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#if you have a good argument for it then please tell me
stxrvel · 1 day
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the routine (4)
heeeey guys. this is a short one but i wanted to share something with you, since it's been a while! it's getting harder to write, but i found some peace of mind today so i wanted to give you this. hope u like this! love u all and hopefully see u next time. i promise it's gonna get better, just give me some time :(.
summary: trying to settle into life after what happened has proven to be just as difficult for both you and Azriel… pairing: azriel x fem!reader words: 1.5k warnings: still just angst.
part 1: the cliff
part 2: the house
part 3: the court
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There was something bittersweet hanging around your house since that argument with your parents. It had been a week since you had returned and, sadly, things didn't feel as good as they used to. You didn't expect you all to be exactly the same either, you and your parents had been through specific times that wouldn't allow them to ever be the same again, especially when they were so reluctant for you to return to the Night Court. Even you didn't know if you would be completely ready to do so in the near future.
One good thing was that, during those days, you had learned to manage your emotions to keep them from running strongly through the bond you shared with Azriel so as not to overwhelm him. Perhaps it was the only thing that had distracted you during that time from rethinking what had happened, even more than your parents' attempts at conversation.
There was also the matter of the shadows. You knew they were Azriel's, you thought they belonged to him, but some of them were constantly accompanying you, and they got scares out of your father from time to time.
Going back to your parents was supposed to bring you peace, but you felt calmer every time you looked at the tattoo running down your arm and the promise Azriel had made to you with crystallized eyes.
“I hear your thoughts all the way over here, you know?”
You lifted your head, blinking faster. The wind caressed your cheeks and moved your loose hair, for a moment forgetting where you were. Shadows gathered around your feet.
“I'm sorry, did you say something?”
Alya had a posture with her arms up, sending you a curious look. Your childhood friend barely needed to hear the tones in your voice to know when you were lying, but she seemed to want to let it go that time. The people around you didn't seem to know how to deal with the conversations when word got out that you were back, but Alya had a talent for knowing when to touch on topics and when not to.
“Several things,” her body moved toward the fruit baskets, taking the last basket in her arms and starting to walk in the opposite direction. “My brother got married.”
“Really?”
“And he has children.”
“Really?”
“Twins.”
You let out a laugh, remembering Alya's rebellious older brother. Your visits to her house were always accompanied by the constant whining and fighting between Trav and his parents because he didn't want to start a family in the near or distant future. He was so insistent about it, even though it was the only thing his parents wanted. According to Alya's accounts, it was impossible for him not to start imagining that future when he met his mate.
“What about you?”
“Ah, no, please, no. There is nothing interesting to tell about my life. I assure you that Mrs. Taylors had a more exciting life for the past few years than I have,” Alya and you arrived at her mother's fruit stand, where she dropped the last basket of goods you had helped her move all morning. You marched beside her, detailing the look of nonchalance she was trying so hard to maintain.
“It couldn't have just not happened. It was… too many years,” despite the boastfulness with which you wanted to carry the conversation, your voice reached to cut off finishing the sentence. Alya turned to look at you, her worried eyes analyzing your face before grabbing your wrist and walking away from the fruit stand.
“You know you don't have to pretend around me, right?”
Alya closed the door to her house behind her. Her family had gotten a very homey house right in the heart of the city's commerce and they kept their very well kept stall right in front of it. Every corner of the place felt like a home because of the great dedication and love her whole family put into it. Even when her brother was missing, it seemed that the house had not lost any strength or presence.
Maybe that's why you felt a wave of longing and nostalgia hit your body, leaving you more vulnerable than you had been the last few days.
“Living with my parents hasn't been so great,” you began, lowering your gaze with a frown. Alya had moved into the kitchen and you had happily settled down on the counter right in front of the stove. Your hands in front of you on the white ceramic were moving nervously, interlocking and clattering your nails on the hard material. “After so long I thought that… I thought that nothing would change when I came back. I thought we'd be even closer together than before, I even thought we'd sleep together. I spent so many nights… alone and so cold. I couldn't bear the thought of going back and having to go through that kind of torturous loneliness again.”
Alya moved in front of you, setting aside the tea brewing to clasp her hands in yours, still twitching in nervousness and anxiety. Her expression was no longer one of dread as she noticed shadows moving around you.
“Is it because of him?”
You nodded, and acknowledging it once again was no less painful.
“It's illogical, I think,” Alya rested her arms on the ceramic, frowning slightly. The warmth of her hands, even though it wasn't a bit chilly in her house, brought you just enough coziness to try to soothe your heart. It reminded you of that moment at the border of Court Day next to Azriel. “After so long without seeing you, why not take advantage of the indefinite time you'll be with them? They stress too much about something that could happen in two decades, even.”
“I've tried to tell them, but I don't think they'll be happy until I tell them I'm not coming back.”
“What about him?” Alya cocked her head to one side, and at your confused look added, “He wouldn't be willing to come?”
“What? No. I couldn't even suggest it to him,” you shook your head as soon as the words left her mouth.
“Why not?”
“His whole life is in that court, Alya. Asking him to give it all up for me just because I wouldn't be willing to do it for him, wouldn't that be too selfish?”
“You must keep in mind that you've been through special circumstances. If he really feels a quarter of the bond love, then he won't mind giving up everything for you.”
“I don't want to talk about this anymore. The tea is going to dry up.”
Alya shifted letting out a gasp of surprise.
“Fine. But you have to keep in mind that it's not just about you now. You're not alone anymore. You don't have to make decisions for him or stop making them because it's not just your feelings you have to be careful with.”
-
Azriel still didn't understand how Mor had convinced Tarquin and Rhysand to meet for that reunion on the day you finally returned home, but he was immensely grateful that she had been able to negotiate the terms down to the last instance. The same thing he would've done.
“Are you ever going to see him again?”
“Not as long as I live.”
The aforesaid appeared at the training camp when Azriel was taking some time away from the crowd of people living in the Town House. He would never have believed that he would rather strain his body until he passed out just so he wouldn't have to meet Rhysand's or Cassian's face at every corner. The blood in his veins burned as if it had poison in it, one step away from starting to spit in their directions as if they were the only ones to blame for everything that had happened.
As if he needed to find a culprit for your departure.
But there was no one to blame. It had been your decision. And every day since then Azriel's sentence became significantly larger and more tedious to carry. The worst part was not even knowing when that ordeal would end. Living with that bitterness in his heart and that emptiness in his soul, he didn't believe there could ever be peace in his relationship with his brothers. No one in the house overlooked that.
"She's fine," Mor changed the subject abruptly, knowing exactly how to appease the flame of his anger.
Azriel nearly melted with his forehead against the punching bag. His shoulders slumped in momentary relaxation, the only relaxation he'd allowed himself to have since you'd left.
“You saw her?”
“Yes, she was spending time with her friends. She was smiling. Laughing. She looked happy.”
Azriel had to fight the whine that wanted to escape his lips. He shook his head in assent, trying to keep the emotions at bay, sending a silent thank you through the masses of air. He felt his heart squeezed inside his chest. Every day was a constant uncertainty because he couldn't even feel her anymore…
Mor had to travel weekly to Summer because one of the terms of their agreement with Tarquin required it and for the last three weeks all Azriel had been waiting for was news about you, to know that you were well, that you looked well, that you were really happy there, at home… away from him.
“You know that doesn't imply that she wants to forget you, right?”
The mere implication made his head fall back on the sack. Azriel tried to nod, feeling the words and his own emotions choking him. His body would become an inert object at some point, that much he knew, because he couldn't spend too long living like this. He couldn't even imagine it, if he was just beginning the period that could last for years, even centuries for all he knew.
“I know…” his voice came out choked, almost mistaken for a sigh. “I know.”
He repeated again to himself.
Azriel dreaded knowing how things were going to be from now on.
-
taglist: @isa1b2h3 @naturakaashi @anuttellaa @tele86 @amysangel @fxckmiup @inloveallthetime @fightmedraco @railingsofsorrow @fandomarchiveilyd
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dixons-sunshine · 12 hours
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hi I just wanted to start with I really love your writing its just so good. I do have a request and if your not interested its okay it is angst but with a possible happy ending.
so its a daryl x reader where before the apocalypse r and daryl were together and they ended things right before everything went to shit and then when the group gets to Alexandria r is there and she has kid/s (maybe twins?? boy and girl??) so turns out r found out she was pregnant right when everything started happening so daryl didn't know and idk he like puts two and two together yk? and if you're okay with it can she be hispanic/ latin (maybe that can be one of the reasons they broke up bc yk merl is an ass to POC)
anyways sorry if that was a lot or didn't make sense
anyways have a good day/night much love <3
Two Plus Two Makes Four | Daryl Dixon x Hispanic!Fem!Reader
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Summary: A week before the apocalypse, Daryl was forced to break up with you by Merle, leaving you heartbroken, but not alone—soon after he left, you found out you were pregnant. Now, two years later, you come face to face again with the man that broke your heart, and he finds out something shocking.
Genre: Angst, some fluff towards the end.
Era: Alexandria, pre Saviour arc.
Warnings: Swearing, mentions of pregnancy and childbirth.
Word count: 1.3k
A/n: Sorry this took so long to finish. I hope this is good enough to make up for the wait! Please note that I used Google translate for this, so the translations may be incorrect or awkward! Feel free to correct me if you spot any mistakes! (Translations will be at the bottom.)
“Kids?! Ya were pregnant and ya didn't fuckin' tell me?!” Daryl bellowed angrily, grabbing your arm to halt you from walking away from him.
You ripped your hand from his grip. “¡No me toques!” You spun around, furiously pointing a finger in your ex boyfriend's direction. “Don't you even dare put this on me, Dixon! You left. You walked out because you cared more about your brother's opinion than you did me! I'm sorry I wasn't gonna baby trap a man who didn't wanna be with me!”
“I deserved to know! I missed two years of their lives 'cause ya didn't tell me! I could of been there fer 'em, for ya, but ya chose to keep it from me!” Daryl exclaimed angrily, following you as you walked into your kitchen. “How could ya keep tha' from me?!”
“You chose to run to your brother the first chance you got! Four years down the drain in an instant for that racist asshole. I didn't owe you anything after that, maldito idiota!”
Daryl stopped in his tracks, instantly regretting starting up this particular argument. You spoke nothing but the truth. You didn't owe him anything. After all, it was him who walked out on you. He chose to let Merle's judgement get to him and influence his relationship. Hell, if it weren't for Merle, he would have proposed to you. He already had a ring picked out and everything back then, but he let Merle ruin everything. It was his own stupidity that cost him two years of his children's lives.
“Mama?”
At the sound of a small, timid voice coming from behind you, both you and Daryl turned and came face to face with your kids, your two year old twins. Your son, Luka, was nervously looking up at you and Daryl while your daughter, Camilla, was standing behind him, holding his hand.
Daryl was struck by the similarities both children shared with him. They both had his eyes, and his hair colour. They were spitting images of him. There was no doubt in his mind that these two children were his. He wasn't blind. He could see they were.
“Everything's fine, amores. I'm just having a conversation with Mr Dixon.”
Camilla stepped forward, her eyes lighting up with wonder. She looked up at Daryl, a smile spreading across her chubby cheeks. “Dixon?” she asked, pointing up at him. “Papa?”
Daryl was surprised. He looked up at you in confusion, silently asking for an explanation. You sent him a strained smile, forcing a relaxed look in front of your children.
“I always talk about you. They deserve to know who their father is. Well, who he was before he left me,” you explained, looking back down at Camilla and Luka.
“Papa?” Luka asked as he stepped forward, his blue eyes that reflected Daryl's sparkling with wonder. “Our papa?”
Daryl looked at you for permission, not wanting to overstep any boundaries. You nodded, silently giving him permission. He was their dad, after all, and he had just as much right to have a relationship with them as you, even if he did leave you. However, that was between him and you, and your children didn't deserve to be denied a relationship with their dad because of it.
The archer bent down, looking between Luka and Camilla as they stared at him in wonder. “Yeah, m'yer papa. M'sorry I wasn't here before, but m'here now. I ain't goin' nowhere.”
Daryl wasn't sure how much of his speech they understood, if they understood anything at all, but it didn't matter. The speech was mainly meant for you. It was to let you know that he wanted to be a part of their lives, and there was just about nothing that could stop him from that.
Camilla and Luka, as if having some sort of twin power, both simultaneously rushed forward and into his arms. Daryl wasted no time in hugging them back, somehow managing to pick them both up and rest them comfortably in his arms. It was relatively late, nearly eight at night and well past their bed times, so they rested their heads on his shoulders, making Daryl's heart swell with fondness. They didn't even know him, only having heard of him through the stories you told them, but they already trusted him. And even though he just found out he had kids, he would kill for them.
“We need to talk, sunshine. This ain't somethin' we can just sweep under the rug,” he told you, allowing you to take Luka from his arms to lighten the load. He adjusted his hold on Camilla, letting out a fond chuckle when he heard her yawn and nuzzle her face deeper into his shoulder.
You let out a sigh and nodded. “I know. But let's get these dormilones to bed first.”
Approximately half an hour later, the twins were tucked into bed and asleep. You and Daryl were back in the kitchen, both having a glass of wine in your hands—liquid courage for the conversation you were about to have.
“M'sorry fer leavin' ya,” Daryl broke the silence first, nervously sloshing the liquid around in his glass. “I dun' even know why I did. Merle's opinions should've never influenced our relationship. I loved ya. I still do. I regret leavin' ya more than anythin' else in my life.”
You inhaled deeply, willing the tears away. For two years you had wanted an explanation, and now you were finally getting one. However, hearing him admit that he still loved you, that you weren't stupid for still loving the man who broke your heart, was both relieving and hurtful.
“You hurt me, Daryl,” you whispered, feeling a lump form in your throat. “I get that Merle was your brother, but you should've never let him influence you like that. I had to go through everything alone. Do you know how hard it was being pregnant and fighting for my life against the dead out there? Do you know how terrified I was? I was lucky enough to find Alexandria a couple of days before I gave birth. If I didn't, I would've given birth out there with the walkers. I probably would've died. Camilla and Luka too.”
Daryl felt the guilt gnawing at his insides. He really hated himself at that moment. “M'sorry, sweetheart. I really fuckin' am. I promise I won't leave again. I dun' expect you to give me a second chance. God knows I dun' deserve it, but I promise I'll be here fer ya and the lil ones. I ain't ever gon' let ya down again, I promise.”
You gave him a small smile, reaching over to take his hand in yours. You rubbed your thumb over his knuckles, something you always did whenever the two of you had a serious talk. “Give me some time, Daryl. I still love you, but I need some time to adjust to the idea of 'us' again. It's been just me and the twins for two years. As far as I knew before today, I thought I wouldn't see you ever again. Just focus on the kids for now, okay? They deserve to know their daddy.”
Daryl's lips twitched up into a smile, and he nodded. “I'll wait as long as ya need me to. I ain't ever gon' let anyone influence us ever again, I can assure ya of tha'. And I ain't ever gon' leave ya to raise 'em alone, never.”
➳༻❀✿❀༺➳
¡No me toques!: Don't touch me!
Translations (May be incorrect! Please feel free to correct me if they are!):
maldito idiota!: fucking idiot!
amores: loves.
dormilones: sleepyheads.
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justivik · 1 day
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; italian boyfriend! yandere x fem! reader
english isn't my first language
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You have been in a relationship with Matthew for 7 months. You have lived very nice moments like going out to fancy restaurants or cooking together on a Saturday night, no doubt you felt very lucky to have him by your side but there was something that caught your attention about him.
His pathological jealousy.
He would tell you that he trusted you but not others, it seemed like all day long he was suspicious of all the men and even women who surrounded you and maintained a friendship with you. It seems like an endless loop when you two fight, it was always suspicions on his part against you. The two of you would fight, make up and end up getting intimate. Almost like that Katy Perry song; you loved your boyfriend and you were determined to put an end to that intense jealousy so you could have a stable relationship…. Or that was your idea. You two went back to the same fight with the same theme, his distorted suspicions showing with every word and look he directed at you.
“Understand me, coure mio. I feel that your new coworker is trying to flirt with you, I've seen how he looks at you and how he tries to have some friction with you and that makes me feel…. disgustato!” He shouted whispering the last word so as not to attract the attention of the next door neighbors, with his eyebrows furrowed and his jaw tighter.
“He has no other intentions, Matt. He's already engaged to his partner and he was just being nice.”
“Being nice, being nice! You're lying! He was looking at you with other intentions and his touches were not friendly. No touch from a man who is not me is friendly.” He said.
You watched as he brought his left hand to his face with an annoyed sigh, his eyelashes pointing downward as his lips traced inaudible whispers. You stood in silence as Matt tried to calm his fit of jealousy, his hands clenched and his jaw went back to the same tense state. He sat down on the couch closer and looked at you, his sweet eyes were now darkly bitter, he opened his lips to say something again.
“Ti amo, e ho bisogno che tu mi capisca that he is not a good man, stay away from him and don't talk to him anymore. He is not a good influence and look at the problems he is bringing.”
You love it when he speaks Italian and he knows the power of saying sweet words to you in his native language. He knew how to manipulate you quickly and easily, making you nervous and blushing but this time you weren't going to let him, you were tired of the same arguments.
”He's not guilty of anything, Matt. Work on your fucking jealousy before we break up this relationship and we're more broken than anything.” You looked into his eyes and how they turned from angry to scared of losing you.
Desperate babbling was coming out of his mouth, head tilted from side to side in a no.
“If you leave me, I'd die! Don't think stupid things, coure mio.” He kept flattering you with words as soft as a rose but painful as its thorns.
“Stay with me, please. I love you, not anyone else. You!”
You felt Matthew's arms around your waist, his face on your stomach and his tears staining your shirt. You sighed deeply and then stroked his messy hair and promised him that you would never leave his side. This time your fight ended in something more than fucking…It all happened so fast, but you were glad your fight didn't last more than an hour. You would have to do a lot of work with your boyfriend on his jealousy and insecurities.
“I'll never leave you, honey”
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My first post & open request!!!
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manheeiim · 2 days
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controlling? - rafe cameron
summary: ex-pogue!reader x kook!rafe - arguing with rafe over your pogue friends | warnings: toxic relationship, manipulation, drugs, rafe harshly grabs y/n's hand | genre: established relationship, angst | word count: approximately 1130
Rafe slammed the car door as he left me alone in the car, storming inside. He was pissed, really pissed, at me. We'd gotten into a big argument over my friends, whom were pogues. He hated me hanging out with them when I knew he hated them. I thought it wasn't fair since I was a pogue myself, originally at least, and since they were my friends.
I got out of the car, shutting it behind me as I trudged my way towards the house. I walked inside, looking for Rafe. I knew how he could get when he was angry but I just wanted to talk to him, even though I knew it'd probably end up in another fight. That's just how it was with Rafe.
I made my way down the hall, hearing some noises, and I saw Rafe, bent down in front of the counter, where some cocaine was poured on it in a line.
"Alright, alright. Just one." I could hear him whisper to himself.
