#I hit post instead of edit so then I had to make this private to actually type out the answer.....i'm doing great

[terrainofheartfelt]

9, 17, 18, 29?

9. Favorite pairing you wrote for this year? hmmmmmmmmmmm I don't know!! I think if I like a pairing enough to the point that I do in fact write about them then they are a favorite. perhaps....dan/nate? that is just a ship I keep coming back to because it is so comforting in such a singular way, there's an energy to them that none of the other couple I write carry. wait I changed my mind: dairthaniel. A ship I didn't plan to write anymore but I enjoyed so much that I did it anyway. I'm not sure how, but I think it's Cherry's fault :)

17. Your favorite character to write this year? I really liked writing Jenny's point of view in fics this past year. her voice and the way she looks at things, and how she is in the world of the show-verse while also being a spectator to it, and getting to write how she Got Out and healed...I just love her and want to give her wonderful things <3 (and writing her in the P&P AU with the The LBD Lydia as a blueprint, SO much fun.)

18. The character that gave you the most trouble writing this year? strangely enough, I'm gonna say Blair, even though the majority of what I share is her point of view. my girl just has such a twisted fucked up mind that....the conundrum of writing Blair is that I kind of know her better than she knows herself, so the question becomes what does she not know/what does she refuse to know and how do I show that with my writing? and I have no idea if I do it well, sometimes I read friends' fics and they have phds in blair waldorf and I'm like "oh fuck they showed that SO much better than I could" I think it's something that I can't think too hard about for me to be able to do it well, which of course is so annoying. oh sweet blair, dear child. being normal is not an option for her.

19. Favorite line/passage you wrote this year? HARD QUESTION. and like I have written so so much that it's hard to keep track of it all? I think this year more s o than the last it's like....once the fic is posted it completely leaves my brain. But I am gonna go with a scene from such a lot of world to see, in the Rome chapter, what I call the dair breakup post-mortem, it's the cathartic convo that has been building up for hundreds of thousands of words in this fic series, and I knew I wanted to do that way for a long time and I worked on each line in this scene for a long time, and then I sat on it and wrote a lot of the series around that scene, and I still am just really proud of it. And I could probably argue that that scene in chapter 2 is the entire reason I am even writing fic at all. I started writing to make this big post s5 fixit I had constructed in my head, and anything that's come out of me since is a direct or indirect result of that AU and people's magnificent responses to it. so. yeah.... anyways here's a tidbit of it for context:

“I told her that I wanted to write a sequel to Inside, but real this time.” He stares down at their hands, as if too ashamed to look at her, “Real names, real everything. It wasn’t satirical, it was a hit piece, and Georgina had enough dirt on people to make it happen.”

Blair feels a coldness sitting underneath her ribs. “Did you write it?”

Dan glances up at her, then looks back down just as quickly. “A lot of it, yeah.”

“But you didn’t finish it?”

He shakes his head. “I couldn’t.”

“Why?”

He takes a deep breath. “Jenny - she called me while I was here. I’d been avoiding everything, everyone, and she decided that she was sick of it and harassed me until I answered the phone.”

“Sounds like her.”

Dan’s jaw twitches. “She asked me about the book I was writing but...I was too embarrassed to tell her. That was kind of my sign.”

“You think she would judge you for it?”

He shakes his head. “I guess not, but just,” he sighs, “hearing her talk, it made me think of something else. Something she said to you, actually.”

Blair tilts her head in question.

“When she came back to interview at Parsons...she said something to you - and him - like, ‘you two used to be in love, and now you’re only hurting each other.’”

It’s only a matter of time before your mutual destruction. Blair remembers.

“And it reminded me that - however it ended - I really loved you,” he says, softly, but confidently, with conviction, “and I needed to honor that. For me, if not for us.”

[starlightkun]

❧ word count: 17.4k ❧ warnings: cursing ❧ genre: fluff, some mild angst, model jeno, journalist reader, reader is lowkey a bit of a jerk for some of it but for understandable reasons ❧ extra info: this is a reworked version of an old fic of mine that was about a former member. since i still really love the fic, i’ve made some (heavy) edits to re-release it about jeno instead. you can consider this the spiritual successor/an alternate universe to my sleepless cinderella series

You’d finally gone insane, you’d decided. Absolutely bonkers, completely crazy. After all, how else would you explain the fact that you were now kissing Jeno?

You felt absolutely pathetic. You were a journalist at a rather popular magazine, and your editor had finally entrusted you with a centerfold spot. So far, your word document for your article had less than a handful of words: your name. Writer’s block, and with only two months until copies were supposed to hit the shelves.

And so here you were, sitting on the small couch in your boss’ office, trying not to sound like you were whining to her. But you needed some sort of guidance. Ms. Zhang was sat on the other end of the couch from you, legs crossed, and round frames perched on the end of her nose as she thoughtfully listened to your rant.

Her voice was casual as she simply replied with, “Anything new in your life, Y/N?”

Which was a complete non-sequitur from your desperate plea for a subject. She really just wanted to make small talk while you were having an existential crisis?

Stunned, you blinked for a moment before answering, “Uh, not much. My roommate made me go out to this party a while ago.”

“That’s nice. Did you have fun?”

You were still completely unsure of why she wasn’t addressing your issue, but went along with it, nonetheless, “I guess.”

“Meet anyone?”

“Kind of. Seven someones, technically.”

“Oh?”

Realizing how that sounded, you grimaced to yourself before giving your boss an explanation of the actual situation. Your roommate NingNing had dragged you to the grand opening of a new nightclub, which she got an invite to thanks to her huge social media following. She was possibly the only actually down-to-Earth influencer you’d ever met—and you’d met plenty, thanks to her. The two of you had been friends since you were kids, before you entered into completely different lives as adults. You had a 9 to 5 while she was being paid insane amounts of money by luxury brands just to post a single photo of herself with their product.

The nightclub of course had a VIP section at the back, which NingNing was easily given access to, as well as you, her plus-one. It was there that you were introduced to Mark Lee, an up and coming young actor with a practically cult following online; Huang Renjun, an extremely popular video game streamer and YouTuber; Lee Jeno, an actual supermodel whose visage was across some of the biggest billboards in the city; Haechan, a pop star that you didn’t dare address by anything other than his stage name; Na Jaemin, another streamer and YouTuber who had recently been picked up for a modeling contract; Zhong Chenle, heir to the Zhong family fortune, whose family was involved in anything and everything to do with the entertainment industry and owned the nightclub; and Park Jisung, an influencer more in the same vein as NingNing, with millions of Instagram followers. Apparently, you had made a good enough impression that Chenle gave you your own pass to the VIP lounge—NingNing of course had her own, too.

At the end of your story, Ms. Zhang had a worryingly knowing smile across her lips, “You met seven celebrities in one night?”

“Do influencers and streamers really count as celebrities?”

“You met seven very popular men—three or four of whom are certifiable celebrities—in one night, have access to a private lounge they all frequent, and you still don’t have a subject for your article?”

Your jaw may have dropped slightly as you realized this. Immediately, your face turned hot as you refused the idea, “I don’t want to exploit them and make them uncomfortable somewhere that’s supposed to be free from that kind of stuff.”

She frowned as she shook her head, “I’m disappointed in you, Y/N. I thought you understood that journalism isn’t inherently exploitative.”

“I’m sorry, I know it’s not—”

“Are you going to publish horrible rumors and tabloid things with private information they don’t want to be out there? Is that what we do here?”

“No, but they’re all going to think that’s what I’ll do.”

“Show them those assumptions are wrong. It’s all in the way you carry yourself. If you are honest and humble and make them feel comfortable, they should have no reason to doubt what kind of journalist you are.”

At this point, you felt like melting into the pinstriped couch cushions in shame. You shouldn’t have doubted your boss’ vision for her magazine or demeaned your own career. And now you’d made Ms. Zhang disappointed in you. You would’ve preferred her to have yelled at you.

All that was left was to make her proud.

Three days later and you still hadn’t returned to the lounge.

Honestly, you were just being a chicken. And a procrastinator. A procrastinating chicken.

Slumped into your armchair in your living room, you blankly zoned off into the distance as you listened to your playlist through an earbud. NingNing was perched on your kitchen table, feet swinging off the side as she edited some photos on her phone.

As she tapped away, you found your gaze fixating on the visage on the cover of a magazine that had been resting on your coffee table. Squinting your eyes curiously and tilting your head to the side, you asked, “He kind of looks like a dog, right?”

“Who?” Your roommate raised a concerned eyebrow as she peered over her phone screen at you.

“Lee Jeno.” You held up the magazine. “He kind of looks like a dog. Right?”

Your friend squinted at the cover then gave you that same look, “No, he doesn’t. Y/N, I think the sleep deprivation has finally gotten to you. You’re delirious.”

“No, I swear, he looks like a dog,” you insisted, pulling your earbud out to be able to better argue your point. “A very specific kind of dog, God, it’s on the tip of my tongue.”

“He doesn’t.”

You crossed your arms. “I bet the others would agree with me.”

“You want to go ask them?” She challenged. “Jisung texted me saying they were all going to be there again tonight.”

“If that’s what’ll convince you.”

“I have been begging you to go back for weeks, and now you’ve agreed to go back to ask them if they agree that Jeno looks like a dog?” NingNing scoffed incredulously.

“Yeah.”

“Alright, fine, you weirdo. Be ready to leave at midnight.”

When you arrived at the club, you immediately felt out of place again. You clung onto NingNing’s arm tightly as she confidently led the way through the crowd to the VIP lounge. She flashed a smile and her VIP pass to the bouncer outside the room, who nodded and stepped aside. As soon as the two of you entered the small room that consisted of one large rounded booth, you immediately regretted your decision. When NingNing said that everyone would be there, your brain hadn’t pieced together that ‘everyone’ included Lee Jeno, who perked up with interest as the two of you walked in.

Jeno eyed you curiously, an eyebrow raised, “So you came back.”

“Y/N has something really important to ask you guys,” NingNing announced, gesturing to you pointedly.

You felt like a deer in the headlights as all of them turned to look at you. Swallowing thickly, you avoided looking at Jeno as you tried to think of anything else to say.

“Sit down, let’s get you a drink first,” Jaemin kindly saved you, gesturing to the open space at the end of the booth seat.

NingNing sat down next to Mark, who had previously been at the end, and you scooted in after her. The circular table unfortunately made it so that you were looking directly at Jeno, who you couldn’t help but sneak glances at as your brain still stubbornly tried to remember what breed of dog he reminded you of. Another round was brought out for everyone, and you gratefully started sipping on yours.

It was when he smiled up at the waiter as he was handed his drink that it finally hit you. You had to bite down on your lip not to cry out in victory.

Chenle looked at you over his sunglasses—yes he was wearing sunglasses indoors at night, as he had been last time. He asked, “So what is this really important thing you have to ask us?”

You looked at NingNing desperately, but she just gave you a deliberate nod.

“Come on, Y/N, it’ll be fine.”

With a gulp, you gathered your courage to just fucking say it and get it over with. You still wanted to be right. “Okay, think about it really hard before you answer.”

They all nodded in assent, anticipating your question.

Taking a deep breath, you finally asked, “Doesn’t Jeno kind of look like a Samoyed?”

A couple of them seemed concerned for your mental state. The rest pondered your question whole-heartedly, brows furrowed as they studied the model. Jeno had a look of pure bewilderment on his face.

Finally, Haechan gasped, “Oh my God you’re right.”

“Thank you!” You sighed victoriously, looking over at NingNing smugly.

Jisung fervently searched something on his phone, eyes widening in shock, “Now that you’ve said that I can’t unsee it.”

“What? Let me see.” Chenle yanked the phone out of Jisung’s hand, holding a picture of a fluffy white Samoyed up to Jeno’s face.

The model tilted his head to the side in confusion, perfectly mimicking the picture on-screen. Chenle burst into loud, cackling laughter.

“Shit, he-he does!” Renjun declared between his own laughs.

Murmurs of agreement erupted around the table, and you were now fully vindicated. “Thank you! Thank you! NingNing didn’t agree with me so I had to come and—”

“No, I did,” she snickered. “It was just the only way to get you to come back. You’re a whole different person when you think you’re right.”

You tried to glare at her, but you were much too ecstatic at being proven right to really be all that mad.

Jeno looked about to open his mouth as Chenle giggled incessantly and started swiping through more search results of Samoyed pictures. A horrible sense of dread covered you like scalding candle wax. It was hot against your skin, thick, and you felt like you couldn’t move or breathe. You prayed to every deity you could think of that Jeno had a really good sense of humor and wouldn’t take offense to someone he had met twice saying he looked like a dog.

When Jeno’s gaze finally focused on you, you swore you had never wished to turn invisible more in your life than in that moment. Or make time stop. Or wake up and realize it was a dream. Anything to get you out of this situation. But you were absolutely petrified, all excitement from before completely eradicated from your being.

Then suddenly all tension was gone from the air as his eyes crinkled into crescents and his mouth parted wide to let out hearty guffaws.

You looked around in alarm, waiting for the hidden camera to be revealed or something. This couldn’t be real.

He managed to contain his laughter enough to choke out between chuckles, “That’s— that's really, really funny.”

Your wide eyes were focused incredulously on him as he caught his breath. Still with a grin on his face, he continued, “Oh my god, seriously that was fucking funny. I’m a cute Samoyed, right, Y/N?”

Utterly speechless. That’s what you were. And also staring at him, completely dumbfounded.

“I think you broke her, Jeno,” Renjun snickered, reaching a fist out as if he were about to knock on your forehead like a front door.

Instinctually, you smacked his hand away from your head, a scowl overtaking your features, “I’m fine, Renjun.”

“Then why can’t you look him in the eye?”

You pointed to yourself, “Normal person—” then to Jeno, “supermodel. I’m still not used to that.”

But Renjun was right, you couldn’t look Jeno in the eye, and your whole body was practically on fire. Honestly, how were you supposed to react to this situation? With grace and comfort? No way.

“What? Seriously?” Jeno scoffed, standing up from the booth to pointedly sit on your side of it. Directly next to you.

“I’m not that— Y/N, really? You’re actually scooting away from me?”

You hadn’t even realized that you’d shifted the opposite direction from him, pressed into NingNing’s side. Meanwhile, the others were all finding this spectacle absolutely hilarious, sharing annoying snickers and giggles.

Your face was burning, and despite your satisfaction at being vindicated, you were now regretting coming to the club at all.

“Can you guys stop? You don’t have to be so annoying,” Jeno scolded his friends, much to both yours and their surprise.

Haechan had a look of mild offense and disbelief across his face, “Being annoying comes as natural to us as being ridiculously attractive comes to you.”

“Speak for yourself!” Jaemin slapped Haechan’s arm as Chenle was practically howling with laughter.

While they were distracted among themselves, Jeno’s attention was focused back on you. If you could look him in the eye, you’d be able to appreciate the genuine concern held within them. But you couldn’t, so all you could do was hear the genuine concern in his voice as he said quietly, “Sorry about them.”

“You don’t need to apologize for them,” you reassured him, messing with your fingernails.

“Anyway, I can’t stand having you be terrified of me.”

“I’ll get over it,” you cleared the audible squeak out of your throat, “eventually.”

“Eventually...” Jeno didn’t seem satisfied with that qualifier you added at the end. “Are you busy today?”

“Uhm— I don’t know. Why?”

“We should hang out.”

“What?”

“The more you’re around me, the less scary I’m going to be to you. Right?”

“I guess.”

“Then we should start right now.”

Your throat nearly closed up at this suggestion. Especially because you realized that the room was dead silent. The others had ceased their squabbling and side conversations and were awaiting your response to this too.

So you did the thing that came most naturally to you: procrastinated the issue.

“Oh, well, it’s already after midnight—”

“Then tomorrow.”

“I’m going to be super busy for a while, I just got a really big assignment at work—”

“What do you do for work?”

“I’m a journalist. Just got centerfold and it’s going to make or break my whole career so it’s going to take up all of my time for the foreseeable future, so...”

Jeno was unfazed, “What’s the topic?”

“I-uh it’s...” you couldn’t even bullshit an answer at this point, your stupid tongue tripping over itself. “I don’t have one yet.”

NingNing just had to offer up her opinion right then, “Do it on Jeno!”

If you were a lesser person, you'd have strangled NingNing in that moment, because the model’s features lit up. He clearly liked this idea.

“Yeah! I would love to. If it’ll fit your guidelines or whatever, of course.”

You sighed, “It does...”

The socially anxious part of you absolutely hated this idea. But, the journalist part of you knew it was too good of an opportunity to pass up. Gritting your teeth, you managed to look Lee Jeno dead in the eye and say, “I would love to interview you, Jeno. Thank you.”

“Uhm, Jeno?” Jisung speaking up stopped the wide grin that was spreading across his friend’s face. “Aren’t you like, banned from interviews or something?”

“Technically,” Jeno answered dismissively, not breaking eye contact with you.

“Technically?” You echoed in confusion. Were you just being messed with?

“Something… happened with the last in-depth interview I did a while ago,” he admitted sheepishly. “But! I’ll talk to my manager and get it cleared, I promise, Y/N!”

[jeno: manager han gave the okay for the interview! when can we get started?]

Your stomach contorted itself at the message that just popped up on your phone screen. Last night you’d left the lounge with a growing sense of dread and anxiety. And Jeno’s phone number.

[jeno: i have a fitting this afternoon but i'll be done in time to get dinner]

[jeno: if that works for you, of course]

[jeno: we can always start it another day, whatever is good for you!]

[jeno: do you want me to send you my schedule for the next few weeks to make it easier for us to get together?]

Your phone’s continuous buzzing with enthusiastic and sincerely kind messages from him caught the attention of NingNing, whose feet were currently resting on your lap as you shared your couch together.

“When did you get so popular?” She questioned teasingly, peering at you over her own phone screen.

“It's just one person,” you informed her.

“Who texts you that much in a row other than me?”

“Lee Jeno, apparently.”

“Y/N, you seem very unenthusiastic about this,” she declared with a thoughtful frown, completely abandoning her phone. “Isn’t this a really big break for you?”

“I’m still a little shocked,” you admitted. “And scared.”

She shoved you with her foot. “Well at least text him back.”

“Right.”

Not a great idea to leave him on read.

[you: a copy of your schedule would be great]

[you: and yes, i can do dinner tonight]

It was less than a minute later that he replied.

[jeno: here’s my schedule]

[jeno: attached image]

[jeno: and could you give me your address so i can drive you to dinner tonight? the place i have in mind is kind of hard to find if you haven’t been before]

A lot was happening right now. Too much for you to process. Good thing there was another brain in this room to help you process it.

“Hey, NingNIng?” You got her attention before thrusting your phone screen towards her so she could read the texts.

“Uh, three options here.” She pointed to a new finger for each one as she listed them off: “He’s ridiculously excited about this interview; he likes you; or he’s going to kill you.”

“So far the last one seems most likely.”

With a shake of your head, you sent him your address.

Your fingers anxiously tapped along your bouncing knee as you waited on your couch for the text from Jeno that he was here. He told you that the restaurant was just casual, but you weren’t sure that a model’s idea of casual wear was the same as yours.

Jeez, what were you doing? Getting dinner with and interviewing one of the most well-known models in the country? You were so out of your depth here.

A buzz came from your other hand that was tightly gripping your phone. An incoming call from Jeno. Maybe he was calling to cancel, and you could just keep rescheduling until you both gave up on the whole idea and you never showed your face in that VIP lounge again.

Answering it, your voice squeaked as you attempted to give him a casual, “Hello.”

“Hey, Y/N!” The bright voice of Lee Jeno came through your speakers. “I’m just parking now, I’ll be up in a couple minutes.”

“You don’t have to come up!” You told him a little too forcefully and quickly. Having Lee Jeno in your apartment would just be too much.

“I don’t mind—”

You leapt up from your couch and rushed towards your door, “Too late, I’m already on my way down.”

With a sharp hit of your thumb, you hung up. Pressing the down button on the elevator impatiently, you prayed that Jeno would just give up and wait in his car.

He didn’t.

The elevator doors opened to the lobby, with Jeno right outside them. In fact, you nearly slammed right into his chest, but thankfully he took a step back before you could actually collide.

His ‘woah!’ was muffled slightly by the dark face mask over his mouth, accompanying dark baseball somewhat successfully obscuring his identity. As long as you didn’t look too closely, he could be any other guy.

“I told you I’d just come down on my own.” You shook your head at him, eyes trained on your shoes.

“And I told you that I’d come up and get you,” he shot back smugly. “Seems like neither of us listen very well.”

With no response coming from you, Jeno took your silence as the cue to lead the way out to his car. It was nice, nicer than most cars you’d seen around, but surprisingly not that ostentatious. It looked like something a moderately successful businessman would drive, not an A-list model.

Inside was a comfortable leather interior, and you took quick, short notes on the small notepad you kept with you as you looked around. After all, this was an interview, and you had an article to write. You could get over your own social awkwardness and feelings of inferiority for the sake of your future career.

Hopefully.

The restaurant Jeno had chosen was definitely out-of-the way.

It was down one back alley into another, through the back of an electronics shop, up a flight of stairs, then through a room of old ladies sat at sewing machines. They all gave a friendly chorus of hellos to the two of you, seeming to know Jeno pretty well as they all told him that he’d grown since the last time he’d come by. He bowed to them bashfully as he led you through. Past the curtains on the far wall, you finally ended up at the restaurant.

Okay, out-of-the-way was an understatement.

But despite the hard-to-stumble-upon location of the restaurant, it seemed busy. The small room was tightly packed with tables that you could barely see through the mass of people seated around them and plates of food resting atop them. A loud buzz of various conversations mixed in with the bumping of plates and clattering of utensils.

Just past the entrance was a small host’s stand where a young boy stood. He looked to not be out of high school yet, presumably a young relative of the owners: their son, nephew, or grandson.

He also knew Jeno, bowing to him, “Ah, Mr. Lee. We have your reservation for you. Come.”

Jeno bowed back and looked to make sure that you were still following the two of them through the nearly claustrophobic environment.

You were, eyes drinking in every detail as your hand furiously scribbled them down on your notepad, muscle memory functioning at full speed to write every letter without looking away from the scene around you. There was one more curtain for you to go through, and it was much quieter on the other side. This was most likely a VIP section of sorts, with just a couple tables separated by a divider.

The host gestured to one of the two tables, and you gratefully sat down across from Jeno. He then took his hat and mask off, fingers working through his hair for a moment to rid it of the hat’s aftereffects.

