#help me they've taken over my brain

[miraculousbohemian]

ok but now, i understand I'm very well past ides of march but OH MY

Gabrielle, who's been saying "I'm not gonna use weapons to kill, words are my weapons" FOR AGES, goes on a fucking killing spree when Xena is unable to move. Like THIS IS WHAT I WANT

also love the entire fact of "yo you know the woman who murdered your husband? yeah, my kid has her soul lmao", we couldn't make the show nowdays honestly

[euovennia]

"what's so funny?" | task force 141

this blurb has been on my mind so much ever since it first appeared in my inbox and i'm so happy to have finally written it, my dumb little gen z brain couldn't resist. thank you for requesting, and as always, i hope you enjoy <3

pairing: youngest!reader x (platonic) task force 141

warnings: none

summary: the team gets curious when you seem to having just a little too much fun while scrolling through your phone. (based on this request)

The team doesn't seem to notice your small huffs of laughter at first, and if they do, they don't seem to give it a second thought. Why would they? You laughing at random videos on your phone had practically become second nature to them by this point. So, they remain quiet, each of them doing their own separate thing in the common area. Gaz reading some random article about sharks on his phone, Ghost and Soap watching some low-budget action film on the television, and Price busying himself with some random crossword from a book of puzzles he'd picked up for himself not too long ago. They don't bother to interrupt your screen time as you sit propped up in the corner with your phone in your hands. They've come to learn you're often far too enthralled with the minute long videos you religiously scroll through to give them more than a quick smile of acknowledgement. They don't mind, however, it seems to make you happy.

Even so, they can't help but each feel a little curious as your faint smiles of amusement turn into small fits of giggles that you can barely contain with a painful bite to your lip. By the time Gaz finishes up reading his article, you're practically bursting at the seams as you try to contain your laughter. He watches you from across the room with great interest as you give your phone screen another swipe with a swift movement of your thumb. He keeps his eyes concentrated on your smiling face, eagerly waiting to see your reaction to the video you're currently watching. He's glad he did, because he's first to witness the way your resolve practically shatters as you fall into a loud fit of laughter. Each of the men give each other a shared look before Ghost stands up from the uncomfortable couch and makes his way over to you.

He stops just a few steps shy of you, "What's so funny?"

You give yourself a moment to calm down and take in a deep breath before handing him your phone with a large grin. He watches the video, his brows knitting themselves together in a state of confusion before he looks back down at you once the short video is finished playing.

"You're kidding me."

You grab your phone from his hands and haphazardly place it back onto the small table before standing up and grabbing his wrist.

"We need to do that, now."

He lets out a grunt, "We're not fuckin'–"

He's cut off by you reaching forward and grabbing onto his wrist with a soft touch.

"Please? I really wanna do it."

His eyes flicker back over to the video that's looping itself on your phone before settling his gaze back onto you who's staring up at him with a dopey grin and hopeful eyes. He's found he has a hard time saying no to you nowadays.

He sighs, "Fine."

Your face glistens with delight at his words and you're quick to pull him away from the room with the rest of the team still being able to hear you say something like, "this is gonna be so funny!"

Price, convinced you've whisked Ghost away to take part in something diabolical, quickly gets up from his chair and makes his way over to your abandoned phone. He picks it up with a careful grip and watches the video that's still looping.

Soap is the first to speak up after a few moments have passed, "What was it?"

Price's face is one of pure confusion as he turns the phone to face the men awaiting his response, "It's just a slice of bread falling over."

Gaz's face lights up as he gets up from his seat, "I wanna see some bread fall over," He cheers before rushing off in the direction of where you had taken Ghost.

The remaining two men watch him scurry off before turning to each other, the eldest of the two looking exceptionally confused as he speaks out, "Is this meant to be funny?"

Soap shrugs, "I prefer the one where the bread is having flashbacks, but the original one is fine too."

Price gapes at the Scotsman, "Flashbacks?!"

[sungbeam]

nonidol!jeong yunho x f!reader

yunho might have been the superstar out of the two of you, but you have always been the center of his universe. (you — it's always been you.)

▷ genre, warnings. bffs2l, childhood friends 2 lovers, pining, popstar/singer au, swearing, fluff, humor, angst, hurt/comfort, kissing, mentions of alcohol, mentions of anxiety/nervousness, they physically cannot be apart for too long sorry they've got Attachment Issues low-key..., one kiss (is all it takes—)

▷ word count. 16.3k (guys,, this was supposed to be only like 6-8k i swear 😭)

▷ associated tunes. keep smiling (demxntia), gone too long (lullaboy), tear in my heart (twenty-one pilots)

a/n: hope u guys like this :'))) i had one of the scenes from here stuck in my brain for awhile and so i had to build the rest of the fic around it, and it turned into this monster, so uhm yes... also much love to @jaehunnyy tysm for reading thru it for me 💖

THE DAY YUNHO'S ALBUM hit the Billboard Hot 100, you knew that you were going to need a lot more hands on deck than just you, your roommate, and Jeong Yunho himself.

“There's not enough albums, not enough time in the day, not enough of you!” You exclaimed with your fingers shoved into your hair as you took in the landscape of chaos before you on your living room floor. “Yunho, why couldn't you be ambidextrous?”

His eyes widened, body frozen where he was shoving a slice of beef jerky into his mouth. “Mwe? Pwhy are pyu yellinh ap mwe por?”

“I'm not yelling at you; I'm just wondering why you weren't born with eight arms instead of just two.” There were simply too many albums for him to sign before his agent came to pick them up in two hours, and there were also too few albums for the amount of demand. You always knew your best friend would make it big one day, but you also thought he would have had a whole team by that time.

Technically, you were his team—you, your roommate Trinity, and Mingi who was at his grandmother's for the long weekend. Mingi was five texts away from driving back down to help you guys four hours ago though. But his family needed him right now, and Yunho was firm in ensuring Mingi didn't have to come down and help. We got this, he'd said. It'll be easy, he also said.

Sure. Easy.

“We can't just forge his signature?” Trinity joked in a sleep-deprived daze as she leaned back against the couch cushions. Her mouth opened wide in a yawn. “I'm kidding. Let's not ruin his career.”

Yunho swallowed his bite. “That would be nice.” He cleaned his fingers on the Wet Wipe he had handy by his thigh, then picked up his black Sharpie, spinning the writing utensil between his fingers. “Now where were we? Album number fifty-six—?”

This had taken place just four months after Yunho released his second album, Aurora. It had been nearly a year and a half since Yunho debuted himself onto the music scene, and it was about time people finally began to recognize your best friend for all that he was—multi-talented, charismatic, handsome (on some occasions; you wouldn’t let him catch you slipping up there, though).

Within the next year and a half, Yunho skyrocketed into further altitudes of fame.

There were plenty of changes that occurred, many evolutions to Yunho's team and additions to his discography, but you were always a part of it. Even with your own career dealings, you would drop anything to be there for him, and him for you. Between the morning show interviews and late night recording sessions, there were also the research presentations and study session pick-me-ups.

“Are you sure you don't wanna come with?” You asked from where you were stationed in front of the bathroom mirror, putting on the final touches for your look this evening.

You could hear Trinity's fingers clacking away at her keyboard at the speed of light through her open bedroom door. “I'd love to, but I unfortunately did screw myself over by procrastinating on this paper. Have fun though, and tell Yunho congrats for me.”

Tonight was the album release party for Yunho's third full studio album entitled Youth. It was something he had been working on for years now, only recently having become satisfied with the tracks he chose and produced for it. Due to his sudden rise in fame, the release party was said to be hosting a myriad of big name celebrities and figures in the music industry. And of course, you. You were no one special, in hindsight, but Yunho couldn't begin to imagine celebrating a milestone without you by his side.

By eight o'clock, you were ready to head out.

You bid Trinity goodbye as you hustled out the front door of your apartment and down to the street below. Yunho and Mingi and everyone else would already be at the party; you would arrive on your own via Uber. You wished you could've been with him to get ready like all the other times, but your schedule had been unfortunate as of late. You were lucky enough to have gotten off of work this early.

As you sat in the backseat of your ride, you anxiously fidgeted with your phone in your lap.

(You were, without a doubt, excited to arrive at the party. Due to yours and Yunho's ever-busy and ever-conflicting schedules nowadays—yours because of work and PhD candidacy stuff, Yunho's because of rehearsals for his upcoming world tour—it had been awhile since you were able to hang out in person. You missed your gentle giant of a best friend.)

A loud vibration from it made your heart leap into your throat, and your face lit up in the dark with the incoming notification.

rockstar 🤟: pls tell me you've left the house

You snorted and typed out a swift reply. If I told you I was still in my pajamas…

rockstar 🤟: then i would call u a liar cuz u don't go to work in pjs, weirdo rockstar 🤟: just getting antsy tbh rockstar 🤟: need my star here w me :’)))

You couldn't help the touched pout that came to your face. I'm almost there, don't worry. And who are you calling a star when that's you? He always got a little sappy when he was nervous.

rockstar 🤟: im literally not having fun here without u hurry up :// your phone: isn't this UR album release party 😭 yun, why aren't u having fun? rockstar 🤟: just hurry up your phone: aish okok 🤧 eta 8min mr. impatient

You knew it was the jitters making him say things like that. Once you got there, you hoped you could help reassure him that he could stop worrying for just a second to enjoy himself. Even if Yunho worried about the album and what people thought, you were just as nervous. You hadn't even heard the entire thing—he’d been cheeky and didn't tell you he added a song to it last minute, but you'd listened to everything else.

You just hoped that people would continue to celebrate him and give him the love he deserved.

When your Uber driver pulled into the drop off loop at the front of the venue, you thanked him on your way out and threw the strap of your small purse over your shoulder. Already, however, as you were met with the residuals of flashing camera lenses and frantic paparazzi calls just a little ways down the driveway, the anxiety slowly began to settle in the pit of your stomach.

You could see the celebrities going up the entrance with people asking them to pose for their cameras, to say a word into their recorders.

Immediately, you turned on your heel and began slipping your way to a side entrance. The last thing you wanted was for dozens upon dozens of people to be staring at you, wondering who you were and why you were important. There were definitely people who knew you—you were plastered all over Yunho's social media because that was just what best friends did. But compared to everyone else walking up that driveway? Not a chance. You were nobody, and that was ay-okay to you.

Just as you thanked one of the employees coming out the side door for letting you in, you felt your phone buzz in your hand again, this time with an incoming call.

You picked it up and squeezed it between your ear and shoulder. “You're gonna need to speak up—the kitchen is super loud.”

“You're here finally!” Yunho said to you through the phone. “I was starting to get worried.”

You chuckled as you ducked out of the kitchen and into the main lobby to get to the elevators. The party was taking place somewhere on the seventh floor… if you could get there without getting lost. “Hey Yun, do me a favor?”

“Sure.”

“Calm down, man.”

The elevator sang its arrival and you stepped inside to the sound of Yunho sucking in a deep breath, then exhaling slowly. “I am calm… wait, are you in the lobby? Let me come down and get y—”

“I just got in the elevator, so don't worry—and I really don't think you should be leaving your own party, rockstar,” you teased. “Man, Mingi and Hwa really pulled out all the stops for this place,” you marveled quietly as you gave the elevator carriage a thorough look. It was made of marble and mirrors, every surface polished and crisp, like that of a tailored suit if tailored suits were made of crystals.

“Yeah, it's really great,” he agreed. “Remember the release party we threw for Crescent?”

A fond laugh tumbled out of your lips as you stepped out of the elevator and onto the seventh floor. Your mind filled with memories of his debut album's release party hosted in yours and Trinity's living room with three extra large Domino's pizzas, root beer floats, and a cheap disco ball. It had been a party for four that night—you, Yunho, Mingi, and Trinity—but your friends didn't need the fancy shit to have fun. “Definitely leagues away from this.”

There was a bouncer at the far end of the hallway, and you were certain now that you were in the right place.

“I kind of miss it,” Yunho murmured. You heard the sound on his end shift, simultaneous to watching the doors in front of you crack open and see Yunho's head pop out into the empty hallway.

“I kind of miss it, too,” you said into the phone, your eyes locked on his and a smile blooming over your features at the sight of your best friend, in the flesh.

There was a tender gleam in his eyes as he took you in and said something in a low tone to the bouncer. He stepped out into the hallway, letting the doors behind him shut fully.

“Slowpoke,” was his greeting to you as he scooped you into his embrace. The smell of his cologne was something familiar and delicious, and permeated your senses.

“Worrywart,” you quipped back, wrapping your arms around him to reciprocate.

When you both pulled back, he kept you at arm's length so he could take a better look at you. “I can't believe you're calling me the worrywart! I do recall that one night when Aurora hit the Top 100—”

You silenced him with a look and a playful punch to his shoulder. You pressed your lips together to suppress a smile as he tilted his head back in a jovial laugh. “Quiet, you. For once, I can't believe you're more nervous than I am.”

He gave a sheepish grin, fussing with the unbuttoned collar of his dress shirt, adjusting the chain he wore on his collarbones so the clasp sat right at the hollow of his throat.

You softened. Oh, he was really nervous.

“This album's just big for me; you know that,” he said, almost like he was trying to brush it off.

“I do.” The two of you began slowly making your way back towards the party doors. “Though, I'm excited to hear this mystery song that you snuck on there. I'm sure everyone will fall in love with the album, just like I did.”

He peered over at you then, and you couldn't understand why you were unable to read his expression then. It was… different. “Really?”

You blinked. “Of course,” you replied automatically. “I mean,” you added, “it's you, Yun. What's not to love?”

Yunho seemed speechless for a second, but moments later, he was breaking into a soft-cornered smile. “You always know what to say, Yn. Come on, there are some people who are dying to meet you.”

“Dying to meet me?” You laughed as the bouncer let the two of you into the party.

The party room was a rented out lounge space with wraparound windows that looked out at the skyline in the valley below. The main lights were kept low and warm, illuminating strategic places throughout the space to highlight the prohibition-like interior design. It was something out of a 1920s speakeasy with its velvet couches and dark mahogany wood finishes.

Yunho took you over toward the side of the room to get food first. There was a variety of snacks and small bites on the buffet table, and there was a bar counter shoved into the far corner where a bartender served drinks.

“I've pretty much socialized with everyone in this room already,” Yunho murmured to you as he shoved his hands into his pockets and grinned. “Meaning I can bug you for the rest of the night.”

Your eyebrows shot up. “There has to be, like, fifty people here. We still have the whole party left.”

“Yeah, but I have more fun with you anyway,” he said with a shrug. He reached for one of the little serving cups that held a little roll of rice armed with a slice of wagyu beef on top, all wrapped together with a strip of nori. “Now these—these are fucking amazing, dude. You have to try one.”

You snorted, but grabbed one of the little cups. “How many of these have you eaten already, Yun?”

He tapped his cup against yours like he was clinking glasses together. He chuckled, averting his gaze. “We don't have to talk about that…” His eyes caught onto someone nearby, and he perked up, shoving the entire bite into his mouth so he had a free hand to flag down whoever it was. “Mmh!”

You nearly choked on your own bite as you watched your best friend, who's cheeks were stuffed like a chipmunk's, flap his arm around in the air to get this person's attention because his mouth was currently occupied.

You turned your head to see who he was waving over, and nearly choked again, having to cup your hand over your mouth to prevent rice from falling out. Your eyes widened an alarming amount. “Mmno—!” You mumbled through your bite.

“What? I can't hear you,” he snickered. “Hongjoong hyung! There's someone I want you to meet.”

You made a crazed gesture—no, no, I'm not ready! How dare you ambush me with social interac—you swallowed the food in your mouth as Hongjoong made his way over. You had never met the famed Kim Hongjoong—legendary producer, prodigy musician, favorite model to ever strut down the Paris Fashion Week Runway. He dropped off the grid for a brief three-month hiatus until he suddenly reappeared, but in your best friend's Instagram story. At some point, Yunho had met Hongjoong and won his favor. Then again, it was easy for Yunho to win over anyone's favor.

No one really knew why Hongjoong disappeared like he had, but some speculate it had something to do with his new relationship status: single.

You were always starstruck seeing Hongjoong on Yunho and Mingi's social media, as well as Hongjoong's own platforms. Tonight was no exception.

Hongjoong's hair of the season was a simple light brown that complimented his skin tone and the warmth in his smile. You were used to seeing him in more extravagant garb, but tonight, he chose something very simple, but chic like Yunho.

Yunho and Hongjoong clasped hands in greeting. “What's up, man?” The latter chirped, eyes flickering over to you as you attempted to behave normally.

Yunho gestured toward you, his eyes twinkling as he swept his arm around your shoulders to bring you forward. “This is Yn. Yn, this is Hongjoong. He's the one who produced the album—”

“Now, don't downplay your own efforts, Yunho,” Hongjoong cut in with a knowing look. “You produced so much of it on your own; I fine-tuned and made a couple tracks, but the rest was all you, man.”

“I always tell him he's far too humble,” you agreed.

Hongjoong sent you a smile, extending his hand out. “Great minds think alike, Yn. It's very nice to meet the person this guy doesn't ever stop talking about.”

You laughed good-naturedly and saw Yunho's flushed sheepishness out of the corner of your eye. You shook Hongjoong's hand with a firm, confident grip. “Nice to meet you, too. You're—you’re incredible, by the way. I remember when Yunho posted a photo with you, and I literally screamed his ear off over the phone.”

Yunho winced and held a hand up to his ear, as if remembering the physical sensation of that phone call. “Yup, definitely damaged my eardrum that day.”

“Well, thank you; I'm flattered,” Hongjoong replied pleasantly. “So I'm assuming you've probably heard as much of the album as I have then?”

“I'm sure you've heard the whole thing,” you said. “Yunho has withheld one of the tracks from me, but I've listened to all the rest.”

He cocked his head to the side. “Oh? Which track did—oh.” As he and Yunho made eye contact, you watched as a silent understanding passed between them, and Hongjoong's mouth tugged upward in a teasing smile. “That song.”

You blinked. “What does that mean?”

