#i really wanted to do a full length chapter from the very beginning

[razrbladekiss]

HITS DIFFERENT | Chapter One - Summer Bummer

A/N: i’ve never written for mr. miller before, so i’m super nervous for how this’ll be received by everyone…but i enjoyed conjuring this up, and i hope you guys find it not-all bad! any feedback is welcome. i looove getting asks and anons. <3

WORD COUNT: 4.8k

PAIRING: no outbreak, single dad!joel x afab!reader (age gap relationship, joel is in his late forties, reader is mid-twenties.) strictly no use of y/n.

SUMMARY: your neighborly duties begin to stretch farther than simply offering a greeting whenever you and joel cross paths. after he recently becomes a single parent, you take it upon yourself to assist mr. miller in this new, completely terrifying endeavour.

WARNINGS: MINORS DNI, 18+ WORK BELOW THE CUT. angst. tiny bit of fucking on the first date (that isn’t anything reminiscent of a date LOL), fingering, finger sucking, joel being a dirty old man, unprotected piv sex. it’s kinda cute kinda cunty. i’ll leave you guys to decide what you think.

MASTERLIST

He’s the very last person that you’d be asking for help today, and he knows that. Joel knows that you’d rather claw your own eyes out, or rip your flesh away from bone and heave it in the fucking dumpster at the end of the street, than knock at his door and request his assistance. 

He’s the cranky guy that lives across the way. The guy that, really, you know very little about aside from the fact that he has an attitude problem, a daughter, and his partner doesn’t seem to show her face all that often anymore. 

You’d heard—from your busybody neighbor, Clare in No.13–that Joel’s wife had left for a younger, more attractive man from Tennessee. And though you hate to pry, and aren’t very nosy, you can’t help thinking about it the more you see Joel leave the house without the woman that was once fastened to his hip. 

Maybe that’s why he’s been so miserable lately. 

Ugh. You hate to call on him. But you’re desperate. It’s hot—like, the flaming crevices of hell are fighting to burst open the sidewalk outside of your house hot—and you’re dying. You’re sweating from places that you didn’t even know could sweat, and it’s disgusting. 

You step onto his front porch—donning a knee-length sundress and a pair of chunky sandals—and wipe moisture away from your forehead as it beads against your skin, using the back of your arm to do so. 

Joel’s house is significantly more drab than your own. It boasts the same stoney exterior as yours, and ivy flows over the eavestrough above the front door, only it's a little unkempt. And while your humble abode has so much curb appeal, the entire HOA board is actually envious, Joel’s man cave…doesn’t. It has a porch swing, a trough planter full of random succulents, a couple of Texas flags, and a door mat that simply reads “Fuck off.” Which is against the rules, you often remind him. 

But Joel doesn’t care. About anything. And that’s why you can’t find it in yourself to even try to get along with him. Not because of the doormat—you don’t care about that—but because he’s always so mean. To your neighbors, to the mailman, to anyone that sets foot on his property. 

To you.

It isn’t all the time, but you catch it every so often. The way Joel looks you up and down when you’re chatting with Mrs. Kavanagh over the fence on a Sunday afternoon about your week. How he always makes snide comments about the way you drive like a mad woman, or when you offer a friendly ‘hey’ to him each morning when you cross one another’s paths before work. 

You don’t recall a time where you pissed Joel off to the point of blatant ignorance, but you did. And though Tommy believes that the reason for his brother’s more rash behavior is the fact that he might have a crush on you, you feel otherwise. Because Joel is so rude—so crass, on occasion—and nothing about that screams “I want to fuck you.”

Or maybe it does and you’re just oblivious. But regardless, Joel is renowned—street-wide—for being a miserable old grouch. 

You can’t figure him out. And you’re not entirely sure that you want to, either. 

However, he’s the only man on this street handy enough to fix your A/C unit. 

So you press the buzzer—minding you don’t tread on a pair of worn-out work boots that are lazily placed beside the front door—and wait for your miserable neighbor to grumble and groan, when he catches sight of you through the glass. 

You smile when you see some of his daughter’s toys scattered across the wood beneath the swing. You don’t even know her name, that’s how little knowledge you have of the man that’s lived across the street from you for the past year and a half. 

Joel swings open the door, a cigarette pinched between his lips, and a rag over his shoulder. His sweat-slick torso glistens beneath the Austin sun, pecks slightly muddied with oil and whatever other substances that he’s working with, while his shirt is wrapped around his waist. 

He exhales smoke around the stick, swiftly taking it into his left hand. His right comes up—with the rag—to rub at his face. 

“What?” He rasps out. 

It kills you to admit that you think that Joel is attractive—in an unconventional, dirty old-man kinda way—but, fuck. He’s rugged, and rough, and his body looks so inviting. You hate yourself for staring at him like this. 

But you’re only human. Right? And the way he speaks to you, most certainly cancels out any physical attraction that you may have. Right? Right?

“Good Morning to you too, Miller.” Bitchy, you retort. “I just came over to ask if you’re willing to help me fix my A/C unit, but I see that you’re busy being a cunt—“

He laughs, flicking cigarette ash to the ground. Joel leans against his doorframe, watching you, watching him. 

“Your language is vile, little lady.” 

You hate when he calls you that. It’s so patronizing. It’s also one of the only times that Joel addresses you with actual words and not just a glare, or a groan.  

“I don’t care.” Trying your hand at being just as blunt as him, you say. “I just need cool air in my house because the three fans, several wet towels, and kiddie pool in my backyard just aren’t cutting it anymore, and I think I’ll die if I have to put up with the heat any longer—“

He holds a hand up, begging you to shut your mouth. 

“Fine.” He capitulates and you just blink at him, not being able to believe that he’s agreeing to help you with minimal begging and not even needing a bribe.

Because the last time you trudged over to his house in the downpour—soaked all the way through to your bra—and asked if he could do anything about the water leaking through your bedroom window, Joel billed you for your time. 

And when Clare needed her lawn mowed because her husband was out of town and she’d dislocated her shoulder, Joel sent an invoice through the door for his forty-seven minutes work. 

But you try to forget all of that. Because he’s helping you from the ‘goodness’ of his own heart. 

“Thanks.” You reply, watching him shirk the cotton from his shoulder. “I know you don’t really want to help, but I’m grateful—“

He waves you off when he shrugs the tank over his head, the material immediately sticking to his damp chest. Your eyes linger over his form for a few seconds while you fiddle with the keys between your fingers, not being able to tell if Joel is being charitable, or just trying to get you to stop complaining about the fucking weather. 

But you don’t mind. Because when he works his magic, you’ll be able to able to relax in your own living space, and sleep peacefully without worrying about waking in a ravine of your own sweat. 

“I don’t have cash, but I’ve got beer in the fridge—“

“I don’t want your booze.” He says while closing the front door. Joel traipses past you on the steps, padding toward the open garage. 

You watch him grab a box of tools, wondering how that one man acquired every single skill beneath the sun—well, all but the art of being able to properly communicate with his fucking neighbors—and offer a hand because the thing looks heavy. He waves you off—again—and you nod. 

“Well, then what do you want?”

“Nothin’.” He says honestly. “Gotta start showin’ all you people that I’m not just some haggard old man, and can actually help every once in a while.”

“Oh.”

Suddenly, you feel bad. Awful, actually. 

Had he recently become privy to the fact that everybody knew of his business? Because—try as you might to avoid the buzz—it was difficult, living on such a tight street. And the trials and tribulations of each individual living on Bluebell Drive are always public knowledge, at some point. 

It only took five days for the neighbors to find out when your last relationship fizzled out, and only seven for them to know how and why it ended. 

“We don’t all think you’re haggard.” You say, trying to lighten the mood. You see Joel’s back muscles contract as he pulls the garage door closed, and then turns back to face you with a look that resembles an emotion that you aren’t familiar with. 

“Just old?”

He starts to chuckle after a few seconds, and so do you—once you realize that he’s joking. You’re a bit more comfortable, now. Your attempt to diffuse the sudden thorny tension has worked, and Joel is starting to see that you’re not that bad. 

“I don’t think you look old.” Honestly, you tell him. You begin to walk onto the street, holding tightly the hem of your dress as a gust of wind threatens to blow it up to your waist. “How old are you, Joel? If you don’t mind me asking.”

“Not at all.” He follows you onto the path, watching the white linen lift as another gust flits over—showing just the slightest bit of pink lace against pert skin—and smiles. “I’m forty-nine. Never really cared about gettin’ older, but it’s harder with a little one.”

“How old is your little girl?”

“She’s about to turn one.” Joel says—almost gushing with pride. He pads along the pavement and toward the pathway, watching his footing because there’s so many plants and flowers that scatter the sidewalk outside of your house, and he knows that he won’t hear the end of it if he crushes one of them this morning. “She’s a handful, but she’s worth it.”

The way he speaks about his baby is enough to make you see that there is a heart beneath such a tough exterior. There’s something so vulnerable—so candid—about the way he speaks about her. It’s refreshing. 

“Does she spend much time with anyone else?”

“My brother.” He tells you. “Yeah, Tommy and his girlfriend have taken her out this mornin’ actually. To some petting zoo, I think.”

“That’s so sweet.” Truthfully, you say. You’ve never seen Joel so at peace, and you wonder why you ever hated him in the first place. 

He’s a tough nut to crack—that’s always been a given—but perhaps he’s not as hard-faced and complicated as you once thought that he might’ve been. 

“It is.” He replies. Joel follows you through the front of your very well-to-do home—wondering why he can’t seem to keep such a tidy place—and admires how much pride you take in your living space. 

Everything—from the crown molding, to the baseboards—is in a more than pristine condition, and your floor is so clean Joel swears he could eat his dinner off of it. 

“I bet it’s hard to keep up with chores when you’ve got a little one.” You say almost reading his mind. “I find it hard sometimes, and it’s just me living here.”

It sounds almost sad. He catches the way you not-so-fondly declare your living situation, as if you owe him any sort of explanation or insight into your life. You don’t. 

“It ain’t that bad. Tommy helps out a lot.” Joel tells you and you lead him up the stairs—but not before asking him if he’d mind taking off his dusty work boots. “Just neither of us are very good at cookin’. I mean, I can do the basic shit, but Tommy is fuckin’ awful. Sienna—Tommy’s girl—is an amazing cook, but she works long hours, and she’s got a kid of her own to worry about, so—“

“So you guys are just stuck living on pasta and fries?”

Joel snickers, though he does nod. He likes that you can be direct sometimes. 

“I can teach you how to cook. I mean—“ you show him to your bedroom quickly. “You’re doing me a favor by fixing my aircon, the least I can do is show you how to make a pie, or some kind of casserole that you can stick in the freezer and use in emergencies.”

“Thanks.” He’s taken aback. Not for the fact that you’re showing him your boudoir—despite that being where your faulty machine is located—but because you’re offering pleasantries where they’re not usually seen. Joel isn’t one to complain, though. 

He is, however, the type of man to somehow offend somebody on a whim, and so he shuts his mouth when you open the top of the unit. 

“It’s kinda old—ignore that, it came with the house.”

He nods, taking out one of his torches from the tool bag. 

“So…” you watch over his shoulder—irritating him a bit—as he putters and fiddles with the internal mechanisms. “Can I get you anything?”

Some fuckin’ space. 

“No thanks.”

Tight-lipped, you smile. 

Joel’s fingers work the fan to ensure that it’s still able to spin, and you marvel at his uncharacteristic gentleness. With fingers as calloused as his own, you’d be sensible in thinking that he has a tendency to be heavy handed. But apparently not. 

And that just adds to the fact—as blatant as anything—that you really don’t know the man that you share a zip code with. 

“It needs refrigerant.”

“Oh—“

“It’s a quick fix. I can run to the hardware store and pick some up—but you’re gonna have to wait ‘cus Tommy’s taken my truck.”

“We can take my car?” You offer, leaving him to mull it over for a few seconds. “But I’ve just gotten it valeted—“

“I’ll wait for my brother to get back. Should only be another few hours.”

You blink at him. Your stare is blank, completely fucking empty. How does he expect you to sit—to simmer and literally marinate—in your own sweat? 

But before you can whine and make Joel’s day ten times worse, he proposes an idea. 

“You can uphold your end of the bargain, in the meantime.” Smug, he says. “My A/C works—and I got fans in my kitchen. If you come ‘n help me out with making some cookies and a pot roast, then I can go get you what you need when Tommy gets back.”

You don’t even need to consider the offer before you’re running downstairs and grabbing vegetables and spices, and whatever else you’ll need that you know Joel won’t have in his pantry. 

He gets you to take a few beers across the street, too. And you do because you’re kind, and want Joel to feel comfortable when doing something that he’s not all too familiar with. 

You give him time to clean up when you get back to his house, and find all the appropriate utensils to start cooking. Joel spends at least fifteen minutes in the shower, and you take time to indulge yourself with the icy flurry in his kitchen. 

It’s a feeling almost orgasmic in nature. The bitterness against your skin—cold and lurid, almost—and breeze that catches the hem of your dress, hiking it to the middle of your thigh, is wonderful. You find yourself leaning into it like an embrace, letting the skin of your chest catch the cool. 

And in your moment of pure superfluity, you somehow drown out the background noise of footsteps approaching the linoleum floor of the kitchen. 

Joel clears his throat. “Nice?”

You spin around—the neckline of your dress slightly garbled—and bleed crimson into your cheeks. “Yes. It’s lovely.” You stutter, completely embarrassed. “Sorry—“

“Don’t be. You’ve been meltin’ all day, sugar. You need this.”

Sugar. Your heart skips a beat at the pet name. 

Joel walks to the refrigerator—like he hasn’t just rocked your entire fucking world after doing a brilliant job of convincing you that he hates you over the last god-knows however many months—and puts his hands on his hips. 

“Can we use Chuck Roast?”

You nod, not being able to formulate a verbal response. 

You’re still trying to cross the sugar bridge. 

“Fantastic.” He says. Joel reaches down into the cupboard beside the range and takes out a roasting tray that you’re sure has never been used before. “This?”

“Yes.” Finally, you manage. And though the cool against your flesh is lovely, you can still feel heat stippling across the apples of your cheeks. 

You wonder if he heeds it. 

Joel turns back to you with a shit-eating grin. He does. 

“I can’t wait to make this. Sarah’ll love it.”

You lift a brow. 

“My little girl. That’s her name.”

“Oh.” Your eyes soften. “That’s beautiful, Joel. She’s a cute kid.”

He nods, padding over to stand beside you at the counter. “She is. And she loves her food, so this’ll go down a damn treat…And if you’re lucky, then you can stay ‘n eat with us.”

“Joel, I couldn’t—“

He raises a hand as you pull oil, salt and some more herbs from your bag. “I insist. We don’t really know one another, and I can’t help feelin’ like we’ve got off on the wrong foot. It’s the least I can do, especially ‘cus of how nice you’ve always been to my brother.”

It’s true. Tommy has always been somebody that you’ve regarded highly, because he’s such a delight. He might’ve accidentally stumbled into your life—and your back—at the supermarket last year, but he’s been a lovely permanent fixture in your life. And you can’t seem to think of having it any other way. 

He’s a good friend. And even better confidant, with a brother whose chocolatey hues are scrutinizing your form—top to bottom—while you oil your pan, and throw in a handful of onions and carrots. 

Joel’s head grows fuzzy, the more he watches and listens to you. He can’t seem to wrangle any rational thoughts, now. Because you’re actually down-to-earth—when it’s just the two of you—and he wonders why it’s taken this long for him to invite you into his home. 

The angsty nature of your relationship has always put a downer on things. Whenever he’d catch sight of you talking to his brother, Joel’s green-eyed monster would consume him and any sense of reason would become distorted. And he always knew that he was the sole reason for the bitter tension—because you’re never this way with anybody else—but can never bring himself to admit just why he feels this way. 

Tommy’s inconceivable idea about him having a crush on you—that, really, isn’t so odd now—might be ringing true. 

You explain to Joel each step that must be taken in order to achieve the perfect pot roast. From browning the vegetables, to adding the beef and stock and all of the herbs that contribute to the meaty flavor, Joel listens intently to your every word. 

He’s completely lost in you, now. The way you speak. How you explain things with metaphors, and examples that Joel will understand. How you use the back of your arm to wipe away perspiration as you stand over the broiling pot, never taking your eyes off of the meal that you’re helping your neighbor to prepare. 

Joel is infatuated. 

“Now we let it sit for a few hours.” You say while walking over to the sink to wash your hands clean of any food. “Did you still want to make some cookies?”

“Maybe later. I’m kinda fed up of being in this kitchen now.” He lets out a laugh and puts down the big spoon that you’d given to him to stir the pot. Because that’s his job, now. “You want a drink?”

“What’ve you got?”

“Wine, beer, lemonade, orange juice.” He recites from memory. “Not sure what else is in the refrigerator.”

You glance at the clock. It’s barely pushing one in the afternoon, but you’re gasping for a cool glass of white. Or red. Or whatever the fuck Joel has cold. 

“Wine, please.”

He pulls out a bottle of Merlot—not something you’d associate with Joel—and you reach for two glasses from the open cabinet above the stove.  

“I didn’t put you down as a wine drinker, Miller.”

“Well, I guess that I’m full of surprises.” He says teasingly, sliding over your almost-completely-full beverage. 

You hum when you pull the glass up to your lips, indulging in the heavy-handed pour from the man who can’t take his fucking eyes off of you as you stand at his kitchen island, helping him make dinner. 

Joel is transfixed by the way that your chest—shiny and glistening—raises as you take each breath. How the strap on your dress falls to the middle of your arm when you lift the stem of the glass, or lower it back to the island. 

He’s kicking himself. But he’s enjoying the sight too much to look away. 

“See something you like?” You ask and lick your lips, almost pandering to the internal quandary that he has suddenly found himself entwined with. And you’re never usually this forward, so the ventricles of your heart begin to seize as the organ batters against the cage of your ribs, pulsating vividly beneath your sundress. 

Joel is surprised by the tone of your voice, almost pinching himself to ensure that this isn’t some kind of convoluted alternate reality. 

But he soon realizes that this—you in his home—is not a figment of his imagination, but something very real. 

“I guess.” Joel says, and rounds the island until he’s standing beside you. He looks you up and down, setting his glass against the wood grain. “What about you?”

You nod, letting your gaze flit between Joel’s face and the protruding bulge in the taught denim decorating the lower half of his body. He feels his heat begin to temper, getting strangled by his jeans the more he eyes you. 

Joel urges you to sit on the counter—his hands affix to the meat of your ass as you lift yourself up—and your legs instinctively wrap around his waist in a bid to pull him impossibly close to your body.

“Is this a good idea?”

“Probably not.” Joel all but growls before he’s fastening his lips to your own, and you’re moaning into his mouth while he’s starting to unbuckle the belt on his pants. 

It’s needy. God. It’s so fucking needy that you’re at risk of unraveling right here, but you manage to contain your arousal, and allow yourself to add more intensity to the embrace. 

Joel’s tongue is blanketed by the taste of wine, cigarettes, and a hint of the broth that the two of you made before he was trying to get into your panties, and you’re basking in it. You’re basking in the way that his nose pushes into your own as he adds more force—more desire—to the kiss, and how much he craves you after so many months spent despising your presence. 

“Joel—“ You whimper out when he comes up for air, putting your hands against his as he palms his cock through the material of his underwear. “Joel, this isn’t right—“

“‘Course it is, baby.” He croons in your ear, seeing the goosebumps stipple down your neck and across your shoulders. Your head falls backwards. “See how much you like it? This is just fine.”

You take a deep breath when his prick—still endowed in his Calvin’s—dances along your clothed heat. “But—But what if Tommy gets back.” 

“Then we’ll have to make it quick.” Joel states, letting his member spring free of the confines of his boxers, and your eyes widen. It’s bigger than you thought—not that you had thought much of it until this moment—and the girth is commendable. You’re not sure whether you’ll be able to take him in one fluid motion, but you don’t doubt that Joel will try. 

He lifts the hem of your dress until it’s sitting just above your panty line, and rubs his thumb over your clit that suddenly feels trapped beneath pink lace. Joel massages the bud for a few measly seconds before remembering that this was meant to be a quickie, and pushes your underwear to the side. 

“Wow.” His jaw drops. He lets his forefinger run up and down your seam, gathering the pooling wetness on the tip of it. Joel brings it to his lips and sucks it clean, before he’s going back in with another. 

Joel’s fingers pump slowly—seductively—in and out of your pussy, knuckle fucking deep until he’s pushing at the spongiest part of your cunt. He feels resistance, and you begin to tighten around him, but he continues. 

He paws at his cock in time with the hilt deep finger-fucking he’s giving you, moaning your name. You claw your nails against the counter, hardly able to hold yourself up while you begin to leak liquid arousal around Joel’s calloused fingertips that’re working you to your finish. 

“If you—Joel—don’t fuck me, I’ll cum all over your hand—“

“Is that a threat?” He digs, hastening his pace. He curls and contracts his fingers within the chasms of your core, unravelling you very quickly. You whine and write beneath his hold, striving to keep onto your dignity for a little bit longer than this. “‘Cus, darlin’, I can live with that—“

You cut him off with a moan as he pulls his fingers out and—like the dirty old man that he is—makes you suck them clean. He shoves them down the back of your throat until you’re gagging with tears in your eyes, lining his cock up at your slit while he’s choking you like a fucking masochistic psychopath. 

But it’s hot. 

Joel is so hot, and you can’t believe that you’re fucking him—in his kitchen—when, really, you should be spending your afternoon trying to get your A/C unit fixed. Because that’s the only reason you left your house, today. 

He pushes into you—filling your cunt nicely—and you can’t help hastening your movements at the first ounce of touch. Because you’re growing impatient now. He worked you to an—almost—premature release, and now he has to let you have it. 

Joel grips firmly onto the flesh of your thighs, pushing and pulling you into him as his cock spears you open—rutting into you like a mad man that hasn’t felt the warmth of a pussy since the dawn of time. But it’s been three months since Joel Miller got to dive into a woman—fingers first—and he’s determined to get every last ounce of pleasure out of you. 

“How does it feel, pretty girl? How does my cock feel, pounding into you?” He asks, knowing that you won’t be able to formulate a verbal response. Joel writhes above you when your walls start to clamp down around him, giving him the answer that he craves. 

He hums his approval—hammering into your cunt—letting his knees hit against the island as he doesn’t miss a beat. Joel pulls down the neckline of your dress and exposes the supple flesh of your breasts, immediately taking your right nipple between his thumb and forefinger. He massages pebbled skin, eliciting a string of broken moans from the deepest fissures of your chest. 

“So beautiful.” He praises, urging you to moan louder. Joel’s cock stutters at the sound. He can feel his release looming and, though he hates the thought of finishing after not even a whole five minutes of driving into you, he knows that prolonging is no longer an option. 

“Joel—I’m—gonna—“

“I know, darlin’.” He reassures, still relentlessly fucking into you. Still hitting you hilt-deep, and fighting against the fluttering walls around him. “You just let it go when you’re ready.”

And just from that—the way that his velvety tone oozes consolation—you find yourself unwillingly unraveling beneath your sexy older neighbor, giving your entire self to him on a random Saturday afternoon. 

“That’s it, baby girl. Cum for me.” Joel coaxes you through your orgasm, praising your movements and the way you shamelessly coat his cock with your sweetness that he can’t help but taste. He moans around his finger, letting his movements hinder slightly as he works toward his own release. 

But watching you—how the sensitivity is consuming you and making even the slightest touch the most overstimulating thing in the entire fucking world—is enough to drive him to the edge. 

“Give it to me, Joel. Fill me up right here.” You brandish the man whose prick is threatening to spill inside of your cunt. 

He ruts into you for a few moments more, before his spend is exploding into you like the most erotic of fireworks, and threads of cum paint your walls, thighs, and clit as he pulls out and rubs his head along your warmth one last time. 

Joel collapses into your chest, sticky and dripping lust. 

“That was amazing.” You say through bated breaths, panting like a fucking dog. 

“Bet you didn’t think an old guy could fuck that good, huh?”

Your head shakes and a small smile tugs at the corners of your lips. 

“Think we’ll have to make a thing of this, don’t you?”

Without hesitation, you’re nodding at him. Your arms lazily drape over Joel’s shoulders, and he pecks kisses along your neck and chest. “Absolutely. I’ll never be able to fuck a man my own age, now…”

For the first time since forcing his way onto this street, Joel Miller feels like he didn’t make a mistake moving back to Austin. 

[swga-ficrecs]

long fic recs

this is a list of fics that are, well, long regardless of the trope and plot. for voracious readers who aren't satisfied with short-length writing. all these fics are considered holy grails because i don't read long fics if they aren't well-written. all fics are finished unless noted otherwise.

✒️ unfinished

yoongi

third wheeling by @untaemedqueen  i absolutely love everything about this. it's a lot of my favorite tropes in one giant fic. the characters are complex and fleshed out, the pacing is good, and i love the writing style. the smut is well-written and, though the catalyst for the plot, well-paced that it doesn't feel like a smut-centric fic.

suit & tie + drabbles by @jungshookz this is is a long fic but in bullet points, so i can only imagine how long this could've been if it was written in full sentences. another fic where yoongi does a 180°, but their dynamic is adorable from the beginning. not a lot of drama, a good fic to go back to if you want something lighthearted. you can probably tell by now that i love ceo fics.

desolate by @angelicyoongie this fic is long but has a very straightforward style of writing that's easy to follow and understand. it's one of the few hybrid fics i've read where they fight for a hybrid's right to freedom. i love how much yoongi opened up and changed throughout the fic. it's one of those fics where the idea of a hybrid isn't romanticized.

the deal by @untaemedqueen a great introduction to syndicate fics if you're looking for one. this is a chaptered fic that isn't too long and is easily digestible. it doesn't touch on mafia-esque activities so much. i have a thing for romance fics where the stone cold character evolves into a romantic, and this tickles that itch.

jimin

balletteacher!jimin x ballerina!reader by @jungshookz ✒️ this bullet point mini-series should be considered a full series already, considering the length of each drabble and how many of them exist. this is a forbidden romance between a teacher and a student with different personalities, so it's interesting and endearing how they developed their feelings over time.

i want to be with you by @oddinary4bts

a lengthy oneshot of strangers-turned-lovers and how love grows slowly between two people who are worlds apart. very well-written, i dreaded how quickly i finished reading it. i love how human jimin is in this fic. the oc is very relatable as well—very realistic and not overtly romanticized. i can easily identify myself in her if i were in her shoes.

taehyung

maybe i do by @chateautae another fic that is a mix of my favorite tropes. this fic has fewer but longer chapters. another smut-filled fic that doesn't feel overworked and serves as a good break between dramatic scenes. i love how both characters developed throughout the story.

jungkook

please love me by @ahundredtimesover i loved the complexity of the characters and how they navigated through their situation. they both had to do a lot of growing up in this fic, and it was done in a well-paced manner. the drabbles also give a lot of insight to this universe. i go back and read the drabbles a lot.

evolution of a lover's heart by @jeonstudios

a heartwrenching masterpiece. i waited a long time for this to be finished, and it did not disappoint at all. one of the most emotional and resonating fics i've read so far. my heart feels for both of them so much. the kind of love that people wish they would have.

the boy with galaxies in his eyes by @oddinary4bts

an emotionally captivating and heartwrenching oneshot that i never expected to read. both characters were well-written and well-fleshed out, it was easy to fall in love with them and understand their actions. the writing itself was really magical too—flowed so smoothly, it didn't feel as long as it actually was. an absolute hidden gem that everyone should read!

4-7-8 by @jiminrings

not the longest of fics, but a great read nonetheless. i read this a while back, and it was only after i reread it that i was able to truly appreciate the characters and their development. it has a very realistic plot that tugs at my heartstrings. everyone deserves this kind of partner and love.

our first and last by @thedefinitionofbts ✨️

if you love the concept of alternate universes and soulmates, this is a must read. the author utilized scientific concepts that i had a hard time grasping and, at the same time, supported the plot really well. i'm so glad i came across this fic.

multi-member

sanguis duology + (ongoing) oneshots by @borathae absolute monster of a fic, probably one of the longest ones i've read. even though i was annoyed at mc's stubborness, i think it was a driving force throughout the fic. i also never imagined the pairings in this, but i enjoyed the ride. there were some parts where i felt the author could've woven details better to make the story smoother, but it's charming in the sense that i need to think and connect the dots from previous chapters.

a place called home by @agustdakasuga i keep re-reading this fic every few years. i loved how each hybrid came into her life and how they eventually stayed. i also appreciate how each hybrid's personality isn't necessarily stereotypical. great pacing in each chapter, good to read if you like chaptered fics that aren't very long.

the road to you by @bonvoyagenoona

a slow burn masterpiece. this fic is a rollercoaster of experiences that is complemented by terrific writing and pacing. it's very instrospective, which is something i personally like. it has a little bit of everything and a good amount of smut, but it all works wonderfully together, the words flew by quickly.

