#if anything it would be self absorbed to assume the song was about himself??

[catradoraism]

when edvin said wille was selfish this season and he couldn’t defend his actions i was expecting wille to do a lot worse??? there’s literally nothing he did this season that i wouldn’t call unjustifiable or selfish

[too-many-regular-show-aus-help]

Ok. So. Digital Circus AU characters!!!!!!

Benson: The main character!!!!! He can't remember anything but his name, though he does know a few of the others to be oddly familiar. He tries to bark orders at everyone, but he is completely powerless against everyone, and they laugh at him for being nothing but an angry little piss baby

Summertime Lovin' (Nicknamed Summertime): Most chill out of the group, but still completely unhinged. He's almost always balancing on a beach ball, and also moves by rolling it around (Think Marx from Kirby). He likes music!! Especially the song he's named after!! He can now talk in the Digital Circus and sounds exactly like the singer of his song, and the voice sounds as if it's coming from a cassette tape. Whenever he speaks, a speaker icon (like this 🔊) appears floating over his head

The Hammer: He's the grumpiest of the performers. He's also the strongest. He very much dislikes everyone and tries to stay out of activities as much as possible, but usually ends up getting roped in any way, much to his dismay. Like Summertime, he was also given the ability to speak, and his voice sounds like it's from an old videogame, like from a Genesis

Park Avenue: Out of all the performers, he's the most disliked. In fact, "disliked" is probably an understatement. He's quite self-absorbed and believes himself to be the leader of the group, though like Benson, he doesn't have any power over anyone. That won't stop him from thinking he's better than the others, though. He's also just a douchebag to everyone for no reason

Owl Guy: Nobody knows his real name, so they all call him "Owl Guy". He's the second most disliked, though unlike Park, who has that superiority complex going on, he's more of a simple egotistical douche than a full-on self obsessed narcissist (Ignore how bad this and the next drawing looks I was really tired)

Unnamed Ringmaster AI (and Cera The Friend): AIs that have gone rouge and are in charge of the Digital Circus. Not much is known about the Ringmaster, but she doesn't seem malicious, just completely oblivious to the suffering of others. Her little buddy, Cera The Friend is her extremely unhinged assistant who would probably be locked up in a box for what we could only assume to be multiple war crimes if she wasn't an AI in (What might be????) a game

Anyway I still need one more character to be a performer but I'm figuring that out. May be a non-antagonist minor character to be "The Nice One™" of the performers. But yeah these are the characters right now!!

[flickeringart]

The Saturn function

- it can make you or break you

Most people would agree that there’s a definite need for control and discipline within a society. Without the drive and motivation to take responsibility and exercise control there’s not much that would run smoothly - people wouldn’t have a sense of duty and concern for the integrity of the outer structures of their lives or of other people’s lives for that matter. However, the mechanism of control is a curious one, because it stems from an inner sense of caution or fear. ”What if I don’t do this and everything falls apart?” is the constant nagging going on in the back of one’s mind. ”I have to stick to my commitments, otherwise I’m fumbling around in the unknown and I’m going to make a fool of myself”.

Have you noticed that people seldom emphasize the importance of cultivating inner integrity?

This is because it's often the case that everything that people want you to do stems from their own sense of vulnerability and need for control. People are scared and want to disarm each other in order to feel safe and it’s done in the most clever ways - sometimes by threat of external support being taken away, guilt tripping, complaining, shaming, applying pressure, forcing obedience, and instilling guilt and shame. This is Saturn at work. For some people it’s only safe to show affection once they’ve incapacitated the person of interest and broken down their defenses in order to feel in control.

Now, people are going to go about the process of disarming each other in different ways depending on their Saturn placement in the chart. A person with Saturn in Pisces is very good at playing with people’s feelings, of instilling guilt in people and being vague ” I’ve done so much and now I’m tired and maybe I won’t be able to help you anymore etc etc…”. Saturn in Taurus might be very demanding and use money, looks and possessions as a form of control ”I can buy that for you since you’re so poor and miserable”. Saturn in Aries might threaten people by outperforming them, ”You’re too slow, let me do it - you should learn how to work faster and harder”. Though the sign placement will vary, the principle of Saturn remains the same.

We all want freedom. We don’t want to live in fear because it’s the worst feeling in the world. It constricts and restricts anything that we might receive if we could only stay open and soft enough to absorb it. Defenses are necessary, but they’re usually compulsive and more destructive than constructive. It’s one thing to blindly lash out at someone because one has ”perceived a threat” in the external that was really a senseless trigger for one’s own insecurities and doubts and another thing to calmly make sure that you self-preserve. To exercise control when fear has been awakened, people usually assume the stance of the judge, and resort to engage in one-upmanship. This is unpleasant and not a very constructive use of Saturn because the individual rarely cures himself of his insecurities, they’re only temporarily remedied because one has made the other person feel just as bad as one does on the inside.

This dynamic is perfectly reflected in the lyrics to John Lennon’s song ”Crippled inside”:

You can shine your shoes and wear a suit

You can comb your hair and look quite cute

You can hide your face behind a smile

One thing you can't hide

Is when you're crippled inside

You can wear a mask and paint your face

You can call yourself the human race

You can wear a collar and a tie

One thing you can't hide

Is when you're crippled inside

As with any planet or function within the human psyche, Saturn can be misused. If the inner substance - the inner integrity - isn’t worked on, then the individual latches on to external shells of protection and remains ”crippled inside” to no end. In other words, if you conform mindlessly to societal rules, regulations and refuse to cultivate your own, inner authority based on experience, honesty and realism about yourself, you will have nothing left but an empty shell of a life. All relationships, all the work and commitments are meaningless and lacking true personal investment - they were only a mask, a protective garb, a defense against loneliness, death, weakness and humiliation.

[ecrivant]

aria | eren yeager

(eren yeager x reader)

in a rare moment of solitude, eren is haunted by his own profundity, and as the daylight’s death begets a cold, blue night, he hears a song which reminds him of home.  you are there to comfort him in his sorrow.

a quiet, slice-of-life character study of eren 

word count: 1.9k

“Sorry.”

Said in passing, over-the-shoulder, noncommittal and blunt, as you brushed by him in the cramped street. Pushing his shoulder back with yours. Brusque.  ‘Sorry,’ stated in the same way one uses ‘How are you?’ as a greeting—marked by insincerity and non-involvement and an implicit obligation to fill silence with niceties.  The collision was enough to knock him off balance, and he, torn between reactions of castigation and quiet indifference, found any possible words caught in his throat and could only let out a graceless and choked sound in response; and you, having carried on down the street without a second glance, did not hear him.  He scowled and collected himself and looked behind him in one single movement—though he figured you had long since disappeared from view, he also realized, even if he had spotted your form over his shoulder, he would not have recognized you among the swaths of people packed into the street. The crowd itself some featureless and amorphous unity, and you, both in it, lost and of it, a part.  All together indistinct.

Within the minute following he could not remember your face or your clothes or even your voice, every tangible aspect fleeting save for the lasting impression of a tactless interaction with another.  He thought of the way you had unceremoniously pushed past him and inexplicably flushed, humbled by this reminder of his insignificance.  To feel unimportant was now so foreign to him.  He was struck with an impression from his childhood—the pervasive feeling of inconsequence which once plagued him, a feeling against which he fought so hard—and he found himself thinking on it wistfully.  A yearning perhaps not for the feeling itself but for the idyllic milieu it imbued.  

He disposed of his own profundity, for now.  He could not think on the past without being consumed by longing.  He externalized himself.  

Brisk was the afternoon air as he ambled through the town in the eve of winter.  The comfort inherent to a year’s closing.  The late months were always a welcome change in the face of such blistering summers, though these days, all but the seasons seemed stagnant.  Or perhaps he was simply jaded.  Today he had earned himself a rare moment of solitude under the guise of searching for a birthday gift for Armin, informing the others he lacked trust in their abilities to keep the present secret.  A quest which led him to the town market, a charming and bustling plaza of commerce that seemed entirely separate from the rest of the world.  A breeziness so unfamiliar to him.  He would once despise this population, filled with the unaware and apathetic, but now, their ignorance, in some way, enviable.  

He went where his legs carried him.  Partially aware of his surroundings but more preoccupied with himself.  He came upon a bookshop, front window rife with leather-bound fiction.  Through the cracked door, a draft of must and leather and paper, aged and stained.  Homey. Smells reminiscent of that book Armin once presented, in childhood, whose contents were at one time of so much interest. The scent of forbidden knowledge. The building’s edifice, familiar—all wood and stone and slated roof, indistinct among the surrounding architecture.  Grime burrowed in the dips of the stone exterior. He touched this roughness as he stared through the shop window.  Each book had its own red-ribbon marker, a fiery tongue laid tame between parchment and words inked by those with greater minds than he.  As he entered the shop, he understood Armin’s affinity—the smells, the quietude of dampened sound, a tangible embrace.  One could lie on these grounds and sleep for eternity, for in this shop, surrounded by the unspoken intellections and lamentations of others, time lulled and itself seemed to arrest.  As he browsed the shelves and scanned words and names so alien to him, he was overcome by the realization that he was entirely a stranger to Armin’s interests.  He shifted from foot to foot and thought uncomfortably on it—there was something odd about the idea of discovering something new about someone with whom you had spent your entire life.  With Armin he had shared dreams and agony—why was this so foreign to him?

He exited the store emptyhanded and self-conscious and resolved to ask Armin about the books he liked.  He despised the fact he had never taken the time to do so, regardless of whether it was a fault of his own or a byproduct of their present reality—existence marked by suffering and few peaceful interludes.

It was dusk now, the sun having set and given way to bluish twilight, and the street was sparsely populated, and the air, now bitterly frigid, seeped through his clothes and settled on his skin.  He was not ready to return to HQ and instead found himself wishing for an endless solitude. As he walked down the street, one so different from that which was there earlier in the day, he forced himself to just feel—feel the way his footsteps, uneven on the cobblestone, felt in his ankles, his knees.  To feel the weight of his arms by his sides, the way they dragged his shoulders towards the earth.  To feel the way the night air numbed his fingertips and spread throughout his form.

Was this numbness anything like death’s aftermath?

Surely not.  Living numbness was like silence, for silence was simply wordless sound, the world’s ceaseless and gasping breath, absence rather than nothingness.  Death was an abject void.  Nothing any living being could conceive.

When the time came for him to disappear, as much as he convinced himself he would rescind control willingly, he knew he would resist.  Something in his nature, something deep and uncontrollable, so verily feared death—as it was in the nature of a priest to venerate his God, or the nature of time to continue unremittingly and remorselessly, this fear was intrinsic and implacable.  And one day, when he was to finally meet Death, she there to take him as she had so many others he knew and loved, he would be unashamedly afraid, and he would finally know himself fully.

His thinking was interrupted by song—one hazy and incoherent, an amalgamation of lyric and wordless vocalization, yet so deliriously familiar.  Echoing off stone, through the streets, a ghostly resonance.  Memories returned in swells—the warmth of the kitchen on a summer’s day, the rumbling laugh of his father, the taste of tea and soup and fresh-baked bread, his bedroom, pitch in the night, moonlight on walls, the smell of clean laundry, sun caught in his mother’s hair.  His knees collapsed beneath him; his hand, outreached to support his weight.  He gasped and blinked away tears and did nothing to fight against the paralysis that has overtaken him.  The tune, ephemeral and carried by a winter zephyr, was pervasive, without origin, and settled over the street like some aural mantle.  It ended suddenly, cut off by a voice before him.

“Are you all right?”

He did not answer, could not answer.  The silence, muffled.  He finally looked up and saw you, though he did not recognize your face.  You repeated your question, concerned, forceful, and laid a hand on his shoulder.  Through fabric, he felt your warmth; he could not stop the tears or his trembling inhalations.  Your touch was so gentle, within it, compassion so plethoric.  As if he were a friend, a lover.  

You sat him in the street and sank down beside him.  Shoulder-to-shoulder.  The hand that wiped at his face did little to stop his tears.

“It is okay to cry, you know.”

He shook his head in denial and sobbed again, and you simply and calmly restated your sentiments—an aphorism in which he was meant to find comfort.  The night, now marked by his quiet cries, seemed desolate; moon and sky entire occluded by clouds.  The street on which he sat was painted in undulating shadows, casted by a sole streetlamp illuminated by an orange and curling flame.  Your arm, draped over his shoulder, made him cry more—when was it last he was held like this?  He turned and buried his face in your shirt and breathed in your scent, one of oak and tea and personhood, and relished in the sincerity of your embrace.  To offer him comfort was not your bounden duty—you simply rested with him and offered your arms out of compassion.  You hugged his form tighter as if you too craved the contact.  

You quietly reassured him, of what you did not know, but he nonetheless absorbed your words.  He felt known by you, a stranger who immediately unmasked him—a type of intimacy which could only be shared between those who did not know each other.  So rare and unlike the closeness of friends.  You were at once warm and familiar and homely, and new and exciting and alien.  You were not his friend and did not feel like his friend, yet neither was required of you.  You, to him, in this moment, were something entirely different.  

He wondered what you thought of him.  A pitiable child?  One who only knew inconceivable loss and sorrow?  You would not be incorrect to assume either.

He had stopped crying long ago yet you still held him.  And he, you.

He pulled away and looked at your face and absorbed none of it before he leaned forward to kiss you. A chaste contact, testing.  He flushed, and warmness crept into his chest as you stared at him, eyes wide, unmoving.  A misstep driven by yearning you within him engendered.  He turned away as you leaned forward to meet his lips again, so your nose bumped his cheek, and you then engaged in an unwieldy dance to reorient your bodies to kiss.  Your laugh, awkward and choked and fragile.  

Then he was kissing you, and it neither amorous nor lustful.  And though he did not know what to do, the kiss itself static and somewhat unnatural, it was comfortable, placid, effortless—effortless like swimming with a current or laughing with a friend or returning, just before nightfall, to the warm embrace of a quiet home.  To him, you were intrinsic.  

Your hands on his face, gentle and warm and familiar, wiping away tears.  

The lamplight burned low when you finally pulled away from him.  

“Find me, again.”  

Your touch, a gentle graze of his browbone.  And with it, you kissed him one last time and smiled and stood and walked away and were engulfed in a dense and inky blackness the light did not penetrate.  

He rested his chin in his palm.  Imagining it was your hand, your touch.  

He did not move from his seated position on the street, and he stayed long after the lamp burned out, and the clouds in the sky cleared to reveal the domed firmament rife with stars, and the night’s death bore the dawn light, and he thought of you.  And as he walked back to HQ, stumbling as if inebriated, he still thought of you.  And when his friends demanded, voices frantic and concerned, where he had been all night, he responded that he had needed to be alone, and only he knew that his apparent solitude was feigned and untrue, as it was suffused by your presence, both tangible and incorporeal, like the way the night is both a darkness and an ambiance.  

That day he asked Armin about books and sat closer to his friends and allowed Mikasa to touch him and tend to him.  And though he could not return to the town the next night or week or month, your final words, spoken only for him, remained in his heart, a stranger’s implicit promise, the addendum: “And I’ll find you, too.”

—

hi!  thank you so much for reading!  been a little strapped for motivation and write-good juice lately, so i hope this isn’t pure garbage.  or, if it is garbage, i hope it is at least enjoyable garbage.  as always, feedback is very much appreciated.  (am thinking abt making this the first part of a long-form piece, lmk if that sounds appealing?  may do it or not do it regardless of what people say, cause that’s just how i operate xoxo)

i have a bunch of requests lined up, which is so so exciting!  thank you to everyone who sends me things.  it means the world xoxo

masterlist

taglist: @flam3bird

[mccall-me-maurice]

LOTF Drabbles for every single one of my ships based on songs on my playlist while I wait for the movers to finish

Jalph [Boom Clap - Charli XCX]: “You’re the glitter in the darkness of my world.”

Jack glances at the fair boy’s face from across the classroom. Somehow, even with the disgusting lights the school provides for their students, Ralph manages to make them appear as if they’re worth $100. It’s probably just the way that the redhead views him, only knowing portions about the boy, as if he was glancing through a keyhole. The feelings that boil under Jack’s skin - froth spilling over the edge of the pot and into the fire - consume his every waking day, plague every thought that rushes through his skull. But he has to place a glass lid on top of the water because god forbid anyone figure out that he was in love with Ralph Allebach. God forbid anyone figure out he was queer. Because in the end, he was just a fucked up kid drunk on the love he had for his nemesis. A kid the real world would tear apart, limb by limb.

Rogermon [Walk Away - The Script]: “(S)he finds colour in the darkest places, (S)he finds beauty in the saddest of faces.”

A flower bud sprouts in the garden of Eden, without even knowing that it had just entered paradise. It sinks its roots into perfect soil, the plant itself never realising that it had found a home where other’s didn’t even know of its existence. Simon Cortés was like Roger Volkov’s garden of Eden. Every time the boy created a scar or slashed open a mental wound, Simon was there to heal it. He would administer the pill, absorb the bad things with his own light, stitch every laceration that used to leave Roger doubled over and overflowing with rage. Simon Cortés was an angel trying his hardest to turn a devil to the right side of the coin.

Mauram [The Other Side - Jason DeRulo]: “This could be perfect, but we won’t know unless we try.”

Maurice always felt like there was nothing in the world to fight for. No matter who came in and out of the house inside of his brain, nobody would stay for very long. Nobody could stay for very long. He never made room for anyone in the four walls, knowing that he had enough space for himself and that was good enough. Or, it used to be good enough. But one can only live in a house all alone for so long before they start to long for someone there with them. At the very least a neighbourhood surrounding him, so maybe he wouldn’t be all alone. Which is exactly what Sam Pinch did. He slowly found the materials and built his own residence right next to Maurice’s. A boy who the brunette never wanted to talk to, who he actively avoided at the beginnings of their friendship, had opened the front door and never swung it shut. Because, in the end, Maurice couldn’t call anything home if he didn’t have Sam.

Robric [Capital Letters - Hailee Steinfeld]: “When we lie so still, but you’re taking me places.”

Robert was honestly bored with his life before he met the twins. It was the same daily routine, get up, get ready, go to school, attend choir practice then rinse and repeat. Falling into something familiar did feel nice at times, knowing that every hour of the day was used to it’s fullest and that he could predict when things would get done or when he’d have free time. But the twins brought a specific spice in his life, one that everyone else had failed to do. In the end, it was mostly Eric who forced Robert up and out of his comfort zone, aiding him in more mischievous tasks and generally becoming the brunette’s backbone. Eric was there, in the hospital, when Robert sprained his wrist, apologising profusely about ever making him try to climb a tree to grab an apple. And even in the immense pain shooting through his wrist, he blamed himself for ever doing. It occurred to him then, in the hospital waiting room, that no matter what happened to the two of them, Robert would always find a way to defend Eric. Even if the boy was clearly in the wrong. When all was said and all was done, Eric was the most important thing in Robert’s life. And he was oddly okay with that.

Billiggy [Breaking Your Own Heart - Kelly Clarkson]: “The very thing you’ve been the most afraid of, you’ve been doing from the start.”

Bill can’t remember ever apologising to anyone. For anything. His pride has always been greater than that, never letting the blonde stoop so low as to get on his knees and beg someone for forgiveness. In all honesty, he’s never done anything bad enough to need to beg someone to just let him have another chance. If you really wanted to look at it through a kaleidoscope lens, then one could assume Bill was petrified of hurting someone’s feelings and then needing to apologise. But that heart gripping sensation was something he had to conquer upon apologising to Peter Curtis for past mistakes. He’d known he was probably in the wrong at the time and convinced himself that he was right in some sick, twisted manner. So when he stuttered out the words to try and excuse his behaviour, Bill knew that they didn’t sound as genuine as he wanted them too. But Peter just chuckled and claimed that he had known for a while that Bill didn’t mean it, and out of everyone in the choir to forgive, he was more than willing to part on good terms with the blonde. And that’s how Bill Borg found himself in an unusual friendship with the boy he once called Piggy.

Wilrold [Jet Black Heart - 5 Seconds of Summer]: “But these chemicals moving between us are the reason to start again.”

Of all the people in the world to fall in love with, Wilfred Lucio chose his childhood best friend. And he’s almost certain that Harold Miracle has fallen in love with him too. Between the way he spends every waking hour with Wilfred and how he clings to the boy as if they’re attracting sides of magnets. He’s never that way with anyone else, in fact, Harold gives most people serious attitude when they ask him innocent enough questions. It is almost as if nobody else in this world matters to him quite like Wilfred does. Which is probably why the two do everything together, they’re practically conjoined at the hip. And that’s why nothing hurts the teal haired boy more than watching Harold run off and be free on his own, blind to the fact that his own best friend was drowning in an unconditional love for him that couldn’t be stopped, no matter how many barricades were built.

Perciberry [This Town - Niall Horan]: “And I know that it’s wrong, That I can’t move on.”

Max’s worst fear was always losing Percival. It was always watching the soft smile that breaks out on his face dissipate like sugar in boiling water. So when the brunette comes to Max, tears streaming down his cheeks and nose tinged red from the crying he’s still doing, the boy assumes the worst. For once, his intuition is right. Percival doesn’t give a reason, doesn’t let the other have any insight. Just sobs out a break up and retreats, broken cries still ringing in Max’s ears. Weeks and weeks pass and the boy knows that he’s still in love with Percival, he still loves the way he laughs as if everything is the funniest thing he’s ever heard, he still loves how Percival insists people call him “Percy” because it’s easier for the boy himself to remember. Despite every path Max taking leading him directly to the feet of Percival Wemys Maddison, he knows that deep down in the base of his heart, something made him unloveable. He was the one who tore them apart, he was the thorn in their side. He wasn’t sure how he did it, but he’d lost the one person who swore to love him until death. And Max would still take Percival’s hand and grip it tight if he asked.

Jalter [Use Somebody - Kings of Leon]: “You know that I could use somebody, someone like you, and all you know and how you speak.”

Johnny is one of the only people in Walter’s life who doesn’t judge any of the choices he makes. He tries to advise the boy in the right direction; steer him on the right path, but he will never tell Walter what he can and cannot do. This fact is endearing in a way, making the dark haired boy want to wrap his friend up in a tight hug and spin him around until they couldn’t stand anymore. Everlasting support was something Walter always lacked from others, so getting it from the strawberry blonde just boosted his self confidence and the image he chose to paint himself as. It takes him years upon years of being Johnny’s friend before he realises that the boy was always by his side not because he just wanted to be there for Walter. But because he couldn’t stand to watch the boy do it alone. Johnny has made Walter the centre of his galaxy subconsciously, just letting the raven haired boy become the sun and letting himself revolve around him. But to Walter, Johnny was the sun and he was the moon. The boy would light him up no matter what happened, always shedding the pure radiance of joy onto Walter. He wouldn’t trade anything in the world for the feeling.

[haymaker-mva]

– The Pigtails are Off – (4)

Part 4: The three times Luka met Marinette

Now, you may be wondering: How did everyone get their carmines? All of the students found carmines and a note on their front steps the day Marinette reached the end of her rope. It can be assumed that Marinette used her connections to get a carmine to everyone. Except Marc because she wanted to give his carmine to him with Nathaniel at school/in person. Also about that, The Confrontation (As I'm calling it) happens at lunch. Marinette left and didn't come back for the rest of the day. Hope that cleared any confusions up! Sorry for the long notes section.

Also, I planned to post this after having another part done, but I feel guilty having a part ready while having no motivation to write lately. So, take this and prepare for a long wait.

Ao3 - First - Previous - Next

When Luka Couffine first met Marinette, it was years before he met her.

...

For good measure, Marinette slipped a carmine onto his wrist. Just in case.

-

When Luka Couffine first met Marinette, it was years before he met her.

Let me explain.

It was about two years ago, when he was fifteen. He was trying to get into the Tom & Sabine Boulangerie Patisserie when he bumped into a girl.

She had long black hair that flowed down her back in waves. It shone with blue highlights that the sun cast, and she wore a jean jacket and a black pleated skirt with pink edges. Her boots were a dark brown, and she also had a pair of pink hoop earrings. Last was her tank top, which was white with a black Jagged Stone design.

Anyway, she was walking out of the bakery with something whitte folded in her arms. She seemed to be glaring at the item annoyedly when Luka opened the door and promptly walked into her.

She fell backwards, onto her butt, gripping the fabric of her item tightly. Luka fell backwards as well, and he just managed to save the guitar that had previously been on his back. Luka looked up at who he had crashed into, and the first thing he noticed was the tank top.

“Sorry… wait, you like Jagged Stone?” Luka said dumbly.

“Ugh.. yeah, I do. What’s it to you?” The girl replied, getting up off the ground. Her voice wasn’t annoyed, just apprehensive. Luka could hear her song stutter, as if she wasn’t used to people asking things like that to her.

“I love Jagged Stone! I wanted to ask where you got that shirt?” Luka asked, finally getting up and slinging his guitar back over his shoulder.

“...I made it. The design is official but It always was too small or the fabric was too rough in official merch.” The girl told him.

“Oh. I asked so I could get one of my own. I agree with what you said about official merch. Jagged really needs to get a better provider or something.” Luka agreed, moving off to the side inside the bakery with her.

“Well, I have a t-shirt that’s pretty much the same that I could give you,” The girl offered, holding out the item that Luka now knew was a shirt. “I originally made it for myself, but I misjudged the measurements and made it too big.”

“That’d be awesome!” Luka said, taking the surprisingly soft t-shirt and holding it up to himself. “How much do I owe you?”

“You want to pay me?” She asked, raising her eyebrows. “It’s a leftover, it’s fine.”

“No, you made it and now you’re just giving it to someone you’ve never met. I’m paying you.” Luka pulled twenty dollars out of his pocket and put it into the girl’s hand.

“It’s honestly fine,” She started, but a ring from her phone cut her off. She glanced at it, and her eyes went wide. “I have to go!” She turned and rushed out the door, not even remembering her resistance to getting paid for her work.

Luka watched her rush off with a small smile, and walked up to the counter to buy something for him and Juleka. Picture day was today, and she probably just got home. Best to stock up on treats.

-

The second time Luka met her was around a year ago, when he was seventeen and she was sixteen.

This time he had heard of her from Juleka before the second meet. He had been all ready and stocked up for a comfort session because it was picture day for Juleka. But when she got back, she was all smiles. Luka listened to her speak about a girl named Marinette like she was a god on earth. But Juleka also seemed nervous. Like she wasn’t sure if she was doing something wrong or not. But that was just Luka’s guess.

Anyway, Luka was just happy that Juleka finally had a good picture day. Luka was immensely grateful for this Marinette, he would have to make sure to thank her when he met her.

A few weeks later Marinette was walking dejectedly towards the room that she was told Luka would be in. As soon as she was out of sight of the others she straightened her slouched back and wiped the sadness off of her face.

She knew she should be a bit more careful, but it was annoying to act like her life revolved around a guy. It painted her as endearing and not a threat, so it was “worth” it. Some days she got tired of it though. In reality, Marinette only had a small crush on the boy.  She liked his kind personality, but it wasn’t anything as extreme as she played it up to be.

Anyway, Marinette walked towards the doorway to what she assumed was Juleka and Luka’s room. She walked in to see a boy with deep black hair that was dyed teal at the edges. He wore a slightly worn Jagged Stone shirt that looked familiar to Marinette. His eyes were closed, and he seemed to be meditating. She shook her head and looked at him calculatingly. This must be Luka. He looked like the calm type. He definitely liked music, she could see a guitar on his bed.

His eyes opened and she immediately scrambled to look like she just got there.

“H-hey! My name’s Ma-Ma-Marinette! It-uh, your Mom sent me down here, the grove, er, um, the group’s- waiting for you.” She stuttered “nervously.”

` -

Luka studied the girl who had just come in.

As soon as she walked in the door, Luka could feel confidence and poise radiating off of someone. His eyes had been closed, but the orchestra that was this girl’s song was unignorable. He opened his eyes after a moment of listening to the carefully crafted sound that flowed out of her. For a split second after opening his eyes he saw her face. She was looking at him with the expression of a scientist, detached and serious. She seemed to be evaluating him. But after that millisecond, she scrambled and started stuttering.

“H-hey! My name’s Ma-Ma-Marinette! It-uh, your Mom sent me down here, the grove, er, um, the group’s- waiting for you.”

He studied her for a moment. This personality was miles away from what he had just seen. Her music was the same, except for a small flute sound that represented her current behavior. This was off. The way Marinette was acting… it wasn’t real. He decided to play along for now though. If her previously seen personality was anything to go by, this girl was confident in herself. Usually there was something to back that type of raw confidence up. Also, he was thankful for what she had done for his sister.