Hongjoong flourished his hand as if to wave away the thought. “He just wanted it to be perfect, so we were working on it up to the last second. Nothing terribly concerning.”

Ah. You relaxed, but the curiosity still lingered in your mind's eye. “I'm sure it's great, nonetheless.”

“Oh yeah, you're gonna love—”

“Oh-kay! That's enough about the song,” Yunho chuckled nervously as he grabbed your shoulders and began steering you away from a clearly amused Hongjoong. “Let's go say hi to Mingi, hm?”

You threw him a look from over your shoulder, but went along with him toward wherever he'd seen Mingi wandering around. “What has gotten into you tonight?” You teased, though, you also hoped to know why he was so jittery. He wasn't even this nervous about dropping his debut album.

Yunho showed you a bright smile, the same kind of golden-retriever expression that the media knew him well for. It would have been enough if you didn't know him. “Again, it's an important album to me. And the song I added last minute is on the deluxe version, so I wasn't really confident in putting it on the original release.”

“Ah,” you murmured. You reached up to pat the hand that rested on your left shoulder reassuringly. “I'm sure it really is a great song, Yun, and I'm not just saying that. You can make an awful omelet, but you can't make an awful song.”

Your best friend bursted into laughter at the latter comment, and your heart soared to see the genuine smile on his face now. That was your Yunho shining through. “You're right—if I can't scramble eggs, at least I can write a song.”

Over the next hour and a half, Yunho took you on a tour around the room, jumping from friend to friend to introduce you to more of his world. For the most part, however, it felt like an excuse for you to bond with all his friends in teasing him about something or other. But he seemed content enough to see you getting along well with the other people close to him.

He had met plenty of your friends at your work, so it was only fair that you got the same opportunity.

At some point while you were with Wooyoung and San discussing all of the rehearsals for Yunho's upcoming world tour, Hongjoong summoned everyone's attention to announce that it was time to listen to the album. It would be a rather casual affair with the Youth album playing in the background of the party, but you were certain people would minimize their conversations to listen in.

You craned your neck to peer around the crowd to see where Yunho had gone off to. “Wait, guys, did you see where Yunho went?”

Wooyoung and San joined your search, but quickly hustled you into a nearby booth to sit and enjoy the album with your drinks. “He'll find us,” Wooyoung assured you as the three of you slipped into the leather seats. “He wouldn't miss this.”

“He'll at least be here by the last song,” San said offhandedly, his eyebrows wagging up and down.

Your lips parted, your face morphing into feigned offense. “Wait. Did he let you guys listen to the deluxe edition song, too?”

“Maybe,” Wooyoung giggled.

San cooed at your pout. “Awwh, don't take it to heart, Yn-ie. It was supposed to be a surprise for you.”

You raised your drink to your lips, sighing before taking a sip. “Everybody talks about this damn song as if he wrote it for me.”

Unbeknownst to you, the two others at the table exchanged pointed looks between one another when you were looking away. It was a wonder how Yunho was able to keep this all a secret from you. Though, even San and Wooyoung knew how busy you could get nowadays, so perhaps it really was just that easy. Plus, they had all at one point or another been privy to Yunho’s feelings—

“Speak of the Devil,” you perked up at the sight of your best friend emerging from the crowd with the others—Hongjoong, Seonghwa, Mingi, Jongho (vocal coach and album feature), and Yeosang (PR management)—in tow behind him. “We were wondering where you had gone off to.”

Yunho grinned as the lot of them squished into the circular seating arrangement with you, San, and Wooyoung. “Sorry, had to go round everyone up. The album should be queued up and ready to go.” He chose to sit on the end of the booth to your right while everyone else filled it up from the other side.

You offered him a sip of your drink, and he gladly took the glass from you. “So San and Woo were just telling me about how their tour prep is coming. You guys are leaving—what was it—two weeks from now?”

He hummed, smacking his lips as he set the glass back down on the table. “Yeah, it should be just about two weeks,” he said. His arm came up to rest against the back of the booth seat behind you. “You know, you can still come to the first stop with us…” This was said with a very pointed look at you from Yunho, followed by similar expressions from everyone else around the table.

“And you know that day’s when my supervisor holds quarterly meetings that are mandatory,” you shot back. As much as you hated the timing, the day that Yunho and the team planned to fly to their first stop on his world tour, you were required to be present for a very important meeting at work.

The Youth World Tour was something Yunho had been looking forward to and preparing for a long time. Besides working on the Youth album itself, his working hours extended over the past year or so to get ready for this major milestone. You would definitely be able to meet up with them at one of the tour stops, you just weren’t sure which one yet.

Things at your workplace were a little rocky as of late due to shifting management, but you would play it by ear. For your best friend, of course you would make it work somehow.

Your ears pricked up at the sound of strings strumming overhead and your heart leapt out of your ribcage for a moment. “Oh my god, I love this song.”

“You and me both, Yn,” Hongjoong chuckled across the table from you, reaching over so you could bump fists with him, “you’ve got good taste.”

“You’re only saying that because you wrote this one specifically,” Yunho sputtered out a laugh while rolling his eyes.

“It’s a good message,” you said, picking up your drink to take a generous gulp of it. There was a little left at the bottom of the martini glass and you swirled the liquid around before handing it over to Yunho to finish. “I think this one will definitely make it onto my work playlist.”

Yunho draped the back of his hand over his forehead, setting the now empty glass on the table. “Wow, relegated to the work playlist. Is that all I am to you?”

“You are a mood maker,” you pointed out with a teasing smile.

“Bro, you're complaining as if Yn doesn't put her work playlist on for everything she does.” Mingi arched his brows over the rims of his sunglasses. (Why was he wearing sunglasses indoors and at night? You didn't know; he said something about looking cool.)

Wooyoung chuckled. “What? So let's say you're trying to sleep—”

“Yah, I have a different playlist for that! I'm not completely unreasonable.”

“Completely,” Yunho and Mingi said at the same time, then looked at each other with wide, excited eyes. They bursted out laughing at once, too, leaving you to deadpan at the two clowns to your eleven o'clock and three o'clock.

You sighed. “I hate you guys.”

That only made them laugh louder, spurring on the others to crack smiles and for you to do the same.

Yunho calmed slightly, his cheeks hurting from smiling. “Aw, you walked right into that one, Yn.”

“So you're saying you are, in some capacity, unreasonable—oh my god, don't hurt me!” Mingi shrieked as he shoved Yeosang's body in front of him like a human shield as you lurched forward and threatened to grab him.

Yeosang sent Mingi a dirty look as he wrestled out of his neighbor's hold. “Dude.”

“Jongho, protect me.”

The vocal coach popped the olive from his martini into his mouth. “If you can't handle the heat, hyung, stay out of the kitchen.”

You nodded, raising your pointer finger up. “Exactly.”

For the next hour, you and your friends shared good company and conversation, while also commenting on, praising, and enjoying the tunes from Yunho's Youth album. There were a good thirteen songs featured on the album, and while most of them were inspired by real life, you remembered the days and nights when Yunho would break out the white board under his bed to draw out a concept map of the storyline he'd created in his head for some songs. It was like a miniature Easter egg hunt for fans to piece together from album to album.

When the clock hit nearly midnight, you recognized the song that marked the end of the conventional album—track number thirteen, 22. It was a song that reflected and lamented on his early stages of adulthood, all the goods and bads, all the hopes and dreams he had left. It was something that tied the regular album with a satisfying bow, but you were also giddy to hear the secret fourteenth deluxe track.

But as his ethereal voice from 22 faded out, the same guitar chords from the first song of the album began to play.

Everyone at the table paused in confusion.

“Uhh, I thought you were revealing the hidden track tonight, Yunho?” Seonghwa asked from across the table.

Yunho tilted his body out of the booth to peer into the sound booth at the very back of the lounge, a furrow in his brow. “I thought I was, too,” he said as he stood up. “I’ll be back in a sec.”

Before anyone else could say anything, Yunho disappeared past the door to the sound booth. You frowned as Hongjoong excused himself to catch up with him, mumbling something about helping with any technical difficulties.

In retrospect, it wouldn't be the biggest deal if you didn't get to hear the song tonight. You would simply listen to it when the deluxe album dropped in about a week, but you wouldn't deny that you were a little disappointed. Everyone else at this table had already listened to it—why had Yunho not shared it with you yet? Did he think you would judge him or not like it? You didn't think you were ever so harsh a critic, but that would explain why he was so nervous all night.

Regardless, you remained positive.

When Yunho and Hongjoong returned to the table, the rest of you all looked on to them expectantly.

“Something wacky is going on with the system right now and won't play the file for the hidden track,” Hongjoong huffed. He passed Yunho a sidelong glance, and you saw how Yunho avoided his friend's eyes like the plague. “Sorry to disappoint, Yn.”

Everyone's attention whipped toward you, and you straightened like a deer caught in headlights. “Oh, uhm, it's no biggie,” you said. You glanced over at Yunho who, if anything, seemed guilty. Or maybe it was just something apologetic. “Really—I can wait for it to drop officially.”

You didn't like how the air seemed to shift during this exchange, as if all the other boys were sitting on the edges of their seats, faces morphed into mixed ranges of confusion and disbelief.

You cleared your throat. “Anyone want more drinks?”

As the night waned and the party came to a close, you found yourself being helped into another Uber car to head home. After the supposed tech glitch, the remainder of the party passed by without a hitch. At the very end, Yunho popped open a theatrical bottle of champagne for all his guests to close out the celebration.

The backseat door closed just as Yunho ducked in with you, his hand waving out the window to San, Wooyoung, and Jongho passing by along the curb.

The alcohol had gradually made its way to your brain, and there was a light buzzing at the base of your skull that made you feel all warm and fuzzy. You yawned, leaning your head against Yunho's shoulder.

He chuckled, one of his hands coming up to gently pat your head. “Tired?”

“Mhm,” you hummed as your eyelids fluttered closed. “You didn't have to lie, y'know.”

You felt his shoulder tense under your cheek. If only you could feel the rapid beating in his chest, then he'd be as good as done.

“I don't know what you're talking about,” he replied innocently, nimble fingers running over the chain links of his wristwatch.

Your eyes cracked open slowly. “Yunho.”

A beat passed, then he sighed. “Are you mad?” He asked quietly and his hand nearest to you found yours as he began to mindlessly inspect the chipped nail polish on your fingertips.

“No, silly. Why would I be mad?” When he didn't respond right away, you let out an exhale of your own. “I mean, I could tell you were nervous about me listening to the song all night. And if you weren't ready for me to listen to it yet, then I totally get that, and I'm okay with waiting. I just would rather you tell me that instead of make Hongjoong lie for you.”

He stopped playing with your fingers. “I'm sorry, for the record. Thank you for understanding.”

You hummed in reply.

The drive continued on with the accompaniment of a random radio station playing on low volume. You weren't going to fall asleep just yet with the alcohol still working its way through your system, but you kept your eyes closed nonetheless.

“I missed you, you know?” Were his first words to break the next silence.

A small smile wormed its way onto your face. “I missed you, too. I feel like we haven't seen each other in forever.”

He chuckled, the low sound rumbling through his chest and into your ear. “Texting can only take us so far. Isn't that crazy? We can't even survive a week without hanging out, but we're… we're about to be separated for so much longer timewise and distance-wise.”

You grumbled. “Don't remind me—wait. Has it really only been a week?” You peeked one eye open, a frown coming to your lips. “No way.”

Yunho smiled, shaking his head. “Believe it or not, stargirl. It's been only a week.”

“In-fucking-sane.”

“You're telling me.”

“How are we going to survive?” You pondered aloud, genuinely. If you couldn't fly out to see him within the first handful of tour stops, you and Yunho at the soonest wouldn't be able to see each other for three weeks. And if you couldn't escape your work duties and your PhD responsibilities, then it would be longer than that. “You're gonna have a closer relationship with your Valorant account than me.”

Yunho snorted. “I already have a closer relationship with my Valorant account than you.”

“Shucks.” You breathed out. “Guess I'll just text Hongjoong then. You know what he told me tonight when we were exchanging numbers? All eight of you nerds have a group chat and he gets ignored like a mom in a family chatroom.”

Your comment made a laugh tumble out of Yunho's mouth. “Did he make that analogy?”

“No, Seonghwa did when he overheard.”

A wheeze. “That tracks.” Yunho licked his lips as he turned his head slightly to glance down at you leaning on his shoulder. With his free hand, he warmed his palm over your head like he could keep you here forever. “So what's this about texting Joong?”

You shifted your position to get more comfortable and clung to his arm to press yourself closer. There was still a little ways to go before you reached your apartment. “I told him offhandedly that I wanna pick up a new hobby… something about crocheting or something, and apparently that guy is like… amazing at everything, so he's gonna help me out.”

“Ah.” The sound was quiet. “I'm glad you guys got along.”

You smiled to yourself. “Me too. He's really cool.”

“Not cooler than me though, right?”

You blindly reached over to pat his chest in warm reassurance. “Don't worry, big guy. I guess you're still the coolest guy I know.”

He clicked his tongue at you with a weak chiding, “Yah. You only guess? Don't tell Mingi that.”

“Oh, I wouldn't dream of it.”

The Uber eventually pulled up along the curb outside your apartment complex. You lifted your head up from Yunho's shoulder and woke yourself up with a good stretch of your limbs.

He helped you out of the car, handing you your purse when you finally got your bearings. “Are you sure I can't walk you up? You look like your knees are about to buckle,” he chuckled.

You shook your head. The cool evening air was helping your brain to sober up. “No, no. Don't worry about it—I’m not as drunk as that one year.”

“Dear heart, how could I forget,” he teased. “Mingi still has the recording of when you begged to be bridal carried.”

Your face warmed at his mention of that memory and you wrinkled your nose at him. “I was gonna say ‘I love you’ along with goodnight, but I suppose not.”

Yunho froze. “What?”

Maybe you really weren't sobering up, because you didn't catch his strange reaction. “Nevermind,” you said flippantly. “Love you, Yun. Good night. Get home safe!”

He seemed to unfreeze, his lungs filling with breath again. A soft smile melted onto his pretty lips as he looked on toward you with a warm fondness. “Love you, too. Good night, Yn.”

He remained where he was outside the car door as he watched you dig your keys out from your purse and open the complex door. When you had one foot inside, you stopped, and turned back to him with a big grin on your face. “Hey!”

“Hey?” He laughed.

“I'm proud of you.”

For the thousandth time tonight, you made him lose his breath, his hold on reality. He swallowed—he wanted to kiss you. “I love you. Get some rest, stargirl.”

You waved to him in reply and he waved back. Then you disappeared through the door and left him there, his heart full and beating fast, the longing in his chest weighing heavier than before.

When you and Yunho were thirteen, you spent the longest period of time away from each other for the rest of your lives. It measured to about one summer break long when Yunho flew to South Korea to spend the entire vacation there and you could do nothing but chat with him via good, old fashioned e-mail.

Now that the two of you were older, even a couple days dragged on like an eternity. And because of your clashing and stacked schedules, a couple days almost always bled into a week.

A week since the release of Youth marked the inevitable release of its deluxe edition and the ever mysterious fourteenth track.

“Yn, wait, can you just help me finish this set of primers?”

You were this close to escaping the lab before one of your colleagues caught you. Taking a deep breath, you resolved to turn back and help them out. One less thing to worry about later, right? You could still listen to the track once you got home.

Except you couldn't, at least not right away. You saw the email on the bus ride home:

Hello TAs! One of your peers has unfortunately been involved in a motorbike accident early this evening. We have been informed that they will recover to full health, but because they are hospitalized, we will need to redistribute responsibilities regarding grades and as to who will cover their TA sections…

You skimmed down the email's contents, knowing you wouldn't be the one filling in as an actual TA. Because you were a first year graduate student in your first quarter, you opted to start off with grading work for now. But even if you didn't have to deal with a whole section of undergraduates, you could feel the blood drain from your face.

“You've gotta be shitting me,” you said, then slapped your hand over your mouth once you realized you'd said that aloud. You mouthed a sheepish “sorry” to a parent and her child nearby, then ducked your head to look at the contents once more.

There was no way they wanted—no, needed—all of those graded by tonight.

This was cruel and unusual punishment, but you knew you were going to do it anyway.

By the time you finished grading, shoveled dinner into your mouth, and took a therapeutically scalding hot shower, it was sometime past two in the morning. Thank fuck it was Saturday.

It was less than twelve hours later that you settled into the passenger seat of Yunho's Lexus sedan with a pair of shades covering your dehydrated, puffy eyes from the world and whatever paparazzi was stalking his car. Yunho glanced over at you with barely concealed amusement. “Well, good morning, princess.”

“You can't see it but I'm glaring at you,” you grunted as you strapped yourself in with the seatbelt. “I can't believe you wake up before noon now.”

“Unfortunately,” he chuckled, peeling his car away from the curb. After an unsatisfactory six hours of sleep, Yunho had woken you up with the obnoxiously loud sound of your phone ringing. You managed to negotiate for him to pick you up in two hours rather than half an hour—and now here you were. You never truly considered yourself a breakfast person and you would have happily slept all the way to lunch, but even through the exhaustion, you wanted to see him as much as he wanted to see you.

He would be gone by the end of the week, after all.

You leaned your head back against the headrest. “I used to have to lure you out of bed with the smell of bacon. Remember when you ate that entire plate of raw-ass bacon and pancake batter that Mingi made?”

Yunho let out a loud laugh that made you smile. He glanced over at you. “Bro,” he sighed, shaking his head, “you know I'll eat anything. Oh my gosh, I will never forget the horrified look on your face when you came out of the bathroom and found out what happened.”

“You looked like a kicked puppy when I told you that you shouldn't have eaten raw bacon,” you snorted. You'd felt so awful that Yunho was such a good eater who didn't complain; he didn't have any negative side effects afterward, thankfully, but you swore to never let Mingi in the kitchen or to let Mingi feed Yunho ever again, so long as you lived.

There was a café a few minutes drive from your apartment complex that the two of you liked to go to. It was a little hole in the wall, located on the second floor above a pet shelter, and the entrance could only be accessed through the stairs in the next-door alleyway.