[ivystoryweaver]

With You part 13

prev next || Fic Masterlist || My Masterlist

Summary: Who left you that note on the counter? (It was Marc)

Pairings: Marc Spector x gn!reader, (Steven Grant x gn!reader, Jake Lockley x gn!reader) No use of Y/N.

Word Count: 3.4k

Content: angst, sprinkle of fluff (more under the cut)

Warnings: like a lot of cursing, spiciest chapter to date, nsfw tho the language is still gn and not overly explicit but you have been warned. Probably inaccurate DID, based on the show.

PREVIOUSLY, on "With You"...

The three of you agreed that Marc just needed some time. As always, you decided not to take it personally. This was about him.

You beat Steven home again the following evening, and this time, waiting on the kitchen counter, was an envelope bearing your name.

'On the roof -M'

Just that little scribble - Marc's handwriting, that he'd taken the time to put into an envelope for you - had you gasping for air.

You bolted for the stairwell, clad in your scrubs and in no mood to wait the brief eternity for the lift. Taking the stairs two at a time, you heaved yourself breathlessly through the rooftop door, gasping out his name.

"Marc!?"

Your husband wasn't exactly the film-style, run-and-jump-hug kind of man, so you were going to have to work very hard not to tackle him.

"Marc? It's me!" you panted, more from the anticipation than from exertion.

Unable to locate him in his usual spot, you peered over the building's edge, down to the city below - in case he was hanging there like Spider-Man?

Dumb.

Scurrying around the rooftop, you checked behind cooling towers and anything else obstructing your view.

No Marc.

Cursing under your breath, you dialed his phone, hoping maybe you missed him somehow, but knowing full well that the roof of your building wasn't that big.

No answer.

So back down you went. Maybe he wasn't fronting anymore. Sometimes it happened, whether one of them wanted it to or not. Couldn't really blame him if that were the case.

That didn't stop you from ringing his mobile again as you raced back down the stairs, narrowly missing a dangerously close face-plant situation once arriving at your floor.

"Marc!" You cried, bursting back into your flat. Releasing a shuddering sigh, your eyes burned with the beginnings of frustrated tears.

Right then, he emerged from the bathroom, soaking wet, dark ringlets dripping down his cheeks, with a white towel tucked snugly around his hips.

"I'm here," he softly responded, approaching you slowly, stopping before even reaching arm's length. Realizing you were in some sort of distress, he withdrew, almost imperceptibly.

"M-Marc," you stuttered out, unable to believe it as actually him. And not just him - who you had missed terribly for two weeks - he was soaking wet and half naked.

Swallowing hard, he pushed his fingers through his drenched curls, sprinkling the floor with water droplets and creating one hell of a sexy mess.

He figured you must be really upset with him for being gone so long.

Neither of you moved. You just stood, staring, your chest heaving with emotion as Marc wilted, drawing in on himself.

Steven would probably be here soon. You had to do something. Anything!

"I-I saw your note," you blurted. "I ran upstairs to look for you. I- "

"Shit. I left the note earlier, in case..." Figures he would have sent you up to the roof on a wild goose chase. No wonder you were keeping your distance. The quick note had replaced a long letter he had composed for you. Something to try to explain. But he tore the letter up and replaced it with the rooftop note, because the letter was utterly inadequate.

Head dropping in shame, Marc's fists clenched by his sides. "I'm sorry," he choked out.

You had to try anything. Inching forward, you moved carefully, afraid of scaring off the elusive creature he'd become these past weeks.

Stretching your fingers out slowly, you made sure he could see your incoming touch with his eyes - then asked for verbal permission before you made contact.

"Baby...is this okay?" One fingertip grazed his knuckle like a whisper.

Realizing you were here, right in front of him - touching him - soothed his fears almost instantly.

Exhaling shakily, he stared at the floor, even as he pushed his fingers up to meet your palm. With the faintest caress, you traced the length of his fingers, slowly pushing your own in between each one until your hands intertwined.

"Marc...please - I need..." Chomping down on your tongue, you called upon every restraining force in your body to keep from pushing him away.

"What?" He whispered - wide, brown eyes flickering briefly up to yours. Water droplets made his impossibly long lashes glisten. He must have quite literally run from the shower. "What do you need?"

Tugging on your intertwined fingers, he pulled you close enough to feel the steamy humidity of his solid chest.

Feeling your shaking puffs of breath cool his heated skin, he wilted inside as you squeezed your eyes shut.

"I...is it okay if I hug you?" Your body twitched with nervous energy, your glassy eyes finally locking with his.

In them, he saw raw truth. He saw you. You weren't angry with him - you were something else. Maybe you needed him to touch you, but you wouldn't violate his safety to get what you wanted. Never. The restraint you were showing him was burning you alive.

'I'll burn down the whole world first.'

Your promise to never leave him flooded back to his memory, propelling him to dip his knees and scoop you up into his arms.

"I'll get you all wet," he murmured, even while nuzzling his sopping curls against your cheek.

"Then get me wet," you groaned, fingers clawing at his shoulders, hauling him into your embrace. "Please just...stay. Just a little longer, Marc, please."

Lips parted, you mouthed the damp skin of his cheek before pressing a kiss there.

Relief surged through him, simultaneously weakening his grip on you while fortifying his desire to stay here with you.

Feeling his hold on you loosen, you cursed yourself internally, face flaming as tears burned your eyes. It must be too much for him - the frantic searching, calling out for him - the pleas to stay and now, a soft kiss to his warm skin.

"I'm sorry," you whimpered, releasing him. It hurt so badly, you could barely stand.

Playing the last 30 seconds over in his mind, Marc frantically attempted to figure out what he did wrong. What else he did wrong... You let go of him...although you apologized. For what?

"For what?" He uttered, reaching out for your arms, his fingertips electrifying your skin.

Ducking down again, his heart shattered at the sight of your tears. When would he ever stop fucking up your life?

As your gazes locked, he brushed his knuckles tenderly across your cheek. "I'm the one who's sorry. I'm so sorry."

"I missed you," you whispered, nuzzling into his touch. "Did you get my letter?"

Nodding, he dragged his fingers down the side of your neck to grasp your shoulder. "I'm sorry I did that to you, honey. I didn't mean to be gone so long. I was so tired..."

"It's okay, baby, that's why you have Steven and Jake," you attempted, your hands twitching with the pulsing need to touch him again. Touch him more.

Right. Jake.

The one Khonshu wanted. The one you wanted. The one who was now here with you, living life with you, moving his clothes into the closet, showing you who he was.

The preferred one. Giving you the love you deserved, along with Steven - so alive, full of hope. Steven was the glue in this whole thing, as much as you were. Without Steven, Marc wondered if he might somehow slip away into the recesses of his own mind, leaving your heart in more capable hands.

Moon Knight was certainly in far more capable hands.

"It shouldn't be okay," he sighed, his skin crawling uncomfortably. "It's not okay for your husband to leave you without telling you." Shaking his head, his arms dropped heavily down to his sides. "But I guess it was okay to you because you have Jake now."

Ouch.

Your lip trembled - he'd pulled away from you again. "I...I haven't had chance to talk to you, like I promised I would - about Jake." What the hell? You didn't want to talk about Jake right now, you wanted to see and feel and love Marc!

"A-are you mad at me?" You whimpered, trying to find your footing in this conversation.

"Mad at you?" He gasped in disbelief as his hands found his hips. "You're the one who should be mad. You shouldn't have to fucking live like this." Shifting from foot to foot, he grew restless, like he wanted to claw his way out of his own skin. Or have a drink. Fuck.

Blowing out a long breath, you tried to steady yourself. If you hurt his feelings, oh well. If he withdrew into his mind and you didn't see him for another couple weeks, so be it. You thrived on honesty and communication. The real. No more tiptoeing.

"Marc, I don't need for you to tell me how I should have to live. I can decide the life I want to have," you calmly explained, relaxing your body and boldly holding his gaze. "I'm not mad that you're a system or that you're going through something new or hard for you."

"I know you're not mad," he muttered. "You never are. Because I can't disappoint you or hurt you if you expect nothing from me."

He may as well have thrown ice cold water in your face and then slapped you.

But he wasn't done.

"Why do you want to be on this merry-go-round...roundabout?" He added the less American term. "My drinking, my fucking panic attacks, nightmares - all my shit," he spat, his chest heaving. "I asked myself how anyone could put up with this, or would even want to, and the answer is...obvious."

Pushing a hand back through his damp waves, he re-stated his worst fear. Something he found himself finally able to voice out loud, after two weeks in the headspace.

His dramatic pause was long enough that you cleared your throat and prompted him to go on. He may as well get all this off his chest, even if it destroyed you. "What answer is obvious?"

Daring to meet your eyes, he could see, in real time, how much he was fucking up. But it was like a plane crashing - he couldn't stop the descent.

"The answer is Steven," he rasped, his voice hoarse - thick with emotion. "You don't expect anything from me because Steven is so good to you. He's so good at everything. And now Jake..." his voice trailed off as his dark eyes clouded with moisture. "Jake stepped right into my shoes - with you, with Khonshu. I don't do anything. I don't give you anything. But you're a good person and you love me anyway. Believe, me, I could not be more grateful for that. Or any less deserving."

You were crying now - heavy, wet tears streaking your beautiful cheeks as you sank to the floor. He had actually done it. He had rendered even you speechless.

Without another word, he walked back into the bathroom and shut the door.

God, how every word out of his mouth cut you so deep. You could cry for a week, but where would that get you? He thought Jake had taken his place? If he wanted a taste of the shit you and Jake gave each other, he could have it. But no way would you spend another instant on this floor, no matter how your gut twisted with pain.

Racing over to the bathroom door, you pounded. "Marc, open the door!" You shouted, wincing as you realized this was probably the opposite of what he needed. Lowering your voice, you announced that you were coming in.

Marc was naked.

His towel was hanging up in its usual place and he was reaching for the underwear lying on the countertop.

Why was he getting dressed in the bathroom if you were married?

Whatever. Didn't matter. Fuck him.

"You don't need those," you said sharply, yanking the boxer briefs out of his grasp and tossing them aside. Pushing your fingers over the soft flesh of his abdomen, up onto his chest, your nails scraped his damp skin. "You think I don't need you, Marc?"

Gripping his face in your hands, you lifted up on your toes, crushing your mouth against his.

He was stunned for a moment, but slowly melted into your kiss as you slid your tongue over his demandingly.

His hands found your hips, gripping them tightly before yanking you hard against his chest. The two of you stumbled backwards, breaking your kiss and sending you crashing into him.

Reaching for his muscular arms to steady yourself, you panted, desperate for him in every possible way. That's when your eyes traveled down to plainly see that he wanted you too.

Jerking your scrubs off your body, Marc quickly joined you in yanking and pulling until you were as bare as he was. Between every movement, your lips chased one another's, licking and tasting - connecting at every possible point, until he pushed you up against the door.

The fire in your eyes had him weak for you.

You surprised him by returning to a deeper topic even as your bare bodies pushed and pulled against the other. "You treat my love and compassion as indifference? Fuck you."

He stilled for a moment, but you gripped his length firmly in your palm, tugging and making him groan.

"You think I should be mad?" You spat, working him roughly. "Congratulations. I am."

"Baby," he panted, his forehead dropping to rest against yours as his body submitted to your demanding touch.

"You think Jake took your place, here, with me?" You growled on his ear, biting his earlobe and tugging it between your lips. "Fuck you both. Nothing is taking you away from me."

Groaning your name, Marc's hips stuttered against your hand as his forehead dropped to your shoulder.

"You think I don't expect anything from you?" Yanking on his wet curls, you jerked his head back so you could see his face. "I really fucking do." Using your grip on his length, you guided him to where you really wanted to feel him.

"You think you don't give me anything?" You whined, as he entered you, your body shuddering with pleasure as he groaned on your ear. "You've given me everything." Moving on him slowly, you moaned as he pinned you against the bathroom door. "Give it to me, Marc."

"Fuck...baby..." he gasped, gripping your hips hard enough to bruise.

He couldn't help himself - after deep, frantic thrusts over and over - he finished before you, whimpering and desperate.

Good. You had him right where you wanted him. Vulnerable and sated. Or at least slightly relieved, maybe.

Yanking the towel off the rack, you handed it to him so he could clean up a little bit. "Go lie down on the bed," you ordered, your eyes dark and unreadable.

Swallowing, Marc nodded once and complied. As soon as he left the bathroom, you stared at yourself in the mirror, exhaling shakily. What just transpired between the two of you felt really fucking good, but it was more than sex. You were doing battle. And Marc wasn't getting out of your bed until he understood a few things.

Moments later, you climbed on top of your husband in bed, salaciously kissing him, draping your body over his.

"I want you to do something for me," you murmured after a long while, as both of your bodies stirred with new desire.

"Anything," he whispered, his hands finding their way between your legs.

Gasping as he teased you, you reveled in his touch, forgetting to finish your thought.

"What can I do, baby?" Marc hummed against your skin. Being needed by you? He lived for it.

You kissed him again, your body writhing under his caress. "I want you to stop deciding how I feel."

"O-okay," he groaned as your breath tickled his lips.

"I'm serious," you went on, forcing him still - waiting for him to look at you. "If I'm mad, I'll be mad. If I'm patient and understanding, you can't tell me to be angry."

He was trying to listen, but he really wanted you again. "Uh-huh," he ground out, thrusting upward, hoping...

"You see this?" Showing him your wedding band, you pushed your fingers through his. "You remember the vows I made?"

"Yes," he panted, desperate for you, wishing you would touch him back. "Please, honey..."

"I know," you cooed, kissing him again. His mouth, his cheek, his eyebrow. "Who did I make vows to?"

His eyes locked onto you and he melted. "Me."

"That's right," you smiled gently down at him. "So stop with all the bullshit you keep telling yourself. And stop telling me how I feel."

Feeling a little relief in the air, Marc sat up and kissed you urgently. "So damn bossy." He said this while continuing to stroke and caress you.

"You were being an asshole," you half teased, shivering as he grazed a particularly sensitive spot. "I definitely prefer your usual method of stress relief."

His eyebrows shot up playfully as he slowly removed his hand, pulling his bottom lip between his teeth. "Is that right?"

The air between you crackled with electricity as you waited...

Wetting your lips, your eyes traveled down from his warm gaze, over his sharp nose to the fullness of his parted lips. The strong line of his jaw twitched with anticipation and that wasn't the only thing that twitched under the heat of your stare.

He pounced, rolling you underneath him, face down, nuzzling into your neck as his body smothered yours. "Are you sure, baby?" He growled, licking a stripe up the side of your neck while dragging his palms up your bare thighs. "Because I need a lot of relief."

With that warning, he pushed his way inside you, groaning on your ear. His strong hand slid around your abdomen, pulling your body against his as you began moving together. "I am sorry," he breathed.

"Shut up," you gasped as the hand on your abdomen traveled down between your legs.

You and Marc stayed in bed for hours, relieving a lot of stress. He had to re-visit the shower, not that you were complaining. The two of you did finally make your way to the rooftop, after the moon shone in the dark sky.

Wrapping his arms around you from behind, Marc nuzzled your cheek with his nose. "Can I ask you something? About your letter?"

"'Course," you murmured, tracing his forearm with your fingertips.

"What did you mean when you said I was the real Moon Knight?"

You thought for a moment, thinking back through the composition of your letter to him.

"Well...I mean - when Khonshu found you - or you found him, rather - he was in search of an avatar. The only reason he still has one is because you said yes. You're still the real Moon Knight," you explained. "I'm not saying you have to be him if you don't want to be. But if Khonshu wants Jake, he should be grateful to you. Otherwise, he might still be searching for an avatar."

"I guess so," he mumbled with a sigh. "Still prefers Jake though."

"For being a deity, he is dumb as a fucking rock sometimes," you sarcastically remarked. "I know you and Jake are different, but he may have noticed you share a body. If he needs Jake, he needs you. He needs Steven."

Marc was quiet for a few minutes, but it was a calm quiet, rather than the tension from earlier.

"I don't know, babe, I...I just can't seem to find my place in all this lately. And, believe me, I know how that sounds - a new husband, saying shit like that. It's not right."

"Sweetheart, you feel how you feel," you softly responded, resting your head against the solid warmth of his chest behind you. "You don't always have to make a judgment on that. You're too hard on yourself."

"That's what Steven says," he lightly chuckled. "You're much too hard on y'self, mate."

His terrible impression of his alter made you giggle.

"Well, you know he's right," you replied, "And - the other day, Steven told me I'm always right, so...I think you should really listen to us."

"Yeah..."

You hadn't noticed at first but the two of you had started to gently sway to the muffled tune drifting out a neighbor's open window. Something from the 1970s...American.

"Can I ask you something?" You echoed his question.

"Mm-hmm," he mumbled into your hair, pulling you impossibly closer.

"Do you want to be Moon Knight?"

He didn't answer for a while. And that pretty much told you everything you needed to know.

next->

@stormydaysxx @laaundromat @kindlover @flyestvenustrap @spxctorsslxt @deezisnotreal @stevenknightmarc @imonmykneessir @marvelouslovely-barnes @evilbubu @usualsworld @rivalriotrenegade @wordacadabra @this--is--music @i-still-dont-like-your-face @cicithemess2000  @avengersinitiative2012 @lockleywife @poppyflower-22 @thursdaywritings @scoliobean peregrine-nation local-mr-frog @bitchotine @ren-ni @valkyrie05x @randomhoex @tsukkie-daisuke @thebestrouge @mintellaine am i missing anyone? dividers by saradika

[thecapricunt1616]

The Bear & His Honey - Chapter 17

♡ Chapter Inspo: Too Sweet - Hozier ; "You know, you're bright as the morning, as soft as the rain, pretty as a vine, as sweet as a grape."

♡ Summary: Winnie & Carmy attend one of their first full family functions as a couple, & Carm is anxious as shit that Donna will pop up.

♡ W/C: 10,217

♡ Posted Date: 04/16/2024

♡ A/N: WOW It has been a second since TB&HH got some love but we are so back!! I am actually really excited about this chapter! It is very long as you see, and It took a few times of scrapping & rewriting, and then I finally just said fuck it and did what I wanted to do LOL. I have been writing so much SydCarmy i've been achingg for some loveydovey Winnie & Carmy so here I am! As per usual requests are open for SydCarmy, CarmyxReader - anything really!

♡ Warnings for BTC: SmutSmutSmut (breeding kinks mentioned, car sex) - Swearing, Fluffy mush, Smoking cigarettes, talks of alcoholism, drinking

➵ 𝐂𝐡𝐞𝐜𝐤 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐦𝐲 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭 ♡

➵ 𝘊𝘭𝘪𝘤𝘬 𝘮𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘳𝘦𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 / 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘵 ♡

➵ 𝐂𝐚𝐭𝐜𝐡 𝐮𝐩 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐋𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 ♡

𝒲𝒾𝓃𝓃𝒾𝑒𝓈 𝒫.𝒪.𝒱. 🍯

Carmen and I had made it official 3 months ago now, and we were just as happytogether and obsessed with each other as the day we’d met. Today was the day that Natalie’s younger daughter, Briana or Bee as the family lovingly calls her would be getting Christened since she was officially a year old last week. 

When I returned last month from nannying in The Hamptons, Carmen had taken an entire week off permitted by Sydney being back in perfect health - and we fucked and ate and did whatever we wanted for the entire week before I had to get back to work. It was fair to say we had missed each other terribly and he’d told me I ‘wasn’t allowed to abandon him like that ever again’ even if it meant he had to pay all of my bills. 

I huffed frustratedly, my fingers beginning to cramp up from trying so many times to clasp on my simplistic gold St. Christopher medallion with my long french tips that Carmen had been insisting on paying for every 2 weeks.  

“Bear! I need help!” I called out to him where he was in the bathroom ‘borrowing’ my gel to relax his frizzy curls that he had no time to blowdry this morning. 

“what‘sup honey?” He asked as soon as I called, coming out to the bedroom where I was stood in front of my full-length mirror struggling to clasp my jewlery.

This is how he’d been for the past 2 months or so, I call, and he answers nearly faster then I can finish my request.

It didn’t matter what he was doing, not if we were in the kitchen (he did get a bit huffy if it was extra busy, but never mean, never ever mean.) But if we were at home? It was almost scary how fast he came to my call. I had even filmed a TikTok- jokingly saying- 

“My man will blindly do whatever I ask of him- watch- it’s weird as fuck- but it’s super cute. He will literally toss out whatever he’s doing and do what I say. I think he’s over in the living room drawing right now- but watch…he’s gonna shove all his colored pencils n’ shit right in his case and barrel over here like a puppy. Watch this. -”  I stepped into the hallway and flipped the camera “ oh - and he’s gonna say ‘I’m sorry’ cause he wasn’t here the second I asked him.” I whispered before calling- “ LLLLOVER?! What’re y��doin’s? Mon Ours?!” (My Bear?) down the hallway.  ‘Huuuh???’ he called back ‘WHAT’RE Y’DOING LOVE?’ I called louder. I heard wooden pencils tinkling together and muttered curses for a few moments before he appeared at the end of the hall, coming up to me “Wha?” he asked, “M’sorry honey- I couldn’t hear over the TV-“  “What are you doing?” I asked “Uhhh…drawing? Why?” He asked “need something?” “No” I shrugged, leaning against the doorframe. “Can you put it away?” I asked.  “Oh- sure gimme’ sec” he walked off to the living room for a few moments and I flipped the camera back to me,  “See he just does what I ask him to do what is this?! He just listens he’s the best listener-“ I whispered being interrupted by him asking “Hey Honey? D’you mean like away away?” He called  “No just put up. come here” I called and he comes back to me, kissing my head  “Are Y’Hungry? D’ya need y’r water filled? What day is it again? I didn’t forget plans did I?” he checked his phone and I rolled my eyes playfully  “I just wanted kisses” I puckered my lips  He gratefully partook, kissing my lips before pecking all over my face. “Did you get your period and are just needy for love and kisses or Is this a test?” I hit end on the recording, embarrassed by his stupidly good intuition. 

It had gotten nearly 4 million views, and he was baffled as to why - when I explained the likely reason to him, he could barely understand that a lot of boyfriends didn’t give a shit about their girlfriends needs- at least to the level he does, so the way girls were thirsting after him in my comment section was new to him, and slightly overwhelming for me because it had been weeks and likes and comments were still pouring in, and there were lots of people that knew who he was. I had gotten at least 100 comments reading ‘is that like- THE Carmen Berzatto? Just…chilling in your house?!’

It was also kind of annoying because people kept asking to see him now since they either thought he was hot or they wanted him to talk about cooking, but I’d never ask him to. He isn’t my show pony, I know he’s hot and talented and smart and amazing and my absolute everything - and I’d love nothing more than to share all of that with the people who we’re asking, but I knew for a fact he didn’t like being on camera and wouldn’t be comfortable knowing 300 thousand people were gonna be seeing it- and possibly many, many more. 

He thought it was sweet and funny that after when I told him I pranked him or more specifically, giggly telling him ‘you got-got bear, I got you so good’ that me ‘pranking’ him was asking him to put away his colored pencils and kiss me for the sake of it - when in culinary school his ‘friends’ idea of a prank was to dull out all of his knives so he’d have to spend nearly the whole day resharpening them and failing an assignment because of it.  

 “Oh, that? Here honey gimme” he takes the ends of the dainty chain from my fingers, standing behind me and clasping it easily before adjusting the charm gently to the middle before and kissing the top of my head. “Y’nails’re too long f’that Angel” he muttered, looking at the necklace in the mirror and rubbing over my lower stomach lovingly.  

He did that move a lot ever since he started getting more comfortable when we made things official. Especially when he knew I was ovulating during sex. It drove me absolutely insane  - he loved to do it while saying something along the lines of;

 ‘Y’want me t’fuck y’full pretty girl? Yeah? You wanna show everyone y’mine honey? Who you belong to princess? Are y’gonna have my babies? Mmm? Say it— Y’love it when I fuck y’like this, like a fuckin’ cat in heat. Ye’- is that it? Are you a filthy little fuckin animal? My pretty little pet?’

While he fucked me absolutely brainless. Before I went to my nanny gig, one day he peered over my shoulder while I was reading one of my fantasy books and saw the words mating press - he was immediately interested and very shyly asked what it was, before asking me to help show him what he needed to do to help me achieve that very position.

Surprisingly- after I had explained what the position was for in the books- it was the first time he didn’t quite literally leave or get overly anxious about the thought of us having children - even if it was just purely dirty talk. He just once again made sure that I was on birth control, and from there it became one of our very favorite positions. 

I’d never fucked a man before that made me promise to have his babies someday before cumming in me as deep as he could and rubbing over my extremely vacant womb due to being so pussy-drunk. All while whispering how pretty I’d be swollen with his seed- worshiping me like I’d already been carrying the child- muttering about how hot it would be if I were to be all big-bellied carrying his baby. Maybe it was his kink? Surely it was just a kink and it was the moment talking not his actual desires. 

It must be- because he’d been so adamant just a few months ago that he was ‘absolutely sure’ he didn’t want children so badly we nearly got into an argument over it when I asked him to just think about it outside of the realm of me. So he likely was simply turned on by the thought of a ‘nuclear domestic life’ just like any other person is. 

“Thank you, you look so nice, Bear. I can’t wait until it’s over though cause I wanna touch your hair. Can’t though cause it has all the stuff in it” I said, turning around and gently pushing back the stray sticky curl that had fallen out of place and was laying on his forehead adorably. 

“Mm Church isn’t my favorite pastime cause I have to have all the bullshit on. but you look…” he takes me in slowly, his hand sliding down over the curve of my waist. “Fuckin perfect. Can’t believe y’mine baby” he leans in for a kiss “wait- this stuff, can I kiss you?” He alludes to my lipstick which was likely about the same shade of red as my cheeks now due to his compliments. 

“Find out” I said and pulled him by his jacket, kissing him deeply. He hummed, squeezing my bum and pulling my hips into his, squeezing them gently. 

He was always extra careful to ask when I had makeup on and was getting ready to go out, that he could kiss me without messing anything up. He would sit and watch me do my makeup when going out for girls nights, so was very understanding and appreciative of the effort and time that went into it. He would help me pick out eyeshadow colors sometimes, but his favorite part was when I did lipstick. He tells me it ‘changes everything’ which makes me giggle, because that’s exactly what my grandma says. 

I pull away after a few moments, “how’s the makeup?” I tease, checking in the mirror. “Lady Gaga knows what she’s doing babe” I gently dab below my lip with my beauty blender where he had gotten some of my foundation by mistake in the heated lip to lip transaction. 

“The same one that did the poker face song?” He asked and I laugh a bit 

“If that’s all you know her by then we still  have a lot to learn about pop culture. But yes, the Gaga baby” I fixed up my lipliner a bit and he watched me in the mirror as I meticulously did so. 

“Mm I remember that and the weird meat dress. Fuck you look amazing baby here lemme see” he turns me around when I put the pencil down, gently brushing my fringe from my eyes. “You are so beautiful baby, fuckin’ breathtaking” he kissed my forehead gently. 

I smiled, holding his hands in mine and squeezing gently “you look very handsome baby, so handsome” I adjusted his tie and kissed his jaw gently. My alarm went off for 6:45 signaling it was time for us to leave, the sound causing me to jump a bit before I giggle shyly “Sorry. We’d better go” I grabbed my purse, making sure I had everything i’d need for the day. 

“Y’still wanna get coffee honey?” He asked as he put his dress shoes on. 

I nod “yeah- if I can get these stupid shoes on with this dress in time” I sat down on the bed slipping my foot in and trying to buckle the stupid tiny buckle with my nails, they were super pretty and Carm loved the scratches he got with them, but in terms of tiny things I always found myself struggling. 

“Here-“ he knelt in front of me “Hold this Honey” he hands me the hem of my dress and I pulled it up for him. He carefully adjusted the straps so they were straight, before buckling it “that good? Y’want ‘em tighter?” He asks and I shook my head 

“No- no. Thank you it’s perfect baby” I offer my other foot to him and he repeated the process. “You’re the best, Carmy, really. Sorry I keep needing your help when I go out” I said, kissing his cheek gently before he got up. 

“Can’t blame yourself baby those things are… ridiculous. I dunno how they’re comfortable” he outstretched his hand to help me up. 

