#instead screw the grandmother

[section-69]

In earlier seasons I've really disliked Raffi but so far I'm loving her in season 3!! Idk if it's proximity to Worf or distance from the earlier seasons crew or just that she. Like. Has a job now?

I've said before that a major thing I love about Star Trek is that it shows people who are really good at what they do being competent, so probably part of it is that her being the Romulan expert is becoming useful.

Anyway. Still got major issues with this show. But there's finally significant good stuff too

[sungbeam]

nonidol!jeong yunho x f!reader

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Sure. Easy.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Sure.”

“Calm down, man.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You softened. Oh, he was really nervous.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You blinked. “What does that mean?”

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

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

“Oh yeah, you're gonna love—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Maybe,” Wooyoung giggled.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You sighed. “I hate you guys.”

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

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

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

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

“Jongho, protect me.”

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

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

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

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

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

Everyone at the table paused in confusion.

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

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

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

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

Regardless, you remained positive.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Your eyes cracked open slowly. “Yunho.”

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

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

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

You hummed in reply.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“In-fucking-sane.”

“You're telling me.”

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

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

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

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

“No, Seonghwa did when he overheard.”

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

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

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

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

“Not cooler than me though, right?”

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

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

“Oh, I wouldn't dream of it.”

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

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

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

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

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

Yunho froze. “What?”

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

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

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

“Hey?” He laughed.

“I'm proud of you.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Uhm… hey?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hyung—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I miss you already,” you whispered.

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m glad we’re on the same page.”

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

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

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

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

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

“And I’m Oprah,” she deadpanned.

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

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

“But—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

(It was not a 24-hour fever.)

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

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

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

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

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

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

Could things get any worse?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You know what? I'm flying home—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You swear on your life?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

A nod. “Yeah.”

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

Yunho's quiet was answer enough.

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

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

“Have you guys talked since last week?”

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

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

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

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

I love her.

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

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

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

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

Yunho nodded. “Yeah.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And awake, you definitely were.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

A beat passed, and then, “NO.”

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

“Jeong Yunho, put your damn tongue away.”

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

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

You didn't need to be told twice.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You deserve it.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Mhm?”

“Could we… talk about something?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I did not yell at you!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

atz m.list

permanent taglist: @flwoie @vatterie @seomisaho @hqrana @ja4hyvn @outrologist @rikizm @tinkerbell460 @meosjinn @hyunjaespresent-deobi @stayarmytinyzenmoa-l @floatingpluto @gyulfriend @jaehunnyy @shakalakaboomboo @soonyoungblr @justanotherkpopstanlol @kangfication @pxppxrminty @fluorescentloves @haechansbbg @jaerisdiction @super-btstrash-posts @jundundun @http-gyu @mvvnsseul @mars101 @kflixnet

[g1rld1ary]

you never disappointed me - part two

part one part two part three part four

➻ synopsis: luke castellan x aphrodite!reader ; percy and beckendorf's plan to set you up with luke is in motion, but you're extremely resistant to any advances (10 things I about you AU)

➻ word count: 3462

➻ warnings: swearing, ooc/kind of loser!luke, ooc silena, she/her pronouns used for reader, sexual innuendos

➻ thank u so much for all the love on part 1 I am such a happy gal!!!!! also, have my first day at uni tomorrow (so pls wish me luck) and sorry if updates slow down!

TAGLIST: @myxticmoon @wicca-void @leeknows-wife @thekittyxo-blog @number-onekidqueen @instabull

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

It turned out that getting you to go out with Luke was harder than he’d originally anticipated. Eager for the whole ordeal to be over and for him to be 50 dollars richer, he’d hopped down from his spot on a fallen log and hurried to meet you by the volleyball courts when your match ended. You, unaware of Luke’s agenda, were fanning your face to combat some of the sweat that had accumulated, quickly tightening the messy ponytail you’d tied. Luke watched you in your own world, unbothered by anybody watching you, unlike the rest of your siblings. Sucking in a quick breath for confidence he approached you.

“Hey there, girly,” He smiled, “How’re you doing?” You looked up at him, inquisitive for a moment but ultimately unimpressed.

“Sweating like a pig actually, and yourself?” You were barely looking at him, skulling an impressive amount of your water bottle quickly. He stared at you, not expecting to be dismissed so easily. He recovered smoothly, not prepared to give up so soon.

“You really know how to get a guy’s attention, huh?”

“My mission in life,” You shot him a cloying smile, now giving him your full attention, unable to help being slightly interested by his boldness. “But obviously I’ve struck your fancy, so you see it worked. The world makes sense again.” You‘d figured out his motives now and had no interest, so began the walk back to your cabin. He followed, much to your dismay. Couldn’t men ever take the hint?

“So I’ll pick you up Friday then?”

“Oh right, Friday, uh huh.” You kept your eyes ahead, dodging a few younger kids as Luke trailed after you, annoyingly optimistic still.

“The night I take you places you’ve never been before,” He said, and you looked at him in disbelief. The ego on this kid!

“Right, like the makeout clearing in the forest? Do you even know my name, Castellan?” Luke could tell that you were mocking him, but he still had high hopes.

“I know a lot more than you think.” He smiled then, a lopsided thing that would have been somewhat charming if you’d actually bothered to look. Instead you were already walking away, calling out a “Doubtful. Very doubtful,” over your shoulder as you picked up into a run, presumably to go tell Clarisse about the bizarre experience you just had. Luke watched you go, dumbstruck in the middle of camp.

Percy and Beckendorf watched the exchange from the porch of the Hephaestus cabin, the latter putting his head in his hands dramatically.

“We’re screwed,” He groaned and Percy winced slightly.

“I’m sure it’ll all be fine, dude. Luke has faced a lot worse than a teenage girl.”

When you sat at dinner that night, desperately avoiding the eye contact Luke seemed desperate on initiating, you almost told Silena about your bizarre day. You’d opened your mouth to start the story when you realised that she’d only be encouraged by Luke’s antics, pressuring you into going out with him for her own benefit and quickly shut it. She’d noticed your odd behaviour and searched for meaning in your face. Panicking for something to replace the conversation, you zeroed in on the necklace sitting nicely on top of her camp one.

“Where’d you get the pearls?” You asked, already dreading the answer. Silena only confirmed your fears, claiming them as your grandmother’s with a coy smile.

“So what? You’ve just been hiding them the last three years?” You were always closest with your grandmother, and you were sure she wouldn’t leave her favourite pearls for Silena over you.

“Daddy found them in a drawer just before summer.” Silena shrugged as if you weren’t sitting across from her, cheeks a blotchy red in your upset. “Besides, they look good on me.” Your hands itched to hit her as she tucked a strand of hair behind her ears, knowing exactly how much she was pissing you off.

“Trust me, they don’t,” You spat, quietly glad when Silena stalked off in a huff, amongst the first to leave the meal. You didn’t know how much longer you could argue with her before starting to cry, which you really didn’t want to do in front of the whole camp. You thought you were safe for the rest of the meal when Drew began speaking instead.

