHOULD MAKE A PLAYLIST FOR BROOKE

[hiya-duke]

I think Brooke's second favorite song is we didnt start the fire by Billy Joel and everytime she listens to it and they sing the chorus she just sings 🎶cause it was IIIII🎶 or something along those lines

[badolmen]

I understand that a lot of different factors influenced the tonal shift of country music post 9/11 toward strong nationalist and misogynistic themes, but as someone who listens to/actually likes a lot of the music from that era, I’m personally blaming Toby Keith. He’s my Ronald Reagan of 2000s country music.

[nolita-fairytale]

don't you worry, there's still time | chef luca x fem!reader, feat. marcus brooks

summary: after losing his mother, marcus searches for joy and stillness in copenhagen. you and luca, who are more than happy to host, decide to take a big next step in your relationship. a oneshot from the world of 'burn your life down.'

warnings: fluff, light angst, grief, death, light smut, second person pov, swearing, danish inaccuracies, off-canon connection to the storyline of the bear.

word count: 5.8k

listen to: the playlist

a/n: wow, i missed this world! who is ready for the reveal of chef's restaurant name?! while i don't think i have the bandwidth to write another full series (nor a linear story to tell) i'm thinking of creating a second part to 'burn your life down' where we just get to drop in and see what they're up to. thoughts??

chef luca masterlist | full masterlist

After a tumultuous holiday season, it doesn’t take long for Sydney to realize that her friend is in need of a little help. A reprieve, she so kindly explained to both Marcus and Carmy when she’d proposed the idea. 

It was Sydney this time, who called Luca, knowing that she and Carmy would have to find something to do with Marcus. It wasn’t fair – that he’d lost his mom just before Thanksgiving – and they both agreed that Marcus needed to get out of dodge. Quick to act, Carmy set up a few stages in NYC for a week or so, which, while seemed to inspire Marcus, seemed to only plunge him further into a slump come Christmas. “I don’t know. I think we gotta send him on some kinda… eat, pray, love trip. The guy can only sulk on my couch for so long before I consider jumping out of the window,” Sydney says, her attempt to lighten the mood with humor still genuine. “It’s getting sad, Carm. Like… real fuckin’ sad.”

“You’re right. Uh… what about Copenhagen?” Carmy pitches with a shrug, because he knows what all consuming grief feels like. 

“Again?” she asks, uncertain of whether it’s the best choice that they could make. 

“Yeah,” Carmy shrugs in response. “Think he got a lot of it last time. Could be good for him to go back to somewhere familiar… work with Luca again. You don’t think it’s a-?”

“No I do! I just-,” Sydney hesitates, though she knows her business partner makes a good point. “Familiarity will be good for him. To be around people he can trust.”

“You want me to uh-,” Carmy begins to offer, figuring he’ll make the call. 

“Probably best if I explain the situation. Just ‘cause, you know, I know more of what’s going on… just send me his info and I’ll call later,” Sydney interjects. 

Carmy agrees with a curt nod before adding in:

“Uh… okay yeah. Yeah.”

*

You get plenty of time to prepare for Marcus’ visit, performing all kinds of fancy footwork to arrange a proper visit – a week’s worth of time spent staging and living in Copenhagen. When Luca finds out that the prolific houseboat, a chef retreat of sorts that’s always been an option for lodging, is booked for the week and a half that Marcus plans on visiting, you offer up your place without hesitation. 

The arrangement goes as follows: while Marcus stays at yours at no cost, you’ll stay with Luca for the duration of the time. 

This is how you find yourself at the massive Ikea on Dybbølsbro on a Saturday morning with Luca, in search of a set of fresh bed linens intended for guests. 

“I really should host more. And Astrid said she and Lina were planning a trip out here so… why not kill two birds with one stone?” you’d reasoned to your boyfriend, making a strong case for why you and Luca should make this little shopping trip. 

“What do you think of the blue?” Luca asks you, as you run your hand over a set of the display sheets, checking for softness. 

“Don’t know if the blue is what I’m going for. I was thinking of something warmer. Maybe a yellow or… I don’t know. I’ve kind of been into that trendy rust color as of late,” you reply with a shrug, moving onto the warmer colors. 

Luca chuckles and with a small shake of his head, he clarifies his previous questions with:

“No, I meant for me.”

“What do you mean?” you ask him curiously, his comment pulling all of your focus as you search his face for answers. “You just got new bedding.” 

And expensive ones too. 

But as your eyes follow his gaze, you realize that he’s not talking about sheets, focused on the XL Twin-sized duvets just above where the sheets messily fall along the shelf. 

“I was thinking…” Luca trails off, checking in with you before he continues, with “... maybe it’s time I get two duvets… you know… for us.” He takes a beat, and a step towards you, and you know you’ll never stand a chance against his boyish charm as one side of his mouth turns up into a smile. 

You’re no stranger to the Scandinavian duvet method – two twin duvets for one king sized bed – but it sounds like Luca’s suggestion is about way more than buying an extra duvet on this trip. 

“I want you to feel at home… at my place."

“I do,” you reply, almost instantly, a warmth spreading through your belly as you take a step towards him. 

“But I mean really… feel like it’s your home. Because it is. It could be. You know… if you want it to be,” Luca continues, this time with more insistence, a look of hopefulness in his deep blue eyes. 

“Are you… are you asking me to move in with you?” you manage to get out, your heart skipping a beat. 

“Why not? We could use this week to try it out,” he suggests so casually that you practically have to do a double take. “See how it goes while Marcus stays at your place?”

“Yeah I-... that sounds like a good plan, yeah,” you stammer out, the grin on your face undeniable as you nod enthusiastically in the middle of a goddamn furniture store. 

“Besides,” Luca says, clearing his throat as his tone changes to one that’s much more playful. “You’re an absolute blanket hog and a repeat offender at that.” Luca winks your way as you roll your eyes with a laugh in response. “This could prevent some of our silly little quarrels, don’t you think, love?” 

“Uh huh,” you sound, your face skeptical as you look his way again. “Preventative measures. Sure, babe.”

Luca chuckles before leaning down to press a chaste kiss to your lips, right then and there, in the Ikea bed linen section, the place you’ll now forever think of as the place your boyfriend asked you to move in with him.

Connection

When Marcus arrives in Copenhagen, you’ve arranged your home with the most comfort in mind, having already packed a week’s worth of things and left for Luca’s. You can only imagine what he must be going through, deciding that something like that – losing your mother – though inevitable, is your goddamn worst nightmare. 

“Marcus, 

Enjoy your stay and please reach out if you need anything. I can’t wait to meet you!”

…is the note that you leave him, along with a few morning pastries you picked up from your favorite baggeri across the street, and your number scribbled down at the bottom of the notepad. 

As Marcus arrives, his eyes drawn immediately to your note and gift, Marcus smiles to himself, noticing that you left a very nice looking bottle of wine on the counter as well. He’s moved by your generosity, considering you’ve never met, and the fact that you’re willing to take so much care, extend this much kindness to a stranger, causes a wave of softness to wash over him. 

Maybe, just maybe, he can find softness again – the last few months riddled with pain, grief, and numbness to get through the days. 

While he came here to work, encouraged by his friends that a change of scenery may do his broken heart some good, it’s the first time Marcus has had a chance to be still. His feelings of grief sit heavier here and it catches him off guard, uncertain that he’s quite ready to sit with them yet. He pushes aside the thought, focusing on exploring your home and unpacking his bags. Marcus knows how to stay busy – he’s become an expert at it by now – reminding himself that he’s got work at 5 am sharp tomorrow.

*

“A little too much, chef. Take it down by about 15 grams,” Luca directs, his voice even and sure as he inspects the balls of dough that Marcus currently shapes. 

“Yes, chef,” Marcus nods in understanding, plopping the ball of dough back on the scale to adjust the measurement. 

The two of them work like this for the rest of the morning, Luca treading carefully while keeping things professional, while Marcus buries himself in the work – something that feels good, safe, right. 

He’s missed this. While Marcus has one chef he works with directly at the restaurant, he’s the expert – the head patissier. He misses being surrounded by excellence, getting to be a student of someone who is just as driven, if not more, and inspired. It’s good, quiet, calm, yet there’s a focus and intensity in Luca’s kitchen that feels like a breath of fresh air. 

His stage trip to New York has been more of a mess than beneficial. Maybe it had been the chaos of the city, or the chaos of the chefs he was working with. Maybe it was the fact that Marcus, though hungry for a distraction, hadn’t quite been ready to walk directly into the line of fire yet.

As Marcus’ practiced hands move with the dough, there’s a newfound confidence in the way that he works that's not lost on Luca. Luca watches his friend carefully, pride swelling in his chest as his mentee makes the adjustment with ease and diligence.

“Can I join you?” Luca asks, gesturing towards Marcus' workstation. 

“‘Course, chef,” Marcus replies, his response short yet reverent. 

As Luca joins him, finding a space to the right of Marcus, he busies his hands with rolling each perfectly measured ball of dough into mini boules, ready to proof. The two of them work quietly, side by side, the air between them heavy with words unsaid. He can feel it – the weight that lays so heavily on Marcus' heart – but Luca doesn’t want to bring it up, uninterested in forcing the conversation. Especially about something so painful, something he knows that Marcus has barely begun working through. 

“Thanks, again. For uh… you know… letting me come work,” Marcus begins, momentarily checking in with Luca to gauge a reaction. 

“‘Course,” Luca replies, his answer instantaneous. “You’re welcome here any time, mate.” 

“Yeah?” Marcus asks, stealing a glance in Luca’s direction.

“Yeah,” Luca responds with a certain nod. 

“And uh… shit. I can’t thank your girlfriend enough for letting me crash at her place,” Marcus adds, as he works through his discomfort and overwhelm from the wave of feelings that begin to bubble up in his chest.

“You can thank her yourself on Saturday,” Luca brings up, excited over the fact that Marcus will not only be meeting his girlfriend, but staging at her restaurant too. “She’s really looking forward to meeting you.” 

Marcus nods slowly, his hands the only steady thing about him as he continues to focus on his work. 

“I just mean-, well, she didn’t have to-. ‘S not like either of you owed it to me or anything and I-. You guys just really came through…” Marcus trails off, wanting to make his gratitude clear. It means more to him that he can articulate so instead he settles for, “So thank you. Again.”

Luca shrugs with an aplomb about him as he returns with, “We got you, mate.” He pauses before continuing, fully aware that Marcus isn’t quite comfortable with the feelings that have presented themself in this moment. “And the way I see it, I wouldn’t have met her if it weren’t for you – for our conversation the last time you were here – so we really do owe you for it.”

This time Luca makes an effort to check in with Marcus, gauging his emotional capacity as he concludes with:

“But that’s not what any of this is about: debts, who owes who what. We were both more than happy to host you. That’s what mates are for.”

It’s not till the end of the next shift that it hits him, and Marcus finds himself sitting outside of the restaurant on a bench across the street. He’s not sure whether it’s the jet lag or the exhaustion of the 5 am start time in another time zone, but it hits him all at once, like a ton of bricks. Suddenly consumed with the feelings that he’s been trying his best to avoid, all he can do is pause, completely caught off guard by the strength of them. 

Quietly, Luca joins him, having spotted him on his way home, rerouting himself in Marcus’ direction instead. 

All he can think of are the words you’ve asked him, and he you, time and time again – the ones that cut right to the core of you each and every time – that show you how much he cares. 

“How’s your heart?” Luca asks Marcus, after a few minutes of sitting on the bench together in silence. 

And how is his heart? 

He’s not sure how to answer, considering it’s been a while since he’s really had a chance to check in, the crippling reality of this great loss is too much to bear alone. 

His heart is broken, shattered into an infinite amount of pieces. 

He, and his heart will never be the same again and he doesn’t know where or how he’ll ever put it back together. 

His heart is… lost, in desperate need of finding a soft place to land. 

Marcus takes a while to answer, racking his brain for any semblance of a cohesive answer. 

He waits. And then he waits. 

Until finally, he can answer. 

“I uh… don’t know. But I’m hoping this trip will help me figure that out.”

Creativity 

“do you remember the 21st night of september? love was changin' the minds of pretenders while chasin' the clouds away.” (earth, wind, and fire.)

Everything about the way you run your kitchen feels different than what he’s used to. 

It’s sure as hell different from his last stage trip to New York, Marcus thinks to himself.

With Carmy and Syd, working with them, there’s a buzz of chaos that runs underneath even the most organized and efficient service. It’s something integral to what they have, gives an edge to The Bear that seems to make it hum in all the right ways. Even with Luca, who comes from fine dining and Michelin-starred restaurants, there’s a quiet and determined focus – an intensity to his work – even without the undercurrent of chaos. 

But this. But you. 

Your kitchen somehow teeters the line of organized chaos and reckless play so well that Marcus understands why this works – why it’s efficient. 

Still, he watches as you and your staff dance – no, literally dance – around each other to the highly recognizable Earth, Wind, and Fire tune. Mathilde sings along while chopping chives for the brothy mushroom grain bowl, while, mid-phrase, manages to yell out a short command to a line cook in Danish. Out of the corner of his eye, Marcus catches Jesper working the dining room, while you finish plating two more dishes, ready to be walked out. 

It’s as if you find focus in the center of all the noise, somewhere between the electric energy between you, Mathilde, and your staff, and the feel-good vibes and homeyness of the restaurant that you’ve created. 

You had been more than welcoming when Marcus had walked through the doors of your restaurant, Kokuore, mere hours ago. You’d given him the tour, shown him which station he’d be working this evening, then warmly introduced him to your entire team before family meal started. Marcus can’t stop moving, too afraid to be still in fear of falling apart in the presence of how comforting you’ve been. 

And this? Your kitchen. It’s all joy, connection, and artistry. 

It’s not hard for him to see why Luca fell in love with you. 

“Marcus, feel free to take a break,” he hears you say, as you nod towards the dining room through the open kitchen. 

As Marcus follows your gesture, he notices that Luca’s arrived, remembering something about a standing Saturday date. 

“You sure, chef?” Marcus asks, looking to you for approval. 

“Positive,” you nod, reassuringly.

Marcus nods in return to confirm, before taking his apron off and making his way over to the dining room where Luca is exchanging a few words with Jesper. 

“Wassup, chef,” he greets his mentor. 

“You know, you can call me Luca,” Luca reminds him with a crooked smile. “At least when we’re off the clock.”

Marcus chuckles, “Uh… yeah alright. That’s gonna take some getting used to.” 

Luca chuckles in return, before Jesper shows them to his table, mentioning something about Americans being so afraid of fluidity. 

“She’s brilliant isn’t she?” Luca asks, in reference to you as his eyes catch yours from across the room. 

“Nah for real. Like… mad scientist vibes,” Marcus concurs with a smile. “She can throw down for sure.” He pauses as they sit down at Luca’s table. “So you come every Saturday night, huh?”

“When I can, yeah, which is… most Saturdays,” Luca replies honestly, before beginning to list why he’s kept up this routine. “But it’s nice. Keeps me inspired. I get to see my girl, walk her home at night which makes me feel better.” Luca leans back in his chair this time, crossing his arms over his chest. “And I never mind helping close down at the end of the night.”

Marcus hums in response before one of the waitstaff comes to their table, with a glass of wine in hand, on the house. They chat for a little longer before Marcus returns to the kitchen, his excitement for what you’re doing here filling him to the brim. 

As dinner service comes to an end, Marcus can’t help but notice the chemistry and how unique it is as you all work together in perfect harmony. There’s a warmth to it, something different, and he begins to understand why the name of the restaurant comes from the word, heart. 

Luca is quick to get up from his table, quickly finishing his glass of wine as he offers to help close down. The music volume goes from underscoring the buzz of a busy night of service, to the main attraction, as a motown throwbacks playlist begins to blare from the speakers. You all work quickly and efficiently, eager to close down, get home, and begin your weekends, but it’s when an old Otis Redding track that Luca decides to put a pause on the progress. 

“Dance with me, my love,” he says, offering his hand out to you as a huge gesture that earns a few looks and giggles from some of your staff. 

“Luca,” you begin to protest, looking around. 

“You can take three minutes,” he offers, exchanging a look with you this time. 

You nod, taking his hand as you agree with, “Okay.”

And as Luca wraps you up in his arms, engaging you in a slow dance to Otis Redding’s “That’s How Strong my Love is,” you chuckle, relaxing into him.

“Oh, get a room, you two!” Jesper calls out after you, teasingly. 

“She pretends – always puts up a fight – as if they don’t do this every single week,” Mathilde adds, as an explanation to Marcus. 

“Every week?” Marcus asks, a little surprised by both you and Luca’s willingness to pause and revel in a moment with each other, instead of just pushing through. 

“Yeah. Romantics, they are,” Jesper chimes in. 

Marcus smiles to himself. It’s a reminder of slowness – something he hasn’t let himself experience in a long time – and for just a moment, he lets himself settle into the feeling. 

*

You don’t even mind that you woke up an hour before your alarm the moment you feel Luca’s arms wrapped around you, and his lips against your soft skin. The low rumble of his voice resonates across your shoulders, sending chills down your spine as you arch into his hands, his arms wrapped around you. 

“I know we’re only a few days in… of our little trial,” Luca begins, the bass of his voice reverberating through your shoulder blade.

“Our living together trial?” you clarify with your ask, letting out a gasp as he nibbles on your shoulder gently. 

“Yeah. Just wonderin’ where your mind’s at,” Luca murmurs, his eager hands beginning to explore underneath the oversized shirt you put on before bed last night. 

“Well… I really like this,” you reply, the sound that comes out of your mouth somewhere between a giggle and a moan. 

“Hmmmm?” Luca sounds, innocently. 

“This… Waking up to you thing.”

“Oh yeah?” 

“Mhm.”

Luca’s name escapes your lips as his fingers gently begin to play with your nipples, his erection hard against your back as you begin to grind your hips back against. 

“And the access to round the clock sex is really a bonus,” you sigh, blissfully. 

“Oh yeah?” he asks you again, a large tatted hand slipping between your legs. 

“Yeah… I’d even be… interested in leaning into that part… right now,” you hiss in reply to his touch. “Considering you’re distracting me with sex.”

“Hmmmmm. ‘S not just it, love. Have I told you how grateful I am for what you’ve done for Marcus?” Luca asks, his mouth back on your neck. He presses your body against him, your back to his chest as he rocks his hips against yours. 

“Luca!” you protest, unable to focus on the conversation. 

“It’s your kindness. Your heart… I’m in awe of it,” he continues to praise you as the two of you begin to set a rhythm between your bodies. 

It’s all heat, and soft sighs of pleasure, and foreplay.

“Well, I know a little something about what he’s going through,” you answer breathlessly. You begin to impatiently push the hem of your shirt higher so that you can give Luca more access to your body. 

“That’s why I love you,” Luca murmurs into your skin, his hands all over you, his focus unbroken and your mind beginning to go blank. His hands are tearing your shirt over your head as he continues to praise you. “Your heart, the way you share it.”

“You helped me get there, baby,” you gasp, turning your head so that you can kiss your boyfriend. 

Instead of answering, Luca nods knowingly, before crashing his lips into yours. His mouth on yours feels like heaven, and you can’t believe that you ever fought your feelings for him. 

“Ah fuck it. Let’s do it. Let’s move in together,” you surrender to him, lost in the moment. 

“Yeah?” Luca pauses, pulling away, as if almost can’t believe what he’s hearing. 

“Yeah. I mean it, baby,” you nod, catching his gaze, certain in the way you answer. “I wanna wake up to you every morning.”

“Me too, my love,” Luca grins, before pressing his lips to yours again. “Now will you please let me fuck you, darling?”

“Fuck yes.”

Luca spends the next hour showing you just how grateful he is for you, while you in return, spend the next hour showing him just how sure you are about this decision. 

And you are sure. If mornings like this are a constant for the rest of your life, you think you’ll die a happy woman. 

You’ve found a home in him, and he, you. He’s the person you want to come home to at the end of the day. He’s the man that puts a smile on your face every single time he gets on his soapbox about how Beyonce is the performer of your lifetimes, and he is unequivocally the best, most unexpected thing in your life. 

Luca Davies, in almost a year of knowing him, and eight months of getting to love him, has somehow become your favorite person. 

By the time you and Luca are both showered and decent-for-company, you’ve begun your mise en place for brunch, completely content with the fact that you’re running a little behind schedule (and in all fairness, the sex was worth it – it’s always worth it). The smell of bacon sizzling away on your carbon steel fry pan fills the entire apartment, and you’re glad that Luca opened a window earlier. It’s not exactly window weather yet, but the air ventilation is a must when it comes to smoked meats.

While you play catch up with your brunch plan, Luca’s busy welcoming Marcus in, pouring him a cup of coffee using the extensive ten-step pour over he’s been fixated on ever since he purchased it, while they chat here and there about what else he’s explored in Denmark. 

“Been too busy working, to be honest but… I don’t know. I might wander around today… see what kind of stuff I can get into,” Marcus answers frankly with a shrug. 

“Ah, mate. We just had a walk at the Frederiksberg Gardens. Definitely something I’d recommend checking out,” Luca suggests, his eyes lighting up with excitement as he mentions it. 

Luca continues moving through his list of recommendations, Marcus chiming in with places and things he did the last time he was here, excited to spend a few days exploring the city instead of just working. 