I took it and kiss his lips lovingly once he pulled me up. “They aren’t. They just look pretty” I grab my purse once more, spraying on my perfume. “Now we’re ready” I said with a smile.

We got to the church with 5 minutes to spare before the service started, so we were able to find the back row where Richie, Eva, some random blonde that I’d assumed must be Eva’s mom, Syd, Fak, Natalie, and Pete, both of them with a kid in their lap were sitting. 

Sugar spotted us first “Oh! Yay! You made it sweetheart how are you? You look so beautiful” she smiled 

“Oh my gosh no way you all look so cute I love her little dress ohhh my gosh Carmy look at her!” I said happily 

“Yeah - Hey, Uh- Moms not-“ Carmy asked her quietly. 

“Bear - “ she almost laughed “She isn’t around until she can prove to me she's sober again” she said before turning to Fak who was sat next to her. “Honey, move down please! Look at all that row sweetheart” she nudged him with her elbow. 

“Hi Winnie the Pooh” Fak said, sliding down enough for Carm and I to squeeze in next to sugar.

“Hey Neil! Hope you’re well it’s nice to see you.” I sit down next to Carmy, crossing my legs.

“So is she your girlfriend yet?” He asked Carmy, nudging his shoulder gently. 

Carmy sighed deeply. “Yes, yes Fak. She’s my girlfriend. And we’re at church buddy. So it’s quiet time yeah?” He asked and I couldn’t help but stifle a giggle how he took after Sugars tone with him. 

“Thanks Winnie nice to see You too- Your dress is pretty” he told me and I smiled 

“Aww! Thanks bestie. Love the suit you look snappy” I said and held Carmys hand, kissing it gently. 

“It’s great t’see you guys!” Syd waves and I lean forward to see her better - But Carmy didn’t even say anything.

I look at him, seeing he was totally not here. “babe” I ask and he breaks his spaced out gaze on the large stained glass window up front and looked at me.  

“Mm?” He looks over at me. I rubbed his hand gently. 

“Everything okay sweets?” I asked softly and he nodded a bit.

“Talk ‘bout it later” he said and squeezed my hand gently. 

“Okay…” I said and hooked our arms together before relacing our fingers. 

I watched as he went back to staring at the same stained glass window, and resumed that way throughout the entire service unless we were participating in something. 

It worried me a bit, it seemed like he was disassociating - as to avoid what I wasn’t sure.

When we got back to the car I crossed my legs, buckling my seatbelt quietly and holding my purse in my lap. “What’s goin on baby?” I asked. 

He shrugged, shaking his head a bit and starting the car. “Nothin.” He said plainly 

“Mmm.” I mutter. “Funny cause you said we’d talk about it later” I said casually, pulling down the visor mirror on my side, reapplying my lipliner. 

“Talkin ‘bout it now. And I said- nothin” he said shortly, starting the van and backing out of the parking spot. 

“Ahhh of course because saying “nothings wrong” would have been too easy so instead- you added 3 extra words to tell me we’d talk about it now?” I pushed, carefully lining below my bottom lip. 

“D’you ever drop anything?” He asked, annoyance lacing his tone. 

“Mmm- no. I don’t..” I grinned teasingly 

“It’s none of y’fuckin concern that’s what it is.” He said, rolling the window down and lighting a cigarette as we pulled up to a stoplight. 

“Ohhh! Meeeeowww!” I teased, fishing my phone out of my purse. “Someone’s in a sour mood.” I tut, “I never got the invite to your pity party- did you forget about me lovey?” I teased. 

He rolled his eyes, gripping the steering wheel with his right hand. “You love pushing my fuckin’ buttons.” He muttered before taking a drag. 

“I loooove it. You know, you’ve yet to rage fuck me yet. Which is surprising- you’re 90% rage, and I’ve only gotten the 10% of soft.” I said, running my hand up his thigh until I got to his bulge, slowly stroking it over in his slacks. 

“You couldn’t fucking handle it.” He said, grabbing my wrist. “Don’t fuckin test me.” He grumbled, flicking my hand into my lap and hitting the gas as the light turned green. 

“Oh- oh- is that a challenge, Bear. You think I can’t take you? That I - can’t take you?” I scoffed, dropping my phone in the cup holder. “I find that a little rude. Where have your manners gone?” I drag my nails over the inside of his thigh, smiling to myself as his breath hitches.  I knew he was stuck in a loop about something negative- and since he didn’t want to talk about it- he likely needed to fuck about it. It was a system we’d created- kind of an unspoken one. But he would ruminate, and brood like a big baby - if I couldn’t coax it out of him with my words, he’d probably been so pent up with nowhere to put it so he needed to release all those hormones before he could get it off his tongue. He always did, after a long day the pillow talk we had would usually be intense feelings of self-doubt and fear of the restaurant failing- even though it was never close to failing. He’s worried about who knows what and needs to escape with something he has that will remain consistent, and something very accessible- and that something usually happens to be me.

“I’m fuckin driving” he said, but his growing arousal beneath my palm begged for me to continue. 

“Mmhmmm? And?” I asked, gripping him firmly at the base of his cock that was prominently showing now. 

“Y’fuckin- Jesus Christ” he hissed, holding the steering wheel with a white knuckle grasp. “Such a little fuckin-“ he gasped lightly as I grip him tighter. 

“What” I goad. “What? Finish the sentence, Carmy.” I tease, running my thumb along the vein I’d already memorized, feeling his member jump in the grip of my hand at the action. 

“Dirty fucking whore.” He hissed, cheeks pink at the admission. 

I giggled. “Awww- it’s nice to finally hear you say it” I teased, dragging the edge of my nail along his rock hard head

“J-Just-” he swallowed thickly, eyes locked on the road, refusing to break to meet my gaze

“Juuuust” I goaded, adding pressure and he whimpered

“Y’re fuckin evil” he said through clenched teeth, swallowing thickly and shaking his head lightly. “I said I’m fuckin driving.” he repeated, hips involuntarily bucking up into my grasp.

“So?” I asked, gently dragging my thumb over his waistband “Did you want me to stop, Bear?” I asked and he inhaled sharply, slightly shaking his head. 

“Ohhhh-oh! So you like when i’m a dirty fucking whore for you?” I questioned, my hand stilling over his goosebump-ridden skin.

“Do what y’gonna fuckin do” he muttered, swallowing thickly. 

“Fine” I said, unbuckling my seatbelt and pulling my skirt up my waist, slipping my panties and nylons down in one go after kicking off my heels into the footwell of the passenger side. 

“What’re you-“ he glanced over at me as I hiked my right leg up on the dashboard after pushing my seat back to lay down. 

“I’m doing what I’m gonna do. You said it yourself Bear - I’m a dirty fucking whore” I responded, angling myself so he could see and spreading myself out for him “so wet for you” I said in a sultry tone, gathering the sticky slick on my middle and forefingers, before bringing it right in front of his lips. 

“Don’t you love how dirty I am?” I teased, rubbing the sticky arousal on his bottom lip

He flicked his cigarette out the window and opened his mouth, taking my digits in and sucking them, humming in satisfaction at the taste “yeah I know you fucking love it. It’s why we’re perfect together you’re just as much a freak as I am” I said, pushing my fingers further and he widened his jaw wantingly. 

I gasped a bit as he bit down on my fingers “Such an animal” I giggle squeezing his cheeks and rubbing my spit slicked fingers down his chin when he released me 

“You really wanna go right now when I’m tellin you I’m not in a good mood?” He asked

“If you’re in the mood- I want you. Otherwise no thanks but I think you’d have said something before now” I pulled my dress out of the way of my core. “You aren’t gonna look? You always tell me how pretty I am baby” I gently spread my folds, rubbing my wet cold middle finger over my clit gently “mmm it’s so much better when you do it Carmy, don’t you wanna touch me?” I begged

He glanced over at me, tugging his lip between his teeth as he fans over my position, eyes trailing down to my pussy.. “You can come up with what we were doin’ since you wanna be so fuckin’ needy and can’t wait a few hours. Little sex demon” he said, slowing down and turning into a post office parking lot that was deserted due to it being a Sunday. 

“I wouldn’t be so needy if you didn’t look so angry and your arms didn’t look so good in that jacket” I said, crawling in the back and sitting on the floor excitedly 

“One second anger scares you the next it turns you on- I can’t fuckin figure you out” he said, shutting the van off and getting out of the drivers side, and quickly opening and shutting the back sliding door when he got in.. 

“Yelling scares me but I think being your little stress toy is sexy cause you appreciate it” I lay back when he took off his jacket, laying it down for me like a pillow.

“Whats the word?” he asked before kissing my neck with nipping, hot, wet kisses.

“First - gentle on the neck and leaving marks baby were gonna be with your family, and second orchid” I assured and he hiked up my skirt.

“Good Girl” he said and spread my legs open, his tattooed hand finding my soaked core immediately and dragging his middle and ring finger up the slick, rubbing over my clit with quick light circles making my toes curl .  

I gasped, already feeling like every nerve in my body was on fire. He had managed in our times together to memorize every single thing that made me creen in pleasure. He wanted me soaked before he’d barely even touched me, because that gave him the satisfaction of having memorized my body and the way it reacts to every little possible stimulation. 

“Your good girl” I breathed, tugging up my skirt higher so he can kiss over my stomach and hips how he usually did, during moments of intimacy he wanted to feel and taste every part of me I would let him - it felt more like worshiping if I was honest with myself, but when I thought about it I would get way too worked up. 

“That’s right princess” he gently nips on my skin. “How could I ever be rough w’you? Mmm? When y’so fuckin sweet? And so fuckin good f’me?” He hums, settling my thighs around his hips. 

I giggled, breaking up the gel in his hair as he kissed over my naval and hips, and gently massaging his scalp. His eyes fluttered shut in bliss, his kisses slowing before resting his forehead on my stomach and letting out a satisfied sigh at the action “Youre gonna have freshly fucked hair” I teased. 

“Don’t care. Mm keep touchin’ me please. Fuck baby-“ he rested his chin on my flesh looking up at me “I missed y’touchin me. So bad. Just touch me however you want” he begged, causing me to smile, a warm loving blush heating my cheeks. 

“You like when I touch you?” I gently caress his cheek and he leaned into it like a man starved. 

“I love it. I need it baby- really. I miss it so bad when y’cant.” He took my hand, kissing my palm. “I need you” he said softly. 

I swallowed hard, trying to relieve the growing lump in my throat and I cupped his cheeks lovingly. “I’m always here” I said softly and pulled him into a sweet messy wanting kiss 

I wrapped my arms around his back, gently playing with the hair at the base of his neck, smiling into his lips when I felt the goosebumps adorning his neck. “The reason we’re back here is cause I need you” I said sultrily in the shell of his ear, kissing his jaw gently. 

“I know ‘m sorry” he unbuttoned his pants and I cup his jaw bringing his attention back to me. 

“That’s not how I meant it bear” I said softly, gently moving his hands out of the way and unzipping them for him. “I love touching you, you know what right?” I asked as I untucked his shirt, gently running my hands up his toned stomach, feeling him lightly shiver beneath me 

“Uh- yeah…yeah- I do- I just sometimes feel like…I dunno. I ask f’r too much” he said quietly 

I rubbed over his abs, gently squeezing his hips and trailing my palms over his ribs beneath the loose fabric. “When do you ever even ask baby? I offer. I know you like it so I do it” I pull him closer, kissing the exposed bit of chest from the top 2 buttons being opened. 

“Is it weird when I do ask?” he questioned softly and I look up at him. 

“No. It’s not, it’s sweet and it’s healthy, Carm. It’s good to be loved” I gently kiss his neck and he guided me to lay, pushing himself free of his boxers and slacks, and lining himself up before gently pushing in. 

I moaned out, locking my legs around his waist and pulling myself closer to nudge him deeper inside, arching my hips and whining as I feel the tip of his cock right over that spongy spot that made me sob and shake with pleasure 

“You are fuckin greedy t’day Jesus Christ” he breathed, holding my hips for me “so fuckin pretty” he said as he pulls out halfway before rutting into that spot and I gasp sharply 

“Fuuuuck oh oh- you’re fucked” I whine to which he chuckled, a satisfied grin on his face. 

“You said you could handle this babe” he reminded, pushing in deeper but slowly as to not hurt me, resting his hand at the base of my stomach. “Fuuuck I love when y’let me have y’like this baby I can get so fuckin’ deep feel this” he said, taking my hand and resting it at the base of my stomach, slowly thrusting in. 

I felt the movement beneath my hand, my jaw slack and the most lewd pornographic noises coming from my chest “s-so- so big” I whined out dropping my head back in bliss and eyes fluttering shut 

“That’s right baby my good fuckin’ girl- my fuckin girl. Y’take me so fuckin well princess like Y’re fuckin made for me ye? Like y’re made t’take my fuckin’ cock? Mm? Made f’me to fill with my cum?” He asked as he started the relentless pace. 

I couldn’t even think - I just nod quickly in response “made f-uckkk yes- yesyesyesyes made for you I’m yours” I slurred, reaching down and rubbing my clit causing me to clench around him tightly 

He grunted, looking down and watching my fingers spreading around his cock as I rubbed myself “yeah? Y’like bein’ mine? Mmm? Y’like that I fuckin own this pussy? So goddamn greedy - needin’ me t’fill you up twice already today and it's not even lunch” He thrusts harder causing my back to arch sharply

Tears were forming in the corners of my eyes now at the waves of pleasure that were so intense the air around us felt like it was crackling with electricity.  I opened my eyes once more to find his gaze locked on my cunt, mesmerized by the thick white strings of arousal sticking to the base of his cock before snapping as he thrusted in and out. 

“Mmm isn’t it so fucking pretty were so pretty together baby” I moved my fingers faster, sitting up on my other elbow and nearly collapsing again at the new pleasure it brought. 

“Woah” he noticed, quickly wrapping an arm around my back and my head drops back to meet his gaze as he stopped thrusting 

“Fuck me oh my god fuck me- I- can you please? My- my knees can’t touch the floor my thighs are too short when I’m up on your lap you’re right i’m so fucking greedy for you I need you please fill me up please claim me”” I said in a needy tone, my breath rapid and uneven. 

“You are going to be the death of me” he groaned, holding the backs of my thighs and sitting me up on his hips with his palms on my ass, before leaning on the back wall of the van and thrusting up into me, hard and fast.

My eyes nearly rolled back before closing, my jaw slack with pleasure. I nodded quickly, tears spilling over my cheeks as he continued. Fireworks and stars float behind my eyes and I clutch the seat next to us with a white knuckle grasp to have some tether to my body. 

“So fuckin pretty” he grunted, fucking up into me harder “y’want me to fill this pretty pussy up? Mmm? Y’want me to fuckin make sure y’drippin the rest of the day? My little whore” he kissed my neck roughly and I couldn’t even warn him before my hips were shaking and my core was squeezing and releasing around him in a way that told him I’d reached my peak. 

My whole body felt waves of heat rushing through, everything felt so good it was starting to feel painful but I couldn’t ask for him to stop- I wouldn’t. I had never felt so good before, physically, mentally, emotionally. I couldn’t stop it even if I tried. The words fell out of me before I’d even registered the thought wasn’t just a thought, and was really coming out of my mouth. 

“I fucking love you” I cried out. 3 months. Three. That was it. That was all I’d had of him, and I’d known I’d loved him for probably 2 of those months. And had bitten my tongue and avoided the issue and successfully evaded his weird roundabout questions that would allude to me being in love with him until now. So if he didn’t feel the same, this was all we had, and all and would ever get. 

“Shit. Say it. Say it again baby been wantin’ it so fuckin’ long now” he rasped. I opened up my eyes, looking up at him to see his gaze was locked on me, like I had hung the sun in the sky just for him. 

“I love you Carmen.” I said honestly and he moaned, resting his forehead on mine, looking into my eyes. I smelt his minty breath mingling with mine, hot as it fanned my lips. 

“Yeah? Say it- fuck- say it one more time angel” he said, hips stuttering and thrusts becoming more sloppy. 

I cupped his cheeks, feeling as if we were the only 2 people left on earth and all we had was time.  “I fucking love you, bear” I said while looking into his eyes and he whined quietly, spilling into me so much that it began leaking out onto his thighs and the curve of my ass before he even pulled out and drawing me into a deep, fervent, wanting kiss, wrapping his strong arms around me and keeping his cock nestled deep inside as we exchanged hot, loving, messy kisses.

“Do you- do you really?” he asked when we pulled away to breathe, both of our chests moving up and down rapidly. 

I nodded, swallowing thickly “It- It slipped out…I didn’t mean to tell you like this - I wasn’t thinking- I know it scares you- I- I wont say it again if it-” he stops me by kissing me again, slipping his tongue over mine and wrapping me in a bear hug, leaning against the door and sucking on my tongue gently.

I hum in satisfaction, closing my eyes and letting him have me. “Say it whenever you want, please” he said softly when he finally pulled away. 

“You- you don’t think you can say it?” I asked, biting the inside of my lip nervously.

I had a feeling he was in love with me, but I’d been here before with someone and the L word scared them off. But the guy has been essentially living with me since we started seeing eachother - what else would that be!?

“No - No…honey thats not- I-I love you - ‘msorry, I thought you could… that you could tell what else should I do?” he asked and I smiled wide.

“Saying it was the only thing you were missing- oh and maybe coming home on time once in a while to show me you actually like being there- but nothing to be sorry for, I see you baby” I assured him, gently kissing his sticky sweaty cheek. 

I felt like I was in the most beautiful dream ever, There was nothing more that I wanted than him, and this.

He buried his face in my neck, sniffling softly and remaining quiet for a few minutes, before saying “We should go home and change, theres definitely cum all over that dress” he joked. His voice sounded slightly horse, and when I sat up to look at him he quickly wiped away a tear staining his cheek.

“I love you, and you don’t have to say it all the time baby - I’ll probably say it a lot more than you cause it’s just how I am, and I know you, and how you are. You show me with your actions how much you love me, and thats what I need. I know baby, I know you love me. I can tell you love me, every day” I wiped the stray tears from his cheeks with the pads of my thumbs, gently cupping his jaw. 

“How could you know if I never said it?” he asked and rested his hands on my lower back.

I took a deep breath, sighing softly as I thought with a small smile on my lips “Lets see… you always make me lunch- and dinner - you always watch shows I wanna watch, you actually listen to me when I talk about them- and notice things, and ask me questions. You always say thank you, even for small silly things like when I rub your hair, or when I make you your coffee. You compliment my crochet and costume making, and ask me about the books I read. You bring Persephone little toys and treats on the weekends when you have to hang out with her while I do inventory with Sadie. You always push yourself for me- even though I never ask you to, like bringing me flowers- or that time you bought my perfume because it was getting low and didn't say anything? You show me, Carmy. Every day, to be loved is to be seen. And you are always showing me that you see things about me that I didn’t notice you could even see because I thought I hid them well enough” I asked and he nodded a bit

“Now that you mention it… I guess I didn’t know what it meant, I knew I felt for you like- differently… then anyone before. But I felt like it would be too fair to call it love” he said and I pout a bit

“What do you mean, fair?” I asked and he rubs up my back gently with flat palms

“Fair to me. I didn’t think that something that felt so good could be love, that it was like- the universe fuckin’ w’me again. And something er someone  would take you away from me as soon as I called it love” he said and I gently kiss his chin, then lips, then the tip of his nose.

“Love can be scary, I keep waiting for me to do something and you just…turn. Like- like a monster or something. But it's not to do with you- because I can’t ever see you doing that, It’s just my past relationships scarred me so deeply that I'm just waiting. Like the day I dropped the cup at the restaurant, I thought you were gonna yell at me for some reason- even though you've never yelled at me. My ex would have yelled at me for hours over that- but you didn’t. You told me it was okay, and you cleaned it up and never rubbed it in my face or anything. That healed something in me, like- i’m not so scared to make a mistake around you anymore, cause it’s happened and you reacted healthily. So every time you think I'm going to leave, and I don't- it's going to heal a small part of a fear like that in you, and make this all alot less scary. At least- that's what my therapist says” I shruged a bit. 

“I’m glad it’s with you. Being in love.” he said softly, eyes fluttering shut as I gently brushed my fingers through his messy hair to look a bit more contained. 

I smiled, kissing his forehead gently “I’m glad too, Bear. I wouldn’t wanna love anyone else”

“Where the fuck have you guys been? Hey sweetheart- did you go back home and change?” Richie asks as we came in the kitchen.

I was baring a bouquet of flowers and Carmy was holding a 2 bottles of wine “sorry! Yeah my heels were bugging me it’s my fault” I said giving him a hug and he kisses my cheek

“You better not be pregnant yet the holidays are the worst time - also Richie will you quiet your loud mouth I just put Bee down” Natalie says as she comes by giving me a kiss on the cheek and ruffling Carm’s hair 

“Wine? Look at you Bear she’s turned you into a real adult- takin’ gifts to parties like a big boy” she teased, taking the bottles and he rolled his eyes 

“She’s not pregnant and you’re not funny” he took my hand, pulling me to him and rubbing my back gently.

That was another thing- the family now saw us as the next couple to get pregnant - even though we’d hardly been together a year - Because ‘they dont want our kids to be the only cousins being left out when the girls are older, I guess maybe I should take it as a good thing and being they’ve accepted me as one of theirs

“Let’s sneak t’the backyard before they can rope me in t’somethin yeah?” He whispered in my ear 

“Okay” I smiled, kissing his cheek gently and lacing our fingers together as he leads us towards the back door

“Hey! Carm I didn’t know you were coming who’s this?” An older man says and I turned around 

“I didn’t know you were comin’ hey Unc- this is my girlfriend, Winnie” he said and I smiled 

“Hi” I wave shyly to the older man. I’d never seen him before, Carmy did mention though he had been paying an Uncle Jimmy back for money Mikey had borrowed for the restaurant but no one else - so this must be him.

“Ahhhh okay, Hello Winnie - what a name. You are just a sweetheart, Is this one treatin’ you good? I can knock some sense into ‘em. You ever need anything you come find Jimmy okay?” he teased and I smiled a bit

“He is nothing short of lovely but I promise I’ll pass word if that ever changes and take you up on the offer” I joked and he smiled 

“She’s gonna fit in just fine here, Carm. Where’d you find this one?” He asked and Carm shrugged a bit. 

“Just. Around. Moms not coming is she?” Carmy asked and I looked up at him

“Who knows kid. She told me she’s off the bottle but- who knows” he said with a shrug and Carm nodded a bit. 

“Don’t tell ‘em where we went, please” he opened the back door, tugging me outside and shutting it behind us. 

“If my mom comes we’re leaving” he said and I crossed my arms. 

“You don’t want me to meet her but you love me?” I asked and he chuckled dryly.

He hadn’t spoken much about her, the most I’d known was that she’s a raging alcoholic- had driven a car through their family home at one point, but when Natalie had her first baby she cleaned up for about 6 months, then fell off again- and has been going months in addiction, then trying to clean up for a birthday or something like this, and the cycle maintains that way. 

He digs his cigarettes out of his jeans, pulling one out. “I don’t want you to meet her because I love you. Don’t pull that. Is that gonna be a fuckin’ card for you now because I was honest?” He stuck it between his lips and lit it.

I felt my stomach twist. He was already starting to fly off the handle and say things he didn’t mean. That little comment would absolutely be a deeper conversation when we did get home - because I didn’t appreciate it in the slightest.

“A card?” I scoff “what do you mean card. This isn’t a game, Carm, this is our lives, There are no cards.” I took a deep breath to try and regulate myself. “You don’t really talk about her. And I don’t want to push you- but what is it is she mean? Is it just that you think she’s gonna hate me?” I questioned and he rubbed over his forehead, exhaling smoke away from us.

“Winnie it’s not even- this isn’t even the fuckin place t’talk about it. No she’s not- she’s not fuckin mean she just has issues okay. And she - she fuckin yells it’s more for your sake, she’s all fuckin loud and I don’t want her freakin you out and - I— I just don’t want her showing up and if she does oh well, we’ll be gone before she knew we were here. I don’t even want her knowing about you. Not right now at least. Whenever we get married or whatever the fuck - sure I’ll tell ‘er, but before then she just has the potential of fucking this up” he said before taking a long drag of his cigarette. 

Of course. This was all leading back to his abandonment issues. Most of the issues in our relationship related back to my anxiety around death, and his anxiety around being left alone because he’s ‘not good enough’ in his mind. We couldn’t keep basing our relationship around fears or we’d never grow- so, I pushed.

“Your mom isn’t gonna scare me away. I don’t care if she is a screamer. My mom was a screamer. Chris didn’t have to deal with it- I did. By myself. So trust that I can handle it. I don’t want you getting comfortable yelling at me because I have to live with you. But I love you, and I love everyone else we’ve met in your family, and so I’m sure I will like her if she shows up.” I said and he shook his head. 

“No. No. I don’t wanna hear what she has T’say babe. Good- thank you- I’m glad - I-I’m happy you aren’t gonna fuckin leave but I don’t want to hear her fuckin mouth, Winnie. Shes gonna have somethin to say about you, about us. And I- I can’t handle it. I care about you too much and I won’t be able to keep my mouth shut and I’m gonna ruin the entire night. If she chooses me the whole night will get ruined because if she chooses me you’ll start and then she of course can’t -“ he shut his eyes, breathing deeply. 

He wasn’t budging about this, or even willing to compromise with me - and his telltale signs of a panic attack started to show, quick breathing, flushed skin, scrunched brows, literally shutting himself off by squeezing his eyes shut.

“Baby” I said softly, stepping forward and wrapping my arms around his middle. “We’ll go. We’ll go.” I assured him, gently running my finger over the bulging vein in his neck with a featherlight touch. “You’re so stressed love, breathe” I rub my palm gently over his racing heart. 

“This is why. I can’t even fuckin think about it Winnie, I can’t” he wrapped his arm around my waist and took another drag of his cigarette. 

I had to break this thought loop he was stuck in right now. I could see the gears turning in his mind, each and every worst-case scenario playing out in great detail like a film reel. It was something that my therapist had taught me during sessions and I had eventually picked up on, and started doing it with Carm. She would ask me a random question about something I love, so Taylor Swift, or Music Festivals, or Cats, and get me really into talking about it - and all the negative thoughts just snap away.

“How many kinds of vinegar are there?” I ask and he raised his eyebrow in confusion. 

“Vinegar?” He asked and I nod. 

“All  kinds. Well- I’ll be fair I guess cooking kinds, are there other kinds?” I gently fixed his chain to face the front. 

“Anything that is a fruit vegetable or a grain can be a vinegar, honey- why are you asking me this?” He questions and I shrug. 

“Because I wanna know. So ew you can make onion vinegar?” I scrunch my nose. 

“Uh-“ he took a drag of his cigarette “yes babe but…who the fuck would want that?” He asked, a small hint of a smile on his lips, my trick working as it usually did.

“What about balsamic vinegar, what is that?” I asked, sticking my hand under his shirt and holding his hip, stroking little lines into his skin with the pad of my thumb. 

“It’s grape juice vinegar instead of wine vinegar to put it simple” he said and I nod 

“You’re smart” I said, gently kissing his jaw “so so smart. It’s sexy” I said and he gently squeezed my bum

“What’s all the interest about vinegar babe you writin’ a book?” He teased and I giggle into his skin

“You’re not stuck in a loop anymore that’s what” I kissed down his neck. “And I was thinking about it in church. I was like what is red wine vinegar. Oh yeah and what is it?” I asked and he chuckled. 

“Mmm so full of questions sweetheart. They take red wine, then they ferment it, and then they add a culture-“ 

“A culture like yogurt?” I asked and he hummed 

“A culture like yogurt, that’s right little Sous someone’s been listening when I go on about work stuff huh?” He said, patting me gently. 

I smiled proudly “I love listening t’you. Okay keep going smarty sorry for interrupting” I said and he threw his cigarette butt down into the ash tray on the rail before wrapping his other arm around me and leaning against the wall. 

“Well not much else princess, they just ferment it and then add the culture then they put it in a barrel to ferment” he explained and the door opened 

“Bear Richie needs your help he’s fucking everything up with the lamb can you please come in?” Natalie asked 

“I literally sent him a text of what to do step by step” he huffs, “You wanna do the lemon zest honey?” He asked me as we went inside 

“Sure, I’ve been told I’m you’re best zester” I teased and he chuckled as he rolled up his sleeves to wash his hands 

“You are my best zester and my best girl.” He kisses my temple when I come next to him at the sink to wash my hands.