“You could try being nice sometimes, you know, people wouldn’t know what to think.” You rolled your eyes aggressively.

“You forget, I don’t care what people think,” You replied, taking in a spoonful of food.

“Yes you do. Everyone does. You know, with a new look you could have some serious potential.” You ignored her last statement.

“No, I don’t,” You emphasised, “You don’t always have to be who they want you to be.” You knew that wouldn’t impact Drew in the slightest, but you hoped it might resonate with some of your younger siblings — encourage them to nurture their internal beauty rather than accept the vain stereotype Aphrodite children were forced into. You pushed yourself out of the bench you were sitting on, needing a break from your insufferable siblings. As you dumped your dishes where they needed to be you saw Luke beginning to follow you and turned to make dead eye contact. Knowing you’d only scream at him (or worse) you gave him a dangerous look, accompanied with an almost imperceptible shake of your head. Not enough for anyone else to know you’d even acknowledged him, but enough to tell Luke to back off. He was smarter than you thought, as he held up his hands in a show of surrender, redirecting his action to innocently collect up his own dishes.

You may not have had any interest in knowing the boy, but you did appreciate that he knew when to back off. Or so you thought.

You were proven not-so-free from Luke Castellan the very next morning. It was the Aphrodite cabin’s day to check all the storerooms, and you’d volunteered to do the one which held all the weapons and armour near the sword fighting arena. You knew none of your siblings would come near if they could help it, mostly against weapons and the violence that surrounded the area, so you’d get a whole morning alone. It was peaceful attending to the chore, and you were allowed to use some of your Aphrodite eye for beauty. Of course, stacks of swords and assorted weapons could only be made so pretty, but you enjoyed organising them into neat rows, making it look as nice as possible — not that you would admit that to Silena or you’d be in her vanity chair receiving an unwelcome makeover in seconds.

You were just admiring your own sword, which you’d taken the time to polish while you were taking care of the others, when you felt a presence behind you. You didn’t react, assuming it was just some camper coming for a weapon, until he spoke.

“Nice sword, vintage hilt?” You tensed as Luke’s voice infiltrated your peace.

“Are you following me?” You disregarded his statement, an unimpressed frown present on your lips.

“I was training in the arena and needed to polish my sword. I saw you come in a while ago and not leave, I came to say hi,” He explained, and you raised an eyebrow. You weren’t friends, why would he come for a chat?

“Hi.” You promptly turned back to your task, shoving the cloth into the intricate designs of the hilt.

“Not a big talker, huh?” He persisted.

“Depends on the topic. My sword doesn’t exactly whip me into a verbal frenzy.” That wasn’t strictly true — the sword was a gift from your mother, with gold twisting around a blood red ruby in the centre of the hilt. After you’d made it clear that you weren’t going to just sit around during your time at camp she gifted you the sword, her way of saying that if you were going to fight, you should at least look good doing it. You’d had several conversations with Clarisse gushing over the intricacy of it, and profusely thanked Aphrodite for the gift in your offerings. You didn’t quite care to share this with Luke, being a relative stranger.

“You’re not afraid of me, are you?” He asked, and you were somewhat taken aback by the earnest tone of his voice.

“Afraid of you? Why would I be afraid of you?” You couldn’t help the incredulous laugh that crept into your sentence.

“Most people are.” He gestured subtly towards his scar — gnarled and twisted against his otherwise tanned skin. You put a hand on your hip, resigned to conversation now.

“Well, I’m not.”

“Ok, maybe you’re not afraid of me, but I’m sure you’ve thought about me naked.” You were pretty sure Luke was going for smooth or charming, but you thought in this moment he was entirely lame. The wink didn’t help his case.

“Am I that transparent? I want you, I need you. Oh baby, oh baby.” You put on your best Drew impression, nasally and whiny, before handing him the cloth he needed to polish his own sword and turning to leave. There, quickly approaching the door, was Ethan. Seeing you he put on a disgusting smirk and blocked the doorway, effectively caging you into the storeroom.

“Gods, what is it, asshole day?” You asked, not caring that both boys could very clearly hear you. “Do you mind?” You gestured to his blocking the exit. He simply looked down at you, clearly doing his best to appear sexy (and failing miserably).

“Not at all.” His stupid smirk was going to kill you, and not in the good way. You scoffed, giving him a last chance to get the fuck out of your way. Then, sparing a fraction of a glance back to Luke pretending to mind his own business, you slammed the hilt of your sword into his foot, wishing it was the blade instead. You watched him crumble to the ground, holding his foot with both hands.

“You bitch!” He yelled, voice cracking pathetically in the middle. You forced your smile to stay contained.

“Oops,” You feigned innocence, one hands covering your mouth strategically. “You might need some ambrosia for that…” With that you side-stepped him, eager to leave the situation. If you’d have looked back, you would have seen the gleeful, disbelieving smile on Luke’s face, probably the biggest one he’d worn in a while. Although he didn’t get the date he’d entered for, he was beginning to think you were a little more interesting than you let on.

“Did you just cripple Ethan?” Silena shrieked as you entered your cabin to grab your things. “He’s a model, you can’t do that! Has it escaped your notice that you’re completely psychotic?” You pretended to think for a moment, then shrugged nonchalantly.

“Guess your long walks on the beach are gonna have to wait,” You sighed dramatically, leaving Silena to wallow in her pity alone. It wasn’t like it was really your fault — if Ethan had learned how to respond to words or learn the meaning of ‘move’ he wouldn’t have gotten himself into that situation in the first place.

Meanwhile, Ethan and Luke were having a similarly emotional conversation after Luke had — very reluctantly — helped Ethan over to the infirmary to get his foot checked out.

“When I shell out fifty, I expect results.” Luke sighed, could this boy get any whinier?

“Yeah, I’m on it,” He said through gritted teeth, resisting the urge to hurt him.

“Watching that bitch obliterate my foot doesn’t count as a date. If you don’t get any, I don’t get any, so let’s get some,” Ethan said, running a hand through his ridiculously styled hair. Luke couldn’t believe his nerve. First of all, obliterated? He would be left with a bruise for a few days, if anything. Secondly, this whole things was Ethan’s idea, Luke had never given any indication wanting to ‘get some’, especially not with someone so clearly resisting his advances. Just as Ethan left, giving the Apollo girl treating him a douchebag smile, Luke hardened his resolve.

“I just upped my price,” He said, loving the way Ethan’s eyes widened like a cartoon character. “A hundred bucks a date, in advance.”

“Forget it,” Ethan grumbled, moving to leave again.

“Forget her sister then.” The two boys stared at each other, one significantly more amused than the other. Luke knew he had the upper hand in the dynamic, something he revelled in. Then, after the intimidation tactic clearly wasn’t having any effect, Ethan reached for his wallet, Luke admiring the crisp fifty he was handed.