I hated when he did drugs. I really did. I had enough bad experiences in my life with drugs, my family members overdosing and all of that, I didn't need that happening to him. That was my biggest fear.
"Rafe.." I quietly said as I hesitantly walked in. I walked over to him, "Please don't." I said as I walked closer to him.
"Y/n," Rafe looked up at me, looking annoyed. "Don't." He said, sniffing some of the cocaine.
I looked over and grabbed the small bag that had the remaining cocaine in it. He groaned as he got up, walking over to me, "What are you doing? Give it back to me." Rafe said.
"No." I told him, holding it away from him.
"Give it back." He then said before grabbing my hand harshly and forcing the small bag out of my hand. Rafe let go of me and walked a few steps away, pacing a little as he looked at me. "You know why I'm so upset right now?" Rafe then asked. I stayed silent. "Huh?" He said, wanting me to acknowledge him.
"What is it, Rafe?" I asked, letting out a sigh.
"You don't know how to listen to me." Rafe said and I just stood there, not really knowing what to say. "I tell you to not hang out with those dirty pogues, but you do it anyways." He then tells me.
"Don't say that." I said, hating when he called them "dirty pogues" since I was a pogue once too, and technically, I still am.
"No, I'm going to say whatever the fuck I want about them." Rafe harshly told me. "You go hang out with those people and look what happened, the cops got called to their little party, and I had to come get you." He scolded me as he continued to pace around.
"I'm sorry, Rafe." I said, letting out a small sigh.
"No, don't start with that shit, Y/n." Rafe said, walking closer to me. "I already have enough shit going on with the cops. My family has enough shit going on with the cops. I don't need you getting in trouble too. You got that?" He then asked. I stayed silent for a few moments, I understood where he was coming from. "You got that?" Rafe then asked again when I didn't answer him.
"Yeah." I said.
"Good." He sighed, going back to the table and kneeling down in front of it.
"I don't like you calling them "dirty pogues"." I blurted out and Rafe looked up at me.
"What?" He asked.
"I don't like you calling them "dirty pogues"." I repeated.
He let out a sigh as he got up again, coming over to me, standing directly in front of me as he looked down at me. "Yeah, well what else would they be?" Rafe asked.
"Good people. My friends." I said.
Rafe inhaled in frustration as he slowly blinked, "Yeah, and I hate that, you know that. They're always getting you in situations that you shouldn't be in." He told me.
"I know that they make bad choices sometimes, I do, but they're my friends, Rafe." I said. "Don't forget, that I knew them before I knew you. I was a pogue before I met you." I then told him.
Rafe closed his eyes for a second, taking a breath. I could tell he was really holding back. "You may have been." Rafe said. "But you're nothing like them. Especially not now." He sternly said, almost like he was trying to get me to believe that.
I don't say anything as I look away, he walks away, kneeling down by the counter again and sniffing some of the cocaine. I stay silent as I look down at my feet. I let out a shaky breath.
"You know what I don't like?" Rafe asked and I looked over at him, waiting for him to tell me. "I don't like you going around and doing whatever you want, completely disregarding me, your boyfriend, who's trying to do what's best for you." He told me.
"I'm sorry, Rafe. I know." I softly said, feeling bad. "I just.. why do you have to be so controlling?" I asked really quietly, hoping he didn't hear what I just said.
Rafe slammed his hands on the table, making me flinch as he stood up straight again. He walked over to me. "Controlling?" He repeated as he walked a few steps away, sniffing as he paced around the room. "Controlling?" He repeated, yelling this time, making me flinch. "I'm controlling for looking out for you?" He asked in a raised voice as he motioned towards himself. "All I do is make sure your safe, that you're healthy, that you're not being stupid and getting yourself into trouble, but all you do is defy me." Rafe scolded me as he walked over to me.
"I- I-" I didn't know what to say.
"Yeah, don't know what to say, huh?" Rafe stood in front of me. He looked at me for a few moments before sighing. "I do this because I love you. You know that, right?" Rafe asked and I nodded. "You know I'll take care of you. Alright?" He then asked and I just looked at him. "You don't need them. You have me." He said.
I looked at him for a few moments before I hugged him, wrapping my arms around his muscular torso and burying my face against his chest. His arms came around me as one wrapped around my torso and the other came up to my head, combing his fingers through my hair as he placed a kiss to my forehead.
I loved him, even if he wasn't good for me.
-- link to my masterlist
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hongjoongsart · 11 hours
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Too Sweet | Jeong Yunho
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🥃 Summary: Two complete opposites who are quickly falling for each other, one wanting more but the other afraid of all the things that could go wrong.
🥃 Pairing(s): upcoming rockstar!Jeong Yunho x F!Reader
🥃 Genres/Tropes: upcoming-rockstar au, opposites attract au, what could have been, fluff, angst, suggestive, hurt/no comfort
🥃 Warnings/Tags: Fem!reader, no use of Y/N, kinda yunho centric, hurt/no comfort, explicit language, insecure yuyu, use of alcohol, smoking cig, arguments, mingi is a good friend, mention of religion and satan, stereotypes about rockbands, post-orgasm conversations, making out and brief nipple play (f receiving), a lot of crying, not beta read and MDNI!!!
🥃 Wordcount: 19.9K
🥃 Author's note, pt.1: It's been a while....Here's a lil something inspired by hozier's too sweet. The way I have so many drafts for this story in different AUs. I couldn't decide whether to make it into an Idol AU or not, so I did a mix. 😭 It wasn't supposed to be that long either but apparently I have no limits when it comes to writing lmao. Keep in mind that I have little to no knowledge about instruments, rock bands, etc, so everything I know is from given (the anime), KISS and wikipedia. English isn't my first (or second) language, so if there are any errors please do tell.
AO3 masterlist Click on me!
This is all fiction and not meant to represent Yunho in any way or form.
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The first time Yunho laid eyes on you he knew you’d never be his. Not because of some ancient family feud forbidding you from one another or because you were star crossed lovers in a dystopian world. No, it wasn’t anything dramatic like that. 
You’d never be his because Yunho would simply not let it happen. 
Yunho jumped off the makeshift stage set up in the corner of the saloon that waited on them each Friday night and walked through the drunken crowd of people. The band finished their weekly gig at Crescent and were being treated to drinks by the owner for bringing such a big crowd to the bar. 
Slightly hunched over the counter, left forearm pressing against the smooth wooden surface while the other idly rested on his thigh and feet propped on the footrest, Yunho silently thanked the bartender for the drinks. One for him and the other for his bandmate seated to his right. The drummer brought a lot of attention to them, with his bleached hair styled to get that disheveled spiked look and handful of tattoos and piercings littering his body. Despite the flashy details, Mingi was quite the eye-candy. His thick lips and equally big and straight nose, made him popular with the ladies as well as the men, and not to mention his chiseled jaw. A big pair of shades covered his fox-eyes – he was too lazy to smudge some makeup on – and the miniature face tattoo reading ‘fix-on’ inked on his cheekbone, unlike the big butterfly on his neck that was fully exposed. 
Yunho usually didn’t like sitting at the corner of the long bar, but it provided more space for his long legs and a better view to the rest of the room which, on second hand, he was grateful for otherwise he’d miss the door opening and the group of girls coming through. Each was different from the other, he thought as he skimmed past them only to back track at the last one trailing in.
Staring at you from across the room – a place he never imagined a speck of purity in – he swiveled the drink in hand, allowing the whiskey to swish around in the bottom before tipping his head back and letting some of the brown liquor cascade down his throat. Despite having a speaker right above his head, your angelic laughter still managed to reach Yunho’s ears and it was better than any melody performed by the next indie group. Eyes wandering down your figure, body clad in a white sundress with a pattern of miniature pink roses, he stopped at the heart shaped front giving a little tease of what hid beneath. The fabric hugged tightly around your torso and hips, then widened like a flower in bloom and stopped right above your knees. A gold necklace with a delicate heart pendant rested subtly near the crevic of your chest. Arms and legs bare, only a matching golden bracelet glinting on your right wrists and nails painted in white. You wore the cutest pair of pink ballet flats Yunho had ever seen and it brought a little smile to his face.
“What are you smiling about?” Mingi asked with a teasing tilt to his voice, a brow curiously arched and bottom lip stuck between his teeth.
Yunho shook his head and took another calculated sip of his drink. 
“Nothing.”
“Right, so you didn’t just plan a marriage with the angel-look alike overthere, huh?” Mingi nodded towards the girls who were inching closer to an empty table. “She seems sweet.”
And sweet you were. Oh, so sweet. From your strawberry lip gloss to the notes of your brown sugar and vanilla perfume lingering in the air. Eyes twinkling in the dim lights and nose scrunching before a giggle came out at one of your friends’ jokes, hand automatically going up to cover your mouth.
“Well,” Mingi started and tapped his fingers against the bar, “if you’re gonna shoot your shot about now would be the time to do it.”
On cue you passed the two giants and stopped to the left of Yunho where you could get a clear view of the bartender, and hopefully catch his attention. Being the one to cancel the last outing, you took it on yourself to pay for the first round of drinks as a way of apologizing to the girls even if they didn’t chastise you for it. 
You were prettier up close, Yunho thought as he scanned your profile. Pretty lips, gorgeous eyes and captivating makeup. 
“Hey,” he finally said and slightly turned towards you. 
A friendly smile splayed on his face and ears were slightly red either from his drink or the warmth from the heavily packed bar. Never one to turn down a conversation, you greeted him back with upturned lips and faced the front again. Luck wasn’t on your side as the bartender brushed past you on multiple occasions, eyes filtering over you as if you weren’t there. Not giving up, you let out a huff of annoyance and stepped closer. Standing on your tiptoes – not that you needed it, but maybe then you’d get his attention – and arms crossed over the surface you followed his movements, eyes burning into him but to no avail. The man took order after order and not once did you get the chance to speak up. Yunho, who watched the whole thing play out, slightly raised his hand and the bartender spawned before him in seconds. Lips parted in disbelief, you couldn’t believe how easy the dark haired man made it out to be. There you were, waiting like a dog for a crumb of attention while he got it with a lift of his fingers.
“This pretty lady has been wanting to order for a while now,” Yunho stated calmly, yet his eyes were hard as steel. 
Saying nothing, the bartender turned to you with a raised brow, quietly urging you to spit it out. 
“Two mojitos, one martini and mai tai, please.” As the bartender got to work, you thanked the guy with the helping hand.
“No worries, it tends to get rather busy here on Fridays…That’s a lot for just one lady though.”
“Well, this lady didn’t come alone.”
In any other circumstance, Yunho would interpret the statement as snarky and a telltale of not being interested but your soft spoken words said the complete opposite. 
“Ah, there go my plans of buying you a drink.”
Taking a better look at the man you realized he was quite handsome. Face full of delicate features; a long nose, thin cupid’s bow mouth and eyes soft but dark as the handful of oak trees outside. The smokey makeup fit the whole wanna-be-rock-star-look and so did the ring protruding from the left side of his bottom lip. His mass of black and burgundy hair was ruffled up and parted in the middle, revealing his forehead. Blue pants with interesting design swirls fit around his legs and he wore a black sleeveless shirt that showed off his perfectly formed biceps and shoulders. A bunch of silver necklaces hung around his neck and each finger was adorned with one or two rings; some thin and plain, and others thick and covering whole digits. So not only was he handsome, but had a good fashion sense too. All he was missing was the sleeve of tattoos and you’d dub him a real rock star. Eyes crinkling and lips pursing in an almost teasing manner, you decided to take a huge leap of faith. 
“Who’s to say you still can’t?”
The teasing remark indicated you didn’t know he was a member of Blue Bird and it sent waves of relief through him. It wasn’t like he didn’t want you to know about the band, but most people that did only approached him because of it and not his personality. Starting a conversation with ‘fuck me like a rockstar’ quote unquote, wasn’t the best way to get into Yunho’s pants. 
“Perhaps the partner you came with.” 
Yunho’s chin rested against the palm of his hand, brows slightly raised and lips quirked up. 
“Lucky for you, it’s just me and my girlies.” 
“As much as I’d like to crash ladies night, let’s do this instead. I’ll give you my number and you text me when you’re feeling for another drink, on me, yeah?”
Like a moth drawn to a flame, you subconsciously leaned closer to him. Slightly swaying side to side with eyes trained on him, completely missing the entertained look on Mingi’s face who watched the interaction with glee. It wouldn’t be the first time they’d pick a person up from a night out, even upcoming rock stars had needs to quell, but something was telling Mingi you weren’t interested in a quickie in the bathroom. Forever engraving the image of his friend smiling at a girl that was the complete opposite of him, Mingi smiled. Perhaps you were the cube of sugar Yunho needed with his all too bitter coffee.
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The second time Yunho laid eyes on you he really wished for things to work out. That despite your differences you’d find a balance solid enough to keep a healthy relationship. While Yunho usually wasn’t a naive guy, his adoration towards you weighed heavier than any rational thought screaming at him to cut the interaction short. Wanting to bask just a little more in the sunlight that was you, Yunho decided – for once – to be selfish.
It was a Wednesday afternoon when you stepped foot in a, you wouldn’t call it a rundown neighborhood but it wasn’t that wellkept either. The playgrounds made for kids were far from eye-catching with the once vibrant colors taken over by rust that even you – an adult – wouldn't try out the rides. The navigation in your phone chimed as you entered a white building identical to the other structures and began climbing the several flights of stairs, re-reading Yunho’s instructions of how to get to his place. Chest heaving and cheeks ablaze, you sent three rapid knocks against the door. One would believe the resident’s surname to be somewhere near but that wasn’t the case as only the apartment number in metal was drilled on the wall beside. The door swung open and you were greeted by a smiling Yunho, the lip ring glinting in the corridor lights.
“Hey, I was worried you wouldn’t find your way here but you’re a pro.”
While you weren’t dressed in a cute sundress, you still looked as sweet with your pink knitted sweater and light blue pants. What really took his breath away were the bright bows in your hair. If you were the sun then Yunho was the moon with his dark bottoms and identical hoodie thrown over the only bright fabric on his body. 
“Now you know not to underestimate me, Yunho.”
Hands thrown up in surrender, he walked backwards as you followed in tow. 
“Consider the lesson learned.”
The apartment was neater than expected – white walls, laminated flooring and a few family pictures hanging here and there – considering it was in the care of two guys and the interior proved that as the living room solely consisted of a sofa big enough for two with a small coffee table in the middle and the biggest plasma TV you had ever seen nailed to the wall. On the brightside there weren’t any dirty underwear or rotten leftovers lying everywhere.
“Well this is my place, or mine and my roommate’s, but still welcome.”
“It looks nice,” you honestly responded and that counted as a victory in Yunho’s books.
“Thank you, obviously I do all the furniture shopping. My friend isn’t all that interested in the interior of the place as long as we have somewhere to sit and sleep.”
The kitchen was shaped in an upside down L with black tiled floor starting from the threshold, the walls were still white. The slimmer and oblong part consisted of black marble counters and the usual mechanics that had a little shine to them telling you they cost a good penny. In the wider part of the kitchen was a round table and a set of four chairs. Black curtains were drawn together yet you could make out an empty balcony through the small gap. There weren't a lot of miscellaneous decorations in the place, as if the apartment was barely in use but to stay the night. Taking a seat by the dinner table, you rested your chin against your palms and smiled as Yunho opened the fridge.
“Ah, is that why there’s a massage chair in the hallway?”
The cold temperature chilled Yunho’s burning cheeks. Collecting himself, he slid you a can of coke and took out the rest of the preparations he needed to make dinner.
“That’s one of Yeosang’s many dumb investments, once again why I’m in charge of the interior.”
“He’s the one with the neon green hair, right?” You recalled as the different faces came to mind. 
“Yup.”
It dawned on you that all of Yunho’s friends were strikingly handsome, but Yeosang was by far the prettiest. With a face of both sharp and soft features he was sculpted better than any ancient Greek statue, and possessed a jaw sharp enough to cut through skin. His eyes were large and dark but with a gentle shape to them, just like his heart shaped lips. A raspberry smudge bloomed by the side of his upper cheek, another pretty and heart shaped detail to his already unique face. His hair was long enough to be tucked behind his ear with some neon green strands falling in his line of sight. This man could very well fit in the Louvre and no one would bat an eye.
The afternoon continued pleasantly as dinner was made. Yunho, who had barely any cooking knowledge, relied on you who relied on an online recipe. Saving you the trouble of accidentally burning down the kitchen, Yunho decided to cut up vegetables and prepare the table while you were responsible for the chicken and ramen that turned out great considering neither having prior-experience of making a real meal. The success was celebrated with a brand new flask of wine that Yunho apparently saved for special occasions, completely dismissing your protests.
“So what does the Yunho do for a living?” 
The question wasn’t foreign to him as everyone back in Gwangju asked it – some out of spite and others with genuine curiosity – yet anxiety seeped under his skin, raising the hair along his arms as his doe eyes widened. Noticing the lack of mischief behind your choice of words, he willed himself to relax and masked the surprised expression with a smirk.
“Wouldn’t you like to know?”
“Considering we barely know anything ‘bout each other…yes.”
Despite having alcohol in your system you noted the hesitation flash across his features, shoulders sagging and fingers slightly clenching around the utensils. It hit you that everything besides his governmental name – and the fact that he lived with a roommate who was working late – was undisclosed. For a moment you entertained the idea of Yunho going under a false name or that you could possibly be on a date with a geondal. Why else would he invite you to his home and not somewhere public? You made a mental note to share your location in the group chat just to be on the safer side. The motion of his hand going to scratch the back of his neck plunged you out of your wild fantasies.
“Okay, but it might come as a shock…or not, we’ll see.”
That did not help his geondal-agenda and Yunho took notice of your sudden silence, quickly waving his hand in a no-motion.
“It’s nothing bad I promise. It’s just…not a normal nine to five job and it’s, well, not many are supportive of it and it doesn’t…pay much.”
The piece of chicken in your mouth wasn’t as satisfying anymore. Thinking it probably couldn’t hurt to know considering he was so willing to share it, you slowly nodded. Instead of giving an immediate answer, Yunho inhaled deeply and ran his hand through his black locks.
“I’m the lead guitarist of Blue Bird with three other guys…and Yeosang’s our manager.” Yunho scratched the back of his head, “I’m sorry for not saying anything earlier but I figured you didn’t know and I wanted to keep it that way so you wouldn’t build an image of me based on what other people say. Now that I’m saying it outloud I realize how dumb that was and quite selfish of me and I’m sorry if that offends you?”
“Oh, oh!  Not that all! It explains a lot actually, I mean I thought you were just dressing as a rockstar but now that I know you’re one, let’s just say it makes sense.”
The sincerity brought him ease and eyes turned soft again. Yunho never blushed but his ears always gave him away, currently glowing red like the organic tomatoes in the cornershop and lips pulled in a gentle smile. The whole exchange was going smoother than anticipated and he only hoped it wouldn’t ruin the friendship you built up so far.
“Plus, it’s not that far from what I had in mind,” you continued.
“And dare I ask what you would guess then?”