“Wanderin’ around. I dunno. There’s something about it. ‘S good for the spirit, you know?” Luca concludes. 

“Yeah,” Marcus nods in agreement, before turning his attention over to the French toast you’re working on. “Okay, I see you. What is that? Mascarpone?”

“Yeah, good eye. It’s just something new I’m working on: a mascarpone stuffed french toast. We’re actually talking about extending our hours… maybe doing weekend brunch,” you answer thoroughly, as you dip the stuffed pieces of bread into their egg batter, pre-cook. 

“For real? That’s sick,” Marcus compliments, watching you carefully. “I mean… shit. You could have a whole brunch spot.”

“What do you mean?” you ask, looking up from your cutting board. 

“A Brunch spot,” Marcus repeats, simply, the excitement in his eyes at the new idea, evident. “Yeah, you know. Luca could do the morning pastries. You work your magic on the rest of the menu.”

“That’s a novel idea! What do you think, my love?” Luca asks, intrigue in his voice as he searches your face for a reaction. 

“I-,” you begin, looking from Luca to Marcus, then back to Luca again. “I… never thought about it like that.” You take a beat, eyeing Luca carefully. “We’ve never talked about going into business together.”

Marcus shrugs, before picking up his coffee mug, “Yo, it’s just a thought. I think you two would be unstoppable together.”

“Unstoppable, eh?” Luca asks, his eyes locked with yours. 

You only hum in response, raising a quirked eyebrow in Luca’s direction before adding:

“It’s certainly one hell of an idea, Marcus.”

Kokuore

Monday afternoon, you find yourself at your restaurant with Marcus Brooks, on a day off. 

“I might need a little extra help with something tomorrow. We’re closed tomorrow, but I want to get ahead on this special I’m working on. Could use the help of a pastry chef. What do you say?” you’d proposed to him, over one more espresso before he left. 

To Luca’s dismay, (“ you silly Americans just can’t enjoy a day of doing nothing,” he’d teased the two of you) Marcus had given you an unwavering yes, reassuring you that he was down to learn everything he possibly could from you, especially while he was here. 

And it’s true. You do need the help. But should he want someone to talk to – someone who gets it, even just a little bit – you want to offer him the space and the opportunity to do so.

“As a patissier, do you get tasked with pasta? At The Bear?” you ask Marcus, as you pleat a dumpling in hand with a speed that only comes with practice. 

“Nah,” Marcus sounds, his focus on the dumpling he’s pleating too. His concentration on getting the pleats right is reverent and unbroken, even as he answers your question. “Our head chef, Carmy, he uh… he comes from an Italian American family so when we’ve done a stuffed pasta… he usually takes the lead on that.” 

You nod in understanding, placing the dumpling you’ve just finished down on the full-sized sheet pan. The two of you sit across from each other, having pushed a few dining tables together as a makeshift workstation. 

“Think Luca’ll take over this kinda stuff when you guys open a restaurant together?” Marcus asks, lightheartedly pushing his agenda from yesterday. 

You laugh in response, your hands working quickly on yet another dumpling. 

“For someone with no skin in the game, you’re really insistent on this idea,” you tease him in return. 

“Don’t tell me you’ve never thought about it,” Marcus pushes right back, his tone still light. 

“I…” you sigh, trailing off as you pause your work for a moment. “You know, we just said we’d move in together. That and a restaurant? Feels fast.” 

“Oh shit.”

“Yeah.”

“Like… a few hours before you came over for brunch,” you elaborate, earning a whistle from Marcus. The two of you exchange a look, and a laugh, as you pick up another dumpling wrapper that you and Marcus rolled out together earlier. 

“It’s a good idea though,” you add, stealing a glance his way so that he knows that you’re serious. 

“Well, when you two inevitably do open a restaurant… I want ten percent,” Marcus jokes, earning another laugh from you. 

“Deal,” you agree with him. 

You and Marcus work like this, exchanging a few words, the conversation light, underscored by a softer acoustic soundtrack from one of your Spotify radio stations.

“So how’d you learn to cook like this?” Marcus asks you curiously. 

“Uh…” you hesitate, treading carefully as you realize this conversation could open a can of worms. 

“I don’t know how much Luca’s told you about me… but I was married… before him,” you begin, cautiously. “And… well, I learned a lot of this… a lot of traditional Japanese cooking from my mother-in-law.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. These are her dumplings actually – her recipe. She passed away last Fall and… well, it was important to me to celebrate her – to celebrate her life – by creating a few dishes for her,” you continue, and it’s as if all of the air has been sucked out of the room. “We’re bringing this one back as a special this month but um… yeah. I’m… still very much grieving and… it helps me remember her. Cooking her food helps me feel close to her, you know?”

“Yeah,” Marcus sighs, his heart heavy as he exhales. 

He waits a beat. 

And then another, having paused his work as he watches you pleat, head down, with expert hands. 

The silence between you and Marcus is full, heavy, connected by shared experience. You wait for Marcus to say something, and when he doesn’t, you decide to continue. 

“This restaurant… has so much of my heart in it: it’s got my love for Italian food from growing up in my best friend’s family’s restaurant, and it’s got my love for her – for Aiko – and everything she taught me,” you begin to explain. “And lately… it’s got a fresh perspective… inspired by the love I have with Luca, I think. Well, I know. Inspired by him… how this place brought us together.”

“The name itself is… totally made up, but means a lot to me. The Japanese word for heart is, kokoro, and the Italian word for heart is, cuore. Somehow an homage to my past… and was… Prophetic in so many ways too.” 

As Marcus listens, Luca’s previous question lingers in his head:

How’s your heart?

At the time he didn’t know how to answer, and after five days in Copenhagen – after five days of doing what he loves in a place that he loves – his heart is somehow so full, yet so broken all at once. He’s filled with deep sorrow and with the spark of creativity all at the same time, and he’s just not sure how to hold all of this feeling inside of him. 

Marcus waits a beat, opens his mouth, then lets the words fall out. 

“It’s evident. In your food,” is all he manages to say. “It’s got soul. It’s got heart. I-, it’s inspiring. That’s for sure.” 

“I made a dish. For Michael,” Marcus adds, his eyes on the dumpling he works on, but the guard on his heart beginning to fall away. “He was uh… well, he was the old owner of the restaurant, called The Beef back then. Carmy took over after he died. Felt right to honor him and his life, you know? When we reopened as The Bear.”

“Food is… it’s our art, you know?” you agree. “Sometimes it’s the only way I know how to express myself and… sometimes it’s just the thing that makes sense.”

“Yeah.”

A beat. 

“Maybe one day I can make one for my mom,” Marcus says, his voice stuck in his throat as he admits, “I don’t know if I’m ready yet. But I think… I think I’d like to eventually.” 

“Of course,” you reassure him gently. “You don’t have to be ready now. You don’t have to be ready ever. But when you are, your art will always be there.” 

“Thanks,” Marcus nods solemnly. 

You get up this time, realizing the sheet pan is full, and ready to be placed on the baker’s rack. As you return to the table with a new empty sheet pan, lined with parchment paper, Marcus finally asks you, his eyes soft, the heartbreak in them present. 

“How’d you get through? You know. Losing her? Your mother-in-law?” 

You return to your chair with a heavy sigh. 

“I’ll let you know when I do,” you answer, letting up a soft chuckle. “It helps to have good people and… from what Luca’s told me, you do. But… I had to let ‘em in, let ‘em help me. Let ‘em love me. And in all honesty, most days I’m still just… taking it day by day.” 

“Yeah, I-. I do. I got some really good people. Back home,” Marcus drags out slowly. 

“Then that’s all that matters. Your people and your heart. The rest… you just-,” you start. 

“Take day by day?” Marcus interjects, pausing to catch your eyes. 

You and Marcus exchange a knowing look, the recognition of each others’ pain is met with empathy. 

“Yeah. I think that's all we can do.”

By the end of your work session with Marcus, you’re ready to head home so that you can spend the rest of the day with Luca. 

“What’re you gonna do with the rest of your day?” you ask Marcus, curiously. 

With a sigh, and then a shrug, and a heart that feels just a little lighter, he answers with:

“Think I might wander around a bit. Someone once told me it’s good for the spirit.”

[lebrookestore]

sixteen | l.dh [part ii]

Pairing: Lee Donghyuck x reader

Themes: strangers to lovers, highschool! au, coming of age, lovers to exes, exes to lovers to ??, producer! donghyuck (very lightly explored), roommates! au but with a twist, second chance romance, slowburn, angst, fluff, romance, PG 15. (moodboards: i | ii)

Warnings: profanity, heavy ANGST, kissing, food, underage alcohol consumption and alcohol consumption in general, drug use, smoking (vaping, cigarettes and weed consumptions), crude humour, teenagers doing dumb shit as teenagers do, cheating, betrayal.

Word count: 21.6k

Summary: Youth is always accompanied with a fragile glimmer of hope, with you and Donghyuck viewing the world through the rosiest of glasses. But as the ephemeral days of teenage foolishness bleed into the harshness of adulthood, the rosy hue begins to diminish, and you learn that for some people, it just isn’t meant to be.

Playlist: here 

Notes from brooke: here it is!! the second and final part of this fic that has taken me a whole year to write and i'm as proud of it as I am nervous to put out the rest of it here for all of you. as always, feedback would be much appreciated<3

➳ read part i here!!

vii] now.

The aroma of coffee beans being ground wafted through the air, somehow managing to brighten your foul mood. You had never been much of a morning person and could barely start your day without some form of caffeine in your system. On most days, you made your coffee at home before setting out to work, but today you wanted to treat yourself a little bit, and what better way than to put your money towards something practical? 

(This was a hundred percent your attempt at trying to convince yourself the overpriced eight dollar coffee you had just ordered was worth it.)

“Iced Latte for Y/n?”

You got up from the stool you had occupied, making your way over to the counter and barista who had called for you. In another life, you would be one of those cool working ladies who managed to down americanos without flinching, but in this one you were quite content with the milky sweet goodness of a latte. You handed over the money you owed and lifted the straw to your lips, sighing in happiness as soon as the drink hit your tastebuds. 

“Hey, I had placed my order…” A man's voice startled you, but it wasn’t the abruptness that caught you off guard- that was pretty typical for a busy Tuesday morning in New York- but rather the familiarity of it as it trailed off. You spun on your heel quickly, coming face to face with a rather dumbfounded looking Donghyuck. 

You stared at him, lips parting in surprise at his presence there. The barista behind cleared her throat expectantly, waiting for Donghyuck to reiterate his drink order.

He snapped out of the initial shock of seeing you at that. “Right, sorry. I had asked for a caramel frappe about ten minutes ago?” Of course he still had the same order from when you were teenagers, one that was much sweeter than yours. 

“Oh yes, it's ready. Sorry for the delay sir!” Her cheery voice rang out as she held out the drink.

You were still rooted to the spot in front of him.

He pressed his lips together, cocking his head to the side to silently motion towards the counter, signalling that you were currently in his way. “Uh.”

“Oh.” You stepped out of the line, feeling embarrassment quickly creep up upon you for your slowness right then. He grabbed his drink, and moved out of the way for the next person as well, stopping before you for a second, eyes lingering on your face as if trying to read your expression, gauging whether he should say something or not.

Terribly self conscious, you took another sip of the latte you held, though it did nothing to soothe your frayed nerves. He sighed softly, seemingly deciding that doing nothing was for the best, and walked away.

What were the odds of you running into him like this? You had banked on only having to see him when Yeonmi had him over, but now you realised that was incredibly naive of you, since run ins were bound to happen from time to time. It seemed that your naivety from your youth hadn’t quite run out yet.

Often, you thought about how you had been so quick to shut down his pleas to talk about things with you that one movie night, how defensive you had been from the get go. He had done his best to be cautious while approaching the topic, as if he had seen the mental caution tape you had wrapped around your heart when it came to him, but you had been so afraid.

Afraid that whatever explanation he provided you with wouldn’t be sufficient to heal the would he had inflicted. Afraid that if you even began to let him in, you’d forgive him immediately and feel pathetic about dismissing the part of you that was so angry at being left behind without so much as a goodbye. 

But as you watched him walk away and to the door of the cafe, you couldn’t help but wonder why you didn’t let him speak. 

Wasn’t closure something everyone wanted and deserved? You more than anyone knew this and maybe that's what you would have gotten if you hadn’t been so stubborn that night.

Your legs moved on their own, carrying you towards his departing figure. “Wait!”

He stilled, turning around slowly to make sure it was him you were talking to, which was a surprise in itself to him. You bit down on your lower lip, scrambling to find the words you needed to communicate with him. 

“Do you have a few minutes?”

His gaze softened the way it used to when it came to you and he nodded. “I can make time.”

You glanced down at your watch, grateful for actually having one sitting on your wrist. In truth, you had only bought it after noting how almost everyone in your workplace wore one. It didn’t seem professional to constantly be checking your phone for the time, but you did it anyway, leaving the watch to be just another accessory you donned. 

Right now, its utility made itself known. 8:00 am. “I have to be in office in an hour,” you informed him. “So I can’t stay long but….we can talk?” You mentally winced at how you ended what you had hoped to be a confident statement as a question. 

“I’d like that.”

The two of you made your way to a small table in the back, sitting opposite each other. You were grateful for the window on your left, which served as a good distraction from the man in front of you. Cars whizzed by on the busy NYC streets, painting the scene in a blur of reds and yellows against the grey concrete background. 

He tapped his fingers against the table periodically, the rhythm finally giving you the courage you needed to begin.

“You were right,” you said finally, desperately searching for the words to appropriately approach the topic at hand. “We do need to talk. I should have listened.”

“It’s okay, I should have approached it differently considering,” he paused, mulling over what he was about to say, not wanting to be insensitive but also not wanting to underplay the severity of what you felt. “Well, everything.” 

“It’s fine.”

Clearly, this was going nowhere and was getting increasingly more uncomfortable with every passing minute. You should have just let him leave instead of heeding to your intrusive thoughts and going after him, you should have watched him walk away and bit down your tongue in regret later on in the privacy of your room. 

It was as if he had sensed your trepidation and decided to put you out of your misery. “How are you?”

Small talk. Right. You could do that. 

“Good, good,” you had no idea why you said it twice. “Mostly just busy with work and you know, adulting. You?” 

“Pretty much the same, work.” He smiled softly at you, and you wondered how he somehow still made that feel like a reward for you, how something as simple as that could have a deceitful warmth bubbling in the pit of your stomach. “I have to get to the studio in a bit.”

“Studio?”

“I’m a music producer,” he clarified, and the conversation was almost too reminiscent of his date with Yeonmi, except a little more meaningful this time. A certain sense of shyness washed over him at telling you what he did for work, because although he was extremely proud of his job, your opinion of it mattered to him more than anyone else's ever could. 

“That's amazing! Do you like, get to meet famous people?” Your reaction was genuine, just as you had always been with him. You had once been the only person he thought believed in him. He could see the fraction of joy that sparked in your expression, truly happy on hearing this news.

He chuckled and nodded, “Yeah, I do. There are a couple of them I regularly work with.” It wasn’t in his nature to brag, but the starstruck look that appeared in your eyes made it worth it for once. 

“Wow,” you mumbled, fiddling with the straw in your drink. “I just work in HR.” Your life felt awfully boring in comparison to him, but then again, that was a feeling you had made your peace with a long time ago. He had always been the more interesting, more magnetic person from the two of you- or perhaps from everyone in general. A stranger could take a look at him and know that he was made to walk a path different and more vibrant than most. 

An awkward silence settled after that, only succeeding in increasing your anxiety levels. Pleasantries were over, so where the hell were you supposed to go from there?

“I didn’t know Yeonmi was your roommate,” he said quietly, not looking at you. “I’m sorry for the position I’ve put you in, I promise you it wasn’t intentional.”

“I never thought it was,” you assured him. “I didn’t think it was you she was talking about either. This is just some sort of freak coincidence, I guess.” You hesitated for a moment, before deciding to not overthink anything having to do with the situation. There were so many questions left unanswered that you had no qualms with getting right to the point now that you could. “I don’t even care actually, I just want to know one thing.” 

The flippancy in your voice almost made him wince. “Anything.”

“Why did you do it?” 

And suddenly, Donghyuck felt as if he was back as his teenage self, staring at you through his younger self's perspective. He had been so unforgivingly impulsive at that age, and selfishly so, unable to put himself in anyone else's shoes. Of course, he had felt guilty for what he had done, to the point where he felt sick in the days that followed, but he had done it to protect himself from having to deal with your reaction to the news. News that had, back then, ruptured the little world of bliss he had cultivated with you by his side. 

How could he have explained anything back then anyway? He had always hidden that part of his life from you, the constant instability and fleeting nature that it possessed. Putting it together made it sound like a bad excuse, and you definitely did not deserve that.

 But he wasn’t an avoidant teenager anymore, and neither were you. What you deserved was the whole truth and nothing but that, and so he steeled himself, glancing at the clock on the wall behind you. 8:15 am. He didn’t really have much time, but he was going to do his best.

“I spent most of my childhood moving around from place to place. I think the longest I stayed in a town was two years at most, and for the longest time, I resented my mother for that.”

This was something you had waited for all your life, or at least, that was how you felt, and now you were finally going to get the explanation you had spent years trying to put together for a fickle sense of closure. Here you were, finally getting what you had spent birthday wishes and pennies down fountains for since you were sixteen, hoping and praying that it would happen for your sake. Here you were, getting it from your first love.

It was three in the morning and though the caffeine from your coffee had long since worn off, you found yourself lying in your bed wide awake. It had been a few hours of tossing and turning underneath your sheets, trying to find a position comfortable enough to succumb to sleep but evidently, seeing that you were now staring at your ceiling in frustration, had been wholly unsuccessful.

You were going to need an extra large cup of coffee to curb your inevitable grumpiness the next morning. A sigh left your lips as you threw your covers off, sitting up in your bed and taking in your room in the darkness, hoping you would feel the heaviness set in on your eyelids. When that didn’t happen, you swung your legs over the side and landed on the wooden floors, slipping your feet into your house slippers and opening your door as quietly as possible.

A glass of water should put everything right and curb your restlessness. Your optimism was admirable, if not downright stupid. The cause of your current state was fairly obvious.

So there you were, now holding an empty glass. You had finished your water, and didn’t feel any better, not wanting to go back to bed in the slightest. 

Donghyuck rippled through your mind, and you shut your eyes, trying to block him out. The sight of those sad eyes of his as he explained what really happened all those years ago had been imprinted in your mind, and it had left you with nothing but contempt.

You despised the childish reasoning that consumed the entire explanation, the way it felt like everything that had happened and what you felt had been so trivial and completely avoidable if he had just spoken to you. Eight years, that was how long you had waited just for it to feel as if he had just rubbed salt in your wounds, and you hated every second of it.

What you hated most though, was the way you completely understood why he did it.

The more you thought about what he told you, you couldn’t help but empathise with him. Sure, you wouldn’t have done what he did if you were in his position, but that was the thing, wasn’t it? You had never been in his position, and it was clear that his younger years had been scattered all over the place.

How could he have known any better when he too was learning how to navigate his emotions at that age? He was a child and you couldn’t hold anything against a child now that you were an adult.

I’m sorry.

Suddenly, why those had been the last thing he ever said to you made sense. He knew what he was doing and did it anyway. The burn that you felt every time you thought about it hadn’t subsided.

Your younger self was angry at how things had turned out, pissed at being left in the dark even if you understood why. You wanted so badly to hate him for what he had done to you, but no matter how hard you tried to push yourself to do so, you just couldn’t. Instead, another emotion lied in the place you tried so hard to fill with hate, and it scared you even more.

He had hurt you to such a colossal extent, and yet that little flame inside of you refused to be put out, or even have the mercy to dim itself for your sake. It flickered back to life the moment you set eyes on him again and you knew this to be true by the effect he still had on you.

You never stopped loving Donghyuck. You only started hurting, and let the pessimistic degree of that feeling drown out everything else.

“I should have handled it better,” his frustration with himself was clear by the way he exhaled agitatedly. “I know I was a dick to you, and I’ll never forgive myself for that. If I could go back and do it all again, I’d do it very differently, but I can’t.” He sounded pained, his sorrow cutting deep into your freshly reopened wounds and making you realise that he had hurt himself in the process of doing what he did. 

While you had been painstakingly stitching yourself back together after him, he had been doing the same, reaping what he had sown in your garden. He was as old as you had been, and emotions are often magnified in the melodrama of youth.

It didn’t feel like that magnification had dulled out though, the regret potent in his voice, matching your emotional state. 

“But if there's anything I can do now….I’ll do it in a heartbeat.”

You were drowning, sinking rapidly below the surface as the waves thrashed around you, unrelenting and ruthless. You gripped the cup in your hands, a warm pressure building behind your eyes, making you feel even more miserable than you already were. The realisation of your present feelings overwhelmed you, and you crumbled against the counter, letting yourself lean against the cupboards as you settled on the floor.

He’d do anything for you. He said it himself.

So then…would he…?

A choked sound escaped your throat- something that sounded like a cross between a bitter laugh and a sob. You were deplorable, truly, for even letting the thought cross your mind, but god.

Would he end things with Yeonmi for your sake?