𝒞𝒶𝓇𝓂'𝓈 𝒫.𝒪.𝒱.🧸

After I’d dressed the lamb and put it in the oven, I went and sat on the couch with Sadie and Winnie who were deep in conversation about something I couldn’t even pay attention to at the moment. Because Nat had pulled me aside about 25 minutes ago to tell me mom is coming, but only for dessert- and only because she’s ’on the mend again.’ Whatever the fuck that’s supposed to mean. 

She’d been ‘on the mend’ and uncountable amount of times since Natalie's kids had been born. Each time was unpredictable to say the least. I had completely given up on her ever becoming fully ‘healthy’ whatever that means, a long time ago. But if she would at the very least be honest and not have to make a huge scene of being removed when she shows up drunk after she swore she would be ‘sober as a nun’ that would be at the very least more respectable. 

Natalie had begged me to stay. Said I was the ‘only one she’d talk to’ which felt like bullshit- because mom and I don’t talk. She talks and I listen - and I told her if she’s drunk we’re leaving. I have a bad feeling Winnie and Mom won’t take kindly to each other especially if moms drunk. Of course that wouldn’t be Winnies fault, but the point still stood strong. Also- Syd is here, and I don’t want Syd dealing with that. So if mom does show up - which I really hoped she wouldn’t and was just trying to give Natalie some false hope she still cared about the family at all since Mike did what he did - I’m taking Winnie and Syd and getting the fuck out of here.. 

I’m pulled out of my thoughts by Winnie laughing loudly “Sadie you are gonna piss him off stop” she rubs my arm 

“I think it’s precious baby don’t listen to them” she said and I look up at Sadie who’s showing Syd a video on her phone and she gasps before slapping her arm and laughing 

“Sadie stop!!” She laughs “A) he doesn’t carry a bag B) he doesn’t have a mustache- but everything else is accurate in that” she took a sip from her wine glass

“What? Are you making fun of me?” I asked and Winnie laughed a bit, a frisky grin on her face

“What!? Never baby it’s just a silly joke how we’re like..a common match I guess. It’s only a joke” she explained and I extended my hand 

“Let me see” I told Sadie and she shook her head

“You weren’t paying attention so no” she teased and I roll my eyes

“Children” but I couldn’t help but smile a bit. That was something I did around Winnie a lot. Richie was right, she is very funny, in strange ways but she is. It’s more of a childlike randomness then anything else but it tends to really draw people in. It drew me in. I still hadn’t had a chance to ruminate over what happened earlier. 

I do love her. I just feel scared that I said it, that now I did there really is another shoe waiting to drop. It almost felt like another secret, because if it’s not i’m gonna be drilled with questions. Questions that I likely don’t have the answer to and won't until I talk it out with my therapist like every other fucking thing in my life. It was starting to revolve around that woman. Or thats what it felt like. I’d been seeing an individual therapist for only 2 months out of the three we’d been dating. I’d started after breaking down in Nat’s car at 3 am that one time. She’d told me she was either dragging me there, or she ‘couldn’t be around me anymore’ because it hurt her too much to see me ‘spiraling out like Michael without the drugs’ .

I’d thought she was being dramatic, sure the only reason I broke down like that was Winnie, and I refused to stop seeing her so that would no longer happen - but I also couldn’t stand not seeing and talking to Nat so often, I forgot how much i’d missed her in New York and her …. nagging. Strangely enough. 

“Bear-” I felt a grab on my shoulder and see Nat standing there “Let’s go outside yeah?” she said and I nodded a bit, looking over at Winnie 

“Be back in a second yeah?” I kiss her head and she nods turning back to Sadie listening to whatever story she was telling her

I shut the door behind us digging a cigarette out and lighting it. “You’re quiet tonight” she leaned against the rail and watched me. 

“A lot going on in case you haven’t realized” I muttered, taking a drag and looking down the street to avert her gaze. I wasn’t gonna go into everything right now, not here - and not when mom is gonna be here who knows when because she’s said that she was coming to dessert before and then came hours before expected because she thought Nat had told her 6 when she’d really told nat 8.

“Is it…Winnie?” she asked, and I suddenly felt annoyed at the thought that anyone could ever think she did something to me to intentionally make me feel this way

“No- no. Why would it be? Its fuckin mom. Winnie was all fuckin excited to come here and be here with all of you- because i’ve told you I don’t want her around mom- so since I was told she 100% was not coming I decided - oh how fuckin nice- she talks about never havin’ a fuckin family to do shit with, and never having been to a fuckin dinner like this- and now day fuckin’ of you drop on me she’d be here. If I’d have known, I’d never have come here. I’d never have told her. Because she loves to be apart and she - she wants me to feel good about shit like this but I can’t when mom’s involved. And now - it’s gonna be a whole fucking thing t’night when we get home. And its not her fault she sees when im upset, and its not her fault she can be normal when talking about shit like this. And its not her fault were all so fucked up. So it's not Winnie- Its us. Its who we are as a fucking family unit. So thats what it is, Nat” I said and finally looked over at her. 

She sighed deeply, nodding a bit. “Shes smart, Bear. And strong as any one of us, i’ve talked to her, you know? More then just once. She’s got a good head on her shoulders, and you’re a good person, Carm. She’s not pestering you, she’s worried about you. But we all know how you love worrying about your own shit so much that you can’t see the people around wanting to help.” she said.

“Thats why I don’t want her around mom. Because I know she wont be able to stand her, Nat. She’s….she doesn’t let peoples shit slide. And I’m worried because I can’t control her- I- I wont. It’s one of her…rules” I sighed a bit.

“She gives you….rules?” she asked.

“Not like that- just like- ‘do this and I’ll leave you without question this is your warning’ and one of ‘em is If I ever seriously try to control how she acts around anyone were done. Which I can understand shes a girl and all that” I stomp out the burning butt under my shoe.

“See- shes smart. And It will be fine as long as Mom comes sober and stays that way. She wont start anything with anyone as long as she is. Can you just please, please do me a favor and try to keep her away from the liquor, Carm? We’re putting it away before she gets here but… She can’t be around the kids if she drinks and Bee’s been fussy and I can't let Charlie see her if she gets drunk without anyone looking. I can’t keep an eye on her, but you can! Please Carm, please” she begged.

“No- No. Fuck no, actually. Fuck that- and fuck this, Natalie. No, I’m not leaving my fucking girlfriend alone tonight, so I can chase mom around the house to make sure that she doesn’t drink. I’ve told you. I don’t want to be a part anymore of her fuckin’ bullshit! What are- are you even getting out of this, Natalie? She’s not a grandmother, she’s an extra child you bring around presenting as a fuckin’ grandmother because you want y’r fuckin’ kids to have what we didn’t even have. Newsflash, Nat- To know how to be a fuckin’ grandmother? You need to have been a mother- something she’s never been good at. I’m glad you took me out here because the last thing I needed was mom showing up - and me being expected to play fuckin’ alcoholic sitter all night. Enjoy your shit show with mom”

 I turned around, opening the front door and having every urge to slam it, but holding back and shutting it calmly. I leaned against it, taking a few deep breaths and rubbing over my face. If I go in theliving room steaming, Winnie’s gonna cause a whole fucking scene trying to calm me down, well- not a scene - but she’d notice how upset I was off the bat, and then i’d make a scene trying to convince her I was fine when that was the furthest from the truth and spiral out of control when she didn’t believe me.

This was not how this night was gonna go. Not if I could do anything to help it. If Winnie wanted to do a big fucking family dinner at Nat’s or Richies, or something. Hell, I’d buy a fucking house and throw a dinner party there with everyone if it meant I kept her from being apart of this god damned dumpster fire of a situation. 

“Honey” I called from the hall, trying to keep my voice even and digging my keys out of my pocket.

“Comin’!” she called from the living room, a few seconds later showing up at the end of the hall and padding over to me with her glass of wine and her regular smiley warm demenor.

“Hey baby” I tried my best to put on a small smile, “Uh- I’m sorry…I’m not feelin’ good my stomach is feelin’ pretty fucked and I have bad heartburn, we’ll come back for the next one, yeah?” I told her, wrapping my hands around her hips and pulling her closer. 

“Oh no! Sweetheart, you have barely eaten today mm? That may be why your tummy is buggin’ you. Lets get you something small before dinner and you can lay down and see if it passes? If not we can go, The lamb you made is smelling so good baby I wanted to try it, I’ve never had that before” She asked sweetly, gently rubbing my chest. 

Damn her always having solutions. 

“No- honey… please- please? I just wanna go home and lay down and watch our shows, I can’t even hold anything down right now- can we?” I asked gently, leaning against the wall. 

Before she could even answer, my entire world spin and flew off of its axis. I wanted the ground to swallow Winnie and I up and send us somewhere that was anywhere but here. The entire house silenced, other then the near bane of my existence but also the unfortunate giver of life I was currently living out.  “No! NO! If my SON doesn’t want to see me, He will TELL ME WHY Natalie! He can EXPLAIN HIMSELF! I am not a child! I can HANDLE MY OWN SON YOU MY FUCKED UP LITTLE WANNABE AS MUCH AS YOU TRY TO REPLACE ME - ARE NOT HIS MOTHER!”

➵ 𝐍𝐞𝐱𝐭 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 ♡♡♡

[wovenstarlight]

I got an interesting anonymous ask on the SFS Tumblr asking about the reasoning behind a bunch of Yoohyun's decisions that had… less-than-stellar outcomes, let's say? (LMAO.) and I'd like to keep the TL blog clean so I'm answering Anon here. I'm gonna post their ask in full for reference, because the answers to each individual question overlap:

Hi, thank you very much for your time, energy and effort. What you are doing is really amazing and admirable. I know you are busy enough and I shouldn't trouble you, but after reading the manhwa, I had questions about Yoohyun's logic and sentiment, and I became more confused after reading the novel and I don't know who to ask. Please ignore my message if it's to much trouble. 1: Why doesn't Yoohyun spend the last years of his life on earth peacefully with Yoojin, even though he knows that the world will end soon? 2: What did Yoohyun accomplish by leaving and humiliating Yoojin that he was persistent to do it for so many years? 3: Why instead of using his forces and technologies to protect Yoojin, he announces to the world that it is open season on him and he is worthless? (Normaly no one dares to harm the family of an S class but Yoohyun expose Yoojin to danger by abandoning him.) 4: Why does Yoohyun stop protecting Yoojin when the most dangerous part of Yoojin's life as an F class hunter begins? (Using his influence he could easily ban Yoojin from entering dungeons. Or he could have secretly formed a group of the most powerful hunters to go with Yoojin to dungeons. This way he could have provided him with everything he needed and keep him safe. That is, if he had any intention of protecting him.) 5: Why would Yoohyun gain all that resources, power, wealth and connections and he sit around and does nothing so that Yoojin would face death every day and rot in the basement? He gain all that for what, if not for protecting Yoojin? 6: Why doesn't he ever change his procedure or provide new options for Yoojin to stop going to dungeons? (Yoojin has no chance for a peaceful life due to not having a degree and being a notorious person. And he doesn't know about that cult.) Yoojin got to see his 30 years old birthday cause the cult didn't feel like killing him and he took care of himself in dungeons and was lucky that only his legs broke. So why would Yoohyun identify as a doting brother? The more I think about it the less I understand.

(crossposted on AO3, if you'd prefer to read there)

Okay, so, I'm really prone to rambling at length and this is a subject I have strong feelings on, so I'll give you a very short version of my answer in bullet points, and then a longer version with proper chapter-specific references and full explanations of what I think was going on.

Yoohyun wants to repay Yoojin for all the care and love he's given him, but as a 17-year-old, he doesn't have much social power

Yoohyun's Awakening puts himself and anyone he loves (i.e. Yoojin) in a dangerous position, because while he has individual physical power as an S-rank, he still lacks social power and also can't singlehandedly protect Yoojin 24/7

Yoohyun, in all his rash 17-year-old glory, takes the drastic action of cutting off Yoojin, planning to build up enough power to protect Yoojin and then reunite with him. Yoojin, as just your ordinary everyday 22-year-old, faces no risks other than people targeting him in order to hurt Yoohyun (I don't agree that no one would dare to harm the family of an S-rank, for reasons I'll elaborate on later in the long answer), so if Yoohyun's not close to Yoojin, then that cuts it down to "no risks at all", right…? So tell the media, tell the world, that no, Han Yoohyun doesn't give a shit about Han Yoojin. Yoohyun assumes he'll be able to explain it all to Yoojin one day and that he'll understand. (This should answer your Question 2 and Q3.)

But it doesn't work out as expected. Yoohyun thought it'd take much less time to establish his position than it does in reality (the assumed 4-ish years ended up as 6+ years). Also, Yoojin's gone from trying to make up with Yoohyun in a way that'll let them be together again (not going to happen, because Yoohyun's still not ready to bring Yoojin back into the fold) to being in his own terrible situation, so he's started lashing out at Yoohyun. So even if Yoohyun was in a stable enough situation to try reconciling with him, Yoojin might not be open to it by this point

Somewhere along the way, Yoohyun learns from the filial duty addict Diarma the world is going to end. He doesn't drop everything and go to live with Yoojin because even now, there's still the concern that maybe Yoohyun won't be able to protect Yoojin from everything, and maybe Yoojin doesn't want Yoohyun around, anyway. There's no use in going to live with Yoojin if it'll just end up getting Yoojin killed through Yoohyun's inaction (Q1).

So Yoohyun keeps maintaining his guild and his power so he can keep protecting Yoojin from what he thinks are the Real Threats. (Because the worlds of low- and high-rank Hunters are VERY different. Yoohyun probably assumes that because Yoojin's not facing the high-rank Hunter dangers, he's facing no dangers—a stupid but understandable mistake, given that Yoojin also assumed the exact same thing in reverse about Yoohyun! It sucks, it really does, but I really do think Yoohyun just… didn't realize just how bad it was.) (Q5) And the world can end whenever it wants; if there's no challenging it, then at least Yoohyun's kept Yoojin safe in the meantime.

And the one danger they have in common, dungeons—you suggest Yoohyun banning Yoojin from entering any, but Yoohyun's cut himself off from Yoojin entirely, remember. Trying to interfere in his life would be met with (a) STRONG rejection by a deeply hurt Yoojin who doesn't understand why Yoohyun thinks he has any say in Yoojin's life anymore, and (b) interest by Yoohyun's rivals, who'd wonder why he's trying to keep his hyung away from dangers when he says he doesn't care about that hyung's wellbeing, putting Yoojin right back in their crosshairs. (Q4)

Also, the immoral people have been killing Caregivers of S-ranks. Diarma might have told Yoohyun about this. If he did, then Yoohyun's goals would definitely have gone from "stay strong and one day reconcile with hyung" to "NEVER get close to hyung, because there are beings outside this world, much more powerful than anything I can match in a reasonable timespan, who will 100% kill him". At which point, even if Yoohyun had wanted to reconcile with him, or compromise by just adjusting his plan and talking to Yoojin a little more, or literally anything past making a show of total and complete indifference, he couldn't have without knowingly risking Yoojin's life. (Q6)

You and I and all the other S-Ranks readers, removed from this situation as we are, can think of half a dozen ways Yoohyun could probably have gotten around things. But the simple fact is that in that situation, under that much pressure, with that much emotional attachment to his brother and literally everything that mattered to him at stake if he fucked up in the tiniest of ways—forget making perfect decisions, there was absolutely no way Yoohyun was going to do anything other than what seemed least risky. Because to do otherwise would be risking Yoojin’s life and therefore his own. And the choices you’ve already mades, the path you’re already on—no matter how bad it is for you, no matter how bad it is for the people you love, no matter how much it hurts—will always, always be less risky than the unknown path, because at least this way, you know what dangers to expect and brace for. At the core of the matter, it’s just that… the path that was best for Yoojin's happiness wasn't the path that was best for Yoojin's life expectancy, you see? And Yoojin can't be happy if he's dead. Yoohyun can't be alive if Yoojin's dead. That's all it came down to.

……oh my god that was so long actually. And that was supposed to be the TL;DR. The long version is going to be SO long. I hope you like reading 50-page passionate essays. There's a poll at the end, you can look forward to that!!!

(Also, okay, before we jump into the Deep End. Two disclaimers.

Anon, you said you read the manhwa and novel, but I read only the novel, so some of my chapter references might be unfamiliar. I know they shuffled events around a little in the webtoon, too, so I'll try and describe the general events so you can find any webtoon parallels.

Yoojin's a REALLY unreliable narrator and definitely doesn't know a lot of what Yoohyun's gone through. Part of that is because there's things he has no way to pick up on or deduce; part of that is because he wants to not think about Yoohyun going through bad shit; part of that is because Yoohyun doesn't want Yoojin worrying about him and has actively hidden the worse parts of his life from him. So a fair part of what I'm talking about is going to be reading between the lines and extrapolating.

Okay, disclaimers done!) Now on to the long version with references. Let's go point-by-point based on the TL;DR.

#1: Yoohyun wanting to repay Yoojin

I mean, the skill's called Last/Final Repayment! Isn't that enough? Where did you think that came from? There certainly wasn't anything Yoojin wanted to repay Yoohyun for.

Okay, no, more seriously. Yoohyun and Yoojin have grown up with only each other to depend on. Yoohyun has watched Yoojin take care of him alone their whole lives, with no outside support, keeping a roof over their head and their stomachs filled. For Yoohyun's sake, Yoojin has given up:

A complete education, with Yoojin having "dropped out of school to take care of his little brother", as mentioned in chapter 1.

A proper social life. In chapter 25, Yoojin says his friends in his early 20s were "middle-aged factory workers" instead of people his own age.

Hobbies. He says to Yerim and Myeongwoo in chapter 45 that one of his "few hobbies" is taking spam calls, but his character profile from the E-books volume 1 confirms it's his only hobby, and one that's now fading… which leaves him with zero personal interests. (The spam calling thing is almost certainly something that sprouted from loneliness in the years that the brothers were separated, by the way. After all, why would Yoojin waste time listening to some stranger on the phone talk to him about something he doesn’t care about? Most likely because there isn’t—wasn’t—really anyone else who’s willing to talk to him, anymore.)

The sole birthday present of "a 10,000 won bill to buy something tasty to have with his friends" he got from their parents, which "would be used for Han Yoohyun’s birthday. As [it was] every year", as mentioned in chapter 239, during Yoohyun’s flashback to childhood.

And Yoohyun, a helpless child, could only watch as Yoojin gave up all of that, to no real benefit of his own, just to focus all his attention and resources on supporting Yoohyun.

By the time he was in middle school, Yoohyun was already talking about becoming a doctor since it'd be "advantageous in a lot of aspects"; he says he "just wanted to make it so you [Yoojin] could live comfortably" (chapter 258). Yoojin wouldn't have to be the sole earner, and would've been able to pursue his own happiness as well as Yoohyun's. Yoohyun wants very badly for Yoojin to not have to worry about him anymore. It makes sense that that sentiment would remain even after he Awakened.

#2: Yoohyun's Awakening

And boy what an Awakening it was! Straight from a random orphaned kid with zero social life and decent grades to one of the world's most desirable and dangerous individuals, basically overnight. He has none of the social sway that the rich and well-connected Sung Hyunjae or the professional athletes Moon Hyuna and Choi Sukwon do, and he refuses to get the help of big corporations like Choi Sukwon and Bak Mingyu (and Yoon Kyeongsoo? I forget if Soodam was also a corp-backed guild). So he's got no power, but he's also declared his intent to create a guild, and that combined with his nature as a born S-rank makes people perceive him as a threat. Maybe not so much in the early days, when people think he's just an arrogant, stupid kid who's going to crash and burn, but definitely more so as time passed, which Sung Hyunjae confirms in chapter 152:

“Wasn’t [Han Yoohyun] at the age where one faces a lot of problems, starting out living alone?” […] “He wasn’t even alone, strictly speaking. I heard Team Head Seok and the others joined Haeyeon early on.” I heard that Seok Simyeong had visited Yoohyun-ie even before Haeyeon was founded. He was still annoying, but I had to give him his share of the credit for Haeyeon. Sung Hyunjae gave a small nod at my words. “Even so, it isn’t easy for a latecomer to find his place.” “That’s… You’re right.” “For the first year or so, it was easier. Since most of them said Haeyeon wouldn’t be able to properly establish itself.” Sung Hyunjae also said he hadn’t been interested in Haeyeon—in Yoohyun-ie—at the time, either. “The problem arose when it started to become a major guild.”

The second the initial "LOL, this has got to be a joke, right?" blinders come off, he's at risk. And he would've known that this would happen right from the start—Yoohyun's smart enough that he would've understood the lack of attacks was just because they didn't see him as a real threat yet.

So, again: a latecomer on the scene with no power and no experience to his name, and seen as a threat to deal with. No social connections means he has no one to rely on to help him with Yoojin's protection: it's up to him alone. And even S-ranks have to eat and sleep and use the bathroom and do half a dozen other things that would pull him away from Yoojin's side, not to mention the all-important requirement of raiding dungeons, which Yoohyun himself admits in chapter 71 was one of his main concerns:

“Once I start a raid on an S-rank dungeon, I’ll be gone for a week […]. Me… avoiding you… was also largely due to the S-rank dungeon raid time. Since, obviously, I can’t look after you once I go into the dungeon.”

So Yoohyun himself can't just stay by Yoojin's side as his bodyguard 24/7. He'd have to leave him unattended for, at minimum, whole weeks. Which means he doesn't have a reliable, sure way to keep his hyung safe.

#3: Cutting off Yoojin, and the risks to an S-rank's family

And that's not even mentioning his own safety. What happens when Yoohyun's hurt and can't help with guarding Yoojin? And he will be hurt, either by dungeon raids or other people. If you don't think that second one is a concern, as early as chapter 6, when Yoojin and Yoohyun are having their first meal together, Yoojin asks about Yoohyun's ability to cook, and he says he taught himself:

“I’ve got items for detoxification and de-cursing, now, but I didn’t have them before. So making my own food felt safer. Even now, when I enter dungeons, I bring dried rations I made myself. Since it’s most dangerous inside dungeons.” “…Detoxification? De-cursing?” What was I hearing right now? As in, there were bastards who’d poison and curse his food, so he had to make it himself… that sort of thing?

Yoohyun himself, a strong, healthy S-rank with a good constitution and one hell of a temper, was at risk of being poisoned and cursed through something as everyday as food. You said that normally, no one would dare attack the family of an S-rank—but if people are willing to attack the S-rank himself, knowing that he'll kill them for sure if it fails and he learns they're behind it, then what's stopping them from attacking the S-rank's family?

There's two points you could argue:

Yoohyun says in the chapter 6 conversation that "It’s a major crime for an Awakened person to target an Unawakened person, so I made them think it wasn’t worth it to risk going after you." But that'd only last for the 3 years up until Yoojin Awakened, and honestly, there's a real risk that anyone targeting Yoojin before that time would just be rich or socially connected enough that they could make the charges go away.

The other argument that if they attack an S-rank's beloved family and that fails, now the S-rank is coming after them with a vengeance, and he's not even suffering from the aftermath of poisoning or a curse to weaken him in the slightest, so that might scare them off. But, like… people do stupid things when they're desperate. In that kidnapping where Yoojin met the Krecke Blackie (chapters 46–49), sure, Yoojin had his own special skills that made him valuable, but he also had five major guilds and the Association all dedicated to his protection. That's several times the protection a single S-rank could offer, and some idiots who weren't even in a desperate situation still tried to go after him for benefits similar to what you'd get from having leverage over an S-rank. So I really don't think anything would stop people from threatening Yoojin. If anything, the combined facts of Yoohyun starting out from a weak position, Yoohyun obviously caring about Yoojin, and Yoojin being so much weaker than Yoohyun would make that the best option by far, if you wanted to hurt Yoohyun. After all, it’s not like Unawakened F-rank Yoojin can fight back himself, and again, Yoohyun isn’t going to fight you if it would risk Yoojin’s life.

So, Yoohyun goes "if I distance myself from hyung and make people think it WON'T hurt me for him to be hurt, then people have no reason to target him!" and follows through. I do think this was a stupid move on his part, even if he intended to explain it all to Yoojin eventually, because by not letting him in on the secret right from the start, he guaranteed that Yoojin would be hurt and upset by his sole remaining family member seemingly abandoning him for better prospects. Which leads Yoojin to start making his own stupid moves, which snowballs into a series of bad decisions on both their parts, and so on… but we'll get to that in a minute. The problem, I think, is that this plan could've worked, if only Yoohyun had told Yoojin at the start, so that Yoojin knew not to draw attention to himself. Maybe they could've done regular calls on burner phones or something, to stay in touch, and they'd have been happier that way.

Unfortunately that didn't happen. Why? Because, as Yoohyun states in that same conversation in chapter 6, he "didn’t want to burden" Yoojin. Yoohyun's desire to protect Yoojin is not just physical, but also mental/emotional—he doesn't want Yoojin to know that Yoohyun's going through all this trouble of leaving home and dealing with threats to his life and making big decisions, because he doesn't want Yoojin to worry.

[EDIT: And actually, thinking back over this, do you realize—Yoojin always talks about how Yoohyun was a delight of a child to raise, never complaining, never throwing tantrums, wonderfully behaved and always doing as he was told. Enough so that Moon Hyuna has to tell him, explicitly, in Chapter 43, that that’s not normal, in those exact words:

“He was a good younger brother who never needed to be scolded. Ever since he was little, he listened well and didn’t worry me…….” “You said you were the one to raise him, right? After you lost your parents early. That’s not normal.” She clicked her tongue and continued. “A good, obedient little brother from a poor family without parents. That sort of thing doesn’t even appear in children’s fairy tales these days. Because it’s not realistic.” “I mean, to go that far—” “Kids are kids. They get frustrated and angry if there’s something lacking, they make trouble to get attention, they compare themselves with others, and beyond begging their parents to buy them something they want, they might even resent them. Parents might still think their kids are cute, but brothers? To them, they’re just enemy bastards; I also have a younger sibling, so I know. Of course, there are brothers and sisters who get along. In peaceful households where their parents take good care of them. Even then, it’s not like they never fight. Younger brothers in particular are a type that need to be put in their place; older siblings the world across would probably agree.”

This suggests that Yoohyun and Yoojin have never, ever, EVER experienced conflict on major life decisions. Not once have they argued about Yoohyun making choices that Yoojin wouldn’t like. Which means Yoohyun approached cutting off Yoojin with a very particular mindset, and I have some guesses as to what exactly that mindset was. Do you think he hoped Yoojin would understand that his perennially well-behaved brother would have some reason for leaving home? Do you think he just… didn’t know how to approach telling Yoojin about his choice, knowing it’d upset him so much, so he simply didn’t and hoped for the best? Or was it something else entirely?

Either way: Yoohyun absolutely did not know what would come of this choice. He definitely did not expect just how hard it would be on Yoojin. At the time, he was probably just wanting to spare Yoojin the heartache of their first major argument about Yoohyun’s life choices.] And it's that very desire to not bother him with the knowledge of how much Yoohyun's suffering that eventually makes things go wrong and both of them suffer for it.

#4: Yoohyun's strategy failing

What do we know about Yoohyun's plan going wrong? We know that Yoohyun intended to wipe out his enemies before even thinking about allowing Yoojin into danger. In that conversation in chapter 6, he tells Yoojin to wait "just 1 year" and to basically live in confinement, locked up safe inside Haeyeon, until Yoohyun's done. Combined with the 3 years since the dungeons appearing and Yoohyun Awakening, that means he thought it'd take maybe 4 years in total, with hurrying at the end to accommodate Yoojin already being involved with him again. Yoojin says in narration that pre-regression, it took him 3 years instead of the 1 he's proposing, which puts us at a total of 6 years minimum before Yoohyun could even think about reuniting with Yoojin.

But, of course, a lot can and did happen in those 6 years. Within the first 3, the brothers' relationship had deteriorated enough that Yoojin blocked Yoohyun's number, as mentioned in chapter 32 by Yoohyun to Yoojin during novice Hunter training:

“You got angry and told me not to call, remember? You even blocked my number.”

Why was Yoojin angry? See chapter 158, when Yoohyun was temporarily amnesiac due to Jellyfish's fog:

“I’m certain I told you not to come near me.” …I remembered. When I’d heard that, I’d blocked Yoohyun’s number, telling him not to call me back.

Yoohyun's repeated refusal to tell Yoojin about his plans, just telling him they had to stay apart, only worsened their relationship. And while Yoohyun did attempt to reach out and help Yoojin in ways such as sending him money to cover living expenses (probably hoping to repair their rapidly deteriorating relationship), that also made it worse, with Yoojin rejecting all of those attempts. As he explains in chapter 274, during the flashbacks induced by Jellyfish in their fight:

Gritting my teeth, I sent back the money Yoohyun-ie sent me without even laying a finger on it. To the me of that time, it was horrible money that my young brother had as good as traded his life for. Yoohyun-ie wanted me to accept living expenses and stay safe, but I believed my brother was being sent to his own death and could never accept it.