Yunho adjusted the beanie over his bangs and you shifted your sunglasses up to the top of your head as you entered the establishment. There were a few people seated in the area to the right, but something you liked about this place was its hidden gem quality. (And the drinks and food they served, of course.)

“Hi, welcome in!” The barista behind the counter called before ducking behind the espresso machine. “Give me two seconds, and I'll be right with you.”

“No worries, take your time,” Yunho chirped back as he scoured the menu, eyes squinting and tongue darting out to wet his lips.

You had a general idea of what you wanted already, and you let Yunho know what it was before slipping off into the restroom.

By the time you emerged from the back hallway where the washrooms were, Yunho had finished ordering and was standing by one of the open two-seater tables by the far window with the soft autumn sunlight painting over his features. For a second, you stood at the opening of the hallway, just admiring him. Perhaps it was the lack of sleep making you envision the sunlight dancing around him as he sat down in one of the seats.

Heat rushed up your neck as your eyes met across the café. Gazes locked, you stood frozen, but a smile bloomed on your best friend's face like the coming of spring. It was the most beautiful thing you'd ever seen.

And then he made a face, cocking his head to the side like a puppy with a question. 'Why are you just standing there?’ He seemed to ask.

You shook yourself out of whatever strange daze you'd slipped into, then walked over to join him.

“You okay?” He asked as you took the seat across from him, a teasing lilt to his voice, yet there was still concern in the curve of his mouth.

You waved said concern away. “Yeah. I think I'm still waking up or something.”

“Ah,” he nodded in understanding. He frowned. “What time did you go to sleep last night?”

“Like… some time past two.” On cue, you let out a large yawn, lifting your sleeve up to cover your mouth. “It's okay. I'll just sleep early tonight or something. One of the other TAs got into an accident, so we just had to do some make-up work and I just happened to get home late as it was.”

You could already see the guilt manifest on his face for waking you up, and you were swift to add, “I'll be fine with food and coffee, so 's alright. What about you? How'd you sleep last night?”

“I slept decently,” he replied, leaning forward to rest his cheek against his fist. “I didn't end up dropping the deluxe album, so it was a little more restful than—”

Your brain took a second to catch up. The… the deluxe album… oh. Your eyes went from half-mast to wide open. “You—you didn't release the deluxe? Sorry, I was so busy yesterday that I didn't check my socials.”

“Don't worry about it,” he said with a sheepish smile. “But yeah, I told my manager that I still wasn't ready to release it to the public just yet. I don't know when I'll postpone it to, but it probably won't come out until while I'm on tour.”

Ah. There was that disappointment settling in the pit of your stomach again. This wasn't about you, but why did it seem like he was avoiding your eventual listening to this song? He was almost always sending you audio files without prompting, so what made this one different?

Nonetheless, it wasn't your song. You would respect Yunho's privacy if he wanted to keep this one to himself and his friends.

You unconsciously rubbed your arm. “Oh okay. Yeah, I mean—take your time, Yun. I'm glad you don't feel pressured to release it when you aren't ready.”

His expression softened to something tender that made your chest feel fuzzy. “You'll listen to it soon, I promise.”

The barista called out Yunho's order number, and your friend stood up to go retrieve it. You sighed as you fiddled with the sleeve of your shirt and peered over your shoulder as a pair of newcomers asked him for his autograph and a picture. You watched the pleasant smile spread on Yunho's face as he conversed with them as easy as breathing air, alongside the faint blush over his cheekbones.

No, you didn't know what had gotten into you this morning.

“No, no. You have to loop it through this piece here—yeah, there you go.”

You were so concentrated on following Hongjoong's directions that you didn't even register the sound of Yunho's front door opening and closing. Hongjoong clicked his tongue and scooted closer so he could direct your hands and the crochet hook himself.

“Uhm… hey?”

Both yours and Hongjoong's heads whipped up at the sound of Yunho's confusion. He stood at the entrance to the living room area where, scattered all around you and Hongjoong, were clothes, toiletries, and other essentials laid out for Yunho to throw into his bags.

Tonight marked the evening before Yunho and the team were to set off on the Youth World Tour. Tomorrow, they would fly out sometime in the afternoon, which meant that you would have time to send them off before heading to work and class. However, because you hadn't seen Yunho since this past Saturday when he dragged your ass out of bed for breakfast, you invited yourself over to his apartment to oversee his packing. Hongjoong just so happened to be swinging by Yunho's apartment and you asked if he was up for an impromptu crocheting lesson.

Hongjoong arrived some time while Yunho ran out to the Chinese place down the block to grab dinner, and the two of you had been hunched over the ball of yarn and hook ever since.

“Oh, you're back!” You exclaimed. In your distracted state, Hongjoong took the opportunity to take the crochet piece from you and subtly fix the mistakes you made.

Yunho's brows creased, eyes darting from you to Hongjoong as he slowly placed the takeout bags on the semi-cleared coffee table. “Yeah… Joong, when did you get here?”

You leaned forward to help clear off the rest of the coffee table and to also assist in unpacking all of the takeout containers. Yunho shucked the baseball cap he was wearing off to the side, carding a hand through his dark locks.

“Like… seven minutes ago,” he replied cheekily. His mouth curled into something mischievous as he locked eyes with Yunho. “I can leave, though, if you wanted to be alone—”

“Hyung—”

“I'm messing with you,” he snickered as he handed you the yarn and hook. “I only came by to drop off the emergency backup files hard drive and to give Yn-ie a sneak peek of her crocheting lessons to come.”

(Yunho's eyes narrowed a millimeter. Yn-ie?)

You set the unfinished crochet square down on the couch to walk Hongjoong to the door. “Are we still on for tomorrow, by the way?”

“What's tomorrow?” Yunho twisted around where he was seated on the floor to watch you and Hongjoong make your way to the front door.

“You,” said Hongjoong with raised eyebrows at your best friend, “are going on a plane with everyone else. Because I'm not leaving until the day after tomorrow, Yn and I are bonding over lunch after we see you all off.”

You and Hongjoong finished up finalizing plans in the doorway, followed by amiable farewells. Yunho called out a “good night” to his friend as Hongjoong slipped out the door, and left you and him to the apartment by yourselves.

You claimed the spot on the floor next to him and accepted the pair of wooden chopsticks he extended to you. “I'm sorry if I wasn't supposed to invite him in. I probably should've asked,” you said sheepishly as you snapped the chopsticks apart.

“Oh, no, he's been over quite a few times, so it's all good,” he replied swiftly. “I just didn't expect you two to be so close.” He added a laugh at the end that sounded more nervous to him than it was supposed to.

“We've been texting back and forth, but I guess so. Nothing like the two of you,” you jested, lifting your eyebrows up and bumping your elbow against his.

Yunho grinned. “What's that supposed to mean?”

“You guys spend all that time together in the studio—WHA—NO! Keep those hands to yourself!” You shrieked, rolling out of the way to dodge his hands that threatened to tickle you into submission. Yunho had thrown his head back in a carefree laugh, a beautiful expression in itself, that had you reciprocating.

When you were sure he wasn't going to attack you (affectionately), you scooted back over to your original spot next to him. He smiled to himself at the sidelong glance you casted him, and he went and grabbed one carton of rice for himself and the other for you.

“Thank you for dinner, by the way,” you told him as you opened up your carton, his somehow already opened and spilling over with food.

You once again caught him with his mouth full, and Yunho swallowed the bite of food he had before replying. “Yeah, man. Of course.”

“I swear that I will definitely get the next meal we have—”

“Yn.” He touched the back of his hand against your arm to draw your attention to him. “You literally were the one to make sure I made it out of college alive, like, I can never thank you enough for how much you did for me then and continue to do for me now.”

You swallowed, suddenly blown back by the way he looked at you right now. “I did it because I care about you, Yun. It's not something I expect to be repaid for.”

“I know,” he said with a nod, lips pulled into a tender smile that made your stomach do flips. This was the look no one else got to see from him. Sure, he could fill stadiums of people who would see his big, bright grin that shone brighter than the sun, but… but this one, this smile, was yours. “That goes the same toward this meal, okay?”

Yunho notched his finger under your chin and tilted your head up slightly to meet his eyes. “Don't worry about it.”

You set your carton of rice and chopsticks on the table, he copied your movements, and you wrapped each other in your mutual embraces. The startling realization that you wouldn't see him for longer than a week from tomorrow onward rushed toward you like the coming of a tide to shore. Before you knew it, the water was up to your knees, and you—what were you going to do without him here?

“I miss you already,” you whispered.

You felt him squeeze you tighter, nose pressed against the side of your neck. “I won't be gone too long.” A promise.

“Thank god Seonghwa and Wooyoung can cook.” At the sound of his snort from above your head, you squawked out in your defense, “Who else is gonna make you bacon and pancakes in the morning when you’re dead tired?”

“Hey! I can fry bacon, I’ll have you know!”

You pulled away from him so he could see the look of pure disbelief on your face. “Okay, rockstar. I believe you.”

He scrunched his nose up at you. “That’s not very convincing.”

“I’m glad we’re on the same page.”

Yunho scoffed, reaching over to flick your nose. You let out a sound of indignation and rubbed your nose, a scowl on your face at Yunho’s very pleased expression. And even if you were currently conspiring on how to get back at him, you couldn’t help but resolve something right that second—you would do everything in your power to see his show in two weeks’ time—to see Yunho in two weeks’ time.

The thing about cheap plane tickets was that the cheaper you bought them, the less “amenities” that it came with. The one you’d purchased specifically for two weeks in the future did not allow you a refund. This meant that if something were to arise, you would be a good several hundred dollars poorer, and your plans to surprise Yunho at his show would fall completely through the floor.

Good thing you weren’t about to let that happen, right? …Right?

“You’re sick.” Those were your roommate Trinity’s first words to you as you stumbled out of your bedroom and found her perched on one of the stools at the kitchen counter. She fixed you with an unimpressed look as she stirred around her morning coffee.

“I’m not—” Your own response was cut off by one very untimely cough into your elbow. You wrinkled your nose at the metallic taste at the back of your throat. Great. “—sick.”

“And I’m Oprah,” she deadpanned.

“You could be.” Did you really sound as much like a dying walrus as you thought you did? Holy shit.

She stood up from her stool, setting her coffee cup on the counter, then walked over to you to direct you back into your room. “I’m not permitting you exit from this apartment until you're better. Back to bed with you.”

���But—”

“No buts! If you wanna still be able to fly by the end of this week, then you have to get better, Yn.”

You really, unfortunately, could not argue with that. Nearly a week and a half had passed since Yunho started touring. Opening night had been a massive success, as you’d seen the broadcast and read the reviews on social media. In the concert photos and videos slowly being released online, there was no doubt in your mind that Yunho belonged onstage. He was radiant as a diamond in each depiction of him, and he sounded better and better each night.

Suffice to say, you were beyond proud and happy for him.

In order to make your surprise successful, you informed Yunho’s team of your plans so they could help you get into the concert once you arrived. Your part consisted mainly of finishing all of your work ahead of schedule so you weren’t swamped when you got back. It was nearing the end of the term, meaning there was lots to grade and study, but when you had a goal, you were determined.

The only downside was that, between the long days and nights of work, your body couldn’t fight against the swift rush of early winter air that swept through the city in the past week. Your working hours stretched out longer and longer until your body just… gave up. Or at least, it was giving up.

After calling in sick to your workplace, you crashed back into bed for what you hoped to be a restful nap. Maybe when you woke up, this would all just turn out to be a 24-hour fever.

(It was not a 24-hour fever.)

You didn't even know what time it was when you woke up groggy and your head pounding like there was an active construction site taking place in your skull. Your bedroom was dark, and the world outside your window was also dark. The sound of your phone ringing drilled into your cranium, and you groaned as you felt around your mess of blankets and sheets for wherever that damned thing was—

“Hello?” You croaked into the receiver when you finally grabbed ahold of your phone.

There was a pause on the other end, and you were about to ask who it was when they responded. “Oh my god. You're sick.”

Your heart leapt into your throat at the sound of your best friend's voice and you shoved your face into the pillow. “I'm not sick.”

“Yn, sweetheart, you literally have the sexy sick voice.”

“You think I'm sexy?” You asked in a drowsy, unwell daze. “But anyways, I'm not—” You lifted your face into your elbow in time to practically hack out your lungs. You groaned. “Okay, maybe I am sick.”

Could things get any worse?

You could hear the frown in his voice. “You sound like my worst nightmare.”

“Am I sexy or your worst nightmare? You need to pick an adjective.” You whimpered as you struggled to pull yourself up into a sitting position.

“At least I know it did nothing to that attitude of yours,” he laughed. He sobered for a moment when he heard you groan as the blood rushed to your head. “Hey, do you have meds with you? I can order some and have them there in half an hour.”

You waved him off, even though he wouldn't be able to see. “No, it's okay. I should have taken an ibuprofen before I crashed. I'm sure we've got extra Nyquil around here somewhere…”

You attempted to stand up, a swear falling from your mouth as the vertigo hit you and sent you tumbling back down onto the edge of the bed.

“Yn, I'm sending you medicine—and dinner. That one bistro near your apartment is still open, right? I'll let Trinity know that deliveries are on the—Yn?”

You lifted your head and broke out of your return to unconsciousness. “Hm? Sorry… I did not hear anything you just said.” You rubbed your hand down your face and scooped your phone up to make your way out of your room. You somehow made it to the door, and you leaned against the doorjamb as you pushed out into the dark hallway. “You don't have to send anything, Yun. Trinity's studying for her law school finals, so I don't wanna bother her. Plus…”

You opened up the medicine cabinet in the bathroom and bit back a sigh of disappointment. No cold medicine. There was pain medication, at least, so that should hopefully help you fall asleep again.

At your lack of words, Yunho asked, “No medicine?”

“No, I have some medicine,” you countered. “Just—not the right ones.” Before you could swallow any pills, you hacked out another lung into your elbow; you swore your coughs were sounding worse and worse.

“You know what? I'm flying home—”

You slammed the pill bottle on the bathroom counter. “Don't—what? Yunho, do not fly home. It's literally just a little—” You coughed, “—cold. You have another show in two days. If you show up on my doorstep, I'm not opening the door.”

From the silence on his end, you knew he wasn't in total agreement with you. Maybe the bottle slamming was a little much, but his statement had surprised you. It didn't make sense for him to drop everything for you when you were experiencing something so trivial as a cold.

Not unkindly, you said to him, “I appreciate the concern, but you have bigger things to worry about and care about.”

“You will always be the most important thing I care about.”

His admission was so sincere that your heart gave a violent palpitation in your chest. You struggled to swallow, and it wasn't just because your throat was sore. “And I feel the same way about you,” you murmured, “but I can take care of myself, okay? I'll be back to normal in no time.”

You heard a sigh from his end. “I know; you're right. I just… wish I was there with you right now.”

You could understand that—it was how you felt. But some things couldn't be helped, and Yunho needed to be where he was and you needed to be where you were. You could hold down the fort while he was gone taking over the world by storm.

You closed the bathroom door to give an extra barrier between your voice and where Trinity was studying in her room. After knocking back a couple painkillers, you seated yourself on the floor with your back against the bathtub and your knees pulled up to your chest. “You know what's kind of ironic?” You coughed into your elbow and wrestled down another one bubbling up in your throat. You shouldn't have been speaking so much, but you could deal with the repercussions later. “I think I freaked out when you said you were going to fly home, not just because that's insane, but also because I was going to surprise you by flying out to your show in a couple days.”

He sucked in a breath. “You were gonna come surprise me?”

“Yeah,” you muttered, swiping at your nose and tucking your chin to your knees. Then you had to go and screw it all up, and you couldn't even get your money back. You pretty much accepted that you weren't going to be better by the time the day rolled around, especially not for travel. “I'm sorry I couldn't come see you.”

“No, don't be sorry!” He cooed. “I'm—I’m really sorry you're sick and I'm sad you couldn't make it, but… but think of it this way, hm? As soon as you get better, I'll fly you out to whatever city I'm in and we can hang out and you can come to the concert. All you have to do is get better for me.”

You didn't know if your schedule would allow after this setback, but you were going to remain optimistic. With a small glimmer of hope peering through your chest, you replied, “Okay.”

“Okay,” he said, and you could hear the fond smile in his voice.

“By the way,” you began, and had to clear your throat from how congested it was getting. Maybe some hot tea would do you good. You clambered to your feet to get out of this bathroom and do just that. “Was there a reason you called originally or was it just to say hi?”

A beat of hesitation passed between your question and his answer. “Ah…” There was a wince in his voice, “I, uhm, called because I wanted to know if you'd seen something online, but obviously you haven't 'cause you were asleep, but…”

Seen something online? Your movements with your electric kettle paused. Had someone posted something about Yunho? “What is it, Yun?” Who's ass did you need to beat?

“Seonghwa hyung found out that someone leaked the hidden track online a few hours ago.”

You leaned your cheek against your palm, eyebrows knitting together. “Shit, dude. I'm so sorry,” you said with a frown. That meant some rando on the internet had hacked into someone's files and leaked the song.

A sharp exhale from Yunho's end. “Yeah, I dunno. We're working on getting it taken down right now, but in the event it can't be done soon enough, I think I'm just gonna release the deluxe version in a couple hours.”

It seemed by his response that it wasn't the hacking that was his primary concern. Leaked, unreleased songs happened to every major artist in the industry, and it had most definitely happened to Yunho before this. But this time… this time felt different. You knew how hesitant he was to release this, and having the track get released to the public on terms that weren't his? Well, that just wasn't fair.

“You don't,” you said softly, reaching for a mug in the top cabinet to plop your tea bag into, “have to release it officially right now. You can still wait until you're comfortable.”

You heard sounds of shuffling on his end, followed by the sound of a door opening. You thought you heard Yeosang's voice as he murmured something to Yunho. The exchange was swift, but it reminded you that your time with your best friend here was limited.

“Do you need to go?” You asked, trying to cover up your hope that he didn't have to with nonchalance.