“Fine, but you can’t laugh at me for it, promise?” 
Reaching over the table you held out your pinky finger, waiting for him to latch onto it with his own.
“I wouldn’t dream of it, darling.”
Ignoring the swarm of butterflies fluttering in your stomach, you took a sip of the red wine and cleared your throat.
“A body artist.”
Almost choking on his ramen, Yunho coughed and recovered before you could think much of it.
“I think you’ve got the wrong impression. I’m not anywhere near suitable for that job, like I hate the feel of shit piercing skin and I can’t draw for the life of me.”
“Well, I blame the rings and clothes. And besides, what is it really that determines how good of an artist you are? I mean art is a personal thing, just like music, right? Obviously not everyone’s going to like everything you do but it doesn’t mean it’s badly done. So I don’t think it’s a question of how good you are, rather a question of personal taste.”
Speechless. You had rendered him speechless. A few years ago, when Yunho revealed he wouldn’t be applying for college and would try the one in a million chance of becoming a superstar, everyone was against it, claiming that the career wouldn’t last long and he’d eventually return back to Gwangju empty handed (not to mention the claims he was being possessed by Satan). The only one giving him enough support to cover for his absent family was Yeosang, who followed Yunho to Seoul, and now you, practically a stranger he hadn’t even known for more than a few weeks.
As you looked up from your bowl, you were startled at his baffled expression and immediately put down your utensils. 
“Did I say something wrong?”
His heart beat loud in his chest and palms grew sweaty under your curious gaze. Mouth parted as he struggled to answer the question and finally settled on an awkward chuckle. 
“No, it just…caught me off guard,” he assured and quickly averted the spotlight on you. “Enough of me, I want to know more about you. Tell me, what do you do then, is it something more exciting than dancing in a room all day?”
“I don’t know about that, but it’s nothing cool like yours–”
“And I wouldn’t think anything less of you either way.”
Smiling like a thousand suns you said, “I’m a preschool teacher.”
Of course, Yunho thought, even your line of work had to be cute. It was only right for a kind soul like yours to be at a place surrounded by everything innocent and pure. Although Yunho liked performing and singing in front of others, staying awake until the early hours of the morning, perfecting different riffs and learning new pitches of singing, he didn’t like how it added to the growing distance between you. 
“Would you look at that, I think you’re even sweeter now.”
You took a bite of the food as you let the revelation sink in. The compliment getting to your head and warming your cheeks. You had been called every sweet adjective under the sun. Cute, endearing, angelic, the words were a repetitive mantra in your life but hearing them from Yunho made you feel like a high schooler buzzing to jump in bed and just write down the whole conversation – dotting your ‘i’s with hearts and stars – to read back in a couple of years and remember the affection bestowed on you.
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Waking up to the motion of his phone buzzing violently beside his head, Yunho groaned and pressed the off button without checking the caller ID. He mentally cursed Mingi for being an early bird and not knowing how to respect others' boundaries. The sun creeped through the blinds in his room, reflecting in the body length mirror and hitting him right in the eyes. Yunho covered his head with one of the many pillows surrounding him. A few seconds later his phone went off again and he gave up on catching some extra z’s. Sitting up, hair messy and face puffy, he rubbed the sleep from the corners of his eyes and squinted at the bright screen of his phone. The numbers showed 10:03 AM and below was your name followed by a picture of you staring at a sunflower stopping a few inches above your head. Entranced by the image he took of you a few days ago, when he was free from schedule, he startled as his home screen appeared with a message popping up seconds after.
You [10:06 AM] Does coffee sound like a good excuse to spend time together? :P
If there was one thing Yunho cherished more than his bed then it would be coffee. Black coffee that tasted bitter but warmed him up like a cup of hot chocolate. It dawned on him that he only got around four hours of sleep and he needed at least six to function like a guy who gets the recommended amount, but saying no to you was worse than making a kid cry by simply offering a smile.
Yunho [10:08 AM] Do you even need to ask? I’ll pick you up in ten 
Yunho [10:08 AM] Btw you don’t need an excuse to see me ;)
He threw on random clothes scattered around the room, a white shirt and black pants – but not before giving them a few excessively sniffs – and his obligatory leather jacket, the one with fuzz on the inside. Falling asleep with wet hair came to bite him in the rear as the strands wouldn’t cooperate now, refusing to lay down tidely. Lucky for Yunho, nine out of ten times he could just cover it with his helmet. Catching one last look in the mirror he sighed at the dark circles under his eyes. He quickly ventured into his bathroom and dragged the red-ish eyeliner pencil close to his lash line. It looked messy and nowhere near neat as when Seonghwa did it for him but it was alright. If you didn’t sneer at a sweaty Yunho with black liner smeared everywhere then you probably wouldn’t now either.
The sound of his motorcycle echoed through the block and he ignored the dirty looks passed from the elderly women sitting outside. As promised, Yunho was in front of your apartment with a few seconds to spare. He killed the engine and edged the kickstand into position with his left foot. While waiting on you, he unclasped the spare helmet from the chassis of the bike and made sure it was clean. Hongjoong, the leader and bassist of Blue Bird, had yet to get his driver’s license and would catch lift from the other guys which left everyone with a really small helmet in their possession. Yunho just hoped it would fit you.
The sound of someone clearing their voice caught his attention and as Yunho turned the breathe was knocked out of his lungs. He liked to think he was getting immune to the effect your skirts had on him, but no one warned him for the white lacy tank tops especially not when the material was hidden beneath your blue cardigan. Trying to play it off, he thrusted the helmet in your hands.
“I didn’t know you had a motorcycle,” you started and checked it out. 
Whatever brand it was, it looked cool. You especially liked how it played into Yunho’s rock star style and matched his hair; entirely black with red design stripes going from front to back.
“Are you okay with riding?”
The dirty thoughts were pushed to the far back of his mind as he reminded himself of who he was talking to. You weren’t just a random chick he picked up after one of his shows; figuratively. 
You hummed and stepped closer, your hand hovering over the seat. “I think so. As long as I don’t fall off.”
“As if I’d ever let that happen. Here, lemme help you with the helmet.” 
“It’s fine, Yuyu, you’ve proven yourself a gentleman multiple times and I think I can do this.”
Hearing nothing beyond the unexpected nickname, his brain crashed like a hard disk from overheating. Thoughts a jumbled mess where the only thing making sense was the new abbreviation of his name. Yunho gripped the helmet as if it were a lifeline keeping him from straying away with the tidal wave. The gentle touch of your palm against his brought him back to reality.
“Are you okay?” 
Chuckling like he always did when you caught him being weird, he shook his head and gently pushed the helmet over your own.
“Just a bit tired–” the worried scrunch of your brows stopped him mid sentence “–it’s nothing to worry about I promise. I’ll be back to normal after we get some caffeine pumping in my veins.”
“Were you sleeping? Oh, no, I woke you up, didn’t I? Yunho, I told you to tell me off when practices were running late!”
“And you know I’d never bring myself to do that, I like spending time with you.”
“And I’d rather not have you running on coffee and zero sleep! I could’ve just made myself a cup at home.”
“But then we wouldn’t be here enjoying each other’s company. Now, is this alright? Try shaking your head a bit and see if it's not too tight or too loose.”
You did as told and the headgear barely budged which earned you a thumbs up from Yunho. He then flicked the visor down and you let out a ‘hey’ in protest. Sucking on the inside of your cheek, you gingerly studied him. While he looked sleep deprived he didn’t act the part, and you didn’t know if he did it to keep you from worrying or if he was genuinely alright.
“It’s alright. Not too tight or loose, but listen! The coffee’s on me,” you declared and before he could protest you quickly filled the short silence, “or I’m never going with you anywhere again. I’m serious, Yunho.”
“...Only if you call me that again.”
“Call you what? Yunho?”
“No. The other thing, y’know…”
A smile broke out on your face when you realized what he was implying.
“Yuyu?”
The rockstar whipped his head so fast you thought he’d snap it off his neck.
“Oh, you are mean.”
“No, I just did what you asked me to!”
The inbuilt bluetooth did a great job transmitting your sugary laughter and God was he proud of himself for thinking ahead. He could never get enough of it and it was like music to his ears and it warmed him better than the sun of a summer’s day.
“Put this on.” He handed you his leather jacket.
“What about you?” 
“Don’t worry ‘bout me, I’m a big boy.”
Yunho helped you mount the motorcycle, giving you tips on how to swing your feet and where to hold so the whole thing wouldn’t fall over. Not that it was possible as his legs were glued to the pavement. 
“And your hands go here.” He grabbed your wrists and placed them around his stomach so your front was flushed to his back. “Don’t be afraid to hold on.” 
The contact had your face burning and you wondered if he was anywhere near as flustered. You wondered if he was always this touchy or was it some exclusive treatment. 
The local coffee shop you frequently visited or stopped by before your shift at the preschool wasn’t packed, which came as a surprise considering it was almost lunch hour but nothing you complained about.
“Okay, what are you getting?” You asked and gazed up at the oversized menu on the wall behind the workers. 
Maybe you’d get a strawberry macchiato or a caramel one, you couldn’t decide– oh, the matcha tea didn’t sound too bad either. Yunho hummed in fake wonder with his eyes trained on an oblivious you. He didn’t need to read the menu to know what he was getting.
“I think I’ll take a caramel macchiato, I mean I had the strawberry one last time so it’s only fair I try something else now,” you argued mostly to yourself and like your coffee choice, Yunho found the rambling to be cute.
“That makes sense but I don’t think there are rules for what you can drink and when you can drink it, sweetpea.”
Toes touching the wall and hands holding the counter for support, you tilted your head backwards and looked Yunho right in the eyes. The top of your head barely grazed his chest and he restrained himself from gently grabbing your hips. You were slightly taken back at the pet name that rolled off his tongue. You expected a lot but not that.
“Sweetpea? That’s a new one.” 
“I figured you’ve heard most of them so I wanted to try something new.”
Trying to keep your eagerness on the low you stifled a giggle. 
“Ahhhh, you wanted to stand out, is that it?” 
“I didn’t know it was a crime to speak my truth, I guess I’ll just have to call you something cheesy like petal or sweet cheeks.”
“If it makes you feel better, no one's called me either of those things, Yuyu. So you’re doing a good job at both standing out and being cheesy.”
The tips of his ears burned and Yunho internally groaned as all his thousand good comebacks flew out the window, and right when he thought he was going to embarrass himself the barista – unintentionally – swooped in and saved the day. 
“Welcome to Star’s Coffee, are you ready to place your order?”
Jumping abruptly from Yunho, you politely smiled and nodded.
“Yu–yes. I’ll take a caramel macchiato”
“Will that be hot or iced?”
“Iced please, and then we’ll take a…” 
“An iced americano,” Yunho quickly filled in, “Black with no milk, thank you.”
As agreed you swiped your card and paid for the drinks even if it hurt Yunho’s pride. Deciding to sit at a table by the window, he quickly ran ahead of you and pulled out a chair and beamed brightly. It fit right in with the other chivalrous gestures Yunho spoiled you with and while you weren’t used to being pampered, you could totally get behind it. Before he could occupy the seat across from you, the barista’s voice stole the spotlight as she called out your orders and he was already walking in her direction.
“A caramel macchiato for m’lady and an iced americano for the fine gentleman keeping her company.” 
You looked up at Yunho and thanked him through a giggle as he handed you the beverage. An identical paper cup was cradled in his hand, fingers wrapping all the way around and nearly making it as if he was holding air. He occupied the seat across from you and as he got comfortable, you jokingly raised the drink and smiled as the cups bumped against each other. Taking your first sips together, you waited for the sweetness to hit your tongue and cringed at the strong metallic taste that followed instead. 
“Oh, God that’s sweet,” Yunho exclaimed as the heavily sugared coffee exploded in his mouth. 
“And this is horrible! How can you, ugh– How can you even drink this? It’s strong and bitter and give me back my coffee!” 
“Coffee?! That’s like unicorn piss mixed with water and sugar, how can you drink that is my question.”
“At least it doesn’t taste like something straight out of my grandma’s garden,” you bit back and tried washing out the dirt-ish flavor with extra big sips of your so-called unicorn piss coffee. 
Spoiler: it didn’t help.
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“I don’t get it,” Mingi voiced from beside Yunho, fingers quickly fiddling with the joysticks on his Xbox controller.
The drummer looked nothing like on their nights out. Face bare from makeup and his usually gelled hair was combed and took on the resemblance of a cloud. Instead of skin tight clothes he had a worn out Fall Out Boy shirt he bought a few years back and paired it off with some loose fitted pajama bottoms. His neck and fingers were bare from kilos of jewelry, it was just his colored nails and chest tattoo that were still there. Yunho took ‘bare’ to another level as he walked around in his underwear and just a pair of Spiderman socks.
The boys sat on the sofa which was barely big enough to fit both of them, knees touching and eyes glued to the TV-screen. The gaming session had been running for at least an hour or two and the street outside Yunho’s apartment was slowly being emptied of cars and people.  Yunho would soon have to start getting ready for the dinner he invited you out to. Reservations were made at a little pricier restaurant for people with enough money to be deemed important or idols and celebrities who wanted some privacy from the prying eyes of locals and camera lenses. Yunho obviously didn’t have the money for it but with a few pulled strings and a call to his friend in the fashion industry, he made it work. 
“What don’t you get?” 
The question came a few seconds later and it wasn’t anything Mingi paid attention to as they were both occupied with protecting their base from demons and gargoyles. 
“Why you don’t just ask her out. You’ve been hounding her for like, what? Four months now?”
“I haven’t been hounding after her,” Yunho argued, the corner of his mouth tugging upwards in a sneer.
“Dude.” 
Pausing the game Mingi turned to his childhood best friend and the guy had the audacity to stare back at him with an equally deadpanned look.
“What? I haven’t.” 
“Don’t what me, Yunho. Is this thing serious or are you just having fun because from what I understand she’s not a one and done type of girl, is she?” 
Almost as if defeated, the lead guitarist slumped back against the couch and sighed. Mingi was right, you weren’t just a girl he picked up from a nightclub hoping for a quickie that would leave him waking up to an absent space the morning after. You were a girl who liked to take things slow. Three dates and maybe on the fourth one you’d reward him with a peck on the cheek. If he was lucky you’d hold his hand as you walk side by side, slowly unraveling each other’s preferences. Early bird or night owl, cats or dogs, sunrise or sunset, the list was endless and he’d know more about you than his own best friend by the end of the day. 
Gigs, parties and one night stands were fun. It was a fast life that made him feel alive, like he had a purpose being on stage besides signing autographs for random people or finding a minimum wage job. Then he met you, the girl with the pretty bows in her hair and an unhealthy addiction to strawberry flavored pocky rather than his cancer sticks, and realized you brought him that joy too. Through the jokes you could barely get out between your giggles or your affectionate yet worrisome words reminding him to drink two glasses of water for every cup of coffee he poured. And it was always a pleasant surprise waking up with you knocking on his door, a freshly baked batch of brownies in hand as you bid him a good morning despite it being three in the afternoon. It was the small things Yunho liked, but also despised, because if you were everything good – the white marble in his sack of charcoal – what was he?
“I don’t know,” Yunho finally answered.
“Don’t know if it’s serious or…?”
“I don’t know what I want. If I want a serious relationship or just someone to pass time with, and I know how that sounds; it’s fucking awful, and she doesn’t deserve that nor would she be up for it either. She dates to marry, and well, let’s be honest here I’m not the guy she wants to spend the rest of her life with anyway.”
Yunho pressed ‘resume’, seemingly putting a stop to the conversation he wasn’t currently in the mood for. A conversation he purposely avoided every single time Mingi questioned his lack of action with the exact words of ‘put a ring on her finger, man'. And it was funny the first three times then it just became a walking reminder of why Yunho precisely didn’t do it. Having had enough of his friend's stupid antics, Mingi stood up and parked himself in front of the TV. Hands on his hips and bottom lip jutted out.
“That’s bullshit, Yun. I get being indecisive. Your last serious relationship was ages ago and it’s weird going from being single to taken in one night, but the thing about not being the one for her? Don’t be fucking stupid.”
Growing agitated himself, Yunho paused the game again and tossed the controller onto the sofa as he looked up at Mingi with tired eyes.
“Yeah, what good can I bring her? Tell me, Mingi. I’m nothing. My sleeping schedule is fucked and I work more than twelve hours a day for a minimum pay. If it weren’t for Yeosang’s parents I’d practically be living on the street. I eat take out for breakfast, lunch and dinner and have no college degree and probably won’t be getting one anytime soon. She’s educated, has a respectable job and lives a healthy life that won’t coax her into bad habits. She shouldn’t be associated with someone like me. It isn’t ideal for her to be with me, it’s not safe.”
“Oh my God, would you shut the fuck up?”
Yunho startled at the sudden raise in tone, not expecting Mingi to get so worked up over nothing. 
“What does that even mean; too good for you? Yunho, dude, you’re the most selfless guy I know. You’re a kind, funny and quick witted gentleman who cares about those around you and always tries to make everyone smile, even if you’re going through shit yourself. So if you aren’t worthy of her then I should just stop looking for a partner all together! We are going to be rock stars, yeah, people look at us like we’re out of our mind or worship Satan, but that doesn’t mean you aren’t deserving of living like a human. And don’t even start with the homeless shit. I’d never let that happen…”
The little speech slapped Yunho across the face and only Mingi’s heaves of air resonated through the apartment. The two rarely got into arguments and while this conversation wouldn’t be jutted down as one, it still left Yunho at unease. Usually being the one to reprimand his friends, he didn’t know how to act while on the receiving end. Especially not when it was Mingi – the softie who took hours to eat a slice of bread and liked being called a princess – beating sense into him. 
“It’s true she’s good for you, Yunho, and I doubt she’d stay around if you weren’t good for her either. She’s kind, not gullible.”
On the other side of town you sat before your vanity mirror and carefully applied make up. Yuqi sat on your bed, fingers hastily scrolling through social media apps and updating you about the recent gossip at her workplace.
“I can’t believe you’re not telling me anything about this mysterious man!” Yuqi exclaimed from your bed, legs in a pretzel position and fingers frozen mid air as she stared at the picture you airdropped her. “And the fact that I only now find out you’ve been seeing someone, that hurts you know!”
It wasn’t intentional. You knew if you told them a super cute and handsome man asked for your number, they’d rush right up to the counter and harass any guy who fit your description which, admittedly, only a few did. After the long night out you were all tipsy and too focused on getting everyone safely home that the handsome stranger was pushed to the back of your mind and forgotten until the next day when you woke up to a message from an unknown number. 
Everyone was so caught up in their lives that you hadn’t thought of telling them about Yunho, then the whole rock star-identity was revealed and you certainly couldn’t tell them about him after that – already knowing what they thought about guys like that – not even your best friend who with just one glance knew something was different. Not necessarily bad, but just different. The outline of two massive hearts reflected in your eyes and you wore a smile so wide she thought you won the lottery, she didn’t stop to think the reason behind your gleeful expression could be because of a man. Not that you were an untouched woman, you had done a few things here and there, but because you were selective with your partners. So to hear you gave away your number and meet up with Yunho on multiple occasions piqued her interest.