“You better hope you’re as smooth as you think you are, Castellan.” Luke just watched him go, confident tilt of his head conveying his outlook on the situation.

Luke had taken his usual spot overseeing combat training, but his usual thoughts were long gone. Instead, he was entirely preoccupied with you. He didn’t know how to get you to go out with him when you could barely entertain a conversation, and he twirled his cigarette between his fingers as he pondered.

Percy and Beckendorf saw his internal conflicts, slowly moving closer to him under the guise of a very chaotic fight between the two. Finally Luke gave them attention, knowing Percy’s skills would never have him running all over the place like that. He raised an eyebrow, a sign for them to get on with whatever they were angling at.

“We know what you’re trying to do, for Beauregard,” Percy said, and Luke appeared almost startled.

“And we want to help,” Added Beckendorf helpfully, shying away when Luke’s eyes bore into his.

“And why would you do that?”

“Beckendorf here has a major crush on Silena—”

“Gods, what is it with this girl? Does she sweat nectar?” Beckendorf opened his mouth to protest when Percy spoke over him, knowing it would be more beneficial to let Luke lead.

“Look, I think we can both tell that Charlie’s love is pure, well-intentioned, better than, say, Ethan White?” Luke sighed, catching on.

“I’m in this for the cash, that’s it. Who Ethan wants to bang is of no interest to me.”

“There will be no banging!” Beckendorf cried as Percy pushed him behind. He was no use in a delicate situation like this.

“Ok, Luke, it’s just that we’re the masterminds behind this whole thing. We set it up so Beckendorf can get the girl — Ethan’s just a pawn.” Luke paid closer attention suddenly, intrigued by the chess match he’d been pulled into.

“So you two are gonna help me win her over?”

“We’ll do research, find out what she likes. We can be your guys on the inside.”

“In a strictly non-mission type of way,” Beckendorf added helpfully, nervous of the legends he’d heard about Luke’s failed quest. Luke chose to simply ignore that comment, and Percy filled the silence before he could get angry about it.

“Let’s just start here: the Apollo cabin is throwing a party on Friday night, it’s the perfect opportunity.”

“I’ll think about it,” Was all Luke said, a clear signal the conversation was over. Percy and Beckendorf returned to fighting, slightly more regulated now they had gotten what they’d wanted, and Luke brought the cigarette back up to his lips, new thoughts clouding his mind.

Meanwhile, Ethan had found Silena where she was known to hang out by the rocks near the lake. He was hovering next to her, providing snatches of shade as he performed pose after pose, claiming he had a modelling job lined up when he left for the year.

“So which do you like better?” He asked, moving his hands fractionally to the left of his chin.

“The second,” Silena giggled, tucking a strand of dark hair behind her ear. “It’s more… pensive.”

“Damn,” Ethan kicked the sand softly. “I was going for thoughtful. So, you going to the Apollo party on Friday?”

“Maybe.” She produced her best coy smile, looking up at him from behind her lashes.

“Good, ‘cause you know I’ll only bother if you’re there.” Silena smiled, getting up from her spot on the rock.

“Bye.” Her voice was airy in the way she knew drove boys mad. She walked away leaving Ethan wanting more, her specialty. You scoffed, catching the end of the exchange. You and Silena made momentary eye contact, tension thick between the two of you.

As Beckendorf approached Silena, fishing for more information about you, Ethan had caught you in his sights and wasn’t going to let you go so easily.

“You sister is so cute,” His voice infiltrated your bubble in a way that made you want to hit him so desperately. “Doesn’t have your bite though, a feisty woman is so sexy.” You knew he was just trying to get a rise out of you, but it was so close to working.

“Come any closer and I’ll show you just how feisty I can get,” You snapped, braid almost whacking him in the face as you turned to face him. You could have sworn Ethan looked afraid for a second before he covered it with bravado.

“One day you’re gonna realise that all of this hostility is just your sexual repression. Don’t worry, babe, I’ll be waiting with open arms… And legs.” You almost threw up.

“Gods, can’t you just leave me alone, asshole?” You yelled, trying to push past him to get anywhere else.

“C’mon, don’t be a prude,” He whined, and you were really close to taking him to the ground — not in the way he wanted.

“You heard the girl,” A voice called from behind you, and instantly Ethan took a step back. “She wants you to leave her alone.” Luke appeared behind you, a respectful distance away whilst still making his intentions clear. Ethan shrunk back into himself, making a lame excuse as to why he had to leave, hurriedly fleeing the beach. Reluctantly, you turned to face Luke.

“I’m not going out with you just for that,” You said plainly, daring him to try again.

“You think that low of me?” He laughed, dark eyes sparkling with mirth. You forced yourself not to notice. “I don’t have to want something from you to know that Ethan White isn’t worth your time.” It was your turn to be embarrassed at that, feeling slightly narcissistic for assuming that was the purpose of the conversation (it was, but Luke sure as hell wasn’t going to ruin his chances because you were in a mood, justified or otherwise).

“Oh.” You stared at his shoes. “Well, thanks, I guess.” You moved to leave but Luke stopped you, hand not quite touching your arm, unwilling to have it bitten off.

“So you do have a heart!” He joked, signature grin on his face. You wondered why you were seeing so much of it lately when he’d been so dour since his quest.

“Ha! You wish.”

“Don’t try to hide it, Beauregard, you’re warming up to me.”

“I’d sooner fuck Mister D,” You replied, actually taking your leave.

Luke watched you go, chewing his lip between his teeth. There was more to you than you let on, he was sure of it. He wouldn’t say it was any fondness, but he was starting to have a curiosity attaching itself to this scheme, and he knew that going out with you would satisfy it. He should have known having any personal stakes involved — sentimental or otherwise — would get dangerous.

Your own thoughts had barely budged on Luke. He was still a pain in your side and you figured you knew what kind of guy he was — not the type you had any interest in. Still, you couldn’t deny that you were appreciative he’d saved you from Ethan (and the inevitable washing up duty you’d be punished with when you beat him up), so maybe he wasn’t quite as despicable as you’d initially judged him to be. Close, though.

part three

[pinkiscent]

im officially done with this show. i'm never tuning in again. it baffles me how the writers can make the women spineless in this show again and again. their only purpose is to love their children and try to make the men around them logical because war is bad!!!! even though the war they're fighting is literally because of them. 14 year old rhaenyra was more focused and had way more character than what adult rhaenyra has ever showed us in these last 7 episodes with her. they have stripped her not only of book!rhaenyra's traits but also of young rhaenyra's. you're telling me this rhaenyra is the same that went to dragonstone to kick daemon out and get back her brother's egg? you would have thought that all those years at kings landing under alicent's abuse would have hardened her but nope. she's a sick joke of the woman that fought for her right to the throne. this rhaenyra is the one i'm expected to believe that her bannermen will rally for even after her death? how would i believe that when she doesn't even attempt to defend the lands closest to dragonstone? how would i believe that when it is her 15 year old son the one that puts some sense into her head?