It isn't like Yoohyun didn't try to reach out. He did. The problem was that all of his attempts were undercut by his continued refusal to tell Yoojin why he had distanced himself, such that all those attempts at staying in touch only rubbed salt in the wound of being abandoned. And as early as 3 years in, by his own admission in chapter 6, Yoohyun starts to think that things have gotten so bad that even if he tries to confess everything now, Yoojin might not "be understanding". He might not be willing to let go of his hurt and resentment to reconcile with him.

So should he stop reaching out, then? Surely there's still hope that they can reconcile in the future. Someday, maybe, when Yoohyun's sure he can protect Yoojin, even if Yoojin doesn't want to be with/near him.

#5: Learning about the world ending

Only, there's a deadline imposed by the end of the world, which Yoohyun learns about from filial duty addict Diarma. Part of the contract with the filial duty addicts, as Sung Hyunjae explains in chapter 102, is not interfering with said end of the world. Actually, the contractors have to give "their word that they’ll eliminate obstacles" i.e. other people fighting against the end of the world, so Yoohyun can't do anything about this deadline. This gives him a limited amount of time in which he can "eventually" reconcile with Yoojin.

So, as you ask, Anon, why not spend that limited time with his brother? Well, just because there's an end of the world approaching—which Yoohyun can't even talk about! L-rank contract, remember—doesn't mean that Yoojin is 🌟magically🌟 going to get any less mad about Yoohyun abandoning him for several years than before. Yoohyun still doesn't want to explain, so that argument is absolutely not getting resolved.

Even if he tries to explain vaguely that there's some threat and that he'd like Yoojin to live with him or at least accept his offers of protection and security, what happens if Yoojin refuses? Yoohyun clearly isn't willing to violate Yoojin's desires too far, since the most certain way to keep him safe would be to lock him up in a vault somewhere inside Haeyeon and never let anyone else see him, but that would trample all over his free will and happiness, not to mention it'd ruin Yoohyun's "live normally and happily with hyung" goals. So he'll have to let Yoojin stay out in the world, while all of Yoohyun's rivals and enemies are still out there, watching the Haeyeon Guild Leader reach out to his brother and wondering if they've reconciled. At that point, it doesn't matter if they actually have made up or not. If someone even suspects that Yoojin is close to Yoohyun, then they'll target him on the off-chance that it's true. And if Yoojin did refuse Yoohyun's offers, which he's almost certain to, then he's defenseless against whatever attacks come. And they will come. In chapter 6, Yoohyun admitted that a single visit to Haeyeon Guild by Yoojin, willing or unwilling, would be enough to get attention on him:

“But if I directly give orders for you to be brought in and allowed to live within Haeyeon Guild, my enemies will start to actively target you. Even with you just being here right now, I’m sure they’ll already have started keeping an eye on you.”

Think of it from Yoohyun's enemies' perspective. If Yoohyun cares about Yoojin, attacking Yoojin gives you leverage over Yoohyun. If Yoohyun doesn't care about Yoojin, then he won't care if you're attacking Yoojin, so you'll face no retaliation from him. Yoohyun's enemies have nothing to lose from this, while Yoohyun has everything to lose. So, in this situation, it'd be better to take the least risky path: just don't engage with Yoojin at all.

And, also, even if he'd decided to take that risk, there's a different one when it comes to actually figuring out a system to guard Yoojin. This point is more speculation, but I do think Yoohyun might have struggled with deciding when he'd done enough for Yoojin's protection. Because the reality is that Yoojin was never, ever going to be 100% safe from all dangers ever. Again, the vault method is the only way Yoohyun could achieve that. Yoohyun could've put together any amount of high-rank Hunters as Yoojin's exclusive security detail, and he'd still have to leave him alone with these potentially corruptible strangers for a full week at a time during every S-rank dungeon raid. I suspect there was a real risk of Yoohyun continuously going "I just need to get a bit stronger and a bit more established" indefinitely, without ever reaching a point where he was actually satisfied. (Which, if this was indeed a risk in canon, would be overridden in the post-regression timeline by Yoojin's keyword usage making Yoohyun's desire to live with him again and uncertainty about Yoojin's response win out over the urge to keep obsessing over safeguards.)

#6: What counts as a "real" threat

When it comes to Yoohyun's need to defend Yoojin against threats, there's also an important aspect you need to consider, which is: what threats? You see, the worlds of low-rank and high-rank Hunters are very different, to the point where Yoohyun seems to completely overlook some aspects of what Yoojin's used to dealing with, while Yoojin explicitly notes on multiple occasions that he didn't even realize Yoohyun faced certain dangers. As always, we come back to the poisoning attempts mentioned in chapter 6, the first time Yoojin realizes Yoohyun was suffering his own ordeals. This sort of sneaky threat gets reiterated in chapter 11, after Yoojin's trip to the Hunter Mall, when Yoohyun tells him he can't even take a simple drink from any public vendor because it might be poisoned (not something that'd work on Yoohyun himself, but it certainly would on those lower-ranked people around him who he cares about). No, not even in a government-sponsored location like the Association, because even these locations are filled with other guilds' spies and informants. Yoojin's internal response is essentially "what sort of underhanded bullshit is this", and out loud he questions Yoohyun about it:

“But would they do that sort of thing in none other than the Association? If they get caught, the backlash will be huge.” And if Awakened people couldn’t trust the Association, it’d end up hurting the guilds, too. “Of course they wouldn’t make trouble inside the Association. But it’s possible to have their target sent away in an ambulance or police car.” “…And then that ambulance or police car goes missing?” “You’re getting it.”

And Yoojin literally thinks, not a paragraph later, that this is maybe too much even for him:

Somehow, the further things went, the more I felt like I should stop being involved with this brat Yoohyun-ie and go off to live on my own.

Better the dangers you know than the ones you don't, but in Yoojin's words.

Everyone in the high-rank sphere is, well, high-rank. Strong and resilient even when they don't have defensive skills, to say nothing of when they do. They face threats, yes, Real Threats that pose danger to them and risk their safety and status, including threats from other people—Song Taewon mentions to Yoojin in chapter 83 that he's investigated Yoohyun for murder multiple times a year—but because they're so strong, those threats come in the form of dungeon monsters or social attacks, not actual physical harm. Especially not physical harm from other people; like, chapter 75 mentions there's laws against S-rank Hunters going into dungeons together for fear that they might hurt or kill each other, so unless they encounter each other in a dungeon break region where combat is expected (or pick fights with Chief Song, an S-rank duty-bound to fight other S-ranks), they're never really going to encounter personal threats from other Hunters.

Take all that through the lens of protecting Yoojin: he's just some guy, he's not involved in the social/political Hunter Hunger Games, so he's probably fine on that front, right? And otherwise, Yoohyun just needs to protect him from dungeons (keep Yoojin out of them when possible, prevent breaks in his area), and maybe just some general watching out for Yoojin getting himself into anything risky, since he's so weak as an F-rank. That's all the threats Yoohyun sees on a daily basis, so that's probably it, right?

Wrong. Low-rank Hunters have their own set of threats they face, and while a part of that is dungeons and monsters, a very large part of that is also just… being easy to kill, in a community of people very ready to kill. Low-rank Hunters murder each other a hell of a lot more than high-rank Hunters get to even hurt, let alone kill, each other. Think about how easily the knowledge of dungeons being good body disposal spots comes to Yoojin (chapter 19, when threatening Yerim's uncle). Think about the way Yoojin talks about being pressured into slave contracts and miner guilds, and how common it seems to be for low-rank Hunters to be maimed and disabled and left in the lurch (chapters 21 and 22, saving Yoo Myeongwoo from Hope Resources Guild). Think about chapter 49, where Yoohyun claims there's strong camaraderie among high-rank Hunters, and Yoojin responds with this:

Comradeship, huh. There was no such concept in low-rank Hunter teams. Of course, it wasn’t like there were no good people around. The problem was that they all died before long. There were fixed low-rank teams united through trust and friendship, but it was very rare that they lasted. With how strongly they banded together, if one of them died, they couldn’t endure the shock and would fall apart; and even if that didn’t happen, if they were doing well for themselves, they’d be attacked from the outside by the many Hunters who’d find them unpleasant. But a high-rank dungeon raiding team that suffered few such accidents could form a sense of comradeship and keep staying together.

Low-rank Hunters will get killed by monsters, or survive only to get killed by the loss of their teams, or find good teams only to get killed by other jealous low-ranks, or (in Yoojin's experience) survive multiple team-wide killings only to get ostracized and distrusted for being suspiciously good at surviving (almost like you're the one setting up your teams to fail! really makes you wonder, doesn't it?), or, or, or…

High-rank Hunters just… survive. That's it.

Of course Yoohyun wouldn't know to protect Yoojin from these threats. He's never faced them. To him, fighting other people is a fun, challenging pastime, where no one being allowed to kill each other is an unspoken rule that goes implicitly understood. He wouldn't realize how it was very much not fun for Yoojin; maybe he'd know it intellectually, but I don't think he'd understand, not without getting up close and personal to see Yoojin struggle with it, which he can't do himself. If he tries to send someone to spy on or just generally help out his brother, Yoojin's primed by his experiences to distrust the people around him, so spies won't get anything out of him, and any strong Hunter handpicked by Yoohyun to help his hyung might simply be unable to gain Yoojin's trust. (Picking out a whole team of strong Hunters? Even if Yoojin trusts them, they'd probably end up victimized by jealous Hunters. Rinse and repeat.) You must also take into account that Yoojin's been made enough of a target by society that he's hiding every weakness someone could potentially exploit. Hell, if he's hiding well enough, you might think he's doing just fine.

And in the time period where it would be blatantly obvious that Yoojin was not fine, that early period right when he Awakened and turned into society's scapegoat overnight? That was when Yoohyun and Haeyeon were also being targeted, and wouldn't have been able to spare the kind of attention and help Yoojin would've needed, not with all the scrutiny they were all being subjected to. Actually, when Yoojin's reminiscing about these times in chapter 59, he hypothesizes it might've been Yoohyun's rivals themselves who were behind the scapegoating:

At that time, it would’ve been hard for that guy to look out for me. Public opinion wasn’t good in many ways, and there were too many scrutinizing eyes for him to secretly look after me. Now that I thought about it, I wondered if there wasn’t some sort of operation targeting me. The response was too excessive to have simply been the work of a few trash journalists. It was a matter that could be packaged excitingly, I was an F-rank which made me easy to use, and at that time, it could drag down Haeyeon Guild in the public opinion. Whether it was the government, the Association, or rival guilds, they’d have been fools not to use me.

If it was Yoohyun's rivals behind it, then by fighting on the Haeyeon front, Yoohyun might actually have been keeping Yoojin safe, too. How do we know he didn't actually mitigate the suffering to some degree? We haven't heard from Yoohyun about his side of things during this time, so we don't have a definite answer one way or another.

Certainly, Seok Simyeong didn't help at all by making a public statement denouncing Yoojin, especially not when it was so bad Yoojin admits to almost being suicidal over it (chapter 19)! But, well, it was a busy time. We don't know whether Yoohyun was consulted on that one, or if it was something they rushed in order to get ahead of the situation. It might also be that Yoohyun was consulted and made the choice that they'd publicly denounce Yoojin but privately offer him support, only for Yoojin to reject it as he did before with the money Yoohyun sent. Yoojin's done this before, where he conveniently doesn't mention a detail about a scenario until it becomes immediately relevant!

I cannot emphasize enough that we don't have Yoohyun's perspective on this. We don't know what he was doing or not doing to help. But we know, from his love for Yoojin, from his desperate desire to keep him safe at all costs, that he must've been doing something. Was that something effective? Was it useful to Yoojin's immediate life? Who knows. But he was trying.

#7: Banning Yoojin from dungeons

…Keyword being trying. Because, uh. To be honest, how well do you think any direct attempts at "helping" went over? The very first moment that Yoojin regresses to is when Yoohyun got him out of a meeting with an Awakening broker. And Yoojin himself says that ended so badly that "after listening to Yoohyun-ie’s nagging, I’d become furious and stormed off, shouting that I could take care of myself and to quit bothering me" (chapter 5). So if Yoohyun tries to openly keep Yoojin out of danger, then Yoojin is going to have a screaming fit of anger at his life being controlled by someone who apparently isn't even interested in being in it.

And that's before Yoojin Awakened. Once he had an actual, legal, government-assigned license saying he could go into dungeons? Yoohyun had zero standing. Zero chance he was ever going to be able to stop him from going into dungeons, short of breaking down and crying and begging for him to not do it, which (to successfully convince Yoojin he wasn't just putting on a show or trying to guilt trip him) would also require Yoohyun to admit he still cared about Yoojin and reveal his 3- uh, 4- I mean, 5- 6(!!)-Year Master Plan To Keeping Hyung Safe Forever And Ever.

Yeah. Never gonna happen.

And even that one (1) attempt at keeping Yoojin away from dungeons and Hunters and everything related could've gone really badly, because as Yoohyun himself admits in their chapter 6 conversation, his enemies will "already have started keeping an eye on you [Yoojin]". Just from one single show of apparent concern for Yoojin's wellbeing! Can you imagine what would've happened if Yoohyun kept stopping Yoojin every time he tried to go into a dungeon? Setting Yoojin's own frustration and anger aside, can you picture the kind of attention that would've gotten Yoojin? No, this was one battle Yoohyun had to lose in order to win the overall war.

Anon, you mention providing "new options for Yoojin to stop going to dungeons". Okay, sure, we're starting with Yoojin being society's black sheep and probably rejected out of hand from most positions he applies to, and Yoohyun's only leverage in society being in dungeon- and Hunter-related fields. What options would he have provided for Yoojin? A dungeon- or Hunter-related job, probably at Haeyeon or one of its affiliates? That's precisely what we're trying to avoid, and also visible enough that Yoohyun might as well not have even fucking bothered with the 6-Year Master Plan etc. etc. Okay, so then something at one of Haeyeon's sponsors-? Except Haeyeon famously doesn't have backers, and any connections they have through business deals will be glaringly obvious to Yoohyun's rivals if leveraged. Oh, Han Yoojin, the man who no one wants to hire, got a job at a company whose products Han Yoohyun sponsored just a while ago! Absolutely no one is wondering how this could've happened. Also, funny how Han Yoohyun's helping Han Yoojin find work, it's almost like he cares about him… (And so the end begins.)

Remember, all of Yoohyun's efforts at separating himself from Yoojin require actually being separate from Yoojin and the choices he makes. Yoojin's life is—unfortunately enough for Yoohyun—his own to live… and his own to ruin.

#8: The transcendent threat

And all of that—every single one of these environmental factors that make it so Yoohyun has a billion and one concerns to consider before he can so much as talk to Yoojin—all of that comes before we take into account one more fact:

God Hates Caregivers Personally.

Or, in a non-joking manner, and in the fashion Yoohyun might have learned about it from Diarma, as is strongly suggested in the virtual reality dungeon arc during chapter 246:

There are beings out there, outside your world, stronger than anything you know, and this is acknowledging the fact that you are among the strongest existences humankind will ever produce. These beings rule your entire world, are the children of the very power that created the dungeons terrorizing your planet, are themselves so powerful that they can predict dungeons and manipulate the system in their favor, that they can manipulate the circumstances of individual humans as long as they're inside dungeons. In allying with any one of their number, you make an enemy out of half of the entire population of these transcendental existences. You have already made an enemy of them. And these people, these all-powerful creatures, who you've painted yourself a rival of? These same people have a known track record of killing the loved ones of people like you.

Your brother goes into dungeons every week as part of his job. He's already at immense risk. If you go near him, if you make it seem even slightly like you're interested in him personally, you make him an out-and-out target for these transcendents, and they'll smite him. He dies, and you die, and it's game over.

Option one: You can grow to their level, meet them with equal strength, certainly, but will you get the time to grow that far before they kill your brother? Is his natural lifespan even long enough that he'd survive the time it took for your growth? He dies. You die. Game over.

Option two: Don't pose a threat. It's too late for you to never get on their radar in the first place, but if you can keep from seeming any more dangerous, maybe they won't give him any attention. Secure a favor that will let you help him when he needs it, at most, but otherwise never use your transcendent connections to your own advantage.

Option two, taken to its conclusion: If you die before your brother does—if you die calling in that favor and saving his life—you never have to see him be killed.

(Option two, on the flip side: You will not expect it to be your own ally who set the stage for your loved one to be killed.)

So, basically, every single concern Yoohyun's had about protecting his brother that made him distance himself and not tell him anything so far? All of that is taken and cranked up to difficulty level Maximum. "If I show interest in hyung, one of my rivals or enemies might choose to hurt or kill him!" The transcendents WILL kill him with NO known incentive. Yoohyun might assume it's because he poses a threat to their side, but he can't be absolutely certain that's it. In fact, he doesn't know anything about this opposing transcendent faction, since he was blocked from contacting them by the very fact of having chosen a side in the first place, as Water Droplet explains when discussing the born S-ranks in chapter 106:

“We don’t know for sure either. The filial duty addicts contacted them first, so their information is obscured. We only know that there are five, and about the ones that are in contact with you.”

And while Yoohyun-as-Alpha knows the reasons behind the immoral people killing Caregivers—namely, that they want to remove distractions for S-ranks, so that they focus on combating dungeons and monsters—if Diarma had told Yoohyun about this, and if he'd thought to apply the bare minimum of intelligence to his delivery (a disclaimer that must be made, with this transcendent in particular), I really don't think he would've told him why. No, he would've wanted the immoral people to seem like a dangerous threat, so he would just have said that they might kill Yoohyun's family, without giving him their reasoning.

Which means Yoohyun knew nothing about the immoral people's motives, nothing about their goals, nothing about what they'd see as aggression. Which meant, hypothetically, that any and every action he took could trigger them to smoothly and efficiently eliminate the only person he loved in all the world. It would be so easy, too; Yoojin's entering their turf multiple times a month as part of his daily job, a fact which we've already established Yoohyun couldn't do anything about. The only thing he knew for sure is that they hadn't killed Yoojin so far.

Remember what I said before, about the known path being safer? Because you know the dangers you'll face on it? Yoohyun knows doing what he's doing right now is keeping Yoojin alive. He can't control a single other thing outside of that. And the danger posed by not doing what he's doing just got shifted to a level he is not prepared on any level to respond to. Before, he might've thought Yoojin was safe at least inside dungeons with his chosen teams; from his perspective, "dungeons with only guild members inside are actually safer than the outside world" (chapter 134), while the outside world was more of a risk because of all of Yoohyun's enemies. But now? There is danger all the time and in every location Yoojin goes, even those outside of this world, on an insane, unrivaled level. He is never, never safe, and any single unexpected action Yoohyun takes puts that at risk. If doing anything at all is dangerous, then it's better to do nothing.

So, yeah, that's the crux of it, isn't it. Yoohyun needs to protect Yoojin every day, every single time. Everything else in the whole world only needs to kill Yoojin once. In such a situation, how would Yoohyun ever dare to risk making either of them vulnerable?

…The end! I hope that this explanation, long as it is, has given you at least some additional insight into Why Yoohyun Did All That, and helped serve as a reminder of just how little we actually know about Yoohyun's perspective of the events pre-regression.

By the way, this entire post is pulling only from information we get up to chapter 272; there’s more information revealed up to chapter 350—actually, even just in the next few chapters after that, up to 275—that sheds more light on Yoohyun’s decision-making process in the pre-regression timeline. Maybe I’ll come back and post a part 2 to this analysis someday using the additional information we get as time goes on, but right now, this much will have to be enough.

In any case—thanks for reading this far. And of course, as promised, here's the poll!

[mint-yooxgi]

To Tempt Fate - Yandere!Trickster Deities!Ateez X Reader

Yandere AU & Trickster AU

Genre: Mature, Horror, Angst

Pairing: Ateez X Reader (Focus on ??? to start hehehe)

Words: 2,246

Warnings: Implied drugging and kidnapping. This is a Yandere story, it will contain themes such as stalking, violence, obsession, possessive natures, and just general overall creepiness and swearing. You have been warned.

A/n: Surprise!!! Here’s to the start of yet another series that I hope you’ll all enjoy!! This one is going to be a bit darker than the other ones in terms of content, but it draws a bit of inspiration from The Hunger Games, and survival horror game in general. I’m really excited for this series since I have quite a bt planned for it, but I'm not sure how updates for it will look. It might just be a short side project I work on every now and then between chapter of Morning Mist and book two of HC, but I shall see! Also, if you have any predictions or theories I'd love to hear them!! Can you guess who is who yet based on the eyes? 👀 Anyways, as always, feedback is greatly appreciated!! I hope you enjoy!!~

Also, gentle reminder that I do not do tag lists.

Mini Masterlist

There’s a ringing in your ears that won’t disappear. A blaring hum that echoes almost periodically beside your head as your brow furrows. Your eyes remained closed, the familiar throb of a headache pounding against you skull. Slowly, you begin to move.

Blinking, your gaze shifts into focus, and you notice that you’re inside an unfamiliar room. The four walls are small, boxing you in on every side as you see random objects scattered around. There’s a small dresser off to the side, and as you push yourself up into a sitting position, you realize that you’ve been laying on a bed of sorts. Directly across from you sits a floor length mirror, your reflection staring back at you with nothing but confusion on your face.

The ringing starts again, and it is then that you realize that it’s your phone.

Odd, considering you always keep it on silent. Cautiously, you reach over and grab the small object from the bed. 

The number that appears onscreen is one you do not recognize, and given the sluggish state of both your mind and body, a creeping sense of dread begins to wash over you. 

You’ve most likely been drugged, and even worse, kidnapped.

Though, you find it odd that your phone remains, untouched, in your hands.

The call cuts out, the familiar picture of your home screen being displayed before your very eyes. You should probably call someone for help.

Unlocking your phone, you’re quick to open your contacts, clicking on the name of your closest friend. You hear the dial tone sound out before a harsh screeching can be heard on the other end.

Your phone goes black.

A furrow creases your brow as you turn your phone back on, seeing nothing out of the ordinary once more. Though, this time, you notice how the top corner now says ‘no service’ despite having full bars only moments ago.

That’s strange, considering you had just been receiving an incoming call not even two minutes ago.

The sound of your phone ringing once more startles you into nearly dropping it onto the ground. That same, unfamiliar number appears on your screen, practically staring up at you ominously as your heart begins to race inside of your chest.

Your eyes dart to the top corner of your screen.

No service.

Swallowing thickly, you answer the call.

“Hello?” Your voice comes out strained, only now realizing the dryness of your throat as you attempt to speak.

“Hello, Darling,” a male voice drawls out on the other end, practically purring the words out as unknown affection drips from his tongue.

“Who the hell are you, and what do you want?” You frown, sitting stiffly on the edge of the bed. Your one arm is crossed over your chest as you press your phone to your ear, staring straight ahead at your reflection in the mirror.

“My name is not of importance right now, but you are.” A giggle that sends a chill right down your spine is heard through the line. “As for what I want… well… you’ll find out soon enough. For now, I’d like to play a game.”

“I’m not playing any of your sick, twisted games.” You spit, whole body tense as anger begins to course through your veins. “Let me go, and we can pretend like none of this has ever happened.”

“Now, why would I want to do that when the prize is already within my grasp?” He replies smoothly, clearly amused by your sudden harsh tone.

You’ve heard rumours. Mere myths and legends told to you by the townsfolk of people going missing every ten years or so. Eight are usually kidnapped, forced to take part in these insanity games, yet only one ever survives. The one that does is always forever changed, prattling on about eight figures with extraordinary powers. Powers the likes of which you have never seen.

These eight figures force their victims to partake in a ritual sacrifice, disguising it beneath the premise of a game. Nothing they say can be trusted, and as soon as you are in their clutches, you can no longer trust your own mind.

At least, that’s what you’ve been told. Nothing more than a scary bedtime story for parents to tell their children in order to make them behave. A fantasy conjured up to spread fear into a town which had badly been in need of some self-control.

“Don’t let the tricksters get you! They’re always out for blood.”

You shake your head. “You sound so confident in yourself.”

The man hums. “Why wouldn’t I be? I always get what I want.”

“Not this time.” You hiss, promptly hanging up on him.

The phone in your hand gets harshly slammed down on the mattress before you’re fully crossing your arms over your chest. You can hear the familiar ringing echoing throughout the room a moment later, but you ignore it. Only when your head begins to feel fuzzy, the sound literally beginning to bounce around inside your skull, do you snatch the phone back off of the bed beside you.

“What?” You spit, a harsh tug of your brows downwards as you direct your fury filled gaze at your reflection across from you.

“The next time you hang up on me, I won’t be so forgiving.” The man’s voice is somewhat firmer this time around. Darker, in a sense, as you can tell he means every word that he says.

“You sure are putting a lot of thought into this game of yours.” You quip, gaze darting everywhere around the room for a way out.

The door looks like a good place to start.

“Only the best of the best can survive, Darling,” he replies, and there’s a sick tone of what you can only guess to be pride lingering in his voice that has you shuddering instantly. “It’s why we’re putting our faith in you this time around.”

“The hell is that supposed to mean?” You attempt to turn the knob of the door, only for it to be locked.

“We’ve decided to make an exception this time.” He responds, amusement clear in his voice as he hears you jostle the handle of the locked door a few more times to no avail. “You are the only true contender for the game this year. At least, the one we’re all betting on.”

“Yeah, you said that already,” you reply, gruffly.

Taking a step back, you eye the door cautiously. It appears to be nothing more than a simple wooden slab, but you cannot tell how thick it is. You’ll look around the room first for something to pick the lock with before attempting to break it down.

“That’s not going to work.” His voice singsongs, another spine chilling giggle echoing through your phone.

“You don’t know me, so why the fuck are you doing this?” You start rummaging through the dresser, seeing nothing but clothes that are conveniently your size placed inside. You scowl in disgust.

“Oh, but I do, My Darling,” the way he drawls out your name almost lovingly has a shiver caressing your spine once more. “We all do. Just as you know us.”

Your entire body stiffens, keeping your voice low as you reply, “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Do you not think we research our chosen candidates before submitting them to our games? Is that not something you also like to do?” The amusement is clear in his tone, though it sounds more condescending than anything.

“Again, I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Your own voice is gruff as you manage to find a few pins hidden around the room.

“Don’t act so coy with me, Darling.” You can just hear the grin he wears through the phone. “I know you’ve taken a keen interest in us. Almost as much as we have taken an interest in you.”

You remain silent, working to unlatch the lock on the door with those few pins you found. They might even come in useful later.

“Survive our games, and we will tell you all that pretty little mind of yours wants to know about us.” The male tells you.

You manage to hear the faint click of the lock sliding out of place, and your heart skips a beat in relief. “And if I don’t?”

“Then we will finally claim what has long since been desired before the time is up.” He replies, and you can hear the eagerness that leaks into his tone. The excitement alone that bleeds through causes you to grimace, a wary look in your eyes.

Then, your brow furrows in confusion, the question easily forming on your lips. “And just what could you all have possibly desired for so long?”

You stand back to your feet as you hear him chuckle. “You.”

A chill travels through your entire body as you go still, hand frozen in the air just before the doorknob. Your heart feels as if it has leapt into your throat, breath hitching as you stare straight ahead.

Fear. That’s what you’re feeling right now. Cold, dreadful fear.

“Complete our game, Darling, and we’ll give you everything you could ever want.” His voice lowers, as if he’s standing right behind you and softly caressing your ear with his whispered promises. You tense. “Anything you could ever need or desire, we will always provide for you. You just have to prove you’re worthy of us first.”

“Are you sure it’s me that needs to prove their worth to you?” You scoff, finally coming back to your senses enough to turn the handle of the door and fling it open. “I don’t need your pity.”

“If you think we pity you, you are sadly mistaken.”

“And if you think I’m going to willingly go along with this stupid game of yours, you are sadly mistaken.” You snap, stepping through the threshold and into what appears to be a large garden maze of some sort.

A boisterous laugh reaches your ears through the line. A laugh which has your brows furrowing in confusion.

“Oh, My Darling,” he sighs wistfully. “You already have.”

The sound of the line going dead reaches your ears, and you realize that whoever you’ve been talking to has ended the call. There’s an inkling in the back of your mind as to who it could have been, but you cannot be too sure until you meet him in person. Only their eyes reveal their true selves. Eyes which can never hide their intent, or so you’ve been told.

Each of the eight have a specific colour to their irises that designates their true self. From what you’ve uncovered about them, the colour reveals their age. Though, from what you understand, you’re surprised the eldest isn’t their so called leader.