“I told you it wasn’t on purpose! We were just both busy with work,” you pouted and applied mascara to your eyes.
“I know babes I’m just messing with you.”
Yuqi slumped back on your bed and tapped open your Instagram following list, quickly trying to find the guy you had been ‘unintentionally hiding’ from her.
“Are you like a thing now?”
“No or at least I don’t think so.”
Abandoning her search at your words, Yuqi put her phone down and stared at you through the mirror.
“What do you mean? Either you’re or you aren’t.”
“Well we haven’t really talked about that sort of stuff. When we go out we just let the conversation flow and I mean, it’s not like he’s explicitly asked me out on a date-date. And neither have I, for the record. We just go out for lunch or dinner, sometimes coffee, like we do with the girls.”
There was also the fact that he was going to be a rock-star who didn’t even have time to wipe his ass, let alone be in a relationship.
“Yeah, but I don’t invite you to my house and cook you an expensive dinner with expensive ass wine.”
“No, you’d rather tell me how you’d take me then and there if you weren’t painfully straight.”
She waved her hand in dismissal and pushed up to sit on her knees. “Guys don’t just do all those things if they aren’t interested, babes. You know that, you’ve dated a hundred guys before.”
“Yeah, but this is Yunho and not one of my previous dates. Maybe he just wants to be friends, like permanently.”
“You are insufferable. The guy likes you! I mean, you’ve already gone on a hundred mini-dates so this doesn’t come as that big of a surprise but why the hell would he ask you to dinner – only giving you the instructions to dress accordingly – on a Friday night if he absolutely wasn’t smitten with you?”
You sighed and closed the eyeshadow palette. In the softest voice possible you whispered out, “To get in my pants…” 
“Oh, sweetie.” 
Yuqi was up in seconds, throwing her arms gently around you and caressing the flesh of your biceps. 
“Guys are douchebags and I can’t say for sure but what you’ve told me about Yunho, he doesn’t sound like the type to do that.”
“I know but then I start thinking about the what’s and the if’s and it all leads back to that one thing. It would be easier if he just said what he was thinking and feeling out loud.”
“Considering you guys haven’t talked about more serious things, you don’t know each other on that level. You don’t know what’s going through his head, if he’s been wronged before or is scared of commitment, bubs. Maybe he’s scared you don’t feel the same and is trying to play it safe, waiting for a sign that indicates you want more.”
Or maybe he was scared of what his bandmates would say, what their little group of fans would say. Maybe he wasn’t interested in girls like you at all, mayne he was drawn to the…flashier ones who were there for a good time and not a long one. A small sliver of you hung on the hope that it didn’t have to mean anything. That not all rock stars were up for that dirty and fast life.
“I baked him my specialty,” you pointed out, that alone was enough to tell him how you felt without vocalizing it.
“And I’m sure the brownies were delicious, bubs, but he doesn’t know they are reserved for special people, now does he?”
You shook your head and the frown that followed really didn’t suit your dolled up face. There was no time to sulk as Yunho would be arriving in roughly half an hour, but the thought of your intimate gesture flying over his head as friendliness set a bitter taste on your tongue. The thing you could think of to be more obvious was to decorate the dessert with swirls of chocolate reading out ‘I like you’ and while it would be a cute way to confess, you weren’t that confident.
“Enough sulking,” Yuqi suddenly declared and pulled you up by your wrists. “What are we wearing, huh? Are we going for something bold, something that will give poor Yunho a hard time keeping his thoughts in check or are we leaning for a more cutesy approach?”
By the way your lips curved up in a smirk, Yuqi knew exactly what you were going for.
The nerves danced across Yunho’s skin as he aligned the bike with the curb outside your apartment. He stole a quick glance up at your window and sighed. This would be the closest thing to a date and he wanted to impress you, so in good ol’ Yunho fashion he planned ahead. First he’d treat you to a tasty meal at one of the best restaurants in the city, dessert was a given so that would be the next stop and if the night didn’t turn too cold maybe he’d decide on a quick stroll across the Dongho Bridge, but not until he knew what the weather would be like, it was still late February. Otherwise a quick ride through town wasn’t a bad idea either but it left no space for the little things like hand holding, unless he wanted to jeopardize your safety.
Yunho sent you a short message, notifying his arrival and leaned against his motorcycle. There was a slight breeze in the air and the weather wasn’t too hot indicating the approaching end of winter, and Yunho wondered whether to scratch the promenade from his plans. Too caught up in his own mind he missed the apartment door swinging open as you sashayed out, head held high and purse in hand.
The click-clack of your boots snapped Yunho out of his daze and eyes nearly bulging out of their sockets at your appearance. The cutesy pastel colored clothes, bows and lace were replaced with something out of your usual wardrobe; a short black dress that clung to your body like a second skin. The hem made it to mid thigh and Yunho just knew it’d ride up even shorter when you’d sit down. The dress was backless and left your shoulders exposed while the front accentuated your chest. You looked hot and you’d be even hotter with his leather jacket on. Your designated heart necklace was still in place and you paired it off with small golden hoops. A pair of leather boots reached up to your knees, revealing a snippet of glowy skin (thanks to your body lotion).
“You look good,” you said and smiled, lips painted a deep red and Yunho imagined the trail of kisses it would leave on his neck.
Clearing his throat, he cast a look at his own attire and chuckled. He too was wearing something out of his usual closet. Instead of ripped jeans and a fishnet shirt, he borrowed one of Mingi’s old high school suits that still miraculously fit. He looked sharp and important, something Yunho wasn’t all that used to, but it balanced it out with his scarlet helmet and motorcycle.
“Well, I couldn’t let you take all of the spotlight, now could I?” 
Dressed as a couple even the universe rooted for you to snap the translucents restraints of fear.
“Before I forget.” He snatched the single rose tucked neatly between the windshield and handlebars of the bike. “You are absolutely beautiful.”
Day met night as you reached for the flower, fingers brushing against Yunho’s. You smelled the red petals like the main girls do in movies but with a real smile that their fabricated ones would never reach. When Lord Byron claimed chivalry was dead he didn’t take count for men like Jeong Yunho. Men who bought their dates their favorite flowers after mentioning it one time in passing, men who gave up their jackets when a light breeze swiveled through town or men who never let their eyes wander from one diamond to another. While the acts were nothing of a grand gesture they still sent squeezes of affection straight to your heart. Taking it as a sign of the stars aligning and sending a normal guy your way for the first time in what seemed to be forever, you allowed yourself to relax and follow the stream.
“Right when I thought you slipped up.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it, sweetheart.”
Like always Yunho helped you with the helmet and to get on the bike, and heat pooled beneath the skin of your cheeks as you huddled closer to him. Your legs were glued together and slung over one side of the motorcycle, and Yunho promised he’d drive slow so you wouldn’t fall off – as if that was ever going to happen – with the order that you hold on tight. The thrownless flower was in your hold as you reached around him. He patted your hand twice, the mute signal that he was starting the engine. Throughout the whole fifteen minute drive, Yunho refused to disclose the name of the restaurant, arguing it would ruin the suspense and feigned hurt when you said he hadn’t even planned anything. You couldn’t have been more wrong.
With your arm looped through Yunho’s, you approached a tall building that reminded you of a hotel and just the exterior had you gasping, fingers pressed to your lips. The outside was sculpted with details from ancient Greek architecture. Marble columns pushed out from the black walls as pediments marked the beginning of the second floor. The rest of the building changed hues from black marble to beautiful cream colored bricks full of golden rimmed windows and black balcony railings with swirls and fleur-de-lis. You walked the little path leading up to the double doors and suddenly the pavement underneath turned soft and drowned out the click-clack of your heels. The carpet underneath was a rich red and you were curious how they kept it nice and clean from rain and other mud. By the entrance stood an elderly man dressed in a neat costume, his white gloved hand already pushing down the golden doorknob at the sight of guests and greeted you with kind eyes. 
Your whisper of Yunho’s name tugged at the corners of his lips and he wanted to tell you that there was more, keeping his excitement at bay he reached and patted the hand clutching his elbow. Allowing Yunho to guide you, he stopped at what seemed to be a reception where a young lady with a bright smile and red lips waited.
“Welcome to the Red Ruby.”
Completely lost in the details of the place, you didn’t bother tuning in on the brief exchange. The inside was even prettier, you came to realize. It was a small space not much bigger than your living room but probably held more worth than your whole apartment. A big chandelier hung in the center of the room that reflected against the black and white tiled floor. The left side sported a big entryway that led to a big dining area. Its primary colors ranged from red hues to matte gold. Further inside you made out a few tables draped over with long tablecloths and exquisite centerpieces bigger than your head. The chairs were big and soft to the eyes, made out of the finest velvet material you ever borne witness to.
“Thank you. We have a reservation under the name Jung Wooyoung.”
If you weren’t so mesmerized by the place, you’d give him a weird look and ask about this so-called Jung Wooyoung.
The lady scrolled through her tablet and smiled as she came to a halt. “Of course. The elevator will take you to the upper floor and my colleague will further assist you. Have a wonderful evening.”
“Thank you,” Yunho replied once again and gave you a soft tug, finally catching your attention. 
“Are we not sitting there?” You nodded towards the majority of people who were happily dining and conversing in the red room.
“Not quite. Only specific people are allowed in the Red Ruby, besides those seats don’t require a reservation and it’s a lot more open than where we’re sitting.”
Specific people meaning celebrities, actors, important people. Not locals like yourself. The ding of the elevator cut the conversation short as the doors parted and for the second time in ten minutes, you gasped. Flashing lights of the outside world stared back at you through the windows stretching from the floor to the high ceilings. Blue and purple hues of the night sky blended with the fading orange color. As the sun was slowly setting, the moon made its appearance with smaller stars dashed across the dark blue canvas, shining brighter than any streetlight and airplane. The view resembled a watercolor painting and its beauty couldn’t even be captured with the most developed camera.
As promised, another worker – a man not older than yourself – waited by the doors wearing a maroon red suit that was adjusted to his precise measures, a towel thrown over his forearm and hair slicked back with gel.
“Reservation for Mr. Jung?” He asked and Yunho nodded. “Right this way. My name is Sieun and I’ll be taking care of you tonight.”
The second floor – what you soon came to realize was actually the twentieth – was a stark contrast from the dining area downstairs. The whole outerwall consisted of just windows with an overview of the heart of South Korea and the interior took on more of a modern design with black and white colored seats, marble tables and crystal chandeliers that did little to lighten the room. The floor was pipsqueak clean and you could even see your own reflection in the black tiles. Instead of flower bushes, literal trees popped out every now and then and you couldn’t figure out if they were real or manufactured. Mouth open and eyes wide you were at a loss for words as the waiter led you to a table further away from the other guests. Two menus bigger than your head laid neatly on the surface and the waiter left with a promise of someone coming back to take your orders. 
“This is beautiful,” you exhaled, eyes glued to the lively city below. 
“Right?” Yunho smiled, chest exploding with warmth and pride. 
While you were occupied with watching the ant-like people and shimmering stars, Yunho stared at you as if the view outside wasn’t anything special. And it wasn’t, not with you sitting there looking breathtakingly beautiful. 
“Personally, I prefer their food over any other restaurant. Their yakisoba is the closest thing I’ve tasted to what they have in Japan.”
“I have no doubt, their water probably tastes like heaven, too. I mean did you see that crystal fountain, in the middle of the room?”
Yunho chuckled at your words and it tore your eyes from the windows. “I can assure you their water is just normal tap water.”
As you opened your mouth, Sieun came back and the ten minutes of thinking were up.
“Are you ready to place your orders?”
“Yes, please.” Yunho closed his menu despite not taking a look inside. “We’ll take a full course dinner with your evening's specials, that way we can try a little bit of everything.”
“Of course, sir and in the meantime would you like anything to drink? If I may propose one of our finest wines, perhaps?”
Eyes on you, Yunho quirked a brow letting you decide. Picking up on the memo, you cleared your throat and agreed to the proposition. Sieun nodded and bowed politely before venturing back to the culinary side of the restaurant. 
“This will cost you a fortune,” you sighed and fiddled with your fingers. “And I don’t know what you thought but by the looks of the interior, the food’s probably a month’s worth of salary, my salary.”
Yunho laughed at that. As if he’d ever let you near the bill, let alone split it.
“Don’t think about that, let's just enjoy it and I’ll deal with the rest.”
“Yunho,” you began, leaning forward and mustering up your biggest puppy eyes that he was quick to shut down.
“I know you’re worrying, but seriously don’t. It’s a favor I’ve asked of my friend so it won’t make a dent in my wallet. Besides I wanted to do this for you, okay. Something nice.”
“But why?”
The overwhelming feeling to reach over the table and place his palm over yours was stronger than anything pull he felt before, but he kept it glued to its current position and flashed a smile that made his cheeks pop and eyes crinkle.
“Because it’s what you deserve.” 
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Preparations for upcoming gigs and events were truly draining him. Practices started early in the morning, hours before the sun peeked over the horizon, and ended after the moon was high up in the sky. It left barely any time for the Blue Bird members to indulge in their own interests. Yunho wanted to spend as much time with you as but it was quite difficult as your schedules didn’t align, mainly because of his impractical working hours. Instead of going out for lunch or dining in grandiose places you couldn’t afford without giving up a kidney on the blackmarket, you opted for quick coffee breaks and late night drives to vacant places; the beach, some random hill with a great view of the city, a kids’ playground.
The clock was well past midnight and your eyes were surprisingly wide open, brain awake and ready to run laps around your apartment. How you’d survive the morning shift was beyond you, but with the faith that it wasn’t anything an extra spoon of sugar couldn’t fix, aimlessly continued counting each bump on your popcorn ceiling, willing the time to move faster for something – someone – to happen. Days off were spent alone in your apartment reading books to rid of your boredom but every once in a while you found yourself yearning for even the tiniest interactions with a certain puppy eyed man who also happened to be a future rock-star carrying a calendar with all three-hundred and sixty-five boxes marked. Maybe that’s why you didn’t hesitate at his sudden offer of going for a late night walk to buy slushies; his treat as the message read.
“I’m surprised you were still awake.” Was the first thing Yunho said as you ventured out of the apartment complex. 
You pushed the black beanie further down on your head and by the creases around your eyes Yunho knew you were smiling hard beneath your white scarf. A breeze blew through the neighborhood and that white hoodie of yours looked to do little against the chilly night. Yunho pondered if he should wrap you up in his leather jacket or clasp your hand in his – if daring enough, maybe even braid your fingers together – and hide them in the pocket of the black material. 
“What? I don’t always sleep early…” 
The sprinkle of sulk to your words squeezed his heart affectionately and he imagined a little pout to your look, head free from his previously temping thoughts.
“No, but you never stay awake to see the clock change from PM to AM.”
“Hey!” 
Yunho moved away as your arm swung in his direction. Chuckles bubbling out of him as he jogged ahead of your punches, they barely did any damage anyway but it was endearing to see you run after him.
“I’m kidding, kinda.” 
“Where are we going anyway…Won’t your friends worry?”
“Not really, I mean even if they did it’s not like we’re doing anything illegal. We’re just getting some slushies.”
Your face scrunched together like you bit into something sour and lips set in a thin line. While you enjoyed Yunho’s company more than you wanted to admit for your own mental health, you also despised it. There was something so gut wrenching about not being able to hold his hand as you walked down the streets of Seoul or adjust his unruly strands of hair after a stronger gust of air messed it up. The worst thing about it all was that his future image was the last thing holding you back, it was the fact you weren’t anything but friends.
“So, what have you been up to today? How was work?”
“It was alright, a bit annoying with the pollen season having everyone act up and sneeze every five minutes but it’s nothing I’m not used to and the kids are cute so it evens it out. What about you, I thought practice wouldn’t be running later than eight?”
It wasn’t supposed to but in the last quarter someone suggested a change in the performance with an added solo, and the three hours of practice were done in vain as they had to re-learn the most important part. Yunho loved his members, his brothers, but they sure could get on his nerves at the most unexpected time. Safe to say the sudden change in Yunho’s demeanor had everyone on edge – despite him not trying to show it – and they were diligent in their learning. It still didn’t stop Hongjoong from having a talk, or a check-in as the leader liked to call it, with Yunho. After some brief but believable words of assurement he was off the hook like nothing. Yunho was lucky he roomed with Yeosang, their manager, and not with Hongjoong. The lead guitarist would never leave the apartment without the elder breathing down his neck. Yeosang was more laid back like that, keeping to himself but still indulging in Yunho’s interests every once in a while and simultaneously taking care of him in his manager role.
“Yeah, no, we had to change up the performance so we were running later than expected…It’s crazy that after all these years it still surprises me that practice doesn’t end on time.”
“I think that’s just wishful thinking, everyone has it Yuyu.”
“What’s your wishful thinking then, sunshine?”
“Well wouldn’t you like to know?”
A laugh skipped through the chilly march night. The smug words he once threw at you long before you knew who he was coming to bite him in the rear; cutie-pie style. Eventually the all too familiar corner store – in which you spent way too many mornings contemplating between choco-chips and strawberry pocky – came to view and the conversation dissolved. The young boy behind the counter paid you no mind, sleep evidently tugging at his eyelids as he barely kept upright in his chair. Working in tandem you separated like the branches of a tree, one pouring up the slushies and the other filling a basket with snacks. 
Despite how much Yunho disliked seeing you reach for your wallet, he couldn’t do anything about it – as you argued it to be unfair if he paid for it all – and settled with a mental note lingering in the back of his mind to pay you back. Plastic bag in hand and card tucked back in your wallet, you slowly walked towards the exit.
“I’ll take a pack of red Marlboros, too.” 
Out of all the facts about Yunho this was the most surprising one, followed right by him being in a rockband and never having watched Twilight. You stepped out in the open with Yunho close behind, the outline of the pack in his pocket and a slushie in each hand, one brown – seemingly coca cola flavored – and the other a pretty mix of blue and red.
“Thank you,” you murmured as he took the bag from you in exchange for the drink. 
“Come on, let’s go somewhere away from the street.” 
Yunho’s hand hovered over your lower back as you turned into a random street with different local restaurants and stores, all closed at this late hour much to your pleasure. The further you went, the fewer shops there were and more houses instead. The neighborhood was on an uphill path leading to the top of the mountain and soon a set of stairs popped out of the sleek pavement making it easier to venture by foot. To break the silence settled over you, Yunho first slurped on his slushie.
“Everything alright?”
The question worked as a needle breaking the layer of a balloon, bringing you out of the bubble you were stuck in. 
“Hmmm, yeah I was just lost in my thoughts.”
“Are you tired? We can walk back home if you want.”
“No, no! I’m good, I promise.”
Yunho bobbed his head up and down, bag gently swinging from between his fingers and then put down on the ground beside his plastic cup.
“Okay, then at least take this.” Immediately you opened your mouth to say no, but Yunho wasn’t finished. “And I’m not taking a no for an answer.”