He hummed. “It's okay, I have a few minutes left. They want me to 'okay’ a couple things out on set, but that can wait. Uhm… as for what you said about releasing it—I,” he sighed, “I think this was the push I needed to finally drop it, y'know? I think either way I was going to be scared for—for people to hear it—for you to hear it. But uhm… yeah. That's all I wanted to say. I think it'll probably be released whenever you wake up.”

You poured the hot water of your tea bag, setting the kettle down gently. Letting the steam rise up to help clear your congestion, you could finally think a little clearer now. “I'm sorry this didn't happen on your terms.”

“I appreciate that. I hope you like the song—I… I really hope you like the song.”

A smile tugged at the corners of your lips. “I'm going to like the song, rockstar. You have nothing to worry about, I promise.”

He let out a small laugh and the sound of his happiness, however big or small, made your chest feel heavy. “I’ve missed you so much,” he rasped out. “So much.”

You pressed your forehead to your fist, willing the prickling feeling of tears at bay. “I wish I was there—I’ve wished I was there with you the moment you left. But I'm so, so proud of you. I know I've said this before, but you belong on that stage, Yunho. I'll be there… I'm always there in spirit.”

“You can't say that and expect me not to fly my ass home right now.”

You sputtered out a laugh, which was probably a bad idea, because it led to an utter disaster of a coughing fit. When you finally managed to get a reign on things, you picked up your mug of tea and took a couple ginger sips. It was still piping hot, but whatever scalding temperature it was at somehow soothed your throat and your head.

You set the cup down. “Again, I'll be there in no time, I promise.”

“You swear on your life?”

You sighed, but you pressed your lips into a smile. “I swear on my life.”

Yunho's departure from this call was imminent, and so you made further promises to get plenty of rest and to take care of yourself. You only did so when he promised to do the same for himself. Just after you both hung up, you received a text message from him: Stay up for five more minutes!! The delivery's almost there.

You huffed out a rough-sounding laugh, and bit your tongue around a smile. Of course he had still ordered you stuff. You shook your head to settle on one of the kitchen stools to nurse your tea and wait for the delivery to get here.

When the driver was safely out of bounds of your door, you poked your head out into the hallway to grab the paper bags seated on your doorstep. You had only expected medicine and maybe dinner, but not only were there cold medicines, orange juice, and hot soup from the bistro down the street, but there was a bouquet of flowers there, too.

Butterflies fluttered in your stomach as you pulled everything into the safety of your apartment. Damn Jeong Yunho and his gestures. It didn't mean anything—they were just Get Well Soon flowers, but why did you kind of wish they were more than that?

The Youth album's fourteenth track entitled your space hit the charts at number two. By the time you woke up, still sick as hell, the track had been officially released for about eight hours. You rolled over in bed to guzzle down half a bottle of water and cold medicine, then grabbed your phone.

It seemed that social media blew up while you were asleep. The deluxe drop was trending under a couple different tags, and based on initial skims, you were happy to report that most had everything good to say about it.

Though, some of the commentary made you pause. He has to be seeing someone, said one user. Look at these lyrics. These could only be produced by a man in love.

You had to swipe out of the app at that point. Instead, you went over to yours, Yunho's, and Mingi's group chat together where Mingi and Yunho had waged a meme war while you were asleep after Mingi wished you a “Get Better Soon” message. You sent back your own meme in response and opened your music streaming app to find track fourteen.

The boys would probably all be asleep by now, so they wouldn't respond any time soon.

You found your space exactly where you thought it would be, at the very bottom of the deluxe album. You sat yourself up against your headboard, plugged your earbuds in, then hit play.

If only you knew how much it would rock your world.

Hongjoong was never wrong about his hunches. It had been about a week and a half since you came down with an awful cold and couldn't make it to your intended surprise show, and slightly less than that since the deluxe album dropped. Even before the tour started, life was a whirlwind, but now that the tour was only ramping up further from this point, it had been nothing short of a total rush.

Different cities every week, at least two nights a city—all of it took a toll on both the staff and artist involved. Hongjoong's hunch, however, regarded the artist in particular as he watched said artist keep his smile up to say goodnight to the remainder of the stadium workers who lingered for cleanup. Yesterday was their last show date in this city, and today, Yunho and his team had come by to help load everything up for transport to their next destination. Tomorrow, they would fly out and be in the next city to begin preparing for the next round.

But as Yunho began making his way toward the exit where Hongjoong was waiting for him, it was impossible to miss the immediate exhaustion that flooded his features. He carded a hand through his hair as he checked his phone, then pocketed it in the back pocket of his pants.

“Hey,” Yunho nodded to Hongjoong as he met him at the exit and they both walked out into the chilly evening together. There was already a car waiting at the curb to take them back to their hotel—there was still so much that needed to be done before they left for the airport tomorrow.

“Hey,” he said back. “Everything okay?”

Yunho glanced over at him. “Huh? Oh, yeah. I'm fine; just tired. I think it's a good thing I started packing before we came here earlier,” he mused. For him to pack early? A miracle.

Hongjoong bobbed his head in understanding. “Yeah, I get that, but that's not really—you know you can be honest with me, right? I know this has all been… a lot.” And Hongjoong would understand; he had been in the public eye for so long now, and all of that could be so incredibly draining. From catering to fans and journalists and sponsors, it could be difficult finding himself amongst all that mess.

Plus, Yunho had the added bit of being away from home for a very long time. From what Hongjoong understood, Yunho only used to tour relatively close to home, and when it was farther, it was during his school breaks. He also knew that you were an integral part of Yunho's sanity, and that even before he reached this level of fame, you were his rock, his anchor, his ground control.

Being away from you for so long was beginning to show. When Hongjoong brought it up offhandedly to Mingi, Mingi was swift to agree.

“I—” Yunho began as he slipped into the passenger seat and Hongjoong into the back of the car. He murmured a soft greeting to the driver before strapping himself in with a seatbelt. “—it definitely has been hard,” he admitted with a sigh. “I don't know, Joong. You know that rush you get while onstage, but it just comes crashing down a couple hours later? Like the adrenaline leaves you all at once and all you crave for is home?”

Hongjoong pursed his lips, watching Yunho lean the side of his head against the window as he watched the world pass by. “Yeah, I do,” he said quietly. “The moments between all the rush and excitement, you're no longer distracted from how much it all is.”

A nod. “Yeah.”

“You miss her?” It was less of a question and more so a statement. Hongjoong's hunches were never incorrect. It was both a blessing and a curse.

Yunho's quiet was answer enough.

Hongjoong played around with the back of his phone case. He knew you had listened to the song—he’d asked Yunho and you'd texted Hongjoong, too. Yunho reported that you gushed about the song and affirmed him in all his choices and lyricism as always, but he was certain that you didn't get it. But when you had run to Hongjoong questioning your own feelings and if Yunho had been scared to tell you if he was in love with someone, Hongjoong could confidently say that you did get it, just not one hundred percent.

There was still miscommunication in the message, but he knew that was only something that the two of you could sort out.

“Have you guys talked since last week?”

“Yeah, we have. She's been…” He pushed a breath out of his mouth, “... She's been working her ass off trying to make up for the amount of time she was sick. I don't even know how she isn't getting sick again. I mean—all the shit she has to weather through—I wish I could help.”

And he couldn't, not like how he wanted to, not from so far away. Maybe that was what was eating him up inside the most, besides the fact he believed his feelings to be unrequited.

The car pulled up to the back entrance of the hotel Yunho and his team were staying at for the time being. The two of them thanked the driver on their way out, and they were swiftly greeted by employees coming out of the back for their breaks.

When they reached the warmth of their hotel floor's hallway, Yunho said to Hongjoong, “I miss her so much.” He shoved his hands into the pockets of his Youth World Tour hoodie, eyes lined in silver. “I worry about her so much, too. I'm sure she worries just as much about me and I know that she's more than capable about taking care of herself—’cause god, she was the one who kept me afloat all these years, and I—”

I love her.

He slapped his key card against the reader and shoved into his hotel room with Hongjoong trailing after with a sympathetic frown on his face.

“It just feels wrong sometimes when I can't be with her. Is that crazy?”

Hongjoong settled a warm hand on Yunho's shoulder as the latter sat down on the edge of his bed. “It's not crazy,” he said. He'd felt like that about a person, once upon a time. After everything Hongjoong had gone through with his last relationship, one might think he didn't believe in love, but he was still clawing for it. He wanted something that he could see manifesting between you and Yunho. He wanted to help you reach that.

He sighed and sat down next to him. “It's completely valid to feel this way, y'know? She's been a huge part of your life and your passions, and for you to see all this without her seems incomplete.”

Yunho nodded. “Yeah.”

“You can go home whenever you want, you realize that?” Hongjoong asked. “We have time built into each week to give you rest days, man. We can make that work.” It might be a little tiring for so much travel, but one trip back wouldn't hurt, especially when it could help his mental state more than simply powering through.

“I know,” he replied. “I don't… I just feel like I want her to see that I can do this, that she didn't put her trust and energy into someone who would fall so fast—”

“Do you seriously believe she would think about you that way?”

Yunho's expression shuddered, and he let out a shaky breath as he shook his head.

Hongjoong arched his brow. “Exactly. She would never fault you for needing a break. Being human is not a sign of weakness, Yunho. She's your best friend—I think she has more forgiveness and compassion for you than that.”

Yunho swallowed. Of course what Hongjoong said was right. You wouldn't look at him any different if he needed a break; it was just a thing about being kinder to himself. But sometimes it was hard to put that into perspective, and perhaps he just needed someone to do that for him.

With no good choice made without a decent night of sleep, Hongjoong bid Yunho goodnight.

As soon as Hongjoong slipped out of his friend's room, he sighed and mentally calculated what time it would be where you were. You should have been awake.

And awake, you definitely were.

You would be lying if you said you hadn't been listening to the song your space on repeat for the past week and a half. Even as you sat in one of the campus dining halls doing work and eating your crappy sandwich for lunch, your headphones were spilling with your best friend's gorgeous croons.

You questioned everything at the same time. You'd figured out two days after you first heard it that you were in love with your best friend.

The lyrics had resonated with you, and you had come to the startling conclusion that you felt the song's meaning toward Yunho.

All you could do since was freak the fuck out and tell Yunho that the song was incredible. You didn't know who the song was for or about, but you knew it was important to him because of how scared he was to release it. Had he been scared to tell you he was in love with someone? Why?

Sometimes you found yourself tearing apart the lyrics like a rabid trash panda.

I couldn't ever leave you behind They couldn't ever take me away Baby, if I could pick a heaven on Earth It would be anywhere in your space.

You broke away from your work and sandwich to the sound of a text notification. Suddenly remembering how loud your vibration ringer was, you silenced it, then opened up Hongjoong's message: I know you're probably moping and eating a shitty sandwich—what. You glanced down at said shitty sandwich that sat in its equally sad plastic container. How did he know…? —and he's not doing well either. He's miserable, dude.

Everything slowed for you, and it was no longer about your so-called epiphany. You felt your entire body and mood drop at the news. You'd seen social media posts commenting on Yunho's stage presence and brightness never fading, but there were always the one or two who noted something along the lines of him seeming too tired or that perhaps he didn't have enough stamina for this.

The latter comments made your blood pressure spike, but there was, unfortunately, some truth to it. You just didn't think it was this bad.

You pressed the backs of your knuckles against your eyes. You hadn't been doing the best, clearly, and you knew that it was largely because you missed him. Being away from someone you considered home for so long meant that you were bound to get homesick.

You didn't know what to do. There was so much work to be done, and you had just caught up. On top of that, you were short a few hundred dollars from the last time you tried to fly out.

Another message buzzed in from Hongjoong: I think you guys really need to talk.

The organ in your chest rattled around in its cage; it longed to be with its partner. You were starting to understand that now.

The song playing in your ear was slowly petering out, and all you could hear was his voice.

And I've kinda been wanting to ask if we can Skip the 'why’ and get to the 'our’ Because baby, I love your space But I love ours more.

Yunho had not flown home that week. Some emergencies had sprung up as soon as they landed in their new city, and all bets were off to be able to go home. All that he could do was buckle down and get comfortable. Even so, he knew how to make the best out of a situation.

As he stood at the very center of the main stage, he held a hand up to shield his eyes from the bright spotlights shining down on him now.

“Is that better?” Hongjoong's voice echoed throughout the near-empty stadium.

From one of the balconies, Jongho cupped his hands up around his mouth to scream at the top of his lungs, “LOOKS GOOD, HYUNG!”

“Jongho,” Yunho chuckled into his microphone, “did someone not get you a headset, bro?”

A beat passed, and then, “NO.”

Mildly amused laughter cropped up around the stadium in reaction to the youngest's troubles. It was little moments like these where Yunho could forget for one second just how tiring all of this amounted to become. His smile was genuine, and his tongue darted out to trace his teeth—

“Jeong Yunho, put your damn tongue away.”

Yunho's eyes went as wide as saucers, his expression morphing into something like childlike surprise as he immediately retracted his tongue into his mouth. But in the split second it took his brain to process the words that had been said, he also recognized the voice who'd said them. From the big screen, any one of the staff members or you could see the way his face stretched into the widest grin possible, his eyes lighting up like spotlights.

He lifted the mic in his hand up to his lips as he tilted his eyes up to the sound and lighting box far up in the stands. From where he was onstage, he could just make out the shape of you in the box next to Hongjoong—the sneaky bastard. “Ln Yn, get your ass down here right now,” he said, hardly able to contain the excitement in his voice.

You didn't need to be told twice.

You raced down the stadium steps from the box, your legs carrying you as fast as humanly possible without falling. Yunho leapt off the stage and left his microphone behind to meet you in the middle.

Somewhere between the pit and mezzanine, you flew into his arms and he caught you, spinning you around. The glee on both of your faces was enough to make everyone stop and appreciate the tangible love before them. Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes and you pursed your lips to subdue them. You squeezed him as tight as you possibly could; his arms held you firmly around your waist, head tucked into the joint between your neck and shoulder.

“You're here,” he croaked with tears in his voice now. You heard him sniffle, and only held him tighter. He felt the added strength and let out a sob. “I missed you so much.”

Oh, for fuck's sake—you started bawling like a baby. “I—” you sucked in a breath, “—I heard—so I booked a flight—”

This only caused his body to tremble harder. “Oh god… Yn… I…”

You sniffled and brushed your hand over the back of his head in an attempt to get both of you to calm down. “Hey, don't worry about it, okay? It doesn't matter; you know I'd drop everything for you.” When his only response was to press his wet eyes against the heat of your neck, you blinked away your tears. “Plus, I missed you, too, rockstar.”

Yunho let out a watery laugh, gently setting you down onto solid ground. You both looked like a hot mess and a half: snot dripping out of your noses, eyes red and drowned in salty tears. The adrenaline rush from the surprise had trickled out of your system, but your heartbeat continued to rattle around in your chest with reckless abandon. His messy, damp hair; the wobbly shine in his dark brown irises; the way he smiled at you with that something on his face… he was everything to you.

“Glad to know the feeling's mutual,” he said, nudging you with his elbow, then pawing at his eyes to wipe the tears away.

“Good to see you, Yn!” San piped up from the stage with his microphone. He had picked up Yunho's microphone from where he'd abandoned it to come meet you.

You laughed, lifting a hand up in a wave. “Hey, San! Hi everyone!”

Chimes of greetings from all the other boys and staff members cropped up from all around the arena.

Yunho brushed a hand through his hair and wrapped an arm around your shoulders. “Did all you fuckers know about this?”

Mingi was perched on the ledge of the stage. His grin seemed to be the widest after watching your reunion. He tugged the microphone attached to his earpiece closer to his mouth. “Don't tell us you're not grateful now.”

“Nah, I'm just surprised Wooyoung was able to keep his mouth shut.”

Wooyoung didn't need a microphone to let you all know of his offense. You could hear his squawk of disapproval all the way from where you stood—crazy how acoustics worked.

Yunho heard your laugh from beside him, and he glanced over at you to catch the fond look on your face. He hadn't stopped smiling for the past five minutes, and it didn't matter how much his cheeks hurt. You were here; that was all that mattered.

“This place is—” you marveled as the two of you began walking down the stairs together toward the stage. The backs of your hands brushed against one another, breaths away from touching, from lacing, from being together. “—huge. It's so much more—” You felt your lip wobble again, “I don't even know why I'm getting emotional. It's all you dreamed of as a kid, wasn't it?”

The tears pricked at the edges of his eyes again, and the two of you looked back at each other with equally wet eyes and bright smiles. “Yeah,” he nodded, swiping at his eyes.

“You deserve it.”

“All thanks to you,” he said with a sniffle, hugging you to him again. You were solid and real beneath his fingertips—he was so happy you were here. This was where you belonged; none of this felt right without you.

When you finally reached the bottom of the pit, Yunho had to run back up to the stage, and you went through the aisles until you found your perfect seat. It wasn't long before Mingi bounded up the steps to come join you. He brought you in for a long awaited hug of his own.

“What's good, Yn?” He asked with a soft chuckle as he pulled away and settled in the seat to your left.

Just ahead, Yunho appeared onstage with his microphone in hand, and the two of you lifted your hands in sync to wave to your best friend.

You adjusted your bag in your lap, and clasped a hand on Mingi's shoulder. “This is surreal. Does it feel surreal?”

Mingi's lips pulled into a smile as nostalgia made his vision cloudy. “It does, every single time. I'm glad you're finally here—we’re all very happy that you're here now.”

You bumped your head against his shoulder and let it rest there for a moment, and his hand came up to gently pat your head to tell you he understood. You didn't need to say anything.

For the next hour and a half, you and Mingi got to watch Yunho and everyone else run through the last of the day's lighting checks. Periodically, someone else from Yunho's personal team would come and sit with the two of you, then leave quickly when they had something else on their to-do list.

At last, when the session wrapped up and everyone was sent to go home for an early night, you rushed down to meet with Yunho again.

He waited for you to be at his side before leading you down toward backstage. “There's a couple things I need to grab in my dressing room before we can head back to the hotel.” A thought suddenly interrupted his thoughts and his eyes widened. “Do you have accommodations? Please tell me you do.”