Yellow. Ice blue. Red. Deep Purple. Light green. A burning orange which appears almost amber in the light. Pure white, to the deepest of blacks. All are signs of the eight tricksters which live for the thrill of the hunt. Signs you must keep alert for at any cost, for if you spot them, that means that you haven’t necessarily found them, but they have found you.

Taking a deep breath to steady your nerves, you step outside. You purse your lips, scanning the area for anything useful or familiar to you, taking in your surroundings all the while.

A stone bench sits off to the left, hidden away almost inside one of the maze’s walls. Staring forward reveals an entrance to said maze, the darkness of its interior spreading out before you. From what you can see, the path splits off to either side, giving you two options to take every time you enter. To your right rests a pure white lattice archway, red roses creeping up the sides delicately.

Turning around reveals the room you had woken up in to be a small shack of some sorts, wood lining its exterior. It appears no bigger on the outside than within, nothing more than a supposed cozy place to rest your head.

Looking up reveals the night sky, stars twinkling brightly above. The only light offered is from the moon, but oddly enough, there seems to be a natural glow surrounding the area. It’s almost as if you’ve suddenly gained the ability to see better in the dark, but you know from what little lore you’ve read about these supposed games that it’s simply a trick of the mind. It’s probably not even nighttime.

Letting out a sigh, you trudge forward. Looks like you should at least begin to explore the maze for now. You’ll need to find some food, and potentially some weapons to start. Who knows what’s lurking in the shadows just beyond your line of sight. Perhaps even a flashlight, or lantern might help.

Besides, you know more about this little game of theirs than you want to admit, and if you run into another competitor, you do not want to be the first one downed. Hopefully, though, you run into people simply wanting to escape like you do, rather than the other alternative these eight tricksters are always so keen on encouraging. You’d rather create allies, rather than enemies to start.

Stepping forward with nothing but the clothes on your back, and a cellphone that has been practically rendered useless in your back pocket, you begin.

[elfieafterdark]

I'm trying a thing, we getting a happy ending and here's why.

Preamble

Okay, @locked-in-the-tomb has me thinking about this. So let me outline why as a writer, I believe we're getting a griddlehark ending.

Firstly, credentials. I have written over a million words, 70+ works worth of fan fiction over the last 2 and 1/2 to 3 years. Including some that got pretty popular. However I will admit that I am not classically trained, I have a computer science degree not an English degree so bear with my horrible layman way of describing these things.

Lastly, I could just be full of shit. This could just be a whole bunch of cope. Because by the tomb I am coping so hard for a satisfying ending.

Beginning

So let's talk about the ending of the locked tomb. And also the beginning. I find my best received works are the ones that don't trick people.

An example would be my fanfiction called There's No One Like You, it's the most popular one I've ever done, it is novel length, it's a combination of a high school drama with a mystery thriller.

And I very clearly telegraph what the mystery is in the very first chapter. I won't spoil it too much just in case someone wants to read it, but in the first chapter is a very clear hint of where the story is going.

It's classic setup, you set something up, you telegraphed that it has been set up, you let it hang there for a bit, and then you pay it off. That's how you create a satisfying element to a story.

Now I'm going to argue that the entirety of Gideon the Ninth is setup. The entire book is, at its core, about Gideon and Harrow coming to terms with how they really feel about each other. What is my proof for such a bold claim?

Well let me ask you a question, what did we all think when we realized that Harrow spent all the previous night burying bones just so Gideon couldn't escape? We all thought the same thing, who the fuck would do that? And, why the fuck would you do that? And then we all got it, ahh, these two are enemies to lovers. Gotcha.

And let me ask you another question about Gideon the Ninth. What is the one scene that sticks out to you the most? When you think of the book what's one of the first scenes that comes to mind?

The Pool Scene.

The pool scene is arguably the most important scene in the entirety of the book. It's the scene in which we get answers to most of this book's mysteries. Why did 200 children die in the 9th? Why didn't Gideon die? Why was Harrow so vicious to Gideon?

All of these questions are answered, The 200 children were murdered to create Harrow, Gideon didn't die because the nerve gas had no effect on her, Harrow was so vicious to Gideon because Gideon was a reminder of what Harrow is.

Notice how most of those mysteries have to do with Harrow and Gideon. Because whatever themes you can extract from the story,

I would argue that Gideon the Ninth is about their relationship. They both need to come to terms with the shitty lives they've had, and they need to come to terms with the fact that those shitty lives aren't their fault.

Gideon forgives Harrow, and all but explicitly declares her love for her. In that pool, and Harrow is so happy. It's the emotional crux of the story (heh)

And it's setup for the series

If you haven't noticed, this series is about two people. Everyone else is incidental to that story. The series is about Gideon and Harrow. It's about their relationship.

Gtn is about them actually coming to a mutual understanding and respect. The very instant the other is in danger all of the pretense is dropped and that goes both ways.

Htn is all about everybody and everything telling Harrow that she should give up and move on, and her resoundingly telling everyone to fuck off. It's about the sacrifice she made to save Gideon's soul.

Now I've only seen Harrow mentioned twice in Nona so far, and both of those times are her hanging out with who I suspect to be God? I don't know I don't want to analyze that too far. We haven't seen Gideon at all so I'm not going to talk too much about Nona.

But the pool scene very clearly sets up the endgame, and that end game is cemented by the letter Harrow writes to Gideon, knowing that Gideon survives being consumed.

One Flesh, One End. Aka, I love you. I've talked about how this phrase is really a declaration of endlessly devoted love before, but they come to terms with their relationship, they sleep in adjacent beds which is as close to sleeping in the same bed as you can literally get without doing it, and they fight like hell to save the other.

Subverting Expectations: the Devil's Writing Trick

It's a pretty compelling setup isn't it? Fate has cruelly ripped them apart, and neither of them is willing to accept that, to the point that Gideon willingly became a part of Harrow; not to mention the point that Harrow is willing to lobotomize herself to preserve Gideon's soul.

That's a big setup, with Gideon's death, we understand the emotional conflict for the rest of the series. A conflict that is only confirmed by literally every single page of Harrow the Ninth.

How are they gonna fix this and be together? Remove all the awesome world building, remove all the excellent supporting characters, remove all of the religious theming, carve away all of the gay shit; and I earnestly believe that's what you have left.

How are they going to fix this? How are they going to be together? These are the questions that keep us all coming back. These are the questions that have us chomping at the bit for Alecto.

Now imagine after all that setup, after all that telegraphing, imagine that the answer to this question was

"they don't fuck you."

Let me ask you all something? Is that a satisfying ending? Is pouring all of this effort into these characters who in turn pour all their efforts into saving each other worth it at all if they don't succeed in the end?

Now some people might say that there's a beauty in tragic endings. And there is. I just think most of the time they're cheap.

I think I speak for many people when I say we want a story where characters go through all sorts of Hell, get beat the fuck up, struggle mightily against impossible odds, and maybe they lose some stuff along the way; but then they triumph.

The setup in Gideon the Ninth, that is continued through Harrow and I suspect we'll also be present in Nona is that they're going to fight everything in order to be together.

And based on how Harrow blatantly refuses to look back at the end of Harrow? The obvious trajectory of those decisions and these character moments is that they're going to succeed.

They've come this far, they've defied death itself. I just can't see the books ending any other way. Any other ending is going to feel like muir is spitting in our faces.

You paid attention to all that foreshadowing? Go fuck yourself on an iron fence.

Like do you all see what I'm trying to say here? The setup is that they get together, and there better be a goddamn payoff otherwise I'm going to riot.

Anyway, I would apologize for the length of this but I had a lot of fun writing it. And that's all that really matters in the end.

Thanks y'all, more to come soon 💖

[ezziefox]

The Reason Why I Can't Move On in Writing + more depressing thoughts

I think I just realized why it's so hard for me to surpass three or four chapters max when I begin to write my new books, or why I always find myself taking a break and taking forever to get back to it, and when I do, the momentum that might've never been there in the first place is lost and I don't know where to pick back up in my WIP.

I recently became more and more aware of how much time I spend on social media. But that's not the big issue I'm talking about here. It's my attention span and my anxiety.

Addressing the Anxiety

There are a lot of things in my life that I get anxiety about, and it largely comes into play whenever I'm writing in my free time. As I still attend high school, I don't get much free time, but even in my free time I fret about how much time I have. Because when I write, I love to get lost in it, listening to my music and all. But, as a person who has a strong hatred for my school especially and nothing can ever fix that hatred (the pandemic ruined everything for me in that regards), every time I open Word or some other app to begin my writing, instead of thinking about getting lost in my work and getting in the moment and writing seamlessly like I did when I first discovered Wattpad back in the summer of 2020, I instead focus on how much time I have to write what I want to.

And because of this constant timer and thought in the back of my head, instead of getting lost in what I love to do, I am instead constantly fearful and anxious of my time running out before I have to go to bed to return to the very place that depresses and maddens me to my core. And I have nothing nor no one to blame but my own mental health. But I still can never find myself liking school to at least make myself feel better. I wish I could attend a different school, even in a different country. I really wish I could have a restart so that I can have an open mind and freeer mind to continue doing what I love.

And in times when I get endless time like I've never before like summer, that idea of endless time and "soon I'll be able to do what I want to do with no push or setbacks" quickly dries up and goes out the door. Especially when my trip is close to ending, all I can ever really think about is how much time I have left. I'd rather spend it procrastinating and "having fun" whilst still realizing that it will come to an end, rather than get lost in my writing and when I shut the computer and look up, it's time for all fun to end — the free paper is burned.

I genuinely don't know how I'm going to get through this part without a complete mind reset and change of environment. As it goes for the mind reset part, my mind will never change. Not without a significant change in my life. And I hate that. But my mind refuses to be unstuck from the place it is in now.

As for...

Addressing My Short Attention Span

Because of the aforementioned anxiety with time I addressed, I've begun to consume my media (entertainment & procrastination) in short form so that it feels like I've gotten in so much fun in such a short time that I feel satisfied. How to explain this in simpler terms?.... Well.... I'm constantly fearful and anxious of my free time ending that I convince myself it's been longer than it's truly been by watching short-form content such as YT shorts, Instagram reels, and when I watch actual full-length videos, instead of watching completely through the video, I simply listen to it for a short while, and to get the gist of it and thoughts on it, I read through the comments while watching as little of it as I need to before I quickly lose interest and go find a different video to watch.

Tonight, as I write this to save it as a draft to post tomorrow, I've been trying to fix my attention span by sitting through some of the old content I used to watch, that being documentary-type videos. It's been going well so far. I've sat through all the videos and seldom went to the comment section. I didn't skip through any of them or anything like that. However, I did stop in the middle of one video to come and write this right now. I knew I could've waited until tomorrow, but I feared I wouldn't have been able too convey the emotions of realization that I am feeling right now as well and explain it as well as I am feeling it.

——

I'm hoping that this truly is my issue, and that once I fix my attention span, I can at least get through writing more chapters, no matter how long it takes. I'm fully aware that especially once school starts back, so will the anxiety leeching itself onto me. But anything is better than nothing, right?

Sigh.

If you're just like me, or something like it, my advice to address and sort out your attention span. And if it's within your reach and capability, your anxiety too. It's these things that hold us back from accomplishing anything in life, and writing is something we wish to accomplish, so if you can, find a way to conquer them. Do what I currently can't.

All of this deeply saddens me. I don't know where to go next, if I even want to move, or what will find its way to me next. Needless to say, I don't have much hopes for the future, but at the same time I do.

I like to tell myself I always give up, and then I realize that I never truly do and it's always f*cking with me. Sometimes I wish I would just give up, because no matter how much I want things or desperately hope that some miracle will grant certain things in my life, I always end up f-cking myself over in the end. I am mentally f-cked and tired. No matter how many breaks I get, it never seems to be enough for me.

And I always want more. I get told I already have everything. It's just so much going on in my life from family, to friends, to my own mind that just constantly fucks me over and disregards me in every way. I don't want to drop any personal information regarding the people around me, so that's all I'm gonna say about that.

You know, today I realized that it's one thing: being a kid and never truly realizing how much something or someone in your life is mentally f-cking you over, versus growing older and you're only a teen and you realize it in real time as it's happening. Earlier I wished that I could just be the former: be a kid that doesn't realize the mental gravity and toll that's being taken on me as I have no one but my cousin in my life that truly understands me and went through the same experiences as me and it's mentally f_cked her too.

[physalian]

Writing with Executive Dysfunction (or how to lower the barrier of entry)

So you want to write a book, but all you have is a cool one-liner, a niche super power you want to explore, and the blurry image of a love interest with a two-syllable kind of name. You don’t know where to start, what to tackle first, how to jump in the deep end.

Can you write the ending first? What if you want this really cool gimmick in a fight scene but can’t write action to save your life? Do you start in media res or with a prologue, or with the character starting their daily routine? Do you write the villain’s POV first?

Or do you start with an outline, character sheets, a title, summary, your themes and motifs? How many pages and pages of worldbuilding notes should you have built up before you’re good to tackle the first page? You’ve heard time and again the critical importance of the first three sentences. The first chapter if your audience is generous.

The pressure mounts to be unique, but not try-hard, descriptive but not flowery, intriguing, but not confusing, all in the first hundred or so words. You sit there staring at the little blinking black line on your blank page… and the idea gets shelved for another day. It collects virtual dust in the backlogs of your computer, forgotten until you have to clear out space on your hard drive and stumble across unspent potential.

Everyone and their dog has their own bits of writing advice and I’m sure I’m about to echo tips that have been around the block once or twice, but there are a few I don’t see talked about enough.

Whether you suffer from severe procrastination, fear of failure before you even begin, the overwhelming limitlessness of choice, or just can’t sit down and dedicate any time to see what happens, this list might be for you.

1. Write Every Day

This is nothing new, but I’m going to tackle the implementation of such a habit over why it’s important. You already know why it’s important. Writing every day doesn’t demand a full page of a Word doc, or 200 words before you can get up and do something else. Sometime a witty dialogue exchange comes to mind while you’re doing dishes – write that down.

Or you saw a cool name for a character in a commercial – write that down.

Or you had a dream about your characters in a high-octane street chase – write down the synopsis.

Personally, I use Apple Notes. It’s free, I can log-in to iCloud through a browser and keep writing, and my phone is always with me. I have dedicated folders to sort which notes belong to which concepts.

Disclaimer: Apple Notes is meant for exactly that: Note taking. I take it to the extremes, but it’s not a word processer. It’s not meant for anything more strenuous than putting virtual pen to virtual paper.

I build up so many variations of scene ideas and concepts for character arcs that my ‘notes’ for any given book can be as long as a full-length novel. Most of the time, admittedly, those ideas get outdated fast as I move on to bigger and better things, but the point is this: I never would move on to better things if I didn’t have somewhere to start.

I have a personal grudge against OneDrive for a sync failure losing 20k words of a WIP, so most of my writing is done through Google Docs and saved to Google Drive. It’s not the most powerful word processor, but you don’t have to worry about formatting until the very end and can export later. It’s free, like Apple Notes (assuming you have an iPhone), and the smart phone app for Google programs works phenomenally better than the MS Word app – so once again, the barrier for being within reach of places to jot down ideas is lowered. My phone is always with me.

It doesn’t have to be digital – carry around a journal or a notebook or a legal pad if you want. Whatever gets your creative juices flowing. The point is to have somewhere to take all the ideas you have in your head and get them onto paper the moment inspiration strikes.

2. Writing is Supposed to be Fun

The dreaded writer’s block, scourge of authors everywhere. You’ve reached the point in your manuscript where you’ve caught up to the epic adventure you’ve written in your head. The little writer in your brain has gone on strike and you’re left in the doldrums of how to transition from one chapter to the next. One idea to the next. One scene, one line of dialogue.

Answer: Skip it.

Unless you have a hard deadline to make, writing is supposed to be fun. Your best work comes when you’re passionate about doing it, not when you’re holding your fingers hostage to put something on the page or else.

When you start getting frustrated, walk away. When you get stressed, walk away. The manuscript will still be there once you’ve slept on it for a day or two and you’ll be glad for it. Or, write a different scene. Write a hypothetical scene (more on this point later). Write anything you want and come back to the hard parts later. The gaps will fill eventually, and if they don’t—consider what about that transition or scene is so hard and consider axing it entirely. If it’s frustrating for you, it’s probably boring or unimportant to the reader.

3. Script it

My favorite writer’s crutch is to make a skeleton of the scene I want to have, fill it with dialogue, and move on. The pretty thematic narrative can come later. It’s halfway between an outline and a first draft and, for me, someone to whom dialogue comes easier than narrative, this is another barrier removed to letting creativity flow.

I don’t have to think about dialogue tags or movement of a scene or how exactly I want to structure a sentence or describe the setting. Scripting lets me sus out the pacing of a given scene, test run a conversation I have in my head to see if it might really work before investing all the time and effort of a fully fleshed out first draft, only to erase it all later.

You can do this mid-narrative, too. If you just want to skip over a couple lines that aren’t coming naturally to you, script a vague sense of stage directions until you get to easier narrative and come back later.

When I say scripting, mine look something like this:

Character A (ChA): [position within the setting, tone of voice, any notable gesture or action that enhances the dialogue] “Dialogue.” [specific dialogue tag, if necessary] … (often a paragraph break) … “Dialogue.” Character B (ChB): “Dialogue.” [emotion, reaction, details about the setting that are now important, new revelations by the narrating POV] … “Dialogue,” [action. Tonal shift. Movement] ChA: “Dialogue.” [action] … (scene continues)

In practice:

… ChA: [kicks back against the wall of the room, arms crossed. Annoyed, waiting for ChB to speak first, but they don’t] “Why didn’t you tell me you wanted to leave?” [head tilts, still waiting on an answer ChB isn’t giving] “All you had to do was ask.” ChB: “You were having fun,” [quiet, wringing their hands in their lap on the edge of the bed] “You wanted me there. So I was there.” [huffs, flips their hair back. Not sure how many times they’ve had this conversation. Will always hate parties, not going to suddenly like them just because ChA is there] “You can either have me there, or make sure I’m comfortable. You can’t have both.” ChA: “So now I’m the bad guy.” [foot thumps on the floor like a judge’s gavel] …

Scripting also lets you fill a scene with multiple new characters before you figure out their names or descriptions, tagging their lines with the bare minimum. I often test out entire action scenes (which I loathe writing) in script form, so I know I’m satisfied with the pacing, blocking, and amount of movement before I lock it in and write the first draft of actual narrative. It also forces you to make sure your characters are taking actions and not just sitting at a table like talking mannequins.

Transitioning from script to narrative can be mighty tedious sometimes if you try to fit in chunks of narrative in the exact places you left on your initial pass. Fictional prose is organic, so let it breathe.

Maybe you let a character monologue for too long, or they have too much movement in a scene that becomes unnatural and clunky. Or the entire scene ran away from you because the conversation was just that good. Whatever the case, a script, bare minimum, gets your foot in the door.

4. Write Fanfic

I like sci-fi and fantasy. I also like taking my sci-fi and fantasy characters and throwing them into ‘fanfics’ to test out relationships and start to get a feel for what makes them unique from the rest of the cast.

Sometimes the setting changes to something mundane, sometimes it’s a hypothetical scene that the current pacing of the narrative just doesn’t have room for, or it’s a flashback you’ll never include but want to have written so it’s concrete when you reference it in the present.

It also helps you fall in love with your characters when you can write them without consequence, doing whatever, doing whoever, saying whatever, going wherever. In fanfic, their personalities can start to write themselves and you discover them as you write them. And, hey, sometimes you come up with a concept so good, you change the entire real narrative around to fit it.

All your attention doesn’t have to be on the story you’re actually writing.

5. Keep All of Your Deleted Scenes

I keep so many of mine, the ‘deleted scenes’ doc of one book is 40k words longer than the actual manuscript, filled with numerous variations of the same scene written over and over again in vain trying to keep something that no longer works.

Keep them for several reasons:

It reminds you of how far you’ve come.

You can pick through the bones for bits of dialogue and setting descriptors even if the majority is trashed.

You remind yourself of what didn’t work before, so you don’t fall in that same trap again.

If you change your mind, all you have to do is copy-paste it back in.

6. Remember First Drafts are First Drafts

Let the word spew flow forth from your fingers and don’t look back and start questioning every decision and all its flaws until your creativity tank starts sputtering on empty. It’s supposed to be messy, it’s supposed to have plot holes and typos and inconsistencies and things to fact-check. If you start hyper-fixating on making sure your manuscript has absolutely no errors before moving on to the next chapter, it will never get written, and you’ll convince yourself you’re a terrible writer.

Writing is easy. Revisions are hard. Just as storytelling doesn’t have to be linear, neither does the writing process. If that critical first line just won’t come to you, stuff a mediocre one in its place and move on. Write the ending first. Write all the romantic entanglements first. Write the big climactic argument first and figure out how the rest falls into place around your beautiful centerpiece.

But remember: You do, at some point, have to write the hard stuff. Hopefully, when the time comes, you look at all the rest you’ve written and are proud enough of your progress that those daunting scenes that looked impossible before become much more approachable now. Do it for your future readers who want to know how it ends. Do it for your characters. Do it for you.

[crazycurly-77]

Like an old married couple - Chapter 3

Actually it was really good to work for the NCIS and you were welcomed wholeheartedly by your colleagues. 

But if you didn't know better you would say Gibbs was giving you a hard time and tried to rile you up. You didn't get head-slapped like the other team members, no…for you he seemed to reserve the really annoying things. 

Nobody could say who started this fight, but neither of you was going to step down. 

“Bring it on! Two can play this game” you thought and began to press his buttons, too. 

So you two began to observe each other to get hints how to get on the nerves of the other one. This was the beginning of your dance around each other. Always riling each other up and messing with each other and nobody had the courage to step between you two. 

He began to throw his coat over the thin wall which separated your desks so it covered the screen of your computer and you had to stop typing. You clenched your teeth and threw it on his desk on which he sat and was grinning widely. 

Your chance of revenge came as he slammed his fist on his poor screen because it didn't worked as he wanted. He left the office shortly after to get some coffee and as he came back you had wrapped up the screen full on with nice pink foam material. 

Snorting in anger he came directly to you and whispered dangerously “do you have anything to do with this?” Your noses were nearly touching so you took a step back smiled angelically and said “I don’t know what you mean.”

He was fuming with rage, but said nothing more. He went to his desk and cutted the foam to pieces with his knife. 

“Yessss! Strike!” you celebrated silently as you continued to work. 

Your next little fight was started by you. It was impossible for you to keep quite, it simply was to good a chance. 

Passing Gibbs’ desk you noticed that he held his mobile at arms length to be able to read it which led you to a marvelous idea… 

…after work you bought something for him and had the cashier wrap it in beautiful gift paper. The next morning you walked very early into the bullpen and laid the little package on his desk. 

So you sat at your own desk and worked away. 

After a short while you jumped because Gibbs yelled your name on top of his lungs. Yep, he had found your gift to him - a senior mobile with extra big screen and keys. But before you can react in any way he slammed his hand right next to yours and whispered a warning directly in your ear “watch it”. 

With that he leaves for the MTAC and you took a deep breath. Maybe this one was too much, so you decided on getting coffee as compensation. 

Surprisingly he accepted your peace offering and you thought to yourself that everything is fine. 

In this point you two were alike. You never said no to coffee. And despite of the things you were doing to each other you never touched your coffees. 

Actually when you were not fighting with one another you brought each other a coffee from time to time. 

The others wondered what's the matter with the pair of you and were gossiping about you and Gibbs that you were smitten with each other because of your constant fighting. 

After a few days without any incident you assumed that there were no response from Gibbs concerning your latest prank, but boy were you wrong… 

(To be continued...)

------------------------------------------

Here you will find the other chapters of this story and the other stories I've written to date.

------------------------------------------

[cleoooelizabeth]

Hyunjin (SKZ) x Female Reader (Y/N)

Y/N is moving to South Korea and she is extremely nervous, until she bumps into Hyunjin…

Warnings: fluff, flirting, angst, racism (Hyunjin coming to your rescue, not that you need it). Also, I don’t know Korean so they will all speak English, just use your imagination lmao.

Chapter 1

Y/N steps off the plane at Incheon International Airport, Y/N breathes in the air as she truly begins to come to terms with the fact that she will be starting a new life, in a new country, and she doesn’t know anyone.

There’s no point in panicking yet, she muses, she hadn’t even left the airport yet. Y/N takes her time through the airport, knowing that her luggage would still be there even if she didn’t shove her way through the crowd like the rest of the seemingly distressed travelers.

Once Y/N arrived at the baggage claim, her pastel pink suitcase was still on the conveyor belt, as she predicted. Most of the crowd had cleared so she had no issues removing it from the belt. Y/N got her suitcase and her hand luggage situated comfortably before she turned to leave the airport. 

“OW!” Y/N exclaims as she walks face first into a solid wall-like object. She rubs her nose as she looks up at the intrusion, locking eyes with one of the most beautiful men she had ever seen. Pulling her gaze away, she looks down at the smudge of foundation she knew would be on his brilliantly white shirt. 

“Shit, I’m sorry, let me pay for the dry cleaning or something. How much was the shirt?” She rambles.

“It’s Chanel. I don’t know if you’d be able to afford it. But don’t worry, I have more anyway.” He states.

“Cocky, aren’t we?” Y/N raises her eyebrow, her neck straining to see his face, which allows her to realize that they were still standing very close to each other. She hadn’t been able to back away after walking into him as the conveyor belt was behind her legs.

He smirks when he notices how nervous she is. “I’m Hyunjin, what’s your name?”

“Uh, Y/N.” It comes out almost as a whisper, he makes her breathless.

“Pretty name, for a pretty girl.” He compliments her, the smirk still pulling at his full lips.

“I better get going, I still need to pick up my keys. I’m moving into my new flat, in Hongdae, today.” Y/N says, her excitement obvious.

“Ok, but do you have any clue where you’re going?” Hyunjin asks, moving back a little.

“Not really, no. I was going to just book a taxi, I have the address.” Y/N states, pulling up the notes app on her phone and showing it to Hyunjin so he can save it in his GPS.

“Well I have a perfectly functional car and plenty of spare time if you’d like me to take you. Don’t want you wandering the streets of Seoul.”

“Ok, yeah. I mean, we just met… but I’m tired and you’re pretty. So yes, onward!” She exclaims, he laughs with her, admiring her waist length braids swaying with her hips as she walks ahead of him.

She stops suddenly, pivoting to face him again. “I just realised; I have no clue where your car is. After you, pretty boy.” She giggles. Hyunjin finds her even more adorable now, he didn’t think that was possible.

Once they reach the car, Hyunjin takes her luggage, putting it in the boot of the car with his own bag. He watches as she slips into the passenger seat, her knees bouncing as she waits patiently for him to get into the driver’s seat.

Hyunjin can feel her eyes on him as he starts the car, he places his hand on her head rest as he looks behind to reverse. He looks down and notices her breathing pick up slightly.

“You good? You look a little nervous.” He smirks, once again.

“I’m fine.” She clears her throat and faces the windscreen, hands clasped together in her lap.

‘He’s getting a kick out of this.’ Y/N thinks to herself.

“Ok well, can you put that address into the GPS app so I know where I’m driving.” He says as he unlocks his phone and passes it to her.

He focuses on the road as she types. “There.” Y/N declares as she places his phone into the holder on the dashboard. She then relaxes into the seat, however, her nerves are still obvious as her knee continues to bounce.

“You can relax, you know. I don’t bite.” He winks, suggestively.

Now all she can think about is him sinking his teeth into that sensitive spot between her neck and shoulder. Her thighs squeezing together at the thought.

“How long will it take to drive there?” Y/N questions, a feeble attempt at distracting herself from this ethereal man.

“About an hour, with this traffic.” He answers without taking his eyes off the road.

His head twitches to the side when he hears your stomach rumbling.

“Sorry, I’m hungrier than I thought I was.” You say, with your hands covering your face in embarrassment.

“Ok, why don’t we stop along the way. I can take you to the best places so you can have the best first authentic Korean food experience, if you’d like.” He suggests.

“I’d actually like that a lot.” Y/N mutters with a shy smile.

After an hour or so, Hyunjin had parked the car next to a building that looked like no one had been there in years.

“Where the hell are we?” Y/N questions. 

“Here is where you will taste the best tteokbokki of your life.” Hyunjin replies, his face entirely sincere.

“Why are you doing this?” She questions him. “You’re being so kind to me, someone you just met.”

She watches his face as he thinks. 