Your body was covered in a layer of warmth – the warmth of his jacket – and you gave him a small smile, a thank you for not letting you freeze to death even though that was impossible. 
“Don’t get sick on me now, Yuyu. If you feel just the smallest tingle of a cold you tell me right away, okay.” 
He pouted, “Why not? Won’t you come and take care of me then, hmmm? Some chicken soup to heal my tummy.”
The motion of his hand rubbing against his stomach had you giggling. The cheerful expression that made him fall pathetically in love with you was back and that was better than any jacket or hotpacket to keep him warm. 
You trudged up the last flight of stairs and in front was a bus stop big enough for two, maybe three people if you could squeeze in on the tiny bench. The road wasn’t connected to the path and continued in two directions, one going further up the hill and the other leading down and around the neighborhood to what you assumed was the city. The bus stop was placed right on the curve of the road with a great view of Seoul. It wasn’t anything like looking out the windows of the Red Ruby, this was less hectic. Mountains nearly blended with the dark sky and the distant lights of cars and billboards twinkled light stars, you were sure if you walked a little bit more out of the city the real stars would prevail. It was much quieter here too, no chatter of people or overproduced vehicles making whirring noises. 
You leaned your hand against the road barrier and smiled as the wind kissed your cheeks. Following your lead, Yunho did the same but with both hands and knees slightly bent as he put his whole weight against the metal fence. Turning your head to the left, you were once again taken back by his beauty. Features perfectly illuminated by the moonlight and jaw sharp as ever you couldn’t help but step back, snatch your phone up and tap open the camera icon. 
“What are you doing?” Yunho asked, amused as he caught sight of your abrupt movements.
“Don’t move! Look out again, it’s great Instagram material and although I’m no professional photographer I think they’ll still turn out amazing. Just fix your hair a bit.”
Heat spreading to his cheeks, Yunho bashfully smiled and did as told. Looking through the rectangular phone screen you moved around a little, stepping closer and inching a bit to the left before completely freezing up in place. The perfect shot was in view and with a few instructions aimed at the unofficial model, you snapped a handful of photos. In some where Yunho looked mysteriously out, others where his gaze was locked in on the circular camera alternating between a relaxed expression and cheek-popping smiles.
“Look.” 
You pushed the device in his hands and waited patiently for his reaction. 
“Maybe I should buy you a camera,” he said more so to himself but it still drew a sharp gasp out of you.
“Don’t you dare!”
And all you got back was a teasing wink, telling you your words entered in one ear and out the other.
“Send these to me, would ya? It’s been a while since I posted something on Instagram.”
While you got busy airdropping him the pictures, Yunho frantically patted the front and back of his jeans, searching for something that was in the pocket of his coat.
Clearing his throat and gauging your reaction, he said, “Can you pass me the cigarettes?”
In all honesty, you forgot the packet was even in your possession. Digging around in the pockets – first the left and then the right – you passed him the packet along with a red lighter in silence mainly because there was nothing to be said.
“Does it…Will it– I mean…Ah.”
“You can go ahead and light one, it doesn’t disturb me if that’s what you’re asking.”
“Oh-okay. Wait, let me just.” In three quick strides he stepped around you. “Now the smoke won’t get in your face and clothes.”
You weren’t new to the smell or taste of tobacco. Having friends who smoked and even took a few puffs when offered, you quickly realized it wasn’t something to your liking. The taste was worse than any cup of black coffee and you’d opt for the caffeine filled drinks rather than those sticks. Despite that you couldn’t stop staring, almost as if mesmerized, as Yunho opened the sealed packet, tore out a cigarette with his teeth and lit it with a flick of the lighter. You definitely couldn’t stop staring when a whistle of smoke blew out from between his lips making him somehow more attractive than he already was.
“I didn’t know you smoked.”
“I don’t do it often, just when I’m stressed.” 
He tapped the cigarette ash into his empty slushie cup and took another drag of the intoxicating stick. You watched it mix with the few droplets of blue water and replayed his answer. 
“Are you stressed right now?”
Always the gentleman, Yunho blew out a cloudy stream of smoke in the opposite direction before looking at you. 
“With you here? Not a chance.”
You could never find anything to hate about Yunho. He was funny, kind hearted, thoughtful, smart, handsome, everything, and yet you really disliked the way your heart fluttered at his cheesy lines that would fit right in a K-drama. Your face burned like the end of his cigarette and you forced yourself not to look away, cheeks hurting from your wide smile. With one last drag of his cigarette he extinguished it and let it fall in his cup. Eyes finding yours again he smiled goofily, tracing all crevices of your face, finding you as beautiful as the first time he saw you. 
“I really, really want to kiss you right now.”
Your breath hitched in your throat, the blood practically boiling beneath your skin and fingers tightly clutching the long sleeves of his coat. Of all the days you spent with him, from the extravagant dates to domestic hangouts at your place, not once did you think your first shared kiss would be under the stars while dressed with minimum effort. Nonetheless you really wanted to kiss him too.
“What’s stopping you?”
The last string keeping Yunho from doing what he’s been dreaming of snapped and he quickly dropped everything in his hands to cup your face. Thumb gently caressed your cheek like he was molding clay into a beautiful piece of art, his palm rested against your jaw, fingers long enough to graze the back of your neck as the other hand fell to your waist, the touch burning through the thick layer of his coat. High on his touch, your own hands clasped around his wrist and neck in a poor attempt to ground yourself. The faint stench of tobacco reached your nose but it was quickly drowned out by his pleasant scent of rain-soaked earth and camp fire.
Gaze flickering between your eyes and lips, Yunho slowly inched closer, noses millimeters away from brushing. A light smirk crossed his features as you rose impatiently on your toes, quietly yet so loudly telling him to do it already. Right before you took matters into your own hands and nearly yanked him by the collar of his shirt, Yunho tilted his head and brushed his lips softly against yours, and they fit perfectly. The little squeeze he gave your waist sent shivers down your spine and cliche as it sounded, fireworks and confetti poppers exploded in your stomach. Eventually relaxing in each other’s embrace you worked your lips against his, parting them and allowing his tongue entry as you simultaneously stroked his wrist in a slow motion. Your fingers tangled in the hair at the back of his neck. The kiss was great with no tongue being shoved down the back of your throat or mouth vacuuming your whole face. All your senses were overtaken with Yunho, Yunho and Yunho.
It was sweet, gentle and soft – everything you hoped for – and then it was not. The aftertaste of his cigarette and coca cola slush rolled off his tongue and left quite a bitter tang on yours. It wasn’t strong, but it wasn’t pleasant either and you willed yourself not to pull away too soon yet that’s exactly what you did. Yunho, still lost in the daze of the kiss, chased after your mouth wanting to claim your lips again. Panicking, because on one hand you wanted to feel him on you again – the perfect curve of his lips massaging yours and noses brushing against each other – but on the other hand you also didn’t want to taste ash and smoke, and would rather kiss Yunho and not the remainder of his cigarette. 
The soft call of his name brought him back to earth, ears painted that perfect shade of crimson clover and you probably weren’t looking any less flustered. Going from this confident guitarist with the world beneath his feet to an awkward man who still hugged his pillows to sleep, Yunho visibly deflated like a balloon.
“Did I do something wrong? Did–uh, did I make you uncomfortable?” 
The whisper hit you square in the heart and you shook your head. There was no bone in your body that didn’t think kissing Yunho was perfect, in fact it was everything and more and you’d want to do it again but maybe with the taste of something sweeter like chocolate covered strawberries.
“No. Yunho, no, I promise. It was great, I liked it a lot actually–”
“But…? I’m sensing there’s a but coming.”
“But the taste– the cigarette taste isn’t that nice.”
Yunho licked his lips and surely there was an ashy sprinkle besides the faint flavor of strawberry that was you. He had never wanted to smash his head against concrete as much as then or go cliff diving without a parachute. 
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Winter surrendered to spring and days turned longer, and so did the time you spent with Yunho. The kiss you shared with the moon as your only witness was one of many, much to your delight, and ever since then it was as if you became inseparable. Late night drives turned into weekly hangouts at each other’s places (mostly at yours), hand holding was exchanged for cuddles on the couch – bodies pressed together and legs intertwined – the empty side of your wardrobe was suddenly full of large hoodies with prints of different bands and sweatpants, and your digital phonebook showed hundreds of calls to a ‘yuyu 🐶💘’ lasting up to hours. Nights together were always an adventure as Yunho watched you fall apart on his tongue and fingers, and then put you back together with those same limbs.
“Have you ever considered getting a tattoo or more piercings?” You asked one night as you laid bare in his bed, skin against skin and his blue blanket the only thing shielding you from the outside world. 
It wasn’t the first time you imagined his body covered in ink or new shiny rings glistening in the moonlight and from his sole lip piercing, you knew you’d need a few days off work to recover if he were to get some more. Heat flooded your cheeks at the idea of Yunho sporting a full sleeve and the previously subdued ache between your legs slowly grew again. Most of Blue Bird had done some body art and were eager to do more. You knew Mingi’s body was prickled all over, from his face down to the tips of his fingers, and the man was always eager to do something more. Hongjoong and Seonghwa had a few tattoos here and there although Hongjoong’s was the crown holder of having the most piercings. Yunho was the one with least the altercations and if it weren’t for a dare back in his last year of high school, he probably wouldn’t have added anything. 
“Yeah, whenever I accompany Mingi to a tattoo parlor and lemme tell you, that bastard really does a good job at persuading people.”
“But?”
“But I know I’ll change my mind in the future or probably regret getting it done and then I think of how it will look when I’m eighty and all wrinkly. Like imagine an eighty year old Mingi with a face tattoo…and I get that not everyone thinks that far or simply doesn’t care but I don’t know…It’s just weird to me. I like my skin bare.”
“I like your skin like this too,” you replied and kissed the spot beneath his collarbone. “I’ve always wanted a tattoo since I can remember.”
Not in a million years did Yunho expect to hear that. Caught so off guard, he leaned back on his forearms to get a better view of you.
“Really?”
“Yep. My parents blame it on my uncle. He was like eighteen, I think, when he got his first tattoo – without grandma’s approval of course – and I was the only one who knew. I could barely speak back then so I guess he didn’t think it would matter if I saw it or not. Well, no one could explain the sharpie-drawn cat on my forearms that they definitely weren’t allowed to wash away or I’d throw a tantrum. Long story short, I accidentally rated him out to my grandma when he was sleeping, pulled up the sleeves of his shirt and everything so yeah.”
You chuckled at the fond memory and Yunho fought the urge to kiss you until he was on the brink of passing out.
“What would you get done then?”
“I don’t know, I’m really indecisive but I’m thinking of a back tattoo, you know those that go along your spine?” 
For being someone opposed to getting tattoos, Yunho nearly took note from Mingi’s 101 guide of persuasion and got down on his knees. A back tattoo – any tattoo really – on you would have him barking like a dog and living up to the name of being a golden retriever and he felt no shame about it.
“Th–at would look good on you,” he coughed.
“Yeah, I’m sure you’d like that perv.”
Yunho poked you in the side and you immediately curled up on yourself which only made matters worse as you moved closer to him. 
“Stop! I’m sorry,” you said between giggles and he immediately ceased his advances.
“That’s what I thought, now up. Gotta give you a bath.”
The gentleman he was, took care of you in many ways besides worshiping between your legs. Always attentive and vocal about your needs, he made sure you were comfortable even while you floated between consciousness and dreamland.
“Nooo! I’m tired.”
The grip around him tightened but with legs like jello and your brain only recently coming back from the post orgasm haze, Yunho could have you in the bathtub in seconds. You nuzzled against his chest and blinked slowly while asserting your thoughts. As dizzying as your vanilla perfume was to him, Yunho’s scent of burning wood was completely intoxicating and it nearly lulled you to sleep if it weren’t for his fingers caressing the back of your neck. How he got you to pee was a mystery of its own.
“Okay, a few more minutes but I’m getting you in that shower either way.”
“Thank you, Yuyu!”
He earned a kiss to the apple of his cheek and triumph fluttered through your veins at his red tinted ears. It was funny how he was more flustered over an innocent peck than staring straight at your wet core. Yunho felt the smugness radiate off you in waves and quickly redirected the attention elsewhere.
“Have you always wanted to be a preschool teacher?” 
“No,” you started and softly ghosted your fingers on the spot beneath his peck, a trail of goosebumps trailed after your touch. “It’s silly, but I wanted to be a cat shop cashier.”
“A cat shop cashier?”
Yunho craned his neck and if you weren’t so tired you’d laugh at his frozen expression. Instead you mustered up a hum and drew an invisible cat on his body, much like the one from your childhood days.
“I warned you it sounded silly.”
“I’m not judging you, I’m just…what is that?”
“A girl who sells things with cats on them,” you said like it was as clear as the sky being blue and the grass green.
“Why didn’t you?”
“I didn’t have the money for it. A shop doesn’t just fall from the sky, you know? Plus my parents weren’t, I wouldn't say they were against it but they were worried I’d end up on the streets or something so I did the next best thing and studied hard, enrolled in college and now I’m waving bye to kids wearing backpacks with dogs on them.”
Wordlessly, he wrapped his arms around you and squished you closer against him, and leaned down to press a chaste kiss to the crown of your head. Hearing about your cat-shop-dream not even having the chance of leaving the four walls of your childhood bedroom really struck a chord in him. If it was someone who understood how it felt to not have anyone in their corner, it would be Yunho. With a five dollar bill, a guitar case and a poor impression of Spongebob he took the first train to Seoul to pursue his dreams and while he wasn’t exactly famous, he wasn’t whatever his parents thought he’d be. 
“But it all played out in the end,” you finally said and closed your eyes.
“How come?”
“Because I found something better.”
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One of the many Spiderman movies played on the TV in your living room. It was Yunho’s idea to have a movie marathon over the weekend and you were currently watching the second movie starring Tobey Magiure. Snacks and soft drinks littered the table, but you weren’t craving them as much as Yunho’s touch. Laying in his embrace, back against his clothed chest and one arm thrown over your waist, you wondered if the movies were an excuse to get cozy with you. 
Throwing a quick glance at the digital clock in the corner of the tv screen you realized it was nearing midnight and you could feel the sleep sneaking up on you. It was gradually becoming harder to keep your eyes open and just when you were about to succumb to dreamland an electric like jolt shocked you awake. The hem of your shirt had risen through the night and Yunho’s fingers found comfort on the exposed skin of your tummy. His hand flew from you as if being burned by a hot stove.
“I’m sorry, was that too much?”
You shook your head and smiled at the instinctual worry. There was something so attractive about his attentive side. You were one month into…whatever this labeless thing you were having and not once did he make you feel uncomfortable. He always checked in on you, made sure you were on the same level and asked for permission about the smallest of things but it was appreciated, nonetheless. 
“No, it was just unexpected…but not unwanted.” 
You steered his hand back over your stomach and fought the shiver wanting to glide down your back. Despite their humongous size, his fingertips were soft and gentle, and the warmth of his touch sent goosebumps trailing along your skin. Face burning and heart doing somersaults, you nuzzled against his bicep taking on the task of a pillow under your head. Pushing yourself, you pressed a chaste kiss to the muscle and glued your attention back to the movie, refusing to meet his eyes. In that moment Yunho swore he could feel his heart jump in his throat and he didn’t even need to touch his ears to know they were burning red. 
You had gotten quite intimate with each other. Never being able to finish a movie without locking lips or being in the same room for more than five minutes without one hand straying to the other. Not to say Yunho wasn’t affected by your sudden displays of affection – because he was – yet those small innocent acts did far worse things to Yunho’s well being than anything else.
“Who’s your favorite Spiderman?” You asked to distract him from what the hell you just did.
The lack of answer didn’t go unnoticed and as you turned your head sideways, lips parted and ready to ask again, your breath hitched in your throat at his half lidded eyes drinking you up. They were blown out with lust and desire, a look you’d gotten familiar with.
“Yuyu–” 
“I want you so badly,” he said, voice low and soft that you simply couldn’t deny him. 
You also couldn’t fight the fact that you wanted him equally as much. Saying nothing you pressed your lips against his and he was quick to set the pace, starting gentle and then turning needy and sloppy with tongues rolling against each other. Consumed by the heat of the moment, Yunho grabbed your hips and perched you on his lap while he simultaneously sat up against the sofa. Like two puzzle pieces completing each other you slid your hands to the back of his neck and played with the hair on his nape. The movie was long forgotten and all the sound effects were drowned out by the muffled whines and moans filling the apartment.
“Yunho,” you panted and rolled your hips against his.
In return his hands roamed the sides of your body, squeezing at every curve and dip, and smirked at your beautiful noises. His every kiss and grope of flesh was driving you crazy and you were seconds away from begging for his fingers, mouth, cock. Whatever he wanted to do, you’d let him. 
Breaking apart for air, Yunho didn’t stop showering you with affection and peppered kisses from your jaw down to your neck that you oh-so generously exposed by tilting your head sideways. Sucking, nipping and licking, he gave you no rest and awakened a needy pulse between your legs. Your breathy moans grew louder and shot straight to his groin and he had to physically restrain himself from bucking up against you. Thighs so thin you could feel the hard tent in his sweats that also did barely anything to cover his length. Wanting something else to occupy your hands, you slid them down his shoulders and chest, and with burning cheeks you sneaked them under his shirt exploring the muscles over his stomach. You traced each and every outline with feather-like touches that sent his stomach contracting and a deep groan reaching your ears. Your ego rocketed at the bodily reaction and quickly faltered as licked over the spot right between your jaw and ear, earning himself another breathy moan, 
“Yunho, please.”
“Please, what?” 
You could feel his devilish smirk against your skin. To coax you into speaking, he did it again followed by the graze of his teeth. 
“Need yuh, please.”
“What, darling? What do you need?” 
You whined as he continued the assault on your neck, covering it in beautiful love bites, and all you did in return was grind against his cock trying to find some relief to your aching cunt.
“Want me here?” 
He flicked his thumb over your covered left boob and a sharp sensation shot from your cunt to your breast like lightning. The sudden change of atmosphere left you more courageous than usual. Grabbing the hem of your shirt you tore the material off yourself and left Yunho stunned. Despite not being completely nude, he’d be damned if he didn’t appreciate you like the art you were. 
“You’re beautiful,” he said and traced the edge of your bra cups. 
Not expecting the night to take a drastic turn, you didn’t think to wear anything nice but a set of black underwear. 
“May I?” 
He reached around your body to the clasp holding your bra together. High on love, you nodded with your bottom lip stuck between your teeth. His fingers grazed the skin on your back and left exploding tingles in his wake. With your consent he unclasped the top and cupped your breasts in his hands, giving them light squeezes that had you arching your back in response, pushing more into his touch.
“You’re perfect,” Yunho whispered and hovered his thumbs over the hardened nipples. “I wonder if they taste as sweet as they look.”
He breathed hot air over them making you squirm more in his lap and looking up, he was meet with your fucked out gaze – eyes barely open, lips swollen and shiny from his spit – and he was yet to even touch you properly. Easing you into it, he pressed a chaste kiss to your breastbone before latching around your left nub and sucking hard. Your hands flew up around his hair, pressing his head further into your chest. Yunho then released and blew gently on your puckered nipple. 