“Thank you, Yeonwoo,” he thanked the host, which you repeated as well.

The boy, who you now knew to be named Yeonwoo, bowed politely to the both of you before scurrying off.

“You must come here often,” you commented, hand poised to write his response.

“My family and I came here a lot when I was younger. Since I started my career it’s been difficult to eat here as often as I did before. Especially because their food isn’t technically allowed in my diet,” he had a mischievous glint in his eye as then he added, “But you won’t tell on me, right?”

“Of course not, unless writing an article about you that will be published in a magazine counts as tattling,” you snorted, much to his delight.

He laughed, “Right, right. That’s pretty much the ultimate form of tattling, huh?”

“If it gets published, yeah. If not, then the only people who will know will be you, me, and my editor. And I suppose Yeonwoo and our server, as well.”

“Speaking of our server, there she is!” Jeno announced, making the young girl who was approaching your table blush behind her notepad. She was probably around Yeonwoo’s age, maybe a little older.

“Good evening,” she greeted the two of you politely. “My name is Jieun, I’ll be your server tonight. Are you ready to order?”

You were a bit confused by her question, you hadn’t been given any menus yet. But Jeno seemed completely unfazed.

“Two orders of my regular, please,” he requested sweetly, which she quickly scribbled down on her pad.

“Of course, it’ll be out soon,” she informed you before hurrying away.

He turned back to you, “Jieun is Yeonwoo’s older cousin, their grandparents own the restaurant.”

You added this to your notes as well. It could be nice to add in to set the scene and show how down-to-Earth Jeno was, knowing this family as well as his own and not forgetting his roots even as a big model. Or something like that, you’d figure it out eventually.

“So, interview questions?” He prompted you, bringing you out of your contemplative planning ahead. You’d write that up later.

“Earlier you had mentioned your family, tell me a bit about them. Brothers, sisters?”

Could you have looked that information up online and found it? Definitely, but you wanted it from the source, to see if he would provide you with anything that wasn’t already out there. And you wanted to get a feel of your subject.

“Well there’s my parents, my older sister, and me. They’re not famous or anything. My parents own a grocery store nearby, and my sister’s a teacher.”

“You took my next question right out of my mouth,” you clicked your tongue in teasing disappointment, continuing on with a different one. “You said you used to come here often with your family, what are some other things you miss from your childhood that you don’t do as often?”

Jeno’s face easily betrayed his delighted surprise, “Oh, I wasn’t expecting that one.”

“Hm?”

“That’s a good question. Normally I get asked about celebrity crushes or my ideal type.”

You tilted your head to the side curiously, “If you thought that I was just going to ask you the same questions you usually get asked, why did you offer for me to interview you?”

“Never mind, never mind, sorry.” He coughed awkwardly, then quickly went to get off that topic, “Uh, it might sound kind of weird, but I used to help out at my parents’ store a lot as a kid. It was my first job I ever had. As soon as I could reach the register on a high stool, they put me to work. It’s actually how I got scouted, for modeling. My manager now just happened to come through my line while I was on the register and gave me his card. I thought it was a scam, honestly. But Jaemin made me give him a call, and he turned out to be legit. Even if I had the time to help at the store now, I’d just be too much of a distraction if I tried. And trust me, I tried. Once. So yeah, I miss helping out there.”

The desire for an answer to your other question was still there, but it was a path that you didn’t want to go down right now. Right now was time for the interview. So you simply scratched down his statement about his parents’ shop, then shorthanded off to the side ‘why me?’ as you readied your next question.

“You knew Jaemin before you guys were famous?”

“Yeah, we’ve been friends forever.” A fond smile crossed Jeno’s face. “Seatmates since primary school. He blew up with streaming first before I got my break as a model, actually. Most people usually assume it’s the other way around.”

“And what about the others?”

As Jeno eagerly answered your questions and you filled up page after page on your notepad, there was still that one lingering in the back of your mind.

Why you?

Over the course of a couple weeks, you’d spent a considerable amount of time with Jeno. According to his schedule that he had sent you, every free moment he got was taken up by your interview. Sometimes it would be more formal, like your first dinner meeting, and sometimes it was more casual, get-togethers in the lounge with the other VIP members or a riverside walk that felt more like two friends talking than a professional interview. And it all went in your notes, it would all go in your article. This was going to be a great article. The real Lee Jeno when he’s relaxed, what he’s like off the runway.

Today was very special, however, as you’d been invited to tag along to one of his photoshoots. You were just outside the building housed at the address you’d been given when you were met by a young man whose stern gaze never left you. It seemed as if he had been waiting for you.

“Are you the journalist?” He asked with a raised eyebrow, completely skipping any greetings.

“Ah yes, Y/L/N Y/N,” you confirmed, nodding your head respectfully to him as you held out your VIP lounge card as proof. Jeno told you that would be your pass to get in.

The man only scrutinized the card for a moment before he pivoted on his heel, “Follow me.”

You kept his hurried pace easily, ready to ask him questions as well, “So what’s your job here?”

He took a moment to push open a door that then nearly closed on you before answering, “I’m Lee Jeno’s PA.”

“Oh, Song Eunseok!” The name easily came to your mind.

The PA’s eyes widened in surprise, “Jeno’s brought me up?”

“Of course he has! You’re with him pretty much all the time, how could he not mention you?” You flipped through your notebook to where you’d taken previous notes about him, “Here, I asked him to walk me through his typical day, and he mentioned ‘Seokkie’ like seven times.”

Eunseok physically grimaced at this, “I’ve requested that he not call me that.”

“Why? I think it’s a cute nickname.”

“Really?” His eyes were now trained on his shoes as opposed to his previous laser focus on the end of the hallway. Your eyes could’ve been playing tricks on you, but you swore the tips of his ears were tinged pink, too.

There was another door, and this time you definitely couldn’t miss the fact that he held it open for you this time.

“Really,” you echoed.

The door had led to what you could really only imagine to be the set. Huge lightboxes, a couple cameras, and a multitude of people all set up with a single black sheet as the focal point. A white loveseat contrasted it starkly, but that wasn’t where your eyes were drawn. They were drawn to the man seated elegantly atop it, dressed head-to-toe like the playboy prince of a small but filthy rich country. Lee Jeno.

“You can wait for him over here with me,” Eunseok tapped your elbow with a feather-light touch, snapping you from your near-trance.

“Thanks.” You walked with him towards a table lined with various food and drink.

Your focus was still on the PA as he got a bottle of water, opened it, took a lemon slice from a small bowl and squeezed it into the drink before plopping a blue straw in as well. Then didn’t drink it. Instead, he turned back to you and held it in his hand patiently.

“The straw disturbs the makeup as little as possible,” Eunseok explained to you, and it was then that you realized it wasn’t for him, it was for Jeno. “Makes the makeup artists’ lives a little bit easier.”

“That’s very considerate. I wouldn’t have even thought of that,” you commented, taking note of that process as your focus returned back to Jeno and the photoshoot.

Knowing that your next question might be considered disrespectful, you leaned closer to Eunseok to whisper, “So who’s the photographer?”

He understood your delicacy, replying back equally quiet, “Chen Man, she’s brilliant. Jeno’s worked with her in the past, but this is his first solo shoot with her. It’s for the new YSL campaign that he was chosen to be the face of.”

And you were rocketed back to the fact that Lee Jeno was a famous model. Obviously, you hadn’t really forgotten it, but in your casual meetings and interviewing outside of his work, the magnitude of it was lessened. But a PA, giant photoshoot, famous photographer, and being selected as the new face of a campaign for a huge designer really hammered in the famous model part.

“Wow.”

It was just then that Chen Man called for a short break, and the silent studio was immediately filled with chatter. Jeno made a beeline for you and Eunseok, his normal contagious grin across his face, “Hey, Y/N! I’m glad you made it here okay.”

Up close, you could appreciate the detail and regality of his outfit. It was made of crushed velvet of a deep cerulean color; various intricate medals flashing on his chest; dark epaulettes making his already broad shoulders even more imposing; large black boots; and silver jewelry and chains glinting on his fingers and neck.

Eunseok offered the water out to Jeno then, and he accepted it gratefully, “Thanks, Eunseok.”

You continued from the model’s earlier statement, “Yeah, Eunseok made sure I got to the right place.”

“Good, I sent him out there to get you.” He turned on his PA, “You didn’t give Y/N a hard time, did you?”

“My job is to make sure none of your insane fans somehow get in here,” the other man scoffed.

“So you did give her a hard time.”

Eunseok rolled his eyes at Jeno’s teasing words. Despite knowing that they were employer-employee, it felt much more like two friends to you. You added that to your notes.

Jeno took a couple big sips of his water, and you took this time to ask him a couple of questions.

“So Eunseok was saying that this shoot is for the new YSL campaign that you’re the face of. Have you ever done something like this before?”

He blinked at you a couple times before actually replying, “Yeah, it’s really an honor and a big opportunity to be chosen for this. I’ve done solo shoots before, but not ones of this magnitude.”

Another figure approached your small group, a makeup artist. Jeno handed his water back to Eunseok before leading the way a little further away to sit in a chair. As the makeup artist attended to his makeup, you continued with the interview.

“How familiar are you with the photographer on this shoot?”

“I’ve worked with Chen Man a few times before—” he paused to let the makeup artist apply his lip color again. After she was done, he continued, “Her ideas are incredible and she’s honestly so wonderful to work with. However, all those other times I was with other models, so doing a solo photoshoot with her is a bit nerve-wracking. She’s the kind of person that you really want to make proud, you know?”

Thinking of Ms. Zhang and her disappointment in you earlier, you nodded, “Yeah, I know.”

There was a call for everyone to start getting back into their places, and you took this as your cue to leave Jeno alone. He had work to do.

The makeup artist did one touch up on his face before letting him up out of the chair, another person coming to his side to fix his hair up just the way they wanted it, walking alongside him awkwardly to do so.

“Take a bunch of notes on your little notepad, Y/N!” Jeno quipped as he walked back in front of the camera.

“Will do!” You affirmed, holding your notebook above your head and shaking it slightly so he could see it.

Returning to your previous spot off to the side with Eunseok, you had a fond smile on your lips from your short interaction with Jeno. Eunseok had a little smirk of his own as he gazed at you.

“And what’s that smile for?” You questioned, head tilted.

“Nothing.”

You elbowed him with a short giggle, “Come on, tell me.”

“No,” he shook his head, that same smile on his lips.

Even as you rolled your eyes, your focus never faltered from Eunseok. You changed tactics, a slight pout on your face as you asked again, “Please, Seokkie?”

Finally, he relented, “You’re pretty special, Y/N.”

“What?” You questioned in pleasant surprise.

“For Manager Han to have approved this interview after what happened last time, Jeno probably begged.”

“I can't imagine what would be so special about me.”

Eunseok had a brightness to his features that you hadn’t seen yet as he replied, “I can.”

You raised an eyebrow, “And what is it?”

Shouts from the set took both your attentions away from each other. Chen Man had been calling directions out during the whole shoot, but never with such aggression as then.

“Jeno! Lee Jeno!”

You scanned the scene in front of you as you tried to figure out what exactly was happening. Jeno’s arms were crossed across his chest, a startlingly stern but calm gaze focused on… you?

“Jeno can you—ugh, fifteen-minute break, everybody!” She yelled out in exasperation, the rest of the crew breaking the silence, scattering from the set.

Chen Man continued addressing her model, “Jeno, your expressions… they’re off.”

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll work on them.”

Despite acknowledging her words, you were doubtful of if he had actually registered them, stalking off the set with seemingly one destination in mind.

“Y/N,” Jeno stopped right by you and Eunseok. “Can I speak with you for a second?”

“Of course,” you nodded, well aware of how the crew was only pretending to be busy, instead actually focused on the three of you.

Your subject took off again, and you guessed that he anticipated that you’d follow him. Which you did. Eunseok stayed behind.

His longer legs made it a little hard to keep up with him as he took twists and turns down hallways of the building.

“Jeno,” you breathed out, seeming to finally snap him out of whatever mood he had been in.

Immediately, he slowed down to your pace, a faint smile coming to his lips, “Sorry, long legs.”

“Where are we going?”

He abruptly stopped, “Here is fine.”

It was the middle of some random hallway. He apparently didn’t have an actual destination in mind, more-so a distance.

“So what do you need to talk to me about?” You questioned, pencil and notepad at the ready. It had to be something for the interview, it couldn’t possibly be anything else.

“Y/N…” Jeno reached his hands out to cover yours, gently lowering the pencil and notepad for you. His hands were big and warm on yours, and you felt nerves flare up at his clear insinuation that this wasn’t for the interview.

“Jeno…” you said back with a nervous half-giggle. He was still holding your hands.

“This isn’t part of the interview. I’m not interviewee Jeno, and you’re not interviewer Y/N right now.”

“Okay…”

As soon as you had accepted these terms, he released his feather-light hold on your hands and took his own back to wring them nervously. What could Lee Jeno possibly be nervous about?

“Hm, I’ve never done this before,” he chuckled, pressing a palm to the center of his chest.

“Done what?”

“Okay, I’m just going to be upfront. Uh, I think you’re super great, and pretty, and awesome and I’d really like to be able to take you out on a date some time.”

This had to be a fucking joke. No way that someone who looks like him, an actual model, someone who gets paid for being ridiculously attractive, could actually be asking you out. This had to be a sick, terrible, horrible joke he was playing on you.

And yet as his big brown eyes gazed at you, wide and hopeful, looking a lot like a puppy waiting to be adopted from some animal shelter, you knew that he was being genuine.

And you panicked.

Stuttering for a moment, you finally choked out the most formal and emotionally removed response you could’ve come up with, “I’m sorry, I—that wouldn’t be appropriate, since I’m interviewing you right now. A bias or conflict of interest would damage the integrity of my piece as well as my career.”

Surprisingly, his features didn’t seem as crestfallen as you anticipated, his expressions were always so easy to read. He, in fact, seemed very happy with your reply.

“I get it,” he beamed at you, giving your hand a reassuring squeeze for a moment before letting it go. “After the article, then.”

That wasn’t what you meant. At all. But between your own burning cheeks and internal state of panic, you couldn’t express this to him. Or even really process your own thoughts right then.

“We should head back, Eunseok will come looking for us soon,” Jeno nodded with his head back in the general direction that you two had come from.

He kept a polite distance from you, allowing some of the panic alarms blaring in your mind to quiet just a bit. You tried to brainstorm ways you could possibly keep this interview going forever. Ways to give you as much time as possible. To do what, exactly? Maybe come up with an actual way of rejecting him. Or maybe give him enough time to change his romantic focus to someone else, so that he would never end up revisiting this subject after the interview.

You could dream.

“Oh my god!” NingNing exclaimed. “Are you shitting me?!”

You’d just recalled your day to your roommate, finally ending at the part where Jeno had asked you on a date. She had literally done a spit-take back into her soda as she smacked your leg in excitement.

Despite still being in disbelief yourself, Jeno had been extremely up-front and clear about it. No room for misinterpretation. Unlike your response to him.

“Well when’s the date?” NingNing squealed, pressing for more information.

“I said no,” you deadpanned.

“What?”

“Well, kind of.”

At the clear grimace on your face, your friend sighed, “Y/N, what did you tell him? Verbatim.”

“I told him that it would be inappropriate right now because a bias or conflict of interest would ruin the integrity of my piece and any career opportunity that came out of it,” you repeated your statement from earlier almost word-for-word, sure that it would be burned into your memory for the rest of your life.

“You do know that he now definitely thinks that you were telling him to just wait until after the article is over, right?”

“Yeah, that’s what I was afraid of,” you groaned, dropping your head into your hands and rubbing your face in exasperation.

“You don’t want to go on a date with Jeno?”

“I don’t want to date Lee Jeno,” you confirmed, nodding the head that you were still holding.

“Let me just review the situation here: you’ve got a very sweet, very funny, very hot guy that’s into you. What’s the problem?”

“He’s hot.”

Finally, you’d found it. The real reason you’d said no, the real reason you had a deep pit of dread in your stomach as soon as the words had left Jeno’s mouth hours earlier.

She snorted, “That’s a problem?”

“His entire career is based off being hot, he’s a model,” you explained rather desperately, relieved to finally be able to put your tumultuous thoughts into proper words. “I can’t deal with all that shit that comes with it. I just can’t.”

“So you’ll never want to date him? You’re not going to change your mind?”

“No, never. I couldn’t.”

“Never say never,” NingNing taunted with a sing-song voice, but at your eye-roll, became more serious. “Okay, let’s just say you’ll never date Jeno in your life—despite the fact that nothing is ever definite—you shouldn’t lead him on. Intentional or otherwise. Don’t let him spend the next few weeks thinking that you two are going to date after the article’s over.”

The anxiety was still there, however. “What if he doesn’t actually think that and I just misunderstood him? What if he just naturally gets over me in the next few weeks and doesn’t need me to confront him about this and straight-up reject him? He’s probably never been rejected in his life, what if he doesn’t take it well? What—”

She cut your endless strings of ‘what if’s short, “Y/N, didn’t he say that he’d never done this before?”

Realization hit you straight to the gut. “What if me rejecting him makes him never want to ask anybody else out again for the rest of his life and I scar him permanently?”

Your roommate had a clear look of ‘yikes’ on her face, and pure mortification ran through every inch of you.

“Never mind, there’s no way I could ever have such an impact on Lee Jeno’s life, that’s fucking ridiculous. I’m just some normal person, some journalist, and he’s literally a supermodel. No way this would actually matter to someone like that.”

“Y/N, don’t say stuff like that,” NingNing frowned, pulling some hair away from your face gently. “You matter to me, remember? You’re my best friend.”

Completely ignoring her, you continued, “I just have to be upfront with him, tell him I don’t want to go on a date with him, and be done with it. He’ll probably never think about it again for the rest of his life.”

She let out a sigh as if she were going to say something but thought better of it. You didn’t press her; your mind had been made up.

You couldn’t do it.

The next time you saw Jeno, you had every intention of being upfront. But you couldn’t bring yourself to do it. You were an absolute coward. Some part of you didn’t want to tell him, for whatever reason.

Maybe because the way his face absolutely lit up when he saw you was something you’d never seen anybody do for you before. Maybe because he asked you how your day was and didn’t look disinterested in your answer. Maybe because no matter how hard you tried to tell yourself that this was a professional interview, he made you feel so at ease that you somehow talked more about yourself than him.

Maybe because you did kind of want to date him.

Your notebook had been completely abandoned about fifteen minutes into your ‘lunch meeting,’ a fact that went mostly unnoticed by you. Until the waiter came with the bill and you had to move it out of the way for him to set it on the tabletop. You’d written just a couple short notes, nothing substantial. That wasn’t an interview, you couldn’t even try to bullshit it to yourself. That was a date-but-not-a-date. And you enjoyed yourself.

As you contemplated over your mostly-blank page, Jeno had already tucked his own card into the pouch and waved the waiter back over. Before you could argue him paying for you, the waiter was halfway across the restaurant.

“Jeno, I can pay for my own food,” you reminded him gently, feeling very much like you were scolding an over-excited puppy that had accidentally knocked over a potted plant in its haste to greet you.

“And I can pay for both of ours,” he countered.

You held his gaze firmly, waiting for him to— there it was.

His mouth split into a sheepish grin as he held up his hands in surrender, “Alright, I get it, I get it. Interview time right now. We’ll split the check for now.”

For now.

Maybe you liked the idea of that.

“Except this one, since they already ran my card,” Jeno added, a victorious smirk on his face, one that had you shaking your head fondly.

“Can I at least tip?”

“Already added that on the receipt.”

“How dare you be so thoughtful and respectful.”

He seemed about ready to quip something back when a distant chorus of squeals cut him off. You took a cursory glance around, eyes landing on a group of teenage girls standing just outside the window that you were seated by. They weren’t uncomfortably close, but it was clear what had made them so excited.

Jeno ducked his head shyly as he raised a hand to acknowledge them, only setting their nervous titters off again. Maybe he should have left his mask and hat on, or not chosen a table by the window.

And your heart dropped as you were once again reminded of who exactly the man in front of you was. Not just some cute guy named Lee Jeno, but a model who was known internationally, with fans who would recognize him out and about, with a career and life that was under the public gaze constantly.

You couldn’t do that. You couldn’t subject yourself to that. It would be too much for you.

With the girls still watching the two of you, you collected your notepad and stood up, stiffly bowing to him. “Thank you for allowing me to interview you, Mr. Lee.”

Thankfully, he took your lead, standing and returning your bow, “Of course, thank you as well, Ms. Y/L/N.”

Hopefully the girls got the message that this was business and nothing else. A dating rumor with Lee Jeno was absolutely the one thing you did not need in your life. Lee Jeno was absolutely the one thing you did not need in your life.

The light hum that had been in Ms. Zhang’s throat through most of her reading of your article suddenly changed tone as she came to the ending. Her brow furrowed thoughtfully, and your mind was running wild with nerves as you waited for her to speak.

“It’s good, Y/N,” she started.

You sensed a ‘but’ coming next.

“But… in the very first paragraph you introduce him as model by day, and explorer by night, or something to that effect.”

“Yes, that’s how he and his friends introduced him.”

“But you never bring up his ‘exploring’ again. This is about his life as a model and what he’s like outside of modelling here. You hooked me on the exploring part, but left me ultimately unsatisfied with that point.”

She was right. She was absolutely right. In your own personal whirlwind of confusion about your emotions and wants, you’d left a loose end in your article.

Ms. Zhang continued, her tone rising, “But…”

Oh, another ‘but.’

“This might just be perfect for a sequel. We publish this and advertise it as a two-part look into him, the first part his model by day, and the second part all about him as an explorer.”

You were caught off-guard, “You want to publish it?”

You had honestly expected her to throw it in the trash and fire you. You’d been so all over the place the entire time you’d been working on the article, you didn’t think it was anywhere close to your best work.

“Of course, this is the most hard-hitting and real piece that’s ever been done about the man! Most of it is tabloid nonsense. Not to mention that this is the first interview he’s done in over a year, it’s fresh content. It’s perfect, Y/N.”

Ms. Zhang just called your article perfect. You were on Cloud Nine, barely listening as she continued.

“Do you think you’ll be able to get a second interview with him? Maybe even tag along on one of his exploring trips or something, like how you went to one of his photoshoots in this one?”

That snapped you back into reality. Going on a trip with Jeno? That sounded dicey. But… also a chance to extend the interview, prolong the inevitable: his expectation that you’ll start dating after the interview. Your worst fear.