“Hi, Ma-Ma-Marinette.” He said, chuckling behind his hand.

She looked away for a moment, and by the way she stood he would assume she was sad. But her music suggested otherwise. She was angry. Deafeningly angry.

“Sorry,” He backtracked, still trying to act like he didn’t know what she was doing. Not that he did, he had no clue why she was faking her personality. “I didn’t mean to offend. I tend to make more sense with this.”

Luka reached over to his guitar and pulled it into his lap. He readied himself and patted the bed, motioning for Marinette to sit down. She compiled, and sat down with an expression of curiosity on her features.

He started playing the melody he heard from her, although he couldn’t do it justice with just one instrument. He kept quiet, letting the music speak for himself. (He totally wasn’t afraid to say something wrong and anger the frightening girl. Not at all.)

As he played, he saw Marinette’s eyes close, and her hand came up to rest on her heart. She seemed to relax, letting a small smile creep onto her face. It was the first real reaction he had seen her give. (And purposefully let him see, that is.)

He smiled, and closed his eyes too, absorbing himself in the sound of the music.

-

After that meeting, Luka couldn’t keep Marinette off of his mind. What has she been hiding? Why was she wearing such a thick mask? His curiosity with Marinette started as just that, a curiosity. But over time and more encounters, he found himself falling for her. Not her fake stuttering and demeanor, but the snippets of her true self he saw shining through. His heart beat faster when she grew determined or confident.

Luka knew that he was falling hard and fast, and for a girl that kept her guard up constantly. He managed to get more moments of her real personality whenever she got immersed in his music. So, he wrote more music for her. Juleka noticed, obviously, and Luka noticed her nervousness at his new crush (it totally wasn’t growing bigger then that...right?), but didn’t know what to make of it. What he didn’t notice was Juleka’s fear.

-

And now the third and last, yet somehow the first time Luka Couffine met Marinette Dupain-Cheng.

-

Juleka handed Luka the piece of paper.

“What’s this? Is this what Sabrina was here so early for?” He asked, taking the folded paper.

“N-no… Well, yes, b-but it’s from Marinette.” With that, Juleka left the room to meet with Rose, who was standing on the dock to the boat.

Luka looked at the paper in his hand. Juleka’s music had been sporadic, messy. But he could feel relief seeping in. He wondered what was up.

Anyway, he unfolded the note, and read the contents.

“Meet at the Trocadéro at 4 pm. Will explain later.”

Luka’s eyebrows arched. What was this? Was something happening? Was she…? No. Luka couldn’t get his hopes up. He folded the note and slipped it in his pocket.

Looks like he was going to the Trocadéro later that day.

Hours later, Luka sat atop a bench on the bridge in the Trocadéro. He absentmindedly strummed his guitar, letting the music echo around him as he waited.

After around five minutes of waiting, Luka heard the impressive orchestra of Marinette’s song. He turned to see her, and was shocked by her new look. He blinked, getting over his initial surprise, and smiled, patting the spot on the bench beside him.

Marinette obliged, sitting down with an unreadable expression on her face. She closed her eyes and listened to Luka playing her song. After a minute or two, she knew it was time to explain.

“I’m willing to bet you already knew I was faking.”

“Yep, you can’t hide your true self when I can see what displays who you truly are.” Luka realized what he said, and expected to be hit with a, “...what?”, but instead was met with silence. He blinked in surprise at the lack of reaction, and looked to his right to see Marinette staring at the water with a thoughtful expression painted across her face.

“You mean because of my ‘song?’” She asked.

Her question took him off guard, but Luka quickly tried to recover. “Y-yeah, pretty much. I’m not good with words, like I said when we first met.”

She let a small laugh fall from her lips. After that though, Luka desperately tried to stop thinking about her, uhm, lips. He blinked, and she was talking again. “I’m sorry- no, I’m not really sorry. I did what I did to try and experience a bit of normal. Maybe reform myself.” She sighed, a frustrated expression on her face. “But it was hard to keep that demeanor up. Especially once Lila started feeding everyone lies about my ‘actions’ and ‘bullying.’”

“I think you should just be who you are, corny as that sounds.” Luka replied, nudging her with his shoulder. “Or if you really do want to get better, do it little by little. Don’t just jump headfirst into a new personality.”

“Yeah, I kinda get that now,” She snarked dryly.

“But I wouldn’t blame you for being petty right about now. I know a bit about Lila from the rest of Kitty Section, and she seems like a bitch.”

Marinette surprised him by laughing. “You hit the nail right on it’s head, she is such a snake. No wait, that would be an offence to snakes.” She smirked knowingly.

Luka and Marinette talked until it was dark and they had to go home. For good measure, Marinette slipped a carmine onto his wrist. Just in case.

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[lxme-xss-imxgines]

When the Day Met the Night

Prompt: What happens when polar opposite celestial beings are plopped onto an island alone in mortal form?

Pairing: reader (moon) x jung hoseok (sun) 

Genre: fluff, angst, bad flow of writing lmfaooo n e way 

Word count: 4.6k

Warnings: !!!!!! attempted suicide (nothing graphic), SO much angst 

A/N: wow I love the song When the Day Met the Night by P!ATD, so here’s this lil thing. its kind of short but cute ???? Still not rlly sure if I like it or not but yk hahahaha n e way enjoy :)

***

when the moon fell in love with the sun

all was golden in the sky

all was golden when the day met the night

 The moment the sun was created, he knew his job. Begin the day on earth and then bring it to an end. It was simple, as the earth and everything else revolved around him - quite literally. He didn’t really have anything to occupy his time, so he tended to do a lot of thinking. 

One of his many questions, perhaps the one he thought about most, 

“What happens when I go down? Is it just  . . . darkness?”

He didn’t expect that one day, he would get his answer. 

When the sun found the moon

She was drinking tea in the garden 

Under the green umbrella trees

In the middle of summer

He had never thought that he would be anything more than a hot ball of fire in the sky. So when a piece of him detached and began to float somewhere new, he was worried. 

Would he be able to return to the rest of him to become whole again? Where exactly was he going? To bring light somewhere else?

Not quite. 

A voice rings and it startles him as he continues his journey through the universe, just drifting about. 

“Who are you? Where are you taking me?” 

Don’t be so nervous, Hoseok. There’s someone we want you to meet. 

“I- I have so many questions. Who are you? Who am I to meet? Hoseok . . . is that my name?”

We’re everything and nothing all at once; don’t think about it too hard. 

He did. 

You’ll be okay. Rest assured. We’ll talk again on your trip back. 

“Wait! You still haven’t told me-” 

Until later, Hoseok. Enjoy your time. 

A bright light is suddenly visible, almost seeming to bring a light ache. 

He can feel something beneath him, not hard but not too soft either. It was comfortable. Slowly, the light began to dim. He could feel something tickling him, and a sound erupts from him - laughter? Hoseok thinks to himself. 

New vocabulary seemed to rest in his head, and he wasn’t sure if he’d be able to use it properly or not. Or even what to use it for. 

Over the past few minutes, the brightness in his eyes has completely faded to somehow reveal a pale blue sky with clouds scattered amongst it. 

Is this what they see? 

He looks down at his surroundings, the amount and vibrancy of colors shocking his eyes open even wider. 

The green grass, the multicolored flowers, a fountain flowing ever so softly a few yards in front of his feet. A stone path lay to his right. 

Hoseok prays that no one is watching him as he takes his very first steps ever, as it is quite embarrassing, like a colt attempting to stand for the first time. He takes notice that his legs are rather long - how old is this body that he’s inhabiting? He has no real concept of human age, but assumes in the very least that he is in a fully matured form. 

He thinks he’s safe once he gets a little more confident in his steps, taking it little by little. 

And then he hears the faintest laugh, startling him and he loses balance, landing in the grass on his hands and knees.

“Oh my goodness, I’m so sorry! I really didn’t mean to startle you. I didn’t really think I was capable of doing so . . .” 

He wearily looks up to face the owner of the voice, feeling his cheeks heat from his own embarrassment. 

When the moon found the sun

He looked like he was barely hanging on

But her eyes saved his life

In the middle of summer

He didn’t really know what to expect, but he surely wasn’t expecting her.

Long silver hair framed her face, matching her set of silver eyes that were glimmering as she looked down at him. Her skin held a glow, not quite like his, but more subtle. Yet it was somehow more eye-catching, the glimmer that spread across her skin catching every ray of his light and reflecting. 

“I-uh,” Hoseok shakes his head, finally reaching for her hand,”you don’t have to apologize. It’s just kind of embarrassing is all.” 

He pulls himself up with the help of this mystery girl, finally feeling like his legs are his own. 

They kind of stand there for a second, hands still touching as they observe each other. However, Hoseok startles out of it first, pulling his hand away. 

“Um, I suppose you’re who I’m to meet? I’m Hoseok . . . I guess you may know me as the guy that lights up the Earth and what not.” he tilts his head, wondering if he’ll get recognition. 

Her eyes widen like saucers, her mouth dropping open slightly,”You’re the sun? They didn’t tell me I would be meeting you! Oh goodness, I feel so unprepared . . . “ her hands come up to squish her face out of anxiety, and she completely forgets to return the introduction. 

“I, uh . . . can I know your name?” 

She looks up with a small gasp, her hand coming up to hit her forehead,”I’m sorry, I’m such a space case. No pun intended. I’m y/n, or better known as the one who lights up the night, as you would say.” 

Hoseok’s face crinkles in confusion,”There’s someone who lights up the night? But isn’t the night  . . . dark? I mean, that’s what happens when I’m not there, right?” 

The moon’s shoulders drop, any excitement previously held from meeting another being gone. Her eyebrows furrow,”Uh, yeah. I don’t really light it up like you do the day . . . it’s more like a night light. When you go down, I come up. The sun’s job is to provide light and warmth, otherwise the Earth would freeze over. And the moon- well, I really don’t know what my purpose is quite yet. I think I can do something to water . . . I don’t know.” 

She fiddles with her hands and stares at her feet, and Hoseok feels a pang of guilt hit deep in his chest. Why does she know so much about him, yet he didn’t even know she existed? Another being, in the same solar system - was he that self centered? Absorbed and made ignorant by his own light? So swallowed by his own loneliness that he didn’t even consider the fact that maybe he might not be completely alone? 

So he said, "Would it be all right

If we just sat and talked for a little while

If in exchange for your time

I give you this smile?"

 So she said, "That's OK

As long as you can make a promise

Not to break my little heart

Or leave me all alone in the summer." 

“Then we can figure it out together, yeah?” He lets his hand float in the air in front of her, hoping the offer was appropriate. His heart beats in anticipation.

She looks up, eyes widening once again,”huh?”

“Why you’re here, your purpose. We can figure it out together,” he flashes her a smile so bright and warm that she almost feels faint, her head going dizzy. Little did she know, she was having the exact same effect on him. “If that’s alright with you, of course?” 

She hesitantly grabs his hand, settling for just hooking their pinkies. Her lips form a small smile,”I was just having tea under those trees, over there by the fountain. Would you like to join me?” 

He restrained the strong want to smile at her nervousness, which he found strange (only because he’s never experienced it before) but also completely endearing. 

She lightly pulled him toward a table with two chairs on opposite sides, nestled between two trees and only a few short steps away from the calm trickling of the fountain. One side of the table was a glimmering silver, the other a sparkling gold, with chairs to match.  It made him chuckle lowly to himself. 

He pulled out her seat for her before she could even think about it, a blush forming on her cheeks from the gesture. 

He took the seat across from her and watched intently as she poured them each a cup, quietly offering him milk and sugar. He shook his head, regretting it not seconds later when the bitter liquid assaulted his newly formed taste buds, his scowl earning a chuckle from his counterpart. 

He suddenly took notice of the detailing on the table. What he assumed to be a moon is carved into his side of the table, and a sun carved on y/n’s side. 

“It’s supposed to be representative of a yin-yang symbol, if I remember correctly. A symbol of balance. Light and dark, male and female, day and night.” 

Hoseok is quiet for a moment at this revelation before a question eventually bubbles into his head,”Where did you learn all of this? About me, about yin and yang, about tea?” 

She giggles, but he’s not offended by him. He didn’t think it was possible, but his heart warms a little bit more at the sound. 

“You help me find my purpose, and I’ll teach you about all the things I’ve learned. Deal?” she reaches her hand out over the table, anxiety bubbling in her gut at the thought of rejection. He senses her nerves, and if he had the strength to tell her there's no reason to fear rejection from him, he would. 

However, he meets his hand with hers once again as reciprocating the handshake was all he could muster.

“Deal.” 

And so their friendship began. 

Well he was just hanging around

Then he fell in love

And he didn't know how

But he couldn't get out

Just hanging around

Then he fell in love

“Hoseok, be careful not to over-water the plants! You’ll drown them, silly,” y/n rushes over to where he’s standing in the garden, carefully tipping back the watering can before he turns their flower bed into a river bed. 

Hoseok reaches behind his head, awkwardly scratching his neck,”I’m sorry, y/n. The soil was just looking a little dry. I didn’t mean-” 

“Hey, sunshine. It’s okay. If those ones would’ve been overwatered, we can always just plant more,” she gives her usual small smile and carefully takes the watering can from him before returning it to the inside of their cottage. 

Sunshine, one of her many nicknames for him. The difference with this one is that it always seemed to make his heart skip a beat when it left her mouth. 

They had been staying on their little island for about a month and a half now, and they seem to have fallen into a comfortable rhythm of things. Drinking tea together, gardening together, swimming together - there was a small amount of activities that they did separately. 

They both knew it was odd, as they were deemed to be polar opposites and honestly shouldn't be getting along so well. But yin-yang rang true, and they balanced each other out perfectly. 

The only thing the moon did that annoyed the sun at times was something they call her “dark days”. He tries his hardest to understand it, but it’s difficult to empathize with a feeling you never experience. 

Hoseok believes that it’s partially - no, scratch that - he believes it’s completely his fault. 

When they first arrived he’d promised her he’d help her find her purpose, the reason she goes up into the sky at night; with a promise of knowledge about the universe in return. 

Whilst he has received an immeasurable amount of knowledge thanks to y/n, it seems as if he hasn’t made any progress figuring out what she’s here for. He knows she has a purpose, he is 100% certain and he feels it in every fiber of his being. He just hasn’t figured out what exactly it is yet. 

He still feels confused when she shuts herself in her room, and won’t come out for the majority of the day, only revealing herself to grab a glass of water and say goodnight to Hoseok. 

And although he hasn’t quite grasped the feeling yet, he knows that it hurts her. He knows this because it’s what he feels on the days he doesn’t see her, the days she locks herself away. He doesn’t understand why it upsets him so much. 

Today, luckily for both of them, is a good day. Or at least it started out as one. 

As y/n’s eyes flutter open, the scent of something hits her nose. It’s bacon, she thinks - but it just smells a little-

“Oh no,” she practically rolls out of bed, darting into their kitchen to see Hoseok holding a pan of burnt bacon in one hand, the other hand reaching to turn the knob off. 

“Y/n! I, uh, I’m sorry. I was trying to make breakfast for us, but ironically I haven’t really gotten a grip on the whole fire thing yet and-” 

“Hobi, sunshine, it’s okay,” she walks over, taking the pan from him and pouring the grease into a jar before discarding the burnt bacon into the trash.

“You’re not upset?” he questions. He didn’t want to come off judgemental, but there was a day where y/n found a dried out worm on the pathways and proceeded to cry over it for two hours. If she shed some tears over burnt bacon, it would not have shocked him in the slightest. 

“Of course not, you tried your best and that’s all that really matters,” she strokes his cheek slightly to comfort him before returning to make the breakfast he attempted. 

He’s shocked by her upbeat demeanor, but he knows better than to look a gift horse in the mouth.  

“So, what did you want to do today?” he leans against the counter and watches intently as she places bacon in the pan once more. 

“I’m not sure. Maybe go for a walk? It’s cooler out today,” she close-mouthed smiles, knowing that means Hobi was feeling calm today, that most likely nothing was troubling him. 

“That’s a great idea! Maybe you’ll find a new flower or berry or something!” 

“Always the optimist,” she gives a light sigh as she flips the bacon, almost seeming to go out of focus; something she does quite often, Hoseok has noticed. It was odd, how she’d have this far off look in her eyes and yet still be able to complete whatever task she was working on. Like her body took control as her mind wandered away.

Breakfast continued without a hitch. They ate in relative silence, but it was a comfortable silence. One filled with stolen glances and small smiles. 

After cleaning up, they chose a trail to take their walk on. It was one they’d only been down maybe once or twice, which left hoseok hoping y/n could discover something new. Something to distract her for a bit longer as he continues his research to figure out why y/n is here. 

Sometimes Hoseok thinks that there’s no particular reason why Y/n is here, and he thinks of ways to explain that it would be okay if she didn’t have a reason, if she were to just be existing. But he plays the conversation in his head and he can see her facial expression after the words leave his mouth and then his stomach drops and then he forgets about even bringing it up to her all together. 

“Hoseok?” 

y/n calling his name knocks him out of his thoughts, his eyes landing on her small form. He smiles,”let’s go.”

She shakes her head and giggles slightly,”alright. Onward then.”

He gestures for her to walk first, and so she begins their trek down the trail. This one in particular winds through the woods, cuts through a clearing, and then leads down to the river. Even though they’ve only been down this one a small amount of times, and there is probably other trails, y/n thinks this one may be her favorite. 

The breeze flutters y/n’s dress and hoseok’s loose white button up as they walk through the woods, the only sound heard being their footsteps and the occasional noise coming from an animal. 

“Hobi?”

“Yes, nightlight?” 

She hopes he doesn’t see her cheeks turn red. 

“I know how you say I think too much and I should probably stop doing that-”

“But?” 

She stops for a second, glancing up at him. He notices a second later, pivoting to return her gaze. 

She lets out a little breath,”Do you not think about why we’re here? I mean, if it happened to you the same way it did me, a voice came to you and told you that they wanted you to meet someone, and all of a sudden you had a body and then you were here. I was here for a bit before you, and I thought the worst. I had done something wrong and now I was being banished to spend my life, however long that would be, on this island. Alone. And then you showed up . . . and now I’m even more confused.” 

He can see her eyes starting to glaze over, and his stomach drops. That was the expression he was trying so hard to avoid seeing. Maybe he hadn’t tried hard enough to find out why she’s here. She was upset all over again and it was his fault. 

He takes a step forward,”Y/n, just give me more time-”

“You shouldn’t need more time, Hoseok!” she grabs onto his sleeves, tears starting to flow from her eyes,”The reason why you can’t figure out why I’m supposed to be here is because I don’t need to be! I am unnecessary. You light up the whole earth and bring light and the day, hobi. What do I do? Why did they put me on this cage of an island with you of all beings? So I could feel even worse about myself?”

Her words startle him into speechlessness as he just stares at the tears flowing down her cheeks; he is frozen.

Her hands drop from his sleeves moments later and he still can’t find his voice. 

“Just accept that I’m right, Hoseok. I am nothing.” she sighs once more and turns away from him, heading back down the path and toward the cottage. 

The word nothing hits him like a bullet, so much force he almost actually stumbles backward. He’s suddenly out of his trance, and he marches forward, gently grabbing her shoulder and spinning her to face him. 

“Don’t you dare call yourself nothing ever again. Ever.”

“Why not? It’s true, Ho-”

“I love you! Do you hear me, y/n? I am in love with you. Do you think that if you were nothing, if you meant nothing I would fall for you like I have? Do you know how insulting it is to have you call the thing I love most nothing? That is the last word I would use to describe you.” 

“I-I’m sorry. But . . . that still doesn’t explain why I’m here. This isn’t about you, Hoseok. I understand the whole universe revolves around you and everything, but just because you fell in love with me doesn’t mean I have purpose all of a sudden. This doesn’t change anything.” 

Her voice shook the whole time and tears kept leaving her eyes, all signs saying she didn’t mean a damn word she was saying - but to the sun, it felt as real as it could. 

She walks away once more, and it wasn’t until she was out of his line of vision did he realize his cheeks were wet with hot tears. 

One week later

Hollow. 

Hollow is how Hoseok feels. 

He doesn’t know what to do with himself. He has never felt this in his entire existence before. 

Does he talk to her? Plead with the universe to return back to his place in the sky? Lay in his bed for the rest of eternity and wallow in self-pity? 

The last one seemed the most appealing. 

“You are the sun, Hoseok. The fucking sun for god sakes. And you can’t even manage to convince the girl you love that there’s purpose for her existence. Why isn’t my love for her enough? Why isn’t the way she makes me laugh, the way I get butterflies when I look at her . . . why isn’t that enough? Is this how she feels?” 

Hoseok sits up as realization hits him like a freight train. He knows why she’s here. He’s finally figured it out. 

***

Light knocks on wood are heard throughout the otherwise silent cottage as Hoseok’s knuckles rap against y/n’s door. 

“Please come out. I- I really need to talk to you. I think . . . no, I know now. I figured it out, if you just- y/n? Why haven’t you started yelling at me yet?” slight worry settles in his stomach as he reaches for the doorknob, confusion filling his head as the door opens easily. 

The room isn’t a mess as it had been previously, as y/n had a tendency to have her things scattered about. It was almost unsettling how clean and organized everything is. And sitting on her nightstand next to her bed is a folded piece of paper that makes his heart drop. 

He hesitates to pick it up, but reluctantly opens it to see that it’s addressed to him. 

“Dear Hoseok, 

I am sorry. I can no longer bear the weight of having a physical body in which my consciousness resides. They won’t let me return back to my place in the sky where my celestial being is currently, so I must find a way to force them to. I just want you to take one thing away from this, if anything; 

This is not your fault. I should not have given you such a big responsibility. It was my journey to embark on and I could not handle it, and I should not have expected you to be able to. Please do not blame yourself for the demise of my mortal body. 

Thank you for everything. 

Love, y/n” 

The letter is crumpled into his fist as hot tears stream down his face. He begins to rip the letter into pieces and notices something. 

“The ink is smearing . . . this has just been written  . . . oh no,” he drops the remaining pieces of the letter and dashes out of the cottage. “If I were y/n, where would I go?”

He suddenly feels something wet on his face, and looks up to see a dark sky. It’s always sunny here. What is happening? 

“The moon . . . pulls the tides. She’s going to try and drown herself,” hoseok starts running faster than he ever thought possible, trying to make it down to the shoreline in time. Although the island isn’t very large, she could be at any part of the shore. 

Hoping that his intuition will take him to the right spot, he just keeps moving. 

I have to make it in time. I have to. 

Feeling as if his lungs will collapse once he finally reaches the shoreline, he panics as he can’t see her at first. But then he hears her, sobs racking her body. 

Most of her body is submerged in the icy water, only visible from her elbows up as she sits in the sand. 

He slowly approaches her, going in until the water hits his knees,”Y/n?” 

“They won’t l-let me, Hoseok. They won’t let me,” another sob escapes her mouth, her shoulders shaking. 

“Won’t let you what, nightlight?” he murmurs so soft he almost thought she couldn’t hear him.

“They won’t let me die!” a deep breath leaves her,”I can’t die. I can’t return to my home. I’m just stuck. Here, watch!” 

He reaches out for her as she tries throwing herself in the water,  but she doesn’t even hit the surface before the ocean comes rushing back toward her, standing her upright once again. Hoseok watches in awe. 

“It’s yourself, you know. You won’t let yourself die. Because you know that’s not what you’re meant to do.” 

“How exactly am I not letting myself die? Is throwing myself into the ocean not convincing enough for you?!” y/n is inches away from his face at this point, irritated at the complete calmness in his eyes.

“I’m sorry, but I was under the impression that it was the moon who controls the tides. I’m not saying you’re doing it on purpose. But deep down, you still think there’s a reason that you’re here. There’s a part of you that wants to live and find out. And I’m here to tell you.”

Y/n perks up at this, although there’s still tears welled in her eyes,”there’s no way you figured it out. You’re just saying that to try and stop me.” 

“I don’t think you understand, y/n. Without you, the whole world would fall out of balance. You know of yin and yang, correct? Warm and cold. Light and dark. Day and night?” 

“Yeah, I’ve read it all. What is your point here, Hoseok?” 

“Love, you bring things that I could never provide. I could never move the tides. I could never shine among the stars like you do. I can never bring comfort during the dark like you. Don’t you understand? Everything shines the brightest when it is darkest. You are loved by so many. I may bring warmth and light. But you bring beauty, comfort, and understanding. Understanding that without the night, we would never cherish the beauty of the dark, and what lies in it. Darling, don’t you see? You are the one everyone truly loves. You bring light in the darkest of times. How can you not see that?” 

Y/n looks as if Hoseok had just slapped her in the face, waves of tears making their way down her cheeks freely. She stumbles forward, almost drunkenly and blinded by her tears, and begins weakly beating on his chest. 

“H-How can I believe you? I-I just . . . What if you’re just saying this because you love me?” she lets out an exasperated breath, finally looking up into his eyes. 

“So what if I am? You don’t think those humans love you almost as much as I do? Or did you just forget everything that I said? That is the whole point, nightlight. Everyone on Earth loves you just as much as I do. You just needed someone else to tell you so that you’d finally believe it.” 

Silence sweeps over the both of them as they breathe heavily, exhausted physically and emotionally. 

“Look y/n, I- 

Hoseok doesn’t get the chance to finish his sentence as the force of her body knocks into his, nearly knocking him over. Relief floods his body as he relaxes into her embrace, the sky growing lighter in time with his heart. 

“Hoseok, I’m so sorry I said all of those things to you. I was just so . . . I am so scared,” she sniffles quietly. 

He releases himself from y/n, looking down at her with a confused look,”Scared of what?”

“Of loving you. And everything that comes with it. But I, um, I think it’s much too late for that.”

Hoseok’s eyebrows shoot up, a beaming smile coming onto his face,”are you serious? You- you love me? You actually love me back?” 

“I think there’s a better term for it, the humans use it to differentiate between platonic and romantic feelings. I don’t just love you, sunshine. I am in love with you.” Her hands come up and rest on his cheeks, his doing the same. 

“Uh, I, is this where -”

“Oh my stars, just kiss me already you dork.” 

The legend says that the upper beings were so pleased, the sun and moon were allowed to stay on their island together for the rest of eternity. 

All was golden in the sky

All was golden when the day met the night. 

The End

[songsoomin]

Let Me Down  Part 2 (A, S)

Synopsis: CollegeStudent!Mingi x CollegeStudent!Reader, Friend!Yunho. After you left Mingi due to his neglect of you, you’re both finding it tough to move on

Song inspiration: ‘Need You Now’ Lady A

Genre: Angst, smut and eventual fluff (but not yet)

Warnings: Drunk unprotected sex, fingering, oral (m and f receiving), mentions of using alcohol to cope with the pain, threat of sexual assault (by random character, of course not any of the boys), physical violence (towards same random character). 

Word count: 9K (sorry)

Posted: 27th June 2020

Part 1 Part 3

It was the third time you'd heard the gentle knock on your bedroom door and for the third time you ignored it.

"Y/N...." Jina's worried voice filtered through, "...please come out and eat something."

You buried your head further under the covers.

"You haven't eaten properly in days. Not since -"

"Jina...let her be. She just needs some time." Suzy interjected before Jina could mention him. Both your roomates had been tip-toeing around what happened three days ago. The day you finally broke up with Mingi. They'd both been waiting for you to see sense and dump your selfish, unreliable boyfriend of five years but hadn't forseen the fallout from that decision. Now they were both worried for you.

When they came home from their lectures that day to find you lying on your bed, red-eyed from crying all afternoon. They had thought that as you were the one who broke it off, you'd cry it out and then get over it - after all, it wasn't like you were the one who'd been dumped...you'd chosen to end it. They had got it very wrong, though, because you still loved Mingi, despite leaving him and you felt like your world had caved in on you. You left him because you couldn't stand knowing he didn't love you the same way anymore, knowing you just weren't that important to him. You had to leave because you knew the way he was treating you was wrong. It didn't mean you didn't love him anymore, though, and right now you were starting to question whether this pain you were feeling was worse than the hurt you felt while you were with him.

"You did the right thing, Y/N." Suzy said with confidence later that evening when you had finally given in to Jina's worrying and come out to pick at some toast. "You can't allow yourself to be taken for granted like that."