“Mo-h, more!” 
“I haven’t even touched you, baby, and you’re already whining? Are you sure you can handle it?”
“Yes! Yes, I can handle it, I’ll be so good, just pleas–”
Wasting no time, Yunho wrapped his lips around the other boob, giving it an equal amount of attention. His tongue drew circles around it, making it shiny just how he liked it and then sucked again. It was messy and nasty but felt so good. Your brain was already short circuiting and hips moved on their own, practically humping his hardened dick that stood proudly against the gray fabric. The thought of his cock – large and thick – had you soaking through your panties and you wondered how he’d make it fit. Would he use his long, nimble fingers or his tongue?
A lewd image of you laying in bed on your stomach with Yunho behind, dick aligned with your wet pussy, popped in your mind. Him groaning in your ear from how hard your pussy clenched around his cock and you moaning from the delicious stretch that came with every thrust, reaching deep into you. That alone could make you come right on the spo–
A sharp ring cut through your sinful thoughts, but Yunho kept sucking on your tits. In your dazed state he even shifted to the other one, saying something about taking care of his girls as he pinched the wet nub between his thumb and index fingers, squeezing and rolling it until you were left breathless.
“Yun-ah! Yunho! The phone,” you whined out.
“Ignore it,” he growled and kissed your neck again, hands coming down to squeeze your ass. 
The feel of his large hands on your backside quickened the pace of your moving hips. You almost obeyed his order as the phone stopped buzzing only for it to pick up again. Finding the light in your hazed mind you put the intimacy on pause. Hands pushing at his shoulders until he complied and leaned against the sofa. 
“It may be important. What if it’s one of the guys?” 
Your words were distant as his eyes were locked on your chest dripping and bruised from his work.
“Yunho!” 
“Wha– I’m listening!”
“Answer the phone, you weirdo.”
Standing up on wobbly legs you nearly toppled over and you would, hadn’t Yunho caught you by your hips. The ‘thanks’ died in your throat at the sight of his stiff cock. It wasn’t the first time he got hard from a make out session and it probably wouldn’t be the last either. You quickly put the shirt back on while he awkwardly grabbed his phone.
“Don’t cover up just yet, doll, I’m not done with you.” He answered the call with a, “This better be important.” 
And it was judging by the way his jaw unclenched and eyes widened.
“Finally! Where the hell have you been?!” You could make out the faint and distressed voice of Yeosang. “We’ve been trying to reach you for a while now, we need a group meeting.”
“Group meeting? For what?”
Panic rose in a sickening surge as you listened to the one sided conversation. 
“That’s the thing. I can’t say over phone so get your ass to Hongjoong’s.”
“Is everything alright?” You whispered from beside him.
“I’ll be there, just give me a few.”
The call ended and Yunho stuffed the phone in his back pocket.
“Yeah, or at least I think so? Yeosang called for a meeting but didn’t say why...”
A mischievous smirk tugged at your lips as you took his hand in yours.
“Well then, pretty boy. I say you get over there and hurry back to me.” 
The wiggle of your brows had you both bursting out in laughter and Yunho closed the distance between you once again.
Of all the things Yunho could expect the meeting to be about, he never imagined it to change the trajectory of his life. In less than twenty four hours Blue Bird would be signing a record deal with one of – if not the – biggest music companies in Seoul. Their teenage dreams of making music and performing in front of thousands would come true and Yunho couldn’t be happier. The one thing he was praying for, despite not feeding into his parents’ religion, came to life and in that moment he cursed himself for not sharing the same joy as his bandmates. Because all Yunho could think about was what that meant for you.
“We have to celebrate,” shouted Mingi and slung one arm over Yunho’s shoulders. 
Hongjoong, Seonghwa and Yeosang jumped in tow, all sporting wide grins and even tears shining in their eyes.
“I’ll call Wooyoungie and see if he wants to come,” replied Yeosang as he left for the kitchen.
“We should see if he’s up for designing us some clothes. It would give us more exposure for sure.” 
Seonghwa clapped his hands together and immediately imagined the crazy clothes he’d have on stage. He’s always wanted to try corsets and heels, and pretty skirts and with Wooyoung’s magic he’d definitely not be disappointed.
“I’m bringing out the champagne!”
Yunho watched Hongjoong run after Yeosang, his platinum hair shining in the dim light, and slumped back against the couch. It was weird. He’s been dreaming of this opportunity ever since he was introduced to KISS back in middle school (secretly of course, God forbid his parents heard what their eldest son was listening to) but he couldn’t shake away the bittersweet feeling festering in his stomach. A rough shove against his side snapped him out of his dazed thoughts. 
“You good?” 
Mingi, always the observant one, noticed the flicker of sadness in Yunho’s eyes. The taller of the two nodded despite feeling his dinner climbing its way back out.
“Yeah, it’s just…crazy.”
“Tell me about it, but hey we’re just getting started. A whole new life’s waiting on us. Girls, money, fame, everything we’ve dreamed of, Yunho.”
For once, Yunho’s dreams of a fast and luxurious life with expensive bikes, clothes and VIP parties lasting until the early hours of the morning changed into something quiet and humble; an apartment big enough for two and a dog lingering between his legs as he laid in bed with you in his arms. His dream of swimming in money burst as a new cloud came to mind. A dream of a girl who brought out the best in him with her kind words and soft touches of affection. His own thoughts were taunting him just like his relatives did back in Gwangju – about the dream he’d never achieve – and unlike then he was starting to believe it. 
That night Yunho didn’t allow himself to sleep. His mind tortured him with flashbacks of all the times the universe sent him signs that you were two stars on completely different sides of the galaxy. Yunho couldn’t light a cigarette without seeing your scrunched up face or drink a cup of coffee and not imagine your downturned lips and tongue sticking out in disgust. At the same time, he avoided anything and everything sweet as it worked as a reminder of the very person he deprived himself of.
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After tossing and turning for the most part of the night, you woke up to the sound of heavy rain splattering against the windows of your bedroom. You couldn’t shake away the inkling feeling that it wouldn’t be the best day of your week, and considering last night’s scare you insisted your worry wasn’t unjustified. The time on your phone showed you still had a few hours before your alarm would go off for work. You wondered what Yunho was doing and what the meeting was about. There were no messages or calls from him, which wasn’t that unusual, but you were used to good morning texts and an array of different emojis. 
Willing yourself not to think much of it, you made yourself a cup of coffee and clocked into work earlier than scheduled. You couldn’t stop thinking about Yunho and decided to send him a quick message despite the moral part of your inner-self telling you not to. The following embarrassment was locked in your work cabinet with all your belongings and worrisome thoughts. For the next eight hours you busied yourself with work; playing with the kids, serving them food, changing diapers, putting them to sleep. You moved on autopilot and didn’t, not once, think of a certain tall boy who could play the guitar blindfolded.
The clock struck five PM and you kept your dignity in mind as you refrained from bolting down the hallway. The last group of kids had just been picked up and you made a beeline for the locker room. 
You [06:05 AM] Good morning 🌷how’d the meeting go? Delivered
The message was left unread and the delivered status was exceptionally bright. You couldn’t shake away the thought that something wasn't right, but you didn’t want to overwhelm Yunho as you still didn’t know what the meeting was about. You’d be damned if it turned out to be something bad. The last thing he needed was a girl pestering him about it. Doing what you did best, you put on a smile and went back home, but not before stopping by a bakery for some strawberry pastries with the hopes of sweetening up your gloomy afternoon. 
The red bike you were very accustomed to stood parked outside your apartment building but its owner was nowhere in sight and your phone was still void of notifications. It could only mean one thing. You raced up the flight of stairs and lo and behold there he was; sitting on the stair outside your door with a lighter twirling between his thumb and index finger. He looked nothing like the Yunho you knew. His face was bare and lacked the usual dark makeup smudged on his skin, and he only wore a gray hoodie and sweatpants while his fingers were void of silver bands and whatnots. He still looked handsome as ever though.
“Yuyu!” 
You jumped in his arms and he grabbed onto the railing not to fall backwards. Your body slotted perfectly against his and your breath tickled his neck. Yunho had one arm around your waist and the other moved to cup the back of your neck. He inhaled your vanilla perfume and tried engraving in his mind.
“I thought I recognized your ride. What are you doing here?”
“Just needed to see you,” he replied as you moved to unlock the door. 
His hand itched to reach for yours. To have you tucked under his arm or back glued to his chest, elbows or knees touching, anything really. He just needed the feel of your touch.
“Ah, you had me worried! I mean I’m happy to see you, but you didn’t reply to my text this morning and seeing the bike I really thought something happened.”
A forced laugh made its way past his lips and he was quick to pat your head. 
“You always worry about me, don’t you?” 
His hand slid down to your jaw and thumb caressed your chin, grazing your bottom lip.
“I’m sorry. I forgot my phone at Hongjoong’s and he’s still at work so I couldn’t get it. Was it something important?”
“You’ll drive me into an early grave, Jeong Yunho.”
“Yah, don’t say that!” 
Yunho nearly ascended like a helium balloon at the sound of your laughter. The Heaven’s gate came to view as you blessed him with that bright smile of yours. Teasingly you got closer to him so your breaths mingled in the air.
“Who will be the death of who now?”  
The question was soft and came out in a hushed whisper, and if you weren’t a pinky away from him you’d completely miss it. Yunho gazed into your eyes and you had never felt so seen before. He looked at you as if you had the world in your palms and he was ready to risk it all. A bit flustered under his loving stare, you tried reflecting his attention elsewhere.
“How’d the meeting go?” 
The moment the words left your mouth Yunho visibly sagged and his lips pursed into a tight line. You tried finding an answer in his suddenly softened eyes but all you could see in them was sadness. Yunho cleared his throat and widened the distance between you as if it would lighten the blow of his news.
“So…Blue Bird is signing a record deal with Brother Choi Industries…”
“Oh my God! Yunho, that's great!” 
Yunho caught you in the air. Your arms and legs wrapped around him and your cheek squished against his. The happiness surged out of you like rays of the sun and instead of warming him up, it pierced his body to the core. You planted a quick kiss to his cheek that left a prickling feeling after and then you were down again, feet meeting the floor.
“Why didn’t you say anything sooner?! We have to celebrate! C’mon, we’ll do whatever, it’s on me.”
Fingers latched around his wrist and the purse with all your belongings thrown over your shoulder, you headed for the door again but Yunho didn’t budge. Like an oak rooted to the ground, he stood in place and it dawned on you that he didn’t match your excitement.
“Can’t we just, I don’t know, stay inside? Watch a movie or something…”
“Yeah– yeah, of course,” you whispered and led him to the living room. “Put on whatever and I’ll bring some snacks.”
You couldn’t help but worry. News like that usually called for drinks or a nice dinner with one's friends or family. The thoughts of what could have happened were endless and did nothing to soothe the growing ball of anxiety in your abdomen. Patient as always you didn’t push further on the matter and just gathered whatever snacks you had in your cupboards (oreos and a half-empty packet of chips). Your eyes traveled the length of Yunho’s body stretched out on the sofa and then shifted to the TV.
“Bluey?”
“I like the gentle-parenting,” Yunho whispered and you nearly turned into a puddle on the spot.
“It’s a good show. I give it five stars and the preschool teacher approval stamp.”
As you laid down everything on the table, Yunho raised one arm in the air, a silent request for you to make yourself at home in his hold. Head on his chest, you could hear the rhythmic beat of his heart and the warmth seeping through his thick clothes. His hands were intertwined on your lower back, occasionally rubbing his thumbs over the fabric which would have any cat purring in seconds. Your left arm was squished against the sofa while the other played with one of the strings on his hoodie. 
The series of colorful dogs wasn’t new to you as almost the entirety of the kids at the preschool had some kind of product with the cartoon characters splayed on, whether it be a backpack, water bottle or bandaids. It was either that or Paw Patrol, and personally speaking you preferred the Australian doggos. 
For a good hour or two Yunho just laid there with his eyes glued to the animated show but mind running laps. He didn’t reach for any of the goods on the table or excused himself for a pee-break he so desperately needed because he knew the moment he moved, you’d look at him with pleading eyes and ask what’s on his mind. And although he’d been camping outside your apartment for three hours, he still couldn't find the right words to tell you what’s been bugging him since Yeosang’s revelation. He wasn’t there to tell you about the stupid record deal or how he forgot his phone (it was in his back pocket). Yunho came to break things up, something he knew was inevitable since the first night he laid eyes on you.
“Yuyu,” you whispered and poked his cheek, trying to get his attention. 
The guitarist was there physically but where he had gone mentally was a mystery and you noticed it early on when he didn’t mention anything about Bandit playing the toy drum set.
“Hmm?” 
He blinked back to reality and turned to face you who had changed position to lay flat on him, chin perched on top of your hand and pouty lips.
“Your heartbeat’s really loud. Is everything okay?”
Nothing about this was okay. 
It wasn’t okay that your bodies fit like puzzle pieces. It wasn’t okay that you were great together despite your contrasting looks. It wasn’t okay that the girl of his dreams was the polar opposite of himself.
“I’m just thinking…a lot.”
“About the record label?”
Fuck the record label, is what Yunho wanted to say. It was the last thing on his mind, right below his parents and every other person who had their doubts about him. The real words lingered on the tip of his tongue, waiting to be spoken out in the open and he nearly swallowed them back down, but he couldn’t bring himself to lie, not when you looked at him with worry written all over your features.
“About…you. About us.”
“What about us?”
Your voice came out higher at the end and he knew the question you were thinking of was something completely different than what he was about to say, and it hurt so much.
“It's just not…I don’t think we’re that good of a match.”
He caught the moment your world came crashing down. How the light of worry turned into confusion.
“What?” 
“We shouldn’t keep doing this.”
By that point you both sat back up on your knees and hands on your thighs, while he moved so his legs were drawn up to his chest.
“I don’t understand. I thought you liked me...” 
“I do, but it’s not– I’m…sorry.”
This was all too much for you and you were torn between lashing out in anger or hearing him out. Your heart pounded against your chest and you could feel it crack from the pressure of his confession. As if that wasn’t enough a stinging sensation burned behind your eyes.
“Why didn’t you say anything from the start then? If you never wanted this to happen, why’d you kiss me in the first place or take me out on dates? We’ve been tiptoeing between friends and something more for the past six months and suddenly we can’t be either?!” 
The desperation dripping from your words was clear as a summer’s sky and while you tried to prove a point, Yunho wasn’t having any of it.
“It felt right in the moment, but the more time we spent together I realized that we’re too different, it just won’t work–"
You were quick to follow up. Tongue sharp and fire behind your words, they were nothing like the sweet scent of strawberries and roses he was used to. Yunho had never seen you so upset.
“This has nothing to do with our differences, Yunho! We are great together and we’ve proven it countless times. There’s something deeper than that, something you’re not telling me and I don’t know why. What have I done to ruin your trust in me?”
A beat of silence passed. The apartment was completely quiet and you wondered if the neighbors were listening in on the argument, and if they did then what a great first impression Yunho was leaving them with.
“I’m afraid I’ll ruin you,” he whispered, lips in a pout and eyes glistening like an ocean’s reflection of a night sky.
As if a pair of invisible hands, the words plunged into your chest and forcefully grabbed at your heart only to tear out the poor beating organ and throw it across the ground. To think Yunho saw himself as a problem – as a stain in your life – that he was depriving him (and you) of something beautiful, it fucking hurt.
“Don’t do that. That’s not fair, Yunho. You’d never ruin me, do you understand? This is the happiest I’ve been in a long time and I need you to know it.”
“It’s not going to work. You’re too good and I’m– you’re, I’m bad for you.”
“You don’t get to decide that for me! It’s not like I’ve never touched a cigar before in my life, or tried strong liquor or, I don’t know, had flings here and there! You’re talking as if you’re a drug lord or something. You’re just a– a– an upcoming rockstar! With an ambition that takes up a lot of your time and who occasionally smokes and drinks to de-stress. Don’t think I’m some saint you’re going to corrupt because I’m far from it, Yunho.”
Silence. 
While Yunho knew everything you said to be true, it didn’t fit the image he created of you and he could only fault himself for it. You noticed his eyes wandered around, jumping from furniture to furniture, all to avoid yours. So with shaky hands you gently – like he was a baby chick – cradled his chin and turned him towards you.
“I want you, so why won’t you let me have you?”
The crack in your voice confirmed his stupid theory of being bad for you. It was better this way, but goddammit did he want to wrap you up in his embrace and kiss the top of your head and whisper soothing things in your ear. To say ‘I’m not going nowhere’ and ‘I’m sorry’ a thousand times over until the damage would glue itself back together. He wanted to be the one giving you strength and not stack rocks upon rocks on your shoulders.
“It’s not just about that. I’m going to be a…rockstar soon. The fans, some of them are going to be nice, but not all will wish the best for us. If something were to come out about us, they’d leave you restless. I’ve seen it happen to others and I don’t want you to suffer that same path.”
And if you could see through his lies, you mentioned nothing of it.
“That’s not your decision to make and you know it! I like you and you obviously like me, nothing else matters besides that, please, listen to me. Yunho, I don’t care about anything else but you.”
He nuzzled against your palm and leaned closer until his forehead rested against yours. He wanted to remind you of your agreement, to call him Yuyu and only that, but it was a privilege he wasn’t granted anymore. You squeezed your eyes shut, not bearing to see his wet cheek, but even that didn’t stop your own tears. You felt the soft pad of his thumb wipe away the streams of salty water flowing down your skin and you didn’t know what was worse. That he was the reason behind them or that it was the first and last time he’d ever wipe tears from your face again.
“You’re gonna have a good life without me, you’re gonna grow and go places. You’re gonna get that cat lady shop and be the best cat shop cashier the world has ever seem, and you’ll meet someone way better than me–”
“But I want you!”
“You’re gonna forget about me and find someone deserving of you. Someone that can shower you with unconditional love.”
“Then be that someone. Get better, do better and stop trying to ruin this thing we have!”
“And I want you to stay just as you are. Okay? Gentle and loving and sweet. This world doesn’t deserve you and neither do I, but you deserve someone, yeah, sweet pea?”
Yunho’s voice cracked and you quickly dragged him into a bone crushing hug. He hid in the crook of your neck, arms going around you in a tight grip as if you’d disappear the second he let go. In the safety of your arms he let down his guard and the loud cries that followed prickled your skin just as much as yours clawed at his heart. You stayed in each other’s hold and drew soothing shapes on each other’s backs as you cried your hearts out.
Your arms were numb and your body refused to produce more tears to cry, but even then you didn’t budge. You knew if you let go Yunho would take it as his cue to leave and you couldn’t bear that just how you couldn’t stop whimpering as he pressed soft kisses to your temple or whispered apologies in your ear. 
“I have to go,” he eventually whispered and your heart – that you were still picking up the pieces of – broke all over again, sending shards of blood and tissue everywhere.
Your hold tightened and he truly felt evil as he broke out of your grip and got a good look at your swollen face.