Avoiding an uncomfortable scenario and making your career out of it? It was an opportunity you couldn’t pass up.

“Of course, Ms. Zhang.”

Right as you walked into the VIP lounge, you were met with the expectant face of Jeno. You’d agreed to meet him there on your lunch break, right after your morning meeting with Ms. Zhang, to let him know if she was going to move forward with publishing your article or not. It felt a bit weird being at a nightclub in the middle of the day in your work clothes, but it was one of the more private places to meet with him.

“So?” He asked hopefully. “How’d it go?”

“She’s going to publish it,” you breathed out, still in shock yourself.

Two strong arms were suddenly around you, pulling you into a warm chest that was practically vibrating with excitement.

“Oh my god!” Jeno hugged you tightly. “Congrats, Y/N! I’m so proud of you!”

You hugged him back for a moment, enjoying it more than you should have considering you swore up and down that you weren’t going to let yourself date him. Then you remembered the other half of the conversation, your arms going limp.

“And she wants a second part.”

“That’s great!” He exclaimed, then after another moment, it seemed to have dawned on him. “Oh wait.”

And he let go of you, a particular chill coming to your body as he took a step back from you, declaring, “Professionalism. No bias or conflict of interest.”

You felt bad. You felt so bad. And yet you nodded, “Yeah, it’s still going to have to be like that.”

Maybe forever, if you could swing it just right.

“So… a second part about what, exactly? The article was super great, but I’m not sure how I could be interesting enough for a sequel.”

“Your ‘exploring,’” you explained. “I had mentioned it, but never returned to the topic or expanded on it, so she wants this whole second part to be about your trips and you know… all that stuff. Whatever you get up to when you’re not a model, and when you’re not a regular dude here.”

A rather cheeky grin spread across his face at this, and you didn’t want to know why he was so excited about you not dating, because you had a feeling it would be something awful close to it.

“Well then, what better way to get to know Explorer Jeno than coming with me on my trip to a tropical island next week?”

You were taken aback by both the invite but also by the event itself. After all, Jeno had given you his entire schedule for the past two months, which included next week. And you didn’t remember a trip being anywhere on there.

“Since when have you been going to a tropical island next week?” You asked incredulously.

“Since now.”

You sighed, rubbing your face. “Jeno, you can’t drop everything in your life just to do this. I can wait until whenever your next actual scheduled break is for whatever trip you make then.”

“Yeah, but I can’t wait,” he insisted, a near pout across his features. He pulled his phone out of his back pocket, half-mumbling to himself, “I’m calling my manager right now. He owes me vacation days anyway, I’ll just take them early. Make my three-week backpacking trip in Europe next year fifteen days instead. I can’t wait.”

That went straight to your heart, and you felt your chest hurt from the implications of that. He couldn’t wait until he could date you. With every passing moment you felt like a more and more terrible human being. Which you were, you absolutely were just a horrible human being for doing this to him. After all, like you’d said, you were never going to date Lee Jeno.

Right?

One week later and you were in your third airport of the trip, your second layover as you waited for your connecting flight. You’d been in interviewer mode since Jeno had picked you up to head to the first airport that morning. Asking questions, writing answers, asking more questions. There was no room for anything but business on this trip. This article would be the follow-up to your first piece that your boss thought was perfect. So this had to be more perfect than perfect. You wanted to make her proud.

Jeno, surprisingly, was being rather professional too. Other than the slight touch here, an odd phrase there that couldn’t exactly be classified as professional. A brush of your hands as he tried to get your attention, off-handed comment about how cute you were when you were focused taking notes. You’d only remind him that this was a professional article, hoping that he couldn’t see the bashful smile on your lips.

Or even now, he returned from what was supposed to be a quick bathroom break with waters and snacks for the both of you.

“How much do I owe you?” You asked as you accepted the food and drink.

“Nothing.”

You frowned.

“Come on, Y/N,” he sighed in exasperation, cracking open his own water bottle. “I know we’re serious professional interviewing here, but two people doing business together can still be friendly and do nice gestures for each other.”

He was right. He was absolutely right. You were being a jerk for no reason. Well, not for no reason. There was a small voice in your head that hoped that maybe if you pushed him away enough now he would change his mind about wanting to date you, that he’d think you were actually a jerk. And that little voice was apparently wrong. And also a piece of shit. Jeno didn’t deserve that.

“Right, sorry,” you shook your grumpy face off, offering him a smile instead. “Thanks, Jeno.”

He pulled down his face mask to be able to drink the water, and that combined with his inconspicuous baseball cap brought back the idea that he was a famous celebrity who had to cover up his appearance when he went out to avoid being detected. Even in some random foreign country you didn’t know the name of on a layover. If you did actually start dating him, would he have to wear those on your dates? Any time you wanted to spend time together in public? Would you have to start wearing them?

Those were ridiculous thoughts, especially because you were never going to date Lee Jeno.

Right?

On the plane, you halted the interview to allow the two of you to both take naps, already feeling the toll of the heavy travelling you’d done today. And you’d be doing even more soon, as this flight wouldn’t even take you to the island directly, you had to take a ferry from a different island’s airport out to the actual island that was your destination. Then a car ride of some sort from the harbor to wherever you were staying. And based off the clothes Jeno had requested you bring, you’d be getting very in touch with nature on this trip, another exhausting idea.

All for an interview. All for a way to avoid the inevitable.

As you snoozed, not quite asleep yet, you felt Jeno slowly shift in his sleep, his head lolling to the side until it finally found a resting place on your shoulder. Even in his sleep this man completely disregarded professionalism.

But you were too tired to complain, soon falling asleep yourself, with your own head rolling until it finally found a resting place on his.

“So what exactly happened at your last interview that was so bad you were banned from them?”

Your questions continued as soon as you’d left the airport on the island, only halting when you were caught off-guard by Jeno’s choice of transportation: a cream yellow moped. Which you were now on the back of, clinging onto your bag for dear life. Thank God you had packed light like he suggested.

“It’s kind of a long story,” he replied loudly over the wind. “I’ll tell you when we get to the hotel, okay?”

“Fine.”

“We’ve got some tighter turns coming up, you might want to hold on to something actually attached to the moped.”

He didn’t say it, but you knew what he meant. Wrapping your arms around his torso, you then held onto him for dear life as he whipped around the turns. How he could possibly make a moped feel dangerous was truly incredible to you.

“Yeah, that—” he stumbled over a voice crack. “That’s good. Much more secure.”

“This question shouldn’t be a long story: Have you ever driven one of these things before?”

The hotel was small and homey, with so few rooms that the two of you would be sharing one. Jeno had already informed you of that beforehand, having asked for the okay from you, that sharing the room wouldn’t be too unprofessional. While it definitely was, there were no other rooms available, so you were stuck between a rock and a hard place. When he informed you that there were two beds, you finally agreed.

Except it wasn’t two beds, as you found out when you walked in. It was a bed and a pull-out couch. And he’d already claimed the pull-out couch for himself.

“Jeno,” you sighed again as you watched him set his stuff down on the less comfortable option. “This isn’t two beds.”

He shrugged, “We have separate places to sleep, that’s what you were worried about, right?”

Your patience was wearing thin. It was almost annoying how sweet he was. Well, it wasn’t really him being sweet that annoyed you. It was the sneaky ways he liked to do it.

“Jeno…” you repeated his name, trailing off as you waited for him acknowledge you.

He was still messing around with setting up the pull-out couch.

“Jeno, look at me.”

At your request, he immediately did so, the attentiveness catching you off-guard for a moment. But you were determined.

“I don’t like being lied to or tricked. Even if it’s something nice, you know? It’s sweet, but I like to make my own decisions about things. Even things that may seem little to you, like splitting the bill at restaurants, or whether you’re coming up to get me or I’m going down to meet you, or you dropping all your plans to go on some spur-of-the-moment trip, or who’s taking the couch and who’s taking the bed. I’d like a say in the matter, okay?”

He gulped, seeming to really be taking his time to mull over what you were saying. And you did, too. It was another reason that you could never date him. He was a celebrity, he was used to being able to do whatever, to not having to worry about the kinds of things normal people like you had to worry about. The implications of that terrified you. You couldn’t do it.

Finally, he said, “Okay, yeah. I understand. I never really saw it like that, I’m sorry. I should’ve been more thoughtful of how it was making you feel. I’m really sorry, Y/N.”

Shit, this dude was way too fucking sweet.

You nodded, mumbling some kind of response to the genuine apology he’d given you.

Clearly as eager to change the topic as you, Jeno spoke up, “So, what was it that you’d asked me on the moped earlier?”

And you were more than happy to revisit that, snatching up your notebook from your bag and sitting on the bed, “What happened at your last interview that caused you to be banned from them?”

“Oh, right,” he physically grimaced at this, rubbing his face with his hands for a moment. “It’s a long story, don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

“I’ve got plenty of paper.”

Jeno let out a sigh, sitting on the pull-out couch. “No, Y/N. I can tell you, but you can’t write it down, you can’t publish it. I’m sorry to have to ask you this, because I know how dedicated you are to the integrity of your work but… if you’re going to publish it, I can’t tell you. I’m sorry. The others don’t even know the whole story. Jaemin doesn’t know.”

His words struck you differently, hearing the genuine defeat and distress in his voice. With a twinging heart, you tucked your notepad and pencil back into your bag. For someone who had been preaching about professionalism and keeping the integrity of your article, you were really so ready to throw it out for him as soon as he asked, weren’t you?

“I won’t write it down, I won’t tell a soul,” you reassured him, wanting nothing more than to sit down next to him and hold his hand and tell him that everything was okay. But you still clung onto some little semblance of professionalism here. For some fucking reason, when it was getting clearer by the minute that all your resistance would be futile.

Just a glimmer of a smile was across his lips for a moment at your actions before it was taken over by the same pensive face as before, and he started the story.

“It was… oh probably over a year ago now. I was still kind of new to the modelling industry, but it felt like everyone’s eyes were on me. My company toted me around as their rising star and every second I wasn’t at a gig, I was being interviewed by someone. It was a lot, but it was freaking awesome.”

The brightness in his features that had been there as he recalled the earlier days of his career suddenly turned dark at his next words. “Until this one interview. It was for a smaller magazine, and my manager didn’t even know why I wanted to do the interview. But it was a magazine that my mom liked to read, and I wanted her to be able to see her son in it. So I sat down with the interviewer, and it felt like it was going like all my other interviews had gone. And maybe because I wanted to really make a good impression on her, so the article my mom read would be as positive as possible, I accidentally led her on or something like that.”

You tilted your head curiously at this last statement. If it had come from any other hot guy, you might have doubted his actual intentions, but it was Jeno. You knew that he wasn’t only physically attractive but had such a way of being naturally charming and making people feel at ease that it was impossible not to be drawn in by his attractive personality. He didn’t do it on purpose, he was just a genuinely nice guy.

“But afterwards, she asked for my number. I said no. I let her down as easy as I could, and she took it with grace. Or I had thought so until Manager Han and the CEO of my company—who I had never met until this—sat me down in his office and showed me a naked picture of some guy and asked if it was me. You couldn’t see his face, and his build was similar to mine, so I could see how they were doubtful. It wasn’t me, but that didn’t matter. The interviewer had sent those pictures to my company saying that if they didn’t pay her a bunch of money, she would post them online saying they were of me.”

Your eyes widened almost comically at this. You couldn’t believe that someone could actually think of doing something like that, especially to Jeno.

“Now, the company doesn’t take very well to people trying to extort them or threaten their people, so she was taken care of.” After a pause, his eyes shot open comically wide as he shook his head fervently, “Legally, in the legal system, it’s not like my company like killed her or anything, I phrased that very badly.”

A quiet laugh came from your mouth at his backpedaling.

“Anyway, they decided that after that, it would be best for me to not do interviews for a while. I don’t really know what happened to her after the court case, but to my knowledge, she hasn’t bothered us. And I haven’t had an interview since. Until you.”

“Until me,” you echoed, mind reeling from this story.

This interview really meant more to Jeno than you had realized before. You’d incorrectly and selfishly assumed that he was so invested in it just because he liked you. But it was more than that. His last interview had been a disaster, the interviewer threatened to humiliate him publicly, and betrayed him. He had taken a chance on you to be different than that, taken a chance to make you his first interview back after the shit the last one had put him through. You were sure that he was feeling the pressure from his company to make it the best possible return to them ever. And he had entrusted it all with you.

You weren’t sure of how long you’d been sitting in silence for, but it started suffocating you, so you finally choked out, “I’m sorry she did that to you. She’s… a bitch.”

Jeno chuckled, “I guess. I kind of just feel bad for her.”

“I don’t,” you snorted, feeling your blood starting to boil as you thought about it even more. “She tried to ruin your career and reputation because she got rejected. It’s not your fault, Jeno. You didn’t do anything to deserve that. She’s just a bitch.”

While he didn’t outright agree with you, the faint smile on his features was still apparent as he went to stand up, forcing some pep into his tone. “Okay, time for some island exploring. After all, you’re here for Explorer Jeno, right?”

“Right!”

Right?

Being on the island was refreshing. Not only because you’d never been on a trip to a place quite like it before, but just everything felt absolutely perfect. It was the perfect temperature outside, the warm sun being balanced out by a cool breeze that blew through your hair, the water surrounding you was the perfect clear blue, the flora the perfect rich green, and the man with you was… perfect.

You’d given up on trying to keep your fond thoughts of Jeno at bay. He was wonderful, that was undeniable. And as you went around the island together, his baseball cap and face mask left behind in the hotel room, the notion of his fame slipped from your mind. Sure, you were still writing down your observations, small adventures, and pertinent questions you asked him. But you weren’t interviewing Famous Supermodel Jeno right now, you were interviewing Explorer Jeno. And he was someone you could let yourself fall for, even for just a few days on this little island.

After your third day on the island as you signed onto the hotel wifi to transcribe your notes from your notebook to your word document on your laptop, a few email notifications popped up, catching your attention. Reception wasn’t the best, and you had so many other things occupying your focus and time—mainly Jeno—that you rarely checked your phone. Not to mention that before you’d left, you were unsure of if you’d even have cell phone service on the island, so you’d told your friends to email you if they needed anything.

One was an email from NingNing, the short preview of her message that you could see making you shake your head. You were not on a romantic getaway with Jeno.

The next was some flyer from a store advertising their latest sale, which you quickly discarded in favor of opening the one from Ms. Zhang. The person who was literally paying for you to be there right then.

The gist of her email was basically just asking for a status update, a routine check-in to see how your research and interview was coming along. You filled her in on what kind of direction and outline you were thinking of for the article, telling her some of the things you’d done together around the island, framing it as professionally as you could. However, it was very hard to make it business-like, you realized in slight defeat as you reread the email draft to yourself. Maybe you could make it casual-business-friendly-sounding instead. After editing a couple phrases here and there, you read it one more time. Satisfied that you’d made it sound the least like a ‘romantic getaway’ as possible, you hit send.

You had just sent it when Jeno emerged from the bathroom, fully clothed and toweling off his wet hair.

When the two of you had gotten back from wandering the streets and seeing the nightlife of the town, you’d given him first shower of the night, wanting to sort out your notes as soon as possible. You had a lot to move over just from that night alone, especially the moment when Jeno was ordering something from an older street vendor and had suddenly busted out some local dialect he’d picked up from God knows where. And the man knew what he was saying too. Jeno never ceased to amaze you.

“Jeno,” you called his name out from where you sat cross-legged on the bed, laptop with the email still up in front of you.

“Hm?” He hummed in acknowledgement, abandoning his towel in order to run his fingers through his damp hair.

“The way the guys had described your exploring, and the stuff you’d told me to bring made me think it’d be more… rugged than this.”

A handsome, crooked grin split his lips, seeming very delighted at your observation, “And what did the guys tell you?”

“Jaemin and Renjun seemed fearful for my life and told me to be safe; Haechan and Chenle were rather ecstatic and told me to have fun in a tone that made me not want to know their implications; Mark told me to bring plenty of water and a first aid kit; and Jisung… well he didn’t actually say anything but his face said it all.”

“You talked to all the guys about the trip?”

“Not by choice, NingNing brought me to an influencer party with Jisung, Jaemin, and Renjun the other day, and I was summoned to the lounge by Chenle and subsequently ambushed by him, Haechan, and Mark about it.”

“They’re all menaces,” Jeno shook his head fondly. “But don’t worry, I’ve got some plans for us tomorrow.”

“That sounds ominous.”

He giggled.

“So we’re hiking to the top of this volcano?” You summarized what Jeno had just told you, in much fewer words.

“Yep!”

“Then camping near the top, which we may or may not be allowed to do.”

“Yep!”

“Without a guide.”

“I’m your guide, Y/N! I do this kind of stuff all the time, and there’s a trail to follow anyway.”

“Now I know why Jaemin and Renjun feared for my life.”

“They were being dramatic, it’ll be fine.”

“Oh I’m not protesting going, I’ll just make sure to type up my will in the notes app in my phone first.”

“Now you’re being dramatic.”

You laughed, putting your hands up in surrender, “Alright, alright. I won’t write my final will and testament right now.”

“Let’s go!”

Thankfully, you’d taken heed of Mark’s advice to bring extra water. With the amount you were sweating, you would’ve been dehydrated less than an hour in if you weren’t constantly replenishing the lost fluids. It wasn’t an incredibly strenuous or difficult hike. Not a casual stroll, but you were managing. It was just that it was so hot and humid now that you were in the more confined landscape of the trees, you couldn’t tell if more of the moisture was your own sweat or the water hanging in the air and clinging to your skin as you continued through it.

Jeno kept you plenty entertained with stories of his previous (mis)adventures, almost all of which were solo. There were a couple times that he brought along others, but they didn’t go great. One unfortunate happenstance was when he’d dragged Eunseok out white water rafting with him and the poor guy fell out of the raft into freezing cold water. According to Jeno, his PA almost quit right on the spot. Another time, the other VIP lounge members had joined him as a celebration trip after Renjun hit 10 million subscribers. They ran out of water on the second day, Chenle ended up spraining his ankle, and they were ready to commit mutiny before the 48-hour mark, so the trip was concluded early.

“Jeno, it sounds like the people who go exploring with you don’t have a great track record of enjoying themselves,” you pointed out, taking another swig of water.

“Are you enjoying yourself, Y/N?” He countered.

Looking around, you could just make out a peek of blue ocean through the trees, and looking ahead of you, the two of you were more than halfway to the top.

“Yeah, I am. So far. There’s still time for me to sprain my ankle or fall into a freezing river.”

He shook his head affectionately at your teasing, “Careful, you’re going to jinx yourself.”

“Old hiking superstition? If you talk about spraining your ankle you will?”

“No, but still. My own little superstition, I guess.”

“Got it. Then I’ll un-jinx myself: I will not sprain my ankle or fall into a freezing river on this trip,” you announced loudly to the surrounding forest, earning another fond smile from Jeno accompanied by a soft chuckle.

“There you go.”

“Another five minutes or so and we’ll be at the peak!” Jeno yelled back over his shoulder to you excitedly.

You were a few steps behind him, your legs had been complaining for the greater part of the last thirty minutes. But with this information, you felt reinvigorated, having the end so close bringing a new spark of energy to your tired limbs. You caught up to him, sharing the trail at the wider parts and staying just behind him at the narrower parts.

Finally, you were at the top. And you knew because the trees opened up to a clearing, the leaves and branches giving way to the most incredible sights you could’ve imagined.

“Wow,” you breathed out, turning to get the full view.

From here you could see the whole little town below you, other nearby islands, the forest you had just hiked through, and the vast, glistening blue sea surrounding you. The sun bounced off of the water at the perfect angle to make it look like it was made of diamonds. It was breathtaking. Not to mention that now that you were out of the humid forest, you could once again feel the cool breeze across your heated skin.

A pod of dolphins surfaced briefly, their fins dipping up and down between the calm waves.

“Jeno, dolphins!” You pointed them out to him eagerly, instinctually clutching his arm in excitement. “Did you know that dolphins in the Amazon River are pink because of repeated skin abrasion, and that the males are pinker because they have a lot more interspecies aggression?”

“I think my guide told me something like that, but I was too focused on getting my paddle back from one to really listen to him.”

You turned to him with wide eyes. “You’ve seen them?”

“Yeah, I went to the Amazon last summer. I had to wrestle my paddle back from a rather playful one,” he shrugged, as if it was just a casual little day trip or something. “So you really like dolphins?”

“I did a report for school when I was like 11, some of the info just stuck.”

As you kept watching the dolphins, a smaller one popped up in the middle of the pod. “Oh! A baby! It’s so cute!”

“Yeah, she is,” he agreed with you.

You furrowed your brows in confusion. “You can’t tell it’s a girl from here!”

Then you looked over at him, realizing that his focus wasn’t on the dolphins, but on you. Mumbling something about professionalism, you let go of his arm, clasping your hands in front of you as you awkwardly looked back out to the sea.

With a victorious smirk on his face—probably enjoying the fact that he was able to fluster you—Jeno took a few steps away from you, yanking his knapsack off his back and grabbing a blanket from it, “Time for a late lunch.”

He laid the blanket out on a flatter part of the terrain, then brought out a small assortment of foods. You sat down with him, eager to dig into the food. With how much your legs hurt from hiking up here, you hadn’t realized that you were starving until he mentioned lunch. Your stomach growled angrily, and you just hoped it wasn’t loud enough for him to hear.

Jeno had packed a very nice lunch for you to share. For the most part, you two were quiet, mouths full of food and eyes still drinking in the stunning view of where you were. You turned your phone on to snap a few pictures before shutting it off again. With no charging ports out here, you had to conserve the battery until you were back in the hotel.

“Do you know which island that is?” You asked Jeno, pointing to the one that seemed the closest to you.

“Nope.”

“That one?” You pointed to a different one.

“Nope.”

“This one?” You teasingly pointed at the ground you were sitting on.

Jeno raised an eyebrow. “Do you?”

Right as you had opened your mouth to say something smartassy back, you pursed your lips in defeat. “Uh, nope.”

He chuckled, capping his water and starting to put the trash and leftover food back into his bag. You followed his lead, standing when he did so he could pack the blanket back up too. Stretching, a few satisfying cracks came from your back, letting go of the tension that had built up from your sitting position that probably wasn’t great for your spine.

“We should head down to the campsite soon,” Jeno informed you quietly as you had gone back to watching the ocean.