"I know it hurts now but you'll start to feel better soon and one day you'll find someone who isn't too stupid to see how lucky he is to have you." You almost rolled your eyes at the cliched line coming out of your best friend's mouth but you didn't want to offend her; you knew she was trying her best to cheer you up.  

"It might not be too bad, Y/N..." Jina added, "At least you don't have any shared classes with him and there isn't long left before graduation anyway. You'll never have to see him again after that."

The feeling you got when Jina spoke of never seeing Mingi again was like being punched in the gut. You felt sick so you ditched your toast and made an excuse, trudging back to your room to lay on your bed, willing this feeling to go away.

By Monday you had come to the realisation that you couldn't stay in your room forever so when Suzy - the 'mother' of your trio - came in to ask if you were going to return to your classes, you surprised her by already being awake. It was wholly unlike you to be up and dressed early but you hadn't been sleeping properly for the last week anyway.

As the weeks went by you found that you could return to life as normal for the most part; you went to classes, your part-time job, even a few social gatherings and you seemed almost normal again but Jina and Suzy could see it. You weren't ok. You did a good enough job of pretending in order to get through the day but you weren't quite the same anymore. You also knew this but the only way you knew to manage was to ignore the pain; you buried it as far down as you could until it was just a dull ache in the background, a constant reminder that he didn't love you.

                                                   ********

Mingi POV

"So she finally dumped your sorry arse?" Hongjoong asked once Mingi told him why he was slumped on the couch staring blankly at the TV screen. To be honest he hadn't paid any attention to what was on and now he looked at it properly it appeared to be some kind of gardening programme - certainly not what he would normally watch and what must've caused his friends such confusion when they came back to the dorm Mingi shared with Yunho and Hongjoong.

"You did have it coming, though..." Yeosang said matter-of-factly, earning a glare from Mingi but he continued undisturbed, "I mean, did you think she would put up with being neglected forever? You barely made any time for her, at all."

Mingi contemplated that and realised he had never thought about it. It would be a lie to say he was unaware that he prioritised his friends over you but he just assumed you were ok and would always be there.

"You ok, bro?" Yunho asked, jolting Mingi out of his thoughts suddenly. The tall blonde, as his best friend, was more worried about how Mingi felt than the others were.

"I'm fine." Mingi said trying to sound a lot more happy than he felt. "In fact, I'm great. I can do whatever I want now, spend as much time with you guys as I like without being nagged about it. Now I can enjoy our last months at college before we have to join the real world."

Yunho looked at him as if he was crazy and maybe he was but if he kept telling himself that this was a good thing for him then maybe he would start to believe it and get rid of this painful aching in his chest.

"You know, you really didn't deserve her." Yunho muttered as he walked away.

It had been about two months since Mingi had really seen you - not that he hadn't looked but he seemed to only catch a glimpse of you as you crossed the campus grass or disappeared into one of the lecture halls. He thought he'd at least see you in the cafeteria or eating lunch with your friends on the grass as the weather was so nice now but he never did - it was almost like you had completely disappeared from his life. He hadn't spoken to his friends about you at all - still stuck in his delusion that if he pretended to be happy without you, he would be - but eventually he asked Yunho, who was on the same course as you, if you were still attending lessons.

"Yeah, of course she is." Yunho answered, not thinking much of it as he was distracted with the choice of pizza in front of him at the lunch counter.

"Do you talk to her much? Is she ok?" Mingi attempted to seem nonchalant but the questions caught Yunho's attention now that he'd settled on his usual pepperoni and a diet coke to wash it down with.

"Why?" He asked, raising an eyebrow in challenge. Mingi kept pretending he was having a great time single, going out to clubs, drinking, flirting with girls, but Yunho had been his best friend since they were five years old and he wasn't swallowing that crap. It didn't escape his attention that Mingi was drinking too much and, as much as he flirted, never accepted any of the girls' advances.

"No reason. I just hardly ever see her around - I just wondered." Mingi looked away fast, not wanting Yunho to see just how much he wanted to hear anything about you.

"Uh-huh, sure." Yunho shook his head at Mingi, "Just go try to win her back or something. The others might not notice but I know this is tearing you apart."

"Hey! She dumped me! If she loved me so much she wouldn't have left." As his voice faltered on those last words, Mingi couldn't help but let slip how he really felt. There was no point hiding it, anyway. Yunho already knew.

"You're so stupid, Mingi." Yunho replied, sighing because what he also knew was that you looked like shit all the time because you weren't sleeping or eating properly. He knew you were just as unhappy but Mingi was still just as self-absorbed, only thinking about how hard this was on him when really he should just take some fucking responsibility for how he treated you and realise it was all his own fault.

                                                      ********

In truth you very much had been avoiding any place you knew Mingi would be; you knew his schedule and his habits so you simply made sure you took a different route if your classes ended around the same time. You always went off campus for lunch, as well, somewhere you knew Mingi wouldn't go. Jina and Suzy were really supportive, they knew that it was still hard for you to see him and would do anything to help you through it. As time wore on you actually found that not seeing Mingi helped a lot and slowly you were starting to feel better. Your best friends were also delighted to see you starting to eat better, taking it as a sign you were getting over him. It didn't always work, you were bound to see him occasionally as you were at the same college. When you did see him, though, he would be laughing with his friends, looking so carefree. Sometimes you would see him talking to girls, though, and that same dull ache that never really went away clawed its way back to the surface.

"We're going out tonight!" Suzy announced as she breezed into the living room of your shared dorm.

"Who is?" You asked, confused.

"We are. The three of us." She threw you a look that dared you to say 'no' and carried on so you wouldn't have time to protest. "Lucas invited us to a bar with his friends tonight so I've decided to take you out to have some fun."

"Fun?" You weren't sure about Suzy's idea of fun; it usually involved a lot of drinking and dancing and, more often than not, making fools of yourselves.

"Yes. Fun. That thing you never have anymore. It's about time you got back out there instead of moping around this place. You might even meet someone nice - Lucas has a lot of hot friends, you know." She added with a cheeky wink. "So get in your room and get ready now. I want a hot-looking Y/N in one hour. Jina, that goes for you too!"

"Yes, ma'am!" Jina mock-saluted and headed towards her room, laughing.

You weren't opposed to going out; maybe it would help but you didn't care about meeting anyone. You knew very well how good-looking Lucas's friends were and you used to think Johnny might have a thing for you but you weren't there yet.

The bar itself was really nice and the music wasn't too noisy so you could still have a conversation without having to shout. It had an 80's vibe with coloured neon tube-lights and music of the era but didn't overdo it, still being able to pass for a normal bar rather than a themed one. As soon as you were there, Suzy made a beeline for Lucas and virtually leapt into his arms, kissing him passionately; given their size difference he easily caught and lifted her up when she jumped, wrapping her legs around his middle. They were a really cute couple, you thought; him tall and blonde and Suzy smaller with dyed red-hair. You and Jina followed along, greeting him once she'd let him go and getting introduced to any of his friends that you didn't know already.  

You were actually having a pretty good time, surprisingly, Lucas's friends were fun and made you feel welcome. Some of them might have been a bit too eager to make you - and Jina - feel welcome and you suspected it was to do with what you were wearing and you knew you looked good. Your blue dress wasn't too revealing but it clung in the right places and emphasised your curves and you'd completed the look with a pair of high heels. You may not have been interested in catching anyone's eye but you still liked to look nice because it always made you feel more confident. Jina, however, was loving all the attention she was getting from the boys and was flirting shamelessly, making you laugh to yourself - something you hadn't done much of in months. An hour or so in the drink caught was making it's way through you and you decided to head to the bathroom but, as you wound your way through the crowd of people, you heard something that made you stop in your tracks. You knew that familiar, deep voice all too well and it cut through you like a knife.

You looked to where the voice came from and saw Mingi sitting with some blonde girl on one side of a booth with Seonghwa and a brunette on the other, looking very much like they were double-dating. Your heart twisted painfully as you watched the blonde girl very evidently flirting with him and taking every opportunity to stroke his arm or put her hand on his broad chest. As you stood there dumbstruck, Mingi looked around and you could see the shock cross his handsome face as he registered you standing there.

"Y/N." He called your name almost apologetically, like he'd been caught doing something but you weren't hanging around to find out what he had to say; you almost ran to the bathroom and flew into one of the stalls breathing hard. You sat there processing the situation - so what if he was on a date with some girl? He can do whatever he wants - he's a free man. It wasn't for you to care anymore, you said 'goodbye' to him. You can't afford to care now, you'd come so far trying to move on. Like this you reasoned yourself into a kind of calm and made your way back to your friends, taking a route in which you wouldn't walk past him again. It must have been a little obvious that you weren't quite ok as Johnny seemed to notice but then he had been paying you a fair bit of attention tonight.

"Are you ok? You look a little pale."

"Yeah, I'm fine..." you lied as best you could, "Just need another drink is all."

"Comin' right up!" Johnny smiled and ordered you another Purple Rain cocktail while you forced yourself to look happy and normal. You drank the drink pretty quickly and ordered another, hoping the alcohol might ease the ache in your chest that had now returned with a vengeance.

                                                     ********

Mingi POV

"Mingi....Mingi!"

"Oh.. uh.... what?"

"Dammit, Mingi, I've been talking to you for the last five minutes - why are you never with it anymore?" Hongjoong asked, exasperated with his roomate's behaviour.

Yeosang snorted, "We all know why he's never with it anymore."

"Shut up, Yeosang!" Mingi spat back at the smaller blonde man.

Hongjoong sighed and looked at Mingi with concern in his eyes, "Mingi, we're all worried about you. You don't sleep properly, you either mope around the dorm or you stay out partying all night long.....and we've all noticed how much you're drinking these days."

So what if he was? Mingi was tired of his friends' interfering. Why couldn't they just leave him alone?

"You know what you need?" Seonghwa added as he plopped down on to the couch next to Mingi, "You need a good fuck."

"Oh my God - that's your answer to everything, Hwa!" Hongjoong despaired, throwing his hands in the air at the oldest member of their friend group. "He needs to deal with his feelings, not hook up with random girls."

"No, it's exactly what he needs." Seonghwa turned his attention over to Mingi now, "Get back on the horse, bro; you haven't been with anyone since Y/N." The mere mention of your name caused Mingi's heart to clench and the pained look on his face didn't go unnoticed by his friends.

"Getting back out there and meeting girls is the best way to forget about her and move on." Except Mingi didn't want to forget about you.

"How on Earth would you know, Hwa?" Yeosang interrupted, laughing, "You've never had your heart broken. In fact, do you even have a heart to break?"

Yeosang laughed harder at the rude gesture Seonghwa threw his way as he replied, "You're just jealous I get laid so much more than you do, Sangie. It's the safest way - if you don't get attached, you can't get hurt."

"Hwa's right!" Mingi jumped up, surprising them all, "If that's what it takes to prove to you all that I'm fine and stop you nagging at me, I'll do it."

"Great! I'm seeing this new girl tonight so I'll ask her to bring a friend along for you." Seonghwa grabbed his phone and started texting, "Go get ready, Min."

A few hours later Mingi was seated in a booth next to some blonde girl he'd just met with Seonghwa and a brunutte opposite them. He had started to realise that Hwa was not right, after all. He didn't want to be here with this vapid girl that was meant to be his date and, to be honest, he'd already forgotten her name. The girls Seonghwa hung around with were all very pretty but he didn't look for much more than that - why would he when he never intended to get to know them? To him, the girls he dated were just for a fun night - maybe a few if he liked them enough - they never lasted long. Seonghwa was tall, dark haired and, arguably, the best looking of them all; his aura just seemed to attract girls without him even trying.

Mingi couldn't help but compare this girl to you; you were beautiful and intelligent. You could have fun together and proper conversations, you had a connection - this girl was so dull, just talking about celebrities and clothes...he really didn't know how Seonghwa could bear it just to get his dick sucked at the end of the night.

He really was trying his best to be friendly and polite but this stupid girl just kept pawing at him, laughing at anything he said as if it were the funniest thing she'd ever heard. He downed his third drink and ordered another just to try to get through this ordeal.

As he was getting through the fourth drink, Mingi felt eyes on him, turning around he saw you standing there looking back at him and the girl. You looked so beautiful to him, in the blue dress he used to love on you the most but he couldn't look away from your face and the look of utter hurt in your eyes.

"Y/N..." He called out, throwing the girl's arm off himself, but to no avail. You darted towards the bathroom and away from him.

"Is that girl someone you know?" The blonde asked him with almost a jealous tone to her voice.

"Just...stop talking." He ground out, annoyed at her very presence, and stalked off towards the bar, downing his drink as he went.

Once there Mingi ordered another drink and two shots; he didn't want to feel what he was feeling and alcohol had become the only thing that came close to helping. Why did he feel like he'd been caught cheating on you? It was you who left him! He laughed bitterly at himself for ever thinking that if he just pretended to be fine, he eventually would be. It had been months now and the hole in his heart was still just as raw.  

"Min..." Seonghwa appeared beside him, "What are you doing?"

"Hwa, I know you're trying to help but I can't do this." Mingi said, downing the shots one after the other as  Seonghwa stood there, eyebrows raised in concern.

"You're going to have to move on at some point, Min... It looks like Y/N is." Seonghwa said gently, tilting his head in your direction.

Mingi looked to where  his friend nodded and felt anger rise up in his chest as he watched you take a purple cocktail from Johnny, laughing at something he'd just said. He couldn't stand this; just the thought of Johnny - anyone - taking his place at your side, holding you, kissing you, touching you..... No! He wouldn't even think of it. He couldn't bear to. Mingi downed his last drink and marched towards the door, leaving his friend just staring after him.

Next morning, Mingi woke up feeling sick, not knowing if it were more from the alcohol or the memories of seeing you looking happy and carefree with Johnny. As far as he could see, you didn't look close enough to be an item but who knows? The thought of you with another man still filled him with anger but you weren't his anymore. He had to get used to that.

He texted Seonghwa to apologise for running out so suddenly.

It's ok, bro, I understand why you didn't want to be there anymore. Came the reply, followed quickly by,

Oh.. and don't worry, I made sure your date had a good time ; )

Mingi laughed to himself, thankful for Hwa's easygoing nature.

                                                     ********

You sat with Suzy and Lucas at the breakfast table next morning, Lucas had stayed over and made pancakes for the three of you and you sat eating and chatting about the night before.

"Jina really went home with Jaehyun?" You asked wide-eyed. You'd thought she was sleeping in and that was why you hadn't seen her yet this morning.

"Yeah," Suzy giggled, "...She's had her eye on him for some time; I guess she must've felt brave enough to make a move last night."

"Wow, good for her, I guess." You said forking another bit of maple syrup covered pancake into your mouth.

"Jaehyun's a nice guy," Lucas added, "he'll be good to her."

You sat quietly as Suzy and her boyfriend talked together about the events of last night. The ever-present dull ache throbbed as your mind replayed the image of Mingi with the blonde girl's hands all over him. He wasn't yours anymore, you told yourself, he could see anyone he wanted to.

Your only concern now had to be trying to get through your exams and graduate and you couldn't afford to be distracted by anything else if you were going to do that. You finished up your pancake and cleared your plate into the sink, thanking Lucas for making it as you went.

"What are your plans today, Y/N?" Suzy asked.

"Oh, I think I'll just study; I'm still a little behind on my coursework and I'll have no hope of graduating if I don't get this done."

"Ok...work hard!" Suzy chirped as you wandered back into your bedroom.

You'd done it. You'd got through your exams and were graduating. It had been really hard and you'd had to keep forcing yourself to concentrate on your studies because Mingi was never far from your thoughts. It was easier being without him now than it was in those first months but the dull ache never entirely went away - always reminding you of it's presence if ever you caught a glimpse of him around campus. Jina and Suzy had done their best to pull you through it but you found yourself having to accept the reality that the pain would now always be a part of you. You ached for Mingi, to be back in his arms, but you knew he wasn't right for you. He didn't feel the same.

The actual day of graduation passed by in a blur - the calling of names and collecting of certificates had been terribly boring but you'd daydreamed your way through most of it, having to be nudged by Jina when you missed your name being called. Your parents had come along and taken you out to dinner - just like everyone else's parents so the restaurants were packed. Despite trying your best not to think about Mingi over the last few months you had decided to talk to Yunho about him briefly during class.

"Yunho?"

"Yeah?"

"Do you think you could do me a big favour?" You ventured nervously. You were close to Yunho from sharing classes with him all throughout college but he was still Mingi's best friend so you weren't sure how this would go down with him.

"Uhh...sure. Well...depends what it is." He laughed, flashing his blindingly bright smile at you. You'd always thought he was kind of cute but now his dyed blonde hair started to grow out and his natural black peeked through he was even more good-looking.

"Could you try to find out where Mingi and his parents are planning to go for his graduation meal?" Yunho looked a little surprised so you tried to explain your request. "It's just that...I don't want to run into him because I know it will be awkward. Our parents will probably start to chat because they used to be friends when we were dating and I don't think I could deal with that."

A look of sympathy crossed Yunho's face and he reached out from his seat next to you and rubbed his had up and down your back in a reassuring manner. "Sure, Y/N. I'll do my best."

Yunho had come through so you were able to relax at dinner, knowing you wouldn't have to deal with the unwanted situation.

Although the dinner was nice and it was lovely to see your parents after a long time, you were more excited about the bigger celebration tomorrow; it was generally tradition for the graduates to go to out clubbing the day after (given that the parents wanted to celebrate on the day itself) but the next night you could really unwind and enjoy yourselves. You were a bit sad because the end of college meant your best friends would be moving on with their lives but you were trying to see it as an opportunity yourself - you felt like this city was your home so you wouldn't physically be moving but, metaphorically, you could move on from this last painful period of your life.

The next morning you saw your parents and wished them a good journey home; they had moved since you started college so they were further away than they used to be and didn't want to make the drive home late at night. They stayed in a hotel overnight and you met them for breakfast before seeing them off but once they were gone you started to get excited about the evening to come. You, Jina and Suzy had made reservations at a salon to have manicures and pedicures, and get your make up done; partly because you wanted a treat but also to spend the day being pampered with your two best friends before you wouldn't have them in your life so much anymore. You also went to get your hair done - nothing drastic, just a trim and professional blow dry - you wanted to look great tonight and you'd never felt you were any good at doing your own hair. A new dress and heels and you were ready.

The chosen club was the favourite one for the students to visit, it played the best music and didn't charge a fortune for drinks - best of all though, it had a 2-for-1 offer on cocktails and shots, knowing all the students would flock there for their post-graduation celebration. As you walked in you felt amazing, your dress was a black, sparkly material, fitted in all the right places and shorter than you normally went for. You matched it with strappy, black stilettos with a glitter heel and subtle silver jewellery. It wasn't just your look that made you feel amazing, you just felt better than you had in a long time; maybe it was optimism for a fresh start.

As the night wore on, the drinks kept flowing and you were well on your way to being drunk and having a great time with your own group of revellers. You, Jina and Suzy were there with Lucas and his usual friends but he'd also brought along some others from his course who you'd never met before. You'd normally be shy around new people and keep to yourself but the alcohol and excited atmosphere made you braver and you were all happily dancing together. There was one guy in particular who seemed to have taken a liking to you and was dancing very close, trying to grind on you; you were happy to dance with him but politely tried to keep a distance between you. After a while he was getting a bit too handsy so you excused yourself to go get a water from the bar. It was there that you spotted the one person you had hoped not to see and he was heading in your direction right now. As he approached you noticed he had cut his black hair slightly shorter than before and had a fringe. A lot of students chose to dye their hair bright colours but you loved Mingi's naturally black hair - with that and his beautiful dark eyes and plump pink lips, you'd always thought he looked stunning.  Just to make it harder for you he had worn a dark blue shirt with the first two buttons undone so you could see the thin silver chain he wore draped across his well defined collarbones and it made your heart beat a little faster.

"Y/N, can we talk?"

You looked up at Mingi, wishing all the feelings you had been trying to supress for the last few months weren't trying to claw their way to the surface.

"I don't think that's a good idea." You said, looking away from him, still waiting for your turn to get served.

"Oh, but dancing provocatively with your arse in some dude's crotch is a good idea to you?"

You snapped your head up and stared at him in shock. Was he really doing this?

"What has it got to do with you if I do, Mingi?" You were starting to get angry, he can't just decide to start caring now after taking you for granted for so long.

"Maybe I just don't like seeing some other guy with his hands all over my girlfriend." He said, raising his already naturally loud voice a little, making the few people in earshot look round curiously.  

"Except I'm not your girlfriend, am I?" You spat at him and the look of hurt that flashed over his features sent a pain through your heart - or was it really the fact that you weren't his that was hurting you?.

"Y/N...please." He looked like a hurt puppy and your resolve wavered - only for a moment, though, because you remembered the blonde at the bar and anger rose up in your chest again.

"You think can go out and date random girls with Seonghwa but get to tell me who I can and can't dance with?"

"What? That stupid girl from the bar? I just went on that date to stop Hwa bugging me about it and I left just after I saw you there. I never wanted her - I only want you!" The look Mingi gave you was so earnest you wanted to believe him but the truth was he had hurt you so much.

The bartender came then to take your order. You should've just asked for the water you came for but the dull ache you had come to live with was turning into a sharp, tearing pain again.

"Two shots of tequila, please." Mingi waited silently beside you while you got your drinks and paid. When you were done he grabbed your arm, trying to stop you from leaving.

"Y/N... Please give me another chance." He looked so broken but you couldn't go back to him, back to being neglected and ignored.

You downed both shots and put the glasses back on the bar. Steeling yourself against the pained look he was giving you, you turned and looked up into the face of the man you knew, deep down, you still loved but were still too angry at.

"No, Mingi. I can't."

You walked back to the dance floor, knowing full well what you were doing was petty, and started dancing with that same guy whose name you didn't even know. This time you did dance provocatively and you let him grind against you. You knew Mingi was watching you, you could see him looking over at you while he drank with his seven friends. It was a bad idea, you knew that but you wanted Mingi to know that he didn't own you. You were his once but he ruined it.

You were having a lot of fun but eventually you started to feel the alcohol catching up to you as your movements became less co-ordinated. It was pretty late anyway so you told Suzy and Jina you were calling it a night.

"Do you want us to come with you?" Jina asked but you knew they were still a long way off from being done.

"I'll be fine; there are still lots of people on the streets and I won't go through any secluded areas." You promised.

Hugs were exchanged and you stumbled you way through the mass of clubbers to get to the door. Outside you stopped a little way from the club and enjoyed the feeling of the cool night air on your hot skin.

"Hey." You turned in the direction of the male voice to find the guy you had been dancing with had followed you out of the club.

"Oh. Hi." You said uneasily, hoping he didn't want what you thought he might.

"So I thought we could go back to my place and have a little more fun, yeah?" He took a few steps closer to you with a look in his eyes that made you uncomfortable.

"I'd really rather go home alone, thank you." You said as confidently as you could despite feeling anxious, hoping he would accept your refusal and leave you alone.  

He closed the distance running his hand down your arm and closing his hand around your wrist. "You see...I don't really think it's fair for you to tease me all night like that and then not give me a little something." You swallowed nervously, looking around and trying to think of how to get out of this awful situation.

"Don't you agree?" He added a little menacingly, leaning in closer to you.

The male tightened his grip on your wrist and started to pull you in the direction of a nearby side street; it was dark with no one down there and panic started to rise up in your chest, causing it to tighten horribly.

If you were able to think rationally you would have screamed to alert the other people on the streets that something was wrong but the fear had gripped you and all you could manage was a futile attempt at breaking free of this man's hold. He wasn't huge but you were still small compared to him, in height and build and his grip was firm.

As he pulled you, stumbling because of your stilettos and the alcohol, into the side street you managed to find your voice and, as loudly as you could muster with the fear still constricting your throat, you tried to shout, "Let me go! I don't want this!"

The man didn't listen to you, he simply stopped some way down the dark street and pushed your back up against the wall, holding you in place.

"Get your hands off her NOW!" His voice was low and full of anger but it was so beautiful to you in this moment.

"Get lost. She's mine tonight." The man said not even looking in the direction of the intruder but still looking directly at you with a nasty smile on his face.

All of a sudden he was yanked back away from you; he still had one of his hands on your wrist and pulled you over as he flew back.

"Are you ok?" Mingi asked, scanning your face. His voice held none of the anger it had a moment ago as he spoke gently to you. You let Mingi pull you up and steady you on your feet, feeling just a slight pain in your knee as it had been grazed by the fall.

"What's your problem, dude? I'm just trying to have a little fun."

The anger flashed over Mingi's face again as he straightened up and turned to the man and before you knew it he punched him hard in the face, the man stumbling and falling to the ground. Mingi turned back to you and gently said, "Let's go." and you could see he was doing his very best to hold in his fury. It already made him angry to think of another man touching you but to do so without your consent - and to hurt you, as well - took him beyond angry.

"She's just a tease anyway. If she's gonna act like a whore, she'll get treated like one." The man angrily called out after your retreating backs but Mingi couldn't let that pass, he wanted this scum to be sorry he ever touched you. He let you go and strode back to the man who was still sitting on the pavement, he grabbed his collar roughly in his left hand and started raining punches down on him. You stumbled your way over the uneven paving stones to try to calm him before he did any real damage but Mingi was in a rage; the man now lying on the ground having his face pounded by both of Mingi's large fists as he straddled his body.

"Mingi, please!" You cried out, worried someone would see this. The man was scum and didn't deserve any better given what he would've done to you but you didn't want Mingi getting into trouble because of his temper.

"MINGI, STOP!" He finally stopped, breathing hard and looked down at the bloody man under him. He was nowhere near calm but he let you lead him away.

You walked mostly silent back to your dorm, holding Mingi's arm for support with just the occasional query from him as to how you felt and if you were hurt, to which you tried to reassure him that you were fine now and it was just a graze. At your dorm you invited Mingi inside, partly because you didn't want him going off still so angry and partly to clean him up - his knuckles were cut and bloody and, at some point, the man must've got at least one punch in as you could see a fresh cut on Mingi's lip.

You sat Mingi on the couch as you prepared some water, cotton wool and antiseptic spray to treat his wounds. As he sat there with his head in his hands you could see the amount of anger still bubbling inside him.

"Mingi, I'm ok. Really." You said gently, startling him as he hadn't heard your approach.

"I'm not." He said simply. "I wanted to kill that guy for what he was trying to do to you."

Not knowing what to say to that you simply took one of Mingi's big hands in yours and started to clean the blood off his knuckles before gently drying them and spraying a little antiseptic over the cut skin. You laughed lightly when he hissed at the sting of it.

"So you can take the pain of repeatedly punching a man in the face until your knuckles bleed but you can't deal with a little stinging?"

Mingi smiled but it didn't reach his eyes, "You've calmed me down a bit now. The anger overtook me so much back there, I guess I didn't feel the pain."

You didn't reply, just moved quietly on to his other hand, cleaning it as he sat on the couch with his eyes closed and his head laid back. You smiled to yourself when he fussed about the antiseptic again.

Mingi looked up when you gently started to dab at the cut on his lip with wet cotton wool. While you were concentrating on cleaning off the blood, you could see that Mingi was staring intently at your face. A couple of times you looked up at him from you position next to him - kneeling on the couch but sitting back on your feet - and each time your eyes met you could see something blazing in his beautiful, dark eyes. It was definitely affection but you didn't know if it was love; that was something you had been sure he didn't have for you anymore. You looked closer at Mingi, looked into those intense, dark eyes that you loved so much and thought that maybe he did still love you.

Although, you knew it was a bad idea, you slowly leaned up and gently kissed the corner of his lip where he was cut. "Thank you for saving me." you added softly.

Mingi looked at you for a few seconds before grabbing your face with his large hands and pulling you in for a kiss; asking for entry with his tongue as he licked across your bottom lip. You knew it was wrong but you gave in and melted into it, kissing him back eagerly. You'd never been able to let go of your feelings for Mingi, even though you'd tried to bury them and, in your still slightly drunken state you didn't have the strength to deny him.

Mingi placed his hands firmly around your waist and pulled you onto his lap so you were straddling him, your short, black dress riding further up so the only barrier between you and the growing bulge in his trousers was your delicate underwear. He left your lips and kissed along your jawline, moving to your neck, pulling a gasp from you as he sucked hard against your soft skin. You couldn't help yourself and started grinding your core against him, feeling the bulge grow harder still underneath you. Mingi grabbed a hold of your dress and pulled it over your head in one fluid motion, almost growling as he took in the sight of you in your matching black lace bra and brazillian panties.