The topic of your roommate hadn’t been brought up during your chat, the two of you skirting around the topic for all you were worth. It felt like taboo, and although it was probably something worth mentioning, you were glad you hadn’t needed to deal with it just yet. You held so much love for Yeonmi, but right then she seemed like more of an obstacle than anything else. 

But if she knew the truth and Donghyuck and you, wouldn’t she think the same? She had done nothing wrong, so you were the problem here. You were the obstacle you had never signed up to be.

The question sat heavy upon your tongue, and you so desperately wanted to ask it.

You couldn’t do that to your friend, you would never. She hadn’t been this happy with someone since her sorry excuse of an ex broke her spirit, and you couldn’t bear to be the one to take that away from her. You couldn’t, even if it meant that it broke you, because goddamnit you were still irrevocably in love with Lee Donghyuck.

And all you wanted to do was hate him. 

viii] then.

Donghyuck’s room was much planer than yours, with just a clock hanging on one of its walls. A keyboard in one corner of the room and a guitar leaning against the side of his closet, you supposed that he hadn’t had much time to put too much thought into decorating just yet.

“You can put up posters of all those bands you keep talking about,” you suggested, running your fingers through his hair. You were sitting on his bed, leaning against the headboard with him lying in between your legs, looking up at you fondly 

Your boyfriend frowned lightly, “Too much effort.”

You rolled your eyes, “You’re just lazy. I can help you, you know. We could go print the posters after school.” Your enthusiasm was endearing, but he didn’t really see a point. Nevertheless, he didn’t have the heart to shoot your ideas down and nodded noncommittally, enjoying the feeling of you absent-mindedly massaging his scalp.

“Whatever you say, pretty girl,” he said lazily. A silence settled, and although it wasn’t uncomfortable by any means, he began humming a melody. 

You had heard him sing several times now, usually while he accompanied himself on guitar and his voice was just like the rest of him- captivating. It was gentle but still strong, his tone conveying the message and feel of any song he picked perfectly. He had once confessed that he would love to work in the music industry one day, no matter what the role was, but then brushed off the wish, saying that it was a shot in the dark. 

To counter this, you told him that if anyone could make it, it would be him. By no means did your words shake off his doubts or uncertainty, but you could tell that the faith you had in him helped him feel better. 

“What song is that?” You tilted your head, looking down at him. He shrugged. 

“It isn’t one, just a tune that came to me,” it was such a simple thing, and it still somehow earned him an impressed look from you, making him laugh. “It’s not a big deal.”

“You’re the coolest person I know.”

“You’re the dorkiest.”

“Hey! Dork-? Is this the shit I get for being nice to you?” You pouted, the offence heavily lacing your voice making him laugh, and to soothe your ruffled feathers, he dropped a chaste kiss to your lips. 

“A cute dork.” 

His mother was out, leaving the house empty save for the two of you. The privacy was nice, much better than your house for sure, where your mother was always hovering for some reason, even though you hadn’t told your parents about your new relationship just yet. She was overprotective, and while you were definitely going to tell them, you didn’t particularly want to deal with any outbursts just yet, wanting to savour the beginning of it all and keep that joy just for yourself.

As far as you knew, Donghyuck didn’t have a father, but he had never gotten into the details. He made sure to tell you that it wasn’t because it was hard to talk about, but because there wasn’t much to say about the man anyway, since he had never known him or even met him. 

You narrowed your eyes at him, trying to fake annoyance to the best of your abilities, but you weren’t and never had been immune to the butterflies he managed to set free in your stomach with that kiss, a smile slowly forming on your face. Your hands moved to his face, cupping it gently as you leaned closer.

“Sweet talk won’t get you anywhere.”

“Yeah?” His eyes sparkled with mischief, “What will then?”

“A proper kiss maybe,” you mused, matching his playfulness. He immediately took you up on your proposal, smiling into the kiss. 

You were glad his mom wasn’t around.

Neither of you had ever kissed anyone before, but somehow he was still very good at it, a single touch of his igniting a pleasant buzz on the surface of your skin. Everything you knew about kissing came from books and movies, but you could only hope you had the same effect he had on you.

If you only knew. It had been a few weeks since the two of you had started dating, and he had memorised everything he could about you he possibly could- the shape of your mouth and the slope of your nose, the crinkles around your eyes when you laughed and the sound of it, he knew it all like the back of his hand. It wasn’t hard to be with you, it came to him like second nature, and part of him was convinced that everytime his mother had moved them from place to place, it was to bring him here to this moment. 

To be lying in your embrace, tangled in your arms and the gentle, loving kisses you pressed to his mouth and forehead- this was the definition of bliss, and everything about it was so utterly ignorant. 

“You taste like sour patch candies,” you muttered softly, looking at him through half-lidded eyes. You had quickly grown addicted to Donghyuck, deciding right then and there that you wouldn’t trade this for anything in the entire world. 

“Mhm, I was eating them before you came over.” 

You chuckled. “You, sir, have a problem.”

“Drama queen, you’re exaggerating a little too much. I only had a few.” 

“You had an entire packet, didn’t you? No wonder it's so noticeable.” The light wash of crimson that appeared on his cheeks at being caught gave him away.

“It can’t possibly be that noticeable.”

“It wouldn’t be if you didn’t consume copious amounts of that candy.”

He simply kissed you again in retaliation, a consequence you could definitely live with and had no complaints about whatsoever. “Shut up, you know you secretly like it.”

You never had the chance to argue with that one, once again silenced by his lips against yours. He was undoubtedly right about that accusation, for you liked it almost too much. You liked everything about him too much, and for the first time you understood the typical giddiness that was portrayed in every teen movie you watched growing up.

Every school day was something to look forward to now, making it possible to spend almost every day with him. You sat on desks next to each other, sometimes listening to music together and trying not to get caught talking to each other. The teachers had definitely picked up on the fact that there was something between the two of you, considering the amount of disproving looks you had gotten sent your way for laughing a little too loud at the jokes he would crack under his breath. 

Holidays were spent with you trying to finish all your homework as quickly as possible so you could hang out with him or Sakura and Chenle, making it so that every single day was bright and exciting from the moment you awoke. 

“You have no proof of that,” you pointed out, sitting up straighter to be able to kiss him better, savouring the way his arm immediately slid around your waistline. He smirked, his hand slipped just under your t-shirt but staying at your waist, fingers tracing abstract shapes upon the expanse of your skin.

“You’re still kissing me, aren’t you?”

The local playground was pretty deserted after eight on Sunday evenings, mothers having taken all their babies and toddlers back home for their nightly routine. Other highschool juniors or seniors didn’t really hang out there, opting to spend their time at the small skate park on the other end of town, which made it a perfect hangout spot for you and your friends.

Chenle slipped a cigarette pack out of the pocket of his designer hoodie, along with a bright red lighter. “Does anyone want one?”

Your reaction mirrored Sakura’s, who currently wore a frown. “Since when are you a smoker?”

“Johnny hyung taught me yesterday when he invited me to hang out with the seniors,” he filled you in, and you groaned, leaning into Donghyuck’s touch. He had an arm around your shoulders as the two of you occupied the bench swing, while Chenle and Sakura were sitting on the ends of the metal slides.

“Please don’t follow in his footsteps.” 

He lit one of the cigarettes, rolling his eyes. “Can you chill?”

“You do not have to smoke Chenle, you’re sixteen, not a wildly miserable forty year old  divorcee. You’re doing it just because you think it's cool and because Johnny does it.” Sakura shared your view of the senior, and as hospitable and lovely as he was, you didn’t particularly support his life choices.

“That is not true,” Chenle contested, and your other friend huffed. “Johnny is a great friend.”

You shook your head in disapproval. “He’s a bad influence.”

“He’s not! He’s really cool Y/n, I swear,” He waved his cigarette around, gesturing towards your boyfriend. “Right, Donghyuck?”

His admiration for the senior boy had only grown since the day of the party. To put it plainly, he thought the absolute world of the older boy, making an effort to spark a friendship. To say that he was overjoyed when Johnny started inviting him places was an understatement, if the excited call you got from him said anything. 

Donghyuck looked all too amused and nodded. “He is pretty cool.”

He got two scathing looks as a result, one from Sakura and an unimpressed stare from you, causing him to clear his throat, quickly following up. “But! That doesn’t mean you should follow his every move. You definitely shouldn’t smoke, smoking is bad.”

Now that he was back in your good graces, you kissed his cheek and looked at Chenle pointedly. “Please don’t end up like him.”

“I would love to end up like him.”

Jesus Christ. There was no saving him.

“With all the shit he pulls, he’s going to end up dead by twenty-five. Do you want to die?” He put the pack and lighter back in his pockets, brushing off Sakura’s grim statement. 

“One cigarette won’t kill me.” 

“Yes, but if you make smoking a habit and get addicted, it will eventually. Lung cancer is a thing, you know.” Your reminder was not taken kindly, and he groaned, taking a puff before dropping it to the ground and crushing it with his heel, knowing that he wouldn’t be able to smoke it in peace with you guys around anyway. 

“You are all so boring.” He whined, glaring at Donghyuck. “And you’re a hypocrite. Didn’t Johnny teach you how to smoke too?”

Having stayed a silent observer for most of this conversation, Donghyuck seemed to momentarily scramble for his words. “Only at the party, I haven’t smoked anything since then and I don’t intend to do it casually. It was a one time thing, and it was almost two months ago.”

“Remind me to only ever smoke at Yuta hyung’s place, because you guys are too annoying.”

Sakura perked up where she was sitting, blinking rapidly. “Nakamoto Yuta?”

He nodded, smiling almost evilly at her. “Yeah, I hang out with your crush more than you do. Maybe if you didn’t have such a stick up your ass, he’d invite you too.”

“Ugh, I hope you do die.” 

She had gained quite the infatuation with Yuta, having flirted with him at the party and hung out with him for quite a bit of the night. All her confidence to do so had come from the alcohol though, because she ran in the opposite direction of him at school, too nervous to go up to him and strike conversation so casually. 

You snuggled closer to Donghyuck, the evening air taking a turn for chilly. You loved having him around and was overjoyed at how well he fit into your little group, getting along with them as if they were his best friends as well. Being with him was effortless, just how it should be. 

“You should at least try talking to him,” you suggested, ���If you don’t try, how do you know he’s just going to reject you? Didn’t he spend almost the entire party with you?”

“Easy for you to say,” she scowled, but you knew she meant no ill will and was simply joking. “You got the guy from like, the moment you met him.” Her words had you bite back a bashful smile. 

“That's true,” Donghyuck quipped almost proudly, rubbing your shoulder and dropping a kiss to your temple. He noticed the way you had tucked your hands under your legs. “Are you cold? Do you want my jacket?”

“Don’t you need it?”

“I’ll be fine,” he reassured you, taking it off and draping it over your shoulders, and resuming his previous position of having his arm around them. Sakura and Chenle simultaneously pretended to gag.

“The two of you are disgustingly adorable.” She complained, and Chenle agreed.

“Yeah, you make me feel so single I want to smoke.” 

The sound of Sakura hitting his arm at that comment resounded through the empty park, making you laugh. You hadn’t realised how bland your life had been before this year because now it was like the colours were brighter and much more vibrant than before, so much more interesting. This was how highschool was supposed to be, you thought to yourself as you slid your arms into the sleeves of his jacket, simple and rosy tinted, without a single worry in the world. 

ix] now.

This was the tenth time Donghyuck was listening to the track.

He paused it and dragged it back to the start, playing the song once again. Something about it was off, but he couldn’t quite put his finger on it just yet, subjecting himself to analyse it over and over as a result. 

He shut his eyes, trying to absorb the song and search for what was not clicking for him, letting himself be consumed by the music. The melody washed over him, the powerful vocals and enticing beat soaking into his system. In his expert opinion, it was one step away from being a hit on the charts. He just had to figure out what step he had to take in order to achieve that.

Usually, he would stay and work on it until he managed to come to a solution, but for some reason all he wanted to do was go home today. He wasn’t focused on his work, as much as he loved music and what he did, for some reason today he just couldn’t bring himself to do it.

Maybe the thing that was off with the song was his demeanour at that moment. For all he knew, when he felt better and more motivated to work on it, it might sound ready to put out into the world without him having to change a single thing.

Donghyuck needed to clear his head. He pushed himself away from his desk and stretched his legs, walking to one of the windows of the studio and peering outside. 

He loved the studio, he practically lived there half of the time, sleeping on the sofa when he stayed too late or was too tired to drive home amidst a project. Every instrument inside was precious to him, every piece of equipment important. It was filled with happy memories for him, with artists waltzing in and out of his space and entrusting him with their life’s work. Their vision collided with his artistic view, and even though his name wasn’t bedazzled in the lights and he wasn’t directly in the limelight, he had somewhat managed to make a name for himself in the industry he had always loved.

The studio was more his home than his apartment, so then why did he so want to go back to the latter at the moment?

Looking out into the streets of New York, it hit him.

It wasn’t his apartment he was yearning for, per se, but more so the idea of home. It was something he had struggled with coming to terms with for the longest time, having never stayed anywhere long enough to consider home throughout his formative years. As a default, home had never taken the form of a place or a house on a particularly named street, but instead had always been a person. 

During his childhood, it had been his mother, for she was the only truly constant thing in his life back then. As his teenage years rolled around, even she started to feel alien to him. He began perceiving her as less of a home and more of the reason he didn’t have one. 

And then there was another person who became his home, and she came in the form of you. You were his age and much more relatable, it was much easier to place all his hope and trust in you, especially when just being around you made him forget about all his problems. When he was with you, his life seemed to lose that intense sense of instability that always kept him on edge. 

You somehow stabilised him, but he lost that stability in less than a year. In an attempt to reconcile with his guilt, he began punishing himself by changing his number and cutting you off completely, telling himself that it would help you as well. Once again, he was without a home, and his relationship with his mother was further strained. 

At eighteen, he moved out to New York. 

New York was his home now, the place he had stayed for the longest time. It was a place finally, somewhere he could point out with his finger and proudly say he lived in. He finished up his education, going to college and teaching himself music production on the side. He worked two part time jobs and enrolled himself in production classes. 

It was hard being all alone in a city as big as New York, in an unfamiliar and cold place. The loneliness hit him hard, and that led him to calling his mother. After a year in the city, working and studying hard, he finally understood why she had done what she did while he was growing up and appreciated her for it.

He had his big break at twenty-two while working under a small record label. The song he had worked on as a producer went number one on the billboard charts, rocketing the singer from an unknown person to a household name and right under theirs, was his.

He was being praised by critics for his experimental style and the little things in the production that made the song what it was. Suddenly, he was in demand and made real, good money- amounts that he had never seen in his life. He sent half of it to his mother and could now visit her as many times in the year as he so pleased. 

Every sacrifice was worth it. It had gotten to where he was standing and made him who he was. 

But you being in his home now?

That made him question it. You displaced him.

New York had only started to properly feel like home when he had made it big, the big scary city not seeming so scary anymore. He finally felt like he belonged somewhere after years of lacking that. 

The only time he had ever belonged to someone was when he had been with you. 

When he left your town, he had left a piece of his heart behind with you, just as he had taken a piece of yours with him. He had never gotten it back, searching for it- something, someone perhaps- in the faces of strangers. 

He had put all his faith in finding that in Yeonmi, a woman who reminded him of you, only to find out that she was simply influenced. He was stuck, frozen in place by a choice that seemed impossible to make. Whatever course of action he took, any option he picked, it always seemed to make him the bad guy. He couldn’t just drop her for you because things were too complicated for that, and it would in turn make you the bad guy as well, but he couldn’t keep on feeling this way while being with someone else.

Home. Donghyuck knew right then that he wasn’t yearning for his apartment, or the city itself. He was yearning for you.

Donghyuck wanted you there in his studio, in his apartment- just with him maybe would be enough. Not just wandering and brushing shoulders in the vast city that you called home as well, but by his side constantly, to once again be the home that grounded him.

The realisation washed over him, but it didn’t come as a total surprise. Part of him had always known that you were it for him, especially when he saw you for the first time again that night he dropped a drunk Yeonmi home to you. The reason he couldn’t focus was you, how badly he wanted to run back to you and ignore all the complications that came with it, right back into the arms that were his true home. 

Occasionally, you would think about Sakura and Chenle. 

You had long since lost contact with your highschool best friends, inevitably drifting apart from them with the course of time. Once university began, even managing to text each other turned into a chore, and the only times you saw each other or hung out was during the summer when you went back home. Once you moved to New York and started going home less, those few moments turned into nothing at all.

Nevertheless, you hadn’t forgotten about them. They had been your constants for so long, people you trusted with all your heart and soul, always running out of your house to meet them. You fondly recalled all the late night calls and sneaking out and sleepovers, complaining about examinations and school together, and spending your summers with iced teas and hanging out at the local diner. From drinking sprite to sneaking alcohol, a lot of your firsts have happened with them. 

They held you together when Donghyuck left. They picked up the shattered pieces, sticking them back together the best they could with the resources they had. They were the ones that got you to smile again and eventually forget about him long enough to forget that you were trying to. 

Even though you haven’t spoken to them in years, you still thought about them. You would never stop being grateful. 

You also wondered how they would react if they knew what your life had come to. 

The coffee you had ordered this time was hot, and you cupped the mug, letting the warmth of the drink seep through the ceramic and to your fingers. You were in what had become your regular booth in the cafe, and across from you sat none other than Donghyuck himself. 

Ever since that day, an unspoken sort of agreement to at least be friends had passed between the two of you- a truce of sorts. It was only logical, considering he was technically with Yeonmi, and it meant that you would have to learn how to put everything aside for that. Oddly enough though, you never talked about your roommate, and he didn’t make an effort to bring her up either. 

Sakura would have glared at you in disbelief. Chenle would be laughing his ass off in some corner.

Meeting at the cafe had turned into a ritual of sorts. You would meet him there every Tuesday before work and both of you would chat and have your drinks before parting ways. Admittedly, you had started looking forward to these little rendezvous with him, they somehow managed to make your entire week. 

Really, you shouldn’t have been surprised at this. Donghyuck had always had that effect on you and clearly nothing had changed. He still made you laugh more than anyone else and left you with that warm, fuzzy feeling that made you think that anything was possible. 

Yeonmi did not know about these meetings. 

You had never mentioned them to her even once, and you were willing to bet that Donghyuck hadn’t either. He seemed to avoid talking about her entirely, and it seemed that he hadn’t been talking to her very much either, since your roommate had worriedly mentioned his lack of communication this past few weeks.

“He still talks to me,” she explained, eyes knit together in worry. “But not as much, you know? I can’t help but wonder if something is wrong.”

“I’m sure everything is fine.” You assured her when you were not, in fact, sure. You didn’t have the courage to ask about it anyway, and selfishly enough you didn’t particularly want to spend any of the little time you got with him talking about her.

You abhorred the way you had subconsciously turned against your friend, but it was fine because you had it under control. You could never do anything to hurt her, this was completely innocent. The two of you were just talking.

“You’ve met Lee Jieun?!” You exclaimed, eyes wide in awe. He held back a laugh at the starstruck look on your face, nodding as he stirred the sugar into his coffee. 

“Yeah, she’s very sweet and extremely talented. Worked on a few tracks on her last album.”

“I bought that album,” you said, putting your mug down and clasping your hands together. “I’ve been saving up for tickets to her concert.”

His lips twitched in amusement. “I can get you some if you’d like.”

Mouth falling open, you stared at him in shock, no words leaving your lips for ten seconds straight. “If I’d like?? I would love that, my god. I’ve been a fan for four years now and she’s always my top artist on spotify every year during spotify wrapped. My most listened to song is also always hers and she’s just so-”

You faltered when you glanced at him and noticed the doting expression he wore while looking at you- the sides of his lips were just slightly upturned, eyes following your movements keenly and hanging onto every word. It had heat rise up to your face and made you self-conscious because goddamnit, that was the exact way he would look at you when you were together. 

Fuck.

Your throat felt dry, and you swallowed hard, averting your eyes as you felt your cheeks burn. “I’m rambling,” you mumbled, fiddling with the teaspoon on the little place your cup sat in. “Sorry, I talk too much. I’ll shut up.”

“Don’t,” he immediately said, “I like hearing you talk.”

You blinked.

God. He really hadn’t changed at all, had he?

“R-right, uh, I just really, really love her music.” Everything about the moment threw you off. The way he was able to so skillfully grab you and plunge you back into the past you had tried so hard to run away from was jarring. It wasn’t even something that slowly crept up on you, instead clutching you by the collar and throwing you straight into it, right back into your sixteen-year-old self’s shoes. 

“I can tell. I’ll do my best with those tickets.” His promise almost flew over your head entirely and you forced a smile, staring down at your coffee awkwardly.  He still liked hearing you talk and your loquacious nature. Some things stayed the same no matter the course of time.

You let yourself wonder if he felt the same way about you as well, but just for a second. 

There was no way you could let yourself get away with thinking about it anymore because it would strip you of any dignity you had left. Your feelings for him had only grown dormant over the years and were now being awoken from their hibernation with every minute more you spent in his invigorating presence. It was unrealistic and childish to think that he felt the same way anymore.