He’d told you while you were still at the base that you wouldn’t be camping at the peak, but at another area a little further down the mountain that was a lot safer for sleeping on. You wished you could’ve stayed up here for the rest of your life.

“Can’t we stay and watch the sunset?” Your voice was nearly a soft whine as you resisted leaving so soon. “It’s got to be incredible from up here.”

“I’m sure it is,” he sounded very reluctant to be telling you this. “But we have to set up camp before it gets too dark.”

“A couple more minutes?”

“Yeah, of course.”

After being rather useless in helping Jeno set up your campsite—not for any chivalrous reasons on his part, you were truly just inept at things and did more harm than good when you tried to help—you sat outside the tent with him. The two of you were going to be sharing a tent, which he had asked earlier if that would be okay. You told him it was fine with you.

The blanket previously used for lunch earlier was under the two of you as you sat just outside the tent. The site Jeno had chosen as your campsite was in a rare area where the foliage wasn’t too thick, and you could just make out some of the ocean as the sun set. It wasn’t the picture-perfect sunset you imagined could be seen from the peak, but it was still pretty.

You continued with your interview questions as you looked out towards the water, scrawling down his answers in the fading light. You couldn’t quite see what you were writing, hoping you didn’t just make a bunch of illegible scribbles instead of notes. He spoke again of his trip to the Amazon, saying how he’d like to go back again sometime, and maybe have a better look at the pink river dolphins. The way he said it fostered some implications, a thought in your mid that maybe you could go with him if he did go back. That was a nice thought. And impractical one, but it gave you warm fuzzies nonetheless.

“So, why do you think you like exploring so much?” You asked him after hearing so many stories of all the destinations he’d gone to.

“Who doesn’t like to travel?”

“What you do… it’s not just travelling, it’s not just a vacation. You’re not booked up in five stars hotels in city centers or doing every tacky tourist thing out there. You get at the heart of where you are, you explore it, you don’t just visit it. Why is that?”

“That’s a rather deep question,” he let out a light chuckle, shifting to face you as he closed his eyes, taking a moment to think. “I guess… like you said, I try to get at the heart of the place, not the surface-level stuff everyone else sees. I’ve always had a sort of wanderlust in me. When I was about twelve, I damn near gave my mom a heart attack because I got on a train and wanted to see where it went and ended up fifty miles from home. And now, I don’t know, I guess the stuff everybody else does doesn’t really interest me… the picture that’s painted to tourists of a place isn’t what it actually is, and I want to find out what is. If that makes sense. Did that make sense?”

You swallowed hard, nodding fervently. “Yeah, it did. I completely understand, yeah.”

That’s how he saw the world, and it was beautiful. And maybe you could see it like him; maybe you could look past the picture that’s painted and what everyone else sees to get at the heart.

Up this high, cold started setting in some time long after the sun had finished setting and darkness was all around you, save for the soft glow of the lantern Jeno had going. The temperature wouldn’t drop terribly, but it was cooler than it was during the day, encouraging you to tuck your chilly fingers into the inside of your knees for some warmth.

“I’m sorry,” Jeno frowned, standing up and stepping over to the tent. “I forgot to tell you to bring a jacket, didn’t I?”

“I’m alright, Jeno,” you assured him, but his arm popped back out of the tent holding a couple pieces of clothing.

It was two sweaters, one he offered out to you, the other presumably for himself. You didn’t refuse, which maybe you really should have for professionalism’s sake. Slipping the hoodie over your head then sticking your arms in, you were immediately swallowed up by it. Sure, Jeno was pretty buff, but you were sure this would be oversized even on him.

You didn’t even have to try to pull the sleeves over your hands, sweater paws already there as soon as you’d put it on. Which wasn’t ideal if you wanted to keep writing stuff down for the article.

“I would’ve told you that I’m a human space heater, but I figured this was a little more professional,” he said, heavy implications there.

Butterflies fluttered around in your stomach as you took it upon yourself to scoot closer to him until your legs and sides were touching, “This is still professional, just two professionals huddling together for warmth.”

“Yeah.”

You were trying to convince yourself more than you were him, knowing that you couldn’t really fool yourself on this one. But damn, you could pretend you did.

It was pretty soon after he’d gotten sweaters for the two of you that Jeno interjected into your conversation, “So when is the article technically over? When you’re done writing it? When your boss okays it? When it’s compiled with the other articles in that issue of the journal? When the copies hit the shelves and its uploaded to the website?”

You let out a shallow breath, knowing what he was really asking. When can the two of you date?

The part of you that was saying ‘never!’ was getting smaller and smaller, and the part of you who just wanted it to be right now was growing bigger and bigger. And yet, for some reason, you were still listening to the little one.

“I don’t know, probably when it’s officially published. You know, when ‘the copies hit the shelves and it’s uploaded to the website.’”

“When do you think that will be?”

“The first one is being published in this month’s issue. So, depending on how fast I get this one written up and proofed, at the earliest next month.”

“And the latest?”

“A couple months. I’m not sure how long Ms. Zhang will want between the two, if she wants to leave the audience in suspense for longer or give them the next part as soon as possible. Probably the first one, if I’m being honest.”

“Oh,” Jeno’s pout that you could see illuminated from the lantern was suddenly split into a wide yawn. “We should go to sleep, we’ve got the climb back down tomorrow.”

You were glad that he had brought it up first. After all, you were pretty tired, but you weren’t about to be the one to end the nice time you were having. Nodding, you stood, taking the lantern in your hand as Jeno folded the blanket back up.

Ducking into the tent, you immediately plopped down onto your sleeping bag, giving Jeno as much room as possible to maneuver his limbs around as he zipped the tent up behind him and set his stuff down in the corner. You put the lantern down at your feet, keeping the area illuminated as you climbed into your sleeping bag and started settling in for the night.

With the covers pulled up to your shoulders and Jeno’s hoodie bunching around your face in a comfortably warm way, you were pretty content to fall asleep then and there. But the light was still on.

Groaning, you looked down towards your feet, glaring at the lantern you knew you’d have to get un-comfy to turn off. Jeno had a small smile on his face as he sat up, “I’ll get it. You ready to turn it off?”

You nodded, your ‘yes’ muffled by the hoodie.

The last thing you saw before complete darkness was Jeno’s soft grin. That was a rather nice image to have in your mind as you drifted off to sleep.

Eyes fluttering awake, the first thing you were aware of was that you were warm. Very warm. Way too warm. One might say that you were currently in a pool of your own sweat. You’d have to wash this hoodie before giving it back to Jeno, it was definitely disgusting.

Speaking of Jeno, he wasn’t in the tent with you, which you noticed as you peeled the somewhat damp sweater off yourself. You took the opportunity to apply some more deodorant and change your short sleeve shirt before shoving your feet back into your shoes. You headed out of the tent, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes as you did so.

The very last traces of the sunrise were still in the sky from the little that you could see, but it was definitely morning. Looking around, you spotted Jeno standing a little further away from the tent, holding his hand out towards a lower-hanging branch. You wouldn’t have quite been able to reach it yourself, but he could. Perched atop the branch was a bright blue bird, eating right out of his hand. Your eyes widened just a little at this, though you were too tired to be terribly surprised.

Watching him feed the bird for a little longer, you felt your chest swell. His hair was messy, not having fixed his bedhead yet; a peaceful hint of a smile tugged at the corner of his mouth; his big, round, eyes watched the bird eat with a certain simple happiness that for some reason had tears threatening to well up in your own.

You opened your mouth to call out to him, but instead a hoarse croak came out, one that made the bird take off in a flurry of blue feathers and fear. Jeno’s head whipped around to look at the source of the noise, you, and a bright grin came to his features.

“Morning, Y/N,” his voice was even deeper from sleep as he greeted you. He didn’t even seem mad that you’d scared off the bird.

As he approached you, the swell in your chest continued to the point where it hurt, and your vision started going blurry from the tears building up. Jeno’s expression changed to one of concern as he seemed to notice your moist eyes the closer that he got.

“Wh—”

You’d finally gone insane, you’d decided. Absolutely bonkers, completely crazy. After all, how else would you explain the fact that you were now kissing Jeno?

With your hands gripping at his shirt to bring his mouth down to yours, you kissed him like you’d been sick for your whole life and his lips were the cure. All the voices in your head finally shut up, your chest decompressed, and a single tear ran down your face.

He immediately kissed you back, but his hands seemed unsure of what to do, gingerly resting on your arms, featherlight as they hovered there. As if he was afraid that he’d break you, despite the force with which you had crashed your mouth to his.

When you let yourself come back down—and also breathe—you loosened your grip on Jeno’s shirt, releasing him from the slightly hunched position he had been in. Slowly, you brought one of your hands down to wipe away the lone tear.

Jeno was looking at you with a tilted head. “Well, that wasn’t very professional.”

A strangled chuckle escaped your mouth as you fiddled with the hem of your shirt, “Yeah, sorry.”

“No, don’t apologize,” he said softly, a gentle hand coming to cup your cheek, urging you to look back up at him. And when you did, he lightly brushed his lips against yours. A tender ghost of a kiss, one that didn’t last long as Jeno ended it almost as soon as he’d started it.

Opening your eyes, you saw a nearly silly grin spread across his face, precious giggles bubbling up. His smile was contagious, one gracing your mouth as well.

“Is this going to ruin the integrity of your article?” He asked, still smiling down at you. “If you want this to be a thing, of course.”

“I do, I do,” you nodded fervently, a great weight lifted off your soul now that you let yourself admit that. “I’ll tell Ms. Zhang and see what she wants to do about the articles. Until then, we’ve got to lay low.”

“Movie nights,” he immediately surmised.

Quite liking the idea, you agreed, “Yeah, movie nights.”

The doors opened to the VIP lounge, where you had agreed to meet Jeno after your meeting with your boss. It was almost two weeks after you’d returned from what NingNing was now definitely referring to as your ‘romantic getaway,’ which you couldn’t argue. Most of those two weeks was spent by you finalizing your second article, not wanting to tell Ms. Zhang about how that trip had really gone until after you had work to show for it.

Jeno was waiting for you, already standing up and pacing the small room nervously. He seemed more worried about this than you were, despite it really being your career on the line and not his.

You made a beeline to wrap your arms around his torso, burying your face in his chest, and he immediately reciprocated it, holding you closely and pecking the crown of your head.

“Hey, how’d it go?” His gentle tone of voice betrayed his assumptions that it was bad.

Bringing your face out of his chest in order to look up at him, you squealed, “She’s still going to publish them!”

“Ah!” He cried out, tightening his grip on you until it was practically bone-crushing. “I knew it! I knew you were just so good she would have to publish your articles.”

You elaborated, practically buzzing with excitement, “Because I kept out the uh, more private details of the trip and focused on you and the trip itself, she says that it ties up the loose end from the first one nicely. Although, she did recommend not going public until after the second article was out.”

“But you won’t get fired if we don’t abide by that recommendation, right?”

“No, I won’t,” you reassured him, happiness fluttering in your chest as he pecked your forehead.

“I’m so proud of you, Y/N.”

“Mhm,” you hummed, letting him peck your lips too before you spoke up. “I do think she’s right, though, we should wait a while to go out in public as a couple.”

Jeno clearly didn’t like that idea, sighing in reply, “Why?”

“It’s been less than a month, what if you decide you don’t like me?”

It was meant to be a joke, but he took it seriously, kissing your forehead, then your nose, then finally your mouth, “Impossible.”

After a moment, he relented, “Alright. I waited two months, another one or so shouldn’t be that bad.”

“Actually, she’s publishing the second article in a special edition that’ll come out two weeks after the first, not a month.”

“I can wait three weeks.”

And wait three weeks he did. Three weeks exactly. Twenty-one days after your conversation in the VIP lounge, two days after your second article hit the shelves, Jeno picked you up for your first public date. This time, you let him come up and get you—your roommate wasn’t home to bother you—and he left his hat and face mask at home.

“Hi Jeno,” you greeted him as you opened the door.

“Hi, baby,” he replied, wasting no time in lacing your fingers together as you walked to the elevator.

As soon as you stepped foot out of your apartment building, whatever resolve he had broke down, and he smooched your cheek loudly. You giggled at the gesture, squeezing his hand to let him know that you were okay with it. After all, you’d made the poor guy wait longer than he should have, some PDA was in order.

The date was at a small café a few blocks over, within walking distance. Which you were sure Jeno appreciated, having a longer time to be out in public with you, never once letting go of your hand or without physical contact with you. He had to let everybody know that you were dating, and you didn’t mind. You liked that he was so ecstatic to be dating you.

At the café, you ordered up at a front counter, and the cashier asked, “Together or separate?”

“Together!” Jeno replied brightly, wrapping an arm around your shoulders.

You leaned over to murmur to him, “She means, are we paying together or separate?”

“Together!” He repeated.

Squinting up at him for a moment, you didn’t argue it, letting him take the check for both of you. Although you did take a few crumpled bills out of your wallet to drop into the tip jar. After getting your food, you eagerly dug in, a light and amicable conversation had between bites.

“So you really waited exactly three weeks, huh?” You teased him.

“The second article came out two days ago, I think that’s plenty of time for everyone to read it,” he defended himself.

“It took you five days to read it.”

He seemed about ready to quip something back when a muffled chorus of squeals cut him off. You took a brief glance around, eyes landing on a group of teenage girls standing just outside the window that you were seated by. They weren’t uncomfortably close, but it was clear what had made them so excited.

Jeno ducked his head shyly as he raised a hand to acknowledge them, only setting their nervous titters off again. This situation was eerily familiar, déjà vu washing over you.

But this time, you were kind of glad that he had left his mask and hat at home, and that he’d chosen a table by the window.

Because your heart soared as you were once again reminded of who exactly the man in front of you was. Not just a model who was known internationally, with fans who would recognize him out and about, with a career and life that was under the public gaze constantly, but also a cute, sweet, funny guy named Lee Jeno.

You could do that. You could subject yourself to that. It would be fine as long as you had Jeno with you.

With the girls still watching the two of you, you reached a hand out across the table towards him. Thankfully, he took your lead, picking it up before pressing a few tender kisses to your fingers. Hopefully the girls got the message that this was romantic and private, and nothing else.

A dating rumor with Lee Jeno was absolutely the one thing you needed in your life. Lee Jeno was absolutely the one thing you needed in your life.

“Jeno?” You called for his attention, ignoring the gaggle of fans outside the window.

“Yes?” He focused on you, squeezing your hand.

“I have a question…”

“I thought the interview was over,” he pouted teasingly.

“It is, I swear.” You lifted your linked hands pointedly. “I just… There’s something that’s kind of been nagging at me, about the interview.”

“Ask away.”

“Why me? Like, I remember at our first interview session, you thought I was just going to ask you all the normal stuff about celebrity crushes and stuff.”

“You remember what I said, about my parents’ shop? How I used to help out there?”

“Yeah, of course.”

“When NingNing brought you to the lounge, and you said that thing about you being a normal person, and me being a supermodel, and how you weren’t comfortable around me because of that, it really hit me. I-I really hated that.”

“Jeno, I’m sorry—”

“No, it’s not your fault,” he insisted. “It’s nobody’s fault, that’s just how it is, how our culture is, or whatever. But I hated that you felt like that around me. Because I didn’t use to be like that. I used to be a normal person, too. And I just thought that if you and I had met a few years ago, when I was working in my parents’ shop or something, I could’ve talked to you like a normal guy, and I would’ve been able to put you at ease and flirt with you like a normal person. Instead of having to do it in the most roundabout way like I did this time.”

You grinned. “Oh, I don’t know, you would’ve still been a stupidly attractive register boy, Jeno. I might’ve been a bit tongue-tied if we had met back then, too.”

“I guess we’ll never know, will we?”

“I guess not,” you clicked your tongue. “Though that would’ve been an even better meet-cute than me saying you looked like a dog.”

“Oh, so we’re not telling that story to our kids?”

“Kids?!” You sputtered out. “When did kids enter the equation here, Lee Jeno?”

“What? Who said that?” He blinked at you innocently.

“At least say the L-word first, jeez.”

“I love you.”

“Christ, I was joking!”

“I wasn’t!”

You shook your head, unable to fight off the smitten grin on your lips. “I love you too, Jeno. You crazy son of a bitch.”

⤷ blog masterlist

[mitsvriii]

LOVE LANGUAGES

ft. genshin men

bell's note: sorry if the matte looks weird or too bright it's my first time messing around with it, might want to read it on a dark/darker mode just in case, experimenting with a more descriptive writing style so if we like let me know, no specific reader type, not proofread or word counted so if there are mistakes let me know, ga-ming is not included because i haven't been up-to-date with genshin and do not want to mischaracterize him

also date is weird because i accidentally posted and had to edit privately so oopsies

words of affirmation

kazuha, thoma, baizhu, neuvillette, zhongli, diluc

Whether it be a small word of encouragement or a simple, "you're doing great today", he always seems to know what to say and when to say it. His words soft as a dew drop falling from leaf to leaf in a misty morning, hitting your ears with such motion that you cannot help the smile that graces your lips, and lifts up the corners of them; like the movement of a picnic blanket being spread out on a flowery field.

quality time

kaeya, ajax, diluc, ayato, itto, gorou, neuvillette, wriothesley

Despite his busy days or numerous tasks for the day, whenever he gets a break he always goes to spend it with you first. Strolls down moonlight paths, childish games galore among hushed giggles, silent remarks exchanged between the flipping of a book's pages, or adoring smiles with stones that fail to jump the stream's waves like dolphins in the ocean. While your time may be short together as duties will call him back, your graceful smile and happy laughter will fill his lungs with purpose and a calm spirit for days to come.

physical touch

freminet, wanderer, tighnari, lyney, thoma, venti

A lingering hand tracing stars onto your back, each touch making your stress dissolve like sugar on your tongue. In other situations, it's a slightly calloused hand latching onto yours perfectly, as if your two hands were magnets meeting each other as one. A firm yet gentle grasp of his hands onto your hips as he oh-so-softly moves you to the side, your shoulders brushing against each other as he walks ahead of you. It could even be the way his thumb traces your cheek on quiet nights in bed, but no matter what it is your stomach is akin to churning butter whenever he touches you.

acts of service

neuvillette, zhongli, tighnari, alhaitham, heizou, xiao, cyno

Holding open a door amidst the sunny heat waves, waiting oh-so-patiently for you to reach it in your midst. It's even the simple offer to do the dishes or clean up around the house for you after a long day of work. Your clean clothes that were previously in a messy pile on the bed the moment you left your shared home for the day were put away neatly in their respective places in your bedroom by the time you returned home. Food prepared early with a little note, with sweet whispers decorated with ink on the note attached to the plate. Although he might seem cold or awfully busy at times, the things he does for you just because he can, says completely otherwise.

gift giving

xiao, zhongli , neuvillette, ajax, lyney, ayato, diluc, venti, kaveh

A bouquet of freshly picked flowers lying on your doorstep. Or an odd trinket from Archons knows what but he's so proud about acquiring it for you that you can't help the laugh that leaves your lungs. If you're lucky he'll find the ingredients to make his special dish, placing it beside you before retreating back to whatever he was busy with that day, but not before giving your temple a soft kiss. On rainy days he'll appear soaked to the bone, a boyish grin lacing his pretty face, with a chipped-off gem in his hands, claiming that the rain smoothed it out for him; hence why he had to get it instead of waiting for the rain to pass. No matter the gift he brings, though, you always cherish them no matter what

[captain-mj]

In the past I feel like you’ve said ‘I was just waiting for an ask so I could post this’ so this is an ask to give you that excuse completely. I request that thing you just really want to write. Use it at anytime you want. We love your writing.

Please let me read that thing you want to write !!!

*non normal noises*

i will absolutely take you up on this!! Ghost and Soap sparring angst edition, rather short, kinda clunky, very self indulgent for me.

Soap had never seen Ghost spar. Ever. He didn't get why. It felt like everyone should spar, just to keep their skills sharp. Maybe no one asked him? Whenever Ghost was in the gym, which was shockingly rare from what Soap saw but maybe he just went at different times, people avoided him. It would make sense if no one wanted to spar with him.

Maybe that's why it was so strange that today, someone asked Ghost to spar and he said yes. It made Soap wonder if he'd always say yes, just no one asked.

Ghost wrapped his hands and pulled off his jacket. Soap's attention was immediately caught on the wrist that was exposed at this move. In his head, he could hear Gaz calling him a Victorian woman seeing ankle.

Ghost had the other person fight him and it was clear he wasn't trying very hard. He was almost playful about the moves that would send the other guy sprawling to the ground. "Come on, private. You can hit me harder than that." He assured before yanking them back up.

A few other people stopped what they were doing to watch, several grimacing when Ghost sent the private tumbling. "Ah come on Simon, you're going easy on him!"

Soap watched Ghost... flinch wasn't the right word. His shoulder jerked up slightly, as if to cover his ear and block out what the guy was saying. The private managed to get a hit on him and Ghost cuffed his head to force him back.

"Get him, Carter!" Someone yelled and Ghost's shoulder jerked up again. He started to dodge the private's attacks instead of fighting back.

Soap sensed something was wrong and started to look for a way to de-escalate. He wasn't sure what was setting Ghost off, but he didn't want anyone to get hurt.

The private lunged at him in a rather unprofessional move. It managed to get Ghost on his back but it also flicked the switch.

Ghost grabbed the private and really hit him. No sense of hesitation or carefulness. The private's head snapped back and he quickly started to back up.

"There ya go Riley!" Someone jeered and Soap thought for a moment he was mocking him.

Ghost grabbed the private and started to hit him harder. For a moment, the world felt frozen as everyone who watched went from entertained to horrified.

The private tried to wrap his legs around Ghost to flip him but the man was a brick wall.

Someone started to scream for Price and people were moving quickly but Soap didn't bother with that. He just ran at Ghost, slamming into him to get him off of the private.

Ghost was feral, actually snapping his teeth at Soap despite the mask between them. "Fuck off. Fuck off. Fuck off."

Soap tried to pin Ghost and quickly found himself on his stomach, arm bent behind his back. He saw the private quickly scrambling to get away, blood dripping from his nose with a limp.

Soap struggled with Ghost, trying to get out of the pin he was in. His arm was slowly being twisted further and further up his back and he thought for a brief moment that his arm would pop out of his socket.

Price yanked Ghost off of him. "Simon, you're okay. You're alright. I promise."

Ghost kicked at the ground aggressively but didn't hit Price. He huffed and snarled. "Fuck you."