"I've missed you so much, Y/N. You have no idea how much I want you right now." His rough voice was deeper than you'd ever heard it and it sent shivers down your spine, the excitement making your core clench instinctively and wetness start to pool. As you moaned his name, Mingi unclasped your bra and tossed it to the floor, immediately latching his mouth onto one of your hard nipples while his large hand caressed the other breast before pulling harshly at your delicate nub with his thumb and forefinger. You let out a loud moan and ground down harder against his clothed erection wanting to feel more friction on your heated core and Mingi, knowing what you wanted so well by now, lifted you slightly and slipped his hand under the waistband of your panties and entered your warm, wet hole with his long fingers, reaching deeper than you ever could yourself.

The only thing you could hear was your own moans of pleasure and the wet sound of Mingi's fingers fucking in and out of you harshly. Suddenly Mingi lifted you into his strong arms and carried you into your bedroom, while you kissed down his neck, taking in the familiar scent of his cologne. He laid you on the bed and slid your panties off you, groaning as he took in the sight of your bare, wet pussy. Mingi crawled between you legs, firmly grabbing one in each hand and spread them further apart. Slowly he placed wet kisses along your inner thighs but gradually something more animalistic came over him and he started to mark you, biting and sucking hard and making bruises start to appear almost instantly. He ran his mouth all the way up from your soft inner thighs to the delicate skin between your thighs and your aching pussy and, finally, pulling you closer to him roughly he marked his way over your hips. He was like an animal that had fought and won for his mate and you loved that he was now marking you as his own before he took you as his own, too.

Marking complete, Mingi dove between your legs and licked all the way up your smooth, wet folds. You moaned out loud in pleasure as he finally slipped his tongue between them and straight into your tight hole, lapping up your juices and moaning against you.

"You taste so sweet, Baby. You don't know how badly I've wanted this." The vibration of his deep voice quickly drove you to the edge and when Mingi moved his mouth up to suck hard on your swollen clit you thought you were going to explode right then. Mingi shoved two of his long fingers back inside your entrance, which was now soaking with both your own wetness and his saliva, curling them up to hit your sweet spot and you couldn't contain it any longer. Intense pleasure flooded over you as Mingi continued to suck and lick sloppily at your clit while pumping his long fingers into you at a maddening pace, forcing your release to continue on for longer and longer. As you finally started to come down from the high, your body shuddered at the overwhelming sensitivity and you had to gently push Mingi's head away from your abused clit.

"Did you enjoy that, Angel?" He growled out lowly, "I've missed having my tongue inside you so much."

"But I'll bet you've missed my tongue on your cock so much more." You teased, blinking up at him through your lashes. Mingi always loved when you looked innocent but said the dirtiest things. He quickly undressed, stripping everything off entirely and you felt a thrill of excitement as you took in the sight of his hard dick standing against his lower stomach, pre-cum glistening on the tip.

"Let me take care of you, Mingi." You purred as you took his hands and pulled him down to lay on your bed. You crawled between his legs and gave him a long, sultry look as you lowered your head and kissed his wet tip. Mingi groaned at the sight of his pre-cum staining your lips and grabbed the back of your head, pulling it down, desperate to feel those soft lips around his cock. You happily obliged, wrapping your wet lips around the head and licking at the sensitive spot just under the rim. You felt his dick twitch in response but pulled away, only to lick all the way up the underside and finish with a flick against the rim again.  

"Oh God...please!" Mingi was never good at being teased, always desperate to be inside you already so you gave him exactly what he wanted and, in one smooth motion, took his entire length in your mouth.

"Oh...fuck!" Mingi's cries of pleasure filled the air as you bobbed your head up and down, dragging your mouth almost all the way up to the tip only to slide right back down until he was hitting the back of your throat.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck!" The sounds of you gagging on his cock were the most beautiful to Mingi and you knew how much he loved it so you deep-throated him as best you could, which wasn't easy given how big he was. You pulled away for air when you felt him start to twitch more, knowing he was close and you crawled up to straddle him, rubbing your bare heat against his throbbing member.

"Mingi, I want you inside me." You whispered in his ear as you bit on his earlobe then moved down to bite and suck on his neck, leaving marks of your own.

He groaned in frustration, "Baby, I don't have any protection on me. I didn't expect this to happen."

You didn't have anything either, having not been with anyone since him but drunken desire took over you, drowning out the tiny sober voice in the back of your head which told you this was an incredibly stupid idea.

"Mingi! I need you. Please fuck me."

Being somewhat impaired himself, Mingi didn't have the willpower to resist, he flipped you over and held himself above you with one hand beside your head and the other stroking his hard dick. He positioned himself at your entrance and stroked his tip up and down your wet slit to lubricate himself before slowly sliding in to you. The feeling of sheer pleasure overwhelmed you as you felt his thick cock stretching your walls to accommodate it and you clenched around him instinctively.

"Shit...I forgot how tight you are." He breathed out as he pushed all the way in as far as he could.

"And I forgot... aaahhh...how big and thick you are...." you cried out as Mingi hit your G-spot perfectly. He had always been big - and perhaps it was just because you'd missed him being inside you so much - but right now he felt huge and you wondered how on Earth he was fitting in your tight little hole.

Mingi leaned down and kissed you deeply, never stopping his hard, deep thrusts. His soft lips moved down to your neck leaving wet kisses down your hot skin until he reached your collarbone and resumed marking you.

"God, I love your tight cunt." He growled out between kisses as he continued to thrust hard and fast. The feeling of Mingi's big, hard cock sliding in and out of your aching core was more than you could bear and the intensity of it overtook all your senses until you couldn't feel anything else but him.

"This sweet little cunt belongs to me." He said as he continued to fuck you roughly. "Tell me you haven't let anyone else touch you. Tell me you're still mine." Mingi's voice was a mix of possessive and desperate as he begged you for reassurance.

"Mingi..." you panted out as he continued to rock his hips against yours, "There was never anyone else but you."

"Tell me you're mine." He demanded, his deep, powerful voice forcing you into submission.

"I'm yours, Mingi. I'm all yours." A tiny part of you knew this was all a bad idea but it felt so right. Mingi being inside you made you feel complete and, for once, you couldn't feel that dull ache in your chest anymore.

Mingi could feel you clenching around him and, knowing you were getting close again, he reached down between your boddies and began to circle your still very sensitive clit while whispering praises to you.

"That's it, beautiful girl, cum for me again." He let out a deep groan as he felt your walls convulse around him and your warm, wetness release all over his thick cock.

Chasing his own high, Mingi lifted your legs to rest over his shoulders so he could reach deeper inside you and his thrusts got harder but sloppier as he came ever closer to orgasm.

"Baby, you feel like Heaven...I wanna fill you up so badly." He was so close now and you desperately wanted him do it.

"Mingi, cum for me. Fill me up. Make me yours, Mingi." It was all he needed to hear and with a couple more thrusts he released deep inside you, filling you up with his hot, thick cum.

Mingi remained inside you as you both breathed heavily, coming down from your highs, before pulling out and laying beside you on the bed. He pulled you into his arms and, as you were succumbing to sleep, you could hear him murmuring,

"You're mine, Angel. You'll always be mine."

                                                    ********

As you woke to the sun's rays filtering through your window, you had a mixture of thoughts running through your mind as the memories of last night came flooding back. Mingi was laying next to you, still with an arm wrapped around you and he roused as he felt you moving to sit up.

"Good morning, Baby."

You smiled at him but it didn't reach your eyes. You were so confused; what happened last night had felt so right but now you were entirely sober and could think about it clearly, you were scared. Mingi had hurt you before and it had taken so much to get over it that you were scared to let it happen again.

"Y/N, what's up?" He could see by your expression that something was wrong but didn't know where your thoughts were taking you.

"Mingi...What happened last night. It shouldn't have."

"What are you talking about?" He asked, confused.

"We can't be together. You hurt me before, I can't go back to that - I can't go through that again."

"Baby, you're mine." He said desperately, "You said you were mine." In his eyes you could see tears forming, shaking your resolve. You couldn't bear to see him like that so you looked down at your hands which were in your lap, playing with your fingers anxiously.

"I can't be yours anymore, Mingi. Last night...we were both drunk." You said it gently, willing him to understand.

"I may have been a little drunk but I know it wasn't a mistake. I love you, Y/N."

"I'm sorry, Mingi. Please...just go." The words sounded wrong in your ears but you were so scared of being hurt again.

"Don't do this to me again. I can't be without you, Baby." His deep voice sounded so desperate but you couldn't look at him, couldn't afford to let him change your mind.

"I'm so sorry." Despite the tears falling, the finality in your tone told him that you meant it. You felt the bed move as he got up and heard the rustle of his clothes as he picked them up and silently dressed. You held in your sobs until you had heard the front door close, knowing if he heard how broken you were he would come back. Once you were all alone you let all the pain debilitate you and sobbed into the pillow which smelled so much of the man you still loved.

                                                      ********

Mingi POV

Hongjoong and Yunho looked up as their other roomate walked in the door looking disheveled.

"Hey! Where did you go last night? You suddenly disappeared." The shorter of the two asked.

They watched as Mingi silently walked to the kitchen side and picked up the half-drunk bottle of bourbon sitting there. Unscrewing the cap and tossing it onto the side, he took a long swig. He hissed slightly as the alcohol stung the cut on his lip, causing some of the brown liquid to drip down onto his shirt.

As your ex-boyfriend walked towards his room, the bourbon bottle gripped tight in his hand, his two best friends really took in the state of him - cuts all over his knuckles, a cut on his lip which was starting to bruise.

"Mingi, what the hell happened to you?" Yunho called out, alarmed.

"Just....leave me alone."

[gwentoryfics]

Hot for Teacher, Part 9

GENRE | College Student x College Professor Smut AU

PAIRING | Reader x Hongseok x Hyunggu (Kino) x Wooseok

WORDS | 13.5k (oops)

SUMMARY | You never realized how much one drunken night could color the rest of your college experience until you discover that the handsome stranger from your cousin’s wedding is also the new professor at your university.

WARNINGS | Swearing. Angggssstttt. Explicit smut. Penetrative sex. Oral sex (female receiving). 

PARTS | 1 • 2 • 3 • 4 • 5 • 5.5 • 6 • 7 • 8 • 9 • More Coming Soon

NOTE | This one was so hard to write! Thank you as always for your patience 💕 I’ll be waiting 24 hours to answer any asks you peaches send in so as not to spoil anything for other readers, but please let me know what you think! Also let me know if you’d like to be added to the tag list.

TAGS | @day6grams, @heyheydee7, @hhhongseok, @jinjinmyworld, @kkxn0​, @precious-seungwooya​, @seraplantery​, @the-deviant-world​, @yeosang-ponytail​

You wake up in the morning in a bed that’s clearly not your own and a smile comes to your lips when you remember everything that happened last night. You never imagined that you’d have such a crazy night with Yanan and Changgu, but you don’t regret it for one second. You give yourself a moment to stretch before climbing out of Changgu’s bed, noticing the mellow soreness in your muscles.

You slip on your clothes from the party and head out to the common area of the apartment, where Yanan and Changgu are both hard at work in the kitchen. 

“Good morning,” you sing-song, still feeling satisfied from last night.

Both boys turn around and smile at you. Yanan coos, “Morning, sweetheart.”

The pet name sends a tingle through you.

Changgu whisks something in a bowl as he greets you. “I was just about to make some scrambled eggs. Want some?”

“Yes, please.” You smile warmly and plop yourself down on one of the barstools at the kitchen island. 

Yanan prepares a second cup of coffee and places it in front of you. “You’re in awfully high spirits this morning.”

“Yeah, thank you for that,” you raise an eyebrow as you blow on the top of your steaming coffee. Yanan gives you a flirty grin before drinking his own coffee and then peeling off to grab some fresh fruit from the refrigerator. 

Changgu pours the eggs into a frying pan and starts cooking up your breakfast. “Glad to hear you had fun last night. You certainly seemed to be enjoying yourself.”

“It was… great.” There are a million stronger adjectives you could use, such as amazing, incredible, magical, mind-blowing… but you don’t want to boost their egos too much. “Do you guys do this often?”

Changgu shrugs. “It’s sort of an occasional thing. Our tastes in women don’t always overlap, unfortunately. And even if we find someone we’re both interested in, she might not be interested in both of us.”

You hum and nod. It definitely doesn’t seem like something that could just magically fall into place super frequently. But based off of last night, you’re willing to bet that both boys are impressive lovers even on their own. They were each so attentive and responsive, and the amount of aftercare you received when you finally wrapped up the night made the whole night absolutely heavenly.

“So _____,” Yanan leans over the island, pushing a bowl of fruit your way. “I meant to ask last night, but you’re old enough to come out with us to Andy’s next time, right?”

You frown slightly. “Not quite. I just turned twenty, so I technically have another year. Although I do have a fake ID that works just fine as long as there’s no one there to call me out on it.”

He scoffs, clearly remembering the run-in with Professor Yang that ruined the night last time you went out with them. “Yeah, Hongseok really knows how to ruin a good time, doesn’t he?”

“Why do you insist on calling him by his first name?” It catches you off guard every time, especially because the professor has been so explicit about his preferences when it comes to the way students address him. You’re willing to bet that, based on the way he and Yanan interacted and the fact that Yanan uses his first name, they must know each other outside of school. “Do you have something against him?”

Yanan takes a long sip of his coffee before responding. “Perhaps I do. But I’ll tell you this, he sure as hell started it.”

You raise an eyebrow, intrigued. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Changgu pipes up as he transfers the eggs to a plate. “That’s a pretty big can of worms you’re trying to open.”

“Well you can’t just say something like that and expect me not to be curious! Now I need to know.”

Yanan pulls up a stool. “I went to a different school for a year and a half before transferring here. Washington University.”

You immediately recognize the university as being the most prestigious school in the city. It’s stupid expensive, and it’s really hard to get in. “You went to Washington?”

He nods. “And so did Hongseok. I met him there while he was getting his Masters degree. We both worked in the Mathematics Department office.” Yanan bites down onto a strawberry. “We got along okay, but I wouldn’t say we were ever friends. Our work schedules occasionally overlapped and we were cordial with each other. But one day he heard me bragging to a friend about how I’d slept with my Economics professor to boost my grade. Business school wasn’t for me, so I did what I could to make it a little easier.”

Your eyes widen and you’re struck with something that feels kind of like… panic? “You slept with your professor?”

“I did,” he responds proudly. “And then Hongseok turned me in to the Dean. She got fired and I lost all of my scholarship money, so I transferred. What are the odds that he’d end up over here too?” He chuckles darkly.

Yanan interrupts your train of thought. “I think he was just pissed because he worked so hard and he didn’t think it was fair that I was trying to take the easy way out. To that, I say that nothing in life is fair and he needs to get over himself.”

You try to seem as natural as possible despite the slight discomfort seeping into your bones. “Oh man, I can’t believe you had to transfer because of all that. That basically changed your whole future, right?”

“It did, but I’m not terribly torn up about it.” Yanan dismisses the thought with a wave of his hand. “I had fun with my professor, but I’ve enjoyed my time at this school more than I ever did at Washington. It might be less prestigious, and I might be getting a music degree instead of a business degree, but I didn’t ever have much interest in business anyway.”

You nod slowly, at least glad to hear that Yanan’s doing okay. “You still seem to have a bit of a grudge towards Professor Yang, though.”

“That I do. Not just because he turned me in, though. I don’t particularly like the way he looks down on me all the time. He’s got a real ego problem.”

“You’ve got that right,” you murmur, thinking about the way Professor Yang first confronted you at the beginning of the year, how he assumed you must have been obsessively crushing on him to the point of intentionally seducing him at the wedding. He does seem to be quite a bit self-absorbed.

Changgu speaks up. “What about you, _____? It seemed like you and Professor Yang were pretty familiar with each other.”

And just like that, your ease gives way to mild anxiety. “Oh, I’m just in his class.” You try to brush it off.

Changgu nods, but you’re not really sure that he believes you. He serves you your eggs. “You know, I followed the two of you outside when he insisted on sending you home. Things between you seemed… heated.”

“Mm,” you hum, letting yourself take a bite of your eggs as you scramble to come up with an excuse. “It was just all of the adrenaline from the surprise performance I had to give, you know. And it’s easy to just return his fire with fire, especially because, you know, he’s messed up my grades a few times and I’ve had to have multiple talks with him about that, so like, there’s just tension, you know, but it’s not really a big deal or anything...” Like an idiot you ramble and over-share, just like you always do when you’re put on the spot.

“I see.” Changgu raises an eyebrow.

Yanan’s brow furrows as he tries to comprehend the beans you just spilled. “You’re telling me that Hongseok, the mathematical genius, messed up your grades?”

“Yeah, it’s so stupid, right? I don’t know what his deal is.” You force out an awkward laugh and follow it with a lie to try to soften the damage you’ve done. “It happened with my friend, too... I think he must just get distracted while he’s grading or something. Who knows?”

Yanan seems unwilling to let it go as he presses, “He boosts your grades?”

You nod, completely incapable of thinking through actions or words before letting them happen. “Ah, yeah. But it’s kind of a mix, I guess.”

And then the shittiest grin comes to Yanan’s lips. “You’ve got to be kidding me. Don’t tell me he’s got a thing for you.”

It’s such an easy conclusion to come to, and you led him right to it. Now you’re totally frozen and unsure of how to respond. How are you supposed to answer that?

Changgu comes to your rescue, placing a hand on Yanan’s shoulder as he speaks. “Even if he does, it’s not her fault, and she doesn’t seem particularly comfortable with all of this, so why don’t we let it go? It’s all speculation, anyway.”

“Of course.” Yanan nods curtly, and an uncomfortable silence falls between the three of you.

The irony of this whole situation is not lost on you. If anything happens between you and Professor Yang, he’d be nothing less than a hypocrite now that you know he got Yanan in trouble for the same behavior. And if Yanan were to ever hear about it, you’re not confident that any interest he has in you would overshadow the opportunity for revenge. You’re just collateral damage in his feud with Professor Yang. 

Getting close to these boys might be more dangerous than you originally thought. 

Monday night rolls around, and you know you should be getting ready to head out for R&B ensemble… but instead you just anxiously pace through your living room, completely unsure if you can work up the courage to see Kino tonight.

You haven’t said a word to each other since your birthday party. He hasn’t even texted to indicate he wanted to walk with you to practice tonight, and you can’t say you blame him. You were kind of a huge dick to him after you kissed. You weren’t really in a good frame of mind to actually talk it through with him at the party, but the longer you wait to talk to him, the less of an excuse you have. You’re completely sober now, and you were yesterday, too. He’s one of your best friends - there’s no reason why you can’t talk to him about this. 

Really you know it’s because, no matter how close you are with him, you’re absolutely terrified about how badly the conversation could go.

You care about Kino so much. You honest-to-God love the kid. But do you care about him romantically? 

You pull your phone out and write out a quick text to Wooseok: Not feeling well, so I’m going to rest tonight. Can you tell teach I’m going to miss practice?

You just can’t work up the nerve to go in tonight.

Wooseok responds: No prob. U need anything?

You: No I’m ok, thank you though.

Wooseok: K. Rest up, short stuff.

Dropping your phone onto the couch, you resort to just jumping up and down because you’re so full of nervous energy. You don’t even want to start thinking about everything that’s transpired between you and Wooseok on top of your situation with Kino. He also hasn’t said much to you since the party, and you can’t help but wonder if it has anything to do with the fact that you ditched your own party to bang Yanan and Changgu.

That shouldn’t have bothered him since you agreed to only be friends, and it’s definitely not a decision you regret making. That night with the two seniors was incredible, even if the morning after took a turn for the worse.

Inevitably, your mind returns to Kino. You let out a low groan and burst into the bedroom where Nailah has been studying.

“Nailahhhhh,” you groan. “I don’t know what to do.”

Nailah holds up a finger and continues reading, and you just stand there jittering in silence while you wait for her to finish. After a solid thirty seconds that feels like five minutes, she snaps her textbook shut and looks up at you. “What’s wrong, boo?” 

“I have to talk to Kino but I don’t want to.”

“About what? The fact that you guys made out?”

You bite your lip and nod. “I haven’t talked to him since the party and I feel awful about it and I know that we need to just have a conversation but I’m terrified about what’ll happen and I honestly don’t even know how I feel?” Words come out of you stupidly fast as you try to express everything that you’re feeling.

She checks her phone, presumably to see what time it is. “Don’t you usually have a class tonight?”

“R&B Ensemble. I’m skipping. Not ready to see Kino yet.”

Nailah gives you a once-over, gets up from her bed, and starts digging through her dresser drawers. “You’ve got too much energy. Let’s go to the gym and work this out.”

“The gym?” Your mind briefly flashes back to the last time you went to the gym with her and you crossed paths with Professor Yang. That’s… potentially less of a problem right now. Hell, seeing Professor Yang working out would probably be a welcome distraction from everything with Kino. So what if he’s there? Besides, Nailah’s right - it would be nice to do something with all of this energy you’ve got right now. “Okay, yeah. Good idea.”

Nailah sits you down at the bicep curl machine and she squats in front of you while you try to do a few reps. “So talk to me about what happened. I know what I saw, but I want to hear it from you.”

You let out a strained exhale as you pull the handles up towards your chest. “I went out for some air, and Kino came out, and we were dancing to the music and I told him I love him.”

“What?” Her eyes widen.

“I do, though!” You pull up again. “Like the same way I love you, you know? And I think he took it to be something romantic, and then he kissed me. And I kissed him back.”

“Did you like it?”

Pull. “I did. He’s a good kisser.”

“But you’re conflicted.”

“Yeah.” Pull. “Because I don’t know if I like him that way. And I think he might like me that way. And what if I decide that I don’t like him that way, and then it ruins our friendship?”

“Is there a chance you might like him that way?”

You drop the handles. Is there? You think about all of the times you’ve hung out in practice rooms, all of the notes you send each other during class. And then you think about the dance showcase, the feeling of his fingers intertwined with yours, the press of his lips as he kissed your forehead that night. It’s undeniable that your heart beats a little faster as you think about him. “Shit. Maybe?”

“Okay.” Nailah nods. “Maybe isn’t a great answer.”

“I know,” you grumble. “That doesn’t give me any kind of clarity.”

“So just imagine that you talk to him about the kiss, and he tells you he likes you and he might even be interested in dating. How does that make you feel?” Nailah asks, and then she gestures to the machine to encourage you to keep going.

You pull up again. “I feel overwhelmed.”

“Now imagine that instead, he says that he was confused and he didn’t really mean it. He wants to stay friends. How does that make you feel?”

“...less overwhelmed.”

“That says a lot, doesn’t it?”

“But what if I’m only overwhelmed because it’s different, not because I dislike it?” Pull harder. “What if I’m less overwhelmed by staying friends just because that’s what I’m used to?”

“Well that’s something you’re going to have to examine. I don’t have the answer to that.” Nailah stands, crossing her arms over her chest.

You huff loudly, letting go of the bar again. “Why is this so difficult?”

“Are you telling me that you’re surprised that you don’t know what you want? Sweetie, indecision is your middle name,” she teases. “You made out with Kino and then slept with two other guys all in the same night. And don’t even get me started on whatever the hell is going on between you and that Wooseok kid.”

You feel your cheeks grow warm from embarrassment. “What do you mean? Why are you bringing up Wooseok?”

“I’m not dumb, _____. You’ve obviously got something going on with him. So ‘fess up.”

“Can I switch machines first?”

Nailah stands and gestures for you to come along. You sit side by side at two leg press machines, and you try not to feel intimidated by the amount of weight she sets on her machine. Once you’re both settled in, she looks over at you expectantly.

“So…” You try to figure out where to start, and then you decide you just need to dish the whole story. Besides, he’s already told Yuto about all of it, so you should get to have a confidante, too. “I offered to tutor him in music theory because he was struggling, and it was totally fine. Then one night he invited me over to his place when I was feeling particularly… feisty… and we got drunk and made out.”

“Ah, the Queen of Bad Decisions strikes again.” Nailah chuckles. “Continue.”

Her comment makes you roll your eyes, but it feels good that she’s so lighthearted about it. “So then we talked about it later and decided that we both would be okay with, like, occasionally hooking up in a totally casual way.”

She nods slowly. “You know, if I remember correctly, I believe I actually suggested you try hooking up with him, didn’t I?”

“Sure did,” you acknowledge with a flat tone, remembering the lunchtime conversation you had that feels like forever ago.

“And how long has this been going on?”

“Maybe like… a month and a half?”

“Okay, okay.” Nailah just keeps nodding. “Obviously I approve, but it’s also important that you feel comfortable with your choices and you’ve got a lot going on right now.”

It feels good to get all of this off of your chest. So good, in fact, that you contemplate filling her in on everything regarding Yanan and Professor Yang as well. But at this point nothing is happening between you and him, so there’s really no reason to talk about it. “You’re right. There’s just… a lot to think about.”

“Maybe Thanksgiving break will be good for you. You can head home, spend some time with your family, and avoid all of these boys for a long weekend. That might give you the time you need to clear your head and figure out what you want.” She pushes the machine with her legs, thigh muscles impressively bulging.

“Yeah. That’ll be nice.” You really are looking forward to heading home in a few days. It’ll be so nice to see Minseo again and get a break from all of the drama you’ve managed to create for yourself. “Can we be done here, now? You know I can’t match your stamina.”

Nailah laughs and gives one last push. “Sure, sweetie. Let’s head home.”

Even though working out with Nailah and talking it over with her helps you feel a little more at ease, it still doesn’t prepare you for the phone call you receive when you’re back at the apartment. 

Your phone lights up as it vibrates, the name City Boy pulling up on the screen.

“Nailah, he’s calling me.” You panic.

“Well answer it.” Nailah encourages you. “Now’s as good a time as any to talk it out.”

You almost let it go to voicemail, but at the last second you swipe to answer. Awkwardly, you say, “Heyyy! Kino, hey. What’s up?”

“Hey, _____.” He sounds incredibly mellow. “Are you feeling alright? Wooseok said you’re sick.”

“Oh, yeah, I’m fine. Just… just had a headache, that’s all.” You rub your forehead as you try to figure out what to tell him, and you duck into the bedroom to have a private conversation. “Thanks for checking in on me, though.”

“Of course.” Pause. “Um, so you’re probably home right now, right?”

“Mhm. Just resting,” you lie.

“Flash your light for me. I’m in my room, too.”

You do as he asks, and then you sit on the floor by your floor-to-ceiling window and look for his signal. Once you spot his room, you say, “Found you.”

Kino waves gently up at you, and you wave back. Then he clears his throat and runs his hand through his hair. “So I guess the reason I actually called is because I kind of had the feeling you might be avoiding me, and I know it’s not even a big deal because it’s only been, like, two days that we haven’t talked, and it’s totally understandable that you might want some space, but I just felt so bad that you didn’t come to rehearsal tonight and I don’t want you to avoid things you love because of me.”

You wait until he gets it all off of his chest, sitting quietly while you try to figure out how to respond. 

“I’m really sorry, _____. I shouldn’t have kissed you like that when we were both kind of out of it. And now I’m just terrified that I messed up so badly that I’m going to lose you completely, and I can’t stand the thought of it.”

“Kino…” 

“You don’t have feelings for me, do you?”

You can hear the reservation in his voice. This is terrifying territory for both of you. You take a deep breath and respond as honestly as you can. “I don’t know. I care about you a lot, but I’m not sure yet if any of it is romantic.” He doesn’t respond right away, so you ask, “What about you? Do you have feelings for me?”

Kino sighs quietly. “Actually, I don’t know, either. I might. But if that’s not what you want, I can absolutely squash that so we can keep being friends. That’s the most important thing to me.”

You sit quietly for a moment. “I think I need time. I’ve just never really thought about you that way, but then after you kissed me… I don’t know. I’m really sorry that I’m so confused by all of this. I really wish I could give you a straight answer.”

“It’s okay.” Kino’s voice is warm. “You don’t have to push yourself in one direction or the other. We can just sit on it for a little bit, and maybe talk about it after break once you’ve had some time to think?”

“That sounds like a good idea,” you respond softly, grateful that he’s not pushing you for an answer one way or the other.

“But I guess one thing I’d like to know now is, are we still friends?” 

“Yes! Of course we are,” you respond without hesitation. “No matter what we decide, we’ll stay friends at the very least.”

“Okay good.” He smiles up at you from his window. “You’re going home for break, right?”

“Mhm, I’m taking the train out on Wednesday night,” you say. “What about you? Are you visiting your family?”