rhaenys' death was meant to be pretty harsh but instead i felt nothing. her only role in the war was to protect rooks rest and burn aegon before she dies, but they cannot even let her do that. book!rhaenys was a fierce woman that stood by rhaenyra not only because she was the grandmother to her children but also because she knew what it was like to be put aside in favor of a man. she is nothing of the sort in this show. she let rooks rest fall, barely scratched sunfyre and didn't even come close to doing anything to vhagar. her death represents nothing cause show!rhaenys is nothing. we don't know anything about her other than she's mad at daemon for keeping laena away from driftmark and is mad at rhaenyra for murdering laenor. that's it.

women are incapable of being selfish, vengeful or spiteful. they're only victims to the evil men around them that have their own agenda

they screwed up rhaenys' storyline which makes it clear they will ruin baela's, which was kind of like a mirror to rhaenys' in this fight. killing aegon was a team effort between rhaenys, baela and corlys. but now that has gone to shit. so, yeah. im giving up on this show.

it baffles me how grrm keeps letting these people ruin his life's work but maybe he doesn't care about what he wrote and is just in it for the money

[bones4thecats]

Living with Their Fae! S/O

Type of Writing: Poll Result Characters: Jack Howl, Azul Ashengrotto, Rook Hunt, and Sebek Zigvolt Name: Living with Their Fae! S/O Original Poll Link: Here

A/N: This took a while to write and I apologize for that, but I do hope you enjoy this, hopefully, beautiful piece! When I originally wrote this, it was just how they met, but, I rethought it all, and this is when they're adults and have a future together, along with meeting their family. Anyways, enjoy!

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🐺 Your family had moved from Briar Valley to the Shaftlands so they could get away from the pestering of the fae being against the humans due to their history

🐺 When Jack first met you, you were messing around with a small squirrel as his siblings spoke to you

🐺 Jack was warned by his parents that fae were people to not be messed with, but, watching as you calmly smiled at his siblings as they screwed around while the tree-rodent ate an acorn while hanging off your horn, he couldn't help but rethink it all

🐺 You and him both joined Night Raven College, and many wouldn't expect such a delicate soul to be friends, nonetheless lovers, with a many-described brute like Jack

🐺 He is an amazing boyfriend through-and-through

🐺 Once you guys graduated NRC, you and him finalized your relationship and met each others' parents, and, newsflash, they love you both, and they have an amazing co-parenting relationship with one another

🐺 When your relationship started, you both basically began courting, as both fae and beastman normally stay together for life, never leaving one another for another being

🐺 Does he want children? Oh sweet seven, yes he does

🐺 He helped raise his younger brother and sister, of course he loves, and is amazing around, children

🐺 While many go against it all, since you're a fae and he's a beastman, you both go against them all instead, and end up having around three-four children, one of whom has both fae and beastman qualities, while the others have one or the other

🐺 Jack adores his children to bits, but, since you grew up with strong magic, you end up being more lenient with how they rest, so, in summary, he's the strict dad, while you're the hang-loose parent

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🐙 Azul met you because of a deal opportunity, and, seeing how prominent you were in the Diasomnia dorm, alongside Lilia Vanrouge and Malleus Draconia, he wanted your power

🐙 After his overblot, he did not want to speak to anyone outside the twins, since it only made him wonder why he did everything without real reasoning

🐙 Despite his wrongdoings, hearing you walk into his dorm-room with a small plate of clam chowder and request to speak, it shocked him to his core, why were you forgiving him?

🐙 It took a while, maybe around a few months, for him to actually realize you cared about him more than any friend would, and it made him embarrassed. It's not that he didn't like you back, but, you were a fae and he was a merman, nonetheless, a octo-mer, you were far superior to him in his eyes

🐙 This merman has a complicated relationship with his family, as his birth-father and his mother divorced and how his step-father has tried to fill the man's shoes, and how his grandmother lived away

🐙 But, when Crowley organized a 'Family Day' in order to give his students a day or relaxation and pleasure, to which he boasted on how generous he was, of course, and you both ended up running into one another with your families in tow

🐙 Surprisingly enough, they bonded quickly, with his step-father and your father speaking on how they moved away due to racial issues between fae and humans, in which Mr. Ashengrotto offered advice, and your mother and his two female family members spoke about you both

🐙 Once graduated, you and Azul began to work on building up Mostro Lounge and his mother's restaurant, and eventually, you married and began to sort out your lives more

🐙 As a powerful fae, you could use special spells to sort out your bodily form, and you settled on a near-matching mimic octopus form

🐙 When you found out you were having children together, it was completely coincidental, and in turn, you had two children, one who took on more of a fae-appearance and the other looked more like a merperson

🐙 You grew up with magic being a key-element in your life while he did not, he valued hard-work, so, he was trying to help raise his children while helping you be more of a strict person, despite you being far stricter than him

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🏹 Rook first met you while scouting around the surroundings of Pomefiore in search of some of the new first years, and that was when he stumbled upon a stone, which led him to a panicking you

🏹 Ever since then, whenever Rook got bored, he would shoot you a message and meet you up in that very spot where he met you, and he found out he loved you when he looked over at your face and saw the moonlight reflect off your face

🏹 He gave you nicknames much like the other students at Night Raven College, though, your's were more romantic-sounding than the others, since he called you things like; "Mon trésor", "Mon ange", "Mon lapin", and "Ma fée"

🏹 This guy is a 10/10 boyfriend, much like Jack. That is because he always can tell what you are feelings, even if you have the slightest mood change, he's the first to notice it

🏹 Rook never really had anything work-wise planned when he started attending NRC, but, once he met and started his relationship with you, he began to get more into planning, and his main one was to be a Photographer of Wildlife, since he knew how to find and interact with different animals

🏹 You met Rook's family earlier on in the relationship, and to put it simply, they all adored you so much. His siblings mainly focused on your horns and whatnot that made you a fae, writing down everything they found out about the species

🏹 While many saw him as a red flag, you adored your hunter to smithereens, despite the fact that he basically hunted you during your time at NRC

🏹 When you guys graduated, he and you moved back into one of the many villas his family has in the Shaftlands, since you couldn't leave your family to far, though, after a bit of negotiating, you and him moved in the middle of the Shaftlands and Sunset Savannah, so you weren't far from either families

🏹 This guy definitely planned on having a larger family, since his was larger than average, and when you finished having children, there was around four to five in total, like I said, he planned on having a larger family

🏹 They were like Sebek in a way, since they were all half-fae, he even visits your home with the rest of the old Diasomnia group to teach the children more about fae heritage, since Rook teaches them more human things than anything

🏹 He is definitely the let-loose parent, not caring what they did as long as it didn't put themselves or others in danger, he knows limits. Because of him being the fun parent, you're the stricter one, handing out punishments to your children, and sometimes husband, when necessary