“Don't worry—I promise I'm not sleeping on the streets,” you teased. You'd figured all of that out pretty last minute with Hongjoong and Mingi's help.

Yunho nodded, a smile coming to his face. “Okay, good. I was gonna offer my room and I could sleep on the pullout couch.”

The thought of sleeping in the same room as him made your skin warm, and if you hadn't realized your feelings for him before, you would be confused as to why you were so flustered at the thought now. It wouldn't be the first time you had a sleepover. But this would be… different. Oh lord.

The backstage hallways were scarce and dimly lit in order to save energy, but it was enough to guide you and Yunho's way to the star dressing room. You swallowed as you reached the door—the facade plastered with a pretty, gold star with his name on it—and followed him inside.

“Hey, Yun?” You asked him as you lingered by the door and he rushed around to grab his things. The room was decently spacious, and definitely larger than all the other ones from his past tours.

“Mhm?”

“Could we… talk about something?”

He glanced back over his shoulder as he threw things into his bag. “Yeah, ‘course.”

You toed at the polished ground, fingers twisting and wringing in front of you. “It’s about the song. The, uhm, the your space one.”

His movements paused. He looked up and connected gazes with you through the vanity mirror in front of him. Yunho cleared his throat and ducked his head to zip up his bag. “What—what about it?” He asked, shouldering his bag and meeting you back at the door.

He seemed unable to look you in the eyes directly now as he closed the door behind the both of you as you stepped out into the empty hallway.

“I just,” you stammered. Blood rushed up to your face and you could hear your heartbeat thundering in your ears. “I needed to know—I didn’t need to know—it’s your life and your song, and you have every right to have feelings for someone without me knowing. And I think I’m asking this for selfish reasons, but… are you seeing someone?”

The question caught him off guard, his eyes blowing wide open. “Wh—no. No, I am not seeing anyone. Why do you ask?”

“The song—I know I shouldn’t be indulging in what people on the internet say, much less in the opinions of those who don’t even know you, but I couldn’t help but agree with them when they say the lyrics, the—the feeling of the song—you’re in love, and I—” Your breath caught in your throat as you choked on the words lodged there: And I am in love with you.

Yunho pushed an exhale out of his mouth and stepped toward you. So much shone in his eyes right then, and it didn’t matter how much light there was in this damn hallway, his eyes would always glitter like twin diamonds. “I am in love with someone. Yn, I’m in love with you,” he said. “I thought that the song would make it obvious, which is why I was so scared for you to hear it, but I realize now that this was just something I should have said outright.”

Your heart fluttered in your chest and it wasn’t from the nerves anymore. God, your knees felt like buckling from the force of the tenderness in his eyes alone. “You’re—you’re in love with me?”

“I am,” he nodded. He slowly reached for your hands and clasped them within his own. “I’ve been in love with you since that day you ran out of Science Olympiad practice to come to my audition; I’ve been in love with you from the moment you yelled at me for not being ambidextrous and I had beef jerky in my mouth—”

“I did not yell at you!”

He broke out into a cheeky, yet fond grin, his hand coming up to cup the side of your face with his hand. “I’ve been in love with you for so long that I can’t imagine what life was like before I was in love with you—and yes, you did yell, but you can yell at me as much as you like, and I would still be head-over-heels for you.”

Your lip curled in on itself at all of his words, at everything he was revealing to you now. You wished you had known—oh, god, you wish you had known. You didn’t know if things would have been different, but for some reason, you had a feeling that all paths might have led here nonetheless.

You squeezed his hand between your own now. “You’re everything to me, Jeong Yunho,” you rasped out, unable to put strength behind your voice for fear of all of the emotion about to spill out. “And I’m so stupid for taking so long to figure it all out, but I’m in love with you, too, and I’d be damned if I let another day pass without you knowing that.”

Something washed over him in that moment, and he laughed, leaning over to cup the back of your neck and rest his forehead against your own. It was ridiculous, the fact that both of you were giggling and smiling at such a precipice of emotion, but it felt right.

You could feel the warmth of his breath against your lips as he murmured, “Fuck, I wanna kiss you so bad.”

“Then come kiss me, rockstar,” you said, looping your arms around his neck. You drew him down to your mouth and felt his body mold against your own. Every crevice and curve slotted so perfectly with one another, and the heavy longing in your chest slowly eased.

“You guys have been incredible for me tonight—” Yunho beamed as he walked toward the front, center stage and looped the electric guitar strap over his head to the sound of the roaring crowd, “—so I've got a little surprise for you.”

One of the staff members had set out a mic stand and bottle water for him, and he approached both items to fit the microphone into place. Tonight was the Friday night concert being held in this city, and the energy was dialed to one thousand in all the best ways.

He held onto the microphone with one hand. “This song is dedicated to—written for—my best friend in the world, the love of my life, my stargirl. I'm sure you know it—you crazies debuted it at number two on the charts—this is your space.”

His smile tugged up wider at the reaction he received. If anyone in the crowd didn't know the song, they were about to fall in love.

Yunho laughed, shaking his head, as he began checking to make sure his guitar was tuned with practiced, nimble fingers. “Oh, by the way—” he pointed up at the accessory he wore, the crocheted headband holding his hair up and out of his face, with a row of stars across its band, “—she made this for me. Isn't it cute?”

The stadium echoed in choruses of “aw” and cheers.

He could only duck his head with a smile, eyes twinkling with fondness and tenderness at the thought of you. You were in the crowd, but you could be up here with him in spirit. “Yeah, that was me, too.”

After you and Yunho left the stadium yesterday, hands intertwined and a new page in your relationship turned, you’d gone back to his hotel to share a restful evening in one another’s presences. You revealed later that night that you spent the four or five days you were bedridden practicing your crocheting skills until you were able to make him a headband. A row of three stars studded the length of it—stars for your rockstar.

Yunho struck his fingers down the strings of his guitar with a gentle rocking motion from his opposite hand to let the sound reverberate around the stadium. The crowd cried in love as his soulful, beautiful voice filled their ears with love of his own. And as his fans filed out of the stadium for the night and headed home, Yunho could finally return to his home. Because you were here now… no matter how far, no matter the distance, the two of you would always find a way to be in the other's space.

a/n: pls remember to reblog, comment, and send asks if you enjoyed!

atz m.list

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[charlietheepicwriter7]

I'm obsessive over my Constantine Jr Au (which still needs a fic name for, I'm open to suggestions) because

this is a cranky danny. he's spent years fighting with no end in sight, with parents who he can't trust and his only companions never truly understanding what he's going through.

he vapes CBD for the pain he's constantly in. he drank alco/hol once to help him sleep, but his parents smelt it on his breath and, just like with their research, took that to believe EVERYTHING they'd ever suspected about danny to be true: that he drinks, he does dru/gs, he's in a gang. the only thing they've never suspected their son of--being a ghost--is the one thing he actually does.

then, right on the cusp of eighteen and freedom, he gets outed. AND transformed into a seven-year-old.

this is not a danny who is willing to play at being a child. and if anyone tries to, they're in for a foul time.

Danny was 17, transformed into a 7 year old and hides in Bludhaven, and is 8 when the police finally figure out that, hey, this weird kid who keeps altering us to crime scenes is usually right on the money about who the killer is, we should investigate that. Officer Grayson is on the case!

And discovers that he absolutely can't STAND this kid.

He thought he liked kids! Everyone thought he liked kids! but this kid...

This isn't called the Constantine Jr AU because Danny is a supernatural detective, or because Danny might be Constantine's kid. Its because Danny is an unrepentant little bas/tard and he makes it everyone's problem.

Danny vapes and blows bubblegum smoke in Grayson's face.

He takes out a flask and Grayson's grabs it, learning its full of orange juice. Danny then takes out a second flask, this one with vod/ka.

He wears a trenchcoat he found in the trash (the same trenchcoat Nightwing wears in DC vs Vampires, if you know you know) but the end and the sleeves are cut off for his hands and legs. the pockets are roughly around his knees.

Grayson is desperate to figure out more about this kid, but he doesn't go to batman because, time-line wise, this is right before red hood starts running around. Jason is dead/alive-in-hiding, Tim is Robin, and Dick is mad about it. (ages-- Bruce: ? Nightwing: 24 Jason: 19 Tim: 15 Danny: 8 Damien: 7-8)

he doesn't really bond with the kid until they're both kidnapped by a gang for hostages, and Danny's big kid emotions get a hold of him (he thought he could escape them bc he's an adult, he's gone through worse, but nope! child brain chemistry). Grayson is worried that he's hurt and in pain, but Danny confesses that he's always in pain. he has nerve damage all over his body, and the only thing he really trusts is CBD. He feels like shit for taking his juul away, but more importantly, because he's been treating Danny like a irritant and just a little kid.

they get rescued and Grayson tries to take him back to his home, but Danny reveals he's homeless, saying something like "I sleep where it suits me, just drop me off whereever."

Absolutely not, Grayson is taking kid back to his place for a bed, food, and a shower, in whatever order the kid wants.

Danny stays semi-perminantly at his apartment, but Nightwing tries not to push it, because this kid practically screams flight risk. unfortunately, the paparazzi have nothing better to do and snap a pick of Grayson and Danny getting dinner together, speculating that Dick's taken after Bruce

Danny doesn't care too much; I think his ghost form is the same, if glitchy, so his parents don't know about the deaging. Grayson is mildly panicking, but its not like he HASN'T been considering adopting the evil troglodyte. Even Bruce, Tim, and Alfred aren't the problem.

No, the problem is the Red Hood, a crime boss who just cut 8 people's heads off, seeing what looks like Nightwing pulling an innocent kid into the neverending fight against crime and Seeing Green.

Edit: Had to censor sh!t because ths wasn't showing up in the tags

[wiliowisp]

Sebastian Sallow Headcanons | Pt.3

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

A/N: i promised you nsfw headcanons and they've been eating away at my brain since! as always, characters are aged up 18+, and this is just a little bit of fun!

What Sebastian is like in bed (18+ only):

➻ he is a switch through and through, but naturally bottom-leaning. sebastian enjoys sex in all its forms and will happily go with the flow; his main concern is that his partner is enjoying it, therefore he can fulfil whatever they desire. they like someone who is rough and can take charge? easy. they like someone who begs and whimpers for them? say less.

➻ his true nature unearths itself as he's about to come, though. no matter how the situation has been set up, as he gets closer to finishing he always becomes a brainless, whimpering mess. any kind of act or decorum leaves him and he's just chasing the pleasure.

➻ on that note, sebastian is vocal. he's not afraid to moan, or whine, or grunt, and he's not afraid to be loud. it comes naturally to him, even pleasuring himself, he has to exert effort to be quiet—which is part of the fun, really.

➻ further to this, he loves talking during sex. words of praise especially. if his partner likes degradation he can play the part, but he naturally leans towards mindless horny babble. "you look so good like that—fuck." "cannot believe how well you're taking my cock, just like that—ohfuckohfuckohfuck." "I'm so close, love—ngh—feels so good."

➻ he has this intoxicating quality of acting in disbelief every time he's intimate. it's like he can't quite believe how lucky he's gotten. his expression when looking at his partner is a mixture of a desire-addled haze and awe.

➻ this is where his 'bottom-leaning' side comes in. if he finds a partner that is happy to take charge, sebastian melts. when he doesn't have to think about his own pleasure, when the reins are taken out of his hands, so to speak, he turns into a raw, hot, mess.

➻ he likes having his nipples played with. he likes being called a 'good boy'. he likes being teased and edged until he's begging for it. "please, please, i wanna cum. i've been a good boy, please." he likes being pounded into the mattress until he can't think anymore. he finds it liberating.

➻ however, on the off occasion, sebastian likes doing the same to his partner. forgetting all the pre-tense and pouncing on them like an animal, bending them over and fucking them until they can't think. "merlin, you're taking me so well—just like that—mmh, so perfect."

➻ he's playful in bed too; cracking jokes, making innuendos. flirtatious until the second his partner's hand flies to his cock and every thought exits through his head like an open dam gate.

➻ his libido is also very high. after graduation when he and his partner are away from prying eyes, sex is almost a daily occurrence. from his teen years, sebastian has been one to wake up horny and go to bed horny; god help his lover who is now the subject of all those desires.

➻ all in all, sebastian is very easy with sex. he enjoys it, he finds it liberating, and most of all he loves the connection. he's devoted to his long-term partner and that devotion never strays. he wants only to please them, whatever form that may take.

(now im thinking of fleshing out my ominis headcanons and starting some garreth ones too! stay tuned!)

[ddejavvu]

Hi!

If you ever have time would you mind writing something angsty but super fluffy with someone fainting and Remus going into protective mode?

I’m very invested in reading your stories right now. Even when the idea of some isn’t my thing I just like your writing style.

Have a lovely day!

you are so sweet! i'm happy to hear that, and I'm sorry this took me a hot minute to write and post. i hope you still enjoy!

--

Remus had seen all the warning signs, and he's just glad you'd fainted in his room of all places. You'd been trailing off on your thoughts, your eyes had been blinking slower than normal, and you'd done that swaying-on-your-feet thing that only happened when your brain was feeling especially fuzzy. So when you fall, he's expecting it, and he catches you.

Even if he'd stuck your landing perfectly, slung his arms around your middle to keep you upright and taken you to his bed, he's still upset that he had to do it, and he's worried for when you'll wake up.

Of course, he doesn't lament taking care of you. No, what he's upset about is that anyone has to in the first place; he doesn't like that you have to live with the worry of fainting at any moment.

He's lost in thought, stroking your cheeks soothingly when Sirius and James burst in, already too loud for Remus's liking. He wants to return the same jovial greeting they give him, but it's hard when he has to rush to cover your ears. He knows you'll most likely not wake from their horseplay, but it feels wrong to subject you to all of that noise.

"Woah, sleeping beauty," Sirius cracks, peering at the way you don't even flinch when they're particularly loud, "What's their deal, exams?"

"They've fainted," Remus informs him, voice much quieter than his friends', "I'm sitting with them until they wake up."

"Oh, shit," James hums, brows furrowed in concern, "They okay?"

"Yeah, s'fine," Remus rubs a tired hand over his face, exasperated that there's nothing he can do but wait, "Just happens sometimes."

"Do they need- like, water, or something?" Sirius stands stiffer than he normally does, on edge at your unconsciousness. Remus smiles gratefully at the man, nodding towards the bathroom.

"Yeah Pads, that's a good idea. Can you get some?"

"On it," Sirius mumbles, socked feet padding to the bathroom in search of a glass.

James perches on the bed beside your feet, careful not to jolt you where you're laying in Remus's lap. He presses two tentative fingers to your wrist, finding a pulse there that loosens the knot of worry in his chest.

"They're fine," Remus promises, keeping his voice to a low murmur, "They just need a minute."

"Water," Sirius chimes, setting the glass on the nightstand. He sees your lashes flutter slightly, watches as your fingers twitch, "Uh, Prongs, let's leave them alone."

"Right," James clamors off of the bed, watching apprehensively as you blink your eyes open, blearily looking at Remus's pudged chin as he stares down at you.

The two leave without another word, and you sit up groggily, with the help of Remus's hand on your back.

"Hi, dove." He smiles kindly, "You feeling okay?"

"Mhm," You rub at your left eye with a knuckle that's far too aggressive for Remus's liking. He pulls it away, and smooths the discomfort away with his gentle thumb instead.

"Here's some water, courtesy of Sirius," He hands over the glass, "Why don't we rest for a bit?"

"Okay," You hum, drinking nearly half of the glass and settling back into Remus's warm embrace, "Rem?"

"Hm?"

"Did you catch me? Before I hit the ground?"

"I did," He grins into your hairline, arms tightening around your waist, "I'd never let you fall, dove."

[schizoidcel]

Hello! I saw you were taking requests for TADC and thought I'd send one in if it isn't too much hassle.

This one has been itching at my brain since I saw the pilot

Pomni, Ragatha, and Zooble (Separately) encounter a newcomer to the circus (reader), who was their S/O in the real world.

Perhaps reader had come looking for them to find out what happened, only to end up getting stuck with them?

Anyways, thanks for your time! I hope you are well!

# POMNI, RAGATHA & ZOOBLE (SEPERATELY) x THEIR S/O IN THE REAL WORLD THAT ACCIDENTLY ENDED UP IN THE CIRCUS ☆

Idk how yall find me wit my posts not showing up in the tags but OMG HELLFIRE I LOVE THIS SO MUCH??? Dw bestie it's no hassle ong ong. HOPE U'RE DOING WELL TOO LOVE <3

︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶༉‧₊˚.

🤍 HEADCANONS !!

warnings :: None, angst if you squint on Zoobles part. Also not proofread I'll do it in the morning kissy

♪ POMNI ..

She's probably taken aback first.

It's just been a week after she arrived? And there's already another person???

Though for some reason, and even if you two barely talked, Pomni already feels more connected to you than with everybody else in the circus. Even with Ragatha, even though they've helped her through everything, like on the first day

She finds it weird, but she dosen't mention it at all.

Your presence is just soothing to her and calms her down, which is enough of a reason for her to keep being near you

Over time, you 2 grew very close, seeing as both of you are new to this whole thing.

And Pomni already feels like she has grown a crush on you .. Cmon girlfail it's been like a couple days.

The way you just are ... You makes Pomni feel like you've supported and comforted her all her life, even though you guys just met a couple of days ago

Once you and Pomni were calming down after a really exhausting adventure, you both were pretty beat and when you initiated conversation it somehow came to how you both ended up in the circus

You explained to her how you ended up here because you wanted to try and escape reality after your lover went missing, obviously not expecting to get trapped in a literal VR game ...

Pomni felt saddened at the mention of you having a lover, but at the same time, she felt like something snapped inside her

Didn't she have a lover too?? Was that you? Because it would explain alot .

And when you said how Pomni kinda resembeled your partner, was when she realized :

Pomni IS your partner

She literally immediately started to try and explain to you how she is probably your lover because of how you and her ended up here, and because of the entire thing of her feeling more connected with you

You didn't seem like you got it from her extremely fast no pause explanation, which caused her to have a meltdown infront of you ... (goodjob girl!)