“Yeah. I don’t really want to, though.”

Based on past conversations with Kino, and the emotional performance he choreographed for the showcase, you’ve pieced together how he doesn’t have a great relationship with his parents. But you’ve never gotten the full story. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Kino sighs. “It’s just hard to be around my parents. My mom is emotionally abusive and my dad doesn’t do anything to stop it. If I were an only child, there’s no way in hell I’d go back there for Thanksgiving. But I miss my sisters and I need to make sure they’re doing alright.”

“I’m really sorry to hear that. I think your sisters are really lucky to have a brother like you.”

“Thanks. I feel guilty enough that I even went to college in the first place, and I know I don’t visit home as often as I should. It was easier for me to protect my siblings when I still lived there, but I was also at my wit’s end. I can’t tell you how much better I’ve felt since starting college, as long as you don’t count the guilt of abandoning my siblings.”

“You have to look out for yourself, too, though. If you had stayed home and taken all the blows, what kind of life would you be making for yourself? If your sisters are anything like you, then I know they’re kind-hearted and strong, and they’ll make it out of the house too when it’s their turn.”

Kino sniffs, and you wonder if he’s crying. He’s just far enough away that it’s hard to tell. “You’re right.”

“You should invite your sisters to hang out with us sometime. We could all go do karaoke together or something.”

“I’m sure they’d love that! That would be really fun.” Kino sounds a little lighter now. “Thanks, _____. I’ve been so stressed about my family situation since I know I’m going home this week, and talking to you really helps me feel better.”

“Of course! What are friends for?”

“I need to get going, but there was actually one more thing I wanted to ask you about.”

“Go for it.”

“Can you be honest with me about Wooseok? You two just got so close so fast, and it’s not like that’s a problem or anything, but… do you like him? Are you two a thing? Because I’ve been suspicious for a while and I think knowing if there’s something going on between you two will help me figure out what I’m feeling.”

Your heart drops into your stomach. Why are you so afraid to be honest with him about it? At this point you’ve denied it quite a few times around him, and it sounds like he doesn’t fully believe you. So you really have no choice but to tell him the truth. 

He continues. “Do you remember the night you got drunk with him and then crashed at my place? You told me about what you two did, and I just… I want to know if it happened again.”

You swallow hard, and then spit it out. “We’re just friends, but we’ve slept together a few times.”

“Ah.” Kino sounds disappointed. “And you don’t have any feelings for him?”

“I don’t.” You adamantly respond, but even as you say the words you’re not positive they’re the truth. So you say, “I mean, I don’t think I do.”

“Got it. Well thank you for telling me. I have to get going though, so I’ll talk to you later, okay?”

You’re surprised by how abruptly he excuses himself from the conversation, but you don’t really feel like you’re in a place to ask him to stay. “Okay. Talk to you later.”

He hangs up without saying goodbye, and you can tell that must have hurt him. You had no choice but to be honest, because it’s time you start facing your messes - even if it creates new ones in the process. But as you flop back onto your bed, you realize that Kino’s response speaks volumes about how he actually feels about you.

Anxious, you check the time on your phone again. Shinhye should be here by now, but she’s nowhere to be seen. It’s just you at the bus stop. You decide to call her just to make sure she’s actually coming.

She answers on the third ring. “Hey, _____…”

“Shinhye, are you coming? We’re going to be so late to Professor Yang’s exhibit.” You bounce on the balls of your feet as if that will help keep you warm.

“I don’t think I can make it, actually, I think I’m coming down with something. I just really don’t feel well.”

“Oh no! I’m sorry,” you pout. “That sucks. Well get lots of rest then, okay?”

“I will.” Shinhye sighs. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you earlier, I just, like, took a nap and I thought that I set an alarm, but apparently I didn’t.”

“It’s totally okay. I’ll see if someone else can go with me. You just get better.”

“I’ll do my best,” she chuckles lightly. “I’ll see you later.”

“See you.”

You hang up and frown. You were really hoping she’d come with you today. Professor Yang had announced in class this morning that he’s got an exhibit tonight, and anyone who attended would get extra credit for the class. You’re genuinely interested in seeing more of the instruments he’s made, so you’re excited to go. You just don’t know if you want to go alone.

You could call Kino, since he’s usually your go-to guy whenever you need a companion, but you still feel weird about the way the conversation ended last night. It would probably be awkward for the two of you to make the trip together.

And there’s Wooseok… Maybe you should give him a ring. Things have also been a little off with him since the party, but it feels easier to ignore that weirdness than the tension between you and Kino. You go ahead and give him a call.

“_____! Heyyyy,” Wooseok drawls. “I miss you.”

“You miss me?” You laugh quietly, immediately recognizing the boozed-up drawl of his voice. “Or are you just drunk?”

He gasps. “How did you know?”

“Wooseok, it’s a Tuesday night. What are you doing getting hammered?”

“My morning class tomorrow got canceled because of TURKEY DAY WOOOOOOOO- OH SHIT-”

You hear a crash of glass, and your eyes widen. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah, totallyyyy- totally fine. It’s fine. I just dropped my cup, but it’s fine. I was talking to you so I got distracted.”

“Is Minho there?”

“No, he went home already. Can you come over? I wanna see you.”

“I can’t right now, I have somewhere to be. But if you put the alcohol away and just drink water for the rest of the night, I think I can come over later.”

“Yes, ma’am. Gotta drink that water. I can do that.” 

“Good,” you laugh. “Be careful, okay? And don’t try to pick up the broken glass with your hands. Just sweep it off to the side and we’ll clean it up later.”

“Why do you sound like my mom?” 

“Because that’s what you need right now,” you laugh. “I’ll text you later, okay?”

“Okay. You’re great. Bye.”

You hang up. That was a bust. After a few minutes you still can’t think of anyone else you’d want to invite. But then the bus arrives and you decide that you’d rather just be on your way than try to find another person to come with.

It’s a long ride, and you’re later than you wanted to be. By the time you arrive, you pass a few other students from your class on their way out. Actually, the whole place looks pretty empty. Did you miss it?

The door is unlocked, so you let yourself in, the little bells on the handle jingling to signal your arrival. In a matter of seconds, Professor Yang’s head pops out from around a corner.

“Hey, we’re actually clo… oh, hi.” When he sees you, his eyes widen a little, made all the more obvious by the round frames that sit atop his nose. You've never seen him in glasses before, and it's a good look for him. But he could pull off literally anything, so you’re not surprised.

Still, you frown, feeling like you really wasted your time hauling ass the whole way up to the north side just to arrive as soon as it's ending. You should have just gotten on the earlier bus instead of waiting for Shinhye. “Shit, I knew I was running late, but I didn’t think I was going to miss the whole thing.”

Professor Yang steps out into the exhibit room, pulling back the sleeves of his deep blue sweater. “It’s okay, I’m not going to kick you out.” 

“It sounded like you were about to,” you joke, trying to make light of the situation.

“Yeah, but you’re…” Professor Yang looks for a brief moment like he’s having difficulty deciding how to qualify you. “...my student.”

“I am,” you respond awkwardly. “Um, I know you were going to give us extra credit for being here, but you don’t have to do that since it's clearly over.”

He glances at the watch on his wrist. “If you let me show you around and tell you about some of the instruments for, like, fifteen minutes, I can give you credit.”

“That sounds good to me." You smile, but unfortunately your stupid ass can't just leave it there. You tack on, "Teach me, Professor.” And you laugh awkwardly, immediately regretting everything.

He chuckles, possibly out of politeness, and leads you to the first guitar on display. “You’re already familiar with this one. She’s the one I keep in my office.”

“I remember,” you admire the gorgeous instrument as you slip your coat off, already getting warm now that you're indoors. “She’s the reason why I was so excited to see what else you’ve built.”

“She’s one of my best, so don’t be too disappointed in the others,” he laughs.

As he walks through the exhibit with you, he speaks in detail about each of his creations. He explains to you how he decides what type of wood to work with, and his process for cutting and shaping the instruments. His collection is mostly guitars - some twelve-strings and classical guitars included - as well as ukuleles and mandolins. Although he suggested he’d only take up fifteen minutes of your time, he speaks with you about his instruments for well over an hour, and you soak up all of the information he’s willing to share with you. 

During your tour, you notice more than a few empty instrument stands. “Why are some missing?”

“I sold them,” he explains. “Part of the purpose of this exhibit was to sell some of the instruments I’ve built, and the other part was to get commissions. I was successful in both parts.”

“That’s amazing! Congratulations.”

“Thank you.” He beams. “I’m eager to start working on the new projects.”

“Where do you do your building? Do you have all the tools at home?”

He shakes his head. “Definitely not. I rent a workshop space. Or if I’m able, I’ll try to do some work in the shop we use for class.” With another glance at his watch, he takes a deep breath. “Anyway, I’m sorry for talking your ear off. It’s getting late so I should really start getting packed up.”

“Oh, it’s like over over?”

“Yeah, tonight was the last of two nights. So I have to clean up, close up, and get the keys back to the shop owner first thing tomorrow morning.”

Without thinking, you offer, “I can help."

“Nonsense. I won’t make you do that.”

“You have a lot of instruments, it’ll be a lot faster if you just let me help. I don’t mind it. Honestly.”

He surveys you, angling his body directly at you for the first time all night - not that you're hyper-aware of his body language or anything. “Alright. Let’s go get the cases.”

You bring the custom-made soft cases from the back out into the exhibit space. He has them organized well, so it’s easy to find which instruments belong in which cases. In no time, you’ve got them all cased up and ready to go.

Carrying a few instruments at a time, you walk with him through the back door to the small parking lot - only three spaces available behind the building. He walks up to the dinkiest little Nissan and manually unlocks the front door, pulling a lever on the floor to pop open the trunk.

“Wow,” you can’t help but laugh. “I didn’t expect you to drive such an old-looking car.”

“Yeah, I’ve had this thing for forever. I have other more important things to put my money towards.” He lifts one of the guitars he holds, making it clear that his luthier hobby preoccupies most of his funds. 

Together, you make a few trips to grab all of the instruments and load up his car, carefully placing each instrument into the trunk and back seat. Once he’s packed, you check your phone for the next bus time. The next bus isn’t for half an hour, and you frown. The damn thing is always running late anyway, so you know it’ll take much longer than thirty minutes.

“How are you getting home?” He asks, as if reading your mind.

“The bus. It’s not too far from here. I should probably head out, actually. Don’t want to miss it.” Even though you know the bus won’t show up for a while, you intentionally excuse yourself with a lie. It’s best that you just head on out.

Professor Yang checks his trusty watch yet again. “I’ll give you a ride.”

Your eyes widen. That’s the complete opposite of what should happen right now. “No, no, it’s okay. I don’t want to inconvenience you. I take the bus all the time and it’s really not a big deal. Plus it drops off right across from my dorm so it’s actually really convenient for me.”

He shakes his head, unwilling to accept it. “It’s late, it’s cold out, and this isn’t a great neighborhood. Even if it were warmer out, I still couldn’t let you stand around out here by yourself.”

You’re hesitant to accept, although a car ride does sound pretty nice. “Are you sure that’s a good idea?”

He nods confidently. “You’ve shown that you can be mature about our relationship, so I think this is something we can both comfortably handle.”

It’s a weird compliment, but you’ll take it. You really have been trying hard to just let things be normal between the two of you, and it seems to be going okay. And then you have an idea - as in an attempt to prove just how normal everything is, you ask him, “Do you need extra hands to help unload at your place? You’ll have to make a million trips by yourself. Since we’re... okay with each other and everything, it shouldn’t be a problem, right?”

He takes a moment to think. “I suppose it would be helpful.”

“Cool. We’ll just unload and then I can probably catch a bus from there. Maybe a taxi if you’re close enough to downtown that it won’t cost me a fortune.” 

“I can still drive you the rest of the way,” he insists.

“Yeah, but wouldn’t it be weird if other students at the dorm saw me getting out of your car? They might get the wrong idea.”

“I’ll drop you off a block away, then.”

“Fine,” you concede. Somehow it feels like you’ve won. Profesor Yang didn’t seem to think it was possible that the two of you could look past the one night you spent together and just get along normally, yet here you are making totally regular plans to just be in each others’ presence with absolutely no tension or weirdness whatsoever. That’s a success in your book.

You hop in on the passenger’s side. The inside of the car looks about as nice as the outside, and you suppress your giggle. It shouldn’t be so funny to you that an all-business guy like Professor Yang could still drive some piece of junk car. It’s kind of endearing that he’s so… normal. 

And then he gets in, turns on the car, and does the fucking dad thing - the thing where he puts the car in reverse, places a hand on the back of your seat, and completely fucking twists around to look out the back instead of just using the mirrors.

“Oh my God,” you can’t control your laughter.

Professor Yang throws a weird look your way as he backs out of the parking space. “What are you laughing at?”

“You really are an old man. You know, they give you mirrors for a reason. You should be careful twisting your back like that, you’re going to pull something in your old age, what with that frail, old-man body you’ve got.” You snicker, mimicking an elderly person with lower back pain.

“What are you talking about?” His eyes widen and he brakes, his hand still on your seat as he faces you. “First of all, I’m not even thirty yet, so cut it out. And I’m not going to address what you just said about my body because we both know that’s not even close to the truth.”

You ignore the fact that he very clearly, possibly intentionally, just reminded you that you quite intimately know what his body is like. You ignore the fact that the way he’s posed is actually really hot because of how his jacket hangs open and his sweater pulls tightly across his muscled chest. You ignore the fact that it would be so easy for him to lean over the console and kiss you. 

You swallow hard. There are a million red flags, but you ignore them all. Remember that he’s completely over you.

“Okay but you did just address it by saying that,” you say, trying to sound unaffected.

“Come on, I can’t just let you talk about me that way. It’s a lot of work to stay this fit and here you are calling me frail and old like you’re not-” He bites his tongue. 

“Like I’m not what?” Into it? Attracted? Drooling about it every time you picture him shirtless?

“I was going to say, ‘like you’re not walking around in a twelve-year-old’s body,’ but then I decided that would just be mean.” 

Your face heats up. You really shouldn’t be talking about bodies with him right now. Not when he just said that the two of you are mature enough to just be normal with each other. It’s so tempting to remind him how not prepubescent your body is, but you finally use some good judgment and decide to watch your words. “It’s just as mean as me calling you old, so it’s only fair.”

“I guess so.” Professor Yang laughs quietly, and then he falls silent. Maybe he’s fighting the same battle as you, trying not to picture you under him. Or maybe he actually has his shit together and this isn’t an issue for him. 

For once, he finally trusts you to be normal around him. You can’t blow it.

As you drive through the city, you tune into the rock music coming from his stereo. And the music selection is so ironic it fucking hurts.

“Don't want to be no uptown fool Maybe I should go to hell, but I'm doin' well, Teacher needs to see me after school...

“I think of all the education that I missed But then my homework was never quite like this Ow got it bad, got it bad, got it bad, I'm hot for teacher I got it bad, so bad, I'm hot for teacher...”

You just sit there in wide-eyed terror as Van Halen streams from the speakers, and it takes Professor Yang a minute too long to realize what’s playing. He sucks in a quick breath when he notices, and scrambles to change the station. 

He settles on another rock station that’s currently playing Def Leppard, and you try to make light of the situation. “Do you only have rock stations programmed on here?”

Professor Yang clears his throat and tries to relax back in his seat, casually gripping the bottom of the steering wheel with one hand. “I just have a favorite genre, don’t act like you’re any different. I’m sure I could probably guess what you’re listening to.”

“Go ahead, then.” You laugh. “What do you think is the last song I played on my phone?”

His lips press into a line as he thinks. “Okay, this is somewhat of an educated guess. I’m going to go with “Superstitious” by Stevie Wonder.”

“Solid choice, but that’s not it.” You don’t actually remember what you were listening to earlier, but you know it wasn’t Stevie Wonder. 

“Plug your phone in, then. Let’s hear it.” He fishes out the aux cord, holding it out to you. 

“Oh man,” you laugh as you pull out your phone. “You’re really gonna slam me if I’ve got something stupid pulled up.”

“That’s the point. I’m testing your taste.”

It feels like he’s in exceptionally high spirits tonight. Maybe it’s because the exhibit went so well. Whatever the case, it helps you feel lighter. You plug in the phone and open your music - and luckily you’ve got a damn good song ready to go.

“You know The Emotions?” You ask him.

“Sounds familiar.”

You press play, and “Best of My Love” picks up somewhere in the middle.

“Oh, I think I know this song!” He pipes up. “Wow, I haven’t heard this in forever.”

“It’s so good! One of my favorites, actually.” 

“Demonstrating free love and affection That you give so openly The way I feel about you, baby, can't explain it Want the whole wide world to see Oh, woah You’ve got the best of my love...”

You force yourself to avoid looking over at him as you listen to the lyrics, realizing just how terrible this song choice actually is given the history between the two of you. But still, it’s a little less applicable than Van Halen, so you leave it on. You just remind yourself yet again that you’re over him, and he’s over you. Whatever’s going on between you now is totally, completely normal and regular and fine.

As you both quietly listen to your music, you wonder what’s going on in Professor Yang’s head. Eventually he speaks up, and it’s a completely different topic.

“I’m excited to see how your dulcimer turns out,” he says simply.

“Me too. I feel pretty good about it.”

“I’m impressed with what you’ve done so far. I think it’ll sound quite nice once it’s finished.” He makes a right turn, sparing a glance your way. “The true test will be part of your final.”

“What do you mean?”

“For the last day of class, you’ll have to write and perform a minute-long piece on your instrument.”

You squint skeptically “Don’t you think you’re giving me a bit of an advantage by telling me that now?”

“Do you know how to play a dulcimer?”

“No.”

“Do you have access to one that you could practice on?”

“No.”

“Then no, I don’t think you’re getting an advantage. I’m going to tell everyone else about the assignment next week. They’ll all have just as much time to prepare as you.”

You suppose that makes sense and he isn’t actually giving you any kind of benefit, but you can’t help thinking of all of the bogus grade adjustments you’ve had to confront him about. It sits with you weirdly, and you struggle to decide whether you should say anything about it.

Eventually you reach your destination. He lives in a cute little neighborhood on the north side in one of those little houses that has been converted into apartments. There aren’t any open parking spots on the street in front of his place, but he manages to find a spot on the next block. 

As he parallel parks, he turns around in his seat again to look out the back. And this time when he twists, he hisses and grabs his back like he’s in pain. “Ah, so old…”

It’s incredibly obvious that he’s faking because he’s a terrible actor, and you laugh. “This is why we have mirrors.”

He laughs with you and finishes pulling into the space. You both hop out and grab a few instruments from the back, and you let him lead the way down the sidewalk.

Professor Yang pauses at the door while he fishes for the right key. “I should warn you, I have a cat. Are you allergic?”

“Nope,” you smile. “I love cats!”

“He can be a little shy so he might not say hello.” He opens the main door and holds it open for you to step inside. You’re confronted with two more doors - one straight ahead and one to the right. He slips past you to unlock the one in front of you. He flips the light switch, illuminating the full length of the wooden staircase that heads directly up into his apartment. “Sorry to make you go up and down so many stairs. If you want, you can just stay down here and I’ll do all the heavy lifting.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” you scoff. “I’m here to help. I’m not just going to stand around and watch.” You confidently cross the threshold into his apartment, taking the literal first step into his personal life. You feel kind of nervous about coming inside, but you suck it up. This is only a big deal if you make it one, and you refuse to do that.

The stairs drop you off at a hallway that stretches off to your left, and an open kitchen and living room area is off to the right. You can’t see too much of it because the lights over there are still turned off, but you can see the tall window-doors that lead to the balcony outside.

“You can drop them off in the living room. Don’t worry about taking shoes off since we’re just heading back out again anyway.” He comes up behind you and flips another light, illuminating the living room and kitchen.

You do as he instructs, placing the instruments against the wall in the living room. The room is minimally decorated with a nice couch, a single armchair, and two large bookcases filled to the brim with books - save for the one shelf that is packed with vinyl records. It doesn’t surprise you to see so many books and records - he seems like he’s very well-read, and he’s enough of a music lover that of course he’d enjoy listening to records.

As much as you want to check out his collection, you know that you shouldn’t explore his apartment. You’re here to unload his instruments. That’s it.

You force yourself to turn away from the bookshelves and vaguely gesture towards the stairs. “Shall we?”

It takes a few trips, but eventually you get all of the instruments inside. All the while you’re incredibly aware of how close he is when he holds the doors open for you, or how damn cute the back of his head is when you’re following him down the stairs. You hate it - how can the back of a head be cute?

Over and over, you remind yourself: I’m over him. I’m over him.

You set down the last guitar with a small sigh. “I can’t imagine you having to do all of this by yourself. I’m glad I came to help.”

“I could have handled it, but thank you for your assistance.” Professor Yang steps into the kitchen. “Do you need anything to drink before I take you home?”

“Oh, no, thank you.” You shake your head, not wanting to impose. “Um, but can I use your restroom?”

“Sure. It’s the second door down the hall.” He gestures around the corner.

You follow his directions. When you’re finished peeing and washing your hands, you notice a pretty blue cologne bottle sitting on his counter. You pick it up and sniff it. Sure enough, it’s exactly the cologne you remember smelling on him. It’s absolutely delicious, and against your better judgment, you spritz it once on the inside of your jacket, zipping it up to lock in the scent and hopefully keep him from noticing the weird-as-fuck thing you just did.

When you come out of the bathroom, you head back towards the kitchen, but just then he comes out of his bedroom, startling you and nearly bumping into you.

“Oh!” You shout as you jump backwards, laughing. “Sorry.”

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to surprise you.”

“It’s okay.” You brush it off.

He sniffs the air, and that’s when you know you fucked up. “Did you spray my cologne?”

You bite your lip, knowing there’s no point in lying. “I did.” He looks at you questioningly, so you fill in the gaps. “It just smells really good. I’m sorry.”

Professor Yang just watches you, and you’re fully aware of what a terrible idea it was to spray his cologne. And also what a terrible idea it was for you to even step foot into his apartment, let alone get in a car with him.

The rapid beating of your heart tells you that you’re still not over him. You don’t want to be over him.

What are you doing here? Why did you let yourself get to this point? 

You need to leave. You need to turn around and get yourself out of this mess. But for some reason, you’re completely captivated by his gaze, frozen in place and entirely unable to save yourself from the impending disaster.

It’s been far too long since he’s said anything, and you’re dying to know what’s going on in his head. “What are you thinking right now?”

Too honestly, he responds, “It’s a bad idea for me to answer that question.”

“That answer makes it so much worse. What am I supposed to assume you’re thinking when you say that?”

“Maybe you shouldn’t assume anything.”

“I wouldn’t have to if you just answer my question.”

He huffs. “I’m thinking that you shouldn’t have come here. That you’re only twenty. That I can’t trust myself to…”

“Hm?” You hum, encouraging him to finish his sentence.

“I can’t trust myself to make good choices around you.”

Your heart beats wildly in your chest. Is he struggling just as much as you? Is he feeling the same pull of temptation, knowing that you’re all alone in his apartment, literally steps away from his bedroom? You have to be careful about what you say. “You’ve been doing a great job so far.”

“Why are you here?”

It’s obvious that he’s questioning your intentions, just like he did the first time he realized you were in his class. “I swear I just came to help with your instruments. I’m not trying to be sneaky.”

“Right.” Professor Yang’s lips press into a tight line, and you’re dying to know what’s going on inside his head.

It feels like he’s faltering. Like he’s holding your gaze for too long, keeping you in this apartment longer than you should be. You can’t help but feel responsible for getting yourself out of this before you both make a mistake.

But… part of you doesn’t want to stop this moment, doesn’t want to break free from whatever trap you’re falling into. 

“I don’t know what to do.” You don’t think carefully enough about your words. “It feels like… we’re already keeping a secret. One more won’t make a difference.”

“You know damn well that the secret isn’t the issue. You’re my student. That’s the issue. It’s morally wrong.” Even as he speaks, you can feel that he doesn’t totally stand behind his words. Like he’s trying to convince himself that it would be wrong to act on whatever he’s feeling right now.

You remember everything Yanan told you about how Professor Yang has always had a rock-solid stance against teacher-student relations… But it seems like he could be questioning his own morality. If he really wants to shut this down, he could just break out of this moment and head for the car, drive you home and forget this even happened.

But he doesn’t.

It’s painfully silent between you - no one wants to make a move, no one wants to withdraw. You're desperate to just talk about all of this, but you're terrified of what could happen if you speak. You’re just stuck in this awkward limbo of not knowing what’s going to happen next.

You want so badly to reach out to him. To pull him close and feel him. You wonder what he’d be like as a lover now that you’re no longer strangers. It would be so easy for you to find out…

You take one small step towards him as a small sign that you’re open and willing, academia be damned. Professor Yang’s lips part ever so slightly as he scans your face, but he doesn’t back away.

Suddenly, there’s a noise in the kitchen, and you jump away from Professor Yang as if you’ve been caught - but it’s just his cat spilling its food all over the kitchen floor. 

Still, that cut in the tension is enough to pull you out of the moment and help you clear your head. This is bad, and you need to leave. You refuse to look at him as you mutter, “I need to go.”

The second you try to pass him to hurry down the stairs, he turns and reaches out, grabbing you by the wrist and stopping you in your tracks. The heat of his hand sears your skin.

“What are you-”

Before you can finish your question, Professor Yang pulls you into him, wraps an arm tightly around you, and presses one long, powerful kiss to your lips. 

Your whole body lights up from head to toe. It’s an adrenaline rush like no other, a hit of the drug you were hopelessly addicted to that one summer night. This is exactly what you’ve been craving - his strong arms and soft lips remind you just how badly you’ve wanted his touch.

When he breaks the kiss, he presses his forehead to yours, breathing shakily. “Why can’t I get you out of my head?” And in that moment, it’s shockingly clear to you that he’s struggling with all of this just as much as you are. 

God, you’re so done for. This man completely owns your heart. Without a doubt, you’re a complete and total sucker for him. And it’s frighteningly easy for you to own up to that, as you say the most dangerous thing you could possibly say: “You don’t have to, Hongseok.”

His jaw visibly clenches when you say his name, and his voice is strained when he finally speaks. “Tell me again that you need to leave. Tell me to drive you home right now.”

“If I don’t?” You challenge.

“Then there’s no reason why I shouldn’t keep you here.” Hongseok swallows thickly. “So tell me I should take you home.”

Your pulse is through the roof as he pulls back and your eyes lock, and you know that you’re way too impulsive to do as he asks. You’ve been pining after this man for months, and here he is, kissing you and practically admitting that he feels the same way. You can’t just go home now.

“I don’t want to go home.” You grab onto the hem of his sweater and tilt your chin upwards, inviting him to kiss you again. “I only want you.”

This feels nothing like the night you met him, when he was playful and sure of himself. It’s like you can sense all of the weight he’s carried with him over the last few months. His eyes scan over your face, and you get to see the slightest smile on his lips before he finally leans in to close the gap.

Just like that, you get everything you’ve wanted from him. Hongseok’s lips are just as plush as you remember and you completely melt into the kiss, and his rough hands cup your face. You feverishly return each kiss, grabbing fistfuls of his sweater and pulling him towards you. Your nose bumps the rim of his glasses, but you don’t mind it one bit.

Hongseok kisses you like his life depends on it. He yanks your jacket off of your shoulders, tossing it onto the ground as he backs you into his bedroom. Every time he cups your cheek or grabs your waist, you feel like you could just shatter in his hands. 

You’re finally getting your fix and you love it. 

His passion is explosive as he kisses you, wrapping an arm around your waist to pull you in close. The strength and heat of him surprises you, as if your body has forgotten what it’s like to be with him. His lips are so soft and warm, and you’re swallowed whole by your insatiable lust for him.

You slip your hands under the hem of his sweater, desperate to feel his skin. You can feel every defined muscle as you drag your fingers across his back, and you moan quietly against his mouth when you feel his hand reach down to squeeze your ass.

Pleasure shoots through you with every small contact. His breath mingles with yours and gives you life, each kiss keeping your heart beating happily in your chest. Everything just feels so damn good. 

You both stumble towards his bed, tearing at each others’ clothes until you finally get that sweater off of him and he gets you out of your top as well. The backs of your legs bump into the edge of his bed right before he pushes you back onto the comforter. You fall onto your back, and he leans over you, his mouth latching onto your neck as his hand fiddles with the button of your jeans.