The lack of any mention of Yeonmi, the way he seemed to be talking to you more lately and going so far as to meet with you on a weekly basis, well, the signs were definitely there, weren’t they? You were well aware of how much of an asshole move this was from both your ends towards your oblivious roommate, but as much as you tried to, you couldn’t bring yourself to care. It was terrible, but there was nothing happening. You were allowed to enjoy these fleeting moments that when boiled down to it, meant nothing at all.

But as he smiled at your excited demeanour, looking at you like you were everything he could ever want, you couldn’t help but wish that it did.

Yeonmi stood in front of the ice cream display, scanning all the different flavours at her disposal. You stood by her side, already digging into your own ice cream and waiting patiently for her to be done.

“You’ve already chosen what you want,” you pointed out. “Do you want a second cup or something?”

She shook her head. “Not for me, for Donghyuck. I’m going to meet him later on and since he likes sweet stuff I thought I’d get him a tub.” 

You paused your movements. Their meetings had grown sparse from what you had heard from her, with her having to plan most of them and him simply agreeing. It killed you a little on the inside, filling you with guilt at the suspicion that you had something to do with it.

The earnest lilt in her voice, her eagerness to please him- it reminded you so much of yourself. You disliked the way he was treating her, but you also found a sense of relief in it, and when you acknowledged that, you officially accepted that you were probably the worst friend in the universe.

“Have you chosen what you would like yet?” The teenager behind the counter asked impatiently. She looked like she would have rather been anywhere else in the world, but she was probably a highschooler who wanted some extra cash and this was the best she had gotten.

“No, sorry,” your roommate said dejectedly. “I’m not sure what he’d like.” 

Deciding to put her out of her misery, you spoke up. “Can we get a tub of cookies and cream?” The girl nodded, boredly taking one of the tubs out of the freezer and sliding it across the counter, calling out its price. Yeonmi flashed you a confused look and fumbled with her purse for a few seconds, taking out a few dollar bills and handing it over. 

The two of you walked out of the ice cream store, and she doubtfully looked at the tub. “What if he doesn’t like this?”

“He likes cookies and cream ice cream.”

“How would you know?”

You stopped walking and glanced at her, quickly realising you had slipped up. You tried not to take offence at the defensive nature of her tone, knowing that she had every right to be that way. She was technically his girlfriend, she should have been the one to know what flavour he would want. 

So you bit down hard on your tongue when the urge to tell her that you knew him better than she ever could sprung to its tip. You were bitter at having to let that go, your ego bruising from the fact that you weren’t entitled to the position of being the one who knew him so well, even though you had everything for it.

“He told me.” You said weakly, dropping your now empty cup into one of the bins on the sidewalk.

“When?”

Eight years ago. That was the truth, but you knew very well that you couldn’t possibly tell her that after pretending you had never met him before. The edge that her voice possessed right then put you off, but you brushed it to the side, knowing deep down that she had the right. “That one movie night we had.”

She frowned. “I don’t remember talking about ice cream at all.” 

“You fell asleep, remember? We spoke about it after that, just before he left.” The lie tasted sour, but not the pleasant kind of sour that is followed by a sweetness like a sour patch candy. This type of sour was persisting, the type that tainted your mouth from just its feel, spreading to your lips and the back of your neck.

“Oh.” She sounded hollow, letting the arm that held the bag containing the tub of ice cream fall limply to her side. “Okay.”

“You can tell him you picked it out.” 

You knew he wouldn't believe it anyway. “Okay,” She repeated, but you could tell how miserably she truly was. Resentment filled you, but just as quickly so did pity, replacing the former in the blink of an eye.

She had finally moved on from her sorry excuse of an ex and found happiness in another man, only for him to suddenly pull away right when she was ready to give it her all. You understood that more than anyone ever could, but in a completely different sense. To her, Donghyuck was emotionally absent now. For you, he had been wholly absent, snatched away and out of your reach for so long.

Yeonmi still had the chance to hold him, if he let her. You never had that.

And then your pity for her was replaced by anger.

Donghyuck had no right to run her around in circles like he was doing. You wanted to yell at him, tell him to make a decision on whether he wanted her or not.

You didn’t want to know the answer though, because the chances of it breaking your heart were high, and you didn’t think you’d be able to handle another heartbreak at his hands. It could also remove him from your life once again, and you’d continue to be haunted, just by new memories this time around. 

And just like that, you understood why he couldn’t make a decision so easily, because you couldn’t either. You wanted nothing more than for him to choose you, but it was the very last thing you would ask for, reluctant and afraid to hurt someone else in the process of healing your very own innate brokennes.

So you walked with Yeonmi back to your shared apartment and talked about insignificant things to take her mind off it all, trying to do the same for yourself. 

x] then.

When a storm is coming, you can almost always tell.

It may not look like it, but intuition works in mysterious ways. That sinking feeling that stirs deep within your gut, discomfort flooding your system slowly and warning you of something bad to come. You try your best to ignore it, to pretend as if you’re overthinking and going crazy and that everything is fine. You revel in ignorant bliss and sunny days, growing all too comfortable with the stability of the everyday life you have grown accustomed to. You let yourself believe that the calm before a storm is permanent.

Donghyuck knew something was wrong the moment he walked into his house that fateful November evening, four whole months since he had first stepped foot inside it when they first moved in. He had learned the pattern of the switches, he knew the layout of the house by heart. 

His mother sat on the dining table, her face buried in her hands. Usually, he would walk upstairs to his room and not bother, but this time something made him stop.

“Mom?”

She looked up at him, and he noticed just how exhausted she looked. His mother was a beautiful woman, but time had worn her down just like it did to everyone, and all the stress she was under had caused some of her black hair to turn grey. Wrinkles showed on her palms, her laugh lines had grown deeper. 

“Donghyuck,” she said his name with a heavy sigh. “Come. Sit.”

On most days he had an excuse to avoid this, saying that he had homework or a project to work on, but today he complied, taking a seat next to his mother. 

“How was school today?”

“Good,” he answered. She gave him an encouraging smile that was clearly forced for his sake, and clasped her hands together.

“Good, good.”

“Is….is that it?” He asked gently, suddenly not wanting to be there. It was like his body was trying to get him out of the situation, knowing something was off before his brain did. Unfortunately, some things were unavoidable and inevitable, and just like that the clouds began to darken.

She shook her head, “No, there’s something I need to talk to you about” She reached out and grabbed his hand that was on the table, squeezing it hard. “It’s important, okay?”

He nodded slowly, now trapped within the conversation with no escape. His mother exhaled and shut her eyes, dropping her head in what seemed like defeat. “I’ve been offered a job.”

“A job?”

“Yes- with a much better salary. Of course, I’m beyond blessed with the amount I get now but we’d be more comfortable, it’s a better opportunity.” She rubbed the hand of his that she held soothingly, as if trying to soften the blow she was about to give. 

The waves gradually grew more turbulent, slow but definite. It was clear that she was trying to approach whatever she was trying to say with as much tact as possible, but was only succeeding in frustrating the boy with her vagueness. 

“Just spit it out, Mom. What's happening?”

“We’re moving, Hyuck.”

Donghyuck sat there, stunned into a silence at what his mother had just said. Finally, she was done beating around the bushes like he had wanted, but now he wished he had let her take her time. It almost didn’t even feel real to hear, the true weightage of her words not quite registering just yet.

“What?”

His voice was devoid of any emotion, falling flat and harshly against the gentle, apologetic facade that his mother upheld. “In a few months, I know that it’s hard to hear and I’m sorry I have to uproot your life once again but I promise it’ll all be worth it I just-” She shakily exhaled, as if trying to expel all the fatigue she had accumulated over the years of switching out jobs and moving around in an attempt to create a better life for her only son. “I promise I’ll try and make this bearable and it’ll be the last time.”

If she had the choice, she would never have chosen such a turbulent lifestyle. After all, who would ever want to thrust their child into such an unstable environment- it being unstable due to its ever changing nature? But being a single mother was difficult and she had to do whatever she had to in order to survive.

The ship that Donghyuck stood upon began to rock as the storm intensified. 

“It’s been less than a year,” He said icily. “Five months.”

“We’re not moving immediately. I have to finish up some work here and get everything together before we leave. Three months.” She rushed to assure him of this as if it fixed anything.

“So eight months. That’s still less than a year, Mom.”

“I know sweetheart, I’m so sorry.

Sympathy filled her expression and she squeezed his hand, trying to convey that she understood his frustration. That notion was perfectly ridiculous sounding to Donghyuck, how could she even begin to think that she understood how he would be feeling? If she did, then why was she once again ruining his life?

If she was really so sorry, she wouldn’t be doing this in the first place. He clenched his jaw, looking away from his mother and around the living room he had finally grown familiar with. Every other time this had happened he had always grinned and bore with it because there never seemed like a reason to fight back. He had grown complacent and used to the cycle, expecting it almost.

But this time he had prayed it wouldn’t be the same. This time, he had grown attached to the dusty streets of the town and the long school days. He had a favourite store, more friends than he had ever had in his life and more importantly, a favourite person. This time, it wouldn’t just be him leaving behind a bunch of acquaintances, it would mean him having to leave you behind as well. 

He couldn’t bear the thought of that, his fury welling up and coming to the surface. For once in his life he had someone he wanted to stay for.

“If you’re so sorry,” he said, voice low and enraged all the same, “You won’t do this again.”

Her eyes softened, “I have to. I won’t ask you to understand, but-” 

“I hate you.”

The moment he said it, he could see his mothers countenance crumble, but the sympathy in it only increased. No parent ever wanted to hear their child say those words to them and he knew that in his heart, he didn’t truly mean them, but he was just so indescribably angry with her and the world for constantly doing this to him. 

It was cruel for him to say it without any hesitation, that much was certain the moment he saw tears well up in her eyes. She was a strong woman, refusing to let them escape and fall down her weary face for his sake, and he couldn’t take the sight of it any longer. Aggressively, he pushed his chair back and stormed off, bounding up the stairs of the house that would no longer be his with his heart hammering in his chest.

It was only in the comfort of his room that he let himself let out the sob that had been choking him up as he crumpled near the foot of his bed, a heavy sense of loss already passing through him. His eyes drifted to one of the walls of his room.

He had never put much thought into decorating, but there on it were three posters you had managed to convince him to put up with you, insisting that they livened the place up a little. He would have to tear them down now, just like everything else in his erratic, volatile life. Every other time was easier because there had been no bonds to sever in the process. He had let himself foolishly trust that his continued resilience was all for the happiness he had ultimately found now.

Perhaps this was why he had been so reluctant to let you help him decorate his room. Subconsciously, he had known that it would all be for naught when the nature of his life caught back up to him. Somehow he had already known that this was never meant to be anything more than temporary.

The waves capsized his ship and down Donghyuck went, sinking beneath the surface of the storm and below the storming sea, drowning in his sorrow.

You sat in the driver's seat of your father’s car, legs propped up on the seat with your cardboard container of fries balancing on your knees. Donghyuck occupied the passenger's seat, biting into his burger.

The both of you were parked in the local diners parking lot in the late evening after school. Donghyuck had said something about not feeling like going straight home, and since you had driven to school that day, you suggested taking a detour and hanging out for a little. 

“I was thinking,” you started, picking out a fry and biting into it, glancing sideways at the boy who owned all of your teenage affections. 

“Hmm?”

“I wanna tell my parents,” you declared finally, finishing the fry. He blinked, lowering his burger and looking at you pointedly. “About us.”

“All of a sudden? Why?” His mystification was justified since ever since the two of you had begun dating, you had been adamant on trying to hide it from them. It hadn’t been the intent initially, you simply were procrastinating their reaction- not that it would be a bad one- and as time went on, it got easier to put off. That being said, it also got harder to hide.

You shrugged, shifting in the car seat and reaching out to adjust the volume of the radio. “I just think it’s time, you know? I’ve been putting it off long enough and I want them to know about you. The smile that crept up on your face when you said that was enough to have a pit form at the bottom of his stomach.

Guilt is an ugly emotion. It manifests slowly, digging into your insides as it grows in its magnitude until it's up to your throat, depriving you of air and choking you. 

Needless to say, you weren’t the only one putting off telling someone the truth.

Avoidance wasn’t something that was inherently built into his nature, but it came into play almost naturally now. He had managed to evade being around his mother as much as possible over the past week or so, ever since she had dropped the news that completely displaced his entire world. Similarly, he had been avoiding bringing up what was happening to you, telling himself that he still had some time

But the truth was, saying out loud and admitting it all to you was just too much for him. It made it feel real and not like some terrible nightmare he had been living for the past few days. He didn’t want the reality of it all to hit him just yet.

“Do you have to?”

“Kind of?” You raised an eyebrow at him in question. “We’ve been dating for almost three months now Hyuck, do you expect me to just keep it from them forever?”

He winced internally, beating himself up about how you were talking about your relationship with him. It felt wrong to let you naively talk about a supposed forever when he knew that simply wasn’t going to be the case.

Your forever was going to be quickly cut short. 

“Of course not,” he mumbled, sighing softly. “I don’t know. Sorry, I wasn’t thinking.”

You frowned slightly, turning the volume down and putting your fries on the dashboard, giving him all your attention. “Hey, is something wrong?”

Everything was wrong. He wanted to laugh, mostly because the only other option he had was to cry and he couldn’t do that without having to expose it all. Instead though, he shook his head as nonchalantly as he possibly could, refusing to meet your eyes and instead staring at his burger. “Nope.”

You scoffed. “Oh yeah, that was definitely believable. Come on, tell me what's wrong.”

“Nothing’s wrong.”

“You said you didn’t feel like going home today. Is it something to do with that?”

You were too smart for your own good. He rolled his eyes, attempting to remain lighthearted, “What if that just meant I wanted to spend more time with you?”

“Weird fucking way of putting it, then. You could have just said you wanted to hang out.”

He put his burger on the dashboard as well and turned to you, holding your gaze firmly in the hopes that it would thwart your suspicions by appearing to be sincere. “Y/n,” he said your name steadily, a slight smile playing upon his lips that from the outside looked effortless, when in reality it was the most forced he had ever been. “Nothing is wrong. Drop it.”

You bit the inside of your cheek, realising that whatever it was, he clearly wasn’t in the mood to talk about it. You could respect that.  “Alright, I’ll back off.” You raised your hands to the sides of your face to mimic surrendering and earning an amused look from his end in the process. 

It scared him a little bit, how you seemed to be able to look right through him without even knowing the full extent of what he was going through. He had known you for so little time- too little almost- and yet you knew him better than anyone else. 

Leaving you behind was going to be the thing that hurt the most.

He leaned over and kissed you gently. “Thank you. And you’re right, you should tell your parents.” Your trusting countenance clawed at him, only worsening the sickening feeling of culpability that swirled in his gut. Maybe he’d tell you tomorrow, or the week after. Maybe he’d wait for another month so that he could gather his wits first.

If you doubted his confident facade, you didn’t let it show.

“Hey Donghyuck?”

“Hm?”

“I think I love you.”

Five little words should be entirely inconsequential, but even as young as he was, Donghyuck knew their true weightage. He knew you meant it by the credulousness in your gaze and the gentle squeeze of your hand on his. 

The two of you were sitting on the roof outside your room's window, you clad in sweats and his jacket- the very same one he had given you weeks ago at the playground. You had never given it back to him. He was in casual clothing as well, having sneaked onto your room during the early hours of the morning to hang out with you.

Time with you seemed to be fleeting now, and so he clung onto every minute he got. You had your head resting on his shoulder as the sun began peeking over the town and spilling its golden rays all over the little houses and buildings, lighting them up and bringing vibrancy to the town. 

Love was a complex emotion, a haphazard mishmash of several others in proportions that were unique to every occurrence it manifested itself in. Trust, admiration, infatuation and many more- they made up the feeling that everyone on the planet supposedly sought after so desperately. If it was truly so unpredictable, how did anyone know what it felt to be in love?

He sucked in a breath as seconds passed. Then, he squeezed your hand back.

“I love you too.”

xi] now.

Yeonmi was a great friend, ever ready to show her endless support for you in all your endeavours. 

“Smile! And for god's sake, get a drink and lighten up. It’s all your friends here.” She slid her index finger under the strap of your dress, lifting up to its correct position on your shoulder. 

You sighed and complied, flashing a smile for her sake, promising to make your way to the kitchen and do as she asked. She inspected your eye makeup one last time, pleased with how her handiwork had turned out and left your room, reminding you to hurry up and get out there. 

You had gotten a promotion at work a week ago, and when you had revealed the news to her she insisted that you celebrate properly for the occasion, taking it upon herself to organise a small party at your apartment. She invited some of your friends from work and a few mutual friends of yours- not too many people in all, but since your apartment wasn’t the biggest, it was already starting to feel a little cramped.

Pulling yourself together, you left the confines of your room, finding yourself humming along to the music that she was playing. The dress you had donned was definitely not as short as the ones you had insisted on wearing during your highschool years, having opted to go for a more respectful length now that you were older, but it made you feel pretty and put-together.

Among the familiar smiles and toned down congratulations that you received, you found your eyes wandering until they met another pair that was already trained on you.

Donghyuck was there, of course he was. Yeonmi had already told you that she had asked him to attend and you had been expecting his presence.

So why then did you feel your heartbeat pick up a little, as if it had come as a surprise?

You looked away

A slow hour passed.

In your teenage years, parties had been something you had always enjoyed partaking in, but right then you felt a tad uncomfortable. You quickly deduced that this was because all those times, you had just been another partygoer, lost among the rest of the drunken crowd. Here, you were the subject of the party, the centre of attention. 

People came up to congratulate you and make small talk. It struck you then, just how different your life was now from what it was back then. You were older in a different city, surrounded by people who had nothing to do with what felt like your previous life. Your old best friends, people you had thought would stick by you to the very end were not there, you were far away from your parents and were no longer a child that depended on them for everything. You had an apartment you called your own that you shared with your roommate. 

The only thing- person- that had somehow belonged to both your youth and adulthood was Donghyuck.

Flushed with the alcohol that you had consumed, you excused yourself from the umpteenth conversation you'd been dragged into with some of your colleagues and made your way to the kitchen, wine glass in hand. Shutting the doors behind you, you revelled in the momentary silence. 

You noticed the bottle of wine sitting on the counter and looked at your empty glass. Being the focal point of everyone's attention had never been something you particularly enjoyed and so to ease the bubbling anxiety inside of you, you walked over and poured yourself another, swirling it around and taking a good, long sip. 

The sweet wine trickled down your throat, kissing it soothingly with its tart berry flavours. You were no doubt tipsy at this point, having subconsciously fallen back upon the alcohol to support you through all the socialising. You truly wished Yeonmi hadn’t been so insistent on this stupid thing, you would have been more than happy to celebrate by going out to dinner, just the two of you.

“Oh! You’re here too.”

You spun around, clutching the stem of your wine glass a little tighter and automatically leaning your back against the counter when you felt your balance slip away from you a little. Donghyuck shut the door, hesitating.

“Am…Am I intruding?”

He totally was intruding on your solitude, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care when it came to him, thus shaking your head ‘no’. “Not at all, I just needed a moment.”

“I can leave if you’d like.”

“Don’t.” And you meant it. You didn’t want him to leave and he was the only one you would willingly tolerate at that moment. He flicked the lock of the door, sealing it shut to the rest of your guests and walked over to you with his own glass. You handed him the bottle of wine.

He nodded in silent thanks. “Congratulations on your promotion, by the way.”

“Thanks,” you took a small sip of your wine, looking at him and allowing yourself to study his matured features. There was not a thing about him that didn’t explicitly shine, a being so enigmatic and beautiful that it had you in awe of him even eight years later. “Not that it’s anything exciting like your job. I just sit in a nicer office now.”

He chuckled softly. “It’s still pretty cool, you’re still pretty young for your own office, aren’t you?”

You nodded bashfully. Even though you tried to remain as modest as possible when it came to the good news, you were quite proud of yourself. “Yeah, I didn’t think I’d get so far so quickly out of college.”

Donghyuck shuffled a little closer until he was right next to you. The urge to lean into him sprung up out of nowhere, the little voice in your head telling you to do so abruptly growing stronger. You drank the rest of your wine in an attempt to drown it out, only succeeding in doing the complete opposite.

God, he smelled amazing. You could get hints of the cologne he had on, a musky scent that had hints of something citrusy in the mix- thoroughly dizzying to you. You despised how much control he had over you without even knowing it.

“I had to repeat my senior year of highschool.”

His words snapped you out of your self-induced reverie, and you cocked your head to the side in question, prompting him to continue. As of late, your little coffee dates (your mind had defaulted to calling them that, even though you knew you shouldn’t), he had begun sharing bits and pieces of his life, and you had started doing the same. However, this was quite out of the blue, piquing your curiosity.

“After we moved,” he clarified, uncertainty creeping into his voice as if he was afraid of how you would react. “I almost flunked the eleventh grade finals in my new school and barely made it to the twelfth, and then that began, I barely attended, bunking almost all my classes to hang out with this group I had somehow managed to fall into.”

He sounded regretful as he spoke and you didn’t dare interrupt. You had often speculated what he was doing after he left, while you mourned the loss of your love, you had spent countless sleepless nights tossing and turning, wondering if he was thinking about you as well.