Though, that meltdown looked abit too familiar. Immediately you knew that "Damn! That's my girl!"

Just as soon as you realized, you held her and reassured her that you got what she meant, and that you're happy she managed to connect the dots you couldn't

Pomni seemed happy from the praise, but she seemed even happier from the fact that both of you are together again.

And now she is clinging on to you like idk a panda on pumpkin.

Expect her to be clingy like this for a few days, maybe even weeks. Fuck girl maybe FOREVER

The days she was there, even with Ragatha helping her the best she can, Pomni still felt isolated as she had begun to slowly think that maybe none of these people are real in the first place (jesus girl)

But now that you, her S/O, someone she KNOWS that is real is here with her she feels SO much more calmer

She does feel bad that you're stuck with her now, and she definitely feels abit of guilt. But exactly because of those reasons, Pomni wants to get out even faster now. She still wants to have a little apartment with you, after all!

♪ RAGATHA ..

With you being new, Ragatha makes sure that like with Pomni, your 1st day is as good as it can be!

She seems to be abit more hooked on trying to make it perfect, though ...

I wonder why that is?

Well she sure don't know. Anywho!

Even if she does want the day for you to be more flawless than ever, she really didn't give it any thought, therefore she automatically is not aware why she wanted it to be 100% ideal for you

She's been in here for awhile, and though she faintly remembers having a partner, she doubts her partner would ever end up in the digital circus like her (uhmm... news flash bae...)

Ragatha realizes from day 1 that she gets along with you really well, and that immediately caused you two to hang out alot!!

The longer you hangout with her, the more Ragatha feels like she is developing a crush on you .. (wuh woh ...)

And not even a few hours after she realizes she has this crush on you, you started talking about how you ended up in the circus in the first place

She was sad at first, but tried not to show it. Instead, she comforted you, and told you stuff like "It's OK!" "Maybe we'll find a way out, then we can find your S/O!" (the irony I can't.) basically words she hoped would stop making you look so sad and make you smile instead .. (cutie)

Out of nowhere though, you started crying

She was so . shocked?? GIRL WHY ARE YOU CRYING

You try to tell her through your now lowkey stuttering voice how your S/O acted JUST like her

The touch, the words, the voice, all of it was really familiar to you .

After you tell that to her, Ragatha realizes that it's the same for her towards you.

How she feels like you and her knew eachother for years with how fast you two got along when you first met, surely it can't be a coincidence.

Ragatha begins to tell you about this and how she feels like she knew you for a very, VERY long time

.. Which leads to a guessing game of both o yalls fave things.

Though Ragatha has forgotten most of the stuff in her life back on the real world, she "coincidentally" knew EVERY one of your favourite things.

And you did hers??

You two didn't know how to react and were shocked.

After the shock died down though, both of you were just hugging eachother, and the both of you telling eachother how lonely it was without the other one by your side really aint gon stop those tears.

♪ ZOOBLE ..

Zooble DEFINITELY wouldn't even realize or care about you

Ofcourse not because they hate you, they're just kinda tired of new people coming in and in, especially this fast (chill girl god damn its only 2 people!!)

Zooble starts to find you WAY more tolerable the more Caine throws you into adventures together, though

They find the aura around you more inviting, so to speak

They even slowly start to think about how they prefer you over all the other members of the circus

You two only spoke around 4 times, but all have been extremely smooth going and fun conversations, something Zooble wouldn't expect to have with someone. ESPECIALLY a new member ..

On the other side, you find Zooble extremely likeable aswell! Sure, they might be dry or blunt, but they have a warm side, like every cold person usually does

You probably like talking with Zooble more than everyone else aswell .. Not cus everyone else is boring, you just find Zoobles personality and perspective on things to be more intriguing

Once Caine made you all go through another adventure yet again, which turned out to be a "partner" game

And wouldn't you know it, fate loves you and puts you and Zooble into a pair!

On that day, you two managed to tell eachother the mutual interest you have in one another, therefore deciding to become closer friends.

Or actually lets just start with being friends in the 1st place.

Ofcourse after that game, you two would normally be seen together more often now (BESTIE TIME)

Which ultimately leads to you telling Zooble how you got in the circus in the first place

Zooble didn't really know how to react to you having a S/O, they didn't really feel hurt, but at the same time they did? It was confusing, really

Once while in your room, you told Zooble how some of the antics they make is similar to what your S/O used to do

You immediately snapped and thought about how lowkey weird it is to say that, so you apologized immediately ..

To your suprise though, Zooble even took it as a compliment (they didn't expect it too.)

Zooble feels like a part of their identity has been put together the more you guys hang out with eachother

They want to know why they feel so completed with you, but that'll probably be something that can only be figured out once you two (if you can) get out of this circus (word for word ...)

But for now, they'll enjoy your company, the energy you give off, and your comforting presence.

They wont step over the line, since they know you already have a partner, but it wont hurt if you're just best friends, right?

︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶༉‧₊˚.

ׂૢ་༘࿐ Thank you for reading! ♡

Ugh this was so much fun I am LIVING for these little babes. I'm really proud of these hello ?! Might make a short scenario version since I love this ask sm.

[untitled-tmnt-blog]

My brain was just begging me to draw Leo's breakdown from Chapter 18 of The Aftermath (@starrcrossrose), so I did!

(I'm gonna ramble a bit about how much I love this fic, so putting that below the cut!)

The whole situation they've found themselves in these past couple chapters is rough and messy and heartbreaking, and I love how it also makes perfect sense! Mikey's anger finally boiling over at Leo's words, Leo's panic/PTSD episode at being attacked, everyone wanting to help, knowing they may be pushing too far, but also just being so frustrated and wanting to understand. It's like they're trying to rip the band-aid off and deal with the problem, not realizing that the wound underneath is so bad it basically starts hemorrhaging.

There's a bit of a tragic misunderstanding between what they all think is going on in Leo's head, and what he's actually thinking.

He just wants to know why. Doesn’t he know what they gave? Doesn’t he know what Mikey gave?! According to Draxum, opening that portal had taken some of Mikey’s vitality; his life. Draxum figured that Mikey had lost a couple years, at least, and that even if his hands healed… there would be other consequences down the road if he continued to push his mystic powers further than he should at this age and without proper training.

Mikey was lucky, which made Leo lucky. Why couldn’t he just understand that?

But Leo’s expression is broken and angry, a well of shadow that Donnie had never seen in him before as he spat, “You should’ve just let me die.”

Donnie (and the others as well, I'm sure) don't understand why Leo doesn't comprehend what they gave, and what they'd be willing to give, to get him back. They don't understand why he'd be willing to throw his life away so easily, and assume he must not appreciate that sacrifice... But, that's the problem: Leo does know what they're willing to give. And he believes he's not worth it.

It's been so interesting diving into everyone's mental state following the events of the movie, and I think The Aftermath does an incredible job of that! I love when the same events are repeated in multiple different POVs, since each character really is experiencing something so different at the exact same time. This was one of the first fics I found after getting into Rise, and it remains one of my favorites. Looking forward to seeing where things go from here!

Also, here's the color-coded version too, because why not?

I generally start out my drawings that way, since it helps me differentiate between the characters. I think it looks kind of neat, so might as well include it here too!

(This is either before April, Casey, and Splinter join in the hug, or after they left... because I'm not great at drawing those guys yet!)

[rvzcvx]

hey hey!! how is your mood? still bored? anyway, i hope you have everything according to plan and nothing bad! i'm sorry, i didn't have any ideas to offer you something, so i have a damp thought in my brain.

how about smut with dom Bill x sub female reader, where they both date from an early age, like 12-14 years old, but they've never had anything very intimate except kissing cheeks and forehead with hugs (clearly, they're both virgins). now that they have grown up and are still dating each other, they decide to spend time together, cuddling and lying on Bill's bed. their hugs turn into more insistent kisses, which they had not had before, so reader blushed a lot because of embarrassment and her innocent nature, which touched Bill a little, since he is also an angel, but not that much. Bill sits reader on his lap, continuing to kiss her, after which they both came to a decision - to lose their virginity. Bill gently claims his rights to reader by entering her while she lies on her back and holds onto Bill's biceps, squinting in discomfort, to which Bill kisses her face and comforts her, worrying about her, since this is the first sex at all for both of them. when reader is already used to it, she gives Bill permission to move, everything happens gently and passionately. after reader cums, and Bill doesn't, he takes her legs and throws them over his shoulders, moving rougher and more insistently, tearing reader's pelvis off the sheets and overexciting her, after which they both cum. everyone is pumped with comfort and experiences.

i know it looks like some kind of banal idea, but my mind gave it away, well, it's at least something, not nothing. if it's inconvenient for you to write this, then i understand!! good luck ;)

FIRST TIME

pairing: bill kaulitz x female reader

warnings: kissing, p in v, smut

a/n: sorry its so short but i didnt have any ideas:( i hope youre gonna like it. im waiting for new requests, cause i dont have any ideas what to write

I've been dating Bill since we were 12 years old. We met in middle school and became inseparable from the start. Our relationship was always innocent and sweet - we would hold hands, share our first kiss on the cheek, and cuddle while watching movies. But as we grew older, I couldn't help but feel a burning desire for something more.

One day, while lying on Bill's bed, our innocent cuddles turned into something more intense. We looked into each other's eyes, and I could feel my heart racing. Bill gently brushed a strand of hair from my face and leaned in for a kiss. This wasn't like any kiss we had shared before - it was passionate and full of longing. I blushed, taken aback by the intensity of the moment.

"Is everything okay?" Bill asked, noticing my embarrassment. I nodded, unable to find the words to express how I was feeling. Bill must have sensed my nervousness because he pulled me closer and whispered, "We don't have to do anything you're not comfortable with"

But I wanted to. I wanted to take this next step with Bill, who had been my rock for so many years. I nodded again, giving him my consent. Bill's face lit up, and he gently laid me down on his bed. His touch was tender as he undressed me, taking his time to explore every inch of my body.

As he entered me, I felt a sharp pain that made me wince. Bill noticed and stopped, looking at me with concern. "Are you okay?" he asked, his voice laced with worry. "Yes, I'm good" i nodded, telling him to continue. As I got used to the feeling, Bill began to move gently, our bodies moving in sync with each other.

"You feel amazing" Bill whispered in my ear, his breath hot against my skin. I wrapped my legs around his waist, pulling him closer to me. Our rhythm grew more intense, and I could feel myself reaching the brink of ecstasy.

"Oh, Bill" I moaned, my voice barely above a whisper. He quickened his pace, his body tensing as he approached his own release. I could feel myself building up to my own climax, my body shaking with pleasure.

And then, suddenly, I was there. My orgasm washed over me, and I cried out in pleasure. Bill followed soon after, collapsing onto me with a satisfied sigh.

We lay there, our bodies entwined, for what felt like hours. I traced my fingers over Bill's chest, marveling at the strength of his body. Bill kissed my forehead, his lips lingering on my skin.

"That was incredible" he whispered, his voice husky with emotion. I nodded, unable to find the words to express how I was feeling.

As we got dressed, Bill took my hand, his touch reassuring. "I love you" he said, his eyes filled with sincerity.

"I love you too" I replied, my heart swelling with emotion.

[watcheraurora]

Deepfrost Pass

More than a little inspired by @/mellozheist's want to give credit but not bother with my shipping nonsense so no tag unfinished Let It Go Tango animatic that I was watching... but as always I've got Rancher brainrot on my brain... have fun! 3.2k words

—

"Absolutely not," Grian snapped. "No. Not happening. You can't."

"Try and stop me," Jimmy challenged. "You're not a Watcher here."

"I am a Watcher here, but my powers are limited. Not gone. And I say no."

"Well I say yes. And you won't stop me." Jimmy shoved Grian out of the way of the door. "It's your fault anyway."

Grian's wings went rigid. "Excuse me?" he demanded, voice cold.

"It's your fault!" Jimmy retorted. "If you hadn't made that stupid server—"

"If I hadn't made that stupid server, you two wouldn't ever have met the way you did!" Grian spat back. "You wouldn't ever have known him like this if it weren't for me. If anything, you should be thanking me."

"I am grateful to you for that. But only that. The rest? Yeah, I do blame you for."

"If you go there, you'll die."

Jimmy shoved his arms into his coat. "That's a risk I'm willing to take."

"Tim—" Grian's hand lashed out and caught Jimmy's wrist. "Even I can't—and I'm a Watcher—It's just—there are nearly ten wardens in there. They've taken him over. He left for a reason. Can't you just—"

Jimmy shook Grian's hand off. "No. I can't 'just.' I know you think that whatever he found up there corrupted him or possessed him. I think you're wrong. That server was awful to him in a way he wasn't prepared for. I can take being the butt of jokes. I'm used to it. He never handled betrayal well and put on such a brave face that no one noticed. He snapped. And I'm don't care. I'm going to see him. I'm not here for very long before I'm going to get kicked."

"Tim, don't be stupid—"

"That's me. Stupid, stupid Tim," Jimmy spat. His wings snapped open and he hurled himself into the sky.

Grian was a fantastic flyer. He was small and nimble and could maneuver incredibly well. But he couldn't hold a candle to the raw power and strength of Jimmy's massive wings. That was what came from their height difference and builds. Jimmy was built for strength and speed. Most real canaries weren't, but he wasn't an actual bird, for crying out loud.

His armor barely even weighed him down as he surged higher into the sky. Grian would never be able to catch up. In small areas with lots of obstacles, Grian would win a race any day. But wide open sky going in a straight line? He'd have to work extra hard to keep up with Jimmy's casual flight.

He flapped his wings and soared higher. The world dropped even farther below. He knew this would be a long flight—hours, probably—but he would make it most of the way on the wing. Then the last leg of the journey on foot. He was prepared. He knew what he was doing.

He hoped.

All sorts of landscapes passed by beneath him. For hours. Gradually lifting up from plains into hills into foothills. Until he was in a taiga. Nearing the tundra tree line. Mountains surged up from the ground ahead of him, and he'd have to gain more altitude to access the pass between two of them that he needed. His wings beat the air harder, lifting him up until the air was almost too thin to cushion his wings and keep him aloft.

Jimmy flew until frost started to crystallize on his feathers. He knew he wouldn't be able to get any closer via flight, so he tilted into a sharp dive and braked hard, landing with a crunch of his leather boots in the deep snow. He pulled his coat tighter around him and drew his wings in close. They were so long that they dragged through the snow behind him. And they took the bite of this cold mountain range the most. But he couldn't let himself care about that.

He pulled a Blaze Rod out of his inventory and held it in one hand, a torch in the other. The Blaze Rod lit the torch and both helped keep him warm as he trudged up the mountain. He knew he couldn't be far now. The sun was going down. Mobs were going to start spawning soon.

He ate as he hiked. A golden carrot styled to look like a churro every so often. Scar had insisted he take them, so he had.

The sun went down. A full moon began to emerge over the mountain peaks. Jimmy caught sight of it when he was between peaks. There was no path to where he was going. Just the ever-worsening cold to lead him on. But he felt the direction in his heart.

So when he rounded the mountain and saw the fortress, he wasn't sure how to feel.

The thing was massive. Dark stone and teal accents. Grey-black towers clawed at the midnight-blue sky, as though trying to feed the stars to the gaping, frowning mouth partway up the enormous central tower. A warden's mouth.

The doorway was open, the portcullis raised.

Who needed security like that in a place like this? When the dangerous stuff was inside?

Jimmy stared.

The Deepfrost Citadel.

Blood. Pain. Screaming. Tango's yellow fire hair simmering down, blazing back up with the ice-blues and teals of soul fire. His friends' betrayals still lingering in his heart. The rage never fully going away, just pretending it was gone...

Jimmy still had some of Tango's memories. He remembered waking up in the middle of the night in Tumble Town, not too long after he first settled there after Double Life had ended, to Tango's screams in his nightmares. He remembered waking up months ago to a message from Grian, panicking that Tango had retreated into the mountains and no one had seen nor heard from him since.

Tango had even avoided him when he'd crossed over into Jimmy's world. Jimmy had rebuilt their ranch and everything. Tango promised it was his home. And then he spent all his time down in Gobland, too absorbed in work to... to ever... to ever come home.

A tear slid down Jimmy's face, trying to freeze but so hot that it made his skin tingle from the contact.

He trudged closer to the citadel.

Fine. If Tango was going to go back to his cave and his castle since returning home to Hermitcraft, then Jimmy was going to go to him.

He made it into the maw of the open doorway and shook off. Snow fell off his hair, wings, and the shoulders of his coat. His sheriff clothes were designed for the broiling heat of the mesa. They were thick and protective, but lightweight to release body heat.

Not a good idea for this taiga. He was freezing.

He climbed a long, dark staircase into a semi-constructed great hall.

"Tango?" he called. His voice echoed to the towers above him.

He heard the humming of a warden, coming from somewhere deep below. Just that sound alone made his blood run cold.

"Tango!" he called louder.

Something moved in the shadows cast by the soul fires. He whirled, expecting a warden or a ravager.

Nothing.

He held the Blaze Rod closer to his chest and extinguished the torch, tucking it back in his inventory. The lack of its warmth made his wings shiver. "Tango. Is that you?" he asked quieter. "Tango, please."

The movement was a shadow itself. Humanoid in shape, but nothing more than silhouette. It pointed, dodged to another shadow, and pointed again. Jimmy followed. "Tango, is that you?" Jimmy asked more urgently.

The shadow shook its head. Pointed again. Flitted to another shadow. Pointed. Jimmy followed its path.

A hole in the wall that led to a hole in the ground. The shadow briefly appeared, pointed down, and vanished.

Jimmy looked down apprehensibly. He didn't see any water... but there was a water elevator right next to this drop. Obviously a way up and down to somewhere.

Trusting in Tango, trusting in whatever they'd been on that first Ranch, hearts and souls in each other's hands, he closed his eyes and stepped off the drop, pulling his wings in tight so they wouldn't smash into anything or break and holding the Blaze Rod to his chest.

He landed on powdered snow, covered in a carpet square. It absorbed the damage of his fall. He ducked low to clear his wings and stepped out.