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⚡ Sebek always held his fae-half to a higher regard than his human-half, and for some weird reason, that had upset you, one of the most prominent fae in Briar Valley

⚡ You knew a small amount about Sebek's family due to your grandfather and parents serving in the military with him by their sides, and they kept in contact even once the Fae vs Human war ended

⚡ When first meeting you, Sebek kept everything very platonic, showing no amount of romantic interest in anything, the closest he ever got to feeling beyond something more related to loyalty was when he defended and pledged his daily loyalty to Malleus

⚡ But one day, he had hit his curb. He was doubting himself because he hadn't gotten much better with his sword or magic, and that upset him because it reminded him that he was half-human, and it was stopping him, he was stopping him from impressing his grandfather

⚡ You had been walking by when you heard the soft tears and sniffs of the half-bred man, and when you appeared next to him and hugged him, he couldn't even put energy into telling you to leave him along, no energy was mustered to push you away either

⚡ After hearing how you loved his human side, despite many believing it made one weaker, he would become far gentler with you than he was with anyone else, even his own siblings

⚡ Sebek eventually pledged his loyalty and oath of love by one another until death a couple months after the first encounter, and when he heard you say yes and felt you kiss his human ears, he flushed the biggest amount of pink ever

⚡ When you met his family, you were far less nervous than him. He lived on acceptance from the people he cared about, especially his family

⚡ Needless to say, his parents and siblings adored you to oblivion, and when his grandfather spoke to you and smiled before giving you a small hug of trust, your boyfriend immediately knew, you were to be his one and only one

⚡ It took a while, but during graduation, Sebek popped the question of marriage and being together forever, which gained the attention of both his biological family, your family, and your shared Diasomnia family members

⚡ Sebek has planned his whole life out growing up, becoming a knight and serving Malleus until his death, but, he never expected to get married, nonetheless have any children

⚡ But, hearing that you were expecting, he lunged at you and cried the happiest tears you had ever seen, and when you guys finished, you had three children, one being a half-fae, and the others being full-blood

⚡ Unlike the past, Sebek always told his half-fae that they should embrace their humanity, as it was far more of a strength than they believed it to be

⚡ He's by far the strict parent, the one that dishes out punishments and scoldings when necessary, and you were the chiller one, the one they would go to speak about for advice on relationships, not that they didn't want to speak to their dad about that, you were just, less blunt to put it at best...

[nytehavyn-circle]

My previous post set me on the course for this one:

There's one major thing I love about the TV show 'Castle.' One dynamic that is rarely seen in TV shows/movies of today...

Castle's family gets along.

They love each other. They aren't afraid to say it or show it.

Alexis gets along with her father, and he gets along with her. There's none of that stupid 'teenage angst' that's seen in almost every tv show. Alexis doesn't walk around saying 'You just wouldn't understand!' to Castle, she isn't unnecessarily mean to him, she doesn't ignore him, she doesn't roll her eyes at him, and she doesn't start fights with him. And she's never accused him on not loving her. She has never questioned her father, Richard Castle's, love for her. Because she knows she's loved. She gets along with Martha, her grandmother. They talk, they 'scheme,' they enjoy each other's company. They rarely fight or argue - they talk to one another. And Alexis listens to her father - for the most part. She knows what she can actually get away with and what she can't. She knows when she can't push the envelope. And when she screws up, she knows she did.

Castle loves his daughter and his mother. And they get along. Yes, granted, there's a little friction between Martha and Castle, but that's usually only because of Martha's tendency to be a little extra. But Castle still loves her, and she still loves him. They don't always say it, but it can be seen in action and deed, if not always words. They rarely fight - they argue a lot, but, once again, that's due to Martha's ability to be a little 'extra.' And, once again, Castle and his mother, Martha, talk. When it comes to Alexis, Castle tries to be a friend, but he's not afraid to be a father. The reason he rarely punishes Alexis is because he raised Alexis so well, that she doesn't often screw up. But Castle does call her out for it when she does. And she does the same to him - especially when he oversteps, even as a parent. But he allows her to set her own boundaries for herself, while still obeying him.

The Caste/Rodgers family loves each other. They don't often fight or argue, they don't yell and scream at one another, they don't name-call. They talk, they get along. They call each other out on their bullshit without getting mean. They are the antithesis to the redundant, typical TV family we're usually presented with.

I will ALWAYS love the Castle/Rodgers family dynamic because it's such a breath of fresh air from 'regular' TV families. Even during my rewatches of the show, I find myself enjoying watching the family interact, because of how they interact.

Does the family have problems? Of course they do, they're a family. But instead of losing their shit with each other, they talk through those problems.

And that's the key - they talk.

[creedslove]

MEANT TO BE ❤️‍🔥

No outbreak!Joel Miller x f!reader

Summary: You and Joel seemed you were meant to be, but he broke your heart thinking he was doing you a favor. You're back in town and Tommy ends up inviting you to his brother's birthday party

(I don't know if this will be a series or not, but enjoy it ❤️)

Warnings: screwed up timeline (no outbreak but the story takes place nowadays, Joel's in his mid/late forties, Sarah is in her late teens/early twenties), age gap (reader is in her mid/late 20s because well, she's me), angst, hurt, breakups, broken hearts, two idiots in love, fluff

A/N: I don't know besties, this is just a very specific scenario that got stuck with me for DAYS because all I do is daydream I'm Joel's housewife and well, I had to write it down eventually because just imagining it wasn't enough I had to share. Also, this is extremely self-inserted so I'm sorry if you guys don't like it but I deserve to be happy with Joel 😭

3.2k words

"So, you're breaking up with me Joel? Is that it?" You asked him, pacing the living room, trying to hold back your tears and not let the anxiety get the best of you just yet, and instead, look at the situation with a rational attitude. Joel couldn't possibly be breaking up with you, not after the time you spent together, - a short one, you had to admit, but it was enough to see you two were meant to be together. Everyone seemed to agree. His brother was nothing but nice and sweet to you, sometimes even protective of you, as if you were his sibling and not Joel, his daughter was thrilled to see her dad in a relationship after a lifetime of loneliness, even if you didn't see each other very often, only when Sarah was home from her school breaks, always making Joel the proudest dad to see her impeccable grades, a clear reflection of the scholarship she got, she was always so friendly, treating well the woman his dad loved, because she knew he deserved to be happy.

And your family? They really liked Joel too. Your parents admired him for being so hardworking and successful in his business, the way he managed to raise a daughter by himself and your grandmother simply loved Joel. She was a supporter of your relationship from the beginning, always telling you to ignore any mean comments you might get just because he was older than you or anything like that, she just loved to see how good Joel was to you, how happy he made you and what a gentleman he was whenever he visited your family, despite being nervous and blushing slightly like a young boy. And for that, your grandma always baked him cookies or cakes, just a small, sweet way to thank him for being so good to you.