“They were terrible influences, but at the time I couldn’t bring myself to care. I was never in class, always at one of their garages with some sort of alcohol. A lot of that year was a blur, with me being drunk almost every day. I’d leave the house in the morning and say I was going to school and take a detour. My grades fell but I never paid attention to it because of how unhappy I was.”

Your eyes stung with emotion for him, because although you had resented him so much, he was still only a kid back then. Pairing this new information with what he had told you about his flighty childhood, you couldn’t even imagine the sheer level of frustration he must have experienced with having to adapt to yet another place.

“By the end of the year, my attendance was so terrible that they couldn’t let me write the finals, nor could they let me graduate, leaving me with the option to drop out. My mother was in tears and we fought a lot when I told her about it. At first I was fine with just dropping out and giving up, but she said something that made me rethink that.”

“What did she say?” You whispered, your heart feeling as if it was in your throat. You hadn’t even realised you had moved in position, now even closer and directly in front of him.

He sighed heavily. “She told me she didn’t want me to end up like her. She wanted me to live without having to uproot every year or so, and the only way I could do that is if I didn’t give up. And that got me thinking about everything.”

His glass was empty now. “I realised I didn’t like my so-called friends, I hated what I had become and I didn’t want to continue living the way I had for so long. I thought long and hard about what my mother said and then…then I thought about you.”

Your breath caught in your throat as you held his gaze, searching his face for answers before he presented them to you. 

“Me?”

He reached out, his fingers oh-so-carefully brushing against the skin of your cheek, dragging back slowly and tucking a strand of hair that had fallen into your face behind your ear, lingering there. 

“Yes, you.” A wistful smile made a show on his face. “I thought about how my mother said she wanted me to graduate and push forward so I wouldn’t live the same life she created for us, and how if she had done the same thing she was begging of me, maybe-” His voice cracked, causing a jolt down your spine and your sight to blur slightly with the emergence of tears, but they didn’t fall just yet.

“-Maybe I wouldn’t have had to leave you.”

Fuck.

A single tear trickled down the apples of your cheeks, and the moment it did, his thumb wiped it away gently. 

“So I agreed to the second option, which was having to repeat my senior year. I attended every class that I could, I studied and worked hard for every test. I graduated late, but I managed to do it, and then I moved to New York just before I turned nineteen.”

“Donghyuck…” you trailed off, not knowing what to say.  It was clear to you now that he had to grow up a lot earlier than you had, even if it hadn’t seemed that way at first. You had a good family life and a stable, comfortable childhood. You were allowed to figure it out slowly, never being exposed to any sort of extreme turbulence that shook your world so deeply other than his leaving- and you had support through that as well in the form of your friends. Donghyuck had none of that, left all alone.

“All I wanted to say was that without you, I wouldn’t be where I am.”

“Don’t do that,” you said almost sorrowfully, “You did it yourself. I just happened to be a part of it for a little while.”

“You should have been a part of it for longer.”

He wiped the stray tears that escaped your eyes at that, knowing how much weight that statement alone held. You shut your eyes, sucking in a deep breath to try and pull yourself together, but to no avail. Quietly, you responded. “I know.”

“Don’t cry,” He whispered, tilting your face up by your chin, a fond expression gracing those gorgeous features of his, and your eyelids fluttering open to look at him, committing every single detail about them to your memory. “You look beautiful tonight, Y/n.”

The compliment stung, like needles digging into the surface of your skin roughly. You knew you were completely undeserving of it, that it should have been directed to your friend who was somewhere outside the privacy of the kitchen and yet there you were, basking in his attention like you always did in the few stolen moments you got with him. 

You were quite aware that you weren’t sober and you were willing to bet that he wasn’t either. Here the two of you were once again, eight long years later at a party, alone yet together. The irony of it all was not lost on you, and you somehow knew exactly what was going to happen in the next few seconds and still you made no motion to stop it. 

His lips found yours instinctively, kissing you hard. You let him, the familiarity of it all rushing back to you so quickly that it nearly knocked you off your feet. Your hands rested upon his arms as his mouth moved against yours, rendering you breathless and at his disposal. You were his, you had always been his just as he had always been yours, no matter how much time had passed or how much the two of you had changed.

If the wine had gotten you tipsy, his kiss had you downright intoxicated. You were drunk on the sensation, leaning into him to get as close as possible to take it all in. You memorised the way his thumb traced your jaw so tenderly as if you were made of glass and he was afraid to break you.

Life had somehow brought you right back to him full-circle, ending right when it had started the two of you off. Perhaps it was a cruel joke, to give you everything you had ever wanted in such a limited capacity and to simultaneously make it completely off-limits.

Eight years you had waited for this, and nothing had ever felt as liberating as it was wrong.

“We need to talk.”

It was the second time you were hearing these very words from Donghyuck’s mouth, and you were just as reluctant to comply as the first.

“No.”

He looked at you, frustration decorating the expression he had directed towards you. “We can’t keep avoiding it.”

Yeonmi had invited him over again for a movie night, but realised you had run out of coke and had volunteered to run down the store and get some more, blithely unaware of the clear tension between him and you. Then again, she had never noticed anything when it came to that, but it made your life much harder. 

“I think you’re just fine at that.” God, you couldn’t even begin to explain the magnitude of your anger. He was sitting there on the other end of your couch after a week of saying nothing to you- which was mostly your fault, considering you hadn’t shown up for your little coffee date that week and had stoutly ignored any calls or texts he sent your way- but that wasn’t the point.

The point in question? The fact that despite having kissed you, he evidently hadn’t broken things off with Yeonmi.

He frowned, “What do you mean?” 

Now, it wasn’t as if you wanted him to break up with her for you or anything, but rather because it was the right thing to do. Of course, this wasn’t to say that you didn’t secretly hope the former would be the reason for it, but deep down, you knew that you couldn't even indulge in that. The incident had been eating away at you ever since it happened–

– Well, what exactly had happened?

You recalled the way you broke out of his touch the moment he whispered your name against your lips and brought you back to reality. You remembered how the crash felt, the way you had been on top of the world for a few seconds before it all crumbled right at your feet, the long-growing anticipation dying out into unadulterated guilt.

You remembered thinking of Yeonmi, your sweet, supportive friend who hadn’t done a single thing to deserve what you had just done to her. 

When that happened, you wordlessly left the confines of the kitchen, avoiding him for the rest of the evening. Your cheeks felt hot and you felt light headed, but you had to keep up your image until everyone had gone home. He disappeared some time after that, the reason unknown to Yeonmi, who informed you of his sudden departure. 

“I mean, you’ve done a great job at completely avoiding talking about Yeonmi before, so you should have no problem avoiding talking about whatever happened between us.”

He clenched his jaw. “That's not fair and you know it.”

You did. You were too proud to admit it to his face though, refusing to let him pummel through your already shattered dignity. “Whatever.” You were still seated, staring up at him in defiance as your fingernails dug into the cushioning of the couch.

“Don’t do that, don’t shut me out again. Talk to me.”

“I shut you out because you left me, Donghyuck. I’m sorry for not letting you back in with open arms, if that's what you wanted from me.” You were terrified of this, manic at possibly having to face the music. You were so much better at running away from it all, away from him.

He sighed in retirement. “We kissed.”

Your throat felt dry. “Yeah.” 

“Y/n-”

“Don’t,” you warned, feeling emotion bubble to the surface and crack into your speech against your will. 

“I want to talk about it. I need you to talk about it with me.”

Stupid, perfect Donghyuck. You loathed the way that even after everything, after all this time, trouble and everything in between, he was somehow still everything you had ever wanted.

You kept your voice airy and as light as possible although your tongue felt heavier than it had ever been. “If you’d like, we can pretend like it never happened in the first place, just like we pretended we weren’t a thing.”

A thing. What a gross, unjustified oversimplification of what you had with him when you were younger, and cruel too, but you had no choice. You had spent every waking hour going over the possibilities, every outcome of the situation you had stumbled into and had come to a singular conclusion: you were going to get hurt.

Donghyuck stared at you in disbelief, getting to his feet and pacing around the room as if he was trying to create space between him and you to get away, but coming back moments later. “Don’t pin that on me. That was all you.”

A bitter laugh left you as you stood up, now face to face with him. The tension was arid, almost choking you, but his gaze had an even more adverse effect, cutting right through you like you were nothing at all and holding you accountable. He was so close to you, close enough to reach out and touch and kiss once again if you so wished.

But wishing for the unattainable was futile.

His eyes dropped to your lips. Futility be damned, you wanted another taste of what it felt like to be kissed by Lee Donghyuck already, having been stripped of that luxury without having any say in it all those years ago. Just like that, you were breathless and your thoughts scattered, the air between him and you turning electric.

God, you were so tempted to just give in and press your lips to his, but you knew you couldn’t, no matter how the way he was looking at you made you consider risking it all.

“Oh and what did you expect me to say? That it was wonderful she was dating my ex-boyfriend?”

And that's when you heard glass shatter.

You startled, taking a step away from Donghyuck immediately and your head snapping to the direction of the sound, only to find Yeonmi standing by the door. 

Two broken glass bottles of coke lay near her feet, their contents spilled and pooled around her shoes. The look on her face told you everything you needed to know- the disbelief in her eyes and agape mouth, those features laced with striking betrayal. In the heat of your argument with Donghyuck, you hadn’t heard the door open, neither had you heard your roommate enter, and you were certain that she had heard that last bit. 

Worse, she had seen the two of you like that. It didn’t matter how quickly you had retreated away from him. 

The scene was horrific in her eyes, and you could only imagine it from her perspective. The man she was dating and her roommate, someone she trusted and considered close, looked as if they were about to kiss each other right in front of her as if she didn’t exist in the first place.

“Yeonmi– I can explain–” You scrambled to try and piece together something that sounded plausible. 

“Explain what, exactly?” She asked quietly, staring at you like she had seen a ghost. You had never heard her speak with such hollowness and it scared you. “That you, the both of you, lied to me?” 

You had nothing to say to that because it was completely true. Everything about this was your fault and you could relate to the betrayal that she felt right then, you understood the hurt that she undoubtedly was experiencing right then.

“It makes sense now,” she said, tears springing to her eyes as she looked from you to him. “How you knew she knew so much about you, why you suddenly distanced yourself from me when I thought things were going well.” Donghyuck exhaled, looking at the ceiling and shutting his eyes. “You never really wanted me.”

“I’m sorry, Yeonmi.” 

You watched as tears made their way down your friend's face. You felt like a fraud for still referring to her as a friend when you had been anything but one to her. She opened her mouth to say something, but it seemed like her grief took over, only a choked sob leaving her. 

“I never want to see you again.”

And she turned around and walked out, storming into the hallway outside your apartment. You followed her out as quickly as possible in desperation, leaving Donghyuck behind. The yellow hallway felt intimidating all of a sudden, as if it was staring you down for the sins you had committed against your roommate. “Yeonmi, wait–”

She stopped outside the elevator and turned around to face you. “Why?” Her question felt like a sharpened rod prodding at your heart, or perhaps a knife driving through you and leaving you there to bleed out. “Why did you lie to me?”

“I didn’t know what to do,” Your helplessness finally escaped you in a rush, your own tears gathering in your eyes. “I didn’t want to, I swear I never wanted to hurt you.” 

This was all wrong. You had never wanted to hurt someone else, you had never wanted to spread the pain you had carried with you all these years to her and had done everything in your power to avoid doing so. You had done everything you thought was right and yet here you were, having made a mess of it all anyway. 

“I never…” You trailed off, your voice failing you as your tears trickled down, stinging your skin with their heat. “I never meant for it to be like this. I’m so sorry.” 

“He’s your ex.”

You nodded miserably, burying your face in your hands and pressing your palms over your eyes hard. You let your hands slide into your hair, tugging in frustration before you gathered the courage to finally look at her again.

“A long time ago. We were kids.” 

“And you’re still in love with him.”

You didn’t bother answering that one because you knew it wasn’t a question, looking at your feet until your vision got blurry from all the tears, some of them dribbling down your chin and onto the thick carpet beneath your slippers, staining it a darker colour than it was. Of course you were in love with Donghyuck, but it had come in between her own falling for him and she, despite having done nothing wrong, had to suffer the consequences.

“Fuck,” she muttered, leaning against the wall. “You should have told me. I would have stopped seeing him immediately if I knew.”

This wasn’t groundbreaking news, you had inherently known this from the start. “I know.” 

“If you knew, then for fucks sake, why didn’t you tell me?” Her anger was warranted in every sense and ever scenario having to do with this, the force and outrage in her tone making you visibly flinch.

“Because,” you hesitated, before deciding that hiding anything more from her wouldn’t do you any good. “Because you were happy.”

She softened slightly at that. “But you weren’t, Y/n.”

“I hadn’t seen you that happy since…” You didn’t need to finish or mention her ex, you knew she understood. “I couldn’t bring myself to take that from you.”

She took a few steps towards you, failing to portray any malice now. “You ruined it anyways, and I think this is much worse.” Pity exuded off of her while she spoke to you, but just as quickly as you felt it, it was gone, replaced by the sheer magnitude of deception she felt. “You let me experience a false sense of happiness and consequently ruined it, and I don’t think I can ever forgive you for that.” 

You certainly didn’t expect her to. You didn’t even dare ask her for forgiveness, knowing that you didn’t deserve it at all. 

“But I can’t blame you for loving him. And I can’t blame him for being in love with you either because I can see it. It finally makes sense now.” She sighed in defeat, wiping her tears with the back of her hand. “I hate you.”

“I know.” 

“And I can’t be happy for you either, so I’m going to leave. I’ll stay over at Chaewons.”

You shook your head. “No, I should be the one who goes, you should stay at the apartment.”

“Yes, but I’m the one who deserves to have a friend to talk to, so I’m going to go.” You could tell how hard she was trying to remain calm, removing herself from the situation before she did anything stupid. She walked away from you and towards the elevator, calling it to your floor. You nodded, letting a defeated sigh escape your lungs.

“Okay. Drive safe. I’m sorry.” 

“I will.” Yeonmi stepped into the elevator and faced you one last time, pressing her lips together. “I’m sorry too Y/n, because I never want to see you again either.”

xii] then.

You occupied one of the swings, humming an idle tune you had heard on the radio earlier that day while you looked through your phone. Currently, it was 7:15 p.m, fifteen minutes after Donghyuck had promised to meet you at the park. You didn’t think much of it though, since he was usually on time and would show up soon enough.

“Hey.”

Speak of the devil.

You looked up from your scrolling to see him standing there a little away from you and smiled. He seemed out of breath as if he had run all the way here and his hair was tousled from the wind that blew, biting into your exposed skin. You realised you had left his jacket at home. 

“Hey you,” you hardly ever recognised the tone your cadence took on when it was directed towards him, and you couldn’t pinpoint when it switched to such transparent affection either, but you weren’t one to question such things. Your love for him was as sure as the cycle of the earth around the sun, an inevitable happenstance of fate. 

“I can’t stay for long,” he informed you regretfully, walking over and occupying the swing beside yours. “I have to be home earlier today.”

“That’s okay,” you checked the time. 7:17. “How early?”

He winced, “Eight technically, but I’m sure I can stretch it till eight-thirty.”

You waved this suggestion off, shaking your head. “Nah it’s fine, I don’t want you to get in trouble. We can talk while we walk home.”

“Okay.” He followed you out of the park and onto the streets. Still being winter, the days were short and the sky was already dark, the streetlights provided the pair of you with illumination, second to the moon peeking out from behind the clouds as if it was afraid to call the sky its own before its usual time. 

You reached for his hand, intertwining your fingers with his as you fell in step with him, enjoying the warmth he provided. “We can just hang out tomorrow.” The next day was a Sunday, which meant you had the entire day to yourselves if you so pleased.

His smile faltered slightly as he nodded. “Yeah, tomorrow.” 

You completely missed the uncertainty coating the word and the anxiety he felt right then, pulling him along with you as you walked. Teenage foolishness was truly a fool's paradise, your blissful unawareness blessing you with a bounce in your step and a worry free mind. Donghyuck meanwhile was struggling to keep up, his guilt making it feel as if his feet were heavier than ever, the knowledge he possessed and had effectively kept from you being the cause of his misery. 

So you talked about your day, the difficult question on your test that day and about Sakura’s progress with Yuta (which had been minimal at best, but you were proud of her nonetheless because at least now she could wave ‘hello’ to the boy). He listened to you chatter endlessly, the sound of your excited rambling distracting him from his troubles. There was never a moment he was bored when around you and he truly did love to listen to you talk. 

He’d miss that more than anything. He’d miss you more than anything he had ever had the chance to miss.

“Oh we’re here,” you stopped outside your house and turned to him, walking right into his arms for a quick goodbye hug, planting a chaste kiss upon his lips before you pulled away. “Thanks for walking me home.”

He swallowed the lump in his throat and nodded, watching as you began walking to your door. He already missed the feeling of your skin against his, wishing he had held you for a little bit longer. Was he already forgetting the taste of your kiss, even though you were only a few feet away from him?

“Y/n?”

You stopped and looked back at him, your smile visible in your eyes. “Yeah?”

He was leaving tonight. That was why he had to be home early, because it would be the last time he ever set foot in that house. Tonight he would be gone, and you still didn’t know a damn thing. It was too late to explain. That was his own doing and now he’d simply have to live with the guilt plaguing him for what would probably be the rest of his life. Every time he thought about you, it would attack him once more and push him underwater, holding him there until he ran out of breath. 

So he would have to settle for something small and manageable to quell his culpability, at least by a little. 

“I’m sorry.”

He knew that it wasn’t nearly enough to make up for everything. Two meagre words couldn’t do much at all and it wasn’t capable of fixing anything either, but it was the best he could do. His heart felt heavy, and he could feel his eyes sting with tears at the sight of your confused face at this, finally letting the unhappiness he felt crack through. “I’m so sorry.”

Concern bled into your features. “For what? Hyuck, are you okay?”

Donghyuck shook his head and blinked rapidly to stop himself from crying in front of you, stuffing his hands into his pockets and taking a step back. “Yeah, I’m fine, I just– see you tomorrow.”

And with that, he walked away, leaving you to eye his figure as it sauntered down the street and disappeared around the corner. He was confusing sometimes, switching from being happy to something entirely else within seconds. 

You opened the door and walked into your house as night fell.

The next day, he was late again. 

Usually he would pick you up on holidays before you went anywhere, but today he was nowhere to be seen. It was noon now, and you glanced outside your window, anticipating his car to pull into your lane any moment now.

You momentarily entertained the idea of him possibly forgetting. It did seem like he had a lot on his mind as of late, so you wouldn’t blame him if he had. The only issue was that he wasn’t texting you back, nor was he answering your calls and so you decided to stop waiting around for him to show up, opting to go over to his house instead.

The sky was cloudy that day, a chill in the air that had you remembering to pull on a jacket before you set out this time, the gravel beneath your feet crunching loudly in the silence of the afternoon. Most of the town took their midday nap on a Sunday such as this one, making it seem a lot quieter than it was.

So when you walked up to his door and noticed all the lights in the house seemed to be off, you didn’t think much of it, preparing to apologise for disturbing if his mother happened to answer as you rang the bell. 

No response.

You frowned, waiting a minute or so before ringing the bell again twice in succession. When nothing happened, you slipped your phone out of your pocket and clicked on his contact, holding it up to your ears. It didn’t ring at all, immediately playing a recorded message instead.

‘This contact is temporarily out of service.’

Your intuition kicked in, telling you that something was inherently very wrong. Swallowing thickly, you tried ringing the bell one last time, louder than before.

“Y/n? What are you doing here sweetheart?”

You looked over to your right to see a lady in her fifties- a friend of your mothers- standing outside the neighbouring house, wrapped up in a robe. Embarrassment at causing a disturbance flared up inside of you as you rushed to explain yourself.

“I’m sorry Aunty, I just wanted to visit my friend Donghyuck.” You gestured toward the door to aid in your explanation, earning a perplexed look from her end.

“He’s not here anymore.”

There it was again, your intuition kicking you from the inside and clawing up, dread beginning to fill you. “I–I’m not sure I understand Aunty.” 

“They moved out sometime late last night, his mother had told me about it a month or so ago when she needed help fixing a hole in the wall to get her deposit back from their landlord. I had my husband help her– but that’s beside the point. They’re gone.”

The implication of the new information hadn’t quite registered yet, leaving you to stare at the lady, dumbfounded. “Gone,” you repeated under your breath. “Oh.”

“I thought you knew since you were such good friends with her son.” Friends. The word sounded bitter right then, because you had been so much more than that, but as you stood there and listened to your mothers friend talk, you wondered if you even qualified for that. Didn’t friends tell each other things? 

“Is everything okay, darling?” Why didn’t he tell you?

“It must have slipped my mind. I’m sorry for disturbing you Aunty.”

She waved it off, forgiving you easily and retreating back into her house. You stared at the door.

He couldn’t have been gone- it made no sense whatsoever. Just yesterday he had been by your side and had made plans to meet with you today. Why would he have done that if he was going to leave?

I’m sorry.

His cryptic words from the day before rushed back to you and you gasped to yourself when their magnitude finally hit you, causing you to stumble back and off of the landing of the house. He did know, he knew and had blatantly lied to your face without a second thought. Your mind went into overdrive as you tried to piece what had just happened together to form a coherent set of thoughts, failing miserably at doing so.