“I’m so sorry, sweet pea.”
“Pluh-please, don’t do this.” 
“I’m sorry.”
“Kiss me, then,” you wailed. “If you can’t stay, just kiss me one last time.”
Never one to deny your wishes he slotted his lips against your and tasted the mix of your salty tears. Your fingers curled painfully in his cheeks and the hold he had on your waist was sure to leave bitter bruises in the morning. Yunho poured every ounce of affection, his heart and soul – his everything – into the kiss. It was something he’d never done before but he needed you to know that while you maybe hadn’t reached the stage of love just yet, his adoration of fondness was never fake. Whatever feeling he had for you that was the closest to love, it was never fake.
Teary eyes stared into each other as you parted, breaths heavy and lungs ready to burst through your chest. He gave you one last peck on the cheek and broke free from your grip, and like the broken record left in his childhood bedroom, he repeated the useless apologetic words until they lost all their meaning. Your muffled cries shot straight to his heart and he could feel it crack with each step taken further away from you
As Yunho passed the threshold of your apartment for the last time, he kept telling himself that it was for the best. Your undeserving love would just be ruined in the palms of his hands and he had to leave before it became something he was too afraid to let go off. He had to leave even if meant snapping free from the vines you barely managed to twine around his limbs. It would be sharp and quick and hurt like a paper cut but with no permanent scars.
The more he lingered around you, the deeper and tighter the roots went and more sweetpeas would grow and wrap around his body, and fill him with a love and warmth that was impossible to flee. And when the seasonal change began and all the birds fled somewhere warmer, he’d have no choice but to forcefully cut the vines curled around him and hurt you beyond repair. That wasn’t something Yunho could ever see himself do and before it turned into a cloying love, he’d save you both the hurt and pain, and just leave. You’d eventually grow your sweetpeas somewhere else.
Because in the end, you were all too sweet for him.
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Author's note pt.2: I've read a lot of different interpretations of the song and I wanted to share my (if you haven't kind of already grasped it). While reading the lyrics, I understood that person A doesn't believe they are worthy of person B because of their different life styles and nature. In short, they are complete opposites. While that can be good (opposites attract) person A doesn't see it that way. They know right from the start that they aren't destined to be (the reasons to this are endless) yet they still try to pursue a relationship with person B until something tells them "this isn't right". Now being polar opposites, Person B thinks that person A is the one for them despite their differences. As mentioned, I know there are a lot of different opinions of what the actual meaning of the song is and I can totally get behind those too, but this was my first interpretation and what kick-started this whole oneshot.
Disclaimer For this fic, I didn't want to make it into an experienced x inexperienced trope. Mainly because a lot of people associate innocence with dressing/acting cutesy which I believe isn't valid. People can still like pastel colors, cute trinkets, dress cute and still be experienced (with sex, smoking, drinking, tattoos, piercings, etc). I think it gives a little more depth to the story by not making the MC new to all that, but I'm not trying to spread shame on those who are inexperienced as there's absolutely nothing wrong with it!!!
Also it's my first time ever writing something close to smut and it was so hard! I can't stress it enough 😭 I'll have to practice it way more before even attempting the real deal lmao. While we're at it, it's also my first time writing for Yunho so I hope I brought him justice!
If you've made it this far I just wanna thank you for reading (everything) and I hope you've enjoyed ❤️
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© HONGJOONGSART 2024 - All rights reserved. Copying, editing, reposting or translating my work is not allowed.
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vodika-vibes · 3 days
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Hello lovely! Could I please request Ruby for Dogma x female reader where they both have huge crushes on each other, but are too shy to say anything; one day after Dogma comes back from a long tour and she just decides to go for it and she glomps him, kissing him on the lips over and over again while his brother's are just standing there, jealously gawking lol. I hope this inspires you and I hope that what you're coming down with doesn't last long!🌼
Take A Chance
Summary: You’ve been crushing on Dogma for, what feels like, years. But you’ve always been too nervous to actually put your feelings into words. But, after your closest friend tells you that she’s going to invite Dogma into her bed when he returns from his deployment, you decide to take a chance.
Pairing: Clone Trooper Dogma x Reader
Word Count: 852
Warnings: Some angst at the beginning, but there's a happy ending. Also, reader has a toxic friend
Tagging: @trixie2023 @n0vqni @imabeautifulbutterfly
A/N: So, I didn't follow your prompt to the letter, but I think I'm happy with this, so I hope you are too!
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Anxiety twists your stomach as you lean against the flowering tree on the base that the 501st call home when they’re not deployed. 
The Resolute docked about an hour ago. It’s only a matter of time before they actually come back to the base, and that’s the thing that is making you so anxious.
Not that they’re coming back, no. 
But the fact that you’re going to see Dogma.
Kind Dogma. Handsome Dogma.
Dogma, who you’ve been crushing on for months. Who you’ve been too shy to confess to, because he might not feel the same.
Dogma, who your best friend decided that she was going to try and bed, even though she knows about your crush on him. Her argument was that since you haven’t said anything yet, then he’s free game.
You warned her that if she did this, she would lose your friendship forever. And she just didn’t care.
So that definitely isn’t helping your anxiety. It’s not like you have so many friends that you can afford to lose any of them…even bad friends are better than no friends, right?
You lift your head when you hear the familiar sound of heavy boots on the paved road, and a small smile crosses your lips when you see the 501st trekking back to their barracks.
Knowing them, most of them are going to change and hit up the bars or go and find their partners.
They deserve it.
And then there’s Dogma, talking to Tup, joking about something based on the wry grin on Tup’s face, and your heart lurches. You love him. You want to be his and him to be yours and…
And…
And you can’t do it.
Your hands curl into fists and you drop your gaze away from the man that you love so much.
He deserves…more. So much more.
You jump when a pair of boots stop in front of you, “Credit for your thoughts?”
“They’re hardly worth that much.” You reply automatically, before you lift your gaze. Dogma is standing in front of you, concern written clearly on his face, “Ah…welcome back, Dogma.”
“Thanks.” His dark eyes scan your face, “What’s wrong, you look upset.” His brow furrowed, “Did someone threaten you?”
“No. Nothing like that. Just…coming to a realization about myself, is all.”
“Wanna share?”
“It’s not important.”
“It’s important enough that it upset you.”
You hesitate, “Well…” You fold your arms, “There’s a guy-” Dogma’s expression twitches slightly, but he just motions for you to continue, “And I just realized that I’m never going to be good enough for him.”
“If he thinks that then he’s a karking idiot.” Dogma replies, “You’re amazing.”
“No, he didn’t…” You hesitate, “That was me coming to that realization, not…” You sigh, “Like I said, not important.”
Dogma is quiet for a moment, “Well,” He finally says, “Since you have this…guy,” His tone is odd, but he continues before you can question it, “I guess you’re not interested in getting a drink or something with me?”
“...what?”
“Like, caf. Or maybe something else, since you don’t drink caf.” Dogma adds, and then he flashes a wry smile, “Sorry, I had a plan, but now that I’m standing here, I can’t quite remember it.”
“A plan?”
“For asking you out. On a date.” He rubs the back of his neck, “But, you just said there’s a guy, so I guess you’re not interested-”
You stare at him, blankly for a moment. And then you step into his space and press your lips against his in an awkward kiss. You pull away quickly, and Dogma stares at you, as though his brain needs a moment to reboot.
He stares at you for long enough that you shift nervously, and avert your gaze, “U-um…I shouldn’t have-”
You’re not able to finish your sentence before Dogma’s lips are hot against yours, and he has you pressed against the tree behind you. Unlike your kiss, which was hesitant and very chaste, his kiss is sure and quickly becomes passionate.
And you’re helpless but to match his intensity, your arms coming up to wrap around his neck and he pins you against the tree.
There’s a loud whistle and a shout of, “Get it, Dogma!” Which causes him to break the kiss, but he doesn’t pull away, instead he presses his forehead against yours, and he raises his hand to flip off whichever brother that was.
There’s the sound of laughter, and then the audience disperses, not that you notice that, as your focus is locked on Dogma, who has all of his attention focused on you.
“So,” Dogma says as he leans in slightly, his lips hovering just over yours, “I’m the guy?”
“You’re the guy.” You agree.
Dogma exhales slowly, his breath fanning across your face, “Good.” He breathes out.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.” His gaze drops to your lips, “So…that date?”
“I’d like to go get some caf with you, Dogma.”
“Then I’ll go change and we can do that.” He murmurs, “But…first…” He trails off as his lips catch yours one more time. 
And, eagerly, you kiss him back.
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missmagooglie · 1 day
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Prefacing this by saying this is not what I EXPECT to happen in 7x09 and 7x10, it's just one specific scenario that I feel particularly feral about right now... so with that said, I'm gonna throw out a dream scenario for the end of S7:
Tommy and Buck are dating and it's going well. Buck is just sort of blossoming in his new identity as a queer man. There's a self-confidence and assuredness to him that we haven't seen before
Meanwhile, Eddie has broken things off with Marisol and is quietly going through his own reevaluation of his sexuality. His awareness of his queerness happens pretty simultaneously with his realization that the way he loves Buck isn't entirely platonic, but he keeps it to himself because Buck is happy with Tommy
Episode 9 finds Eddie and Buck together off duty. Maybe they're having an argument. Maybe on the surface they're arguing about something small but somehow it feels much bigger
Mid-argument some emergency strikes. Buck and Eddie are trapped together and it's BAD. They're both in mortal peril, but it's worse for Eddie. Eddie hopes help will arrive in time to save Buck, but he's pretty sure he won't be alive to see it
(And I just want to stress - I feel like it's essential that they are off duty when this happens. They are in sync on the job, it's how they fit together outside of the job they're still figuring out)
So Eddie gets Buck's attention - because Buck hasn't given up yet. He won't. He CAN'T. He's frantically searching for solutions as Eddie repeats his name in a weakened voice, until finally he cracks and says, "Evan, please. I need you to hear this."
And in the final seconds of episode nine, Eddie Diaz looks Evan Buckley dead in the eye and tells him, "I love you"
Episode ten opens on an unrelated disaster, just to keep us gnashing our teeth a little longer
Maybe we throw some flashbacks in there for good measure
Check in on the rest of the firefam frantically trying to coordinate a rescue effort
But FINALLY they cut back to Buck and Eddie in mortal danger and replay the last few moments of episode 9. And believing these are the last words he'll ever say, Eddie tells Buck how much he loves him. He says he's sorry he realized it too late, but he could never, never regret loving him
Somehow there's a callback reference to Mitchell and Thomas, and the way Buck looked at their clasped hands as they died, and Buck realizing that dying together was never the point of their story. Living together was
And Buck is full sobbing and begging him not to give up yet because Christopher needs him and the team needs him and finally saying "and I need you, Eddie. You can't leave me. You can't-"
We get the sense that Buck is on the cusp of a love confession of his own, but before he gets the words out he's cut off by the sound of helicopter blades overhead.
Their miracle rescue arrives in time, led by none other than Buck's starting-to-be-something-serious boyfriend Tommy
After the rescue, we see Eddie in the back of the ambulance, stable and out of danger, and Buck's about to go over to him but Tommy comes running over and sweeps Buck up in his arms and kisses his temple and says, "thank god you're ok. I don't know what I'd do if I lost you"
And Buck lets himself be held, but his attention is over Tommy's shoulder looking at Eddie
Eddie, who's gonna be ok
Eddie, who loves him
Eddie, who is the absolute center of Buck's world, but Buck has never allowed himself to think of That Way
And Eddie meets Buck's eye over Tommy's shoulder and gives him a sad smile that lets Buck know he intends to go back to quietly loving Buck at just a little bit of a distance so that Buck can be happy with someone else
And just to really twist the knife, we get an overheard piece of dialogue in which Eddie refers to Buck as his "best friend" for the literal first time ever (I'm pretty sure? Up til now, any time the "best friend" label has been used it's been by Buck, but please correct me if I'm wrong.)
And the season ends there
Cue the entire fandom going APESHIT for the entirety of the summer hiatus
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lost-walmartbag · 1 day
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Warning: Swearing
Background: A deal and a sign
Status: Ongoing
Previous part
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Peace by your side: Chapter Four
It was spring, we were four. We would go to this meadow that not many people had known about. At that time the flowers had already grown and me and Kyle would run around before we had to go back home.
We were exhausted from trying to catch butterflies and just laid on the grass together. There were clouds in the sky. The white against the bright blue set the perfect scene for us and I knew I didn't want to be anywhere else. Being there felt right it filled me with the warmth I had always felt when around Kyle, it was nothing like being around the other kids.
I watched the clouds pass and I assumed Kyle was doing the same but when I turned my head to finally look at him, he was staring at me. I thought nothing at the time, but looking back and analyzing the look in his eyes I can see it wasn't nothing, not to him.
"I wish I could touch a cloud," I said shining my bright smile, that I would only show to Kyle at the time. My front tooth had fallen out a few weeks before and it was embarrassing showing it off but I was never embarrassed to show Kyle.
Kyle smiled and took my hand, putting it on top of his head. His red curls felt soft under my palm and strands of red slipped between the gaps of my small fingers.
"I'll be your cloud." His voice was soft and quiet like it was a secret meant only for me.
"You can't be a cloud, clouds are white," I said with a giggle.
"Not always!" He said sitting up, my hand slipping down from his hair.
"Yes always!" I said giggling at his anger, sitting up beside him.
"No. Look!" He said pointing at the sky.
It had gotten darker while we were having our little argument, the sun had started to go down already painting the sky in pinks, oranges, and yellows. Some of the clouds were still white but the ones around the the sun were orange. The exact orange of Kyle's hair.
"See? Clouds can be orange." He said beaming proudly.
"OK. You can be my cloud."
⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅
I look up at him. It's hard to process what he's saying and I can hear only ringing coming from my ears. He's touching my lips and everything inside me is screaming at me to pull away. But another part, a much smaller part, wants to pull him in.
I want him to keep touching me like this. To keep looking at me like I'm the only person on Earth but I shouldn't. Even if we stopped being what we are now and tried to go back to normal like when we were kids it would never be the same. He isn't that same boy who held my hand when it was dark and kissed my bruises when I fell off my bike and I'm not the same person who needed him to do those things.
I looked up at him, his gaze piercing as he looked into my eyes. "What are you.."
"One month. Hell, one week. Let me show you why this isn't who we are. Let me remind you of everything Y/N." He said almost pleading, his thumb moving down from my bottom lip to stroke my cheek and I'm sure he can feel how his touch is burning my skin.
"I-I'ts not a good idea-"
"Why? Because our parents hate each other? They don't need to know. And who gives a fuck Y/N?" He said, his brows furrowing in frustration. "Y/N, please. Just give me this. Let me show you. I'll even take a day."
I don't know what he was planning to do when I agreed to give him the time he wanted but my mind felt like a war zone. Every skeptical part of me fighting so I would say no and tell him to leave me alone and just go back to ignoring him like I'd been doing for years, but across the field, fighting by itself, was the small part of me who wanted this.
And even though it felt like a million against one, that one was winning. Doing so well that when the war in my head was over the words were already tumbling from my lips without restraint.
"How much time do you need?" I asked, my voice quiet but it seemed to impact him as his eyes brightened and the skin that was making contact with mine warmed up.
"As much as you're willing to give me." His voice still sounded a bit distant but at least the ringing in my ears was calming.
"A week," I said before I could take it back.
It seemed to be the right answer though. Kyle looked like I had just told him we were going to Disneyland and he could get on any ride he wanted. "Perfect. More than enough time."
"What are you going to do?"
"I'll figure it out. But you need to be ready. Here give me your number." He said, pulling his hands away from my face so he could grab his phone.
My skin immediately cooled down and I felt a shiver run up my spine as I watched him pull out his phone. He handed it to me and I put in my number to his phone. As I typed in my name so many other names from his contacts popped up and it reminded me of how much I missed. I recognized some of them, kids from school, sports, and clubs. But the ones I didn't recognize were too much that I quickly finished up and handed him his phone back.
"Oh." He said with genuine surprise as he looked at his phone screen.
"W-what?" I asked, worried that maybe somehow I spelled my name wrong or that he realized how bad of an idea this was.
"We're number neighbors. Look." He said with a smile as he showed me his screen. "See? Same nine numbers but yours ends in a five and mine ends in a four."
I smiled a bit because while I didn't believe in them, this had to be a sign. Years apart and somehow there were small things tying us together. Four and five. A sign.
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A/N: Hey guys! I know I know I've been gone for a long ass time. I am so sorry. School is really speeding up right now but I should be out soon and should have like three weeks outside of that and while I make no promises I will try my best to write more. I have even been working on a few things while I've been gone so don't worry. Also small post to go over something coming later today so please stick around for that. As always, thank you for reading. I hope you liked it. Love you all 💚💚💚💚💚💚
Taglist: @southparkynnn @stephs-inluv @weird0o0 @jessiegerl @ringa-starr @bakusquadobsessed @corpseinpink
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gothitelleex · 2 days
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I love Raphael from BG3.
He's a complex character and I absolutely adore every take I've seen and the different prospectives on his character from the fandom.
I also signed the petition for the romance route. But honestly speaking: I want an ending where Tav/Durge/OC gets to decide join him in conquering the 9 layers of hells. I don't even care if it's only as a foot soldier! Or even better, a maid! I honestly would still enjoy it nevertheless.
So. This made me think: what would be like to work under Raphael?
(This is my personal take, so don't come at me please, I have anxiety. Also, I might have gone really deep into the argument in my own way, have mercy.)
(Spoilers under the cut for act 2, 3 and post final boss)
Generally speaking + surviving methods: we get some details from the game already on how Raphael's behaves as a boss. He can be absolutely cruel and straight up torture you if you screw up big time or even small time (or in the case of Hope, he'll keep you in his basement if you don't play along with his whims and refuse to submit). He could scorch your fingers for minimum mistakes (like we read in the house of hope, pardon me I don't remember if it was a diary or not, where he described the performances of the people working under him). What these minimum mistakes could be? For how I see it, it could be when one of his warlocks/debtors are late, or they aren't dressed the part, or they accidentally knocked something down, ect.
Raphael strikes me as the tipe who wants everything to be perfect in his standards at every moment. He also loves to have everything and everyone around him under control, and he is more or less quick to anger; so to survive, the worker would need to be an expert in his mood swings too, and they would need the capacity to dose their words well in some situations. Raphael would want perfection, so the worker should at least be good at covering up their mishap unless they want to join the lemurs.
Would bootlicking work? I think he's not so stupid to not realize when people are sucking up to him, so I believe it could be fine depending on the situation. I also think the bootlicking shouldn't be too obvious or he may think the person in front of him is making fun of him and that could result in death. Or worse: it's hell, who knows what could happen there.
Of course I believe he can be a gentle boss as long as you live up to his standards: something that is almost impossible, and I say almost since Korilla exist. That woman got her fingers scorched a few time and that was it, and I'm pretty sure she's the only one who didn't get punished more severely.
Korilla is the idol of every loyal worker to Raphael, I can bet my soul on that! Everyone who works with her envies her and/or take example from her.