So it came as a shock, when he broke up with you.

"Yes, Y/N I'm breaking up with you" he said simply and looked down, his heart clenched and he felt so upset to be letting you go, but he knew he had to, you had been offered a great job, a great opportunity, high salary and you couldn't just stay with him, living a small town housewife life, you had so much potential, you were so pretty and full of life, Joel didn't want to trap you there, you deserved better than that, you deserved to be successful and free, and not with an old guy like him, Joel didn't have the same education you did and he felt bad about it, he would never want to embarrass you because of it.

"You and I are never gonna work, we had our fun, it was nice, but you want to live your life and I've already loved through all that. I've been married and I'm not marrying you, Y/N. You want kids and I don't want any more kids, we're incompatible, can't you see that?" He said "just take your job and go live your life, think of us as an adventure and nothing else…"

You swallowed and took one step forward, grabbing his shirt and making him look at you "w-was I just an adventure to you?" You needed to know the truth, it didn't feel like just an adventure to you at least, it felt like true love, intense and real. You thought Joel was the real deal, you thought that maybe you found each other and you would stay together, of course the opportunity you received was good, but you were ready to give it all up. You'd never thought of your life together as something bad, you liked the simple, you liked the calm quiet evenings with Joel, you liked waiting for him with dinner ready after a long day of work, and all that because you loved Joel and up until then you assumed he loved you too. He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, his hand running through his hair as he sighed

"Yes, you were an adventure, you were a hot young girl giving me your attention and your body, I enjoyed it a lot at first, but now it's just getting old" he sighed, hating himself for breaking your heart, but he also knew that was the only way you would leave him behind and start living your life. He was lying, he would marry you, he had actually already bought a ring, a very simple one though, he wished he could buy you something better, but he had gone with the cheapest option and now he felt ashamed of it.

"Just… don't make this too hard on the two of us, leave and take the job, you will be happier that way" Joel turned his back at you and waited until he heard you slamming the door. He sighed and tried blinking back his tears, he hated to seem weak and vulnerable around whoever it was.

•••

Eight months had passed ever since you broke up with Joel, or rather Joel broke up with you. Eight months you'd left Austin behind and moved to a bigger city, got into a better-paid job and made more money. Eight months you were earning well but you were feeling miserable, because you were away from your family, your friends and the man you loved, even if he didn't love you back, even if you were nothing but an adventure to him, you still missed him everyday.

It wasn't just the sex - although that party took a heavy toll on you, as it was so intense, good and hot. You had never been fucked properly until Joel Miller fucked you, that was for sure. But you missed the everyday with him. The domesticity with him, the evenings spent together, the lazy weekends you would stay in his bed, just cuddling, sleeping, fucking and doing it all over again. You missed how his big, rough hands would hold you at night, how you would snuggle closer looking for his warmth, or how you'd play with his hair as Joel rested his head on your lap whenever he watched some cheesy action movie.

Yes, the money was good, you couldn't deny it was good being able to pay for your expenses and also save money and also spoil yourself to clothes, shoes, restaurants and anything else really, that part was great, but you would be lying if you said you wouldn't trade that for a happy life with Joel in a heartbeat; you hated to be still in love with him, he didn't deserve your love, you knew that. He had treated you just like an adventure, like an ordinary affair he could enjoy as he pleased and then discard you once he got tired of it. Still, it puzzled you how genuine he seemed, how caring and lovely he was towards you, how he actually made you believe he loved you. You felt cheated, tricked, and embarrassed to think you were so easy to fool like Joel had done to you.

One of the perks of your job, was able to take a few short trips to your hometown every couple of months, it was good to revisit your family, especially after your grandmother fell ill and you felt the need to see her as much as you could, but with those trips back to town always brought your fear of encountering Joel.

You didn't know how you'd react to seeing him again, maybe you would feel emotional? Or sad? Would your heart still beat fast? Probably a mix of those all.

You shook your head wanting to push those thoughts aside and got ready to enter the clothes store downtown when you heard someone calling your name. You knew that voice, but thought maybe you were just confused, but still, you turned around and saw as a smiley Tommy Miller walked towards you

"Y/N hey… you look great! Nice seeing you?" He was definitely the friendly brother.

"Hey Tommy, I missed you. How've you been?"

"Good.." he placed his hand on his hips - very similar to his brother - and the two of you made some small talk, catching up on things as you hadn't seen each other in nearly a year. "So listen… it's Joel's birthday today, I don't know if you remember" you nodded with a sad smile "and well, I'm throwing him a party tonight, maybe you should show up, I know he was a dick to you, but I'm sure he didn't mean it, he misses you a lot" you bit your lips and shrugged softly, and Tommy didn't need to say anything else. He just hugged you goodbye and told you again how nice it was to see you.

•••

"You did what?" Joel asked with annoyance and shock as his brother stood in his kitchen, a bottle of beer in hand as he placed the plastic bag with a few things for Joel's party that night. Tommy blew the air out of his mouth and scratched the back of his neck "what? You like her, I mean, no, you love her, Joel, so I thought you'd appreciate it if she showed up, it would be like a nice present to you after all" he shrugged simply as it made perfect sense in his mind. Joel, on the other hand, couldn't believe how stupid his brother was. How could he simply invite you as if nothing had gone on between the two of you.

"First you simply plan a party without even asking me, inviting a bunch of people I don't even know-"

"Because you have no friends…" Tommy interrupted and it made Joel's blood boil, he gritted his teeth and took a deep breath

"What I am saying is that I didn't want a party and now I will have to face a party I didn't want and possibly with the presence of a girl whose heart I broke and-"

"You broke her heart because you are a moron" Tommy shrugged again and folded his arms "you are a real big fat moron who can't see shit even if it's hanging in front of you! You love her and she loves you, and don't give me that pathetic talk about you not wanting to trap her because I know you bought her a fucking ring, Joel! A ring! And if you had proposed she'd be here, either planning the things for your wedding or you'd be already married, and don't start with the shitty baby talk either because you practically drool when you see her holding a kid, I'm sure if she asked you'd be on your second Miller kid right now!" Tommy told his brother, running out of patience at how stubborn his older brother was "so yeah, I invited Y/N and I doubt she'll come because you are a dick and you don't deserve her attention, in fact you don't even deserve this party, I was just trying to do something nice for you, so I'm sorry I'm such a terrible brother" Tommy groaned and went upstairs.

Joel didn't want to admit it, but he did spend the whole day checking his phone every five minutes to see if he'd get any messages from you. Joel was a man to receive and give phone calls, he didn't like texting, but most people insisted on doing that so he had to surrender, even his daughter would rather text than call, which Joel hated but he had to do it eventually. On your birthday, Joel spent the whole day battling if he should text you or not, on one hand he didn't want to simply pretend he had forgotten about your special day; on the other hand he didn't want to make things weird between the two of you, well, more like, more weird. What was he supposed to say?