"You're fine. I promise. You're alright." Price held Ghost tight until his breathing evened out. "So. I think sparring is still of the table for you."

"Just wanted to try."

"What happened?"

"I was back in the ring." Ghost grunted, trying to pull away from Price who simply yanked him back down.

Soap tested his arm. It was his bad arm and he couldn't quite feel his fingers. "Ring?"

"Fighting ring." Ghost explained. "Couldn't let them win."

Soap shivered, wondering when the fuck he would've been in a fighting ring

[daemondollalbum]

We have an important update about DAEMON/DOLL's pre-order availability, particularly for international customers. Please read!

First of all, thank you everyone for your patience regarding the physical pre-order period! That said, we have a few more updates about how the physical pre-orders will work...

Unfortunately, we will only be able to accept pre-orders from the US and Japan. This is mostly due to tax complications- some places are very difficult or impossible for us operating as individuals to ship to.

There will be an order cap on the number of pre-orders we accept (as there are only so many CDs we can fit in Lone's bedroom.... which is where we're shipping everything out of.....)

Once we hit the order cap, pre-orders will close and merchandise production will begin. While the exact order cap number will remain private, we'll post notifications when we hit certain percentage milestones to keep you updated on how close we are to the cap (50% sold, 75% sold, 90% sold).

BUT!!!! All international customers will be able to purchase leftover stock!

Leftover stock will be hosted and shipped by Very Ok Vinyl, who is able to ship worldwide! Both the album-only and deluxe editions will available for purchase at the same price as the pre-orders.

(Proceeds from the leftover stock sales will still be paid out to the contributors- Very Ok Vinyl is only acting as a distribution partner, as they can ship to places we were struggling to find shipping solutions to- such as the EU and South Korea!)

This will allow us to reach more places than before, let us get the album to you with less stress, and hopefully make the ordering process smoother for international customers.

The response to this project has been beyond what we imagined, but I hope that means you'll understand if we weren't expecting such a large amount of potential demand, as we are just two people who like Teto who are shipping CDs out of Lone's bedroom.

We're very sorry for any inconveniences or confusion this may cause, and appreciate your continued flexibility and understanding! Feel free to reach out with any specific questions: daemondollalbum@gmail.com

Thank you for your patience!

TLDR: We had to restructure CD sales due to demand. What does this mean for you?

If you're an American or Japanese customer...

Basically nothing has changed for you! You will be able to place a pre-order starting on 4/27 through our Bigcartel.

We ask that American and Japanese customers refrain from buying leftover stock so other international customers have the opportunity first.

If you're any other International customer (Everywhere except US and JP)...

You'll have to wait for leftover sales to purchase the album; you won't be able to pre-order.

Sorry that you'll have to wait a bit longer! But the alternative was that we wouldn't be able to ship the album to you at all- this was the best way we could work around our limitations. And this way you won't have to wait as long for the album after you buy it 🙂 Thanks for your patience and understanding!

If you're an EU + UK customer who filled out the interest form...

Not too dissimilar from our previous set-up. Instead of the Etsy shop, you'll be buying leftover stock from Very Ok Vinyl instead (which will ship to you much faster than we would be able to). We'll be using the pre-order numbers to gauge demand for the leftover stock, so hopefully everyone who wants one will be able to get a copy!

If you're a Canadian customer...

Very Ok Vinyl is based in Canada, so congratulations on the reduced shipping cost and wait 🙂

"I'm a customer in a place that's generally hard to ship to. Will you be able to ship to me?"

Very Ok Vinyl's international shipping is done through PostNL and APC. You can check your specific country on their service update pages: PostNL / APC.

[dragoncxv360]

@cosmicfleurs I was your dca secret santa!!!

(Remaking this ‘cause when I edited the original it posted instead of just saving for the scheduled time tomorrow??? 😭 Thankfully I privated the og post before it got reblogged)

I had so much fun drawing your Runaway Royalty Au! I wanted to do a book cover/movie poster style drawing for this ‘cause it felt perfect for your designs. It was def difficult to draw some parts but overall it was really fun

Checked and apparently I spent 28 hours on this lol that’s now the second time I’ve spent that long on a drawing (that wasn’t multiple drawings on one canvas). It def didn’t feel like it took that long. Checked my battery usage and most of it was done in 2-3 hour chunks over the past week or so XD, yesterday (the 23rd, I’m scheduling this post for tomorrow so it’ll be 2 days ago by the time this is posted) was 5 hours tho.

Anyways, I really love your character designs and am super happy you were assigned to me. I had so much fun making the dynamic poses and the background and shading everything. I even actually had fun with the lineart which doesn’t happen super often for me as I tend to find lineart very tedious and tiring to do (I love how it looks tho so I do it anyways). (Also I hope it was ok to add some weapons and magic and that it’s not like conflicting with what’s canon in the au). I was def inspired by like the Voc Machina tv show cover art for this, The Dragon Prince too probably since they have sorta similar artstyles?

(Also I’m glad I was able to get this done ‘cause I got hit with pretty bad seasonal depression at the beginning half of the month and had to make some med adjustments to get outta that rut)

Progress stuff and timelapse under the cut

Also here’s a 30 second timelapse (the full version is like 15-20 minutes long and I almost fell asleep watching it so I ain’t putting y’all through that lmao)

WARNING FOR FLASHING/FLICKERING

[beneathstarryskies]

Is it safe, is it safe to just be who we are? (Dante x Reader)

Warnings: fem!reader, oral sex (f receiving), smut, creampie, attempted sexual assault (not by Dante, he saves the reader), alcohol, whiskey dick, maybe yandere themes if you squint, NOT EDITED, post DMC2 Dante Words: 4,936 A/N: This has been on my google docs forever and finally with the encouragement of @actuallysaiyan I finally finished it. (i swear to Sparda she's the only reason y'all get content from me because she just encourages me so much all the time to write the things i wanna write so shout out to Bacon for being amazing.)

Every night feels the same. Ever since Vie de Marli and returning from the underworld, Dante has scoured the local bar scene in search of simple distractions. All he needs is little chunks of time where he can feel pleasure and just not think. In those moments when he’s chasing release, he doesn’t have to remember that he killed his own brother or think about the never-ending cycle of demonic chaos being unleashed. He takes and takes and takes all he can from anyone who is willing to give it to him.

Dante has gotten quite good at picking out the right people to pursue. The ones who won’t care if he goes to their place instead of inviting them to his and won’t put up a fuss when he sneaks off in the morning, assuming he bothers to spend the night at all. Sometimes he even got lucky enough to meet someone who doesn’t even care if they exchange names, much less go somewhere more private. 

Tonight was one of those nights. All he had to do was buy her one drink and she was giggling as she dragged him to the bathroom. He couldn’t believe the lack of self-awareness she had for the way other’s judged her for the display. He stumbles behind her, having indulged in more drinks than usual tonight. His vision is so blurry he can hardly make out the details of her face as she pushes him against the bathroom wall and kisses him sloppily. He doesn’t quite like the way her tongue tastes against his, but it doesn’t matter in the end. They won’t see each other again. 

“Did ya lock the door?” he slurs. 

“Don’t worry about it,” she giggles. “Everyone saw us come in here.” 

He leans his head against the wall and closes his eyes as her hands drag down his chest. The kisses she places on his neck are mostly tongue. He tries to ignore the cold sensation from the air hitting the wet spots she leaves on his skin. He opens his eyes again when she pulls away. She’s sinking to her knees in front of him and he wonders if he should feel guilty for having her kneeling on the sticky floor. 

‘She put herself there,’ he thinks dismissively. 

Her fingers fumble with his belt buckle to the point that he becomes impatient and pushes her hand away so he can open it himself. She giggles out a quick thanks before tugging his pants off his hips. Once again he rests his head against the wall and lets his eyes flutter closes. His head is spinning right now. 

He’s only vaguely aware of the feeling of her tongue swirling over the tip of his cock. A soft sigh escapes him but he is otherwise quiet as she sets to work. He tangles his hand in her hair, and this makes her pull away with a scoff. 

“Don’t fuck up my hair,” she whines. 

“Sorry,” he mumbles and catches a whiff of the whiskey on his breath. He lets his hand fall to the side without looking at her. She licks his tip again and starts stroking his cock. 

Dante is waiting for that tingling feeling in the pit of his stomach, but it never happens. He doesn’t feel a damn thing. She stands up suddenly. 

“I don’t wanna do this,” she says as she straightens her skirt. 

“Wait–” 

She rolls her eyes, “You’re not even getting hard, dude.” 

Dante looks down and discovers with no small amount of exasperation that she’s right. He’s not even half hard. He tucks himself back into his pants before leaning off the wall. He walks over to the sink beside her where she’s fixing her makeup so he can splash water on his face. 

“Don’t worry, I won’t say anything,” the girl says. 

‘Except to that group of obnoxious friends who probably put you up to this to start with,’ he wants to say but doesn’t. Instead he just nods absently. 

He’d be humiliated if he cared enough about this situation. He leaves the bathroom before her and finds a spot at the end of the bar to sit, as far from everyone else as he can get. 

“You look like you could use this,” a soft voice says before passing a glass of water to him. You offer a comforting smile as he glances through a curtain of white hair at you. 

“Thanks,” he sighs. 

“Do you need me to call you a cab or something?” you ask him. 

“Nah,” he takes a sip from the water. “I’ll walk.” 

“Are you sure?” 

He growls, “Whaddya care?” 

You’re taken aback by the shift in his demeanor, and you pull back. You weren’t much for the party scene, but sometimes you come out for a drink after a long day. You’d always see him in here. Usually he left with someone, but sometimes he didn’t. He seemed more and more jaded every time. 

“I’m sorry,” you say quietly. “Uhm, just make sure you drink the water before you leave.” 

You return to your small group of friends. You wish you’d listened to them and just left it alone.

_

A few nights later, in the same bathroom he finds more success. This time he’s even managed to get the nameless woman bent over the sink. One hand is clasped over her mouth to keep her quiet as he pounds into her. He doubts she’s enjoying it half as much as she’s trying to sound. If she is, it’s completely by coincidence because he’s not trying. Not at all. He’s too busy chasing his own high. 

The proof of her lack of enjoyment comes when he groans a warning that he’s close. She’s pleading behind his palm for more, but it’s too late. Before she has a chance to reach her own peak, he’s pulling out to get out of the condom. 

“Are you fucking kidding me?” she gasps. 

“What?” Dante raises his eyebrow, “I told you I was close.” 

“Asshole,” she mutters as she pulls her dress down. 

“Sorry, sweetheart,” he kisses her cheek. “I’ll buy you a drink.”

“Fuck off.” 

“Your call,” he shrugs before leaving the bathroom. 

You try not to look at him when he walks out of the bathroom. A strange mix of disgust and pity fills you up. Why do you care so much? You ask yourself that every time you’re here. Maybe it’s some deluded sense of jealousy because he’s never tried to pick you up. 

That doesn’t mean Dante hasn’t noticed you. Ever since the night you brought him a glass of water, he’s done everything he can not to notice you. You sounded so genuinely concerned, and it filled him with a warmth he hasn’t felt in so long. He looks forward to Friday nights just so he can catch a glimpse of you. You’re usually with a group of friends, and in his imagination you’re the crown jewel of your friend group. The proof to him is the way they all smile when you do, that big infectious smile that lights up the whole bar. He tries to imagine the clever things you must say to make them all laugh. He’s seen the softer moments to. When one of your friends drinks too much, you’re the one escorting them to the bathroom to throw up or making sure they get home safe. 

He wants to say something to make you smile. He wants you to make him laugh like you do for your friends. Part of him wants to get shit-faced again just to see if you’ll take care of him and fill him with that warm feeling in his chest again. He can’t touch your life, he knows that. He’ll ruin it all if he does. So, he watches from the sidelines and selfishly hopes you never find a reason not to come back here. 

Tonight is a little different. You seem upset about something, but you’re trying to stay the jewel. You’re trying to smile, but there’s sadness behind it. The drinks are disappearing quicker than usual. He’s only ever noticed you having one or two, but tonight the table in front of you is littered in glasses. 

There’s a moment when he sees something snap in you, and you stand up suddenly. You’re starting towards the door, making hand motions to your friends to indicate for them to stay behind. He can’t believe they’re listening to you. 

‘Don’t go alone,’ he thinks. ‘Don’t…’

You stumble outside by yourself. His blood runs cold when a man follows behind you. Dante is bolting from the barstool before he has a moment to think about it. He’s outside and rounding the corner into the alleyway when he hears your small, soft voice slurring. 

“Leave me alone,” you whine. “Just leave me alone.” 

You’re pressed against the wall and the man is standing in front of you with both hands on the wall to block your exits. 

“Come on, just loosen up,” he tries to coax you. 

“Leave me alone,” you repeat pathetically. Your eyes widen when Dante’s large hand comes to the man’s shoulder, and he pulls him away from you effortlessly. 

“Get outta here,” Dante growls. 

The man puffs his chest up, “What are you? Her boyfriend?” 

“Just beat it,” Dante warns. “Don’t make me hurt you.” 

The man rolls his eyes, “From what I hear you can’t even get it up, so you’re not much of a man are ya–” 

Dante shoves the man hard enough for him to fall to the ground nearly a yard away. The man yelps and tries to stumble to his feet while screaming obscenities at Dante, who doesn’t even hear him anymore. He’s already turning to you. 

“Are you okay? Did he hurt you?” Dante’s hands are gentle as they cup your cheeks. His thumbs wipe the stray tears off your cheeks. 

“I’m okay,” you sniffle softly. You look up at him, into the clearest blue eyes you’ve ever seen. Your heart races, “I just wanted to get some air.” 

“It’s alright, sweetheart. You didn’t do anything wrong,” Dante soothes you. 

“Thank you,” you say and then there it is, that sweet smile. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were like a knight in shining armor.”

“You think you know better?” he smirks. 

“You’re trouble in a red coat.” 

Dante chuckles and it feels nice. You’re something different, something special. He’s so happy he was keeping an eye on you so he could get to you before that guy could do anything to hurt you. 

“Don’t knights get rewarded for good deeds?” 

“Ah, but I decided you’re too much trouble to be a knight,” you remind him. 

“Right, right.” 

“But, uhm,” you blush before leaning up on your tiptoes to kiss him on the cheek. Affection blossoms in his chest. You’re slipping past him before he’s had time to come to terms with what’s happened. 

“Wait,” he calls out, “What’s your name?” 

You let a mischevious smile tug at your lips, “What do you care?” 

His heart races as he chases you into the bar again. He wants to follow you to your table and get your name. He wants to hear his coming from your sweet voice. He wants to make you giggle and smile. Maybe if he were to play his cards right, you’d give him a kiss. A real one. He knows, fuck he knows, that he could get so much more from any of these girls if he played his cards right but it wouldn’t feel warm like when you kissed his cheek. He’d sacrifice anything –everything– just to kiss you. 

He loses his nerve when you sit down at your table again with your friends. They all ask about you, and he hears you give a half-hearted excuse but not telling them the truth. Your eyes fall on him, and he’s sure there’s a hopefulness in them. You want him to be by your side too, but your friends are so close. He’d have to say something, anything to them to avoid looking like a creep. The script he’s trying to write in his mind for how that would go is just a blank white slate behind his eyes. 

So, he smiles. It’s a shy, half-hearted smile just for you. His bangs cover his eyes as he turns away from you. Your heart drops when he walks away. 

_

It’s been two weeks. Dante is there, every night, perched in his seat at the bar holding his breath as he waits for you to come through the door. You never do. His heart breaks more every night he doesn’t see you, and in the depths of his heart he can’t help ruminating on things touched but never held. On love that was in his reach but he let it go…

He doesn’t blame you, of course, if you’ve decided to give up the night life here. You’re not a dumb woman, so you certainly knew what would’ve happened to you that night if Dante hadn’t been there. Maybe you didn’t want to risk it anymore, but fuck Dante missed you. He didn’t even know your name but he missed you just as truly as if it was written on his heart. 

He’s given up, but only on the surface. Deep inside he’s in mourning. He tries to pick up girls again, return to his old life but he can’t. Every smile he’s given seems cold compared to yours. Just thinking about you makes something burn inside of him. He’s not sure if there’s some sort of devil instinct attached to this, after all his father was long gone before he could educated his sons on the ways being half-devils may change them. 

Dante is pretty sure he’s going crazy. He thinks he sees you everywhere he goes. He’s gotten so used to this phenomenon, he doesn’t believe it when he actually does see you. He blinks a few times, trying to clear the false image from his vision but he can’t. Instead you’re getting closer, and then you’re smiling. He realizes it’s really you when your hand rests ontop of his. 

“Hello stranger,” you smile softly. You’re trying to seem casual, but Dante can sense something else underneath it. Truthfully, you haven’t quite been able to get him off your mind for weeks. There was something about him that stuck with you. 

“Dante,” he breaths out. “My name is Dante.” 

You laugh, and he feels his heart racing in his chest from the beautiful sound. You sit down on the stool beside him and take his hand. You tell him your name shyly. It feels sort of silly to just be exchanging names with a man you’ve wondered a couple times throughout the weeks if you’d somehow fallen in love with. He repeats your name in a soft whisper. Dante is so happy to see you he almost feels like he could cry. Without a moment’s hesitation, he leans over to kiss you. You gasp against his mouth, and for a second he’s terrified you’re going to pull away. 

You don’t. Your hand cradles the back of his head gently, and you’re the one who deepens the kiss. Your plump, soft lips move against his like heaven. All the noise in the bar is muffled to his ears, and it’s like the two of you are the only people in the whole world. You’re cheeks are heating up as the realization hits you, and you pull away shyly. 

“I, uhm…” you swallow hard. “I’ve been thinking about you.” 

He chuckles and kisses your cheek before nuzzling his nose against the curve of your neck. You hadn’t expected him to be so affectionate, but you’re really loving it. It feels so good and so right. 

“I’ve been thinking about you too, baby,” he confesses. “I couldn’t stop thinking about you.” 

He presses a kiss on your neck and runs his hand up your back. You shudder softly, but lean closer to him. You only came here tonight in hopes of seeing him again. 

“Walk me home?” you ask, with the slightest lilt that hints to Dante that you want more. 

“Of course.” 

He quickly pays his tab, and then he grabs your hand to lead you out of the bar. As you begin leading him in the direction of your apartment, the two of your chat. Dante hangs onto every word that comes out of your pretty mouth. You tell him all about how you’d gone out of town for a little bit, and you spent the whole time wondering if you’d see him when you got back. You tell him about your job, your life, your friends. Every thing that makes your life colorful and full, and he hopes you’ll count him amongst those things. He’s never felt like this before. When he’s first taken to you, he was so determined not to touch your life and soil it. Now he’s hoping more than anything in the world to be welcomed with open arms. 

Finally, you lead him to the front door and you don’t even ask if he wants to come in. You just open the door and welcome him. He follows you without a second thought. The apartment smells like strawberry cream, and it makes him sigh happily. You close the door behind you and lock it back up. As soon as you’re in reach, Dante is grabbing your waist to pull you close to him. Your noses rub together before kissing so softly. Dante truly can’t believe his luck. 

“Baby, you’re so beautiful,” he whispers against your mouth. “I’m so happy.” 

You laugh, “I didn’t think you were so smitten. I mean, you never made a move…” 

“I didn’t think you’d have me,” Dante confesses. He kisses you again, “You’re too good for me.” 

“Hm, I think I can decide that for myself,” you chuckle. “Come here, let’s sit down.” 

You take his hand to walk him to the couch. You kick off your shoes before sitting down. Dante peels off his coat, and tosses it onto a nearby chair then he joins you. He moves in as close as he can with squishing you, and his breath is on your neck. You shiver from the tickle of air, then whine when his lips press against the same spots. Dante can’t remember the last time he cared whether he was bringing someone pleasure or not, but right now all he can think about is making you feel good. You rub his thigh and melt under his affections. Between his kisses on your neck, he’s whispering softly about how much he’s thought about touching you like this. 

“You’re so sweet,” you say softly. 

“What? Me? No, I–”

“You’re a puppy,” you tease him. 

“Hey! Don’t think–”

“A sweetheart,” you say before silencing his argument with a passionate kiss. 

Dante moans as you push yourself closer until you’re straddling his lap. His cock is straining against his pants, and you can’t help grinding against the firm bulge. Dante’s fingertips dig into your hips on instinct, and he keeps guiding you to grind against him. 

“Baby, you’re gonna get me all worked up,” he growls against your mouth. 

“I hope so,” you nip at his bottom lip. 

A low, rumbling growl rolls through his throat. In one quick motion, he has you on your back. His eyes almost seem to glow with the intensity of the passion burning inside. His hands are spreading your thighs and pushing your dress up before you fully comprehend the movement. It was so fast. 

“Let me–,” somehow with your pretty eyes staring up at him, he can’t bring himself to say anything crude as he would before with others. He swallows hard as he tries to think of a sweeter way to put it, “I need to taste you, please.” 

“Okay,” you blush. “I-I want you to.” 

As Dante tugs your panties off, you’re panting with desperate lust heavy in your lungs. He presses kisses on your inner thighs and you can feel his teeth scraping against your skin as he resists the urge to mark you up so soon. He spreads your thighs a little more, stopping only once to make sure you’re still comfortable with everything before kissing your mound. You gasp softly at the first contact, and the need erupts in your belly for more. Every breath Dante lets out tickles your folds in the most torturous tease you could imagine. 

“Please,” you whine finally. 

Dante smirks up at you but doesn’t leave you wanting any longer. His fingers spread your wet folds, and he lets out a satisfied hum. 

“So pretty, baby,” he whispers. “So fucking pretty.” 

His tongue pushes against your hole, teasing it a little before licking from your hole to your clit. A greedy groan falls from him as he tastes your sweet juices. That’s all it takes for Dante to give in to every bit of hunger he’s pushed down from the first moment he ever saw you. He’s lapping and slurping at your pussy like it’s the last thing he will ever taste. Truth be told, he’d be quite happy if your pussy was the only taste lingering on his tongue for the rest of his days. 

He has you right where he wants you too. Your back is arched against the sofa and your hands are tangled in his hair. You’d been so cute and shy at first, trying to hold back your noises. That had quickly changed when he had you coming undone the first time. As he lapped at you through the dull ache of overstimulation to force you toward a second climax, you started letting out desperate moans that would make a pornstar blush. You were begging for release, for more, and pleading for mercy all at the same time. Dante doesn’t stop until you’re so tensed up from the overstimulation that he can’t tell if you’re still breathing. 