“I know I don’t have to do this, but I liked your vibe from the moment I met you, so here we are.” He states. “Now come on.” He takes her hand and pulls her into the restaurant.

They sit opposite each other at a table close to the entrance.

“Yu-gi-yo!” Hyungin raises his voice slightly to get the waiter’s attention.

The waitress quickly walks over after hearing Hyunjin call them over.

“What can I get for you?” The waitress asks, sickly sweet.

It’s very obvious that she is attracted to him, I mean, who wouldn’t be? She notices, however, that his attention hasn’t left the woman he came in with.

“2 orders of tteokbokki, please.” He informs the waitress, his eyes still on Y/N.

The waitress exhales dramatically, walking away to place our order, once she realizes that he is entirely uninterested.

Y/N sits for a moment, feeling a little awkward. “You’re staring.”

“I prefer the term, observing.” He corrects her.

“Call it whatever you want, I just wanna know why you’re doing it.” Y/N huffs.

Hyunjin continues to stare at Y/N, entirely disinterested in her developing discomfort, but aware of her building arousal.

Fortunately, the food arrives before he could make the situation anymore tense.

“Go ahead, taste it…” He encourages her.

Y/N hesitantly takes a bite of a soft looking rice cake. Once in her mouth, her eyes nearly roll back into her skull, the flavour overwhelming her taste buds.

“You like it?” He asks, his facial expression hopeful.

“It’s delicious.” Y/N responds, her mouth still half full of tteokbokki.

“Of course, it’s a classic.” Hyunjin states as he shovels in a mouthful of his own.       

 

                

“My god, I don’t think I’ve ever been this full in my life!”

“So, you liked it then?” Hyunjin inquires.

“You knew I’d like it, who couldn’t? It’s the best thing I’ve ever tasted!” Y/N replies with enthusiasm.

“Ok, well, if you liked that, I’m sure you can trust my opinion from now on, right?” He asks.

“I believe so, yes.” She replies.

“Then, follow me.”

And she does.

[fangswbenefits]

I was going to comment on the auctual chapter but I have alot to say about it so I'm gonna put my thoughts here. As always. I love your writing.

I loved the way it started, like I love how you portrayed the memory of Astarion being burned by the sun. It was perfect. And the sence of calm but also panic, when he saw Tav, was just 🥺 beautiful... and how he tried to push her away, but in the end he still succumbed to her because she's the only person he's ever truly cared for, my tears started falling immeadatley.

The way he reacted when Ava started jabbing him about Tav was just amazing!! I love how he defended Tav and deep inside he blammed himself for her ever getting involved ((which like, it's kinda his fault but like, how would you know it would get this messy?)) AND THEN HE SAID "doing the right thing" I was like YAY!!! LIKE awh 😭 I love his character development, like the bridge between the game and your writing is so beautiful and they changes he goes through and the emotions in your writing they just feel so real 😭

When Tav and Astarion were talking about the first time he fed on her. That really resonated with me. I could feel the excitement coursing through him and the love and lust he felt for her. And I felt it instantly vanish too... I felt the entire ending on a very personal level. I know all too well what it's like to be discusted by things like that, and I felt so bad for Astarion... I wanted to chase him and hug him. But also, I know that he needs alone time...

I also felt like this chapter ended exactly how it began. And I loved that. I love when things come full circle. I really really hope that Even if Astarion dosnt get the wish spell, he is able to be with Tav and live happily.

I'm so sorry for the long message I just really wanted to share my thoughts on this chapter, you are an amazing writer and I see all the time and effort you put into your works, you deserve so much more than a "good job" you really do, and I hope you see it too 🫂

First off, don't apologise for the length of this ask! It was so heartwarming reading what you had to say about this chapter and feel the love you have for this story 🫂 thank you! 🩷

It's definitely a running theme throughout this story. Astarion gets ahead of himself because he's tired of having his body being held back by his own mind. Sometimes, it works. Sometimes, it doesn't. This was a clear example of it. The timing of it all was wrong, and the conversation with Ava just amplified his insecurities and guilt (especially as he recalled how he had sought to use Tav at the beginning of their journey together).

Trauma can really, really warp someone for life. I know that all too well from first-hand experience.

That scene really took a toll on me for like a day, but it felt necessary to tue story.

Thank you so much for reaching out and sharing your thoughts with me 🥺

[shadowthestoryteller]

Health Hiatus Announcement

This is gonna be a long post, but a necessary one that has quite a bit of important info relating to the future of my creative works concerning the Adventures!AU series. First, look at this lovely new cover art for Off to a Great Start I had done by my bud Arven92 on DA. The title has changed to The Adventure Begins, but the main story within is the same. 

The light reveals their true Alphian form (symbolic only, not a lore aspect) while their shadow shows their ultimate fate as a member of Clone Force 99/Bad Batch. The bookshelves are a key location (library), but the merge into woods represents how they're entering into a very real adventure that isn't just a fantasy they write into books. Really happy how it turned out ^^

Onto the main post! 

TLDR: Adventures!AU is being drastically shortened for my sanity and physical health into two arcs (six books each) but most likely will cease full chapter uploads after arc one as I am tired af, I don’t want to be doing this series into my 50s, and I want to turn my focus back to my originals eventually. Next year will see postings of the series prologue, Anachronism, as well as hopefully the Remaster of Off to a Great Start/The Adventure Begins. I will still be very active on my discord, where some chapters of next year's stories have already been posted. But for my other story posting sites (aka Wattpad) all new Star Wars content is on hiatus until 2026.

Been wanting to make a big post for a while for the people who aren’t a part of the discord, especially since I’ve more or less dropped off the face of tumblr after it became unhealthy due to comparison eating me alive. If you like my work, you’re welcome to join the server which is dedicated to my works. I’m active in there a few times a week, and even post bi-weekly updates as to what I’ve been working on. And I’ve posted six chapters of remastered Off to a Great Start/The Adventure Begins complete with new scenes, new povs, and even more snark! Just message me for the link, I'm still wary of a stalker finding me again.

Now, for the meat of this update. 

Y’all. I am just… dog dead tired. And stressed beyond belief. Some of it isn’t related to the Adventures!AU itself (job hunt, burnout from completing my Masters in May, ect), but a lot of it admittedly is. Considering I’ve written almost 500k words in just under 5 years, it’s no surprise. Some people don’t write that in a lifetime, and I’m out here doing that on top of college. Proud of myself for that. 

What I’m not proud of, however, is ignoring my body’s warning signals and pushing myself past my limits not once, but twice. Once in 2022, and now again in 2024. Nothing major or genuinely life-altering, but when I say my health anxiety went off the rails. Been a rough few weeks lol. 

But that leads me to now. 

Adventures!AU. My series following the adventures of my self-insert as they become a member of Clone Force 99 back when it was just four members, with the added twist of it being in an alternate universe where the Star Wars universe has crossed over with my original stories. It’s not as big as non-self insert series, but Over the River and Through the Woods (which sits at a whopping 66 chapters and 200k+ words) once got #19 out of 60k in the ocs tag. The series has been going since April 2020, seeing four completed stories of various lengths and one WIP that sits at 21 chapters and 93k words. 

Aside from the recently completed Fallen Not Forgotten, it’s been on hiatus since Dec of 2023. At least as far as chapter uploads go. It’s certainly not been collecting dust. To say it underwent some intense restructuring in July is an understatement. A big understatement. 

I originally had seventeen books planned for the series as of three months ago, sectioned into four arcs with Anachronism kinda being a “prologue” to the main Adventures!AU series. Before this timeline is banished to the dream graveyard, I’m sharing it so y’all can at least see where it was gonna go. The four arcs would have had four books each, and were structured thus:

Bonds Forged Through Fire and Storm

Off to a Great Start (25 chapters)

Over the River and Through the Woods (66 chapters)

To the Far Reaches (66 chapters)

Welcome to War Games (25 chapters)

Into the Light Through Acts in the Dark

Commander, Meet the Cat (Remastered, 20 chapters)

Fallen Not Forgotten (Remastered, 20 chapters)

Risk vs Reward (20 chapters)

Bane of My Existence (20 chapters)

Wars of the Realms

Call of the Wild (20 chapters)

Convergence Hijinks (20 chapters)

Let’s See What You’re Really Made Of (20 chapters)

Anachronistic Adventures (20 chapters)

Decaying Dreams and Deadly Dances

Shadow in the Dark (40 chapters)

Murder Uncle Mayhem (40 chapters)

No Good Deed Goes Unpunished (40 chapters)

A Legacy in Question(40 chapters)

The plans I had for this series were intricate, deep, and would push many characters to their limits. 

But turns out, it wasn’t just the characters pushed to their breaking point. 

I got sick. A rather severe case of acid reflux that landed me in the docs office for the second time in two years. That started in mid-July, and I’m still dealing with it. Will probably be dealing with the sickness afterward for another month at least. But leading up to all that, I’ve been reflecting on the series as a whole and where exactly I want it to go, how I want it to end, and all that jazz. 

Then I did a scheduling test in Excel using the above chapter load plus the 30 I had planned for Anachronism. Assuming two chapters a month with minimal breaks here and there, this series would finally end in 2050. That is by no means sustainable, and while I have had a lot of fun with this series and daydreaming about the different plotlines is a comfort activity, I can’t see myself writing these books for that long. I really want to publish my original stories some day, but I also won’t pretend that I’m not a bit tired of the series. At least, tired of pushing myself to work on stories that just don’t give the same rush of dopamine they used to. It’s almost a chore now to work on them, at least in the case of FNF. 

Full disclosure, that story has been a problem child since day one. Actually, I’m pretty sure the stress of that story is what pushed me over the edge and caused the health issues in 2022 that sent me to the doc with acid reflux the first time. Messing with canon and trying to keep the timeline continuous (with timetravel in the mix too) was nothing short of infuriating. The trajectory changed so many times as I wrote it, which I sadly feel is evident in the story. It really seems like a disjointed mess. I’m just so disappointed how it turned out, but I was determined to at least finish it and not leave everyone on a cliffhanger. And I’m proud of myself for at least finishing it, even if I cut out at least four threads from the ending. It just wasn’t healthy to keep going. 

Nor was it going to be healthy if I kept the series structured like I had it. 

So, I took the steps to fix that. 

Seventeen stories became twelve, four arcs became two. Some storylines were combined into one book (ex: Risk vs Reward and Bane of My Existence) while others (ex: Adventures!AU Batch meeting canon batch in Convergence Hijinks) were cut completely. I hated to lose some, but I’ve always been one to appreciate quality over quantity. Combining books and plotlines will help streamline things and make it more manageable. Some books also get new titles.

Arc one keeps its name, and will cover six books; Four main books then a prologue and epilogue of sorts. Anachronism, The Adventure Begins, Over the River and Through the Woods, To the Far Reaches, Welcome to War Games, and Moving Back to Look Forward. This arc covers Shadow’s initial fandom jump into the Tintin 2011 movie, their first mission with the Bad Batch, and them meeting the sailors again this time with the Batchers. Arc two will also keep its name and cover the entirety of the group’s interference of Star Wars the Clone Wars canon (rescuing Domino to taking down Palps), with a similar set up to arc one. Fallen Not Forgotten, Risk vs Reward, Level Up, Shadow in the Dark, No Good Deed Goes Unpunished, and A Legacy in Question. 

But I know that even the shortening isn’t drastic enough. I feel only dread thinking about the series now, and that won’t do. So, though it kills me, Arc One will probably be the only arc that gets an official posting. Once Moving Back to Look Forward ends in 2030 (barring any major complications), that will be it for official full length postings of Adventures!AU. I’ll still post snippets and segments from arc two on Discord (like I do now occasionally), but MBtLF will end in a way that wraps everything up nicely. I’ll be sure to craft it so it can remain open ended to their adventures, but the current trajectory will see the “main” storyline with Shadow and the Batch, plus the Tintin sailors, close in arc one. 

That’s the long term goal. So what’s short term? 

Next year I plan to at least partially post Anachronism. That story has remained in the drafts for long enough. Yes, that means To the Far Reaches is backed up another year for posting (2026). That story has a lot of emotional moments, a lot of dealing with past trauma and relationship issues, and I just don’t have the spoons for that right now. For those intense moments, I have to crack myself open a bit and let my heart bleed onto the page. I’m not in a position to do that right now. Anachronism lacked that depth, being a bit more surface level than the stories with the Batchers. It’s got its own emotional moments, but it’s not nearly as taxing. Additionally, I’m going back through what was Off to a Great Start (now The Adventure Begins) and bringing it up to the standards I try to hold OtRaTtW and TtFR to. But I learned my lesson posting stories out of order so I’m going to get Anachronism finished so there’s no continuity issues. 

That brings me to my next point; Adventures!AU canon. 

I’ve already announced that the posted C,MtC and FNF are both non-canon and should not be taken as fact. You can still enjoy them (best you can with the crack-writing) but any continuity issues should be ignored as they are from an earlier draft of the Adventures!AU. Well, that decanonization treatment is extending beyond those two. The Adventure Begins, Over the River and Through the Woods, and To the Far Reaches aren’t non-canon per se, but rather some elements of the remastered versions may contradict the original postings. Going forward, the “truest” version will be those depicted in the works posted to Adventures!AU Remastered on Wattpad. The first story (The Adventure Begins) won’t drop there until at least November 2025 but you’re free to watch it in the meantime. It’ll sit dormant for quite a bit longer though. Nothing major will change in the stories, but I plan to add some extra scenes and tweak some minor details (the Batchers time in the galaxy is one big thing I’m looking at tweaking). 

Let’s see. checks notes Yep, I think that covers everything! At least for now lol. I always have stuff to say, but this will probably be the last long update post for quite some time. 

Thanks for hanging around, and for reading this long post lol.

[waterparksdrama]

waterparks blurbs from their fbr press release pack (2022)

BIO

For as much as Waterparks is a genre-busting collective of three friends who play music, hang out, and constantly flip the script, Waterparks really represents a bigger, dare we say, movement. The Houston trio— Awsten Knight, Otto Wood, and Geoff Wigington—have unassumingly brought vibrancy back to rock. (The only thing bolder than their melodies is whatever hair dye Awsten opted for this week!) Their strange magnetic pull has attracted a growing cohort of fans who pack sold out shows, stream their songs like crazy, and have even elevated them to multiple Billboard charts. 

However, the next era begins with the band’s fifth full-length and debut album for Fueled By Ramen, headlining the Sad Summer Festival, an arena tour with My Chemical Romance, and even more adventures…

“Waterparks is so much fucking bigger than Otto, Geoff, and me,” muses Awsten. “However, it wouldn’t be Waterparks without the fans at the shows. It wouldn’t be Waterparks without the presence online. It wouldn’t be Waterparks without this awesome community. There are so many people who are a big part of this. It has completely evolved from where it started, and it feels massive to me. I’m lucky enough to guide it.”

Waterparks might just be the biggest band of tomorrow. They reached unprecedented heights with 2021’s Greatest Hits. Don’t let that title fool you—it didn’t collect their best-performing songs at a discounted price, but it did showcase their best material to date. As such, it moved 15K units first-week, cracked the Billboard Top 200 and landed in the Top 10 of the Top Alternative Albums Chart and Top Rock Albums Chart. In the wake of its release, they impressively eclipsed half-a-billion streams thus far. Beyond acclaim from Rolling Stone, MTV, Kerrang!, and Alternative Press, they graced the cover of V Magazine and Upset Magazine (who also awarded the record a “five-out-of-five star” perfect score!). Perhaps, NME summed it up best though, “Instead of celebrating the past, ‘Greatest Hits’ is opening the door to what comes next.” Along the way, they sold out various headline tours. 2022 saw the band sign to Fueled By Ramen and turn the page on a new chapter.

“Whereas I saw Greatest Hits as a dark indoor album, I see this next body of work as a light outdoor album,” he reveals. “There’s a bright vibe with very high energy to it. So much of what we do is about how it’s going to be experienced by the community. We did a lot of programming on the last record. I wanted to get more tactile and touch shit now,” he laughs. “I needed to hold a guitar and have the strings vibrating on my fingers.”

That brings us to the first single “FUNERAL GREY.” Powered by four different guitars (including a toy guitar for the main riff), the track swings like a wrecking ball from a buoyant verse into a distortion-lifted hyper-hypnotic hook, “She wore a sweater in summer weather. She wore a sweater. It was FUNERAL GREY!”

“This is—and I fucking hate the term—more love-driven,” he confesses. “It’s a reintroduction, and it’s more about other people than just me. When I wrote the song, I was walking around my friend’s neighborhood. I was laughing, because it looked so haunted—like something out of an M. Night Shyamalan movie. I thought, ‘If this was an Instagram filter, it would be ‘Funeral Grey’.’ It’s got a dark title, but I love how bright it sounds. To me, that’s Waterparks.”

In the end, the new music is meant for the people comprising this greater movement—like everything Waterparks do.

“When you listen to us, I just want you to feel good,” Awsten leaves off. “It’s bouncy shit. Even if it’s aggressive, it’s enthusiastic. There’s a lot of energy behind this. I try to make music that tingles people’s fucking brains, which is what my favorite music does for me.”

BOILER

For as much as Waterparks is a genre-busting collective of three friends who play music, hang out, and constantly flip the script, Waterparks really represents a bigger, dare we say, movement. The Houston trio— Awsten Knight, Otto Wood, and Geoff Wigington—have unassumingly brought vibrancy back to rock. (The only thing bolder than their melodies is whatever hair dye Awsten opted for this week!)  Waterparks might just be the biggest band of tomorrow. They reached unprecedented heights with 2021’s Greatest Hits. Don’t let that title fool you—it didn’t collect their best-performing songs at a discounted price, but it did showcase their best material to date. As such, it moved 15K units first-week, cracked the Billboard Top 200 and landed in the Top 10 of the Top Alternative Albums Chart and Top Rock Albums Chart. In its wake, they impressively eclipsed half-a-billion streams thus far. Beyond acclaim from Rolling Stone, MTV, Kerrang!, and Alternative Press, they graced the cover of V Magazine and Upset Magazine (who also awarded the record a “five-out-of-five star” perfect score!). Perhaps, NME summed it up best though, “Instead of celebrating the past, ‘Greatest Hits’ is opening the door to what comes next.” Along the way, they sold out various headline tours. 2022 saw the band sign to Fueled By Ramen and turn the page on this next chapter kickstarted by the single “FUNERAL GREY.”

[animeniacss]

Seoksoo - imperfect Part 1 - Chapter 12 - Cramped, Nervous, and Desperate

Synopsis: Lee Seokmin likes a lot of things: karaoke, stuffed animals, his friends, his family (when they're not at each other's throats), and when things go according to plan. It's perfect that way. That is...until Joshua Hong, the Education Department TA, stumbles into his view one day and suddenly Seokmin has to start facing the fact that maybe not everything in life will be perfect...but with Joshua, that might just be ok.

Tags: College!AU, ActingMajor!Seokmin, Teacher!Joshua, Romance, Angst, Fluff, Mutual Pining, Misunderstandings, Side GyuCheol, Side JunHao, Side Verkwan, Other Idol appearances, Anxiety/Panic Attacks, Domestic Violence (not between the main couple), Joshua is a dork 90% of the time, (More Tags will be Added as needed)

Length: approx. 6.5k words

Chapter 12 - Cramped, Nervous, and Desperate

--- Three Years Prior -----

“I bet there will be tons of cool college parties.” Eunkyung grinned from behind her soup spoon. Seokmin leaned back in his seat, smirking a bit.

“When have you ever pictured me as a party animal?”

Eunkyung reached for more rice, setting it into her bowl. “I think you’ll find a whole new side of yourself at college, Oppa. You’ll come back at the end of the term a new person.”

“You’re going to waste your entire college career getting drunk at parties?” His mother chimed in, causing both of her children to look in their direction. Seokmin set his chopsticks down.

“Well, no, but Mingyu told me-.”

“Mingyu’s a good kid. He doesn’t strike me as the party type, and neither do you.”

“When I’m in college, I’m going to party all the time.” Eunkyung grinned, mouth full of rice. Their mother shot her a disapproving look for her talking with a mouth full of rice. She quickly swallowed it before adding: “What? Tell me you didn’t party in college.”

“I did. And that’s why I’m saying you two can’t.”

Eunkyung gasped. “That’s like, total hypocrisy, Mom.”

“No, it’s called wisdom. Eunkyung, you’re barely 15. You can’t go around talking about hypocrisy.”

“Do you even know how to spell it?” Seokmin grinned at his sister from across the table. Eunkyung scoffed.

“Very funny.” She gathered up her empty plates and brought them into the kitchen to begin washing the dishes. Seokmin took another bite of his meal as his mother turned to him once more.

“Don’t go to parties, okay, Seokmin? You never know what someone’s going to put in your drink or if someone’s going to get in a fight. Just don’t do it. If you want to have a party, have it at your apartment. I’ll even host one here for all your friends. Okay? That way I know you’re safe.”

         He studied her expression. The wrong words could lead to her getting upset. So, he simply nodded with a quick: “Okay, Mom. I’m not a party person, anyway.”

His reassurance comforted her with a gentle smile, and Seokmin felt secure again. “At least one of my kids will turn out alright.” She reached out, putting her hand on Seokmin’s arm. He smiled a bit, nodding his head. She stared at him with the same intensity he had burned into his brain for the past 18 years of his life.

⚔🦌⚔🦌⚔🦌⚔🦌⚔(im)perfect🦌⚔🦌⚔🦌⚔🦌⚔🦌

         Seokmin didn’t really like parties, especially on campus. He didn’t hate them, but he preferred to keep his distance. He didn’t hang out with the party crowd, and his friends only drank when they were in a safe and comfortable environment. A lot of students on campus came to party on the weekends, and with Study Week and finals creeping up on them within a month and a half, parties were being thrown all over campus, by every single group of people.

         Seokmin, however, loved Seungkwan. And Seungkwan asked him to come to the party being held by some of Hansol’s friends.

         “I won’t know anyone except for Hansol. What if he leaves me?”

         “Why would he leave you?” Seokmin looked down at his notebook, still full of small blips of ideas for his final monologue.

         “He wouldn’t, but what if we get separated?”

         “I’m sure that won’t happen.” Seungkwan wrapped his arms around Seokmin’s back, nuzzling into him.

         “Hyung, please! I’m begging you. Mingyu-Hyung and Seungcheol-Hyung will be off making out somewhere the entire night. I need someone to help me. Please.”

         With this plea buried into his chest, Seokmin was currently sitting on the floor of Joshua’s bedroom, staring at himself in the mirror as Nayeon brushed through his hair. Seungkwan and he had agreed to head to their apartment when they discovered – through Seungkwan’s very subtle sleuthing – that Nayeon and her friends were also invited. If Nayeon was invited, Jeonghan was too. And if Jeonghan was, then Joshua was tailing along somehow.

         Seokmin glanced up at Joshua as he sat on the edge of his bed. Even minutes before leaving for a party, he was working on something in his school textbook. His eyes darted between his book and his computer, hands flying away on the keys. In a pair of tight leather pants and a vibrant, marigold cut off, Joshua looked completely different than he usually did. His fluffy sweaters and professional slacks, or even his ripped jeans and mismatched combat boots were merely one side of him, it seemed.

         “Seokmin, are you excited?” Nayeon smiled down at him from their spot in front of the mirror. “This is your first party on campus, right?”

         “Oh, yeah.” He smiled up at Nayeon, and she only grinned wider. “Do you go to them a lot?”

         “Yeah. My friend Jeongyeon and I love going to the parties when we can.”

         “It’s only because you can get a good story if someone throws up.” Jeonghan smirked, resting against the door frame.

         “I would never post an article about someone at a party.” Nayeon gasped, offense written on her face. Seokmin’s eyes darted up to a grinning Jeonghan.

         “But you’d never forget it happened, either.” He said. Nayeon nodded her head, glad he understood her true intentions before turning her attention to Joshua.

         “Could you stop working for five minutes and finish getting ready?” Joshua’s eyes shot up from his screen, and Seokmin instinctively looked down at his lap.

         “Well, I wouldn’t have to be if you guys didn’t force me to go to this party.”

         “We didn’t force you to do anything.” Jeonghan said. “Your boyfriend asked.” Seokmin looked up at Jeonghan, who had a finger pointed directly at him. “We simply agreed you should come and encouraged it.”

         Seokmin closed his eyes, trying to focus on the feeling of the brush Nayeon was tugging through his hair. He could hear Seungkwan beside them, putting on eye glitter that Nayeon offered to him.

         “Seokmin-Hyung, you should put some of this on.” He said, handing off the glitter. “Don’t you think it brings out my eyes?”

         “Hansol won’t be able to stop looking at you.” Nayeon grinned, earning a content hum from a very eager Seungkwan. She pulled the brush back, and Seokmin’s eyes followed her as she exited the room. “I need to finish getting my make-up on. Then, we’ll be ready.” Jeonghan waved her off as she disappeared into the bathroom.

         “You don’t have to come if you don’t want to, Joshua-Hyung.” He peered up at Joshua from his spot on the floor. Joshua looked down, his hair falling over his eyes a bit from the angle.

         “Nah.” His face softened. “It’s fine. I should probably get some air in my lungs.”

         “It’s been days since you did anything after school and tutoring.” Jeonghan said. “Seriously.” Seokmin looked up at Joshua again as he closed up his computer and book, setting them on the side of his bed. Swinging his legs over the side, he looked down at Seokmin and smiled reassuringly. 

“I can stay for a bit.”

         “Okay.” Seokmin was kind of hoping Joshua remained adamant about staying home, if only so he could stay with him instead of going. However, when Nayeon popped her head back in, face full of beautiful make-up, Seokmin knew there was no going back.

         “We need to take a picture.” She said quickly. She immediately pointed her camera at herself and Jeonghan, grinning while Jeonghan flashed a little peace sign behind her head. Seungkwan was next, and he pulled Seokmin into the shot. Seokmin immediately smiles a bit, putting a heart on his cheek like his favorite idols in shows do. Seungkwan offered a peace sign and Nayeon puckered her lips. “Cute!” She gasped. “Joshua, c’mon.”

         “Ahh, come on.” He sighed. Nayeon rolled her eyes, simply pulling him over as the group bunched together for a group shot. Nayeon stretched the camera out as far as she could. “Get in, get in.” When Joshua leaned forward, his chest pressed against Seokmin’s shoulder. He knew his cheeks would be red in the photo, but he simply put a peace sign up beside Seungkwan’s and the photo was snapped.

⚔🦌⚔🦌⚔🦌⚔🦌⚔(im)perfect🦌⚔🦌⚔🦌⚔🦌⚔🦌

         “Aahhh, I’m nervous.” Seungkwan whined, shaking his head to hopefully stir up any of the confidence hiding in his body.

         “Why? You and Hansol seem to be getting along great.” Seokmin said. “Do you not think so?”

         “I mean, we do; we’ve talked in class a bunch and gotten coffee or studied in the library together. I think we’ve become pretty good friends.” Seungkwan saw the house coming into view, and he gripped Seokmin’s arm tighter. “But this is much more intimate. Close quarters, low lights, drinking.”

         “Will someone call the cops on the place?” Seokmin peered up at the building. They had been walking from their parking space a few blocks away, and Seokmin could already feel his legs getting heavy. He took a deep breath. “I’m sure most people here aren’t even old enough to drink.”

         Jeonghan spun his keys in his hand, whistling. “Don’t worry about that, Seokmin.” He draped his arm around Nayeon, as she was on the phone in hopes of finding her friends scattered through the party. She seemed to catch one waiting outside, and her hand flew up in excitement to flag them down. “And that’s my cue, guys.” Jeonghan called as he got tugged ahead. Joshua snorted when Jeonghan was heard begging his girlfriend to slow down just a bit.

         “Alright, Seungkwan, let’s get your man.” Joshua patted the younger male’s shoulder in support. He stood between the duo, leading them into the party doors.

         The second Seokmin stepped inside, he felt his chest tighten. The music pumping through the house felt like it was squeezing Seokmin. He took a deep breath, but it hurt, so he exhaled. The walls were lined with college students, some already drunk and grinding on the person closest to them. Seokmin watched a couple run up the stairs, hand in hand. He caught a glint in the girl’s eyes at the thought of what was about to happen. He turned to Joshua, who was pointing straight ahead. Following his gaze, Hansol was at the end of the hall. He had a drink against his lips and was chatting with another, slightly taller male. He was fixing a set of glasses, hand in his short black hair as he smiled at Hansol. Whatever they were talking about, they looked very interested in one another. Even amongst the chest crushing music and musty smell, Seokmin saw Seungkwan’s lips dip into a large frown.

         “Woah. What’s with that face?” Seokmin asked. He pressed closer to Joshua’s side, the taller one placing his hand on the small of Seokmin’s back to steady him.