You drag your fingers through his silky hair, and you feel him suck deeply on the skin at the base of your throat. It’s just strong enough to hurt a little, and you dig your nails into his back. “Oh my God,” you moan, absolutely possessed with lust as he marks you.

Hongseok yanks off your pants, and releases you so that he can unfasten his own. You prop yourself up on your elbows to watch as he unclothes himself, his round glasses still perched on the bridge of his nose. He is just breathtakingly gorgeous.

There’s so much you want to ask him - was it hard for him to see you in class? Has he been thinking of you this whole semester? But you don’t ask any of those things, because you’re terrified to draw attention to your academic relationship. Sleeping with your professor is obviously the wrong choice to make, but you honestly couldn’t give a shit about any of that right now. It’s almost thrilling for you to know that you’re doing something you shouldn’t - but if you remind Hongseok of that, there’s a chance he’s not on the same page.

Hongseok smiles at you with that drop-dead gorgeous grin he has, and you know that at least right now he’s content to have you like this, spread out on his bed and waiting for him to finish getting naked. And that’s enough for you to decide to let the whole thing go and just enjoy living in the moment. You’re not going to ruin this by worrying.

As soon as he drops his pants, he’s on you again, like he couldn’t stand another second of distance from you. Hongseok’s mouth peppers your chest with kisses as a hand snakes beneath your back to unclasp your bra. He frees you from the garment, and his mouth eagerly wraps around one of your nipples, tonguing it and sucking gently.

“Bite it,” you plead, and he very willingly does as you ask. His teeth pinch your nipple, and you nearly cry out because it feels so good.

The last time you and Hongseok hooked up, you might have taken all the time in the world to get to explore each other’s bodies, but you could tell tonight would not be that way. You’ve both waited long enough for this dam to break and you need him so desperately.

You tug on his hair and he roughly palms you through your underwear, rushed and eager. After just a few moments he pushes your panties to the side and runs his fingers across your slickness. You’re so wet for him already.

He aggressively plunges one finger inside of you, practically shuddering at the way you moan when he does. He pumps a few times before slipping in another finger.

Then he pulls away from you. “Don’t move.” He goes over to his closet, and pulls down a box of condoms from the shelf. You smile, and then become quickly distracted as he pulls off his boxer briefs, his hard cock grabbing your attention. 

He rolls on the condom and yanks you to the edge of the bed, slipping off your panties before bringing your legs to rest on his shoulders. He lines up the head of his cock with your pussy and presses inside of you, covering your legs with kisses and bites as his hips buck into yours.

It’s absolutely incredible and you’re so full with every thrust. His hips snap wildly into you and you moan, loving every second of this. Pure pleasure shoots through you, and then you fucking open your eyes.

It’s easy for you to just screw your eyes shut when you’re having sex, because closing your eyes lets you focus more on the pleasure that you feel. But when you look up to see Hongseok staring down at you with those sharp eyes of his, his rough fingers digging into your thighs, his abdominal muscles flexing every time his cock disappears inside of you… how could you not allow yourself to watch?

“You’re so fucking hot, oh my God…” The words come out against your will, but the deadly smirk on his lips makes you not regret it.

“I know.”

Cue the eyeroll. “And still a cocky little shit.”

“I might be.” Hongseok pulls your legs down so that they fall to either side of his waist, and he leans down over you, his lips brushing your ear. It’s clear that he’s not affected by the insult, and judging by the way the pace of this thrusting increases, you can only assume that he’s trying to prove his worth.

His forearms scoop under your upper back and his hands cradle your head as he fucks you, his kisses overwhelming your senses. You slip a hand between your bodies to rub your clit, and you moan against his mouth.

Pleasure burns through your body, your heart racing with each kiss, each thrust. The only thought in your head is the repeated chant of more, more, more, I need more. His cock slides deliciously in and out of you, completely covered in your wetness, but it isn't enough. Your fingers tirelessly press circles into your clit, but it isn't enough. You need more.

"Hongseok…" You mewl his name when he finally comes up for air. 

His eyelids hang heavily as he hovers over you. "_____…"

Fuck, he's so beautiful. It steals your breath away to see him looking at you like this, breathing hard as he pounds into you. His gaze is possessive, like he's finally claimed you, and you honestly wouldn't mind calling yourself his. But that's neither here nor there. 

You forcefully clench around him, squeezing his cock with all you've got. He certainly notices - he hisses as his eyes pinch shut at the feeling of you so tightly wrapped around his cock. His deep groan sends a shiver down your spine.

Hongseok’s voice is low as he says, “Christ, you feel so good.”

You don’t know what to say, or if you should even say anything. Hongseok’s expression is so serious as he locks eyes with you, like he’s genuinely lost in your gaze. It’s intimidating, yet it makes your heart race in the most incredible way.

You reach up to run your fingers through his hair, noting how easily the soft strands slip between your fingers and how his whole face softens at the touch. Hongseok’s eyes close as he leans into your hand, enjoying the gentle intimacy.

He slows the pace of his thrusting until he’s languidly rolling into you, his arm muscles bulging beneath you as he holds himself up. You move your hand to cup his face, and he presses a kiss to your palm, never breaking eye contact.

Fuck. You remember exactly why it was so easy to pretend like you were in love that first night.

Your fingers trace over his cheekbone, his jaw, his lips, remembering the excitement of exploring him for the first time. This time feels so different - it’s a weird combination of a dangerous thrill and caution. It’s impossible to remove from your mind the fact that you really shouldn’t be doing this - you’re too overwhelmed by wanting him to pay much attention to the rules of reality.

But you see it on his face, too. The trepidation, the hesitation, and the incredible amount of desire that overrides everything else. 

As if Hongseok can tell that you’re beginning to overthink, he presses another kiss to your hand and gives you an easy smile. Softly, he murmurs, “It’s just you and me tonight.”

Aaaannnnddddd suddenly you’ve melted into a complete puddle.

“Just you and me,” you echo. 

Hongseok lowers himself, meeting your lips with another passionate kiss. You grab hold of his hair and return each kiss, moaning quietly as he picks up his pace ever so slightly. His tongue slides between your lips as your hand returns to your clit, electric pleasure pulsing through you once more.

You are absolutely content to stay here all night, trapped in his embrace with his cock thrusting deep inside of you with every movement. You don’t want a single centimeter of space between you and him. 

When you’re both breathing too hard to kiss properly, his mouth travels down to your neck, pressing sloppy kisses along your throat. Every swipe of his tongue draws a quiet cry from you, and you clench your muscles around his cock to return the pleasurable favor. 

You hear a deep moan from him, confirmation that you’re making him feel good, too. It’s like music to your ears; all you want is for him to feel good.

Instead of continuing to touch yourself, you use both hands to scrape the short tips of your fingernails down his back to elicit more sounds from him. And then you cup his ass and encourage him to press harder, deeper. And you keep clenching.

“Jesus Christ,” Hongseok mutters. He’s unraveling in your hands. You can feel it.

“What is it, Hongseok?” You play dumb, letting out a sweet moan just a moment after posing your question.

“You keep squeezing me…” Hongseok’s breath is shaky, and part of you loves seeing him so affected by you. “It feels so good, fuck.”

Digging your fingernails into his ass cheeks, you ask, “Do you want to cum?”

You clench around him again right as he’s about to answer. “Aaahhh… fuck, oh my God.” He looks up at you with the slightest smile on his face. “What are you doing to me?”

“Making sure you feel good.” You smile coyly at him. “Is it working?”

“Yes. Fuck.” Hongseok lets out a short laugh.

Boldly, you ask, “Why don’t you cum for me then? Let me see you cum...”

“Is that what you want?”

“Mhm.” You nod, smiling.

Hongseok lowers his lips to your ear. “Alright, sweetheart.”

The nickname shocks your core - you don’t know why you’re such a sucker for it. You’re inclined to believe that just about anyone could call you sweetheart and immediately have you begging to be fucked. 

What strikes you, though, is the slight difference you sense between hearing the nickname from Yanan versus Hongseok. When Yanan called you sweetheart, it felt sleazy, like he knew what kind of power it would hold and he wasn’t afraid to use it. That was hot in its own right. But when Hongseok calls you sweetheart, it feels strangely gentle and warm. Maybe it’s because of the way he holds you as he says it, the way his breath sweetly breezes past your ear. There’s something undeniably lovely about Hongseok, especially when he’s got you in his bed.

You press your lips to his temple, small moans coming from you as he keeps thrusting. The stretch of his cock feels absolutely amazing, and you’re completely captivated by every sensation - the rolling of his hips, the grip of his hand in your hair, the scent of his sweat mixing with his cologne.

With another clench of your pussy around his cock, you sense him hold back a moan, like he’s trying to hide just how easy it is for you to elicit a response from him. But at this point, you can’t be fooled. He’s so enamored by you that he couldn’t even let you reach the front door. And that fact is absolutely going to go to your head. 

Hongseok loses himself in you, thrusting into you and biting your neck, sucking your skin harshly and drawing a pleasured cry from you. It feels like he wants to absolutely devour you. If you could give him any more of yourself, you absolutely would. 

His breathing becomes ragged and you know that means he’s close. You card your fingers through his hair and whisper his name, and Hongseok lifts his head up to gaze down at you. His eyelids are heavy with lust, his lips parted from breathing hard. 

“_____…” Hongseok murmurs your name, his eyes pinching shut. Your eyes just skim over his face, taking in his gorgeous expression. His hips snap into you a few more times until he empties into the condom, and it’s just as incredible to watch as you remember.

Hongseok almost immediately dives in for another kiss as soon as he finishes. You eagerly reciprocate, still in need of your own release. His lips are devastatingly soft and you don’t think you’ll ever get over it.

Without leaving your lips, he lifts himself off of you, allowing his hand to roam over your curves. You feel terribly empty when he pulls out, but his cock is quickly replaced by his fingers. You groan against his mouth as his fingers gently pump in and out of you, his thumb pressing circles into your clit.

Finally, he releases your lips, and without a word he repositions himself on the bed so that he’s kneeling between your legs, pressing fervent kisses to your thighs. The teasing doesn’t last long, though - surely he can sense how desperate you are for more.

His mouth quickly moves to your pussy, gently kissing and licking your folds while his fingers continue gliding in and out. And then he finally reaches your clit, and your whole body warms with pleasure.

Hongseok’s tongue is wet and hot as it works your clit, and he looks so fucking hot between your legs like this. You’re absolutely drowning in pleasure and it’s everything you’ve ever wanted. 

You don’t dare to hold yourself back, moaning freely to let him know just how amazing he is at going down on you. With each suck, each flick of his tongue, you become more unraveled, the tension in your belly growing astoundingly fast.

You curse under your breath, wishing you could just enjoy this forever. Hongseok’s hand roughly grips your thigh, calloused fingers digging into your soft skin. His mouth sends waves of pleasure through your body. And on top of it all, your heart pounds rapidly in your chest, making you believe there’s a chance this could possibly be something special.

Hongseok’s fingers pulse in time with his tongue, and before you know it the coil snaps. Your entire body tightens and releases as your orgasm crashes over you, powerful warmth racing through your veins. Wave after wave hits you, and Hongseok presses a flat tongue against your clit as you ride it out, and the walls of your pussy rhythmically squeeze his fingers.

It seems like a solid minute of pure bliss before the feeling eventually fades. Hongseok retracts his fingers and lips, and he takes a moment to tie off the condom and toss it into the trash can next to his dresser. And then Hongseok joins you on the bed, wrapping you in his strong arms as sleep tugs at your eyelids.

You wake up unbearably hot, and it doesn’t take you long to realize why. You’re completely pressed up against Hongseok’s naked body, and that man is a radiator.

You smile at his sleeping face for only a moment before you start to fill with dread.

You hadn’t meant to spend the night, but you did.

You hadn’t meant to sleep with your professor, but you did.

It was an accident the first time. This time is completely inexcusable.

What were you thinking? How could you have let any of this happen? You’re fully aware of the consequences and yet you slept with him anyway. And you spent the night.

You peel yourself off of him. He seems to be a heavy sleeper and he doesn’t notice the movement, thank God. You hurry out of the bedroom, pulling on your clothes as you find them on the floor until you’re dressed enough to head out. And right as you reach the stairs, you hear him.

“_____?”

You pause. Of course you couldn’t just slip out unnoticed. 

But you have to leave. You don’t want to talk to him about any of this right now. You’re up to your eyes in anxiety and you just need to get out. You can’t even muster up the courage to turn around and see if he’s out of bed.

“I’m sorry.” It’s all you can think to say as you rush down the stairs and out the door.

The three hour train ride to get you home is too long for you to be left alone with your own thoughts. The fact that your jacket smells like Professor Yang’s cologne certainly doesn’t help. You replay last night’s events over and over in your mind, partly thrilled by the memory of sleeping with him and partly disappointed in yourself for your bad decision-making.

Last night was incredible. Spending time with Professor Yang at his showcase was actually really fun, and you have a new admiration for his talents and intelligence. Chatting with him in the car was so comfortable. And the way he fucked you…

You bury your face in your hands and lean towards the window of the train, hiding because you’re embarrassed to be having such lewd thoughts in public. You pull your turtleneck collar a little higher just to make sure the lovely hickey he left is appropriately hidden.

What are you going to do when you see him in class after break? Just pretend like nothing is going on as per usual, you assume. 

And what does this mean for everything with Kino? You’re supposed to be spending this short vacation thinking about what kind of future you want with him, not figuring out whether you regret an undoubtedly terrible choice you just made.

And Wooseok… you haven’t even addressed the fact that you were supposed to be at his place last night instead of Professor Yang’s. He hasn’t reached out to you either, so you assume that he was too drunk to remember your plans.

You’re going to have to dump all of this on Minseo as soon as you see her at the train station, since she’s the only one in the world who knows what happened between you and Professor Yang this summer. And honestly, you’re not sure if she’s going to be thrilled or pissed by what you’ve done.

You spend most of the train ride trying to distract yourself with music and a book, and by the time you arrive you actually start to feel excited about seeing Minseo. You tuck your book back into your backpack, grab your suitcase from the front of the train car, and step off of the train. The platform is full of other disembarking passengers, and you assume she must be waiting inside the station’s lobby. 

You pull out your phone as you roll your suitcase towards the lobby, and you’re surprised to see that she hasn’t responded to your text confirming what time she needed to be here to pick you up. That’s not necessarily a bad sign, but it’s not promising. You decide to try calling her, but she doesn’t answer. 

“I swear to God, if you forgot about me…” You seethe an empty threat at your phone as you hang up.

And then you hear your name called over the rumbling of your suitcase next to you. It’s a voice that you never in a million years expected to find here at this train station.

Your eyes dart around the room until you finally locate him, your heart completely stopping and your stomach dropping to the floor. 

He’s actually here. Right in front of you.

Your brother is here.

“Jinho?”

POST SCRIPT | Thank you for reading! Please stay tuned for Part 10, and let me know if you want to be tagged when I post it!

UPDATE | Read Part 10 here!

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED © GWENTORYFICS. NO TRANSLATIONS, REPOSTING, AND/OR MODIFYING OF THE MATERIAL IS ALLOWED WITHOUT MY DIRECT PERMISSION.

[iron-touch]

My Name is Cab Cavazo

TWO YEARS AGO...

As she was the CFO of a successful marketing company and he was almost always out of the house at soccer practice or a training session with his boxing coach, Cab often had little time to spend with his mother. That being said, they were as close as a parent and child could be—being a single mother often had that effect on their sons.

Though what little free time they had together was often made up of one or both of them being exhausted from the rest of their day, there was always time set aside just for the two of them. Whether it be a simple game of chess or a going out to lunch or the rare occasions she would convince her son to get a pedicure with her; they always made sure this time was well spent.

Hiking was usually Cab's preferred way to spend time with just about anyone, including his mother, and she thought it was a great source of exercise. Naturally, they ended up traversing forested trails often. The two of them usually filled the air with idle banter, with him rambling about school, sports, and spicy schoolyard secrets while she would complain about cussed coworkers.

On that day, however, he was completely silent.

He didn't mean to be. There was a lot to talk about, after all. It was his senior year of high school—finals were rapidly approaching, he needed to make a choice about where he would be going to college, and find a cute girl to ask out to prom. Yet all of those issues were dwarfed by his main concern: he didn't feel passionate about sports anymore. It was what he was good at, it was what he was expected to do; but whenever he scored a goal or landed a knockout lately, he didn't feel the same rush of adrenaline and pride in himself that he used to. He only felt apathetic to it all.

Besides, the only reason that he was good at either of those things was because he had special abilities that no one else had.

"What's bothering you?" She asked the question after about 15 minutes of hiking in complete silence.

Pulled from his thoughts, Cab suddenly became aware of the world around him; underneath his feet were crunching leaves, blowing past his body was the chill of a faint breeze, and above his head were the birds chirping in the trees. He turned to his mother and mustered up the best lie that he could.

"Nothing's bothering me," he asserted.

His mother folded her arms at him and raised a brow. "Cab. I know you better than that. If you're being this quiet, then something's on your mind." They each took one big step up a small incline and brushed back some stray leaves that stuck out from the shrubs in front of them, revealing a cliff with a breathtaking view of the rest of the forest. This was nothing new, they had hiked this trail several times before, but seeing the murky pink sky over the trees as the sun fell below the horizon was enough to ease his mind just a bit. "You know you can tell me anything, right? I'm your mother."

Cab groaned and sat down next to her, the flaky dirt sticking to his jeans. No point in continuing to hide it. "I don't know if I want to keep doing sports," he confessed.

The loud gasp that his mother responded with made him want to rip his hair out. "What do you mean you don't want to keep doing sports? You've been doing them your whole life. Why stop now?"

"I don't know," he sighed with a shrug. "I just don't really have fun doing them anymore. There's no challenge in it."

"That's because you're so good at them." She leaned over and pinched his cheek. "Is it soccer or boxing that you don't want to keep doing?"

"Both."

She tilted her head to the side. "What ever happened to wanting to be the heavyweight champion? You've been going on since you were a little kid that you wanted to be the next Buster Douglas."

Biting his lip, Cab carefully considered his words. I win every fight and every match because of Quiet Riot. There's no challenge in it anymore. I'm just going through the motions. That was what he wanted to say, but how the hell was he supposed to explain Quiet Riot to her? Oh, I've had this compass ghost follow me around for as long as I can remember that no one else can see or touch. He scratched his neck. Maybe he could give her a demonstration of Quiet Riot's ability? How would she react then? Would she panic and run? Call him a freak of nature? Just the thought made Cab feel nauseous.

"People change, Mom," he responded, "and I just don't think that soccer or boxing would make good career paths. What about when I'm 40? Or 50? I need to find something more financially stable than being a sports star." That was the best excuse he could muster up, and he was quite proud of it. With her being a businesswoman, surely she could sympathize with it.

"Well, you know how I've always felt about boxing." They both recalled the days of his youth, when she would scold him for sneaking out of the house on weekends to beg regulars at the local gym to teach him how to fight. One day, she finally relented and signed him up for professional lessons after one of said gym regulars followed him back to the house and refused to leave. "But I don't think you should give up soccer. If you do well at the game next week, I really think you could get a full ride scholarship to college. You've got one hell of an aim with your feet. It's like it's your destiny to play soccer." She affectionately nudged him. "You're destined for great things, Cab."

Cab rested his head in his hands. She could have a point. It wasn't like everyone had their own Quiet Riot that could help them aim their shots.

"Speaking of the game tomorrow," she continued, "are you nervous? Excited? I'm excited! I'm sure you'll do great, honey." She wrapped her arm around his shoulders and pulled him close. "Are you inviting your father to come?"

"Why would I invite him?" Cab rolled his eyes. "I haven't spoken with him in years now. You know that."

"I know, I know. I just figured that you might want him to come, considering it's going to be one of your last big games before you go off to college."

"It's just another game," he replied with a shrug. "He cheated on you and walked out on us. I don't see any reason to keep in contact with him."

"He is your father," she justified. "No matter what any of you do, that will never change. For what it's worth," her face lit up like a candle, the tone of her voice suddenly much lighter, "I certainly wouldn't mind seeing him again."

"Stockholm syndrome," Cab muttered under his breath. Gazing out to the sky, he considered her words. Sure, he was his father, but why did that matter? The man hadn't done anything fatherly for him since he was 10. It had been longer than he could remember since he had received any letters from him, the ones that used to ask him how he was doing in school or when his next game was, worded so eloquently that he always assumed that his mistress had written them out of pity. The crescent moon peeked out from the trees, the sun barely visible anymore. He pulled away from his mother's embrace and stood up. "Come on, let's start heading back. It's getting late."

She nodded and pushed off from the ground as she attempted to stand up. Clumps of grass and dirt crumbled beneath her hands and descended off the cliff into the forest below. Having lost her balance, her body lurched forwards, carried by the force she had put in her hands. She threw her body back and tried to grab onto the ground, but it only collapsed under her weight. A panicked scream left her lips as she fell off the cliffside.

Cab outstretched both his and Quiet Riot's arm out in an attempt to catch her, but she had already fallen out of reach. A few seconds later, he heard a loud THUD! somewhere very far below him. He felt the color drain from his face.

"MOM!"

~~~~~

THREE MONTHS LATER...

"Martin..."

That was the only word that Cab's mother had uttered since she entered her coma, and it was the name of her ex husband.

Not once did she mutter Cab's name, and she barely responded to any input from him. Even after he stopped attending school and skipped out on all his other commitments just to be with her (to the chagrin of his teammates), the only reaction he got out of her were occasional eyelid twitches, her pupils shifting under them when he spoke to her. Even as he squeezed her hand in his through her full-body cast and tearfully babbled out "I love you, you're going to wake up soon, everything's going to be okay," on repeat for hours on end, she never said anything else aside from his father's name.

Cab didn't need to be a relationship expert to know that she was still in love with him, even if he had fallen out of love with her long ago. He couldn't see why; not only had he cheated on her, but he was rude, argumentative, and self-absorbed. Having him out of the house had only improved their lives. Gone were the noise complaints from neighbors when he would scream at them just to show off how loud his voice was, the disdained grumbles when he overheard Cab listening to his favorite songs on the radio, and the long nights of his mother sobbing herself to sleep when he spent the night at another woman's house. The day that he packed his bags and left was one of the best days of Cab's life.

Yet, as she fell closer and closer to death's door, she called out the name of her emotionally abusive ex-husband and not her baby boy.

She didn't have much time left—the way that her doctors always avoided eye contact with him told him that much. The turning point came when one of them tapped him on the shoulder and said: "don't get your hopes up," on their way out the door. The doctor kept his eyes focused ahead of him, rather than on the grieving son below.

If she really wanted her last moments to be with him, then so be it. So it was how Cab found himself in front of his father's home.

It was a dingy place, really. One story with a flat roof covered in leaves, a bland gray paint job that had begun to chip off, the garden so overgrown that Cab couldn't see his own feet as he walked to the door. Surely this couldn't be the address of his prideful father. He double checked the address. Had he really spent months digging through phone books and real estate listings just to get the wrong address?

No. There couldn't be two idiots named Martin Cavazo. Not to mention the orange Pontiac Firebird, his pride and joy, that was parked in the driveway.

Cab pounded on the door. "Hey, Martin! It's me, Cab. You know, your son? I need to talk to you about something."

The door creaked open under the force of Cab's fists. Whatever obscenity he had lined up to say caught in his throat. Why had the door been left unlocked? Martin was a lot of things, but forgetful wasn't one of them. Cab vividly remembered being scolded by him whenever he failed to unlock the door after coming home from school. As eager as he was to add "hypocrite" to his father's long list of toxic traits, he proceeded through the door, closing it behind him.

Though he wasn't sure what he was expecting from the inside of the house, it certainly wasn't this. It somehow looked smaller on the inside than it did on the outside. Only a dirty kitchen with flies hovering over half-eaten plates of steak to the left; a living room in the middle with only a broken recliner, bulky CRT, and numerous empty beer bottles strewn about the floor; and a couple of doors to the left. One was halfway open and lead to the bathroom, while the other Cab assumed went to the bedroom. Dust hung in the air like pollen in spring, coating just about every surface in the house. It nearly made him cough up is lungs as he entered the house. There was also something to the left that reeked worse than anything Cab had ever smelled before. He would've assumed that it was coming from the bathroom, but whatever it smelled like, it didn't smell like feces. Perhaps a dead rat had gotten stuck in the plumbing?

Obviously, the house looked abandoned, or at the very least like it had not been maintained in a long time. Cab's shoulders fell at the prospect of another dead end. No way in hell he'd leave his house like this, he reasoned as he walked forwards, dust rising from the floor with every step he took, he must've skipped on the bills and had no choice but to jump ship. But if that were the case, why would he leave the Firebird out in the driveway?

Since the house was so small, Cab figured that he could gleam just about everything about the kitchen and living room just from his initial impressions of them. They were filthy and cluttered with trash, but he doubted that he could find any clues under piles of beer bottles and dirty dishes. He turned to the left and surveyed the two doors in front of him. The door to the bathroom was slightly ajar, and through it he couldn't see anything peculiar. Just a sink with an old shaving razor resting on the countertop and the edge of a toilet. There was still the smell, however, and if there really was a dead rat or something similar clogging the drains, he'd rather investigate it as a last resort.

The second door, however, was firmly shut, revealing no details about the bedroom. That was probably the best place to start his search. Hell, maybe Martin was passed out drunk on the bed, too lazy to get off his ass and maintain the house on his own now that he didn't have a woman to do it for him. Cab gently opened the door.

"Dad, are you in—"

The last thing he remembered seeing before fainting was Martin's limp body laying on the bed with a bloody crevasse in place of a head and a shotgun in his lap.

~~~~~

Cab hadn't remembered how much time had passed since that day. He could still see his father's decaying corpse in his mind's eye like it was still in front of him.

Even after what must've been more than a year now, the turn of events felt surreal. First his mother fell off a cliff and fell into a coma, then he quashed his opportunities at a college scholarship by wasting three months of his life trying to track down his ghost of a father, only to find his actual dead body and to be told not long afterwards that his mother had passed while he was away. Despite legally being an adult at that point, Uncle Roger had offered to look after him until he could get back on his feet. Cab didn't even know if he was still there or not. He never left his room long enough to find out.

How could something so horrible happen to a kid like him?

That was all he could think about since that day. Could this be some sort of cruel punishment? Some justice for an evil deed he had committed? But what, Cab wondered, have I done that could possibly deserve this? His entire life played through his mind at a snail's pace. There was that time when he was five when he pulled down his neighbor's pants at the park. There was the time when he was nine when he made fun of his substitute health teacher so badly that she nearly threw her shoe at him. There was the time when he was fifteen and stole the car one night to go to a party then wrecked it on the way home. And of course, that said nothing of the countless other boys he had Quiet Riot demolish in the ring. Was all of that combined really the equivalent to watching his mother fall to her doom and walking in on his father's suicide?

No, he realized, that can't be it. There are men out there much eviler than I am who haven't endured half the amount of pain that I have.

Then what? Was it just bad luck? Some malevolent God out there who deemed him to be a worthy punching bag? He scoffed at what his mother told him: "you're destined for great things, Cab." Like what destiny had ended up giving him was some great reward.

You're wrong, Mom. He stood up and opened the window, letting the crisp outside air blow against his face. This wasn't my destiny. This wasn't anyone's destiny. We chose to go hiking on that trail that day. Dad chose to kill himself. There isn't any outside force controlling us. We're all victims of our own free will.

After all, how could fate be real when it had dealt him such a bad hand?

He stared at his reflection in the window. Heavy bags weighed his eyes down, matted curls hung over his face, his once bold muscles nearly deflated. He hardly recognized himself. If "destiny" was so keen to make him this way, then why should he bend over and take it?

I'm choosing to be miserable, he decided. Without a second thought, he set his shoulders back and fully opened his eyes. Not anymore. I'm going to find myself.