"Hey babe, happy birthday 🎈 I know I said you were just an adventure but I miss you"

No, that'd be too awkward, so eventually he went to bed that day and ended up not texting you.

Another thing Joel didn't also want to admit was how he had showered, applied some cologne and put on the flannel shirt you always told him looked good in him before the party started. Fortunately, his argument with Tommy didn't change any of his plans and in the evening people started to arrive. Joel smiled politely, made some small talk, thanked people for the gifts but he kept glancing at the door frequently, always in hopes to see you walking in. He felt so stupid for even expecting that, so he tried focusing on his party. He saw the girls his brother had invited but didn't care about any of them; they all chatted and giggled and Joel watched it from afar as if he were an outsider at his own birthday party. Joel grabbed a beer and walked outside, sitting by the front steps and watched as the hours passed by and people eventually began leaving the party. He just enjoyed his own presence, knowing you wouldn't come, clearly you'd never come again and he had to face that, at the same time he silently thought of what his life had been like and what was left for him to do in the future, when a voice snapped him out of his thoughts.

"Joel?" You called him, hesitantly at first, as you swallowed and looked around, it was kind of crazy to show up at your ex's birthday party after he dumped you in a cruel way like he did, but you also felt like you had to do it, ever since Tommy had invited you, something in your heart begged and screamed for you to go see Joel even if it was the last time.

When he saw you, his eyes widened, he didn't trust them at first thinking it was just a trick of his longing imagination, but as you walked towards him, he could see you were real. And you looked gorgeous, making that fool old man's heart beat fast.

"Darlin'..." He said but you placed your index finger gently against his lips, the way his beard tickled you brought a warmth within and you felt like you could melt at that moment.

"I'm here just to wish you a happy birthday" you said with a sad smile and handed him a bag. Joel frowned softly, clueless to what it was but a soft smile appeared on his face as he saw it was his watch. He had forgotten about it as it had been so long since the last time he saw it.

"Remember your watch stopped working after we jumped in the pool on the last fourth of July we spent together? I had it fixed but then we bro-" you interrupted yourself "anyway, I know it's been a while but it's yours"

"Thank you darlin' I don't even know what to say… it's already a gift you're here tonight" Joel could swear he was blushing and that embarrassed him, he was a grown man and shouldn't be acting like that, but still, there he was.

"Did you get the cake?" You questioned him curiously and only then Joel noticed you had a second bag in hands

"I forgot" he rubbed the back of his neck and you laughed softly, that was just so Joel it felt kind of stupid.

"So this is yours too…" you offered him the second to which he grabbed it even more puzzled. Two presents? Joel Miller was a simple man, and quite shy, he didn't know how to act properly when he was given gifts, let alone two in a row and especially when it came from you.

It was his turn to laugh when he found a box with cupcakes inside. He raised his eyes from them and smiled at you, taking you by the hand with no warning and sitting you next to him, on the front step.

He helped himself to one and insisted for you to take another, and even if you should have just wished him a happy birthday and driven back home, you obliged and took a small bite of yours, and that cupcake was indeed really good.

After the cupcakes were long gone, you and Joel still caught up on everything: he told you about his job and you told him about yours; you asked him about Sarah and he asked you about your grandmother's health, just random, ordinary things like it should be between two people who once knew everything about each other and now spent long enough apart to step on eggshells around each other. Though the party had pretty much ended, Tommy's playlist was still at full steam inside the house and when Joel recognized that guitar strumming he smiled, the lyrics coming back to him as it took him back to one of his favorite moments with you.

"Listen, it's our song"

"What?" You frowned softly "our song? What do you mean?" You questioned curiously not exactly knowing where he wanted to get.

"Californication, it's our song" he blushed softly and felt upset to see that maybe you didn't remember the summer night you spent listening to music sitting in the back of his truck, and how you two sang it together. Maybe that wasn't as special to you as it was to him, but at that night he'd felt so young, so full of life and hope. You finally nodded and closed your eyes, listening to it and thinking of the same sweet memory you and Joel shared.

"I just didn't know it was our song, Joel" you said amused and he shrugged, getting to his favorite part of the song and taking your hand in his, your eyes locked as his lips moved

"Marry me girl, be my fairy to the world, be my very own constellation"

He sang along, even if it wasn't a romantic song, that part was for you, it had always been for you. When he saw you sing that specific part of the song for the first time he knew he wanted to marry you, he wanted you to be his fairy to his world and be his very own constellation. It was cheesy, but he didn't care, he was just in love at the time, and he continued so.

You blushed and looked down, knowing it was time to go, but before you could get up, he squeezed your hand gently

"Do you want to get inside?" His eyes were full of hope, maybe and just maybe you could say yes and you could maybe pick up from where you left off but you shook your head "I'm sorry, I have to go Joel" you got up and ignored his sad eyes, even if they were your weakness, you two were finished and there was nothing you could do about it.

"Joel?" You called one last time and he got up, walking to you, still hopeful you'd give him any crumble of affection.

"Yeah?" His voice was a soft purr, the anticipation burning bright inside of him

"Happy birthday" you said and went to your car, leaving him standing there, his mind full of might-have-beens and his heart breaking as it did every time you walked away from him.

_____

A/N: don't yell at me besties, i've had this idea of joel being sure he would want to marry reader (me/us) while listening to this part of the song and Californication is a very delicate subject as I sang this song in a karaoke session at the mall yesterday in front of hundreds of people and I was so nervous at first but then I relaxed and had such a great time and it was amazing 😭 I know it's not a romantic song but I want those lyrics to be about joel and his beautiful wife 😭 I hope you've liked it besties ❤️

[changingplumbob]

Nancy: Yoohoo! Oh you are home, how extraordinary. Come give me a hug

Malcolm: Mum, Johnny said you called him. Imagine my surprise when instead of apologising for screwing up his life you actually asked him if we were looking after Byron properly

Nancy: Can a grandmother not be concerned

Malcolm: You’re never just concerned. But here. A house key. This way you can check whenever and you’ll see we’re doing nothing wrong, and not spending our time drunk

Nancy: Malcolm honey, I’m just looking out for you. I know what’s best

Malcolm: The best thing for Byron is to be with parents that love him. I’m getting good grades, you can’t say he’s damaging my life

Nancy: I wouldn’t dream of saying such a thing

[sammysficfactory]

Check That

eren yeager x black!femreader

summary: sometimes when family crosses boundaries, you have to remind them of their place. my excuse to write thanksgiving clapbacks

wc: ~0.5k

tags: fluff, comedy

warnings: mentions of food

notes: happy thanksgiving if you celebrate!, school is whooping me sorry i haven’t been posting often😭, beta read, inspired by those tiktoks, mostly centered around the reader, i feel like i’m just yapping in this👎🏾, feedback is welcome

Every year. You don’t even know why you come to your grandmother’s house every thanksgiving just to deal with your hypocritical family. You wish you would’ve just gone over Eren’s family’s house instead. Your leg bounces and Eren rubs your knee comfortingly.