“You still with me, angel?” he asks softly after lifting his head from between your thighs. 

You look down at him, cheeks burning at the sight of your juices glistening on the stubble across his face, then let out the breath you’d been holding. 

“I’m still here.” 

Dante chuckles softly before sitting up between your legs. There you are, laying underneath him all teary eyes and burning cheeks with your dress a wrinkled mess with the front pulled down past your tits and the skirt pushed over your hips. You look like a dream come true. 

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispers. You almost tease him for being soft, but the sincerity in his eyes makes you stop. Instead, you’re reaching out to let one hand rest on his waist and the other reaches for his cheek. He kneels down to meet the touch, purring softly at the way your hand feels so soft against his cheek. 

“I don’t understand why we’re so drawn to each other,” you confess shyly. 

“Me neither,” Dante sighs. “I just don’t want to fight it anymore.”

He carefully leans over you so he can catch your lips in a passionate kiss. He hopes more than anything that you can feel his emotions through this kiss. You’ll know how serious he is about this. He wants to be better for you. Maybe you can be a reason for him to keep living. 

You moan softly against his mouth and grab the hem of his shirt. You pull away from the kiss just long enough to peel off his thin black shirt and toss it aside. Goosebumps prick his skin when you drag your hands down his body. Your fingertips curl through his chest hair, following it to the strip that goes down the front of his pants. Dante grunts when you cup his cock through his pants. You palm at him gently before pulling out of the kiss, your eyes are so heavy and dark with lust as you look up at him. 

“I want you,” you say so confidently but he can see it wavering when he’s too speechless to answer right away. “Please.” 

“Oh, sweetheart,” Dante breathes out. He can’t believe someone is looking at him that way; with such tender affection and genuine desire. He rubs his nose against yours before kissing you softly, “You’ll have me.” 

Dante can feel the urgency in the way you grind against him, and pitifully plea for him. He had hoped to take a little more time to undress each other and kiss, but he can feel your neediness affecting him too. His cock is just aching as you keep rubbing it through his pants. He finally opens his belt and pushes his pants down past his ass. His erection slaps against his abdomen when it’s free. The red, swollen tip glistens with his arousal and it makes your mouth water. He’s definitely bigger than you’d expected, and Dante can see the sudden hesitation on your face. 

“I’ll be gentle, sweetheart,” he promises. “Or we can stop if you–” 

“No!” your cheeks burn from your own urgency. “I don’t want to stop.” 

“Good, I don’t want to either.” 

He slots himself between your thighs and grasps his cock. You whine when he drags the leaking tip up and down your slit. Little jolts of pleasure go through you every time the head catches on your swollen clit. Finally, he settles at your entrance and slides into you slowly. You whine as inch by inch fills you up. Dante is tense from resisting the urge to just slam into you. 

Finally, he bottoms out with one last thrust. Your fingers tangle in his hair and you take a deep, shaky breath as you try to adjust to being so full. Dante’s thumbs draw little circles on your hips and his forehead rests against yours. Deep inside of you, he’s twitching with the need to start moving but he won’t move a muscle until you’re ready for him. Your little pussy is already being pushed to the limit just having him inside. 

“Does it hurt?” he asks gently. 

“N-no,” you swallow hard. “I just…I’ve never been this full.” 

“You feel so good, baby,” he kisses you sweetly. “It’s so tight.” 

There’s a gentle silence that falls over the two of you as you adjust to this sudden intimacy. You share soft kisses and honeyed words until you finally tell Dante what he wants to hear. 

“I’m ready.” 

Dante’s thumb drags against your hip again, “Yeah? You sure?” 

“Yes, please baby.” 

Dante guides your legs to wrap around his waist, then he’s rocking his hips. It’s a slow, easy pace at first. He just wants you to get used to the feeling of him moving inside of you since he’s probably fucking you deeper than anyone ever had. He doesn’t want to hurt you at all. He just wants to make you feel so good, and he’s starting to see that it’s working. Your skin is becoming hotter against his, and those pretty eyes are just glazed over with lust as you look down to watch Dante rock into you. Your hands move from his hair to gently rub down his back, then they rest on his hips. 

“Is it feelin’ good, baby?” Dante asks softly. Your eyes are so dazed when you look up at him. Your pretty lips hang open slightly. 

“Really good,” you gasp. 

“Want me to go a little faster?” 

“Harder,” you plead, making Dante chuckle. 

“Alright, baby,” he grabs your thighs to pull you closer then your ankles are resting on his shoulders. 

He gives you a few slow thrusts to get used to the new angle, but then he’s giving in to what you both want. Cries of love and passion fill your apartment as he pumps into your quivering walls. He grips your thighs hard enough to leave fingertip bruises on your skin. Your wet skin slaps and your hole squelches with his quick, hard thrusts. 

“Fuck, Dante!” you cry out. “I’m gonna cum!” 

“Good girl,” Dante praises. “Come on, then. Cum for me.” 

Your couch squeaks and groans from Dante’s passionate pace. He lets his thumb start rubbing your clit, and you’re pushed over the edge. Heated waves of pleasure flow over your skin, leaving your vision clouded with static as you ride it out. Dante can’t hold back with the way you’re squeezing around him. You’re still in the throes of pleasure when he cums too. His cock throbs with every thick rope of cum. 

“Shit,” you sigh as you come down from your orgasm.

Dante gives in to the weakness of his legs and sits on his knees with his cock still pushed inside of you. He presses a soft kiss on your ankle and you playfully tap his cheek with your toe. He caresses you lovingly, still not quite convinced this isn’t a dream. 

“Would you believe me if I said I’m crazy about you?” he asks. 

“Yeah, of course,” you giggle. “I’m kind of crazy about you too. Even though we learned each other’s names like 2 hours ago.” 

Dante gently pulls out of you and finesses his way into laying on the couch with you on his chest. He presses a kiss on your forehead and runs his fingers through your hair. 

“I feel like I’ve known you forever. You’re so…I don’t know, magnetic feels corny to say.” 

You giggle as you look up at him, “I’ll happily keep you company while you figure it out.��

[performativezippers]

I hope you don't mind me asking but I've recently started on writing a fanfiction and I thought I had it all planned out and partly written but I often get new ideas or tidbits and then I have to add or change the already written parts. It gets frustrating and I end up not writing at all 😕

How do you plan what you write?

Oh great question! I do think this is very personal and what works for one person doesn't work for another. But here's some stuff I think you could try to see if it helps you!

Firstly, what about this process of going back/adding/changing feels frustrating? Do you feel like you're moving backwards? Is it delaying your posting schedule? Editing and revising can be part of the process, so you could try reframing for yourself that you're not going backwards, this is part of the writing process! Maybe that's all you need? But if it's feeling genuinely frustrating beyond just usual editing, then I have some ideas below for how to do less of it! Because we want you to be in a place where you can write!!

1--Are you writing something too long? Maybe you're losing some of the planned details because you're biting off too much at once. When I'm working in a new fandom, I like to start with a couple of one-shots that only have one plot point (Lucy is high on drugs, Kate is asking the internet for help) so I can really focus on that one thing, and on getting the voices/details/characters right. If you're trying to do a whole big plot, for example a big case or crime investigation, that's a lot of moving parts and you might want to scale down for now.

2--Are you changing character choices? Did you decide Jane is a pastry chef, and then you realize you want her to be a private investigator? That would be super frustrating to revise, and if that's the case, then I'd advise either (A) returning to the canon to more deeply root your character in the canon characterization of Jane, or (B) ignoring canon completely (lol) and spending more time daydreaming or imagining your fic. Write fanfic in your head of your fic. What would your pastry chef Jane do if she met Maura as lifeguards at a summer camp? During a crime? Out dancing? That often is what helps me nail down my characters--what is consistent between AU's of this person I'm creating? Who is she, fundamentally? That might help you make fewer changes later because it'll be more solid from the start.

3--Are the new ideas coming because you're bored of what you've plotted/already written? Are they ideas for new plot directions or for missing scenes in the plot you've already written? Those are fundamentally different problems.

If you're feeling bored: try starting without outlining and plotting. Maybe you're not a plotter but more of a panster (making it up as you go), and once you've outlined something you're feeling too constrained by it, so your brain is coming up with new things to keep you interested. This is what happens to me, and why I don't ever outline!

If you're going in new plot directions: this could be a for a few reasons. Maybe you're trying to make a long fic out of an idea that really only should be a one-shot (we've all done this!). Maybe you picked an idea you're bored with and you're spinning out new directions instead of ending the fic and starting something new from one of these new ideas. Maybe you started writing some domestic fluff but realized you want to be writing some hard-hitting crime! Ask yourself: is this idea for this fic, or an idea for a different fic?

If you're adding missing scenes: take a look at your outline. Is it plot driven, character driven, vibes driven? And then take a look at your new ideas for missing scenes. Are they the same? Different? Maybe your outline is all plot points (Alex goes here, Maggie punches this person, Kara finds this clue), but what you're adding is all character beats (Alex and Maggie have a long morning in bed together, Alex is sad). That would tell me that your outline simply didn't account for those character/relationship moments, and you're feeling like they're missing, so you're adding them. That's okay! I often go back and add things in when I notice in a re-read that they're missing, and next time you can make sure your preliminary outline has more of that stuff (and I have some thoughts about how to do that if you're curious)

Let me know if any of this helps, and feel free to send more asks with more specifics or specific situations if you'd like!

[optiwashere]

Are there any fics about Asheera and Shadowheart talking about specific scenes that the do in the fics? I was reading Bend to Break to Mend (10/10 will read again) and although it's implied in the text I.e "tapping Shadowheart's toe on Asheera's boot" I don't know if there is any out right discussion about it.

Id guess a reason would be Shadowheart being raised the way she was would make it almost impossible to directly express those desires but she must have said something right?

Hey anon!

Thanks for reading that fic, it's one of my personal favorites of my own work 💜 The third chapter still hits me emotionally, at least if I can stomach to reread it without wanting to make a million edits lol.

Bit of a long post.

If I assume you mean a type of setup scene — kink negotiation, discussing safety measures — then that's something that I think, personally, works better as allusion most of the time rather than as a fully written scene.

We know that they've discussed safety in the scene you're talking about, and I made sure to use that "tell" multiple times in that chapter to really highlight this. There's one point where I wrote that Shadowheart uses a "halting command" or similar language for the same reason.

Additionally, the CNC scene you're talking about is referenced briefly in chapter one as Shadowheart having shared the fantasy.

So it's not that they don't talk about this, but rather that I prefer to weave it into the writing instead of having a stock "Negotiation Scene -> Kink Scene -> Aftercare" sequence all the time where the characters go point-by-point about what they want to do.

That said, I've definitely had that kinda sequence! Her Private Shore, Make a Mess of Her, Rope Has the Finest Touch... maybe more? Some of the Kinktober fics are a bit fuzzy in my head lol. Her Private Shore at least is a fic where, like parts of Bend to Break to Mend, Shadowheart specifically talks about wanting to indulge in kink or various types of kink.

Otherwise, in shorter works, I tend to assume the reader will buy in to the type of scene as something they've discussed beforehand. Not that that can't be interesting to read, but it's genuinely difficult to thread the needle from "kink negotiation" to "sexy scene" in fiction. In real life, we can't allude to discussions or boundaries and we have to set them early on. In fiction, if written well enough, the reader can be led to believe that the discussion's already been had.

It's a very fine line that I try to walk between showing negotiation or safety setups all while keeping things spicy and fun. I don't wanna turn the erotica element into a "how-to guide" so to speak.

As for the last bit...

Shadowheart would have issues pushing for these things but is, in a moment of excitement for some reason or another, delighted to share fantasies that she might not have been able to indulge in before. In-game, if you have group sex with the drow, it's literally said that she has fantasies she's all too willing to express once she's in the moment. Asheera and Shadowheart don't wind up doing that, so it's generally part of the fic buy-in. But Shadowheart is also more open with Asheera in the fics anyways because I assume the readers are familiar with the game.

It's also not like Sharrans reject sexuality, but it's used as a tool rather than for pleasure.

So Shadowheart might not necessarily have trouble expressing sexual desire, but rather that she has a very skewed view on what sex is and that causes issues for her.

[burnitalldowndarling]

Fanfics getting Archive.org’d

I got contacted by the person who I thought was posting my fics at Archive.org. They were cordial and apologized, and we talked. First, they thought I had been the one to post my fanfics on Archive.org, and they were just linking to it because of that. Second, it’s now clear that they weren’t the one who did repost my fic. So I’m publicly apologizing to them (probably best not to post their name again) here for that -- especially since that person has apparently been hit with some harassment because of it. I always feel like I shouldn’t have to say this, but I’m old and keep forgetting that the internet has lost its gotdamn mind in the past few years, so: DON’T HARASS PEOPLE. JFC. I’m pissed off about this, too, but this person isn’t the one who put my fic up on another site -- and even the one who did it doesn’t deserve death threats. Because that’s happening. But I should’ve expected that people would do this, and I didn’t because I was so freaked out and angry, so, sorry again. I’ve apologized to this person privately as well.

And to be clear, I’m well aware that some people want their work saved at Archive.org, and that a lot of fanfics get archived there -- but I thought this was by the author’s choice. AO3 has two features that I (apparently mistakenly) thought would keep my fics from getting snapped by Archive.org: a little toggle in the preferences screen that allows readers to “Hide my work from search engines/indexing,” and the “Show works to AO3 users only” toggle in individual fic preferences. I’ve always had the former checked, but I’ve only occasionally locked my fics to the latter. I now know you need to do both to keep Archive.org trawlers off your fic.

I’m still thinking about creating a Discord for my fic instead. Probably won’t because I don’t really like Discord, but if I can’t keep my fic under my control on AO3 then I’ll need to do something else.

(For those who do not understand this, no, not all writers are grateful to have control of our work snatched out of our hands. Remember AO3 was created by and for writers who didn’t like our stuff being deleted or censored against our will... so I think it’s understandable that a lot of us would also not want our work copied or archived against our will, either. These are times when fic writers are getting shredded on Tiktok for likes, and our labors of love are training chatbots to make a profit. Being able to control our own work is pretty much the only defensive weapon we have.)

So again, to keep Archive.org trawlers off your fic (if that’s how it’s ended up there), you need to check the “Only Show Your Work To Registered Users” box in the post form, or the mass-editing form. If you find your work on Archive.org, you can (email link) request that it be taken down. Since I have hundreds of fics posted and only two seem to have ended up at Archive.org, I think some individual manually put those two there to preserve them, instead of just saving them to a private file or storage like most people do -- but Archive.org is public, so doing this to a fic author without asking means taking their work from a nice protective, “domesticated” site like AO3 and releasing it into the wild, without warning. If the person who put up my fics is reading this... yeah, don’t do that. If people want their works archived in perpetuity, let them orphan them or put the fics up on Archive.org themselves.

[espithewarlock]

Fun Facts with Espi!

So I'm writing this as I have officially loaded the last chapter of my Charles/Max/Pierre Soulmark AU into AO3 and I feel like doing a fic debrief?

I'm weird about a lot of things and long author's notes are one of those things so I'm here rambling on Tumblr instead. For those who may or may not be interested.

Anyways, writing this fic was a process. I had the idea a long time ago, stopped it to write the entirety of my Piarles Mermaid AU, picked it up again, paused to write 90% of the Carlando Coffeeshop AU that's a companion fic to the Mermaid AU, picked it up again, paused to write 'A Gift for a Gift' in a fever dream, picked it up again, paused to write some of an A/B/O fic, and then finally had the motivation to finish it.

(So, if anything feels disconnected, I'm sorry. I tried my best.)

Fun Fact #1 - The Brain Cells Discord chat was the first part of this fic I wrote and is honestly one of my favorite scenes. I just love the idea of all of them being chaotic horny gremlins in a private online space. (Also, my Google Doc is just called 'The Brain Cells')

Fun Fact #2 - I planned for this fic to be rated T, which is why all of the early Piarles scenes are all 'fade to black' kind of sex. Then Chapter 16 happened and all three got horny for each other. So fuck it, it's an Explicit fic now. I don't make the rules.

Overall I'm really happy with how this fic turned out. It's the longest thing I've posted and I did enjoy writing it. Write what you want to read and all that.

Fun Fact #3 - Speaking of, I don't post WIPs because I don't read WIPs. That's a personal preference and I have a ton of admiration for the authors with the confidence to post works in progress. That's awesome and I can't wait to read your fic when it hits Complete status.

I've just been burned one too many times by fantastic stories where the author stopped updating for any number of reasons, so I never want to be that sort of author.

If I start posting a chaptered fic that's not a snippet/side-story collection, know that the full story is written and will be posted pending editing and/or nuclear apocalypse.

So, for anyone who likes my stuff (???) and wants to know what's coming up, here's what I've got in progress, in no particular order:

The previously-mentioned Carlando Coffeeshop AU (with background Piarles). It's a companion fic (not a sequel) to my Mermaid AU, takes place at roughly the same time but covers a lot of the on-land activities and Lando being a disaster over Carlos. It's almost finished, pending literally half an epilogue, so if that sounds fun then come yell at me to finish it.

The previously-mentioned A/B/O fic. I honestly thought I would never be the sort of author to dip my toes into A/B/O but I was bit by an inspiration bug. It's a Maxiel fic (AU-Non-F1 drivers) with Max POV for the whole thing. There is also plenty of established Piarles and Carlando, with Lewis, Alex, George, and other familiar faces rounding out the pack. That's a much longer way off, sitting at maybe 50% right now, but the broad plot is outlined and I have scenes occupying real estate in my head.

A Max/Pierre kinda-soulmark oneshot. It's an AU in an interesting world that I want to keep exploring in prompt/snippet format. This one is actually finished, but I want to wait to post it until I have the time to respond and write the companion snippets & prompts I might receive from you lovely people. Or from my own head.

Companion oneshots to ~this~ Soulmark AU. I already have one completed that's Danny Ric POV that takes place between chapter 16 & 17. Basically, Daniel wants to be a good friend and comfort Max after the Saudi GP, busts into his hotel room, finds a mostly-naked Pierre, assumes that Pierre is cheating on Charles, then very rapidly has the truth paraded in front of him. (I mean, come on Daniel. Really? Pierre is so horny for Charles that it's not funny.) This one is also finished and will likely be posted in a couple of days.

The other companion oneshot I have floating around my head is Charles POV and is just PWP, filthy explicit sexy times between the three of them. If you liked Chapter 16, yell at me to work on this one next.

Another PWP explicit sexy times threesome oneshot, but this time it's Carlos/Charles/Pierre. Inspired by a comment I saw on that one pic of Pierre grabbing Carlos' chin during a press conference. You know the one. It's half-finished and I'd kinda like to have it done to post in time for kinktober. (There's bondage. It's fun.) I don't really have the inclination to ~participate~ in kinktober, but I figure there's no harm in increasing the general smut that's available.

Another chaptered threesome soulmark-AU, but this time featuring Lefrere incest! It starts off Pierre/Charles with a very platonic, brotherly Arthur being jealous (envious?) of their relationship/soulmarks. He pushes those inappropriate feelings down (or tries to) until he gets a soulmark that matches theirs. They all panic and have to navigate ~whatever this is~ together. This is also finished, but I know people are weird about incest and doubly weird about RPF incest. Honestly, I felt weird writing it but it was stuck in my brain and demanded to be written. If this sounds like something you'd read, let me know and I'll consider posting it.

Anyways, that's what I've got going on right now. If you've made it this far, congrats! (Also, why???)

Like, I'm still reeling over the fact that people not only read my fics? but leave kudos?? and comment??? It's so nice what the heck????

Again, I write what I want to read and it's mind-boggling that other people want to read it too.

If you made a comment on AO3 that you actually want me to reply/respond to, ask me here on Tumblr! I mostly lurk, but you might be able to drag me out from under my rock.

Fun Fact #4 - I'm very awkward about replying to comments on AO3. I do see them and am deeply appreciative for everyone who takes the time to comment. I just don't like increasing the comment count by replying. Something about that makes my brain itch. I love authors who interact with their fans directly in comments, I'm just never going to be one of them.

So, if you like, let me know your thoughts! Anything you want me to respond to about this Soulmark-AU? Who do you think Lewis' soulmate is? Is Max actually a full-time problem? (Yes.) Is there a particular fic in the list above that you're more interested in than others? Want to know what else I'm weird about? Ask away!

Do I need to write shorter posts? (Also yes.)

[universal-kitty]

    Quick explanation of my situation, for the comm post I’m about to make.

TW for homophobia, transphobia, racism, and a dash of ableism.

EDIT (11/10/22): simplified for readability.

    So back in November of 2020, I got into a fight with family. But the problems with them lasted years before that. To get into it for the context of this fight...

I’m the eldest child of five. One is my younger brother (who’s autistic and in his 20s), the other three are half-siblings of mine. The oldest of the three is also autistic.

My dad left me with trauma, and that’s all I’ll say on that.

The 3 half-siblings, however... Their dad is and has been the problem for a very long time.

He makes “jokes” about harming animals (cooking them). He “jokes” about threats of violence. He’s openly (if just privately, and “subtly” enough for some to shrug for plausible deniability) racist, transphobic, homophobic, and more. He’s the source of my rising panic involving religion. (Specifically Christianity.)

Has said shit like: “What’s a slur for Irish people?” Taught his daughters to call the yin-yang “evil.” Tried to teach them that evolution is fake. Trans people “have something wrong with them.” Black people are lying about being targeted by cops...and many, many more.

He “jokingly” threatened to burn my leg with his lighter. My mom tried to pass it off as him having “dark” humor. “He’s just like that,” she sighs. I also tried to warn them about him trying to kick our dog at the time, but I was ignored.

Currently, his oldest child...has found out they want they/them pronouns and to read more LGBT+ material. He tried to force them to throw it away.

Because of his attitude and my mother’s slack at caring for any of them, I had to try and pick up where she couldn’t. Where she was passed out, asleep on the couch (stayed up late watching Dateline or something similar), I was trying to help the kids find something to eat until she woke up to make dinner. I was the one trying to undo the harmful ideas their father was giving them.

My mom also had the habit of “forgetting” I was autistic. I had to explain to her multiple times that so-and-so thing is way harder for me than it’ll ever be for her. No amount of explaining did anything. She would always say I just needed to “try harder” and the anxiety would eventually go away.

.:.:.

    But... Enough of my family for now. The fight of November 2020.