The next morning, he packed his bags and left, determined to do just that.

~~~~~

IN THE PRESENT...

I remember that she was a little confused as to why I didn't tell her for so long, but other than that she was happy that I had a Stand of my own.

Among the waterfall of bullshit about curses and fate that spilled from her mouth the day before, that was the one line from Michelle's monologue that Cab connected to. She had the guts to tell her mother about her Stand, despite the fact that her mother wasn't a Stand user. Now Cab could only dream about having the same opportunity. No matter how much he told himself that it's different, her dad was a Stand user too, it didn't change the regret that simmered in his heart as the sentence played over and over again in his head like a broken record.

Staring at her now, as she begrudgingly played tour guide to Sara on their way to Paris' border, he couldn't help but feel jealous.

"Hey, Michelle." He meant to address her more delicately, but it came out as more of a statement than anything.

Jaw clenched after hearing the assertiveness in his voice, she turned her head to him.

"What was it like to have a mom who knew you were a Stand user?"

Michelle furrowed her brow at the question and studied his face like a map. "Why do you ask?"

He bit his lip and rubbed the back of his neck. "No particular reason."

[alternate-pokemon-next-gen]

Alternate Next Gen (Main Cast): Chetari Ketchum

Chetari is the adopted daughter of Ash and Anabel and is Lazarus’ younger sister. Chetari doesn’t remember this, but she used to be a Cyndaquil and was partners with a Totodile named Draco, out of desperation of being forgotten again he had killed Chetari in hopes of keeping her from forgetting him, Arceus had seen what happened and transferred Chetari to a different universe and gave her a soul bond with Ash as he was the Chosen One of the other universe. Ash had officially adopted Chetari after feeling that bond with her. Chetari fit in with the Ketchum family very well, to the point where no one could tell she was adopted. While Chetari is a kind person, she can be very sassy when someone mistreats a Pokemon, another point in which she fits into the Ketchum family. Chetari enjoys taking care of Pokemon and often studies about medicine and Pokemon health. She’s a capable battler but she has no interest in becoming a Frontier Brain like her family, she mostly cares for the Pokemon that Ash and Anabel raised, as well as the Pokemon that Jewel caught and often looks for potential trainers for all the Pokemon Jewel catches for research. Chetari has a huge interest in singing and wishes to be a singer, so far she’s been singing for Pokemon and her family but she hasn’t gone into singing officially yet, she does sing for special events.

Chetari is a shape shifter, it’s for that reason she can understand Pokemon like her family can. She has a Key Stone that’s attached to a necklace that Ash gave her after he adopted her.

Her Pokemon:

Loki the Zorua- Loki was the first Pokemon Chetari had met before she was adopted by Ash. Loki had sneaked into the orphanage and used his illusion ability to pretend to be a child, he played the role of a shy child and chose to name himself Loki so that no one would suspect he was a Pokemon. No one else would talk to him, at least until he met Chetari and the two became close. When Chetari was about to be adopted, he revealed his true self to Chetari and Ash, which surprised Chetari as she never knew he was a Zorua. Feeling the bond Loki had with Chetari, Ash let Chetari keep Loki and even gave her a Pokeball so she could catch him. Loki is a very cheerful Pokemon, he loves playing with others when he gets the chance to. He’s also a bit of a prankster and enjoys using his illusions to turn into a child as Zorua are very rare in the Kanto region, he will use his illusion to play pranks on anyone who happens to be causing trouble and he’ll make himself look as cute as possible so no one suspects that he did it. Loki has no desire to evolve and he mostly stays out of his Pokeball.

Caught in a Pokeball.

Ability is Illusion.

Moves are Fake Tears, Night Daze, Foul Play, Hone Claws, Dark Pulse, Sucker Punch, Burning Jealousy, Lash Out, Copycat and Dig.

Kiibo the off color Gallade- Chetari had found Kiibo injured in the Kanto Safari Zone, after he had recovered thanks to Chetari healing him, he had agreed to be on her team and serve as her knight because of how she saved him. One day after training, Kiibo had spotted a Dawn stone in a store and wanted Chetari to buy it so he could evolve into Gallade. After the purchase, Kiibo took the Dawn stone and evolved. Kiibo was always on the run due to how he was an off color Pokemon, being silver, grey and having icy blue eyes and black marks over his eyes that also run down his cheeks. Kiibo was distrustful of Chetari due to how many poachers and trainers had tried to catch him due to him being an off color Pokemon instead of a normal Kirlia’s color and a shiny Pokemon. Kiibo is very loyal to Chetari, vowing to protect her after she had helped him when he was injured from a group of poachers. Kiibo is polite and loyal to Chetari, being one of her stronger Pokemon. He had received his Mega stone after he evolved and had it fitted into a necklace that matches Chetari’s. Kiibo gets along with Lazarus’ Lucario and the two always spar and train with each other.

Caught in an Safari Ball.

Ability is Steadfast, changes to Inner Focus when Mega Evolved.

Held Item is Galladite.

Moves are Focus Punch, Night Slash, Psycho Cut, Brick Break, Drain Punch, Thunder Punch, Zen Headbutt, Aura Sphere, Poison Jab and Swords Dance.

Vaporeon- Chetari caught her Vaporeon after she was abandoned by her former trainer for evolving into a Vaporeon instead of a Flareon like he wanted, Vaporeon had wandered around for a place to stay at when she had heard Chetari singing and quickly joined in as she loved singing. After spending a lot of time with Chetari, she was caught by her and quickly made herself in with the team. Vaporeon really loves music, especially back when she was an Eevee. Vaporeon would always spend her spare time singing with whatever she remembered hearing last. After evolving, that love for singing never ended and she still loves singing. Joining Chetari, she would always sing with Chetari, Jigglypuff and Swablu while Nuzleaf would play his leaf to their singing. When she’s not singing, Vaporeon loves swimming with the other Water type Pokemon in Ash’s yard. Vaporeon is a very friendly Pokemon, she’s also very good at battling thanks to her previous trainer and she still trains herself so she doesn’t get rusty.

Caught in a Dive Ball.

Ability is Water Absorb.

Moves are Water Gun, Water Pulse, Muddy Water, Aqua Ring, Ice Beam, Scald, Round, Brine, Rain Dance and Hyper Voice.

Jigglypuff- Jigglypuff was caught by Chetari a while after he left his mom, he wanted to find a trainer that liked to sing so he could practice singing and get better at it, he enjoys being with Chetari due to how she teaches him how to sing and he’s glad he doesn’t have to be afraid of putting someone to sleep accidentally by singing a lullaby. Jigglypuff is a nice Pokemon, he enjoys nothing more than to sing for others and to sing with Chetari, Vaporeon and Swablu. Jigglypuff is able to adapt himself to sing any kind of genera of music he knows, which is one reason why he’s able to fit so well with Chetari and the others. He gets along with Swablu and doesn’t mind how strange he may be and he happily raps with Swablu. Jigglypuff gets really annoyed when someone assumes that he’s a female due to the gender ratio of the Jigglypuff family being 3/4th female to male, so he had himself look more like a male to stop the assumptions. 

Caught in a Moon Ball.

Ability is Cute Charm.

Moves are Echoed Voice, Round, Disarming Voice, Hyper Voice, Draining Kiss, Psychic, Dazzling Gleam, Tri Attack, Gyro Ball and Attract.

Swablu- Swablu was caught by Chetari after he had plopped himself on her head like a hat, Chetari didn’t mind and started singing with Jigglypuff and Vaporeon, Swablu had joined in, much to the surprise of Chetari, Swablu started rapping. Finding it funny, she caught him and was glad he joined her team. Swablu is very friendly and isn’t afraid of being near humans but he does have a slight fear of Ash’s Pokemon due to how big they are compared to him. Swablu has a habit of landing on someone’s head, which amuses anyone who he lands on. Swablu is also very playful, he’s happy to fly around while rapping which often surprises anyone who happens to hear Swablu, thinking it’s strange to hear a Swablu rap. Chetari doesn’t mind as she thinks it’s funny and a little cute. She still allows Swablu to join in on their singing sessions often adding onto the song with his raps when the others are singing, the Ketchum family, being used to Pokemon that aren’t like their species, have no problems with Swablu rapping and enjoy his raps, even if not all of them can understand him. Swablu is always the happiest when someone doesn’t comment on how he likes rapping and when someone genuinely enjoys his raps.

Caught in a Great Ball.

Ability is Natural Cure.

Moves are Air Cutter, Sky Attack, Echoed Voice, Round, Hyper Voice, Duel Wingbeat, Dragon Pulse, Steel Wing, Cotton Guard and Double Team.

Nuzleaf- Nuzleaf had wandering onto Ash’s yard one day and had seen Chetari, he immediately went to Chetari and wanted to join her team, Chetari allowed it and was happy to have Nuzleaf with her. Chetari doesn’t know this, but that Nuzleaf is the same Nuzleaf that was her guardian back when she was in the Pokemon only world, Nuzleaf doesn’t want to tell her on the account that he may cause her confusion and he was told by Mew and Arceus that no matter what he can’t tell her that he’s her adopted father. Nuzleaf accepted that so long as he could stay with Chetari. Nuzleaf isn’t as much as a prankster as other Nuzleafs but he does enjoy playing the leaf on his head as a flute for Chetari to sing to once he learned she wanted to be a singer. Nuzleaf is supportive of Chetari and respects that she’s happy with her new family, he also gets along with the Ketchum family and their Pokemon, often acting as a father figure to the younger Pokemon and enjoying talking with Ash’s and Anabel’s Pokemon. Despite how he isn’t much of a prankster, he does still set up traps around the outside of Ash’s yard in case anyone tries anything funny, he finds it a lot easier to set up traps than when he was in the other world.

Caught in a Pokeball.

Ability is Chlorophyll.

Moves are Sunny Day, Razor Leaf, Synthesis, Leaf Blade, Sucker Punch, Solar Blade, Rock Slide, Beat Up, Foul Play and Night Slash.

[stetervault]

Has there been a "Stiles rescues Peter" rec list yet? I'm looking for anything from monster of the week to Eichen House to the Wild Hunt. The idea that I've already read them all is too terrible to contemplate. (Thanks for running an amazing blog!

Not specifically as far as I can remember. But it’s always a genre I can get behind :) Here are some I think fit that category, either as the whole fic or part of it. And thanks for following my blog!

A Moment, Then Silence by Therapeutic_Steter

anonymous asked: Stiles takes care of a heavy injured Peter, who has permanent damage since then. The pack doesn’t care, but Derek and Cora realise that he is family.

Scale Tales by Therapeutic_Steter

Connected drabbles revolving around Dragon!Stiles and his werewolf Mate, Peter.

Rhythm of the War Drums by HyperLittleNori (Shiguresan) (this one’s more them taking care of each other and saving each other)

The foreboding song of the drums rumbled through the stands above, made his heart, his blood pound with their increasing rhythm. He’d seen this so many times now, heard the sickening, morbid excitement of the rabble. He readied himself for the carnage, but even nearly a year after he’d first stood in this spot, it still filled him with dread.

As always, he watched the sandy arena through the barred steel gates. They vibrated with the movement, with the almost deafening sounds of the crowd and the drums. A sea of guards stood at his back, but they were not there for him…

Hooverville by twothumbsandnostakeincanon (somanyofthekids)

Town to town, train to train, tent to tent.

By 1932, the dust had begun to blow and the jobs were gone.

Anonymity was a byproduct of looking for work, which made it both necessary and convenient.

Stiles had enough secrets of his own to know to look the other way when he saw something that shouldn’t be possible.

The ghost of a tail giving enough balance to disembark a moving train.

Near silent Latin whispered on the edge of a tent encampment.

A flash of burning eyes.

He had more than enough to worry about without adding the oddities of others, and besides- having unusually sharp teeth certainly didn’t make a man worse than the ones running from the wife and kids they couldn’t feed.

So Stiles kept his observations to himself. He kept his everything to himself.

Until he met a man. One with eyes so blue they seemed to glow- and then they did.

Stiles tried to look away, but for the first time he was stopped.

“Don’t be like that sweetheart. Aren’t you curious?”

If I Could Kiss You Again by Triangulum

“Summer plans?” Peter asks, eyes on where Isaac is now trying to inch along the ceiling beam toward the wall where he can slide down a pipe.

“Leaving for Stanford in September. Saving the world and working in between now and then,” Stiles says. “Why, gonna miss me?”

“Considering I’ll be left alone with Derek? Yes,” Peter says.

“You’ll have Cora,” Stiles says. “And Isaac will be here to make up a few high school credits.”

There’s a shriek and a thud as Isaac loses his grip, falling on top of Erica and Boyd, sending them all to the ground in a heap.

“Yes,” Peter says flatly. “Thank god for that.”

OR

Five times Stiles kisses Peter and one time Peter kisses him.

Stravinsky by rightsidethru

Duke Orsino:If music be the food of love, play on,Give me excess of it; that surfeiting,The appetite may sicken, and so die.

Twelfth Night; Act 1, scene 1, 1–3

Wolf Within by wynnebat

Instead of convincing Scott to regain his humanity by killing the Alpha, Derek offers another possible solution.

Fashion. Police. by Bunnywest

In which Stiles is a cop with an interest in menswear, Peter’s the owner of a menswear store with a definite interest in Stiles, and why is there always some maniac running around throwing tins of red paint and making death threats?

Fashion, baby.

Under the Songbird’s Wing by mia6363

Captivity easily destroys the will of escape. It can break the fiercest of animal. It can strip the most regal man and woman down to nothing but animal needs.

Captivity can, if met with unwavering determination, shape a person into something unimaginable.

Stiles is sixteen when he’s captured. Stiles’s first thought is, “I won’t die here.”

The Promises Of Yesterday, The Pledges Of Tomorrow by ShippersList

Stiles is a kid with serious concentration issues and definitely not a guide—let alone a guide strong enough to calm down a feral Sentinel wolf. It’s just not possible.

Keep You (Safe) Within my Shadow by lavenderlotion

Stiles has never been scared of the dark. The shadows are his friends.

Dance Under the Moonlight by Therapeutic_Steter

Anonymous asked: Fae!Stiles saving Peter from Pack’s stupidity and washing his hands of them. Please?

Through Space and Time by MaroonDragon

When Stiles pulls the body of Peter Hale into his ship, he doesn’t expect him to be alive. He also doesn’t realise he might have gotten more than he bargained for.

Promises We Never Made by Green

Peter runs off to wreak havoc without telling Stiles where he’s going. Then Stiles has to rescue him.

Rainwater, Morning Dew, Ozone. by lavenderlotion

When Peter is kidnapped, Stiles is left to come to the rescue.

Peter ends up hard.

Fear (Doesn’t Mean I Can’t Fight) by azerblazer

Peter is the damsel in distress, the Sheriff is the hostage, random unnamed hunters are the bad guys.

Stiles has a bat, a hoodie and a willingness to do anything to protect those he’s loyal to.

Bring it on.

Bone Rot by neglectedtuesday

Stiles watches Peter from across the room, although he feels like he shouldn’t. Like he shouldn’t try to insert himself, even by proxy, into the moments Peter is experiencing. Autumn spills into the living room through the open doors, lighting Peter from behind. He is bathed in soft light and Stiles lingers in the shadows, ignoring the symbolism of that. He’s bored of all the different metaphors for longing.

Slice by syriala

Blood magic was dangerous magic, but Stiles’ teacher was one of the best, and Stiles wasn’t too worried that it wouldn’t work out. It would cost him, dearly even if his teacher was to be believed, but Stiles had learned all about the sacrifices for this and he couldn’t care less.

Not This Again by RebaK1tten

There’s a rumor that the last episode of the show will have Peter getting killed, again. Perhaps to give him a redemption arc or something.

So this is a fix it fic. I decided Stiles has finished one year of college. And Peter’s back again!

Cleanse My Soul by Mysenia

cywscross asked: “We’re in the middle of a thunderstorm and you wanna stop and feel the rain?” + Steter? Thanks:)

Call My Name by KouriArashi

After moving to Beacon Hills, Stiles starts having recurring dreams of a man in some kind of prison, who needs his help. Things get so bad that he ends up in Eichen House, where he finds out that the man is real.

Shelter by ShippersList (more hurt/comfort than straight-up saving Peter)

A magical attack leaves Peter vulnerable and in agony, and it reminds him way too much of his time in a coma.

love me lights out by veterization

Stiles and Peter get snowed in together. (Or: what happens when you accept phone calls from people you haven’t spoken to in over five years.)

labyrinth by sinequanon

Stiles prefers goblins to werewolves. Except maybe Peter.

Til Death by Bunnywest

“How long do we have to find him someone?” Stiles asks.“Two weeks,” says Derek, eyebrows pulling down even further. The fierceness of his expression tells Stiles just how concerned he is.“He marries, or he goes to the camps. And you know what your father told us,” Scott reminds her.The camps……aren’t camps.Peter either finds a wife, or he dies.

Bigfoot Told Me You Were Coming by twothumbsandnostakeincanon (somanyofthekids)  (Stetopher)

Peter and Chris are on the run when they stumble across Stiles’ home in the woods.

You Got Me Now by syriala

Stiles stormed into the warehouse, eyes roaming around, desperate to find Peter. The pack was close behind Stiles, but he didn’t pay them any mind when his eyes fell on Peter.

He was on the floor, not even shackled, like someone had just discarded him without a second thought.

Peter was naked except for his pants, and Stiles could see the wounds that marred his skin. He decided not to think about why they weren’t healed.

Bittersweet Creek by Guede

When Stiles finally steps off the westward trail to California, he’s the last of his pack. He starts building a den, but then he finds a dying man next to a burnt-down house and it turns out he’s not really much of a settler, after all.

The Alpha by Therapeutic_Steter

An Alpha always protects what’s theirs.

…..

“Has anyone seen Peter?” Stiles asked at the next Pack meeting, trying to play his concern off as his typical curiosity. It wasn’t like he and Peter had been trying to keep…whatever it was that was developing between them a secret, but most of the Pack was notoriously self-absorbed and hadn’t noticed yet. As it stood, Stiles was only sure that Lydia and Derek knew about it; Lydia because she put it together and warned Peter off hurting Stiles and Derek because he came back to the loft to find them snuggled on the couch looking through an old tome and he’d also warned Peter about hurting Stiles.

Why did they not think Stiles could hurt Peter? Stiles could totally hurt him. If he wanted. Which he didn’t, but that was beside the point.

Let Me Run Away With You by Whispering_Sumire (Steterek)

“So,” Peter says, after an hour or so of driving in tense silence, “I assume we’re going back to your beloved Beacon Hills?”

“No,” Stiles tells him, without even looking up from the restorative paste he’s administering to Derek’s wounds. And isn’t that surprising?

“No?”

“I took the GPS out of Roscoe and I hacked into some of your accounts to get him travel-ready. I don’t care where we go Peter, but I don’t want to go back to Beacon Hills,” there’s a desperation in his voice that makes Peter’s skin crawl, though he has no idea why, “please.”

“Okay,” Peter agrees softly.

[Or: The one where Stiles is in a very bad place, and Peter and Derek manage to unwittingly save him from himself while he saves them from themselves.]

Hostile Takeover by kiranightshade

Alternate season 4 where Peter gains a new roommate in Eichen…for about five minutes. Then all hell breaks loose.

For Great Justice! by Green

Stiles is a vengeance demon, drawn to Peter just as he’s waking from his catatonia.

“Whoever did this? We will make those fuckers suffer. I promise you.”

Enemy Action by pprfaith

Once is chance, twice is coincidence and three times is far too many bodies on the ground.

Whiskey is My Kind of Lullaby by taylorpotato

Peter is a simple saloon owner on one of the outer planets between the Aaru Belt and the Olympus Galaxy. He’s done with trouble. Done with adventure. So fucking done with rustlers. That is, until a cute young outlaw named Stiles wanders into his bar. Peter has this problem where he can’t seem to resist charming narcissists (perhaps because they remind him of himself). And when said narcissists turn his life upside-down, the worst part is he’s not even that upset about it.

[valentinecult]

Theory on Nagoriyuki’s Theme and Backstory.

So, in my previous posts, somebody managed to put out the lyrics of What Do You Fight For-Nagoriyuki’s Theme. 

Reminder, I may or may not be right with my theory. This is just speculation and my interpretation.

LYRICS:

Everything in this world leads to soul enlightenment There is nothing wasted about our lives The snow falling in spring Moon hangs during the day One with self and time So what? Let's get to the bottom line If so, what do you fight for? You're denying your thirst Now it’s time to feast Break it out! Keep grinding dive in deep like cold steel I won't face my doom, SAYONARA! Well done! How dare you!!! Never too late to bend the knee When Hell freezes over! SAYONARA The world is starting to reject you If so, what do you fight for You must know your place Now it’s time to feast Break it out! Keep grinding dive in deep like cold steel I won't face my doom, SAYONARA Well done! How dare you!!! Never too late to bend the knee When Hell freezes over! SAYONARA I know the time of darkness will come some day but I will fight it till the day I die Break it out! Break it out! Dive in the deep! Like cold steel I will not face my doom, SAYONARA

~~~~

It is becoming one of my favorite songs to be honest. The music and its tone obviously is heavy metal, but there is a sense of calmness and self-control. Although, the lyrics are pretty hammy and full of burning passion. 

It can be safe to believe that Nagoriyuki is a calm and collected person. There is a possibility that he is disciplined and passionate about his fighting skills. According to his biography, the man values Bushido (Samurai Code). Bushido Code of the samurai has principles that emphasizes courage, honor, and loyalty to their master, the daimyo. 

The principles clearly almost coincide to the lyrics to a certain extent. The most important part of the lyrics that stood out is that the beginning of the song quotes that everything in this world leads to soul enlightenment. 

https://ashlandtidings.com/archive/inner-peace-characteristics-of-an-enlightened-soul

Soul Enlightenment’s definition varies, but what is it like when a person is spiritually enlightened? The qualities of that is that the enlightened person is a being of pure love and light, kind and compassionate. However, those qualities aren’t enough to truly define you as ‘enlightened’. 

You must purify your soul, heart, mind, and body. The back of Nagoriyuki’s kimono and the kanji written on his mask was written as ‘Heart’ and ‘Mind’, if I am correct. That matches the attributes of what one needs for spiritual enlightenment. 

Even so, the lyrics quoted: ‘You’re denying your thirst. Now it’s time to feast!’

This could refer to Nagoriyuki’s internal struggles on resisting his vampiric urges. As stated before, it’s speculated that his hannya youkai mask is special limiter that helps suppress his impulses. So Nagoriyuki might be struggling to control his vampire side and he could be using the culture and traditions of Bushido to obtain spiritual enlightenment to maintain self-control. Not only is he trying to maintain himself, but he is obviously very determined to keep fighting. Keep fighting until it is his time to die. He might have a mindset of a warrior, someone who isn’t afraid of death, even though he is an ‘immortal’, a vampire. 

Onto his backstory, there is no information on Nagoroyuki’s past. He is simply called a mysterious swordsman that wields a sword that absorbs blood, but Daisuke claimed that he plays an important role to the history of Guilty Gear. 

If this is true, it is safe to assume that he’s seen a lot of pretty crazy events that transpired throughout the lore’s timeline. He certainly gives off the impression of an experienced warrior and a man with a story to tell. 

I believe his situation is no different from Sol Badguy. Sol was a human but due to some...bad circumstances, he became a Gear and as a prototype, he is insanely strong. Too strong for his own good to the point where he needed to create a limiter to suppress the Gear cells and his Gear instincts. There has always been this internal conflict Sol has with his Gear side. 

Nagoriyuki is probably a similar case. Long story short, he might’ve been human once in his lifetime, but something must’ve happened (probably the cursed nature of his sword) to where he became a vampire. As a vampire, you would obviously begin to act out on your bloodlust and impulse to drink blood. Upon discovering the traditions of the Bushido Code of the Samurai, he studied it and tried to obtain inner peace with himself and his vampiric side. 

 While he does come off as a loner, I have doubts that Nagoriyuki built that mechanical mask by himself. He likely had help someone within the P.W.A.B. or something. Who that person is, it’s unknown and I’m not going to speculate it for we still don’t know all the details of the Strive story. 

However, unlike Sol, Nagoriyuki doesn’t seem like he’ll hesitant to remove his limiter and access his full power. 

“I know the time of darkness will come some day but I will fight it till the day I die Break it out! Break it out! Dive in the deep! Like cold steel I will not face my doom, SAYONARA “

This part could mean that Nagoriyuki is well-aware that his impulses could overtake him at any moment if he is pushed to the extreme. However, the lyrics may imply that he isn’t backing down and will keep fighting those impulses until the day he dies. If anything, in the process of learning the Bushido Code, the man likely has an immense indomitable will that helps him maintain his humanity and self-awareness. He’s not afraid to face his demons and is determined to fight them. 

I really believe that Nagoriyuki’s theme is all related to his ideals and personal struggles as a person. In principle, he may have this belief that everyone has reason for fighting. If you are fighting, you should a goal in mind. But in the process of striving and fighting for your goal, you must achieve spiritual enlightenment to reflect on yourself and fight your inner demons. This can sort of tie-in toward the theme of the game. The title is Strive and in lore, the characters are fighting for something, but before they do reach their goal, they must reflect on themselves as individuals. Basically, it’s discovering and awakening their utmost potential. 

That concludes my theory on what I believe could be is Nagoriyuki’s personality and backstory. Like I said before and I’ll say it once again, this must be taken with a grain of salt and be viewed as a mere interpretation of mine, not a fact. The story mode may debunk my theory or not. This is all for the sake of fun and being hyped for the upcoming installation.

I have to say, his theme song is freakin’ awesome to listen to. I think I’ll make it my third favorite next to Colors and Society.

[towaniegaita]

MeseMoa. who trended when the members kissed each other - "My desire comes out strongly in my underwear" and a naked confession

This is an interview from modelpress published on 2nd November 2017 to mark the release of Tomitake and Nibansenji’s solo photobooks. Here’s the link for the original Japanese text and the photo gallery.

Unfortunately I couldn’t find an author to give credit to other than modelpress Editorial Department, and M-Up Inc. for the photos and article sponsorship.

I’ve done my best to translate it but there are still a few places that I’m unsure about. If you notice any mistakes please let me know and I’ll do my best to rectify them. 

The 9 member boys group MeseMoa. was formed in 2012 on a video sharing website. The 'self-proclaimed idols', who completed a nationwide 47 prefecture tour in 2016, have faced a sudden rise in popularity. In the MV for their song Shadow Kiss, included on their 1st album Secret that was released in April this year, the members shocked the world by kissing each other and became a hot topic. It was announced that 2 of those members, Tomitake and Nibansenji, will release their own fashion books this winter.

Starting with the first photobooks of the members who boast outstanding style, we talked frankly about their winter fashion and their views on love.

Does Tomitake practise his poses in front of the mirror?

How did you feel when you first heard that you were releasing these photobooks?

Tomitake: Because we're idols, I didn't expect we'd have the opportunity to release photobooks in the way that fashion models do, so I was surprised. I couldn't believe that a stylist who works for famous fashion magazines would do the styling for us!

Nibansenji: I've taken a step into a world that I'd thought was irrelevant to me, so somehow I still don't get the sense that it's something that I've done. Even when I look at the photos that have been taken of me, my reaction is more like, "I've seen this kind of photo somewhere before!" (laughs)

What kind of fashion tastes did you have shootings in?

Tomitake: Within MeseMoa., my image is soft and cute, so in contrast to that there was a lot of cool fashion this time around. I was hoping for a wild, masculine kind of styling. That's why I think that people who know me as Tomitake from MeseMoa. will find so many never before seen versions of me included in the book. But we also shot some cute scenes where my true nature just jumped out. I dragged Niban into it as well (laughs).

Nibansenji: I was well and truly dragged in.

Tomitake: I dragged him in for the cuts in the animal costumes (laughs). I'd said that I wanted to take some photos dressed as a rabbit, and they made that come true. I was a rabbit…

Nibansenji: And I was a giraffe. I'm tall so a giraffe seems pretty close to my image. Tomitake was a rabbit just because he likes them.

Tomitake: Right (laughs). From what I've seen, Niban generally wore a lot of beautiful fashion.

Nibansenji: I wore loads of clothes that I usually wouldn't, but my personal experience of the shooting was that it was less like a photobook and more like shooting for a slightly casual fashion magazine. Personally I think that in the photos we took, it wasn’t that the clothes looked good because I was wearing them, nor that I looked good because of the clothes, but that the clothes and I had a pretty harmonious balance (laughs).

I'm sure you've taken on various jobs as part of MeseMoa., but did you have any previous experience being fashion models?

Tomitake: Not really, so it was pretty difficult. For example, Niban had this cut where he was wearing a beret. Wearing a beret as part of a costume and trying to express the natural way it would be worn during everyday life seemed difficult to me when I was watching.

When shooting for fashion purposes, you have to think about the best way to show off the clothes while you're working.

Tomitake: Right! I learnt so many new things while we were shooting.

Did you make any special preparations before the shooting? Maybe checking your poses in the mirror?

Tomitake: Nope! I did…not at all (laughs).