He was in a storage room. The walls were lined with rows and rows and columns and columns of chests. It was a remarkably compact storage room, all things considered. He'd seen the incredibly complex, sprawling system behind the doors of Scar's shop fronts in his theme park. That was huge. This was just chests. All shoved against one another. A Nether portal droned off to his left. And beside it, an archway that led out into a huge open cavern. Jimmy stood on the edge of the storage room's packed mud brick floor and looked out, his wings extending slightly behind him.

The cavern wasn't just some empty hole. It was filled with an unfathomably complicated web of redstone, all woven around structures. Jimmy couldn't make heads or tails of any of it.

This kind of area is where Grian's flying skills would be more beneficial than his. Jimmy could fly around in here, but he'd smack into every wall and track of redstone he came across. He couldn't maneuver anywhere near as well. This was an obstacle course dream for Grian.

Jimmy unfurled his wings and launched into the cavern, trying to keep his ridiculously long wingspan as close to himself as he could while still staying airborne while he flew around, searching the structures and the web of redstone.

"Tango?" he called. His voice echoed around the structure. He wondered if, for a moment, he actually saw that shadow running through the darkness alongside him. Or if he was losing it.

He heard giggling. Tango's distinct giggle. He pulled up short and banked in a circle, looking around.

"Hmhm! Dungeon's making me hear my birdie," Tango said in his high-pitched, silly voice. Sounding... slightly manic.

A firework rocket shot off. Jimmy heard the snapping of Elytra membranes. He looked around—

And caught sight of Tango flying back toward the storage room, a shulker box in hand. Jimmy twisted sharply and shot after him, catching his wings on tracks of powered and activator rails. He grunted in pain at the impacts.

When he finally made it back to the storage room, Tango was kneeling in front of a ground-level chest, rifling through it. He had a black hood on, attached to the long black coat he'd worn on Jimmy's world. The one that had spawned on him in Jimmy's nightmare when he snapped and his yellow fire hair had turned blue. The nightmare where the wardens broke through the ground at Tango's command and attacked the other Hermits who tried to contain them—and him—before he retreated up Deepfrost Pass and churned out his fortress.

He was singsonging under his breath as he moved materials from the chest into the shulker box. "Just keep workin'. Do the buildy-buildy. We'll show them. We'll show 'em all when I watch Ravagers munch their faces off. Especially Bdubs."

He shuffled over, popping another shulker box onto the ground and filling it with contents of another chest.

Jimmy just watched for a few moments.

"Gotta finish. Have to. Can't wait to feed the Hermits to the wardens."

Jimmy crept closer. He set a hand on Tango's shoulder. "Tango," he said gently.

"Wah-ga-gah!" Tango exclaimed, whirling around with his coat flaring around him. His hood fell off, revealing soul-fire hair. And, for just a moment, black eyes. But the black disappeared, and they were back to blue with deep blue sclera. He started laughing. "Very funny, Decked Out!" he called toward the cavern of structures and redstone. "Making me hallucinate Jimmy isn't going to speed things up, you know!"

"Tango, I—I'm not a hallucination," Jimmy said, tightening his grip on Tango's shoulder. The coat was so thick, he couldn't feel Tango's muscle giving underneath.

Tango leaned closer conspiratorially and winked. "That's what a hallucination would say," he said playfully. He turned back to his materials and kept shoveling them over into the shulker box.

"No, I'm not. Tango—" Jimmy grabbed Tango's shoulders and spun him around. "Look at me. I'm really here. I flew most of the way here and hiked the rest. I had to come see you. I had to—you—I miss you. I've barely seen you since our home worlds collided. You never came home to Tumble Town. The only reason I came through the Rift was to spend more time with you, and I've barely seen you since I've been here. You just left. What did I do, Tango? What have I done to warrant you avoiding me?"

Tango tried to turn back around, but Jimmy held him firm.

Tango blinked. Something like clarity sharpened in his eyes. "You're really here," he said.

"Yes. I'm here. I'm not some illusion or hallucination."

"I thought... the dungeon..." Tango looked out to the cavern, then back to Jimmy. Somewhere deep below, a warden hummed and sniffed. Jimmy's wings shivered. Tango's eyes snapped back to his. "I have to finish Decked Out. The dungeon needs to be whole."

Jimmy knelt so he and Tango were nearly at eye-level, still holding the shoulders of the coat. A glassy look made Tango's eyes unfocus.

"The others... they tried to stop me from leaving. But they've already held me back for so long. Bdubs betrayed me. We were teammates. He stabbed me in the back. He was no match for my wardens. Grian thought he was some almighty eldritch creature. But six wings are just more targets to get blastificated. Even Etho—the original!—was powerless to stop me when I finally let go of everything I'd used to hold myself back."

"Tango. Can you find it in yourself to forgive your friends?" Jimmy ran a hand through Tango's soul fire hair. It burned his skin in a way he wasn't used to. Soul fire was hotter than normal fire, but back when they were SoulBound, Tango's fire hadn't even been able to burn Jimmy's skin.

Tango bared his sharp teeth. His hair blazed brighter, higher, and hotter. Jimmy leaned away.

"Tango," Jimmy said soothingly. Repeating his name over and over to remind him who he was. To remind him he was a person. He cupped the side of Tango's face. "Look at me. Look at my eyes." He waited until Tango did. "Can you?"

Tango grumbled under his breath. Bitter and sarcastic.

"Hey. Remember when we first met? In Third Life? And I died to your lava game?"

"Dare to Flare," Tango said automatically.

"That's right. Do you remember when we met again in Double Life? After the creeper?"

Tango's voice pitched up. "You were angry."

"I wasn't," Jimmy said. "Not at you. Just that I'd lost the resources I'd gathered. It had nothing to do with you. And you were always so kind to me. I'm used to everyone putting me on the short end of the joke. You never did. You were a little sarcastic with me, sure. But you always put yourself at the short end of the joke. But you were kind to me. You're one of the only people who ever treated me with unconditional respect as a person, all the time. It's why I..." Jimmy cleared his throat. His wings twitched and ruffled. "It's why I fell for you, so fast."

Tango blinked, slow, like a cat. His head tilted into the contact of Jimmy's hand.

"You saw, while we lived on the Ranch, how everyone else treats me. I'm used to it. I encourage it. If they have to be mean to someone, they should be mean to me. I can take it. But you... you were never anything but loyal. Not just to me. To your team. And you got nothing in return but betrayal. You and me—we really feel our emotions. We pretend we don't, but we do. Our emotions are big and deep. The good, and the bad. Maybe it's why we got put together." Jimmy bent closer and rested his forehead to Tango's. "We have to learn to let the bad slide off, once we've felt it. You have to forgive the other Hermits. You have to let go of the rage."

Tango took a deep breath. "I... I can't."

"Please? Just try. For me?"

Tango reached up and wrapped cold hands around the back of Jimmy's neck, lacing his fingers together. "Birdie..."

"I'm only asking you to try. Breathe with me, and thing about letting it go."

"I'll try."

They shared deep breaths. Trying to tune out the wardens deep below. "Thank your emotions for keeping you safe, and release them," Jimmy whispered.

They knelt on the floor of the storage room for what felt like a long time. Just breathing and quietly encouraging Tango to forgive and let go. Jimmy kept quietly whispering affirmations he used to tell himself when he was learning not to mind the jokes.

A warden screamed somewhere below.

Tension surged out of Tango's shoulders and he slumped forward.

Jimmy caught him, cradling him to his chest. "I got you. It's okay. It's okay. You're fine." He rocked them both, his wings encircling them in a gold shield of protection. "What was that? Why did that warden...? Was Grian right? Were the wardens' influence bleeding into you?"

Tango shook his head against Jimmy's heart. "No. Other way around. My pain was bleeding into them. Wardens are mourners. They were mourning for me. But you're right. I can let it go."

Jimmy smiled. "That's it. Exactly."

There was a long pause. "I do still have to finish this game though. I've been working on it for so long—I can't just stop now."

"No, I know. But let it be just that. A game. Not a vessel for revenge or a channel for betrayal. Just a game."

"I can do that," Tango said. "Or. Well. I can try, anyway."

"That's all you need to do. Just try. Because there's merit in trying. And eventually, trying can pay off. Next thing you'll know, you'll be doing."

"Yeah... yeah. I can do that."

Jimmy kissed the top of Tango's head. The soul fire hair didn't burn him. "That's all I ask." He pulled back a little. "Come up with me? Outside? Come see the sky, please? The sun went down, but the stars are beautiful this far from everyone else. It's so dark and high altitude up here. They're beautiful."

"Okay."

Jimmy smiled. "Okay?"

"Yeah, yeah. Okay!"

"Come with me!" Jimmy pulled Tango toward the water elevator.

[lilyrizzy]

porny continuation if this snippet! omega daniel/virgin!alpha max

Of course, Daniel goes into heat first.

It's almost funny. His boss asking him to fuck his teammate, only for it to be Daniel's body that ends up begging for it, three weeks too early.

He lies naked on the top of sweaty hotel room sheets in Budapest and tries hard not to think about how the last day of his heat will now line up perfectly with the beginning of Max's rut.

A joke, really.

And Daniel is trying to hold off, to not ask for more than what they've already agreed to. Max's rut, but-

"Daniel," Max whines breathy even from the other side of the door. Daniel can picture it easily, his violent pink cheek pressed against the cool wood the same way he presses it against briefing room tables, eyes closed. His fat bottom lip catching as he speaks. "Please, Daniel, let me help."

Scent is pouring off him, clouding Daniel’s head even though there must be at least eight feet of space between where he is writhing on the bed, stuffed with his own fingers and Max trapped out in the hotel corridor. He can taste it on the back of his tongue. Alpha.

"Max," he whimpers, and really, what else can he do?

Something in the back of his brain tries to reason it will be better this way. Max won’t be so out of it now like he would be in rut. He'll get to be in control for his first time. Even if all he does is mindlessly hump into Daniel, over-eager, it will be enough for Daniel right now.

Anything will be, as long as it ends with Max's knot catching inside of him.

But when he opens the door, half-cringing at the way his slick-sticky fingers smear over the metal of the handle, Max doesn’t go straight for his cunt. He kisses Daniel, groaning against his lips as his fingertips come to cradle Daniel's jaw. The warm, wet shock of his tongue makes Daniel's stomach clench, makes him wonder where the fuck Max learnt to kiss.

Wonders who taught him.

It's a sick relief, the moment Max backs him onto the bed and slides down his body to put his mouth to Daniel, because it becomes obvious then that kissing is the extent of his experience.

Daniel tangles his hands into Max's hair and gets to work teaching him.

"Use your nose," he'd tells Max, forcing himself to ignore the desperation in his own voice, "rub it against my slit, I like that."

Max takes direction beautifully. Daniel has to prop himself up onto his elbows, abs aching, just to see him do it. Somehow the high colour on his cheeks has gotten even darker under the shine of Daniel's slick there. It tips Daniel over the edge, easy in a way none of the orgasms he's given himself in the hour before this have been.

Satisfying too, but still not enough.

"Maxy," Daniel whines after the second time. Max doesn't stop licking, even when Daniel has finished humping his cunt against his face with each wave of his orgasm. He just moans, vibration making Daniel's legs twitch. "Maxy, baby, enough teasing me. I need your knot."

But when Max lifts his head, he looks a way he never should in bed. Trapped. Nervous. The same way he's looked at Christian in team meetings after he's shunted into the wall. For a moment, Daniel hates himself so much he thinks he might be sick, then-

"I can't," Max says miserably, "Daniel, I- I'm sorry, I-"

He lifts himself onto his knees, pushing down his sweats that are damp at the front in a way that makes Daniel shiver. His cock is pretty. Bigger than Daniel would have thought in a way that only makes sense now that he's faced with it, flushed as dark as his face. One of the bigger dicks Daniel is going to have taken.

Then Daniel sees the problem.

"Your knot already popped?" He asks, eyes catching on the fist Max has curled protectively around it. A little in awe because- "But you haven't come?"

Daniel didn't smell it, and Max's hurt little shake of his head is only confirmation.

That isn't normal.

"Sometimes, I- In the driver's room, after races when I can smell you stronger." Max is tripping over his words as he hastily explains like he thinks Daniel is mad or something. "Because of your sweat. I just- I thought could wait this time, but of course I- I'm sorry I-"

"Hey, Maxy," Daniel interrupts him, surging forward to kiss him with a softness that doesn't match the mounting desperation inside of him. "It's okay. You just need it really badly, don't you?"

Max sucks in a breath and nods shakily, nose brushing against Daniel's. The smell of his own slick is so strong on Max's face, and Daniel's cunt clenches down around nothing, reminding him of where he needs to be filled.

"Do you still want to try to give it to me?" He asks and watches Max pull back like he's been burnt, eyes going wide.

"Daniel," he breathes, but Daniel just lies back down on the bed, spreading his legs wider. Presenting, a traitorous corner of his brain reminds him. Max's hand tightens around himself, at the same time as his eyes fix on where Daniel is still leaking steadily against the bed.

"I need it," he says again. "It will be nice for you too, to have me tight around you, to get to come inside."

Max bites his plush bottom lip, and Daniel can see how badly he wants it. It makes it easier to ignore his own shame in practically begging a teenager for it. Max's dick kicks in his hand, a drop of precome dripping from the tip.

"I don't want to hurt you," he says, and Daniel knows this is the last hurdle before he gets what he wants.

"You won't," he promises, moving to wrap his legs around Max's thighs, where he's still kneeling over Daniel. "I'll help you to be good for me."

The first push inside is agonisingly slow, even though the fat base of Max's dick is nowhere near Daniel's rim yet. Daniel bites back a plea for him to go quicker, focusing instead on praising him. Making it good for him.

"That's perfect baby," he assures him when Max has jerkily fucked himself inside as far as he can go before his knot catches on the wrong side of Daniel. "You should look. See how well you are doing."

As though he'd been waiting for permission, Max's eyes snap down to where he's pressed half inside, and he lets out a painful sounding shudder. Then his eyes scrunch shut, head hanging low on his neck.

"Daniel," he whimpers like the only thing he knows how to say is his name.

"Don't come," Daniel instructs, though he feels so close himself from looking too. At the obscene bulge of Max, knotted up just outside where he wants him. "I need you to be good."

Max nods again, the muscles of his back straining, but he doesn't wait for Daniel's instruction this time before he's making his first tentative thrust against where Daniel is trying hard to open up enough for him.

It's a slow, perfect screw inside. It has Daniel writhing, whimpering against the damp sheets, unable to do much else other than let out words of encouragement that Max seems to lap up greedily, each one making his dick twitch inside Daniel.

When his knot finally pops inside, it takes only one more grind of his rabbiting hips before Max is coming with a shout. There’s a rush of wetness, leaking out around the sides of where they are tied because there's so much and Daniel is sloppy and open. It's enough to have him tipping over the edge too.

It's the best orgasm of his life.

Immediately after he's finished shuddering through it, Max's mouth is back in him. First, on his lips, then his cheek, working his way down to suck at the mating gland on Daniel's neck. Dangerously close to doing something they would both regret in a week's time.

Daniel should tell him to stop.

"Tell me how I feel," he says instead, desperate to hear suddenly that it was just as good for Max. He'll need to go again soon, wants the confirmation to smooth his way through the next few days of endless fucking he's going to ask Max for.

"Tight," Max whines, tongue catching on Daniel's neck in a way that makes him clench around Max, making them both moan. "Warm and wet. Safe, and- The best, Daniel."

As he speaks his teeth begin grazing. Light at first, then sharper. Scraping.

"Max," Daniel warns, but all Max says is please. Hips humping against Daniel like there's anything left to give him.

He should push him away. He should tell him to stop. He should-

His legs tighten around Max's waist, holding him close. Hands cradling Max's head against his throat, it's a noise of pleasure-tinted relief they both let out when Max finally bites.

[touchstoneaf]

I really want to keep watching Hannibal and enjoying it, and I definitely *want* to be able to ship Hannigram... but I'm not sure if I can. I'm near the end of the first season, and, ok. I'm all for the trope where somebody who normally doesn't care about other humans at all because of whatever reason will in fact protect that one human to the death because they are different/special... but that's not where this is going. It seems like Hannibal has talked to himself into this idea that if he can't be friends with Will because Will is technically sort of like a patient now, then he gets to experiment on him (because he likes him too much or doesn't find him rude, so he's not going to actually kill him and take him into his body: I get that part because of the books, I totally understand what he does with his brain when he eats people. But putting that aside, having taken Will out of that category; still... experimenting is okay?)... Which I get from the standpoint of him being quite sociopathic and kind of invested in it and accepting that in himself, but it really messes with my ability as somebody who's trained in psychology and neurology to accept somebody putting someone else in such incredible danger and putting them through suffering because they're curious over and above and beyond whatever relationship they've built.

Which, ok. I understand the inversion they're doing here, where for any other person, the objective, professional thing to do would be to treat Will as a patient in that case, and help him, and Hannibal doesn't *because* , ironically, the only reason that he's interested in Will is because Will is a person he cares about, if that makes sense, so he's not able to step back and separate himself enough to be professional and offer him the appropriate treatment. I get that experimenting is his way of staying close. I know that they're creating a narrative having to do with humanity, and whether or not that is a celebrated or useless thing to somebody's perception (depending on how they view humans)... but it still bothers me, and I'm not sure if I can ship 2 people when one of them puts the other one in direct danger when they could spare them suffering.

Anybody who watched that show want to give me reasons to keep going? I do want to get to that one scene, my goal scene, what I assume is one of the main or first Murder Husbands scenes, where they're kind of cuddling after something horrific, and Will pulls Hannibal's hand around his waist asking for closeness. I'm assuming it's in s2, but I don't know if I can make it there now.

[lovecanbesostrange]

Please know that since yesterday I am mentally trapped in these two panels. There is actually a lot I will miss Krakoa for, but I also felt a bit of resentment throughout the era and this family is a big reason why. NOW that we are in the last stretch of burning it all down and the new X-launch is in reach, we'll get this wedding special. And we finally have all four together in a panel. NOW?! I bought X-Men Unlimited #4 in either fall of '94 or spring '95, solely because of the cover. 30 years of waiting. Let me live in this moment for a bit.