    The “what’s a good slur for Irish people” question happened. I was making the foolish mistake of wishing I was hated openly, instead of quietly. Because the silent disapproval was eating me alive; I rather be hit, instead of frightened of the “what if?”

    As it tended to, my attempt to talk LGBT+ with my mother somehow got me to politics. Y’know, back in her day, everyone was able to talk civilly about things. Dems and Reps are SO black and white these days!

    I steered it back on track. Talked about how I didn’t want them to use she/her pronouns anymore; I wanted just they/them. And, a turn of events I didn’t expect... She blew up on me. (More or less.) Saying that “they/them” was a plural thing, not for a single person. I tried to explain the mystery person thing; “their pencil,” instead of “his or her pencil?” Amazingly, the idea of singular “they” did not register!

    I started crying. This caught my stepdad’s notice, and he did confirm what I already knew: I would always be a girl to him. I just hated my body. Oh, and did we want to come at him, next? Cause we hate him being religious, right?

    My boyfriend picked me up that day. And I never went back home. I’ve been living with him and his dad since.

    I did pick up more of my stuff... Only to get robbed a few months later; my suitcase full of clothes (plus my camcorder and mic for voice acting) thanks to the finicky trunk of my bf’s car. (No hate to him, obviously. I’m just bitter at the situation of what happened. Thanks for stealing all of my most treasured clothes, dickwads.)

    As offhandedly mentioned, I tried to get a job recently...and only was able to get a week of it done. Local Gamestop. I quit a week in because my anxiety was flying so hard off of the charts that he- my manager of the time- agreed that letting me go would be for the best of my mental health.

    ...All I get out of it is knowing my mother got proven wrong. I had to tell her thanks to her- for the first time ever- “accidentally” opening my mail when my first-and-only check came in. And she didn’t have much to say!! It’s almost like I told her from the beginning that it wouldn’t be easy for me! Huh, funny how that works. 🙃

    (But yes, I couldn’t have a “break” from work; I obsessed over everything, desperate to perfect it as soon as possible, and it was going to kill me before I got anywhere. I legit almost threw up before work at one point.)

.:.:.

    ...So. Which leads us to the present, more or less. Finally in proper therapy (I was on BetterHelp and that....was a regretful time), struggling to get SSI / Disability papers together because I feel I am unable to hold a job at this time, my mother lost my fucking birth certificate and I have to order a new one, I still have clothes I need to buy (especially replacements for the ones lost in the theft)...

November Update: Still in therapy, but it’s once a month now. (It used to be once a week.) This honestly isn’t sustainable for me; I need help more than ever to keep this going.

February 2023 Update: My dad is paying for therapy again, but this is STILL only once a month. This appt. schedule isn’t sustainable; I still need to change this.

   My life has been a mess. And if not for my friends, cousin, step-sib, and boyfriend, I... I don’t like to imagine where I’d be right now.

    So... The last part of this post. I life with my bf and his dad right now, yeah? Well... Thanks to bf wanting to skip out on a family wedding (that, not for the first time, I was about to be left out of; I was going to be left behind for the weekend while they flew out of state...if not out of country), that his dad blew up on him outta nowhere.

    He wants us out by April 2023, after a YEAR ago attempting to offer helping us get out of the house by helping to pay for a month or two of rent in a place, then letting go. Now we’re being forced out, regardless.

.:.:.

    So... Money from comms. If it’s important, this is what it’ll go into:

Apartment. Most important, anything it needs; from rent-help to buying furniture.

Food. For when his dad didn’t get enough or we’re getting our own groceries.

Clothes. I am desperately in need of them; a lot of my old clothes are being given away.

Therapy. I want to get back to at LEAST twice per month, if not once a week again. (Each session is $125)

Various health products. Vague, but I’m talking on like... Affording shampoo, pads, deodorant, toothpaste, a new toothbrush/toothbrush head, etc.

Streaming items. I want to eventually do streaming as an additional “job” of sorts... Especially if I- for some reason- cannot get SSI. Regardless, it would help to prep for that, and a potential YT channel. Any content I can potentially put to work in order to make money.

Comfort items. I’ll be honest: my mental health is predictably shit. So this goes on the bottom of the list for the reason of I wanna be honest... This extra space would cover getting bubble bath, bath bombs, a plush of my fave (G’raha; aka The G’raha Plush Fund), etc. to ensure that I can do what’s needed to keep from feeling horrible.

[any extra surprise stuff here]

    Wanted to have some transparency here, since... I know most donation posts do. And I desperately need help.

.:.:.

    I kept wanting to ask for donation help. But there’s never been a way I could make it...”work,” in my brain. I keep gaslighting myself into thinking this isn’t the worst it could be- this isn’t the bottom of the barrel- and it’s not fair to beg when things could be worse. Like, fuck, I can’t even say “0/1,500″ or something, because we don’t have a specific apartment in mind yet; we won’t know until sometime early this year. (edited for 2023)

    ...I want to cry. I’ve been trying so, so hard to keep my head on and be supportive for my working bf, but it’s not going to be enough. I NEED to be making some money if we’re going to live beyond April.

    Anything helps. Please boost my comm post if you can. Thank you.

[another-stark-sub]

“Are you in love with him?” - Tony Stark Imagine

Notes: I wrote and editted this in two hours instead of going over my notes. Was gonna be spicy fluffy but it just turned into fluffy, and one of the lines/paragraphs (smth like that i dont remember how long that segment was) is based on/inspired by a fanfic on ao3 I bookmarked. I think it’s debt-free, but I could be wrong.  Anyway, I hope you enjoy, and I’m so sorry im not on here more oftennnnn

- - -

“Of course I am. He’s Tony Stark.” You sighed, a weight finally lifted off your chest. “Who isn’t in love with him?”

Bruce blinked a few times, the confusion evident on his face. “Then, why don’t you tell him?”

You scoffed. These geniuses think they know everything, but they couldn’t see what was glaringly obvious to you. “He’s Tony Stark.”

The perplexed expression didn’t disappear from your friend’s expression. So, you explained further, “It’s already a privilege, beyond that really, to be talking to you, to any Avenger. To work with any of you is an honor, and to be friends with you” -you laughed- “it shouldn’t even be possible for someone like me.”

“Don’t say that. You’re amazing, too.” 

You tried to find any tick, any clue that he was lying. But Bruce seemed to really believe this. “I know I’m amazing.” You shrugged. “I’m great. I love and I care deeply, and I have a stable job. I have a place for myself, and I take care of myself.” You clicked your tongue. “However, you all, all  you Avengers… Forget out of my league, more like off planet.

“And Tony? He said it himself. Genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist. Add superhero, figurehead, public figure, ex-CEO, and savior of the universe. Bruce, I have confidence in myself, but Tony is something else entirely. No one is worthy of him or his affections unless they’re a god or another Avenger.”

It was hard to keep up with the statistical analysis you were trying to run. The literal one on your hologram and the one keeping your view of Tony in check. So, defeated, you sighed and leaned back in your chair. 

Bruce closed his own work and stood across the lab bench. “Weirdly enough, I’m sure none of us Avengers think that way.” After a few taps of his pen against his palm, he added, “Aren’t there fans making posts about you, too? Tony showed me the, uh, Instagram videos.”

You laughed. “Fan edits don’t make an Avenger. Saving the world does.”

He shrugged. “You help us save the world.”

“From inside Avengers Tower on a computer.” You took a deep breath. “Look, Bruce, I appreciate what you’re trying to do. But, I’m not telling him.” You shrugged and brought your statistical analysis back up.

You knew your own worth. You were worthy of an amazing partner and person. Tony Stark, though, was easy beyond that. You had accepted it soon after you realized your own feelings, and while they haven’t dwindled, you knew it was for the best. 

~ - ~

Tony had never resorted to this before. It was never a question of his ability to code. In the past, it was because he didn’t need a program or an AI to do it for him. He could always tell if someone was into him. He knew when Pepper was into him. The moment Rhodey gazed at him back in their MIT days. Every single reporter and heiress and model he slept with, he knew when their thoughts turned sexual or romantic. 

You, though. With you, he couldn’t fucking tell, and he knew it was because of his own feelings. Tony felt intensely for people before. Pepper, Rhodey, that one reporter all those years ago. However, with you, it wasn’t just that fluttery feeling in his gut or the immediate smile he can’t seem to stop when he sees you. It was the comfort he felt when he heard your voice or the softness he could feel in his heart when he saw a picture of you. 

It was like his entire life was full of panic, never resting, never stopping. But when you entered his life with a gentle smile and a quick wit, it felt like he could finally breathe. 

It was addicting. 

“Sir, I have the calculations.”

“Hit me.”

“Speech diagnostics of you and of Ms. (Y/l/n) are similar. Whenever you speak of her, 79.4% is positive and 18.8% is neutral. Ms. (Y/l/n) has  78.9% positive and 17.2% neutral dialogue regarding you. When she speaks of you, her heartrate increases by 4.6%, and similarly, yours increases by 4.1%. When speaking to each other, heartrate initially increases by 7%.”

Tony nodded. “How does this compare to other Avengers? I gush about Banner like a teenager.”

“Well, sir, while you and Ms. (Y/l/n) have high positive dialogue about other Avengers, all of them have at least a 10% decrease compared to each other. And heartrate varies depending on the topic of conversation.”

Tony snapped his fingers. “Am I excluding all non-super friends? Include any agents, co-workers. Pep isn’t an Avenger after all.”

Friday took two seconds and responded. “You and Ms. (Y/l/n) have a significant difference in speech diagnostics when talking about or to each other compared to any other Avenger, co-worker, and friend.”

When Tony remained quiet, Friday added, “Do you want me to repeat the results?”

“You don’t need to, Friday.”

“But you’re not doing anything with the new information. Would you like me to save these findings?”

“Friday,” Tony warned. 

There was silence as the love-wrecked scientist pressed his fist between his brows. Data and cold hard facts said yes, but was it right?

“Sir?”

“Yes, Fri?”

“Would you like me to play examples for you?”

He blinked. “Examples?”

“Yes. Of you and her talking about each other positively.”

It was an invasion of privacy. Tony shouldn’t. 

“Play examples.”

Before his rational mind could tell Friday no. 

“Are you in love with him?”

Tony’s eyes widened. This was too private. It might not even be about him.”Friday-”

“Of course I am.”

“-stop playback.”

“He’s Tony Sta-”

“Playback stopped.”

Tony scrambled. “What? No, wait, go back. Play it.” Screw rational. You knew he was a narcissist. You wouldn’t expect him to hear that and stop. 

“He’s Tony Stark. Who isn’t in love with him?”

“Then, why don’t you tell him?”

“... He’s Tony Stark.”

Tony started to fiddle with something on his desk. “What does that mean?”

Friday answered, “Dr. Banner asked her if she loved you, and she said yes. This means that she’s in love with you.”

Why did he program Friday like this? “I know that. I mean, those two lines. Why does me being Tony Stark stop her from saying something?” Was it the attention? Did you want some sort of normal life away from cameras and international gossip? Maybe it was the Avenging. Having a partner who was always out risking death wasn’t ideal. 

Sure, you could be in love with him. But you couldn’t be with him. 

“Maybe you should ask her.”

There were celebrities who were able to live normal lives. Some paid to have prosthetics for going outside of moved to a remote country to get out of the spotlight. He thrived off attention, but he could give that up. Avenging, he couldn’t give that up, but maybe he could cut back. Take a mission a month instead of one a week. Or maybe take more digital missions. He wasn’t just Iron Man after all. He was a genius, could hack into the Pentagon if he really wanted to. 

“Yeah,” he said. “Maybe I could talk to her.”

~ - ~

The moment you put your bag down on your lab table, Tony said, “You’re gonna be mad.”

You narrowed your brows. “What did you do?” You pressed your palm to your chest. “Oh my god, Peter overwrote my data, didn’t he? Ugh, I know he said he’s great at managing holograms, but really, Tone, you should’ve given him a tutorial before giving him access.” You brought up your holograms to check your data and analysis. 

“That’s not it.” Tony stood next to you as you looked through your files. “I did something that invaded your privacy.”

You tilted your head. Closing the holograms, you took a deep breath and slowly asked, “How?”

Tony flashed an embarrassed grin before sighing. “You’re gonna be shocked, too, so prepare yourself.”

You did not know where this was going at all. What horrible thing could Tony have done? Steeling yourself, you took a deep breath and nodded at him to continue. 

Tony cleared his throat. “Usually, I can tell when someone has feelings for me. People are obvious about it, but you? You aren’t. So, I had Friday do some analysis on our speech patterns. Me, being in love with you, was one of my controls. You and your dialogue regarding me was the main variable. 

“Long story short, I accessed some audio of you and Bruce talking, and you said that you loved me but could never tell me.” He glanced at you. “So that’s why I need to apologize.” 

Your expression didn’t change. No, that wasn’t it. You, at first, looked confused. Now, there was just nothing. No expression. No wrinkled brow in anger of flushed cheeks in embarrassment. Nothing. 

Tony blinked. “You can shout at me now. If you were confused about when to shout at me.”

You licked your lips before taking a deep breath. “Ok, that was a lot.” You pursed your lips then opened it. But, you couldn’t really think of anything to say. You didn’t even know how to feel. “So you know that I” -you pointed at yourself and then at him- “and that I didn’t wanna tell you.” You shook your head. “Wait, do you know why I didn’t want to tell you?”

A broken scoff left Tony’s lips. “Yeah. I’m a mess.”

It was your turn to scoff. “Wait, you’re a mess? That’s why you think I don’t want to tell you?”

“Among other reasons?”

Other reasons? 

You crossed your arms. “Ok, what other reasons?”

Tony looked offended. Still, he listed, “I’m surrounded by cameras, and everyone wants some privacy. Can’t get it if you’re with me. Then, there’s the Iron Man of it all. I went into a wormhole with a nuke. That was also all over the news. Then, there’s the whole daddy issues thing. I’m working on it, but it takes a while-”

He rambled on and on, listing reason after reason, and with each one, you felt tears well up in your eyes. It was a weird mix of heartbreaking, confusing, and enraging. The emotions built up slowly with each word that left his mouth, overwhelming you to the point that you couldn’t even say how it happened. 

But, as Tony paced and talked so horribly about himself, you somehow ended up in front of him with your hands on his cheeks. 

You only realized it when Tony stopped talking and when his breath touched your lips. “What?” he asked. 

You didn’t answer. You kissed him instead. 

It was a hard press of  your lips against his. It was short, and it wasn’t much. 

But by the way Tony gripped the back of your neck and pulled you back for another kiss, you’d think it was his first kiss. You knew it wasn’t. Not just because you knew he had kissed all sorts of people before you, but because he somehow knew how to make you gasp and melt into him. 

While one hand kept you steady, the other trailed down your back and pulled you closer to him. His lips moved fluidly against yours, pushing and pulling, and everytime he moved back, you chased his lips to continue the kiss, because the softness, the passion, the fact it was finally happening, was all too good. You didn’t want it to stop.

Your hands started to move. For someone so rich, his t-shirt was rough when you twisted it between your fingers and pulled it to you. Slowly, you trailed your fingers along the side of his neck. You rubbed your thumb along his pulse point, a reminder that this was indeed real. You were kissing Tony Stark, and- He was pulling away again.

Desperate, you leaned forward, reached around to hold onto his shoulder, and kissed the side of his neck. 

He let out a breathy laugh, and before you could suck on his skin, his stubble scratched your cheek. 

You looked up at him and giggled when his nose bumped into yours. When your giggles turned into a smile, he kissed you again, a soft and short kiss, before leaning his forehead against yours. 

His thumbs rubbed circles into your waist as you lightly scratched the back of his neck. He didn’t say anything. In fact, he seemed busy gazing at you.

“Speechless, Stark?” you teased. 

He laughed. For a few seconds, he just gazed at you, seeming to prove your point. Tony’s hand began to wander, from stroking your cheek to pushing back your hair. “More confused.”

Remembering why you interrupted him, you brought your hands to his cheeks again and held him there so he couldn’t look away from you. “You are amazing, Tony. That’s the reason I didn’t want to tell you.” You shrugged. “You’re too good for me.”

His fidgeting stopped. “Well, that’s not true.”

“Tony, you’re an Avenger.”

“Technically, you are also an Avenger.”

“You’re a genius.”

“Who can’t cook scrambled eggs.”

“You literally saved the universe.”

“After producing weapons of mass destruction for decades.”

You glared at him. 

He glared back. Then, he fought back. “I don’t plan on retiring.”

“Wouldn’t want you to.”

“I have severe PTSD, anxiety, maybe ADHD, all mixed with trauma galore.”

“And I will learn to help you.”

“I couldn’t give you a normal life.”

“I’d rather have you anyway.”

He opened his mouth, but you instead told him, “I’d rather have you than anything. As long as, well, for as long as  you’ll have me.”

He raised his eyebrow. “You sure about that?”

“Positive.”

Tony shook his head with a smile. “Cause, I’d rather have you for, well, how does til you get tired of me sound?”

You laughed. “Won’t happen. But, sure.” You kissed him again.You would’ve kept going, but there was something to settle first.  “By the way, Tony?”

“Yeah?”

“Is Friday recording right now?”

“Friday records everything. It’s in the contract.”

Friday added, “I record everything that happens in the tower.”

“Ok.” You could work with that. “I’ll forgive you for the invasion of privacy.”

Tony beamed, and you couldn’t help your own smile when he did. Still, you continued, “On one condition.” Your own smile turned devious. “I want evidence that Star Spangled Banner took my ice cream.”

Tony burst out laughing. He kissed you again, a deep kiss, and when he was done, he mumbled, “God, I love you,” against your lips.

[amyscascadingtabs]

this is sappy but whatever. i wrote most of this before the season started (which is why i come off as reasonable and somewhat mentally stable about all of this) but felt appropriate to post it now as a thank you. ❤️

i have vivid memories from the night b99 was cancelled. the news came late evening my time, and i had been editing fic and checked twitter and there it was. loud and clear. i don’t remember which site it was but the picture was jake and amy with their wedding cake and that made everything feel even worse.

i remember freaking out even though i had been prepared, because those last days before the news hit on tumblr were... panicked. but i still freaked out to the extent that i ran outside in my pajama pants and hoodie and blue plastic slippers and called my mom, and then i walked up and down the streets where i lived in the darkness and cried in frustration as she tried to talk me down. i remember there were random guys with motorcycles out? but i was too hysterical to care. i’m pretty sure i screamed something to my mom about ”HOW CAN BIG BANG THEORY GET A BILLION SEASONS BUT THIS SHOW GETS CANCELLED????”

i know everyone who was in the fandom at the time has their cancellation story. what played the biggest part in mine was the fact that i felt like i hadn’t had enough time. really, i had only just become active in the fandom, only just started interacting with people on here and writing my first few fics, but i was absolutely loving it. it was giving me happiness again after a long period of emptiness and depressive feelings. when it was cancelled, what made me feel the worst was the fact that i’d had so little time – to make friends, write fic and react to episodes together. i felt deeply jealous of everyone who’d gotten more.

thinking about it coming to an end now has made me remember that night and those feelings of jealousy. because i did get more time. i got three more years. that night, i remember asking for just one, for a half, for anything, and i got three years.

and these three years have been a whirlwind of emotions and feelings and episodes and debates and discussions and gifsets and fanfic and asks and having this as my safe space while pretty much everything changed around me in the outside world, and i just want you all to know that i have never taken a single day of them for granted. this show could have been taken from me before i’d ever gotten the chance to grow with it and alongside it, and instead it was part of my life for three whole years.

i have a really, really good memory (four time quiz champion anyone? just me?okay <3), and i remember so much of it in such detail, and it's so weird to think about how long it's been when it also feels like yesterday.

i remember my first comment on peraltiago parenting experience, my first episode-related fic, the insane high after the renewal, staying up all night to watch the wedding live. i remember writing fanfiction on the beach while on vacation in greece, on a plane to berlin, at home on my parents balcony late late at night. i remember the honeymoon episode title being released, s6 starting filming again, the excitement over every little piece of news and finding about the cast directing. i remember labor fic and christmas fics and when i scroll back to pictures of my paris trip in january 2019 it's interspersed with a billion pictures of andy at the golden globes. i remember lighting my fairy lights in my little basement room and watching season 6 in bed at 2.30 am if it was a big episode, and watching it in the morning before fridays in high school most days. i remember writing post-ep fics during classes and on my phone on subways and trains. i remember the s7 news, and the casecation nerves and debates, and fucking kissgate. being named "the class amy santiago" by my friends when we graduated and getting a little silver paper plate to show for it. i remember the first fic exchange and inventing julian and simon santiago and i remember meeting @johnny-and-dora and eating wagamamas in manchester and talking about how simon santiago was DEFINITELY on the stairs and buying a little fake plant that i named andy plantberg (he's still in a box somewhere). i remember writing fic during slow hours in the ice cream shop i worked at. moving and putting up my framed b99 poster in my own apartment (very much still up). finding out about trying and everyone going fucking crazy. infertility fic. melissa's pregnancy news. s7 promo and standing outside my job the very first day and texting siân "AMY HAS TO PEE!!!!!???" because that was in the promo and we knew there were pregnancy tests involved in the first episode. the crazy happiness of s7 finally premiering. everyone going crazy about jake and amy deciding to start trying and how i could quote the scene verbatim the next few days. the week leading up to trying, what turned out to be the last normal week before the pandemic. the fucking MESS i was after that. the following week and ding dong and crying with happiness. being dizzy with hyperfixation joy the following day and barely feeling aware of the covid pandemic for the first few days because i was just thinking about jake and amy having a baby. getting through the first few weeks mostly because of b99. admiral peralta and finding out we were having a BOY and not even being disappointed even though the headcanon had been the opposite for years because it was perfect. the iconic b99 quizzes. lights out and mac being born. somehow managing 475 days before season 8, coping together when we got the news about the final season, watching the cast do their final day of filming. the first stream being interrupted by a storm warning and cutting out several minutes because of course. getting to see parents peraltiago and MAC and the insane speed with which those few seconds were giffed. more b99 quizzes. the vow renewal. the finale.

i remember all of it and so much more and as much as my heart is breaking, i’m trying to remind myself that i could have gotten none of this.

brooklyn nine-nine has been such an important part of my life. and it always, always will be, forever. i could have lost it all that night, and instead i got three more years. if i'd known that when i was walking the streets outside my house in the darkness in complete panic, i would have cried with happiness.

so thank you. all of you. for everything. ❤️❤️❤️ for the friendships, the joy, the asks, the debates, the fic response, EVERYTHING. whether we've shared three years or one or less, just know that i'm so grateful.

have some random pictures i found and screenshots from my private instagram (which is inactive so don't bother) from when i started this hyperfixation. jesus lmao 😭😭😭😭 i am less insane now. no i'm not. but i express it less on instagram.