Nibansenji: I didn't either, but I'm pretty sure Tomitake was definitely posing for the mirror (laughs).

Tomitake: I didn't! (laughs) There wasn't anything particularly troubling for this shooting. Often I watch overseas dramas that have fashion as their main theme, and I like to check fashion magazines if I have time, so maybe I just naturally absorbed some information about posing and stuff from there.

Nibansenji, the 'raw gemstone' that dulls as soon as it's been polished

Apart from dramas and magazines, how do you learn about the latest fashion?

Tomitake: I also use Instagram and other social media. Overseas fashion and Japanese fashion can be completely different so it's fun to look at. I actually prefer flashy clothes, but I tend to choose plain clothes for my everyday wear…I'm Japanese after all (laughs). That's why I was really glad to wear the clothes I actually wanted to wear this time.

Tomitake seems to take a lot of interest in fashion, but we've heard that Nibansenji is the complete opposite.

Nibansenji: I honestly don't care.

Tomitake: (laughs)

Nibansenji: I don't read fashion magazines or check fashion on the net. Most of the clothes I regularly wear are presents from fans…actually today's clothes are pretty much all presents (laughs). I don't have anything I'm particular about, but because I'm tall it's hard for me to find a size that fits. That's why when it came to the shooting I really didn't know how to act. Probably the first thing I asked was, "What should I do?". When it comes to MeseMoa., we usually shoot as a group of 9 or at least on a set with someone else so I'm used to that. But I really didn't know what to do when I was shooting alone, especially since I was trying to show off the clothes for the camera, so that was tough.

Tomitake: Niban honestly never buys clothes by himself. And this jacket he's wearing today? I'm pretty sure he's been wearing that same one for years and years (laughs).

Nibansenji: It's probably been about 5 years. I take care of my possessions.

Tomitake: You never change your wallet either, do you?

Nibansenji: I've been using this one for about 10 years now (laughs).

Tomitake: See! The way he takes care of things is just in a completely different league to me. He always uses things for several years, so I'd say in a way he's good at buying items that aren't influenced by trends (laughs).

Nibansenji: All the things I like are basically the same. So if you think that you haven't seen me using something for a while, please just assume that it was torn or broken (laughs). I do hear about some trends, and think that they're cool or unusual. But I don't leave the house unless I have plans, so the variation in clothes I wear outside will probably never increase.

Does that mean that you never really consider going out to buy clothes?

Nibansenji: Not really. Sometimes I'll go shopping if somebody invites me though.

Tomitake: He says that, but we've known each other for years now and yet I've only been shopping with him once and that was when we were abroad (laughs). I want to see him wearing lots of different clothes, so I'm persistent in inviting him. Niban can pull off stylish clothes, so we members try to get him to wear various things. By the way, I think of him as a 'dulled gemstone' (laughs). A gemstone that rarely lets you polish him, and when you think you've managed he grows dirty again in an instant…All of his own accord. Even though he's been nicely polished, he deliberately walks right back into the mud.

Niban: It's like, 'The polishing's done now? Sweet, I'm off to roll around in the mud' (laughs). Staff members often say I look completely different when I'm wearing our outfits and have had my hair and makeup done.

By the way, have you bought any trending fashion items recently?

Nibansenji: Last year I bought a blouson jacket from MA-1.

Tomitake: The most recent one was last year? (Laughs) It's true though, when I was at school I'd often talk about the latest fashion and trends with my friends, but as a group we prioritise music and dance instead. Honestly, we members rarely ever talk about fashion together.

Underwear particulars and confessions

Were there any outfits or items used during the shooting that you especially liked?

Tomitake: I had an on-location shoot in a leather biker jacket, and I really like that kind of rock-style, it packs a punch. I also came to like clothes that show off my body line.

Nibansenji: I wonder what I liked.

Tomitake: What I liked when I saw your photos were the outfits that used colour! Since you usually wear completely plain outfits. That orange knitwear and other slightly brighter clothes suit you surprisingly well!

Nibansenji: You think so? I tend to wear loose clothes, but I think maybe clothes that show my body line suit me more. However I still can't handle clothes that feel really tight to my body…

Speaking of, do you have any particulars when it comes to underwear?

Nibansenji: I won't wear anything other than trunks! Tight clothes and tight underwear are both bad.

Tomitake: You seem not to care about your underwear. That's why I always tell him to stop wearing pants that look like a middle schooler would buy them with their pocket money (laughs). By the way, I prefer boxers. My desire to wear flashy clothes comes out strongly in my choice of underwear, so I like to wear bright patterns. But today they're just a simple blue! (laughs)

Thanks for letting us know (laughs). We've heard that more and more people are moving away from wearing trunks, but how's the situation among those you know?

Nibansenji: Nobody else except me wears them. That's why Tomitake and even others ask me if I don't want to change. But I still don't like boxer types…

Tomitake: He'll probably be wearing trunks his whole life (laughs). One time he stayed over at my place and I lent him an entire outfit, including underwear. At the time he said he'd put up with it for a short while, but it was clear even then that he wouldn't want to keep wearing them. Or he could go full circle and start wearing fundoshi (laughs).

Nibansenji: That's never happening! (laughs)

Analysing their ideal types of women

Are there any items of women's fashion that you specifically like to see?

Tomitake: If Niban were to start talking about girls' fashion here, even his fans would get mad and wonder what the hell he's talking about (laughs).

Nibansenji: Especially since my own fashion is so slapdash (laughs). I guess it's okay to say that you like certain things, but if you start to say that you don't like something then it gets difficult, right?

Tomitake: That'd be so annoying! (laughs) I like seeing people who stick firmly to their principles, or seem to be having a lot of fun with their fashion. On a basic level, my eyes are drawn to flashy clothes. I'll probably see a lot of leather items that excite me in the coming season. But I also like a sweet and spicy mix, like a biker jacket over a dress or something.

Nibansenji: A sweet and spicy mix…?

Tomitake: It's a style that mixes sweet, feminine items with cool items. If I saw someone wearing a biker jacket over a pretty red dress I'd definitely look at them and think, 'What a cool rock style!'. But I also like very sweet, cute outfits. Also I think girls who can pull off woollen hats and berets have a high fashion sense. Berets in particular seem like they'd be hard to match with your clothes, but they leave such a girly impression so they're an interesting item.

Nibansenji: Damn…there's so many words flying around that I've never heard before (laughs).

Tomitake: Make sure you're following along properly! (laughs)

Nibansenji: I'll remember the sweet and spicy mix (laughs). I can't really give a concrete idea of fashion I particularly like, but for me as long as the person suits the clothes they're wearing then I think that's good fashion. But I do get intrigued when someone has a 'gap', I quite like that. Take our fans for example, if there's a girl who always wears skirts and suddenly one day she turns up in pants, then in my mind I'm kind of like, "Oh!". This is pretty clichéd , but I also like fluffy clothes.

Tomitake: You say all that but I can't even picture the type of girl you'd like. I think you can easily imagine my type though.

Nibansenji: Yeah. A dazzling girl, wearing black leather clothes that show her body line with her nails neatly painted. And uniform length hair.

Tomitake: Ah~ You know me so well. I like girls who are like divas from overseas. Like Beyoncé (laughs). A tsundere but without the 'dere' part (laughs). I like to be the one doing the chasing…I think.

Nibansenji:  Well, you tend to go for a pretty dazzling look when you crossdress.

They do say that when men crossdress, they tend to choose the style of their ideal woman.

Tomitake: I get that! My crossdressing was pretty damn dazzling (laughs). Niban dresses like a quiet girl who seems like she'd spend time reading books in the library. But then when she takes her glasses off she's really beautiful!

There's the 'gap' as he said.

Tomitake: What I can tell is that he prefers girls who aren't so flashy. This is kind of a different subject, but Niban is really close to what many girls hold as their 'ideal boyfriend'. I've got a lot of peculiar traits so there's a clear divide between those who like me and those who don't, but Niban's not like that - he's the type to be liked by everybody. Just saying it out loud annoys me! (Laughs)

Following on from your types, could you tell us about how to capture each other's interests?

Tomitake: Niban says that he's sloppy, and from the outside he seems like he's not too bothered about the fine details, but sometimes he's very particular about certain things that make you wonder why. I guess it depends on how you would approach that. He's not the type to get fussy over lots of things, but nobody understands his targets except him, so you might have to keep an open mind with him.

Nibansenji: I guess so. I think for Tomitake, it's best to firmly take the lead but also indulge him a little on the side. It's definitely better to take control over him. You need to be the type who'd tell him to stop hesitating over the same thing forever and a day.

Tomitake: You might be right! I don't think I could fall in love with someone who's not firmer than I am. Someone who can get things done makes me want to chase after them. If they were to say, 'Follow me!', I'd just be like, 'Yes!'. That's why I only need the 'tsun' part of a tsundere (laughs). Ah, but when it comes to our fans I like people who are kind and cheerful!

The photobooks are connected to the dream MeseMoa. is aiming for

It looks like you'll be holding lots of events around the release of the photobooks. What kind of events would you like them to be?

Tomitake: It's been a long, long time since we did an event with just the two of us. In the past Niban didn't really talk much, but recently he's become more proactive.

Nibansenji: I can talk in situations where my speaking partner won't, but if I'm with someone who talks a lot then I don't really speak.

Tomitake: Are you calling me a chatterbox? (laughs) Well then, this time I'll leave it to you. But when you start talking, you keep going for ages! (laughs) I'd like to give these events a sense of being special, but also with our usual unchanging atmosphere. Everything we're doing right now is all working towards the dream that MeseMoa. is aiming for. That includes the photobooks. The opportunities are increasing for many people to see our photos lined up in the bookshop, so that becomes part of MeseMoa.'s dream.

Nibansenji: We're really grateful for this chance. I'd like it to be seen by lots of people who are seeing us for the first time, but also both Tomitake and I believe we've taken some photos that will really satisfy our current fans, so I hope everyone is looking forward to it.

Thank you very much.

[ckret2]

what are ichi, ni, and san attracted to individually?

Oh man I found my draft of this buried way deep in my docs, I meant to finish answering this ask weeks ago. How long have I been not working on this? Dang.

Anyway.

I've made some posts about who each of them are individually attracted to, but I haven't done one yet on what each of them individually finds attractive, so sure! A lot of the below will also discuss the love interests each of them has expressed attraction to, to the extent that each of their individual love interests reflect their individual tastes.

This post is 2700 words, buckle up.

Let's start off with what they've got in common—because what they've got in common vastly overwhelms their differences. All of their personal tastes have been heavily shaped by the trauma they went through, so both their collective tastes and individual tastes reflect that. Most prominently: they're all attracted to skilled/strong warriors, because 1) under the Xilien military they had it beaten into their heads that the only thing of worth about them is their ability to destroy, 2) at this point nearly all their hobbies and interests besides fighting have atrophied to nothing so fighting is the only couple bonding activity left to them, and 3) they live under constant terror that if they care about something, it will be destroyed/killed, because they ARE an instrument of destruction/death and that's the framework through which they see the universe—so a partner who can defend themself against anything that might try to destroy them is very appealing.

So you get a powerful warrior, that's gonna put a check mark on all three of their "ideal partner" wish lists.

They're also going to be collectively more attracted to people with dorat-esque physical traits. Scales, coloration in the yellow range, long flexible bodies, articulated wings, a one-head-and-four-limbs symmetrical body layout, snoutlike face with one mouth and two eyes... (When you've been around enough aliens, things like "symmetrical bodies with four limbs" and "one mouth and two eyes" are no longer a given.) Not that EVERYTHING is necessary for them to be attracted, of course, but little things add up. For example, if they were forced to choose and if he wasn't their Hated Nemesis, they'd find Godzilla more attractive than Kong on the basis of the fact that he's reptilian, he's got a tail, and he's got a row of spines down his back, and therefore he's more doratlike than Kong. However, Godzilla loses out to Manda, who's snakey, has horns, and is close to a color that dorats actually come in.

This isn't a conscious thing on their part—they don't, like, mentally tally up dorat-like traits. But if you went up to them and asked "hey, what traits do you consider hot?" and for some reason they decided to answer instead of incinerate you, the list of features they'd provide would end up pretty well describing a very handsome dorat. They don't REALIZE they're looking for dorat traits, but if you pointed it out to them they'd be like "Oh, huh. Well, yeah, basically. But a good looking dorat."

Plus some variations based on their original Dorat Sexualities; like, Ichi and Ni are both more attracted to smaller wings and longer/spiny tails, while San is the opposite. (Not that this is necessary. San looked at Gigan's itty mainly-for-decoration wings and went "yeah these are fine" and Ichi looked at Rodan's little nubby tail and went "sure, still cute.")

Other traits they've got a shared interest in: positivity, optimism, upbeat attitudes, all that, because they've got none themselves; self-confidence, courage, bravery; people who understand the war machine life—they don't feel wholly relaxed around people who don't have a kill count that can be measured in planets, they feel like they've got to keep up an artificially harmless façade not to be cast out by people who Don't Get It; someone they can see more as a "beast" than as a "person" because they feel like "people" are out of their league but "beasts" are their equals (which is an artificial divide that they absorbed from Xiliens, based on arbitrary measures of personhood like "does their culture wear clothes" or "did they invent their own technology or inherit someone else's").

Okay, so, on to their individual preferences. In order!!

Starting with Ichi! A.K.A. The Only One That Actually Has A Crush On Rodan. Most of the reasons he likes Rodan are because he hits a lot of the traits that all of them find attractive: great warrior;  he's pretty upbeat; he's brave; he gives them "oh this is definitely A Fellow Animal and not a Person" vibes; they think that he's totally down with destroying the world (because they don't realize that he didn't understand that that was what they were up to); and he makes them go "oh, he's like, 60% dorat? 65%?"—because of his appearance, because he (like them) survived the oxygen destroyer unscathed, and because he could break out of their siren song mind control. So those are all reasons for Ghidorah to like Rodan.

But it doesn't explain why Ichi likes him so much more than the other two.

And deep down... deep, deep down... I think Ichi just wants to get dicked down and Rodan looks like he can do the job.

But seriously though—Ghidorah, as a whole, has been suppressing a broad swath of their emotions for an extremely long time, ESPECIALLY their capacity to form emotional connections with anyone else. Ni and San have both cracked on that front—Ni's got an ongoing crush that he deals with by burying it alive, and San's got a star-crossed love half a galaxy away that he left behind kicking and screaming—but Ichi's never cracked. He's never let himself fall for anyone. Ni and San see "keep Ghidorah isolated, independent, self-contained" as an obligation; Ichi sees it as a duty—his duty to his other two parts.

None of the three is officially the leader/in charge, but Ichi ended up the de facto leader because back when they were even worse of a psychological wreck than they are now he was the one who just barely held it together enough to corral them and keep them going. He's the team Mom Friend, assuming that the mom in question is also a hardened drill sergeant without an ounce of natural maternal instinct, and the friends the drill sergeant mom friend is mothering are two traumatized soldiers trying to escape a postapocalyptic hellscape so they can forage for food. He's done a better job of not getting attached than the other two because he's felt most strongly that that's absolutely not an option.

But then they're on Earth, one of the worlds they've struggled the hardest to try to conquer, one of the most frustrating experiences of their post-Xilien-escape life; and they've just woken up from several millennia in ice, pissed the fuck off but also disoriented as hell and keenly aware of the fact that they lost a HELL of a fight in order to have been frozen; and mentally, they're somewhat rattled apart, they're still rebooting their usual emotional shields and defenses, they're still trying to get the mental pieces put back together, and Godzilla attacks them like a minute after they wake up and their brains are definitely not put back together—

There are holes in Ichi's mental defenses that have never been there before. He's vulnerable in a way he hasn't been before. It's not that something about Rodan is more attractive to him than it is to the other two—it's that the other two keep a good solid inch of iron around their capacity for affection, but Ichi keeps a nice fat five-foot-thick steel wall around his; and right now that wall is missing. He is completely exposed to the possibility of someone swooping in and seizing his heart—and Rodan went right for his chest with talons extended. And because just that one time, that one day, he's already shaken up, he's already vulnerable, Rodan gets through when the next day he might not.

And so even though the other two can also look at Rodan and agree, yes, the things Ichi is attracted to him for are indeed attractive, Ichi falls hard and fast when the other two don't.

Or, the tl;dr version:

Ichi has been suppressing his sexuality for several times longer than the human race has existed. For a moment—just a moment—all that suppression is gone; and so he's at risk of latching on to anyone that struck him as attractive. On this day, at this moment, he wants to get dicked down, and by god, Rodan looks like he can do the job.

And with all that written... because everything we've seen that Ichi is attracted to so far fits in with what Ghidorah-as-a-whole is into, I'm not sure that I've got anything specific to list that sets his tastes apart from the collective's. I might come up with some later, but since thus far they haven't been relevant in what I've been writing, I haven't come up with any in particular. Maybe it's just the case that all the things he's attracted to also happen to be things that The Whole is attracted to. Y'all wanna suggest specifics, I'll see if I like any that I can work in?

Ni's romantic tastes are best covered here, with the explanation of why he's into San:

https://ckret2.tumblr.com/post/187039340467/anonymous-said-why-did-redacted-fall-for

And honestly... that's it. That's his taste. San is his taste. His taste is San. He had a babycrush on San since back when they were three individual dorats that barely knew each other, long before they were picked up for Highly Unethical Animal Experimentation, mutated, combined, and turned into Ghidorah; and realizing that one of the two people he was stitched together to and sharing brainspace with was the dude he had a crush on was one of the primary things that galvanized him to, like, survive. And since then having a secret limerent obsession with one of the two dudes he's fused to has determined almost everything about his romantic preferences, sexuality, and entire mental/emotional landscape.

What he liked San for originally can basically be boiled down to:

1) He was less "hivemindy" than other dorats, particularly dorats of his sex—San's sex is the one that's got less control over their empathic abilities, and so it's easy for a bunch of them to get together and catch the same emotion from each other like a fast-moving contagion. San had a tendency to go less "tunnel vision" on whatever The Group was thinking about and notice things going on outside their current activity—often with such great interest and attention that it broke The Group out of the zone as well, to their consternation—but Ni, who was uncomfortable in hiveminds, appreciated that about him.

2) Ni's of the dorat sex that's got stronger empathic abilities, but also a better ability to dim the degree to which they're active—and Ni liked to not just dim his ambient empathic field but also turn it off completely, because he didn't like others reading his feelings at all times. This is uncommon enough in dorats that it actually drove their owner to take him to the vet to make sure his head was okay. (And it was okay; he was just Extremely, Extremely Introverted by dorat standards.) Most dorats thought that this made Ni super weird/uncomfortable/off-putting. San thought it made him interesting, a unique novelty worth investigating. Ni appreciated that San didn't radiate Wild Discomfort in his presence.

3) San was, like, pretty hot. For a dorat. To other dorats. Adolescent dorats. Basically he was the cutest preteen snake in the room because he looked like a 14-year-old snake instead of a 12-year-old snake.

But that... was an extremely long time ago. And basically none of it applies anymore. What's being hivemindy or not matter when there's only three of you and you're always in and out of each other's heads? What's it matter that once upon a time long long ago San thought Ni was okay for shutting off access to his emotions when now there are only two people who CAN feel Ni's emotions/thoughts and both of them are equally chill & used to him keeping his mind closed/filtered to them? What's it matter that San was a cute baby snake when they're now three terrifyingly ancient monster snakes that were mutated to look almost identical?

So, by this point? What he's attracted to is, legitimately, "whatever San is like." His preferences shift so that they're always San-centric. San is the emotional rock Ni is clinging to.

... It's honestly kind of terribly unhealthy.

So if you asked him what he's attracted to, he'd say, like, "Oh, you know... someone who's observant, attentive... someone who's curious about his environment, likes learning... someone who appreciates the little things... uhh...... someone who's closer to the left shoulder than the right shoulder........." and then he'd peter out of traits to list because at this point Ichi, Ni, and San's identities are like 75% overlapped and there's not much room left in them for their individual differences.

But he wouldn't be interested in any of those listed traits if they were in somebody other than San.

(Ni is capable of being "interested" in other people—but it's 50% "I'm interested in you as a friend" and 50% "We, Ghidorah, currently in a mood to feel like an individual instead of like three people, are together interested in you romantically." Ghidorah slides back and forth between being "three-in-one" and being "one-from-three."

San's tastes are covered pretty thoroughly in the post about why he (and the rest of Ghidorah) is into Gigan:

https://ckret2.tumblr.com/post/186622638902/more-on-the-relationship-between-gigan-and

Beyond all the reasons San likes Gigan that Ichi & Ni share—his skill in & passion for violence, his familiarity with what it's like to be an unwilling war weapon—he also likes his sense of humor, his ability to appreciate and revel in little details the way San does... and, probably more importantly than anything else, Gigan represented a way out.

All this time, Ghidorah has kept together and remained... if not "stable" in the sense of "emotionally healthy," then "stable" in the sense of "maintaining a mental balance well enough not to fall over"—but they're stable like a tightrope walker who's gotten really good at maintaining that balance on their tightrope, not like somebody who's standing on solid ground. And they maintain that balance through isolating themselves, never letting themselves get attached to any place or any thing or any one, never letting themselves linger in one spot for long, always moving on, on, on, on, back into space. They're that meme "If I keep my body moving and my mind occupied at all times, I will avoid falling into a bottomless pit of despair."

Which is all well and good, except "avoiding connecting with anything" does not adequately keep San's mind occupied, and the only reason he hasn't fallen into a bottomless pit of despair is because he's got two other people in his head just barely tugging him back from toppling in. But he's desperate for... a sense of continuity, a sense that he can invest something in life that won't vanish in three days, a sense that anything matters. He wants desperately to connect to something else—or someone else.

Gigan offers that connection—Gigan is someone safe they can connect to, because he has the same lifestyle as them. He's someone that San can let in... without them having to change their life at all.

So, that's what he's attracted to that sets him apart from the other two: he's attracted to escape routes. He falls for someone who can anchor them so they don't keep tumbling off into space, from world to world and apocalypse to apocalypse. He wants someone who can be an excuse for them to stop and hold still. Someone who's compatible with them, someone who's just like them, someone who burns worlds the same way they do, but is capable of wrapping their arms (wings? tails? whatever) around Ghidorah and holding them in one place—whether that's "one place" physically or emotionally.

He's just tired of floating through outer space in asteroids.

[xoruffitup]

Marriage Story Thoughts (Round 2)

My full ~analysis~ with more plot and scene-level detail from when I first saw Marriage Story at TIFF is here!

Man. The second go-around on this movie hit me in completely new, wonderful, intimate places. It’s really a testament to the nuance and genius of Noah’s writing that the film once again succeeded in “playing with allegiances” (as Noah and Adam have said), even when I already knew what the characters had done and would do. I still think Nicole is justified in all she does to fight for “a piece of earth” to call her own; to determine her own existence and fulfillment on her own terms, separate from Charlie or anyone else. And yet, as the film progressed, I also felt complete frustration, heartbreak, and tenderness watching Charlie suffer through the tectonic shifts happening right beneath his feet; the reeling loss of everything he once valued and lived for in his life. 

Charlie is selfish and self-absorbed, there’s no arguing it. But there’s also no way to argue that he ever acted with willful disregard of Nicole’s desires or happiness. He was simply swept up in his passions - for his artistic endeavors and for his family. To him, they were one in the same. To him, his success and triumphs were also hers, and he genuinely never seemed to think that she might not see it the same way; that she might not feel the same sense of gratification. Of course, he should have. He should have stopped for a second to realize his wife might want more for herself than just to share in his exploits. In many ways, he did take her and their relationship for granted. He assumed what made him happy also made her so, and he failed to give full gravity to her voiced wishes to spend more time closer to her family in LA. Perhaps Nicole didn’t fully voice her growing unhappiness before the movie’s starting point, but that hardly detracts from the fact that Charlie should have thought to actively tend to her happiness and fulfillment, rather than simply draping her in his own. 

The one element of the film I’m not entirely satisfied by is the sidelining of the fact that he cheated. While that fact doesn’t alone skew or determine my opinion of him, I just think that aspect of the story and the hurt Nicole felt because of it wasn’t given the proper consideration it deserved. We do see that the affair didn’t mean much to Charlie, and upon my second viewing I caught him trying to downplay it by saying it happened “after he was on the couch” aka after he and Nicole stopped being intimate and their marriage was already more or less over. Still, this doesn’t excuse it and I wish it had been addressed more. His yelled “because you stopped having sex with me!” during their blow-up fight didn’t give closure to it at all. (Nor was it anywhere near a justification.)

I noticed the beautiful (and tragic) irony this time around in having Nicole start the film sure of her decisions intentions, while it takes Charlie the length of the film to arrive at his own. The irony is that Nicole’s unhappiness and lack of fulfillment stemmed from the fact that she feels she never had the chance to make decisions shaping the course of her own life. (It was all Charlie’s furniture, she didn’t even “know what her taste was”; “I just got smaller; I wasn’t ever alive for myself, I was just feeding his aliveness”.) So when it comes to the foreign, terrifying terrain of navigating this divorce, Nicole is the one who this time comes prepared and determined. Though she doesn’t anticipate the cutthroat tactics her lawyer will adopt; she does know the key things she wants - to start a more permanent life with Henry in LA; and to pursue her own acting/artistic endeavors for herself separate of Charlie. Nicole already knows at the beginning of the film what their marriage has meant for her, how it has affected and compromised her, and how she wants to move on from it in order to seize control of her own life for the first time.

Charlie, meanwhile, who was “always clear about what he wants” and “rarely gets defeated” - he is completely at a loss throughout the divorce proceedings and seems more and more defeated as the film progresses. He has never stopped to think about what his life might be like when untangled from his and Nicole’s union, and that unknown void near swallows him completely. Nicole might feel that Charlie dictated their life together, but almost all that he valued in his life came from her presence in it - not only their marriage, but his place of belonging in her family, as well as the inspiration and collaboration she provided for the theatre company. He is cut adrift, alarmed and helpless, by the speed of everything crashing to bits just before his eyes. No matter your opinions on his choices or his suitability as a husband, it’s impossible not to be moved to sympathetic heartache when you see how deeply the largest revelations shock and wound him - Nicole’s lawyer threatening to claim full custody; the moment when he fully realizes he’ll never return to the life he thought normal in New York with Henry and breaks down in silent tears. 

As the movie progresses, this struggle to process, respond, and adjust has broken him down so completely that we see it manifested physically in the scene where he cuts his arm with the pocketknife. It’s accidental, and yet his ensuing solitary struggle in the kitchen to stem the bleeding and dress his own gaping wound before collapsing could not be a more direct embodiment of how thoroughly the divorce proceedings have torn his life and very being asunder.

While Nicole was the one who had seemed to struggle with realizing, claiming, or even understanding what it is she wants - it isn’t until the scene towards the end where Charlie sings “Being Alive” that the realization and understanding of his new reality - the things he’s lost, the ways these losses have changed him - becomes clear to him. Nicole needed to separate from Charlie because she realized she had become subsumed in his being, and she knew she deserved to be more than simply an extension of him. While she explained to her lawyer towards the beginning of the film how she has felt “dead inside,” “Being Alive” towards the film’s close is the first time Charlie himself truly reckons with the future stretching before him independent of Nicole. While Nicole has finally claimed her own “aliveness,” now Charlie is left to be the one questioning what makes life worth living, and how he will maintain his own “aliveness” without the presence of that love that was once so grounding. 

His singing.... GOD it was even more heartrending than I remembered. Aside from his voice being way more lovely than is even fair, Adam’s delivery is somehow moving to the core without seeming even for a moment contrived or self-aware. You see Charlie literally losing himself in the words he’s singing - see the grief and loss creeping up higher within him until the song possesses him completely. He doesn’t shed a tear in this scene, but his eyes seem to hold all the anguish in the world.

What made this second viewing a bit extra painful were the moments when I asked myself “Damn, what did he tap into in himself to embody this character’s hurt and loss so deeply?” And then I’d think about the New Yorker article where Adam said this role made him think about his own father and all the things his father didn’t do or the ways his own father didn’t fight for him the way Charlie does. No thank you to those feels... ;______;

I’m still stunned by this film - by its nuance and humanity. By the way it paints multifaceted characters who come alive with the ease of people you’ve known your whole life. By the truly stellar, deeply moving performances by Adam and Scarlett. (It will be a long time before I see anything that will move me as profoundly as Adam’s “Being Alive” rendition.) By the way it highlights the beauty in everyday acts of love and human connection - and how enduring those moments are, despite whatever may come.