Two things were clear: Donghyuck was gone and you had no idea where or why. 

You tried calling him again, punching in his number into the dial pad almost furiously, willing him to pick up. When the same monotone message repeated itself, you cursed, accidentally dropping your phone onto the path you stood on in your frenzy.

“No, no, no, no” There was a certain manic quiver to your voice as you picked up the device, staring at his profile picture. It seemed to mock you now, the bright smile he sported in it that portrayed joy directly challenging the torrential downpour of agony that you were inflicted with, thus rendered utterly despaired.

Your boyfriend was gone, and he hadn’t bothered to tell you about it. 

The boy you loved, heck, the person you adored and meant the most to you in the entire world had left you without so much as a proper goodbye, leaving you behind to wonder why. You hadn’t the faintest idea where he could have been at that moment, just knowing that he wasn’t where he had promised he’d be and where you needed him most.

Hot tears spilled out of your eyes, catching onto your eyelashes and making it hard for you to see. You didn’t bother to stand back up, the asphalt beneath your knees digging into it harshly, no doubt going to leave a few minor cuts. The amount of questions you had were innumerable, each one crashing into the other until your head was full of incomprehensible nonsense that made it spin. 

It felt too normal for him to have been gone. The rest of the town functioned as normal and yet it felt as if your entire world had just been flipped upside down.

When Sakura and Chenle sat you down and asked you about what had happened when they found you sitting all alone in the park after skipping school a few days later, you left out the parts describing how you desperately tried ringing the bell a few more times afterwards. You didn’t tell them about how you had so hoped that it was an elaborate prank, nor did you go into detail about how many times you had called him, hoping and praying for him to pick up. 

The days melted into weeks without Donghyuck. 

You hated how it felt as if he was everywhere, having tainted all your favourite places and being the majority of your most beloved memories. You half expected him to walk out from around a corner and surprise you, taking you in his arms and kissing your forehead.

But hope is a foolish sentiment, especially hope fueled by naive teenage fallacies. The rose tinted glasses that had been worn by you for the months you had been with Donghyuck seemed to fade in their vitality, sucking out all the colour from your life until it felt as if you were left with a dull combination of greys and blue hues to paint the rest of your life with. You were missing the components that gave it warmth.

For you, Donghyuck was the sun, enigmatic, alluring and all too elusive. He was everything you could ever ask to have and yet just outside your reach, your fingertips barely brushing against it before it disappeared again. You quickly learned that you were the moon, waiting amidst the stars and hoping for those moments when both the sun and moon were painted across the same canvas of sky. 

That very sky had fractured into a kaleidoscope of colours when he left, leaving you to pick up the shards of your broken heart.

xiii] now.

You stood in the doorway of what used to be Yeonmi’s room, comparing it to how you remembered it looking before. The only thing left was the bedframe and an old cupboard, the rest of the room was bare.

She had moved out a couple days after the incident, leaving you alone in the apartment. You would have to look for another roommate or simply cover her part of the rent yourself considering you could afford to now with your promotion. Still, the silence was overwhelming, reminding you constantly of how easily you had ruined a friendship.

It seemed to be one of the core themes of your life- to experience debilitating loss over and over without having any time to prepare for the same.

The doorbell rang. 

Ungluing yourself from her former doorframe, you dragged yourself to the door and opened it, your eyes widening in question when it fell upon the person who stood there.

“Y/n."

Donghyuck stared back at you with those captivating eyes of his, pulling you into a trance of sorts instantaneously.  You forced yourself to snap out of it.

“What are you doing here?”

He combed his fingers through his hair, evidently agitated. “I didn’t know what else to do. You won’t answer my calls and I need to talk to you, even if you don’t want to.” 

You were so tired, the events that had transpired over the past few weeks crushing you beneath the weight of it all. Looking at him now, all you could do was weakly shake your head, a frantic sort of fear consuming you whole. 

“No,” you said, taking a step back. “I don’t not want to talk to you, I can’t.”

“Why?”

The question made you freeze in place, your feet rooted to the flooring of your apartment. Why? After everything that had transpired, it was for some reason much too hard for you to answer although the answer was at the forefront of your thoughts and on the tip of your tongue. Truthfully, you were afraid to sound it out, knowing that you wouldn’t be able to convey it correctly.

When he left you eight years ago, you didn’t have the opportunity to talk to him. He had taken away that possibility for you without ever considering if you’d want it, and gradually you grew used to silently harbouring ache that bloomed in your ribcage. 

It occurred to you then that the same was the reason he wanted to talk. Donghyuck had forced himself to cut you off in every way after he moved, following his own teenage justifications that told him it was for the best. Now, older and wiser, he knew not to repeat the misdeeds of his youth, but the very opposite notion had been instilled in you.

“Donghyuck,” you whispered his name, giving him a knowing look, one that was filled with so much sadness and despair that he could barely recognise you. Where was the ever-cheery girl he had fallen for?

Was he the cause for her disappearance?

If so, he promised himself he’d be the one to bring her back too. “Be with me.”

You gasped softly at his proposition, shaking your head furiously, “Are you insane?”

He simply nodded, taking a step closer towards you. “Yes. About you, I’ve always been insane about you.” Conviction hung onto every word, and perhaps if you were younger you would have swooned and run straight back into his arms. 

You missed your naivety, for life would have been so much easier with it. It was a boon, but now you were wary for the sake of your fragile heart. You could feel your teenage wistfulness rise to the surface as if it was trying to break out of the cage you had locked it in, doing its best to claw its way out and hand the rest of the pieces of your heart over to the man who had the missing bit you had been searching for all these years without him. 

But you knew better.

Instead, you shook your head, squeezing your eyes shut as if that would make him go away. “No, no, no.” It seemed to be the only word your tongue could form right then and so you repeated it over and over, clinging onto what it meant as if you were trying to convince yourself that you truly meant it. “I can���t be with you.”

“Yes, you can. You know you can.” His own desperation began to shine through, exposing his own years of heartache. He had waited so long for a moment like this. Every goddamn day since the day he had left you, he had regretted it, heartache permanently etched into his bones.

You snapped your eyes open, disbelief overtaking. “Are you serious?”

“Dead serious. Be with me.”

“We just hurt Yeonmi,” you said, your words getting caught in your throat. Then, once again, your chagrin towards him glared up as you glared. “And that was because she happened to walk in on us talking. What if she had seen us kiss? Tell me, would we even be having this conversation if she hadn’t found us?”

“I…” He frowned and you scoffed. 

“Would you have ever broken it off with her?” Or would I have had to deal with our intertwined web of lies all by myself? The bitter thought lingered.

“Yes.” The answer was immediate. “If you wanted that, I would have done it.”

“Of course I wanted it!” You blurted out, your fingers curling into the palm of your hand into a fist. “But I couldn’t want it, because she was my friend, Donghyuck. Even if you had broken it off, I still couldn’t do a damn thing.” 

He swallowed thickly, “I know, its fucked up, but I–”

“Yeah, fucked up. Too fucked up for me to even think about being with you.”

“But you have, haven’t you?” The question threw you off, and as if he had magically read your mind, he clarified, “You have thought about it.”

You froze, and your silence betrayed you immensely. There wasn’t a single lie you could have uttered in response that would have been convincing enough, not even to yourself. 

“I can do it this time,” he said so earnestly that it broke your heart all over again, his coffee-coloured eyes pleading with you. “I’m not going anywhere. I’ll never leave you again Y/n, I’m not a kid anymore. I can be here for you.” Promises fell from his mouth, sweet pledges and assurances that felt like balm to your wounded soul. 

But how were you supposed to trust the very person that had given you trust issues? 

How were you supposed to put those trust issues to the side and take him back with open arms without bruising your dignity any further? How were you to do it without falling apart?

Melancholy was a funny thing to have taken over you right then, self pity flooding your system, as well as pity for him. For so long, you had blamed him, but now that you took a step back and viewed your situation, you realised that you would have to do the very same thing he did so long ago.

The cyclical nature of life was pitilessly cruel, ravaging everything in its path no matter the case. It had brought you back to all you had ever known and wanted, all the while forcing you to let go, pulling the rug from under your feet without giving you the chance to find your footing. It had made him leave you and come back, only to have you walk away because of how wrong things were. 

Love found in dark, twisted places was never love that was meant to be nurtured. Love emerging from lies and deceit, situations that were impossible- it was love that would forever have to be left behind, no matter how pure it might have once been.

“I can’t love you.” 

“Y/n please-” 

“I’ve already hurt her, and if I love you again I’m going to hurt myself as well because I–I’m always the one that's left to sit and think about you. And it fucking hurts Donghyuck, it hurts.” You couldn’t believe him when he said he’d stay, because he had told you the very same thing all those years ago. You couldn’t be with him without guilt haunting your every move when you had so severely hurt Yeonmi due to your own agony.

You didn’t even realise you had started crying, tears cascading down your face. It was all so unfair, how something that had always been advertised as being simple had been anything but for you. Love had never once ended well for you, constantly picking you up and throwing you back down subsequently without giving you a moment to breathe.

Love was supposed to be the most beautiful thing in the entire world, so why was it so goddamn ugly? 

It crushed him to see you like this, so openly broken and yet guarded at the same time, your wall built up so high that he wasn’t sure he could ever break it back down again. He hated how it was him who always brought you to this point, and he tried to reach out to you to wipe away your tears, but you only flinched away from his touch. 

How the hell had you ended up like this? 

“Then tell me you don’t feel it.” He had to know. He needed to hear it from you.

Your lower lip quivered. “Feel what?”

God, you felt so much. Just looking at him was enough to stir up a surfeit of emotions that you hadn't the faintest clue how to handle, but one in particular overpowered the others, an ache emanating from your rib cage that was so potent, it exhausted you.

“Feel what you did when we were sixteen. Say it.”

Sixteen. You had felt so loved by another that barely understood the concept of it himself at the time, its meaning so completely untainted by the passage of time and complications that came. That innocence wasn’t to be found within you, but the remnants of it had grown and interwoven itself with what only he could bring out of you.

“I–”

“I’ll say it then, because goddamnit Y/n I love you.” The look on Donghyuck’s face ripped right through you. “I’ve always loved you, from the moment I saw you when we were teenagers. You’re the only person I’ve ever been in love with and I know you love me too.”

It fucking hurt. You couldn’t understand how the only person in the world who understood you so completely and saw right through everything you were was the one person you couldn’t let yourself be with. It was Donghyuck who used to notice even a slight switch in your mood when you were upset and it was him who would cheer you up the best he could. It was him who used to let you ramble on into the late of night and text you into the wee hours of the morning and him who now naturally gravitated towards you, just as you did to him. It was his jacket that you still had buried somewhere in your closet from all those years ago, with you unable to let go of it no matter how hard you tried. 

Even now when you had only reunited for a bitterly short period of time, he was still the one who intrinsically knew every part of you. He knew you loved him still.

You inhaled sharply, noticing the red tint to the white of his eyes, realising that he too was struggling to keep himself together right then. Shaking your head slowly, you moved closer towards his figure, touching his face gently and cupping it between your palms, searching his eyes intently.

“I love you.”

He shut his eyes the moment you said it, tears slipping down and catching on your fingertips as you brushed them away. 

“But even you know we can’t be together.”

The world had ripped the two of you away from each other once, and you had to trust that there was a reason for it. You knew you couldn’t let yourself go back because it was simply not meant to be with the circumstances and cards life had dealt you.

You loved Donghyuck- fuck, you loved him more than you thought was possible, and it still wasn’t enough. Neither of you could communicate through anything and shit was a hell of a lot more complicated than it was when you were just teenagers. He was right, he wasn’t a kid anymore and neither were you, but too much had happened. The timing was never right for him and you, there was always one thing or the other standing in the way, and the repercussions of everything was too much for you to simply put in the past, making the two of you something that would never work.

“I know.” 

The syllables left his lips so brokenly that you instinctively had the urge to somehow fix him- whatever part of him that was fractured. The front he had been parading around, the false sense of confidence that he had pretended to have about you had finally collapsed, leaving him with a truth he hadn’t come to terms with just yet. The resignation he possessed broke you further, and you pressed your lips to his firmly, trying to mend your fragmented souls.

But it was fruitless. This was a brokenness that you would have to learn to live with until time bandaged your matching wounds, dulling it down into what would one day just be the thought of how terribly it burned. 

“I’m sorry,” you whispered against his mouth. “I love you.”

Disentangling himself from you, he stepped outside of your apartment and looked at you, imagining you once again the way he had first met you. 

“I love you too.”

It was ironic, how words could mean something entirely different to what they were, how seemingly unrelated sentences were connected, a confession of affection serving the same purpose as a final farewell. Goodbyes of such permanence were merciless things and so when presented with one so absolutely brutal, he couldn’t help but think about the beginning, from the very first hello that passed between him and you. 

I love you. The very last time you’d ever hear it from him.

Those fragile, lovely rose tinted glasses you wore in your youth had snapped a long time ago, and you could see everything for what it was.

And now, he could too.

Time was said to heal all wounds, but only if it was a wound that was ready to be healed.

Everything about Donghyuck and you was unfinished back then, the millions of questions you had haunting your every move ever since it had so abruptly ended. For eight years that wound had been left wide open and time had only assisted in letting it fester, burying its memory deep within your psyche.

But time also brought wisdom in its stride. 

You picked up the mail your new roommate had left on your coffee table, shifting through the pile until you found the envelopes with your name on them. Leaving the rest behind, you made your way to your room, sighing in relief at finally being back in your comfort space.

Sitting atop your bed, you began opening each envelope. A letter from your grandmother who refused to learn how to send you a text, a card from an aunt and a few bills- the usual collection, but one stood out from the rest. The sender's address was entirely unfamiliar to you, and you frowned lightly, carefully tearing open the top and tipping out its contents.

A soft gasp escaped your lips.

Right there on your lap lay two tickets to Lee Jieun’s upcoming concert.

As if you were afraid that they would disintegrate, you gently picked them up and inspected them, in utter disbelief at the fact that you were holding them. You had failed to get tickets of your own when you had tried and yet here you were with not one, but two of them in your grasp- and they were the expensive kind, the ones where you had access to go backstage and meet the artists as well. 

For a moment you entertained the possibility of this being a mistake, but then you stopped your train of thought when it slammed head first into the only explanation as to how they had gotten here.

A small, wistful smile crept up upon you as you glanced back at the envelope, noticing a small piece of paper still inside. Taking it out, a breathless chuckle was all you managed after reading what it said.

‘Thought I’d at least keep this promise. – L.D’

Suddenly, you were taken back to that cafe where you had the conversation with Donghyuck. You hadn’t stepped foot in there since the last time you saw him- over two months ago when you knew it was over. 

Sometimes, a story doesn’t have to have an ending to be finished. 

You knew that a part of you would always love Donghyuck due to the ephemeral, innocent nature of the young love you had for him that had been ingrained within you. You had made your peace knowing that the two of you were something written into the world to die out eventually, something that you had to let go of even if it made no sense to you.

It was apparent that this was a love that could never truly be yours, as magnificent as it seemed it had never been yours to begin with in the first place. It was a mishmash of bad timing and rash teenage decisions mixed in with that sort of hopelessness you only found in the blissful oblivion of adolescence. You could wish and want a million things, but at the end of the day, now and then, some things were simply not meant to be.

The love between the two of you was something you were never supposed to claim, time and time again slipping through your fingers, and yet you still grieved for its loss.

But grief could be overcome. You shut your eyes, imagining his cheeky smile and fond eyes, the way he’d look at you while you were talking and all the pretty, empty promises he had made. All the talks of the future that had always been fractured for the two of you and moments of tenderness.

For once, you didn’t just picture him apologising to you over and over again, that ache having finally dulled out.

And when you opened your eyes, you didn’t feel sixteen anymore, instead you felt as if time had passed almost too quickly and reality was finally catching up. You felt older, properly this time, and much more experienced. 

Donghyuck had been your first love at the tender age of sixteen, the cause of your flushed cheeks and racing heart; affectionate, shy smiles and chaste kisses underneath streetlights. He had been the torrential downpour of rain upon a stormy sea, as violent as it was beautiful. All you felt about him had only ever been intense in nature, your youthfulness unable to process them in any other way. Now, looking back, perhaps there were several things you would have done differently, and maybe some you wouldn’t have done at all.

You would remember it all, every single detail of course, but when you thought about Donghyuck, you’d think about all the good. You’d remember laughing out over him singing along to your favourite songs on the radio while aimlessly driving around town, the late night conversations you’d sneak out together to have and the ice cream you’d share on hotter summer days. You’d think about his infectious laugh and the way he always managed to make you happy, the way he’d take care of you when you were sick and kiss your forehead goodbye each and every time. How your hand would perfectly fit in his, fingers intertwined and clasped together tight, how he’d whisper the three words that you so cherished back then at the most unexpected of times. You’d remember the love that was very real and very much lost and its seemingly magical, wild nature that you doubted you’d ever find again. 

You’d remember sixteen.

fin.

[dawnagustd]

throat goat || jhs

⇝ title: Throat Goat ⇝ pairing: rapper!hoseok x stylist!reader ⇝ genre: smut | slight frenemies with benefits ⇝ summary: The only thing you and Hoseok can agree on is that you know how to snatch his soul every time. ⇝ rating: 18+ ⇝ word count: 2k ⇝ warnings: unedited | strong language | reader is having a rocky sex life but nothing major | light bickering | degradation | semi-public sex | blowjob | tiddie fucking | reader is a baddie; let’s be real | slight power play dynamics | rude!hobi but he’s just frustrated | hoseok manspreading is a warning | teasing | spit/saliva play for lube | name calling | cum swallowing/eating | a little strip tease | breast fondling/groping | throat fucking | hair pulling | both of them confuse the hell out of me | open ending for those who don’t like those | reader is a “giver” | gagging | some aftercare | mixed emotions i guess | i think that’s all ⇝ author’s note: We’re late, but we’re here. This is my gift to the Hoseok heauxs(myself). It’s unedited but promising lol. You’ll see what I mean. Anyway, please enjoy this pwp. If you aren’t into the degrading stuff please don’t read this because though it isn’t too bad, the way he speaks to her in some moments is out of pocket lol. He doesn’t mean it, though (I think). Banner by @badgalsgetinfree​ (myself) ⇝ playlist: Pretty Girls Walk by Pretty Boss Vette | Slut Me Out by NLE Choppa | Don’t Play With It by Lola Brooke & Billy B

masterlist | permanent taglist form | read on ao3

“You wanted to see me?”

The door closes behind you and separates you from all the noises outside. All you hear now is a bunch of muffled voices and faint thuds as people move around backstage. It’s a big night, so the entire crew is busy making sure everything’s in order.

Hoseok has toured across the globe, and now it’s time for the grand finale. It’s only fitting he ends the journey where it all started. He wants everything to be perfect, so everyone’s been put through hell today, including you. 

“No. I don’t.” The tone of his voice indicates his irritation. You know it isn’t towards you no matter what he says. He’s just stressed; otherwise, you wouldn’t be in here. “I just want some head.”

Of course, he does.

You give the man a little sample, and now it’s his lifeline. Though you have to admit it’s been satisfying you as well. It’s surprising to you because usually, you get bored quickly, but somehow Hoseok has managed to keep this going for this entire tour duration. 

The first time it happened you were on his private jet. The second time, in the back of the sprinter, while everyone was getting food. 

Anytime the opportunity was given, you’d swallow him up. And now, he can’t get enough.

“What makes you think I have it to give?”

“I don’t have time for this shit,” he gripes.

With an eye roll, you walk over to where he’s sitting in nothing but some boxers, manspreading on the couch as if he has all the time in the world. You look down at him scrolling through his phone while you stand there between his legs.

“I can’t tell.”

“Fuck. Are you gonna do it or what?”

You sigh. “I guess so.”

Honestly, you’re ecstatic deep down. In simple terms, you’re a “pleaser.” You enjoy taking someone to their ultimate high and then seeing them bathe in it while they come down. As for yourself, you’ve never really gotten off from being on the receiving end. You rather be in charge of your own orgasms; that way you’ll come every time. 

You start to drop to your knees, but he stops you. 

“Take something off.”

“You’re running out of time, Hoseok.”

“You get paid to dress me, not manage my time. So maybe you should chill out before that’s not a thing anymore.”

It’s an empty threat. You aren’t going anywhere. No one does this job like you. 

No one.

“Have it your way,” you shrug. You take off your glasses and carefully set them on the small table. Hoseok has finally put his down just in time to watch you unbutton your sheer blouse, revealing your black lace bra underneath. You toss your shirt at him, and he catches it. You don’t miss the split-second pause before he puts it aside, probably wanting to inhale your perfume. “Is this okay?”

You spread your arms, displaying yourself for him, only for the rapper to shake his head. The next thing you take off is your bra, and his eyes begin to twinkle in the dimly lit dressing room.

“What about now?”

You squeeze your breasts together, giving him a little show while you wait for an answer. He sits up in his seat and places his hands at your sides. The warmth of his palms travels across your skin as he ventures up your body.

“Yeah, that’ll do it for me.”

Your body leans toward him while he cups your mounds, massaging them in his hands and even drawing a few moans from your lips. His lips delicately graze your flesh, and before he can get too carried away, you push him away.

“If you like them that much, I’ll show you a trick,” you tell him.