Long story short: if you want to survive while working under Raphael, be Korilla. ʕ ·ᴥ·ʔ👍🏻
Post ending: durge and co have defeated the Nether brain and it's now time to fulfill the deal and give the crown to Raphael.
Now, speaking of the game. I'm going to use Durge because it's my durge Iris that would be crazy enough to sell her soul to be a servant of Raphael. That drow is batshit crazy, but that's a story for another post.
So Raphael comes to collect his crown at Wither's party, and durge not only kneels to give it to him, but they also ask to be granted the honor of working under him in order to see the Archdevil Supreme Raphael's triumph! Raphael would accept and create a new contract, I believe.
Your Durge has accepted Bhaal? No problem! They just have to tell daddy dearest that mortals aren't a worthy sacrifice, so they decided to start their murder spree with devils! Hey, besides it's a war in the hells, there is no place for morality there, so Durge could go crazy without restrain. I believe in this case Raphael wouldn't trust Durge to remain loyal to him and put aside Bhaal's orders, so he would take precautions in any case. Whatever your Durge would want to betray Raphael in the end or not, it would add more spice to the already complicated situation in the hells and in their relationship, whatever it is. I like to think how the situation could lead to a delicious psychological dark romance! In this case I imagine Raphael using every chance to subtly remind Durge who's boss. And unless Durge really enrages him, I don't think he would stop being polite, especially because it was Durge who gave him the crown. My ideal ending if this scenario would be Durge usurping Bhaal and take his place as the God of murder, while also being married to the Archdevil Supreme of the nine hells, Raphael. ʕ ꈍᴥꈍʔ💅🏻
If your Durge is a resist Durge? In this case things would be less violent and I believe Raphael would be less wary of them in general, tho in the case of a contract, I doubt he would be as kind as he was before when he needed something from them. Now they're his to command, he's not just a simple ally to them anymore. So Durge would need to be Korilla 2.0. And as much I'd like the contrary, I don't think Raphael would have someone work closely under him without a contract. So, yet again, praise Korilla for her existence.
Long story short again: be Korilla. ᕦʕ •ᴥ•ʔᕤ
If you've read everything, just know that I love you🪅
P. S: I would work for him as a maid who cleans just to enjoy all the drama while being in the sideline. Just let me be a random NPC who cleans and secretly simps for their boss lol.
P.p.s: I love you Korilla, please just a chance!
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rosemaeridream · 1 day
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i still cant move on from lec!aeri like brooo 😖 its not healthy anymore. but ahaha do u hv anymore thoughts abt lec!aeri or WALK WITHH ME HERE pussy drunk lec!aeri 🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️ or or they get into an argument then make up sex + pussy drunk lec!aeri do u see the vision 🧎‍♀️
pussy drunk and maybe just a little bit wine tipsy 🤗🤗🤗
cw: tipsy sex, overstim, little tiny bit of conditioning
lec!aeri isn’t a bad woman, yk? she’s just trying to make do with accidentally falling head over heels for one of her students. and sometimes the pressure is a little too much for her to hold so having a drink is an admirable choice for her to relax a little.
with a glass of wine and a trashy tv show that should have been cancelled three seasons back, its easy for aeri to settle into a calm state of being.
then you arrive home (yeah, she’s started to refer to you being home at her apartment, so??), with a pinched brow and a slight downturn of your lips.
“stop giving me special consideration.” you blurt as you take off your sweater, aeri’s apartment being 10° warmer than outside. “it makes me feel like i’m not capable.”
aeri’s already tipsy, half-asleep and not understanding anything from the tv show. now’s not the time to be having this conversation.
“i only gave you a couple extra marks because i know you know the content. we were just busy the week you handed in that quiz.” she frowns, not even knowing how you found out about your slightly doctored results.
“but i didn’t get it right in the test. how’s it gonna look when someone figures out that you’re continuously being lax with a student!”
“they won’t! i’ve never done it before.” aeri puts her wine glass to the side, watching you pace on the other side of the room then plop down on the bed with a huff.
“you could lose your job, aeri. i could fuck up my degree! you should know better than to fuck about with my grades.”
“but i was just trying to help. we were in japan that week. you were busy. i know you know the content.” she doubles down, reaching out for your arm.
“yeah, except my friends could start poking around at why we seem so close!” you snap, leaning out of reach.
the argument is dumb in her head right now, and aeri is not sober enough to plot together a proper standpoint and she just wants you to shut up already – so she tilts forward, pulls on the back of your neck and connects your lips desperately.
it's messy from the beginning, she tastes like wine and you're half moaning at the feeling of your teeth knocking together, but it works. you have shut up (apart from the whines and squeaks when she lunges forward to pull you closer), and aeri puffs in smug pride.
she's so smart!! she's not that tipsy!! she totally won that argument!!
every time you moan, it’s swallowed by aeri’s mouth, hungry for more signs of pleasure.
"want... you to... strip for me, baby." she heaves between kisses, already dampening at the thought of getting to taste your sweet little cunt for the first time today. “wanna see my favourite pussy… so leaky and… slick for me.”
your moans aren’t enough for her, she wants it.
now.
her fingers aren’t nimble, clawing and getting caught with your waistband as she tries to pry it down your legs. unfortunately, she’s forgotten that you’re sitting on the bed and clothes aren’t able to phase through solids, even when she’s so desperate to get to her baby’s slick. it’s her favourite meal after all.
fortunately, you’re not as far gone as aeri, lifting your hips so that she can do what she likes with your lower body.
when she’s got your pants off, she finally pulls her mouth away to separate your legs and hold them steady, an unabashed groan when she finally sees your cunt.
“so good for me, baby. lie back so you’re comfortable.” her voice is soft, you can tell that she’s already forgotten about the argument, too focused on pleasing you to remember the irritation from minutes before.
aeri skips the foreplay… or maybe that was the foreplay, considering that she can feel the dampness of her own cunt, and she’s looking at your drenched panties, clinging to your pussy lips.
she licks up the panties, mewing softly at the taste. hushed mutters of “so wet.” or “tastes sweet.” between passes of her tongue over your clothed hole. she’s so fucking obsessed with your cunt, treating it like pure perfection.
it’s not often that she’s softer like this. most of the time she’s firmer during sex — taking the lead, keeping her grip strong, prying your legs apart to overstimulate your clit — but whenever she’s slightly tipsy, she just wants you to feel everything.
“don’t hold back, okay baby?” she mumbled before curling her fingers into the cotton, sliding your panties out of the way and stuffing her mouth full of your cunt.
she laps away like it’s ice cream and she’s trying to get to the chocolate filled tip of the cone, only being encouraged by your moans and squeaks, only pausing to take a breath when it’s absolutely necessary.
whenever her name slips out of her mouth, she makes sure to bump her nose against your clit or give it a little suck as a reward. aeri needs to make sure that you’re hers. no matter what. and maybe she’s getting wetter at the thought of conditioning you to feel pleasure whenever you call her name.
you taste so good, so sweet and delicious that aeri doesn’t even register the feeling of your thighs tightening around her head and the clench of your hole when she slides her tongue in for a pass. she just feels a bit of a wiggle from you and grasps your hips to keep you stable as she continues.
although that soft side continues, the occasional praise of “good girl, keep still for me.” and her warm voice playing around your head, you start to realise that she isn’t letting up. her tongue doesn’t stop moving, curling around your clit, dipping into your hole.
“aeri, ‘s too much.” you paw at her head, trying to push her away.
she ignores your pleading, just wanting more of your slick. she just repeats her phrases, “keep still, angel.” or “you can cum one more time for me.”
but one more is still one less than aeri needs.
————
i really fucking love pussy drunkness.
also that emoji??! okay olivia wilde nodding and smiling reaction gif meme
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bonesandthebees · 2 days
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Recently I was just messing around with a little art project, nothing serious you know, just something to relax. And at that moment I heard a comment saying, that I would be better off working (aka doing something "productive") instead of doing this dumb thing.
So I thought I would come to the most creative person I know and to the dedicated book club anons, that pour their hearts over analysis and ask - were they right? Because damn, it hit kinda hard and I didn't pick up that art project ever since.
How do you keep being creative and doing what YOU want to do? It feels like more and more emphasis is being put on the results and the usefulness of what we have to offer, rather than the joy of doing something silly just for the sake of it. I'm kinda loosing my mind over this, it's crazy.
Please tell me I'm not crazy lmao, it's been bothering me for a while.
-🌹
to answer your first question: no, that person was not right at all. art is in no way a waste of time. the act of making art is the act of being productive because you're creating something with your own two hands. like, I can understand the argument for someone saying that 'passive' activities like watching a tv show might not exactly be productive, because you're not using your brain and you're just kind of consuming what's put in front of you (which does not make watching tv a bad thing. you can have passive hobbies just like active ones and there's nothing wrong with that), but making art? that's actively creating something! that's the definition of being productive!
if you want more justification then here's this: no matter how silly or simple it is, the act of partaking in creation of any kind is going to engage your brain. engaging in creative hobbies helps relax you while also building skills. even if the art project is simple, you're still practicing. you're building or strengthening foundations.
of course this isn't to say that the only reason its worth doing those silly things is because it helps build your skills. I also fully agree that we can do those silly things just for the sake of them bringing us joy, but also I think people need to recognize that it's fundamentally good and healthy for us to experience joy like that! you can't function as well if you're stressed, and activities like that bring stress levels down!
I've always reminded myself of these facts when it comes to my own creativity. no act of creation is wasted. it's building/strengthening my skills even if the piece itself never sees the light of day. it's engaging my brain in a healthy way. it's not harming me at all, it's helping me in so many small ways. and most importantly, I love it. I love writing. I love creating my own worlds through my words.
creativity is NEVER wasted, it's always helping you in some way or another
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Hello hello again! It's good to have you back for a little while! Unfortunately there is a lot of infighting in the critical sphere right now and it's not very fun to follow. And worse still Lily is as smug as ever. People are too invested in who ripped off what, who's disrespecting this or that, they should just be having fun at Lily's expense. That's what Saiscribbles has done, and you can tell how effective it is because Lily has tried every strategy in the book to prove how not mad she is.
You know what?
I think I would like to poke fun at the whole thing. I mean, it's sounds like she's gotten a bit ridiculous since I've been gone. (Ridiculous sounds like an understatement, thought.)
I've done serious and it's exhausting. You can only take her serious for so long before you realize she doesn't really even know or believe what she's saying.
As for the fighting, well... It's a shame, but let's try to focus on what's at the core of this blog: Gossiping about Lily.
...But I do have one thing I want to get off my chest, so I will mention it here and then move on. It is under the read bar just so those who don't care can ignore it.
I do have one thing to say about the drama, and that's about Ethel.
They are a liar liar pants on fire.
Seriously, I watched Evangeline Skovs video, which was one of the better coverages on the subject and there was no plagiarism. Not even of me, and I was a source!
Never mind that fact that Ethel legit lied about my blog in their rebuttal, claiming that Levi couldn't find anything on my blog about their video, or glade, so Evangeline was lying.
Their proof? Levi used the search bar, used the word minor and glade, and nothing came up except one post...
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Fun fact: I'm bad at tagging things, and my search bar is kind of useless because of that.
(Side note: why would I use glade's name? Why would I want to draw attention to someone who I assumed wanted to be left alone? I'm pretty sure that was made clear in the video.)
Anyway, if you used my archive you could easily find TONES of posts from me talking about the video in question with details.
Here's one that Ethel conveniently left out:
And you know what's hilarious about that? They reblogged this take to try and rebuke it on their tumblr. (That they have long since abandoned.)
I decided to ignore it, because obviously I'm not going to try and get in a fight with them, and Ethel was so mad by that they messaged me directly to try and threaten me with legal jargon.
So I blocked them.
But hey, since I'll probably never bother with this again, here are the messages. Enjoy old drama from like...2 years ago:
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Image text here:
[Okay, I've put this off for as long as possible, but please, read this case study as right now you are parroting harmful legal advice. Victim testimony not only constitutes evidence, but can be sufficient evidence to convict, a fact that was tested in Commonwealth v Gustavo Gonzalez Santos in Massachusetts.
I’ll highlight two relevant sections in case you don’t have the time to read the entire thing: “The defendant's sole argument on appeal is that the evidence was not sufficient to support his convictions. The defendant asserts that "there were no witnesses to the alleged assaults," "no physical evidence," "no medical or forensic evidence," and "no expert testimony." He argues that "there was absolutely no conclusive evidence presented at trial that suggested the [d]efendant's guilt beyond a reasonable doubt."” And: “Here, the victim testified to facts that constituted each element of the charged offenses. Her testimony, which the jury found to be credible, was sufficient, standing alone, to support a finding beyond a reasonable doubt as to each of the convictions. See, e.g., Commonwealth v. Lawrence, 68 Mass. App. Ct. 103, 104 (2007)
("The victim's testimony was sufficient evidence of [indecent assault and battery on a child under age fourteen]"); Commonwealth v. Gonsalves, 23 Mass. App. Ct. 184, 185 (1986) ("The victim's account of what the defendant did to him in the apartment was sufficient to overcome the defendant's motion for a required finding of not guilty of rape"). The idea that long infected our legal system that the victim's testimony in sexual assault and rape cases is less credible than the testimony of victims in cases involving other types of crimes -- an idea that reflected nothing more than sexism and an unwillingness on the part of our courts to treat sexual crimes as the gravely serious matter that they are -- has been rejected both by statute and by common law.”
When you and others continue to parrot the myth that victim testimony does not constitute as valid evidence, you are harming victims of rape and abuse. This is straight up rape culture and, since I’m pushing back any video coverage on the matter until I’ve finished dealing with Lily because I don’t want to muddle things, I need you to stop promoting falsehoods. We have legal members on our team who have passed the bar, Patchie does not, Opal does not, and neither does You Can Eat Hearts. You are causing unnecessary harm to victims by breathing life into myths constructed by rape culture. To be clear, I am not asking for your denouncement of certain people, just for you to please, stop publishing bad legal takes.
This is also the case in Canada, if you're wondering - https://www.accused.ca/evidence.htm
Sorry, I just realized I didn't give you the US case study. Here it is - http://masscases.com/cases/app/100/100massappct1.html#:~:text=The%20jury%20found%20the%20defendant,We%20affirm. ]
Oct 30, 2022 9:16 AM
Whew, you have no idea how long I wanted to spill this tea.
Alright, I've said what I've wanted to say on this topic. I'm now going to focus on laughing at Lily and her horrible incest stories.
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sugdenlovesdingle · 3 days
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Way more than Seven sentence Sunday
Thanks for tagging me in other stuff this weekend @lightningboltreader @carlos-in-glasses, sorry I didn't get around to those, but I'm tagging you both back for today.
And thanks for the tag @sznofthesticks
I don't really know what this is - it's been knocking around my head for a few days and it may or may not go anywhere. It's kind of tarlos, kind of a bucktommy crossover with the OG, kind of Nancy/Marjan.
---
"I'm just saying, I have an excellent gaydar." TK insisted. "I clocked him three years ago." He held up his phone to show Nancy the picture of Buck and his new boyfriend.
Nancy rolled her eyes.
"Please. Your gaydar is just saying everyone is gay until every once in a while you turn out to be right."
"What? No it's not. I could tell with Carlos"
Nancy scoffed.
"Carlos asked you to dance. I was there. I saw."
"No, we met on a call earlier that day. And I knew it when I saw him there."
"Knew what?" Carlos asked, walking into the firehouse, making the rest of the crew realise it was lunchtime. He greeted TK with a kiss and waited for an explanation of the conversation he'd interrupted.
"Your husband thinks he has a gaydar because that guy from LA he thinks hit on him during the wildfires is dating a guy now." Nancy quickly got him up to speed.
"Oh Buck and Tommy? The pilot? I saw his post earlier. I was bored on my coffee break and you were out on a call." Carlos explained with a shrug. "Good for him. He seems happy."
"Is that it? He hit on me when he was down here."
"Yeah, well, you married me, didn't you?"
"And I don't think he's interested anymore." Nancy commented, nodding at the picture on TK's phone. "And besides, we've been partners for almost three years now and you never clocked me. You have no gaydar."
TK stared at her.
"But... What? How? You dated Mateo." he stammered and Carlos bit back a laugh.
"Yes and Lexi Mitchell was my first girlfriend in high school. Welcome to the wonderful world of bisexuality."
TK looked back and forth between her and Carlos.
"Did you know?"
"Lexi might have mentioned it when you and I got serious and we were hanging out here a lot." Carlos explained. "And Nance told us at game night that she was always taller than her date, even if they were in six inch heels."
TK blinked a few times as he tried to process the new information.
"I'm an idiot." he said after a few minutes.
"No argument here." Nancy replied and Carlos just pressed a kiss to the side of his head.
"So is there a girl you like then? Is that why you and Mateo broke up?"
"There is someone I like... someone I've liked for a long time... And she's amazing. Gorgeous inside and out... but... I don't think she likes me like that..." Nancy sighed and looked over his shoulder to where Marjan was checking equipment on the ladder truck.
TK followed her gaze.
"Marj?!" he whispered.
"Yeah... But just drop it dude. I know she's not interested."
----
tagging @lemonlyman-dotcom @cold-blooded-jelly-doughnut @welcometololaland @your-catfish-friend @welcometololaland
@im-overstimulated-and-im-sad @bonheur-cafe @sanjuwrites + an open tag for whoever wants to share something!
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atypicalsouda · 1 year
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Long personal vent/rant sorry if I come off too rude I didn’t mean to-
Ahh I don’t understand why soudam is even a thing…..😔
Like please I don’t hate ya for shipping it but it’ll never make sense to me. Yeah they have a bit in common cuz they both hide behind facades, but other than that they blatantly just insult each other because they genuinely don’t understand where the other is coming from. I’m sorry but I really can’t see Kaz coming to a point where he understands and likes/loves Gundham enough for a long lasting relationship. And on Gundham’s side where are any of you getting that he’d ever be interested in Kaz at all? Please explain that to me. There’s not one instance in which they’re nice to each other /seem attracted, even in extra stuff like UTDP. I firmly believe that it just wouldn’t be a good relationship. Just cuz Kaz seemed a little curious about the devas in the anime doesn’t mean anything to me. But by all means I don’t hate ya, I’m not going to tell you to DNI, I just want to agree to disagree.
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elftwink · 4 months
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one thing thats so interesting about being a vegetarian is you get to hear all about everyones hypothetical activism that they care about very deeply when talking specifically about your diet and why it's stupid, but literally will never bring up ever again in any other context
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craycraybluejay · 5 months
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Still considering becoming a lawyer someday. Any of y'all been to law school? What is it like? Are there scholarships (and what is required to get said scholarships?)?
How about practicing law? Do any of you have time for other career and hobby work? How long does it take to get to where you want to be after graduating law school?
If anyone in the field of law in the U.S. can tell me what to expect from law school and/or actually being a practicing lawyer please talk to me about it!
I think I'd be good at it if I put in the work but I want to know if that path is worth it for me and the lifestyle I want. Thank you
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