         “Jeon Wonwoo.” He scoffed. “He’s a junior in the Computer Sciences Department.” Seungkwan groaned. “He’s so cool. I heard he’s like, totally famous on Twitch.”

         “You’re kidding.” Joshua’s eyes widened. He glanced down at Seokmin, who only shrugged.

         “Yeah. Hansol mentioned him a few times. What do I do?!”

         “Go talk to him anyway.” Seokmin said. “Didn’t he invite you?”

         “Well, yeah, but-.”

         “All I can say is Nayeon will be pissed that you used her eye glitter and didn’t at least go make a move.” Seungkwan sighed, nodding his head.

         “You’re right.” Seungkwan nodded his head. “I have to go and make myself known.”

         “Fighting, Kwannie!” Seokmin pumping his fists in excitement, Joshua following the motion beside him. Seungkwan shuffled through the crowds, and the older duo watched as he caught Hansol’s attention.

         “Look how he’s looking at Seungkwan.” Joshua said, motioning to the wide-eyed look Hansol gave their friend. Seokmin took a second to scan over Joshua one more time. He was close enough to see the veins in Joshua’s arms poking out since it was so cold, yet Joshua didn’t leave the house with a jacket. “He’s so smitten.”

         “Yeah.” Seokmin said. He pressed a hand to Joshua’s arm, finally capturing his attention. “Aren’t you cold in a tank top? It’s November.”

         Joshua shrugged. “It’s not that bad.” Seokmin turned his attention to Seungkwan once again, who was eyeing Wonwoo up and down as they talked with a very seemingly oblivious Hansol.

         “He has no idea Seungkwan’s plotting Wonwoo’s death right now, does he?” Seokmin asked. Joshua cackling, nodding his head.

         “No fucking clue.” Joshua put his hand on his hip. “Why don’t we go in and get something to drink?” Seokmin looked around the room once more, before nodding his head. Hand still pressed to the small of Seokmin’s back, they headed further into the party. Seokmin made sure to tap Seungkwan’s shoulder and motion where they were headed. Seungkwan was already looking at Hansol with hearts in his eyes and Seokmin wondered if any words even registered in his brain.

         Joshua grabbed them a few drinks from one of the many coolers scattered through the house for easy access. He motioned a beer to Seokmin, who shook his head.

         “I don’t drink.” He shouted over the loud music.

         “Oh, shit. Sorry.” Joshua knelt back down, replacing the beer bottle for a water bottle. He set his own bottle on the counter beside them, snapping the plastic cap open and passing it to Seokmin. He took the bottle with a smile.

         “Thanks.” He called, putting the drink to his lips. Joshua did the same when he got his own open. Seokmin looked around at the sea of drunk and possibly horny college students. He wondered if Eunkyung attended parties like this. Their mother would blow a gasket if she was. Seokmin wondered how she would react if she found out Seokmin was at a party, even if he was drinking water instead of alcohol and pressed up against someone that he cared for rather than some random person he had just met in a drunk daze. “I’m not a big party person.”

         “Me either.” Joshua said against the top of the bottle. “But it’s nice to get out and do it sometimes.” Seokmin nodded, eyes falling to a couple grinding on one another to the music, only a few feet away. Their arms were wrapped around one another, hips swaying to the beat that was pounding in his ears. He turned away when they began making out. He felt Joshua pull him closer to his side, offering a smile. Even under the dim lights, Joshua looked perfect. Seokmin really wanted to kiss him, but the setting of his first kiss with this guy being at a crowded party? No. “You look overwhelmed.” Joshua asked, leaning forward a bit. His voice practically brushed Seokmin’s ear, shivering despite being packed in a hot room. “Are you okay?”

         “Yeah.” Seokmin turned to him a bit. When he did his eyes immediately fell on how close their lips were. Something in Seokmin’s chest stopped. He studied Joshua’s lips for a minute. It felt as if the rest of the party had stopped, waiting at a standstill for something to happen between these two.

         He really wanted to kiss Joshua.

         The hand on Seokmin’s waist tightened a bit, making his breath catch in his throat. Hoping to avoid whatever gaze Joshua was looking at him with, Seokmin’s eyes dipped down to the necklace adoring his collarbones. Even in this stunning outfit, little plastic beads poking out from underneath. His finger reached up, wrapping around the beads gently. He rubbed a thumb along one of the clear beads laid right in the center.

         “Is this new?” Despite Seokmin’s voice rising to be heard over the music, it was still delicate and trembling. Joshua took a second to process the question, finally nodding his head.

         “I couldn’t sleep last night.” He said.

         Seokmin felt his body press closer to Joshua when a couple staggered past, not even turning to utter a half-ass apology. Seokmin gulped. Each beat of the music felt as if it were crushing him into a smaller ball. He wanted to simply curl up and escape from here. But his only option was to press closer to Joshua, who was happy to oblige, bringing him closer into his circle. Seokmin felt a burning sensation in his throat. Gripping the little plastic beads as if they were the last string keeping him from falling into an endless abyss, Seokmin knew he needed to say something else to distract himself.

         “You don’t sleep a lot.” Smooth.

         Joshua’s nose crinkled, nodding his head. “I’ll sleep when I’m dead, I guess.”

         “You’ll get sick if you say that, you know.”

         “It’s not that I don’t want to, I just can’t.” He leaned closer, breath tickling Seokmin’s ear like the kiss of an angel. “Thanks for worrying about me, but this isn’t really ‘dance party’ conversation, you know.”

         “I-.” Seokmin shivered. “I don’t really know much, ‘dance party conversation’.” His eyes flickered up to Joshua’s as he took another sip of his drink. Even when he wasn’t looking at Seokmin, his eyes sent shivers down his spine. He felt like he’d turn to mush at any second, forming into a puddle at Joshua’s feet. His neck craned to the large dance floor where most had congregated. Immediately, his eyes locked on Mingyu. He had arrived with Seungcheol early on in the night, both being friends with the host. Seokmin saw his shoulder-length, black hair bouncing under the colored lights with Seungcheol, head back and laughter that was drowned out by the music. He looked happy, they looked happy. No worries in the back of their mind, just enjoying the night together, in one another’s arms, like it was the only place they wanted to be.

         The worst things happen at college parties. You never know who will be there, or what they’ll try to do.

         “Do you want to dance?” Seokmin turned to see Joshua as he set down his beer bottle. Seokmin immediately noticed barely two sips were taken from it. “You’re staring at the dance floor so intensely.”

         “There’s…” Seokmin paused. “I just saw a friend in the crowd. There’s a lot of people.” Joshua nodded. 

         The duo watched the party go on around them. Seokmin tried to focus on the silence that settled between them, hoping even a little drop of it would calm his nerves. He felt he should be on the dance floor, hips pressed up against Joshua because that was expected. There must be someone who has seen the both of them just standing there, wondering why the hell they were even at the party to begin with if they didn’t intend to enjoy it.

         Joshua must be having a miserable time, just standing in one spot.

“Uhm-.” Seokmin’s voice turned the older male’s attention back to him. “If you want to, then-.”

         “No, it’s okay.” Joshua’s hips pressed against the counter top, elbow resting on the marble surface as he scanned the crowd. “I’m fine right here.” His fingers tightened on Seokmin’s back one final time, closing all the space between them. Seokmin felt his knee press against Joshua’s thigh. “Besides, my dancing skills could put all of these guys to shame. I’m doing them a favor.”

         Finally, Seokmin offered a laugh that blended with the beat. “Oh, I see.”

         “Yeah. I could wipe the entire dance floor with my one signature move.”

         “I kind of want to see it.” Seokmin admitted. Joshua shook his head.

         “It’s way too much. It might melt your brain from all of its amazingness.” Seokmin’s laughter continued, covering his mouth as his head fell forward, pressing against Joshua’s chest. Almost immediately as it did, his head shot up right, cheeks tinted red. Amused by the reaction, Joshua leaned closer. “Hm? You okay?”

         “Fine. I’m fine.” Seokmin squeaked. Joshua nodded, smiling in a way that made Seokmin feel like he was caught in a lie.

         I really want to kiss him, this is insanity. How on earth do I go about doing that? What do I do? What. Do. I. Do?!

         Joshua tongue ran along the inside of his bottom lip, Seokmin catching the entire thing since he couldn’t peel his eyes away from that part of his perfect face.

         Is that his sign he wants to kiss me? I can’t tell. What if I go for it and make a fool of myself? I’ll never live it down. I’ll never live it down.

         “Seokmin.” Joshua breathed.

         Do I even want my first kiss with him to be at some party? What will that make me? Will he think I want to do other stuff? Don’t you do other stuff at a party?

         “Seokmin.” His voice was a bit firmer.

         “Hm?” Seokmin could barely feel the sound leave his lips.

         “You’re squeezing my necklace like it owes you money.” Seokmin’s eyes finally steadied, dropping from Joshua’s lips to the vice grip he had on the plastic beads. They were lifted off his neck from the force of his grip.

         His grip loosened completely, allowing the jewelry to fall back against Joshua’s skin. “Sorry…” Joshua only shrugged.

         Unsure if it was a blessing or a curse, the second a new voice flooded their space, Seokmin’s shoulders immediately dropped. He and Joshua turned to see Seungkwan and Hansol approaching, down one Wonwoo and up one arm around Seungkwan’s shoulder. Seokmin was about to say something, but Seungkwan beat him to it.

         “Are we interrupting something?” Seungkwan asked, eyeing the lack of space between the two.

         Joshua glanced down at Seokmin for a second, before replying. “Not at all. Is this Hansol?”

         Seokmin watched as the two immediately fell into proper greetings. Once Joshua said his full name, Hansol’s eyes lit up.

         “Shit, where are you from?”

         “LA. You?”

         “New York.”

         “I’ve been there a few times.”

         Seokmin couldn’t understand what they were saying. However, even if they were speaking in Korean, he knew he’d still have no idea. His head held the entire ocean, waves crashing into his skull and making him feel all kinds of motion sickness. He couldn’t steady his eyes anymore. The uncertainty made his breath hitch.

         A hand squeezed his, and when he looked up, he saw Seungkwan. His eyes fell to the shorter of the two and the curious glint in his eyes. It was a look that made Seokmin’s stomach knot up in ways he didn’t know were possible.

         “I’m stealing him.” Seungkwan called to the others. Joshua offered Seokmin one smile, before turning back to chat with Hansol about something. He heard the word ‘America’ and ‘teaching’, both words he had heard Joshua use in English before.

         Seungkwan nestled the both of them in a corner, right beside the sliding door that led outside. Seokmin leaned against it, eyes glazed over as he looked down at Seungkwan.

         “I saw the two of you getting hot and heavy.” Seungkwan grinned. “I was going to give you both space, but Hansol wanted to meet Joshua-Hyung, and-.” Seokmin listened as Seungkwan began rambling about his interaction with Wonwoo and Hansol. It was all he could do: listen. Words were not forming in his brain much less his mouth.

         You shouldn’t be at a party, Lee Seokmin.

         At least one of my kids was supposed to turn out okay.

         Seokmin covered his mouth as his mother’s voice coursed through his brain. It was imaginary, but it felt so clear, as if she were standing right beside him. His mind felt light, yet heavy. Any moment he would fall over and shatter all over the floor of this stranger’s home.

         You went to a party and didn’t even sleep with him? Lame, Oppa.

Then, Seokmin’s mind spoke up; his own thoughts torturing him relentlessly rather than the assumed thoughts of his family.

If they find out I went to a party at least they’ll make up long enough to gang up on me next….

         “I’m going to throw up.” Seokmin choked behind his hand. Seungkwan’s mouth closed almost immediately when he felt his bicep get gripped.

         “Did you drink that much already? I didn’t expect you to be-.”

         “Seungkwan, I’m going to throw up.” He choked out again, voice shaky and desperate. His grip on Seungkwan’s bicep tightened. “I can’t breathe, I-.”

         His friend’s eyes widened. “Okay. Okay, okay.” Seungkwan grabbed the handle of the sliding door and pulled it open, hitting the duo with a huge gust of wind that almost made Seokmin fall over. “Hyung?” He called, turning his head to the duo still chatting by the kitchen counter. Seokmin only caught Joshua’s gaze for a second before stepping outside. He immediately knelt down in the grass. Everything around him was static; the voices, the footsteps, the chatter. Nothing settled in his ears as he coughed into his hands. His stomach refused to throw up like he had thought, leaving him violently coughing into his hand to get whatever was burning in the pit of his stomach to go away. Every few seconds he gasped for air, but the huge intake of it only left him coughing more.

When he finally managed to stop himself from coughing so much, a shaky hand pressed against his mouth, thumbing away whatever tears were streaming down his cheeks when they fell onto his skin. Seokmin looked up at the night sky overhead, hand tangled in his hair. He wanted to focus on the stars; connect summer constellations in fall because that felt so much easier than this. His throat burned something so intense he thought it would leave a hole in his throat. He tried to swallow it down, but the lack of air only resulted in another round of frantic coughs.

Tired from holding his head up, it fell onto his knees, forehead digging into the bones. The world was still shaking, static buzzing in his ears no matter how many deep breaths he took or how tightly he gripped the base of his hair. He felt as if time was at a standstill and the play button was jammed. No matter how hard he pressed it, slammed the recording device, or reset the machine, he was stuck here forever.

         “Seokmin.” His name being called made him look up to see Joshua staring down at him. A hand was outstretched to him, and he was smiling. Seokmin sniffled, wiping his eyes one more time in hopes the tears would stop falling for good. He reached out and took Joshua’s hand, allowing him to get back on his feet. Steadying himself up right made his head pound, and he let out a deep breath. “I’ll take you home, okay?” Seokmin was silent for a minute. When Joshua offered a little smile, Seokmin felt the play button finally snap back into place. The static slowly became a dull ringing in the back of his ears as it faded from his brain all together. Seokmin nodded, eyes casting to the floor as he squeezed Joshua’s hand tighter.

         “Okay.” He said.

“Hyung...” Seokmin looked over just as Seungkwan came to his side. His glitter was a bit messy, eyes glassy from what looked to be his own set of worried tears brushed away by his hand. Hansol was on the other side of him, handing Seokmin the water he had left by them in the kitchen. Seokmin took it with a barely audible thank you, pressing it to his lips. “What happened?”

         Seokmin shook his head. “I’m okay.” He said softly. “Don’t worry about me.”    

         “Want me to come home with you too? So you’re not alone?”

         “No, you wanted to come. Have a good time. I’ll probably just….” He coughed into his hand. “Go to sleep.” Seungkwan looked over at Joshua sadly, rubbing his arms as the chilly fall air began picking up.

         “Don’t worry, I got it.” Joshua assured. He peered to the side of the house. “Come on, let’s use the side gate so we don’t have to go back inside.”

         Seokmin couldn’t even nod in response, quietly following Joshua out of the house without so much as another glance to Seungkwan and Hansol. He felt as if he was in a trance, the play button just going on a continuous loop with no stop in sight.

⚔🦌⚔🦌⚔🦌⚔🦌⚔(im)perfect🦌⚔🦌⚔🦌⚔🦌⚔🦌

         The ride back home was silent. Seokmin didn’t even have the energy to question if Joshua should be driving after drinking half a beer. His head was lolled against the window, looking at the blur of the world passing him by. The music was playing softly, but Seokmin barely had a voice to hum any of the beats.

         By the time they got back to the apartments, Seokmin was unsure how many times he dozed in and out of consciousness, each time his eyes startled awake being a painful reminder that he was in fact still in the same day. There was no fast forward button on the machine in his head, and it almost made him want to cry again.

         Joshua led him up to the apartment without a word, only a quiet hand on Seokmin’s back to guide him. Seokmin could barely handle the touch, but had little strength to prevent it. Using Seungkwan’s spare key – which Seungkwan hid flawlessly in a very cute flower pot outside their door – the duo stepped back into the apartment. Seokmin didn’t realize he was holding his breath until he gasped for air in the front entrance, chest tightening as he looked around.

         “Want a water?” Hearing Joshua’s voice almost scared Seokmin back to reality. Almost. Just enough to remember that they were in his apartment.

         “I’ll get-.” Seokmin was cut off by Joshua, who shook his head.

         “No. You’ll sit.” He motioned to the couch. He headed to the fridge to find some drinks, and Seokmin could only nod.

         “Okay…” he said. Barely kicking off his shoes and shuffling them side by side, he made his way to the couch and sank into it. He hoped with enough force he would be enveloped by it and leave his plane of existence forever. He still could barely breathe, his heart feeling as if it were being gripped in someone’s fist.

         “Here.” Joshua made his way back with a glass of water for the both of them. Seokmin took his with a nod and sipped it. “I would’ve offered tea but, I don’t know where your tea stuff is.”

         Seokmin almost choked on his drink. “Sorry.”

         “Don’t be.”

         Seokmin looked over at Joshua as he sipped his own drink, kicking one leather-clad leg over the other as he got himself comfortable. “You don’t-.” Seokmin hesitated. “You don’t have to stay here if you don’t want to.”

         “Nonsense.” Joshua shook his head. “I’ll stay for a bit. Do you really strike me as the type to drop you off and bail?”

         Seokmin shook his head. “No.” Another sip of water down his throat. The burning sensation and its aftermath still tore apart his esophagus with each sip that he swallowed.

         The duo sat in silence for a while, Joshua unsure of what to say and Seokmin unable to say much of anything at all. He set his water on the coffee table, leaning back on his couch and closing his eyes. A deep exhale shook his body. “Are you feeling better now that we left?”

         “A little…” Seokmin turned his head to look at him.

         “You really don’t like parties, hm?” Joshua smiled.

         Seokmin’s lips curled up in a small smile. “No, I don’t. My mom told me I shouldn’t go to college parties.”

         “Why?”

         “She told me that it’s dangerous because you don’t know who is there. You don’t know if the punch has been laced with something or if the cute guy you’re talking to put something in your drink when he went to grab it.”

         Joshua nodded. “I didn’t do that last part.”

         “I know.”

         “Laxatives in the punch would have been funny, though.” Seokmin chuckled a bit, watching as Joshua downed the rest of his water and set his own empty glass on the table.

         “My mom will kill me when she finds out I went to one. I told her I wouldn’t.”

         “Will she find out?”

         “I’ll tell her when I talk to her, probably.”

         “....Does she have to know?”

         Seokmin looked at Joshua. “I tell my mom everything.”

         A pause from Joshua, arms crossed and visible confusion on his face. “Even if you’ll get in trouble?”

         Seokmin didn’t know how to answer that. He sat up straight, pressing his lips together tightly in thought. “Sorry.” Joshua chimed in. “It’s not my place to assume things about your family life.”

         “No, I…It’s okay.” He looked down at his lap. His hands were red from the cold air that enveloped them on the entire walk to and from the car that chilly night. He pressed them together to see if they’d stick together, but no such luck as they pulled apart with a little pop. Suddenly, the couch shifted, and when Seokmin looked over, Joshua was sitting beside him.

         “You have something in your hair.” He said. “May I?” Seokmin nodded, eyes trailing up as Joshua’s hand tangled in his locks. For the few seconds Joshua’s hand found a home in his hair, he closed his eyes. Joshua’s finger plucked whatever he saw, scratching his scalp. Fingers dragged along the locks and Seokmin felt nice. For the first time all night. Finally, he was able to take a breath that didn’t make it feel as if he had swallowed a broken glass cup. His hands had stopped shaking and his body felt tingly; but in a good way.

         He pulled out a few pieces of fuzz, flicking them away and smiling. “There.” Seokmin’s eyes opened again. When he turned to Joshua with the intention to say thank you, something else slipped from his lips.

         “Can you do that again?”

         Joshua cocked an eyebrow. “Get fuzz out of your hair?”

         His cheeks heated up. “No.” Seokmin avoided his gaze, tilting his head to the side, scalp directed at Joshua. “That was…very relaxing, so.” No response from Joshua, and when Seokmin looked back up, Joshua was grinning. “What? You don’t have to, but-.”

         “I will.” He said. Shifting back on the couch, he leaned forward and pointed to the little spot in front of him, right between his legs. “Come here.”

         “Sorry, what?”

         “C’mere.” He motioned to the spot once again. Reluctant yet desperate for that tingling sensation, Seokmin plopped down on the floor in front of Joshua. It took a few seconds, Seokmin craning his neck when Joshua dramatically cracked his knuckles. However, within seconds, Joshua’s hands began threading through his hair and Seokmin took another deep breath. It felt as if he swallowed the entirety of heaven in one breath, head tilting back just a bit. “I guess that’s relaxing?”

         “Very.” Seokmin closed his eyes. Joshua’s fingers danced along his hair, and Seokmin felt he could do anything in that moment. However, out of all the things he could do, he wanted to sit here with Joshua forever. He wanted to feel these soft, gentle fingers gliding through his scalp with no pattern in mind, simply moving through the locks and scratching any parts that had gone untouched. Seokmin felt warmer than he had on any summer day at this moment, leaning into Joshua’s touch.

         “Hyung.” Seokmin muttered, a hum from above him making his eyes finally open. “I’m sorry I ruined tonight.”

         “You didn’t. I’m sorry you got so overwhelmed.” A scratch on the nape of Seokmin’s neck; he shivered.

         Seokmin took the silence to think back to Joshua’s question from before. Even if you know you’ll get in trouble? “My mom and my sister are having this really big fight right now.” For a second, Joshua’s hands stopped in his hair, tangled among the locks and Seokmin wondered if he said too much. However, gentle fingers resumed before he replied.

         “About what?”

         “Everything. My sister says my mother is controlling, but my mom says my sister doesn’t respect her.” Seokmin pulled a knee to his chest. “My sister came home late the other night and they got into a huge blow out with each other. She’s been staying at a friends and my mom has been trying to figure out where she is.”

         “Did you tell her?” Seokmin shook his head.

         “Only that she’s at a friend’s house. Not who. Eunkyung keeps saying how she wants to stop talking to our mom, how she’s basically being forced out of the house. Which my mom isn’t trying to do. But in the same vein, my mom never knows how to handle problems. She screams and yells, then Eunkyung screams and yells, and-.”

         “You get stuck in the middle.” Seokmin’s eyes casted to the floor. “Seokmin, I’m sorry. That must be so hard.”

         “I know they fight because they’re the same person, you know. Stubborn, prideful. They carry a lot of baggage from tons of different things. But they both carry so much love, and I know they both only mean well. I don’t know what to do this time. I can usually get them to calm down after a few days but Eunkyung won’t even text my mom.”

         Joshua was quiet for a minute, but his hands kept working in Seokmin’s hair.

         “I don’t know what you should do.” Joshua finally sighed. “Or, what you even can do. It sounds like their problem…”

         Seokmin’s neck craned up to look at Joshua, and felt his eyes glaze over with tears again. Joshua looked down, a hand immediately leaving his hair and wiping Seokmin’s eyes.

         “But what if Eunkyung doesn’t come back home?” He heard his voice crack. “I don’t know what I’d do.”

         “That won’t happen.” Joshua assured. “They just need time to calm down. I’m sure they’ll come to common ground soon.” Seokmin straightened his head once again, Joshua continuing to work his fingers into the locks. “Don’t worry about that now, okay?”

         “Okay…”

         “Focus on my brilliant massaging skills, instead. Melt into my touch.” Seokmin laughed a bit, a toothy-grin forming on his face that he couldn’t bite back if he tried.

         “Add it to your resume of random skills, Shua-Hyung.” He said softly. Joshua laughed a bit.

         “I will.” He said. As the apartment fell into silence once more, Seokmin closed his eyes and simply enjoyed the feeling of Joshua’s hands in his hair. He knew the tingles that it sent down his spine, and the warmth that bloomed in his chest wouldn’t last forever. Hell, it wouldn’t even last through the night. However, the longer the clock hands ticked away, Seokmin couldn’t help but think about how badly he still wanted to turn and kiss Joshua. How badly he wanted to melt into his touch and thank him for everything he had no obligation to do.         Seokmin, for the next ten minutes, had no intention of using the stop button. If this one tender moment had to come to an end at some point, that didn’t mean all of this – all of Joshua – had too as well. 

Return to K-Pop Masterlist

Previous / Next

[domini-porter]

It's very hard not to ask twelve questions, but I'll restrain myself...

CMYK: What inspired you to write the fic this way? (You can take this to mean the ending, the character dynamics, whatever)

Diaphananthe hedoniana: What do you like best about this fic?

Hi hello thank youuuuu!

As for CMYK, that started as most things do (for me, at least) with a single image, which was Jane seeing Page 67 and having a super-awkward reflexive reaction in front of Maura, which I thought was both funny and mean, but if anyone needs someone to be mean back, it’s our Jane.

More broadly, the setting and plot emerged from that one image—that it would be some murdered artist (which makes Jane uncomfortable and defensive to begin with), who worked in erotic art (double discomfort/defensiveness, also I’m a fan of both high camp and highbrow erotic art, so, write what you know)(I painted a full-length Tom of Finland beefcake on a door in my apartment. one of the main ones). Also it let me bring in Constance, a classic example of a character that started out okay, got questionable, and then disappeared, with massive emotional consequences that were never addressed.

So. That’s the how! I’m adjacent to the art world (not in a Constance Isles way) and it’s such a wild assortment of people, so it was really entertaining for me, personally (I strongly believe you should entertain yourself first). The rest—plot, etc—evolved sort of organically, like it almost always does. Which brings me to the end, which people have been mixed on, for the most part.

The ambiguous/bummer/more realistic ending is sort of because I hadn’t actually determined the sequence of events for the murder, or exactly how all the players were involved (it’s a very high-wire sort of writing process, particularly when I haven’t written ahead before posting a chapter). And at first I worried what I ended up going with would feel like a cop-out, or cheap storytelling, or ruining the whole thing—which are ways people have described it—but I realized that either of the possible Shiny Bow endings I’d been tossing around felt even cheaper, like, I’d just done 80k words in a very grounded, consequence-rich universe, and the natural conclusion is that (LIGHT SPOILER) you don’t always get what you want just because you’re right. To have them march in and smugly call out the Big Bad would have been the cop-out, for me (so to speak).

Once I decided how it would all shake out, it was super-important to work with the tone, and the placement of narrative clues, so that it didn’t come out of nowhere, but did happen unexpectedly for the characters and the reader. Because it do be like that sometimes. And I get why people find it unsatisfying or disappointing, and honestly, I kinda hope they do. Because it is unsatisfying, and it is disappointing, but it’s not unearned. (I still obsess over those comments, tho, don’t worry)

I dunno if this is what you meant at all. I hope it is! A few other bits of minutiae, just in case: I hadn’t done any big writing (of anything) for years and years prior to CMYK, and a lot of what I’d done before was some flavor of AU, so the contemporary setting felt novel to me, just like the post-apocalypse or the Gilded Age. I started from Jane’s perspective because it was more easily accessible after such a long disconnect from the material (whole other topic), and stayed with it instead of alternating both as a way to not have to get inside Maura’s head, and to set myself a challenge to write from a single perspective, which is way less convenient than just following other characters for a while. Constance Isles is possibly my favorite minor character (sorry Giovanni), mostly because of her potential, and because of Jacqueline Bisset (watch La Cérémonie as soon as you possibly can). I started a sequel and then I got stuck on it (turns out I’m not nearly as interested in biotech as I am the art world); I will force myself to finish it someday, this I pledge to you all.

As for Diaphananthe hedoniana: the thing I personally like best, that is truly just for me, is the writing, as unhelpful as that sounds. I really set out to do elevated crack (psychoactive sex pollen) as sincerely and with as much craft as possible; it was mostly meant as an exercise in literary smut (not erotica. smut.) but the longer I sat with it the more uncomfortable I got with the basic concept, and since I’d once again tried to ground the fantastical in reality, my trusty ol’ ethical buzzkill started going on and on about trauma and consent. And since I’d gone into it attempting to personal best my prose, I had to keep doing that even though it took a hard turn.

All this is to say: I’m pretty proud of it, just from a craft standpoint; I really leaned into my tendency toward lyrical maximalism, which I usually don’t let myself do. I’m also p proud of the dialogue, particularly the scene with both Angela and Frankie; not just the way it hits the ear or the family dynamics, but the pacing of the scenes, especially being able to write (a tiny bit of) slapstick, which is both hard and exhilarating, particularly in a story as emotionally extreme as that one.

And I did PB my prose, I think. Def PB’d the smut, which I’m also not unhappy about. 

Thank you again for enquiring! And, even more, for kicking off this round of Everybody Loves Us Tonite, one of my favorite parts of this hell site; I'm so proud of this tiny little fandom and all of its flame-carriers <3