You drop to the floor and start pulling down his underwear. There’s not a second to waste. Soon this room will be filled with your team and others so all of you can get him ready for his performance. 

His dick is at attention as soon as it jumps out of his boxers. You lick your lips, already tasting his essence just by looking at the clear substance forming at the tip. Wrapping your hand around his shaft, you position yourself over him and allow a generous amount of saliva to coat his cock. He hisses from the contact, already sensitive and eager to blow his load.

“Hurry up,” he grunts, displaying nothing but impatience. You smirk, knowing you find pleasure in giving him exactly what he’s asking for.

“Sure.”

Once his dick is adequately lubricated, you lean forward with mouth already open, and your throat relaxed. You wrap your mouth around the head and take him inch by inch until the tip of his cock reaches the back of your throat. You use the opportunity to coat him with more spit until your lungs are burning from lack of air. You pull off and release him with a pop, repeating the action until you’ve teased him so much that he turns red.

“Bitch, stop playing around,” he growls, gripping your hair. 

Hoseok guides you to his cock, and you don’t object as he pushes your head down. He thrusts inside you, making you gag and choke around his girth. Your eyes begin to water as he penetrates your airways, leaving you lightheaded and gushing arousal into your panties. You’re thankful your shirt is short because the chill in the room is working overtime to cool down the pulsing heat between your legs. If you weren’t planning on using your hands tonight, you’d already have your fingers buried in your soaking cunt.

“Fuck are you doing to me?”

The gasp he makes when you start slurping and sucking him is the highlight of your night. You know he’s amazed by how much of him you can take in at once without needing to breathe, so that’s why you make it a point to show him there are many unlocked levels he hasn’t even discovered yet. Things he’ll probably never get to discover.

Tonight’s the last show. When the tour’s over, you’re taking a long vacation, and Hoseok will be the last person on your mind. This is fun, but you’d rather be doing this on the beach or something.

“Shit,” he whispers. 

You hope he doesn’t think you’re letting him come this quickly.

He gets angry when you release him, but you aren’t done. You poke out your chest and smother his cock with your tits. You watch him unravel as you push them together and bounce them up and down on his dick. The lewd squelching sound of your saliva fills the room and encourages you to keep going.

“Hoseok.”

“Shut up,” he groans, eyes closed as he tries to stay seated. “I don’t want to hear you.”

His nails dig into the couch while he struggles to ground himself.

“Why? Because I make you feel good?” 

“No, you aren’t special. Just convenient.”

“Convenient?” you laugh. “I like it. And you like me.”

“What? No, I–Fuck.”

Hoseok’s cock begins to twitch, and you know he’s at his peak. You switch back to sucking him, and within a few seconds, you’re milking him for everything he’s worth.

He moans and whimpers into the palm of his hand, hoping no one has heard him crying out your name. To save his pride, you pretend as if it never happened, but you definitely heard every syllable each time he called for you.

You swallow every drop and slowly remove him from your mouth. When he softens, you grab the shirt he came in with and start cleaning up the mess on both of you. Hoseok stays in his position, eyes closed as he comes down from his high. 

As much as you’d love to watch him blossom in his post-orgasmic state, there’s no time. It’s time to get ready.

“Hoseok, can you help me up? I’m wearing heels.”

He finally snaps out of it and springs into action. “Oh, shit. Sorry.”

“You’re good. I just don’t want you to be late.”

He helps you up and helps you get your clothes back on. You do it in silence. Neither of you wants to be the one who says something first. Nobody really wants to bicker after something like what you two just did.

“We’re good, right?” he asks after you’ve turned away to retrieve his clothes. “I don’t really remember anything I said.”

You can’t help but laugh. 

“If I didn’t like something, I’d tell you. Trust me.”

You pick out the last outfit on the rack, the one he picked, but when you turn around to take them to him, he’s already standing in front of you. He startles you, and you almost drop the clothes.

“Shit, Hoseok. You scared me.”

“You wanna come home with me tonight?”

Woah.

You were afraid this would happen. If he’s too attached, then—

“No, I’m not interested in you. I was just…thinking.”

Your head tilts with curiosity. “About?”

“Maybe I can help you with your little issue,” he suggests.

You should have known.

Hoseok has wanted to fuck you ever since you fucked around on the airplane. But you’ve shut him down every time with a “I’ll think about it.” 

You have thought about it, and you can’t lie and say you haven’t been interested. You’re just worried you’ll be disappointed. You don’t want to ruin the fantasies you’ve had about him. What if he can’t deliver?

“Just spend a few days with me,” he adds. “Like we talked about.”

You sigh. “Hoseok, we’ve gotta get ready now.”

You ask him to step aside, but of course. He’s persistent. 

“Look, you can’t gobble me up like that and expect me not to pay you back,” he winks.

You can’t ignore the butterflies in your stomach that flutter at his words, but you’re still tangled up in the worst scenarios. It’s silly; you'd rather be horny than have bad or average sex.

“And what if I’m not interested? What if we don’t get along?”

“I live in a mansion, love. You won’t even have to see me if you don’t want to. Leave when you want, come to my room whenever you want to. Like I said, it’s up to you.”

A knock on the door brings the pressure on. If you don’t answer now, then it’s decided for you because you won’t be able to speak about this. He’ll be busy, and so will you. This is it.

“I–”

More knocking and voices of people waiting to rush in and prepare for the show. Hoseok tells them he’s getting dressed, but that’ll only hold them for a little bit. Your mind is having a tug of war because you’re so stubborn, but you’re also curious. What if he’s as good as you’ve imagined?

“I’m not going to pressure you if you say yes,” he assures. “If you want it, you tell me.”

“We only have fifteen minutes!”

You know that it’s time when someone mentions the time. You take a deep breath and step out of your comfort zone because maybe it’s the reason you’re so horny in the first place. You have to give someone a chance. And who better than…

“Hoseok?”

“Yeah.”

“You’re going to kill it out there,” you say to him. 

You’re kind of surprised when he smiles at you because that’s never happened. 

“Thanks.”

“Mhm.”

You slip past him and make your way to the door to let in the staff, a growing smirk of your own gracing your face.

“Make sure you save some energy for me, though.”

But something tells you that you’ll be the one who needs to get some rest.

Either Hoseok’s about to rock your world, or you’re going to give each other the biggest headache you’ve ever had.

[harleybeaumont]

Never Have I Ever

Chapter 17 - Let Me Take You Dancing - Part 1

Book- TRR

Series- Never Have I Ever

Pairings- Bertrand x MC 

Chapter Synopsis- Riley helps Bertrand loosen up and teaches him how to dance.

Chapter Warnings- language, drug use, sensuality

Rating - Mature

Word Count- 1,915

A/N- the next chapter is about ready to go and should be posted tomorrow!

_________________________________________________

Chapter 17 - Let Me Take You Dancing - Part 1

After dinner that night, Bertrand found himself in the empty ballroom of the Beaumont estate, ready for a different kind of lesson from Riley. 

She took out her phone and scrolled through her playlists before finally choosing something with a repetitive beat and a lot of bass. She sat her phone down on a chair and began swaying her hips with a grin. “Ok, the mood is set. Let’s get you dancin’.”

Bertrand stood in place, watching her like a deer in headlights. “This.. was a mistake.”

“Hey, hey!” She took his hands, unsure whether or not he was about to actually run away. “Let’s start simple. Just loosen your body up first.” She shook out his arms comically and he couldn’t help but laugh.

“You are ridiculous!”

“Ya, but you laughed! And you look much more relaxed now!”

He scrubbed a hand down his face. “You make everything look so easy. I don’t think I have the ability to lose all my inhibitions the way you and Maxwell do. I worry too much about.. Well, everything.”

“Ok.. I have an idea, but I need you to keep an open mind. Have you ever gotten high before?”

Bertrand looked aghast, “Of course not! Other than.. well, the time I accidentally took two doses of pain medication when I sprained my ankle.”

Riley fought back a chuckle. “I’ll be right back!” She ran up to her bedroom and dug through her suitcase until she found the package of Delta 9 gummies tucked into the inside pouch. 

“Eat this.” She handed a gummy to Bertrand once she got back to the ballroom.

“What.. is it?”

“I’m gonna be straight with you. It’s basically candy with marajuana in it.”

“Riley!” His eyes widened. “I can’t take this! What if this puts me out of my right mind and I do something scandalous?!”

She grinned, “This isn’t like that. I take them sometimes and it doesn’t make me act any different. It just helps me relax.”

He looked at her skeptically. “When do you need help relaxing? You’re always so confident.”

She shook her head, “I get nervous a lot. But I get nervous about the things that are probably a breeze for you. Fancy dinners, ballroom dancing, talking to a literal king and queen. Those things scare me to death! So sometimes I need a little help.”

Bertrand’s face fell. “I didn’t know you were so anxious.. Perhaps I should have gone over those specific things in more detail. We could have practiced more if it would have helped. I feel terrible that I didn’t prepare you enough.”

She took his hands. “No, it’s not that. It’s just hard stepping out of my comfort zone sometimes. But.. you’ve helped me grow and learn so many new things and I really appreciate it. I’d like to think I’m a better person for it.”

Bertrand gave her a strange look that she couldn’t place, but it warmed her inside. “I should be saying the same thing to you.” He smiled softly and shook his head good naturedly. “Alright, Riley Brooks. I trust you. Take me out of my comfort zone.”

Riley smiled, “And I would never abuse your trust. So you’re really sure?”

”I’m sure.”

She bit the gummy in half and chewed her piece, before placing the other half against his lips. “We’ll start with half tonight since it’s your first time. It usually takes an hour or so to kick in, so we’ll start off really slow with the basics of dancing. Baby steps.” 

Meanwhile..

Maxwell strolled through the hallway on his way to the kitchen for a snack, when the faint sound of dance music hit him. Curious and slightly offended at the fact that someone was having a dance party without him, he followed the sound until he ended up outside of the ballroom doors. Cracking open the door, he peered inside and threw his hand over his mouth to stifle his gasp.

Riley was holding Bertrand’s hands while teaching him to do a basic side to side step to the beat of one of her favorite songs. He watched in awe as Bertrand furrowed his brow the way he always did when he was seriously concentrating on something. Riley moved behind Bert, taking hold of his hips, trying to help him move more fluidly, and Max didn’t miss the way Bertrand blushed and smiled to himself. 

“Wow,” Max whispered with a huge grin. For years he had been trying to teach his big brother how to dance like that, but Bertrand wouldn’t have it.

He is so far gone. Max chuckled to himself, watching the two of them while they danced and laughed together. Riley brought out something in Bertrand that Max had never seen before. 

“Maxwell?” 

Max jumped and spun around, shocked to see Savannah of all people creeping up behind him. He hurried away from the ballroom door, ushering her with him. “Sav, what’s up?” He asked, his voice squeaking slightly.

She looked at him curiously, trying to get past him to peek into the ballroom. “What were you looking at in there?”

“Nothing!” 

“But I hear music..”

Max jumped in front of her, “Uh, actually I was coming downstairs for a snack and I heard music and I found, uh.. Two members of the staff dancing in the ballroom. It was so cute that I just had to watch for a minute, but I think we should give them some privacy.”

Savannah raised an eyebrow, “What about that is cute?”

“Well, these two have been avoiding their feelings for each other for so long and they're finally getting together. Don’t you think that’s cute and romantic?”

She shrugged. “If you say so.”

Max led her farther away from the ballroom. “What are you doing down here?”

“I was looking for Bertrand to be honest. I knocked on his door but he didn’t answer so I was on my way to the kitchen to see if he was there.”

“I think he’s actually in bed asleep!” Max quickly lied, “He was really tired earlier. Hey, why don’t you come to the kitchen with me and I can cook you my specialty!”

Savannah glanced back at the ballroom doors one more time, then followed Maxwell. “What’s your specialty?”

Max grinned excitedly, “Well.. It’s taken me years to perfect, but I can now make flawless ants on a log!”

“Ants on a log?” She snorted derisively. “Isn’t that just celery, peanut butter, and raisins? We made that in grade school.”

“It's all about the ratio, Sav! And I have found the perfect ratio!”

Maxwell led Savannah to the kitchen and out of sight, keeping her occupied for the rest of the night.  

_______________________________________________

An hour into his dance lesson, Bertrand moved cautiously to the beat, shifting his feet and subtly swaying his hips. Riley took his hands in hers and grinned approvingly. “Nice! You already have more moves than most guys at the club!”

Bertrand chuckled, “You’re teasing me again.”

She shook her head, “I’m not, I swear!” A mischievous grin alit her face. “Oh my gosh, I have an idea.. Field trip!”

“Come again?”

“We’re taking a field trip tonight to an actual club! Then you can scope it out and practice before you go on your date!”

She pulled his hand and he stumbled a bit, “B-but.. This is all happening so fast! Maybe tomorrow!”

“No sir,” She grinned, “Tonight! Come on, I’ll help you get ready!”

______________________________________

Clothes were flying out of the closet as Riley tossed shirt after shirt aside in search of something casual for Bertrand to wear. He grabbed a white button up and a tie off the rack and held it out to her. 

“What about this?”

She arched an eyebrow, “What about this is casual?”

“The tie?” He shrugged. “It has gray polka dots. That’s ‘fun’ right?”

“Maybe it would be ‘fun’ for a brunch with the queen or something, but you’ll stick out like a sore thumb in that. Ohhh, hello what is this?” Riley held out a black leather jacket. “This is hot, Bert! Why haven’t I seen you wear this before?”

“Maxwell got it for me for Christmas a couple years ago. I never felt the urge to join a biker gang so I never wore it.” He laughed at his own joke for far too long and Riley couldn’t help but join in.

“You’re starting to feel that gummy, aren't you?”

He chuckled again, “I’m not sure. But I feel giddy and a tad wobbly on my feet. Is that normal?”

“Yes it is,” she laughed. “You’re definitely feeling it. Now we need to hurry and get you to the club while you’re riding that high. And I know just where to find you an outfit.”

“Maxwell’s room?” Bertrand asked as they entered his younger brother's empty bedroom. “But.. he’s a size smaller than me. And he wears his clothes tight as it is. Anything from his closet will look like it’s been painted on me.”

Riley grinned, looking him up and down, “Yes that’s kind of the point, Bert. She thrust a dark gray t-shirt at him.”Please wear this with the leather jacket. You’ll look amazing!”

Bertrand began unbuttoning his shirt and they looked awkwardly at each other before Riley reluctantly turned around and began rummaging through Maxwell’s dresser drawers. “I’ll see if he has some jeans you can wear.”

She tossed a pair of distressed, dark wash blue jeans to him. “Put these on and I’ll go get the jacket.” She wanted to stay and watch him change clothes but she knew if she did, she might try to jump him.. And most likely get rejected. Besides, she needed to remember that this whole thing was to prepare for a date he was going on with another woman. 

Once she returned to Maxwell’s room she nearly gasped at the sight before her. “Fuck me..” she whispered as she looked him up and down. The tight t-shirt stretched over his biceps and accentuated his broad shoulders and pecs, and the jeans hugged him in all the right places. “Bert, you look fucking hot!”

He blushed, looking at his reflection in the mirror. “Are you sure? These jeans are riddled with holes. I feel naked.”

Now it was Riley's turn to blush because his comment had her picturing him naked. She cleared her throat, “You look.. Really good.”

He smiled shyly, “If you say so.”

She helped him slip on the jacket and smoothed it out, letting her fingers slowly travel across his shoulders and down his arms. 

Bertrand shivered beneath her touch, but all too soon it was gone.

She backed away, “I’m going to go to my room and get ready really quick. I’ll meet you back in your bedroom in ten minutes, ok?”

Riley knocked at his door about twenty minutes later wearing a skin tight maroon dress that left Bertrand’s mouth dry and his heart pounding. Her golden, wavy hair framed her face, accentuating her smokey eye shadow and deep crimson lips. She looked nothing short of a goddess and Bertrand physically had to shake himself to stop staring. 

“How do I look?” She asked with a grin.

Bertrand brought her hand to his lips and placed a soft kiss against her knuckles, surprised by his own boldness. “Absolutely ravishing.”

[frozen-orbit]

Some of my favorite lyrics from my Renegades playlists that i associate with Nova:

"Don't you call me a coward traitor." - Partisano, Miguel Bosé

"I am not a child now, I can take care of myself. I musn't let them down now." - I'll try, Jonatha Brooke

"I'd be starving if I ate all the lies they fed." - Get it together, India.Arie

"I don't know where to go. What's the right team?" - Scream, HSM3

"I don't trust nobody and nobody trusts me. I'll be the actress starring in your bad dreams." - Look what you made me do, Taylor Swift

"I don't wanna fight alone anymore, break me out from the prison of my own pride. My God, I need a hope I can't deny. In the end I'm realizing I was never meant to fight on my own." - On my own, Ashes Remain

"I feel just like an actress up on the stage, I can't believe what I'm hearing myself say." - Say Goodbye, Katharine McPhee

"If I could go back and change the past, be a little braver than I had and bet against the odds, would I still be lost? Even if I woke up in my dreams, would there still be something I'm missing?" - Wondering, Julia Lester feat. Olivia Rodrigo

"If I could show them everything I've seen, open their eyes to all the lies, then would they change their minds like I did?" - This Wish, Wish

"I know what I came to do and that ain't gonna change. So go ahead and talk your talk cause I won't take the bait." - Focus, Ariana Grande

"I'm afraid of the things I don't say, the thoughts in my head that keep me tossing, turning, lying awake." - Low, Wage War

"I'm more than what you've made of me. I followed the voice you gave to me, but now I've gotta find my own." - Listen, Beyonce

"In darkness I've walked by relying only on the shining star. I know I've been walking this way based on my will and choice, but I keep looking elsewhere. Are these my lingering feelings? I know it shouldn't but I'm afraid that it will turn into regrets." - TMT, Stray Kids

"In youth, you'd lay awake at night and scheme of all the things that you would change." - Warriors, 2WEI feat. Edda Hayes

"I've seen you before, you all are the same, you're just another going up in the flames. And if I'm dying in the fight, it'll be while I'm bringing you down to the grave." - Enemy, Tommee Profitt

"Love to watch all the stars when they align. Come alive, I don't ever take a night off." - Miracle, WayV

"Maybe I'm safer when I'm on the run, no time to open up my heart. Maybe I'll hide behind my walls again instead of tearing them apart." - Second chance, HSMTMTS

"Now there's blood in my hands. Guess we're one and the same." - Interlude, Stormzy

"Only got one shot, I’m a one-girl army." - Do or Die, AleXa

"Should I question every move I make?" - Bet on it, HSM2

"So I had this dream. It meant everything, and I watched it come alive. Then I let you in, underneath my skin, and I learned to love the lies. Now I lay awake and I contemplate, have I become what I hate? Can I take it back? 'Cause it's all I have. Will it get the best of me?" - Bow down, I prevail

"They say that I must learn to kill before I can feel safe." - In the shadows, The Rasmus

"Whatever they say, I’m not guilty. Yeah, I’m a bad hero." - Villain, AleXa

"You still don’t really know me. People might think I’m a nice girl but they don’t know the real me." - BEcause, Dreamcatcher

[ghostonly]

So I was grabbed hold of by my music hyperfixation today and it turned out, today's the day I learn more about the history of American music as made by African Americans. Since, you know, they did most of it.

I've known for a long time that American music has deep roots in Black experiences and culture, but it was always such a behemoth of genres and artists that I didn't know what exactly I liked or where to start.

So, today, I figured I'd do what I do best and start with all of it at once.

Okay, not exactly. I'm doing it in chronological order. But in order to accurately order the shitload of playlists and folders I was making on Spotify, I needed to know what order those genres were discovered in.

I am not in school for this, I'm not educated on this and, as a white person, I don't feel like I have the nuance, experience, or understanding to properly write a massive post about this topic, but I did want to share a few articles I've read today, because they were extremely well-written (as far as I can tell), informative, and moving.

Reasons to Read These

African Americans have been the driving force in just about every music genre that's come out of America. If you don't already know that, or want to know more, you should read these.

Do you find music and musical evolution fascinating? You should read these.

Are you queer? Disco is part of queer culture as well and the overlap between Black and queer culture in that time period leans heavily on disco, which is fascinating and part of your own history. You should read these.

If you care about racial tensions in the US, the article that talks about Earth, Wind, & Fire goes into the ways disco impacted racial tensions in the US in the late 70s. It's good knowledge to have under your belt. You should read these.

Bonus shout out to The Get Down on Netflix. I watched this a year or two ago and was obsessed with it for a few days until the fixation passed. This is part of the driving inspiration for me looking into the history of disco and hip-hop so extensively today, because the vibes in the show were just... enrapturing. And, looking at the Wikipedia page for it to double check how it was received by people who know more than me, it does seem to have good reception. I especially like that they involved historical pioneers in its creation (DJ Grandmaster Flash, who invented modern use of turntables for hip-hop, DJ Kool Herc, and Kurtis Blow, all in their 60s and part of the original hip-hop scene in the Bronx). So if you want to watch something that will get you hyped about disco and hip-hop, I can just about promise you that'll do it. Needless to say, I will be rewatching it very soon.