[evierena]

The Demon Brothers catching MC listening/Dancing to their songs

I know that Belphie’s song has been out for a while now, but I still wanted to write something to celebrate all seven songs were blaring on replay on my phone so, here it is. 

INTRO:

For this time around, MC (and Solomon) has somehow convinced Diavolo that in the human world, people felt more at ease with music, with songs that reflected the character of the singer and that could move their hearts.

So, to further expand this idea and to see if it could prove useful to his goal of uniting the realms, the Demon Prince entrust the task to none other than the demon brothers.

Now, with all the songs out and blaring all over the Devildom, MC had found themselves to be quite fascinated by a particular song they just couldn’t stop replaying.

And what happens when the author of said song catches MC singing and dancing along? Let’s see…

Lucifer

You were waiting for him in his study, so probably you shouldn’t have expected much privacy really.

But, in all honesty, how could you not sing along to Arcadia?

The music was alluring, and his voice was simply enticing, it compelled your body and soul to let go, to allow being embraced by Lucifer.  

So you did.

You had forgotten your headphones, so you just had your D.D.D blaring Arcadia on replay, and once the lyrics began, you started signing along, your already dancing hips gaining rhythm and sensuality as the song progressed.

And while you were having a blast, dancing and signing in Lucifer’s study to his song, he was right outside, with the door half open, staring at your figure.

He was as captivated by your dancing as you were by Arcadia.

His heart was both full of love and pride, although he would only publicly admit to the latter. Because, you already knew about the first. And that was enough for him.

In one of those twists and turns you did while dancing you finally lock gazes with the deep crimson irises of Lucifer.

But, instead of stopping all together, you were encouraged by his powerful eyes, and decided to continue signing without breaking eye contact.

Lucifer was amused to say the least, by your little show, and he started to approach you with slow, determined strides until you both were inches away from each other.

The atmosphere grew heavy with his proximity, and you found yourself lowering you tone, adapting it to a soft whisper only loud enough for his ears.

His hands found purchase in your hips, stilling your movements, and to your surprise he joined you in your quiet singing.

And like that, both enraptured, lost in each others eyes, basking in the others presence, the song ended.

Your D.D.D ran out of battery, and the study was suddenly filled with tentative silence.

Lucifer had a smirk in his lips and you were smiling, your hands traveled to his shoulders, and you reach out to him to close the final gap between his mouth and yours.

But just before sharing a kiss that promised so much more, you both were startled by a loud crashing noise somewhere in HoL, and then a series of cursing and screaming.

Let’s just say that the punishment for whoever it was that interrupted Lucifer’s and his human moment was… terrifying.

However, that night you received a visit from Lucifer.

“Why don’t you sing for me again, my dear?”

Mammon

Mammon had invited you to a night out in the casino, and for such a thing you had decided to doll yourself up a little in your room before going out.

That’s what you were doing, when Are you Ready? Started to play in your D.D.D and well, you started to dance in front of the mirror.

The song always managed to bring a big ear to ear smile to your face and it brought out your party self. You really enjoyed it.

The music was so fun and Mammon’s voice reached the best parts of your heart and soul. And the lyrics, in your opinion the lyrics were the best part, specially because you had been there when Mammon was writing them.

It just warmed your body and made you happy.

Speaking of Mammon, he was on his way to pick you up, when he noticed you door was open so he let himself in, just to found you dancing and singing to the mirror his own song.

A deep blush spread in his cheeks, his eyes not entirely comprehending that his human looked that happy, making funny faces and dancing while listening to his song.

Once you caught onto the figure behind you through the mirror, you could see that the fiery blush on your demon grew even deeper. And so did your smile.

So, in your Are you Ready? Induced state, you went for him across your room.

Mammon tried to stop you, but in all honesty, we all know he could never say no to you, not really.

So you brought him next to your still dancing body and spurge him on to do the same.

It took a few seconds for his brain to process the situation, but once he saw the true joy and affection shining in your eyes, he felt himself relax and follow your lead.

Fortunately, the song was on replay, and your speakers were connected to your D.D.D so finally, both you and Mammon fall into a semi party just dancing, jumping to the rhythm, singing along and enjoying the others movements.

Eventually, Lucifer appeared and order both of you to shut up, and in giggles, with your cheeks aching, Mammon and you sneak your way out of HoL, and once you were in his car, on the road to the casino, he put Are you Ready? Again in the speaker of the vehicle.

All the way, both of you sang to the night in the Devildom, him stealing glances at your ecstatic face, and you staring at him while signing using your D.D.D as a pretend mic.

Once you reach the casino, Mammon felt so happy and elated to have you right by his side while he gamble his money away, he actually did manage to win a small fortune.

You both were in a rush with adrenaline pumping and serotonin flooding your brains, you suddenly found yourselves back in Mammon’s room.

Where he catch your body with his, and he stared deeply into your eyes, showing off his white pearls, no glasses covering his eyes so you got lost in the beautiful, divine blue and yellow.

“I’m just crazy for you, MC”

“And I’m madly in love with you, Mammie”

Leviathan

You wanted to surprise him, ok?

It’s just, you really appreciated that he had gotten over his insecurities and power through the whole recording and making of the song. So you wanted him to know that it meant a lot for you and that you truly loved his song.

So you got a Ruri-chan cosplay from Akuzon, pretty much spending all of your savings in a really good one, made up from scratch a choreography for My Chance! And went to work

With all of this motivation you were in the planetarium, recording video after video to just make sure everything was perfect. Of course, it was not your intention to post the video, after it was ready, you were going to send it to him privately.

But, of course, when did things go exactly the way you wanted them to without complications?

Yup, pretty much NEVER.

Honestly, I couldn’t blame you either, after being dressed up, dancing for at least three hours consecutively, perfecting your moves, editing and deleting the unwanted clips, pretty much being exhausted AF, you just hit the wrong button without realizing and post it to the DevilTube channel you had with the brothers, besides sending it to Levi.

Well, good news: it went viral. Bad news: it went VIRAL.

Leviathan couldn’t believe his eyes when he saw the video.

You were so, so, so cute!!! And he couldn’t understand why would you choose HIS song to make such a good video? Like, why would you want something he made (with you in mind of course, but he couldn’t for his life say that out loud without combusting) a icky otaku like him?

So, after you realized your mistake you went to his room to clarify things.

Boy, was he flustered just by seeing you. Although you weren’t wearing the cosplay anymore, he couldn’t make eye contact without blushing furiously, stutter and imagining you in all sorts of different cosplays.

When you explained that you wanted the video to be something private for just the two of you as a token of appreciation for his song, because you didn’t want to make him uncomfortable, he understood and said thank you in between stutters and mumbles.

But you also said that you weren’t ashamed that everyone got to see you enjoying his song, almost as if you were bragging about him.

By the end of the day, he truly believed that you loved his song, and somehow both of you had agreed to make another video, dancing along My Chance! But as Henry and Lord of the Shadow.

“And I’ll be the one to make our cosplays!”

“Of course, Levia-chan”

 Satan

In all fairness, you hadn’t realized he was there the whole time you were in the library, trying to study but miserably failing the moment Read My Heart started to play in your earphones.

Singing softly, almost to yourself, your eyes unfocused on the textbooks in front of you, slowly rocking your head side to side, tapping your fingers as if playing the piano, you were enjoying Satan’s song.

You didn’t even felt the green eyes of the blond demon zeroed in on your form, and he wasn’t sure whether he liked it or not.

In the beginning he just followed the quiet noise because it was distracting him from his reading, until he noticed it was you, and after paying more attention to your voice he realized you were singing his song.

A faint blush spread on his cheeks, but his eyes couldn’t stray away from you unaware of your audience, you continued signing over and over again.

He felt warmth, feeling all fuzzy and giddy in the inside without showing much in the exterior, but the small, tender smile he wore in his beautiful face along with the pink in his cheeks said otherwise to anyone who looked.

Lucky for him, it was only the two of you in that moment.

So he decided to indulge himself in the adorable sight that was you, softly and inadvertently signing for him.

However, soon enough he just wanted to be closer to you, so he did.

Slowly, he approached you until he sat beside you.

That’s when you finally noticed him.

You stared at his eyes, and found a glint of amusement at your bashful reaction, but the tenderness in them and his own blush eased your nervousness.

You stopped signing, but he took one of your earphones and put it in his own ear, and then, he also started to softly sing along.

Wide eyed, heart throbbing and your soul melting at the sight of his deepening blush, you let yourself listen to his voice only occasionally adding your own.

Somehow, you ended up resting your head in his chest, and he used one arm to bring you closer, your earphone long forgotten, your ears capturing the sound of his heart in his chest and his soft singing.

After he ended one last time, you sneaked your arms around his midsection.

“It truly is a beautiful heart, Satan”

“And it’s yours, MC”

Asmodeus

On your way from RAD, you had passed by Majolish, and, through the window, caught a glimpse of the pink haired demon, dressing in what appeared to be another brand new outfit, posing in front of mirrors, being praised by a group of lesser demons.

You saw the practiced, smooth smile and postures Asmo was putting on, and couldn’t help but remember when both of you were in his room while you were trying on face masks among a bunch of other products, how carefree and relaxed he looked, how even his flashy and over the top personality had seemed to be calmed down a bit, and how he just enjoyed your presence and allowed himself to be engulfed in the comfort of the moment.

A tender smile sneak its way on your face, watching attentively as he continued on posing through the windows, and you started absentmindedly singing the lyrics of Pomade.

Not long after, Asmodeus locked gazes with you, and your heart flutter at the immense and dazzling smile he flaunted in his beautiful face.

So you continued on with your one-man audience performance.

He mantained eye contact through the mirror, and eventually he understood by reading your lips what you were saying, which brought a bashful blush spread on his cheeks that punch the air out of your lungs.

It should have been illegal to look that exquisitely magnificent. You thought it was fair since he was indeed a demon.

Finally, tired of not being right by your side as you made his own heart throb with such a gentle affection, he grab his bags filled with new products and gifts for the both of you to share, he made his way out of Majolish.

He found you waiting for him with a smile, open arms and sweet benevolence in your eyes, he almost melt instantly in your embrace.

Asmo, with a teasing smile said:

“Baby, you want my love?”

“Yes, I need your love”

Beelzebub

In the middle of the night, you and Beel had decided it was time for a snack. So now, in the kitchen, while you tried to keep as quiet as possible, you watched the gentle giant of a demon that was him, working to make the both of you a few sandwiches and some other snacks you knew he would eat the most of.

You both were sharing AkuPods, and you were in charge of the playlist for the silent raid to the fridge.

Suddenly, Hungry Six-Pack started playing. A fond smile formed on your lips, noticing that the demon himself didn’t seem to realize what was playing on his ear, so you began following the lyrics, making small movements to go along with rhythm.

You gained confidence, and a little mischievousness, so you boldly turned up the volume of your voice. Little by little, your dancing became more jumpy and louder.

Finally, while you were immersed in one of your twists and turns, you felt the warmth of a chest on your back and strong, gentle arms surrounding your dancing figure.

Giggling freely in Beel’s arms, you continued singing to your favorite song. It didn’t took you by surprise when you hear him behind you, joining your little display of talent.

Fortunately, you were able to discern the steps of someone coming over to the kitchen, and as you and your sweet demon scurried back to the safety of his room, the song kept on playing on your ears.

Once inside his room, you flopped into his bed, a wide smile on you, finally being able to see the pure adoration plastered in the orange haired demon towering above you.

“Forever?” he asked.

“Forever, Beel”

Belphegor

Late at night in your room, unable to sleep, your D.D.D screen the only source of light, you were absentmindedly reading a children’s book that you had downloaded earlier that day.

Still, dreams seemed to elude you that night, so defeated you stood up and went to your switch, to distract yourself with some doodling on your desk.

You put on your favorite soft playlist to further help you in getting sleepy.

Then Dreamscape started playing.

Firstly, your moved your head to the rhythm, then your fingers stopped holding your doodles and followed the lead, later, you started humming.

So, you let yourself be comforted by Belphie and his voice, staring through the window, unfocused on the bright Devildom moon, recalling the demon’s face and his gestures while you gave in and began singing the lyrics.

The soft music unexpectedly didn’t get you sleepy, if anything it reinvigorate you by bringing happy memories of the two of you, dissing Lucifer, sleepovers in the attic, some with Beel others not, stargazing, sleepless nights like the one you were experiencing right then just talking about dreams and their very weird, complex, simple or absurd meaning, or, of course, just basking in the others company in a comfortable silence.

Absentmindedly, you had keep on singing and what you didn’t know is that your favorite cuddle buddy was right behind your door, struggling to hide the blush on his face at hearing you sing his song, pondering on whether leave you be or demanding to sleep together.

In his own side, lost in his thoughts, he missed how your voice was approaching the door, you were also on a mission to find him to sleep by his side.

Once you both were face to face, it became obvious what had happened, so you let a small giggle leave your lips, and grabbed him by the arm, turning off the lights, forgetting the doodles in your desk and dragging him to your bed.

There, both of you snuggle closer until the maximum amount of coziness was reached. Limbs tangled between the two, Belphegor’s head ended up resting in your chest, his arms surrounding your midsection, while your hand played with his hair.

In the quietness of the atmosphere, you dared to once more humming the melody of Dreamscape, to your surprise, that earned you a tighter hug and a satisfied hum from the sleepy demon.

By the end, the only thing you could murmur, eyelids barely open and voice hardly understandable, was:

“G’night, Belphie”

As the seconds went by, you fell asleep without consciously hearing his answer, but your dreams were filled with that simple phrase and the face of the demon in your arms.

“Good night, MC”

Thanks for reading and have a peaceful week!

Here's a little playlist with all the songs and audios from Obey Me!

Atte.- Evie

Let's see if you can guess my top 3 favorites from this HC 👀

[hamburgerhelpersotherhand]

Infatuation P11

Joe Goldberg x Reader x Love Quinn

Warnings: Violent scene description, death.

Notes: Wow, this seems really out of nowhere to post. Anyway 🤪 I don’t want this sitting in my drafts anymore so I’m going to let you all know if I edit it before the next update. Just... take it.

I spent the better half of the day looking over my shoulder as I worked. Candace’s sudden reappearance isn’t going to be swept under the rug just like that... she’s a dead girl walking and I’ve never been a fan of the zombie genre.

By the time I was counting the money from the cash register, Love seemed to have grown a smile. Though, I could still see the sleep deprivation in her eyes.

“Will,” She leaned forward on the counter, perching her head up on her hand. “could we do something tonight?”

At that moment, I really wish I could’ve said yes. But... I couldn’t afford to get distracted.

“Maybe another night? I’m...” I thought quickly, placing coins down and counting.

“We need to talk.” She leans forward to catch my sight. About what exactly, I want to ask but before I can even get a word out, Forty walks in with his mouth open.

“Will, would you be a doll and help me with something.”

I don’t say anything, only thinking to myself: why here and now? Forty has some of the worst timing... and then I spot Candace. Right behind Forty, with a white smile I hated to see.

“Oh, Will. This is Amy.” Love gestures toward Candace and my stomach turns and probably does some flips while it’s at it. If I wasn’t so used to staring into the face of death, I would of probably thrown up by now.

But, there’s no way.

“She’s Y/N’s friend.” Forty finishes. I bite the inside of my cheek. No fucking way she’s here unprompted. I’ve been so incredibly meticulous about everything including my online presence.

I look to Love’s face and she seems to spot something.

“Are you okay? You look kind of pale.” What? She’s not going to ask if I’ve seen a ghost?

“Yeah— no, yeah. I’m alright.” I smile wide, wiping my brow as I do. “It’s just—“ I turn to ‘Amy’. “Is Y/N still in town?”

“I don’t know. That’s why I’m here.” She looks me in the eye. For a moment, I feel myself crack under the pressure.

Hold me back, I might just kill her now.

“What do you mean?” Love looks to her.

“I was supposed to pick her up the other day, but she hasn’t responded to my messages since.” Candace looks at me with those dead soulless eyes of hers.

So, she’s the mysterious driver. When did she start driving that type of car? Since she’s decided to pursue a career in stealthily ruining my life?

What the fuck am I going to do about her and what the hell am I going to do about you?

“Will,” Love suddenly says, bringing the conversation back and snapping me out of my thoughts. “didn’t you see Y/N?”

“Y— no. No, I know it was late by the time I got there, but I passed a bus on my way.” I remember the way your soft face felt in my hand. “Could she have taken public transport? Maybe a cab?”

“I highly doubt it.” Candace replies immediately. I’m sweating, but I’m trying not to lose my cool.

I finally finish sorting through the change, no doubt making some mistakes. But with that done and out of my way, I need an excuse to slip through the cracks.

“Listen, I’m sure she’s just disappearing again. You’ve told me she’s done it before, I don’t see why she wouldn’t do it again.”

Love shifts around, refusing to meet anyone’s eyes. “I’m calling Lucy.”

And there she goes. Love leaves the room after her statement, and I know she’s feeling worse. Why did you even bother coming back? You’ve literally disrupted everything in our lives... it’s going to be difficult to fix, Y/N. There’s no simple way around this, we just have to make it through alive.

~

Love remained in another room at Anavrin until it closed and the street lights turned on. She quietly spoke into her phone, observing the floor pathetically.

She spoke with Lucy openly, though she avoided the topic of your sudden disappearance.

The conversation eventually dies down, and she says her goodbyes.

“I need to show you something.”

Love sets down her phone and looks to Amy. She hadn’t noticed her enter the room.

“You surprised me. What is it?”

She continues once Love’s attention is on her. “I know we don’t know each other that well, but do you mind if we discuss it in the car?”

~

And just as expected, Forty’s one-off comment about needing help wasn’t easily forgotten by himself. I was dragged out of Anavrin rather quickly. Though, in a way, I appreciated the easy excuse to get away from such a venemous snake as Candace.

Forty never let up, no matter how obvious I made my lack of care, he remained just as motivated and just as annoying.

“Listen, this is probably my most prestigious and ambitious project to date.” Forty’s arm swings itself over my shoulder, bringing me in as he repeats the same garbage he always does. I’m glad to see that spirit remains.

“They’re wanting to make it into a movie, can you believe that?” Forty’s arm lifts itself, only to fall down on my shoulder like a pat on the back.

“I’d love it if you could... you know... help me out. A genius writer isn’t a genius without their ghost writers!”

That’s... not what that is, but I get his point.

When I looked at him, his eyes were wide and his bottom lip stuck out comically. He was pouting? No, it’s more of a puppy dog look. The lazy man’s pretty please.

I should have time for this, even if I’d rather stop by the nearest gas station and get you dinner.

“Earth to Will, I need you focused!”

~

Love wraps her arms around herself, feeling very out of place.

Amy continues to fumble with the lock, until she hears a click. She perks up and gives Love a nod.

The storage lockers were easy to access, surprisingly so. But none of this felt right.

“Wait.” Love says suddenly, halting all movement. “I don’t want to do this.”

“But you’re just a door away. Please, Love, you’ll want to see this side of him.” Amy pleas.

What side of him? The side that owns this locker she so happened to know about?

“No, I don’t. And I don’t care for it either.” Love says, though she looks unsure of herself as she fiddles with her bag. Perhaps a part of her would rather be unaware of something as vile as Any had dared describe in the car.

“Do you hear yourself? You sound ridiculous.”

“Ridiculous? Thats coming from someone with bold claims.” Love retorts. She catches herself for a moment, seeing a glimpse of someone she repressed long ago. She’s not that person anymore, she swore to herself she never would be.

Despite Love’s reluctance, Amy lifts the door up and pockets her bobby pin.

Hearing the doors roll up, you had expected Joe to step in. But he was nowhere in sight. Instead, you jumped at the image of Love and Amy, pinching yourself to truly believe they were really standing there.

You wanted to speak, to shout, to cry out... but your voice was far too gone. Your throat was hoarse and bone-dry.

“Oh my god.” Amy hurried, observing you inside the glass box. “You’re still alive— she’s still alive!”

Love remained silent, her jaw hung open in utter disbelief. Will... Will had told her you left.

He lied? Or Amy isn’t who she says she is.

But why would he? It... it must’ve been for a good reason, right? Will isn’t this kind of person, right? Maybe— maybe he got himself into something. Love clutched her keys between her fingers, her knuckles turning white as she focused her burning stare into the back of Amy’s head.

“Y/N. Can you hear me?” She says, hitting the glass.

You’re barely responsive, a mixture of dehydration and lack of nutrition hitting you all at once. The sheer excitement from seeing them took a lot out of you.

“We’ll get you out of there.” Amy states, turning her head to face Love.

Love jumps at her sudden movement, grip shaking as she stares into Amy’s eyes.

“Help me, would you?”

Love slashed her keys in Amy’s direction and she tumbles back. Without a second thought, Love does it again, this time catching her straight in the neck.

For a moment, Love realizes what she’s done. With the way you began to pound on the glass and the look of complete and utter fear Amy is giving her, it’s kind of hard not to. Love stares at her keys, stuck inside the side of Amy’s neck as a thick stream of blood flows downward. She grips her own neck, holding tightly as her mouth puckers like a fish out of water.

Amy doesn’t want her to pull them out—the keys- and Love notices that. But she does. She yanks the keys toward herself and watches Amy slap her hands down around her own throat.

She’s silent, surprisingly silent despite the gurgling.

Love watches Amy hit the ground and crawl toward her feet, all the while a pool of blood forms beneath herself.

When Love looks toward you, you’re curled up in the corner of your glass cage, arms covering your eyes as sobs shake you violently. She didn’t want you to witness this side of her, truly. But even more so, she had never wanted it to come out again.

However, Amy was a threat to the three of you. Love knew you were locked up somewhere, how could she not? She knew that Will— Joe- had done this in the past, but it could be different now— it could be better. A private detective isn’t just for show. But Amy didn’t have to get involved— didn’t have to go sniffing around and finding your location before she could.

When she notices you peek past your elbows, she feels her gut clench at the sight of the way you cower at the sight displayed by her feet. Watching someone bleed out is hardly a pretty sight and Love understands.

Knowing full well that she can’t turn back, Love wipes her keys and drops the rolled up door.