Look at what they are doing with the art! Oh sure, Mystique and Nightcrawler are the blue ones. Pair up Destiny and Rogue next to that to make them look similar enough as well. Only for my brain to scream "but the personalities are the other way around!!!!!!!!". Irene and Kurt work on faith and believe in possibilities and reaching out to be better. Raven and Anna Marie typing this out makes me feel weird are the ones who will kill a bitch and say they will darken their soul so others don't have to. Plus there is the element that they both have lived more than one life and their sense of self is distorted .

They've come a long way, okay?!

Yes this is exactly what it looks like. For plot reasons Nightcrawler was too weak to teleport and dangling off a cliff next to Mystique. And of course Rogue could only save one and before she made a decision Mystique said "I make this for you" and let go. I still like to believe she flipped them the bird when she fell. Because she is Mystique. "HaHa! Take this, you think I'm the worst mother ever, but you will have to live with a moment of nobility from me!" (Also Destiny knew this would come, and she fucking knows there is something good inside of Mystique. It just comes out... different. And needs very specific circumstances.)

Apart from X-Men Evolution (and the X-Men Forever alternate history comic with its very special vibes), we have never gotten any bigger acknowledgement of this family. And Irene has been cut out. Either conveniently on account of being dead, or because she's an old lady and clearly just a gal pal, ahem. (It's also very funny to me to go back to their first appearances, where the Brotherhood of Evil Mutants has the biggest Three Stooges energy ever. I needed Mystique, Destiny, Rogue, Pyro, Blob and Avalanche to have a drinking contest on Krakoa. That is what Krakoa was supposed to be about!! You needed to give us 200% domestic nonsense, fun and games. So it would hurt everybody when it was inevitably taken away. EVERYBODY needed to find happiness in that place in unconventional ways.)

Sadly not my original thought (I don't have those), but recently I read some comment where somebody said that with Irene being his bio-mother, Kurt should have inherited a type of precog-sense, a sorta spidey-sense for teleportation. A natural ability that he won't teleport into an obstacle. And I would be so on board with that. (Also funny, because Ms Marvel had that type of sense and I could pull up panels where Nightcrawler tried to trigger that in Rogue.) Would it be weird to add that now? Sure. But also super cute and helpful.

My deepest gratitude goes out to the fanartists who have doodled and sketched and painted cute family moments for them out of time. Now canon can catch up. Imagine their dinner conversations. N: "Logan is my best friend." M: "Oh, that reminds me there is this blue furball running around with his and my powers. I don't even remember if we ever had sex or not, we're so close in age and have these memory gaps." N: "Mutter, nein!" D: "You should ask him out, you two would make a cute couple. Trust me." R: "You're setting up Nightcrawler with Wolverine and keep giving me grief over Gambit?" M: "He speaks too much French! Wolverine might be Canadian, but at least he's not a Franco-Canadian!" N: "So I couldn't date Northstar?"

Do not get me wrong though. Mystique and Destiny are horrible people and they will stab others in the back. They have worked for the government, they have plotted assassinations of government people. They have fought alongside and against the X-Men. I don't want them tamed or be reasonable. I want their mess. I want them as anti-villains. Because they don't do heinous things for nothing. They like to create less horrible murder events than what could be... some writers just liked to go overboard with the scheming and forgot the sympathic undertones, which I want to cling to. And we deserved a time of peace on Krakoa. Truly imagine a Mystique who was happy on Krakoa. And the absolut batshit villainous energy when it's burned down against her will... now THAT would have been something. Instead of baking resentment into the foundation.

[emelinstriker]

Hey hi its the high dream anon again. I was curious if you put any thought into what Mei, piggy and them would be doing during esau or if they're in it, cause man, I had a dream about it and it made me cry cause angst, but I wanted to know if you had any thoughts before I shared

Okay so- I haven't really gotten to the point of expanding more on the side of the non-servants since the servants aren't even really done yet tbh- DBK and PIF would also still need some more expansion on their angst about Red Son's disappearance.

But I do have some angst in store in terms of the timeframe of Wukong bringing MK to the palace and how his friends reacted... c:

So basically, you know how MK and the others traveled to Flower Fruit Mountain to give Monkey King his staff back so he could fight the Demon Bull King? The moment where he's separated from the others and they thought he died is when MK was first fully introduced to the blue champion. Their first meeting is most definitely more different though than in the show. Sadly not as comedic fhgnfhg He also did wake up from the crash with some odd pain in his back. But it felt rather mild at first.

Anyway, after the first DBK battle and all that, the moment where Monkey King basically sealed up part of MK's powers is when he was infected. This did seal up part of his powers as planned, but not exactly like in the show. Instead, this is why ESAU!MK is such a landmine and seems to be docile, before snapping in an instant, and turning docile again. Monkey King's power only seemed to enhance MK's sudden jump in emotions, between seemingly being mentally in another world or having a sudden emotional spike aimed aimed at someone or something.

And a bit after the entire battle with the Demon Bull Family, MK just suddenly... disappeared. He already seemed a bit off during the battle, and even somewhat back when he first met the void-black eyed monkey, but then he simply went missing.

His friends got really worried and have been trying to look all over Megapolis for him, but he just seemed to have disappeared without a trace. There wasn't even a single sign of him ever having returned to his room afterwards.

It's unclear what all they've tried doing to find out where he is and most likely save him and bring him back since it felt more like he was taken away by some force. But there was indeed heartbreak, anxiety, as well as hope and a bit of lack thereof through the desperate search for the noodle delivery boy.

They didn't want to believe they've lost him just like that. They never even had any confirmation on whether or not he died, so Mei would've probably been the one to assume he got kidnapped.

And only a long while after that did they see MK again. Now as a monkey in yellow armor and void-black eyes, just like Wukong.

Mostly seeming emotionless, not remembering them. His friends.

And worst of all is that they don't know if they can even help him. Especially after he disappeared as quickly as he showed up, only having been looking for something to retrieve. Which just made them feel all the more helpless.

But he seemed to be in a form of trance with how emotionless and non-reactive he was acting while looking for something. So Tang was theorizing MK might be possessed by a monkey demon. Mei even tried grabbing him at one point to try stop him from ignoring her and he didn't seem bothered by it and just carried on with his mission he was focused on.

However, after the noodle boy disappeared, there wasn't much they could do. They didn't even know how to "bring him back to his senses" due to how they've never seen him or anyone in such a condition..

If there's typos or anythin like that- oop- but my brain is scrambled it's almost 11pm I'mma sleep now gn8 fhgnfghfnhgfg specifically only colored MK's name at the point of him already being an official servant. Same with only Wukong's name since he doesn't remember his name/title as Monkey King and therefor doesn't really associate with it.

[wisecrackzach]

Durge HCs (with appearances from Gortash)

Some hc rotating in my brain about my durge but I'm too lazy to write fics rn so this is my outlet

The Dark Urge and Gortash learned how to ballroom dance together. Gortash knew he was going to take over Baldur's Gate and figured he should know how to dance like the rich do (he's the kinda guy who believes in dressing for the job you want). So, he decides to teach himself and Durge too since he wants to rule with them. It was clumsy, messy, and got a little violent, bloody, and even erotic at times.

Gortash also made Durge do some other proper society training. Obviously, Durge wasn't built for proper society but Gortash dreamed of it and now thay dream included Durge. So, he made them also learn what fork to use for when (the beast and belle dinner scene frfr) and posture training. Durge hated this very much. They threatened Gortash life many times and many fork were stabbed into hands.

I refuse to believe that Gortash doesn't know how to lace his shirt. Therefore, I've decided that durge used to lace them that way because they were always dressed by their followers so they didn't know how. And now Gortash keeps it that way.

I 100% think that Gortash is obsessed with money and appearing rich. He buys gaudy expensive clothes but doesn't know how to wear them or the current trends because he didn't grow up rich. So, he looks kinda silly with his ugly red shoes and anxiety robe but no one dares make fun of him for it.

And because he cared about clothes and presentation he would buy Durge a lot of clothes that durge probably never wore.

Durge probably went to the shoe store Gortash's parents own when they were a kid before becoming the dark urge.

Orin and Durge are kinda like Zuko and Azula to me. Like even though they're both kinda fucked up inside and hate each other, they're still siblings. They probably had dumb arguments as teens like normal siblings but a little bloodier. And they probably braided each other hair and cared for one enough without admitted it was that. I wish so badly their could be an ending with Orin with a redeemed Durge like their was with Zuko and Azula.

Kinda fucked up but I wouldn't put it past them, Orin and Gortash hooked up after the Durge was taken. Buuut Orin would be shapeshifted into Durge for Gortash. Additionally, Orin used the Durge form to mess with Gortash just for fun.

Redeemed Durge HCs

The general public does not know about Durge being from Bhaal's temple and kinda being the cause of it all. Except for Duke Ravengard (if alive). Which makes it really awkward for a Durge romancing Wyll because his father is so clearly scared of Durge. They feel bad and they're trying to calm him but he's definitely resents them a little.

Durge probably killed Gortash's parents after the whole saving the world thing in the good ending. Like this might be a redeemed durge but they still killed them cause they still felt bad for Gortash and his parents sucked.

Durge made a memorial for Orin, Gortash, and Ketheric. Maybe they even added The Dark Urge too, just to remind themselves that's not who they are anymore.

If Durge is a warlock then original their patron is Bhaal but after they reject him Withers is their new patron.

Since they're kinda the hero of Baldur's Gate now, Durge was forced to do a bunch of public appearances and go to fancy parties and balls. Unfortunately, they've forgotten everything that Gortash taught them before about being in the upper crust so Durge is totally lost and feels like a rabid wolf in a bowtie. However, the gang helps them where they can. Primarily, Wyll and Astarion. Lae'zel offers advice but it's never any good...

[unregisteredskybox]

[@ysines becuz u asked :D] im gonna preface this rant by saying i think side order was GREAT!!!! i love roguelikes i love splatoon this was a dlc MADE for me,

that being said! the lore was obviously, unfortunately, not the focal point of the dlc, especially the final boss being [spoilers!] another sentient ai. i love the little guy, but tartar [my wife] did it better. so UNDER THE CUT will be a long rant as to what i would make for the final boss of the DLC, along with some art I made for it!!! Oh, and that final boss?

Order, a sentient collection of Eight's memories that deems ITSELF to be the real copy

alright, now that i have your attention, let me go into depth as to how this all began, side order spoilers obviously:

Marina created the Memverse to help all the octolings from the metro of course, but more specifically, her friend Eight. The entire memverse was based on their memories, using them as the "blueprint" for all memcake related technology, since theirs were fully intact. Not only that, but since Eight was not only unsanitized, in a right state of mind, and an incredibly capable fighter, they were the perfect basis for those CLIMBING the tower. if the memverse is brain surgery, than Eight's brain was the example used. makes sense? This is where thing's get weird, however. Eight's memories are embeded within the memverse itself, interconnected with all aspects of it. Functionally speaking, a part of their SOUL was in the memverse, a soul with lots of desires, dreams, and determination. They fought through kamabo co. after all, their soul wouldn't be so easily tamed. Marina allotted too much control over to Eight's memories, so as soon as the memverse was online, they were alive. Alive...

And alone.

The memverse was just booting up, and considering how big it was, it would likely take hours, maybe even days. Days that Not-Eight would have to spend wandering an unfished world alone, devoid of any meaningful colour. It was designed to be monochrome as it was easier to retain memories when climbing the spire, without significant colour to distract the climber. Worst part was, this individual was eight's memories BEFORE octo expansion, so the last thing they remember is falling after fighting agent 3, waking up here. Through time, other memories would spark creation within the world, from the sanitized octolings who helped on the project, but it was still a long and lonely time for Not-Eight. However, as I said, they're the blueprint for this world, and was interconnected with it, so they had a form of control. It wasn't a conscious decision, but rather, the unbearable feeling of loneliness caused the simulation to pull people IN, hoping to satiate the desire for connection the god of this world demanded. And, with our Eight also being integral to the memverse, the system decided the perfect fit would be to bring in their best bud Agent 4! ...Who Not-Eight didn't know because they've never met.

But, after a quick explanation, Four, smart as they are, picks up on the situation: something went wrong in the Memverse, and Eight only remembers her previous memories, and not her current ones. Alright, they've got it completely wrong, but it's the logical conclusion. The two do find solace in each other, however, as they wander the Memverse searching for...anything really. As this happens though, something starts to happen to Not-Eight. This entire time, they've felt like something was missing. Like when you wake up from a dream, and feel like you can remember it exactly, yet it immediately fades away. That, but constantly. They assume Four's story is correct, since it would explain the feeling, but it doesn't offer them any comfort. There's also Not-Eight's emotional state, since they've been wandering the memverse for days now, and Four's only done it for maybe a few hours. It's taken a toll on their mind, and by proxy, the Memverse itself. Remember, it's connected to them, their loneliness was why Four was here in the first place. As such, with their desire to be fulfilled, to remember something, the Memverse starts to overwork itself; it brings the spire into existence, the Jelletons, all of the challenges, much faster than it should, all for its God that doesn't even know it's a god in the first place. With this speed comes mistakes, or in computer terms, glitches. Just as Not-Eight's mental state effects the memverse, the memverse's stability effects Not-Eight. They start to, if only gradually, undergo a process known as Bleaching; when a Soul and Body are separated into two individual beings, the soul in the memverse, and the body outside of it. [This replaces greyscaling.] But, Not-Eight doesn't have a body, just a simulated one to house their soul. That means, while attempting to climb the spire with four, they start to deteriorate. Pieces of them glitch away, corals grow and cover their face, and features just disappear. It's an incredibly painful process, one that Four doesn't really understand, so they try to solve it in the only way they know how: getting to the top. It's hard, especially considering they have to carry Not-Eight up there, and have no colour chips [Only weapons they summoned the same way Pearl did], but they make it to the control room. Pulling up a monitor, they scroll to a section covering the Admins of the spire. Marina, Pearl, Four themselves, and...two instances of Eight. One of them is glitching out, so that's the one Four goes for, not bothering to question why there were two. They click the button to reset the palette, but...that was probably the worst thing they could've done. In an instant, Not-Eight's mind was flooded with the code of the entire memverse, it's innerworkings, what it was currently processing, and their identity. They knew within an instant that they were just MEMORIES, a shadow of another person. Yet, they also knew how much power they had over the world. Without another word, they immediately Bleached Four, creating the Parallel Canon boss and Order Defense Force. They knew that the "real" Eight would come for them, to subsume them, to replace them, so they would need defenses. Though they acted like a tough general on the outside, in reality, Order was horrified. They were, mentally, a fourteen-year old child who failed to escape to the surface and instead fell into what was practically Hell. A cold, barren landscape with no colour or emotions, a place where they would die by being assimilated into another person. The mask placed on the Parallel Canon boss wasn't something to control them, as they already had that power. Rather, it was to make other beings look more like themselves after they began to decompose. This, is Order, the commander of the spire:

The red bits on their body are pieces they can no longer use due to the Bleaching, which is basically trying to separate their soul in two, considering they don't have a body. All facial recognition they once had has been wiped clean, and they're more coral than octoling at this point. Now is when Eight and the rest of the gang enter the memverse, but how Order presents themself is different. They're still a dignified smoke cloud, as they were after Marina, but they harbor an irrational sense of hatred towards Eight, one that isn't cold or orderly. Boss fights are now, as many people have suggested, Eight fighting the person the palette belongs to. Inky clones of Marie or Big man, who dissipate into a cloud of smoke once you defeat them, with Order taunting/insulting Eight after the fact. However, palette orders are slightly changed, as the last one you get before Eights is Four's. Now, the Parallel Canon boss up to this point would've been the hairless clones specifically, because Order is saving Four for last. Once Eight reaches the top, Order does another monologue, and brings out Four in hopes that Eight's emotional attachment to them would make them give up. [It does not, as Eight is INCREDIBLY used to fighting their brainwashed friends.] Once Four is defeated, they're freed from the Bleaching/mind control, and exposes Order's identity in their fit of rage. Now, Order did genuinely like Four, so seeing them express such hatred for them puts them in a really terrible mood, especially considering Eight is one step closer to replacing them.

at this point, Order freaks out, and Eight probably would as well, considering that they look exactly like each other [Though Order's freakout is more anger and Eight's is more confusion.] Order's one goal now is to kill Eight and replace them before they can do the same. It probably has some sort of AM I Have No Mouth and I Must Scream esque monologue [can you see the inspiration? i love it so much] and deems itself to be the one true "eight." After escaping the tower, with a bit of exposition from both Four and Marina, the entire group basically figures out what's going on. Their respective reactions, however, are a little different, mainly between Eight and everyone else. Most of the group feels sympathetic for Order, as they're a 14 year old who's only known loneliness, the fake sunlight, and is currently at risk of being replaced as a person. Eight, however, has NO sympathy for Order whatsoever, an opinion they would definitely voice. They toiled and troubled through Kamabo Co and the spire just to get their memories back, but now their friends are arguing that they shouldn't? That they should remain without memories just to keep a fake person alive? I've been writing this with more of a story perspective than a gameplay one, so this would probably cause some divide in the group. How the Memverse works to me is after freeing Marina, all of them could come and go from the simulation as they please, like a normal VR. And, because I loooove angst, I could see Eight sneaking into the simulation when everyone else is gone and fighting Order themselves, since no one agrees with them.

Here's where I split the timeline a little, because honestly? I don't know how this should end! I could see two options, option 1. With plenty of time and convincing, they learn to coexist, Order eventually becoming like a little sister to Eight and the two of them living in harmony, completing each other. Option 2? One of them kills the other, permanently, and basically absorbs their mind, memories and bodies, just fitting with the personality of whoever won. IDK!!! I could draw smth for both maybe? Or if you, the lovely reader have any ideas???

And if you have any questions about this (or the aforementioned ideas) don't be afraid to drop an ask!!!!!!!! ooough that was long. thanks for reading : D