Long but detailed and very well written. Has many artist suggestions:

A shorter summary for someone who wants a quick read:

I hope some of you will click through and learn something with me today c:

[bigsunflowergang]

Wrd2mydeads🎵🎵

just feel like sharing my NY drill playlist with y’all bc i use a lot of them in my fics !

**= favorite …. you guys should listen !!

speed racing- kay flock (🔓) ft. blovee

triple threat- sdot go, naz gpg, & jay hound

raggy- spliffhappy

psa- kay flock (🔓)

is ya ready- kay flock (🔓)

penthouse- 41 (jenn carter, kyle richh)

insecurities- 41 (tata)

**black ops- faZe kayasan, 41 (jenn carter, kyle richh, tata, dee billz), c blu, kenzo balla

**joker- 41 (jenn carter)

**deuce- 41 (jenn carter, kyle richh)

d & d- blockwork & sha ek

wna- sdot go

shock- 41 (jenn carter, tata)

**wait- 41 (jenn carter, kyle richh, tata)

get home- set da trend (setty b)

evil twins pt. 2- sugarhill ddot & notti osama(🕊️)

everybody shot- 41 (jenn carter, kyle richh, no kartii, jerry west)

ayo bri (remix)- sugarhill keem (🔓) ft oy quan (🔓)

**catch up- bbg steppaa ft. dd osama

catch up pt. 2- bbg steppaa ft. dd osama

shot in the party- sha ek

o’s let’s do it (original)- dd osama & deeplay4keeps

keep geekin’- gooddayray ft. dthang gz (🔓 free my man my man)

**on the radar freestyle- jayklickin & jstar balla

**on the radar freestyle- dthang gz (🔓)

move it- sugarhill ddot

gzz box- dthang gz (🔓)

**breakin bad (okay)- sleepy hallow ft. sheff g (🔓)

**stop cappin- sugarhill ddot

eternal- dd osama

**2055- sleepy hallow

**bunny hop- dthang gz (🔓) ft. tdot (🔓 free the whole RPT)

free swindle- k. sixmade ft. 83baby, 3stripes, and dd osama

ice cream truck- sugarhill keem (🔓)

without you- dd osama ft. notti osama (🕊️)

take trips- sugarhill ddot ft. jstar balla

**can’t wait- sugarhill keem

see red- 41 (jenn carter, tata)

headshot- lil tjay, polo g, and fivio foreign

blame on me- j.i. the prince of new york

**talk facts- dthang (🔓), bando gz (🔓), and tdot (🔓)

**FUCKING FREE RPT.**

movelook- sugarhill keem

**movelook (remix)- sugarhill keem ft. blockwork

designer- sheff g (🔓) ft. sleepy hallow

imagination- mo kartii

throw- lil mabu & dd osama

dream- sugarhill ddot

sexy & i know it- sugarhill keem (🔓)

la lokita- jstar balla

wait for you- jayklickin ft. dd osama

missing- crazy james ft. dudeylo

**on the radar- enphamus

flock at the flockas- sugarhill keem (🔓)

wtf- sugarhill keem (🔓)

evil twins- sugarhill keem (🔓) ft. oy quan (🔓)

**shake it- kay flock (🔓), cardi b, dougie b (🔓) ft. bory3000

**opponent- dthang (🔓)

caution- dthang (🔓)

**like- dthang (🔓) ft. bando gz (🔓)

whoopty- cj

no remorse- sugarhill ddot

**many men- lee drilly (🔓)

don’t play with it- lola brooke ft. billy b

make it lit- kenzo b

**friday night- edot babyy (🕊️)

**red ruby da sleeze- nicki minaj (👑)

**stack it- bando gz (🔓)

dead opps- dd osama ft. notti osama (🕊️)

touch the ground- edot babyy (🕊️), sha ek, & sugarhill keem (🔓)

**wedgie man this, wedgie man that- dthang (🔓)

wild west- bigga bzz

**opp huntin’- kenzo balla

how you every o shot- cj goon, 30, sha ek

explosive freestyle- dudeylo

**bizurk- 41 (jenn carter)

**on gang- 41 (jenn carter, kyle richh, tata)

**being honest- kay flock (🔓)

**brotherly love- kay flock (🔓), dougie b (🔓), b lovee

tcardi- kay flock (🔓), dougie b (🔓), lilskrap 1090, justo b

opp spotter- kay flock (🔓) & blovee

**scene- dthang (🔓)

bestie- sleepy hallow

**deadly- nesty gzz ft. say drilly (🔓), lee drilly (🔓), e-wuu

EOS- yagi b, set da trend, dougie b (🔓)

public service announcement- lee drilly (🔓)

**4 for 4- leeks g bando ft. lee drilly (🔓), kay hound, bando gz (🔓)

**freak on- lee drilly (🔓)

habits- dthang (🔓)

get crazy- sugarhill keem (🔓)

no suburban pt. 2- sheff g (🔓)

**drill k pt. 1- tae porter

**50 for 50- blockwork

oyk- nas ebk (🔐 keep that nigga) ft. set da trend

dead gz- kenzo balla

**get back- sha ek ft. pj glizzy (🔓)

this is new york- scar lip

**stuck in my ways- dougie b (🔓)

**no ozone- cblu ft. set da trend

**muddy- pj glizzy (🔓)

bffr- kenzo b

**spinnin’- bbg steppaa & sugarhill ddot

300 bluntz- jayklickin & buba 35

**wrecc- 83baby & jayklickin

not in the mood- kay flock (🔓), lil tjay, & fivio foreign

**keep it 100- dougie b (🔓)

**me, myself, & i- kay flock (🔓)

fetty- 41 (jenn carter, tata, kyle richh)

**kant lack- kenzo balla & faZe kaysan

cuz we did- 41 (tata & kyle richh)

**princess diana- ice spice (👑) & nicki minaj (👑)

**deli- ice spice (👑)

*************************************************

in my miles era rn but can’t forget my husband man free dthang, free bando, free RPT & drilly gzzly 💔💔💔 free doa, free pj glizzy, free the ed twins FREE NEW YORKKKKKK

[dragonairice]

Brooke Lohst for the send me a character thing :)

OH MY GOSH THANK YOU

favorite thing about them

Her outfits!!! both the canon outfits for Brooke and all the lovely fan made ones are always so fun and nice <3

least favorite thing about them

Uhh probably just how many sexual references she has in her lines. Like I know that's intentional but also I'm too asexual for this hjd /lh

favorite line

"Isn't the sun on the bleachers tres magnifique?"

CLOSE SECOND IS "Embrace the traits that make you so odd" BUT THIS ONE HAS THE ADDED BONUS OF BEING FUNNY AND ALSO I CAN OVERANALYSE IT /POS

brOTP

BROOKE AND JEREMY FRIENDSHIP FUELS MY SOUL

OTP

I think I have made it very obvious that I am a huge fan of playride

nOTP

Don't have one unless you count ships with Squips / the older characters. I do dislike pinkberry for personal reasons but I'm not against shipping it

random headcanon

Brooke collects glitterpens and hairclips but keeps losing them at the bottom of her bag and doesn't find them until she washes it.

unpopular opinion

I think she should take a break from the popular kids and figure herself out.

song i associate with them

SHE BY DODIE. Also The Romantic by Lauryn Marie. I have an entire playlist for her so-

favorite picture of them

it's basic but this one

[buildingunderstanding]

I had the thought this afternoon to maybe make a playlist for Thor like I have for Loki and Apollo. He's seems to have popped in a bit more frequently, maybe that would be a good idea.

And as soon as I had the thought "what songs should I add?" The Thunder Rolls by Garth Brooks started playing in my mind and I don't quite know what to do with that.

[thefloatingstone]

tagged by @gammaraydeath! yay!!

Shuffle your favorite playlist and post the first five songs that come up. Then copy/paste this ask to your favorite mutuals

I just dump everything into my "liked songs" playlist and don't really do organised playlists because I am too lazy. So this is gonna be a lot of "what song was this again???" because I also use Liked songs to put songs I heard once and wanted to bookmark them.

Firefly by Stratovarius (?? when did I add this to likes?)

The Prayer by Bloc Party

StrangeProcession by Michael Brook

Death Stranding by CHRVCHES (this is the theme for Death Stranding but in my heart it is a Shakarian song)

Don't you forget about me by Simple Minds

uhhhhh idk who can I bother without coming across as annoying? XD I tag @me-and-my-gaster @bamsara @leafaske @dana-chan-the-control-brain @le-poofe

---

wait I realise this is all spotify stuff!! I should make a separate list of the stuff I listen to that's not released there (afaik)!!

SP1RIT ANIMAL by Mr Mehster

Balmora Vice by Young Scrolls

Underwater by Windows 96

Don't Leave by Gummy Boy

Blue Night by Doji Morita

[shiverandqueeef]

With the recent explosion of interest in true crime as a genre of "entertainment", I've come to the conclusion that if you're going to be making media content out of human misery there is at least a correct way to do it.

Netflix documentaries and fictionalized retellings of real life events glamorize, sensationalize and mythologize serial killers and their crimes in a way that induces such intense brain rot in viewers you end up with white women on twitter writing self insert fanfic of themselves and jeffrey dahmer. Casting attractive actors and throwing them under some mood lighting so you can delve into the darkest mysteries of the human mind (it really ain't that mysterious, it's just misogyny) is pretty much the worst possible approach you can take. well, unless your intention is to make a shit ton of money by exploiting real people's pain, in which case congrats and i hope you burn in hell.

The correct approach, imho, is to follow the Mel Brooks method for depicting nazis on screen. There is no shortage of media created with the intent of condemning nazism, only to have it become whole-heartedly embraced by actual neo-nazis. American X is a great example of a film that has the ultimate message of nazis = bad, and yet it is a wildly popular film with white supremacists. Because even if the nazis in the movie are the bad guys, they're being portrayed by attractive, charismatic actors and framed by the camera as powerful threats. Often they even come across as cool.

You know which portrayals of nazis don't get appropriated? Media that laughs at them. There's a reason springtime for hilter isn't on any neo nazis playlist.

Serial killers should be treated the same way. I like to use buzzfeed unsolved as an example of true crime done right. The hosts don't waste time being awed by the immense criminal "genius" of infamous killers. They just go "wow this guy sucks. fuck him."

The best way to tell true crime stories is to break down the myth of the genuis serial killer. By highlighting over and over how almost all of these people's crimes were only possible because a) they targeted vulnerable demographics society doesn't care about b) police corruption c) police incompetence and/or d) police simply not giving a shit (you may be sensing a theme here)

You laugh at them. Not in a way that mocks their victims, but in a way that makes it clear these people are not some larger than life mythical figure. They aren't an edgy genuis with chess master minds worth being fascinated by. They aren't misunderstood mysterious creatures you can heal with your super special love. They just suck.

[burneraccbcyallpissedmeoff]

First of all, this is a burner account so, rage all you want I'm not gonna respond, but i had to get this off my chest, either that or I'll just leave this fandom

Alexis

Let's break it down

1.Alexis is not that important to have eachother by the throat over

This discourse is pointless, and petty as fuck, we don't care if you love her or you want to fuck her keep it to yourself

2.you don't know SHIT about Alexis to do all of this

Unless erik gave you and only you private audios where Alexis has a listener and you know her like you know the characters with playlists and audios, you ain't got no fucking right to decide for us if she's redeemed or deserves to die by garlic poisoning

Assume for yourself, leave everyone else

If you're gonna bring up that we would understand her if we know her side of the story, well guess what? We don't know that yet, we'll cross that bridge when we get to it

3.don't compare Alexis to other villains in the story

Before you come and say "oh but yall simp/don't trash talk vega/blake/quinn/ivan like you do her" count with me

Vega has: a playlist, 2 listeners, a mention and a voice in the imperium and is an important plot point + a main character in the plot

Blake has: a playlist, a listener (two if you will), and is an important plot point + a main character in the plot

Ivan has: a playlist, 2 listeners, a mention and a voice in the imperium + a main character in his story

Quinn has: a mention in the imperium and is a plot point of which a whole playlist was built by (without counting fred's taken down playlist)

What does Alexis have to be worthy enough of comparing to any of those villains?, all she has is 5 minutes in the imperium (while torturing milo,i should add), and she gets killed right after

Next time you wanna compare her to someone else make sure they are

-a side character

-only mentioned in prime

-only voiced in the imperium

-portrait as a villain

Anything else it's invalid

4.why Alexis

Out of ALL the side characters we've seen that has been mentioned/voiced/talked about yall chose to care for her? What makes her so goddamn special????

Miguel is around, brooks is too, christian, ansel exist in that universe, no one seems to care? Why? Why did we never have a discourse over if christian got better or not? We heard about/from him way more then we ever did Alexis

If you like her voice that much, go to "love boldly voice acting asmr", healer is over there, go simp for her

But if your argument includes

-because she's a woman

-because she's a POC

I have news for you, you're sexist and racist, putting a woman above all the other male characters and putting someone with a darker skin shade above all (assumed) white people

if you can't see christian becoming better and still see him as an asshole, but also see Alexis for the better side of her, it's not fucking fair

5.All around Alexis

This is the actual reason i didnt post this on my actual account but fuck it

Yall are insane about Alexis because yall are afraid and brain-washed to think that POC and woman do no wrong, let alone a mix of two

Yall think that

POC/woman = saints

Which as i said racist against any other race yall are putting down for it( in this case white,because somehow having a whole cast of black people≠having a whole cast of white people,and the former is better while the latter is cancel worthy) and sexist because yall cherish her over all other male characters

And that is not your fault, not really, it's what the media made you think, but i wish you realize it before it's too late

I say this as a black person, racism can be against any and all race

6.a reminder

If you think we'll understand Alexis if we hear her side of turning sam

I hope to remind you that:

Sam still hasn't bitten darling not only because he was turned against his will by Alexis

But he has a bad past with biting because of her even before he was turned

:)

That is all i have to offer of now, shall we meet at another discourse,if i didntget banned till then:)

[sarah-dipitous]

Hellsite Nostalgia Tour 2023 Day 148

The Reichenbach Fall

“The Reichenbach Fall”

Plot Description: Moriarty hatches a mad scheme to turn the whole city against Sherlock.

Oh, Jawnnnnnnnn. Glad you went back to therapy over it though

Ok yes. He’s been ungrateful with his other tokens of gratitude, but to humiliate the man by making him wear the deer stalker cap after he’s just brought you interpol’s most wanted? Come on…

It’s an EAR hat, Jawn

The “confirmed bachelor” lines were no accident and just blatant queer baiting.

Jimmmmm!! Jim my love

I…made this scene a VERY large part of my personality for TOO LONG. Now I’m just gonna sit back and enjoy watching this man bring a country to its knees (this part of The Thieving Magpie was my alarm for years, and I maintain that I was correct to have it. It’s way better than what I have now)

Who’s doing it like him, I ask you

Wiggling, squirming. Oh man. I had THIS on playlists too (the song right before Jim’s trial…when I say my WHOLE PERSONALITY…stayin alive was also my ringtone. Would you believe I’m divulging this lore SOBER?? Because I am)

Do not be yourself in this trial, Sherls, omg…

There’s a weird nostalgic pang of “god I wish that was me” when he asks the one courtroom worker (truly, I don’t know her job title) to slip her hand into his pocket. Maybe it’s just the Irish accent. It’s just for gum but he’s so slutty about it

I can’t look at this actress without thinking of her as Jen from the IT Crowd. She can’t be anything else in my mind. She’s forever Jen doing a bit in a costume in different places (this is going to take forever to watch if i keep pausing like this)

The Sheriarty is jumping out right now. You don’t describe someone you know is definitely listening and watching you as “a spider, a spider at the center of a web. A criminal web with a thousand threads, and he knows precisely how each and every single one of them dances.” YOU ARE LOOKING INTO HIS EYES AT HIS TRIAL AS YOU SAY THAT ABOUT HIM. Were I a consulting criminal, I would be so flattered by that description

Oh god…don’t make the jury hate you. Yeah. Of course he finds it impossible to not show off

This tea scene omgggg when he…is it really breaking into 221b if Sherlock is expecting him??

Every once in a while, I do get the glimpses of how these three shows got lumped together. Jim telling Sherlock he’s boring because he’s on the side of the angels is definitely one of those things

He’s got the best little speeches “no such thing as a private bank account now, they’re all mine. No such thing as secrecy, I OWN secrecy. Nuclear codes? I could blow up nato in alphabetical order. In a world of locked rooms, the man with the key is king, and honey, you should seeee meeee in a crown” (did I do an embarrassing amount of that from memory? maybe so)

Oh shit…i forgot the fairy tale stuff Moriarty puts them through…I mean, you gotta fill 90 minutes somehow (I want to sleep so badly…but I’m not even half way done)

I fucking hate how he treats Molly. She deserves better than him and this show. God…she thinks she doesn’t count…fuck. I hate it

Riiiight. He made it seem like the kidnapping was Sherlock’s doing so he could then solve it and he the hero. Just planting the seeds of doubt

Oh the Tale of Sir Boast-a-lot

When villains hijack the airwaves>>>>>> (my taste has not changed a bit in 10 years lmaooooo) I know in this case, he’s actually the cab driver, but he’ll do it later in the series. For now, we’ll just enjoy this nice little story Jim’s telling

You can’t outrun………oh, that was one of the assassins that moved onto baker street

It’s so weird that he’s doing exactly what Jim wants him to do…..

He’s unbelievably precious as Richard Brook. Insisting he’s a children’s storyteller, he’s on tv. It’s on dvd. You do almost forget that he’s a criminal mastermind for a second, except for that one moment when Kitty can’t see him and he has that look on his face as he glances at Sherlock

John and Mycroft have such a good dynamic. No matter if they’re on the same side, on opposing sides…it’s always a good scene when it’s just them

Uuuuggggghhhhhhhh, we’re starting with the roof of St Bart’s scene…will it be as good and heartbreaking as I remember?

Reader, it is. Jim’s lament about how easy it was to beat Sherlock, his best distraction for the monotony of staying alive. Oh, bby. Andrew Scott is such a good actor.

The fact that there was no code, that it was always a few of those threads that Jim made dance to send the world crashing down around them.

(I’m currently living in a world where his character didn’t get absolutely fucked over by the last episode of the series…………….so far(?))

I do like that Jim underestimates the importance of Molly. She still deserves better from everyone around her, but it’s nice that she’ll get SOME recognition in season 3

Pausing because I know what comes next and I don’t want it to…

Can we not just stay like this??? (Not if I want to make it a true full rewatch…)

I STAY a “here’s how [villain] can still live/be alive” girlie. I DO NOT CHANGE LMAO

Oh the phone call… “nobody could be that clever” “you could” I hate everything

Mycroffffffffft. Jawwwwwwwwn.

John at Sherlock’s grave is just…heart wrenching. Always and forever.

This is the best and highest rated episode of this show for GOOD REASON

[ssenvs3000f23]

Music in Interpretation

Blog 7: Where is music in nature? Where is nature in music?

As a follow-up (focus on the above two before you tackle this one), what song takes you immediately back to a natural landscape? What is the context? Share it with us – I would imagine many of these ideas may have similar underpinnings of a campfire, roadtrip, backpacking journey, etc.!

From my experiences, music is very prominent all throughout nature. If we look for it hard enough, I believe we can find music in any part of nature. The most obvious place is in animals like whales and birds who have songs of their own, but upon closer inspection music is abundant in many other natural places. From the gurgle of a brook to leaves rustling from a breeze there is no question that there is a natural music to the world around us. When I get stressed, I like to venture into the forest behind my house and listen to the sounds of nature. This allows me to slow down and return to my roots as a creature of earth. It is moments like these that truly make me believe that nature is filled with music.

By the same token, nature is a motif in music around the world. “In many cultures, stories, songs, poems, and dances are not just for celebration and fun, but also to teach and inform (Courselink).” Music is within humans. We are connected to our environment. Therefore, that connection and awe of nature often inspires music. I enjoyed reading the article from our textbook, The Arts Provide Another Dimension to Interpretation, as there was a quote which mentioned that “If the songs are not sung and the stories are not told, the land will die.” It was also said that “If the songs are not sung and the stories are not told, danced, painted, or acted, our spirits will die as well.” Humans are very emotional creatures. Something to note about music is that it draws on our emotions, frequently resulting in an impactful and moving experience. Due to this idea, I believe that nature interpretation should include music as it will increase emotional participation. It is something that we need more of in discussions and action revolving around environmental issues like climate change.

Personally, I adore music and I have so many songs that remind me of natural landscapes. In my experience, music has always had the power to create vivid images in my mind. If I’m being honest, I have a whole playlist that reminds me of the mountains. Music evokes such powerful emotions, and this playlist never fails to encapsulate the feelings I have when I’m travelling. Although there are many, the one song that never fails to take me back to the mountain ranges is Sleep on the Floor by the Lumineers. This song is particularly good at drawing me back to the mountains because it reminds me of my trip to Tofino, BC. We drove from Nanaimo to Tofino (a 2.5-hour drive) and blasted the Lumineers the whole time. I grew up travelling and listening to the Lumineers on long drives, so it is only natural that this song reminds me of the natural places I’ve been to (specifically mountains).

I’ve attached the link to the song mentioned (Sleep on the Floor by the Lumineers) as well as some images from my travels that often appear in my head when listening to it.

YouTube Link: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=v4pi1LxuDHc