“Y/N, why do you sneak off on us every other holiday? We are your family, you shouldn’t avoid us like that.” An aunt not-so-secretly judges you, her southern drawl making it all the more demeaning, but this year you came prepared.

“The same reason the repo man snuck off with that busted Nissan of yours.” You reply nonchalantly, causing your boyfriend to choke on his greens before covering it up by taking a sip of his water. Quiet snickers are heard across the large rectangular table as you continue to eat.

“Still ain’t got the car back yet either.” Your mother says under her breath, but loud enough for you and Eren to hear. You smirk, trying to keep yourself from laughing. You appreciate the fact that your parents have always had your back when you needed it.

That seemed to be enough to keep your aunt quiet for a good while. You bask in the warmhearted laughs and conversation now that your shady aunt has nothing more to say. The comfort of family is beginning to melt all the stress of your daily life away. That is until your aunt Jackie’s daughter Destiny decides to chime in on the topic of marriage. She’s been giving Eren bedroom eyes the entire evening.

“So cuz, this is the first time you brought Eren over for a family dinner. Are y’all a serious thing?” She twirls her fork in the spaghetti on her plate, making doe eyes at Eren that causes him to screw his face up slightly.

“Eren and I are just as serious as your fraud charges. Thank you for your concern, can you pass the yams?” You reply, rolling your eyes and feeling annoyed all over again. Your knee bounces a bit more intensely and just like always, Eren is right there to soothe you. He rubs your knee and places a kiss on your cheek for good measure. You exhale heavily, doing your best to keep yourself in check.

A few hours later with no further incidents, you and Eren say your goodbyes and leave out the door. You get in the passenger seat and let out a heavy and exhausted sigh. Eren turns your head towards him gently, just two fingers on your jaw and chin. He places a long, soft, and loving kiss on your lips.

“You did good today, I thought we were gonna have to get it poppin’ on thanksgiving.” He jokes, resulting in a chuckle coming from you. His eyes seem to glow a little when he sees you smile, a satisfied look on his face.

“There she is, there’s my lady.” He almost coos at you, his voice is just as soothing and warm as the smile on his face before he brings you in for another kiss. The two of you pull away slowly, taking some time just to stare at each other and decompress together.

The two of you make it home with plastic bags of takeaway containers in tow, setting them on the table before separating them into what the two of you would eat on your own, and what you would share. Ultimately stuffed, you and Eren lay on the couch tangled in each other’s limbs watching Charlie Brown movies.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

The Stranger 7

Warnings: non/dubcon, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Characters: Destroyer!Chris

Summary: A stranger buys the farmstead nearby and disturbs your sleepy village life.

Part of the Backwoods AU

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

You don’t really have to ask. Chris stays for dinner. It’s just another way for him to taunt you. That’s what he’s doing, isn’t it? And why? Because you ran away? Because you didn’t want to sit with him at the cafe? You’re shy, that’s all it is. It was never meant to be an insult.

You offer to cook dinner as your grandmother stays out on the porch and swings. You can hear them talking but try to block out their words. You want this night to be over but you know even then, it’s not the end. You can’t believe she would just send you off with him on a date. A stranger!

You put the chicken in the oven and peel potatoes to boil. You hear the front door and footsteps but they climb the stairs instead of coming to you. Maybe he’s looking for the bathroom. You hear the swing squeaking as your grandmother sways, the frame knocking against the house now and again.

You rinse off the skinned potatoes and set them aside, drying off your hands as you peer at the ceiling. You haven’t heard the pipes at all. You put the dishcloth lazily on the counter and tiptoe out to the bottom of the stairs. What is he doing?

You turn away but halt. You face the staircase again and cautiously climb. The bathroom door is wide open and dark. Beside it, your bedroom door is lit up and half-shut. You creep down and as you near, you see Chris standing at the open drawer of your dresser. You place your palm against the wood and inch open the door.

“What are you doing?” You ask but he doesn’t flinch as he carelessly tosses your underwear drawer. “Hey, that’s private–”

He takes out your journal and as you lunge to grab it, he raises it beyond your reach. You collide with him as he faces you and he chuckles. Why is he being so mean?

“Please,” you beg, “don’t–”

“Relax,” he says, “I’m not gonna read it.” He lowers it and taps the flimsy metal lock, “I just wanna get to know you and since you don’t like to talk so much…” he offers the diary and you snatch it away, “I gotta go off clues…”

“I’m sorry, I’m just… shy,” you shrug. “Really, I never meant to make you so mad–”

“I’m not mad,” he turns back to the drawer and pulls out a pair of your plain white cotton panties, “hmm,” he stretches the elastic, “you don’t needa bother with these on our date.” He drops them back into the pile, “doesn’t look like you got anything sexier.”

You blink. Sexier?

“Please,” you sniffle again.

“You got your manners on nice now, don’t you?” he scoffs and slides the drawer shut.

“I never–”

He holds up a finger to hush you. You snap your mouth shut as he turns to the room and crosses his arms. He tilts his head as he takes it in.

“I’m doing you a favour,” he strides forward, approaching the portrait of Bo Peep and her lamb on the wall; the same picture that’s hung there for decades, “it’s about time you grew up.”

You look down shamefully. It’s not like you don’t try. You do. But when you go out and do anything you just trip up on your words and make a fool of yourself. Just like you did with him. You’re just a screw up. Maybe if he realised that, he’d leave you alone.

“I gotta finish dinner,” you back up slowly as you watch him touch the foot of the bed, leaning his weight into the mattress.

“Good girl,” he praises without looking up, dragging his palm over the quilt.

You shudder and swallow, spinning before you lose your nerve. You hurry out, hugging your diary close, and clatter down the stairs. You tuck your diary under the sink and go back to the strainer of potatoes. It’s all your fault. You led the big bad wolf right to your door.

🍎

Dinner goes about as well as you expect. You don’t say much as Chris and your grandma carry much of the conversation; most of it about you. She tells him you never had very many friends as you shrink down and he grins at you. There’s a glint in his dark pupils that sends a shiver through you.

To your relief, he excuses himself after supper and heads off to get his truck from town. Right before your grandma can dive into the story about the Spring Festival and your disastrous teenage folly. He doesn’t part without a promise glance in your direction and a reminder of your date.

You clean up as your grandmother yammers on about it all. He’s such a wonderful man. So good looking. Lynette won’t believe this. Oh, Molly might have five already but you might just be next. That last suggestion makes you want to vomit.

“I’m gonna go to bed,” you extract yourself.

She agrees only because her own exhaustion tugs at her eyes and forces a yawn from her chest. You help her upstairs and ask her if she needs anything else. She swats you away as she digs in her nightstand for her pillbox.

“You know, a man like that could really help,” she says as you reach the doorway, “he must have a nice nest egg if he’s bought the old Clyde lot.”

You hold back your remonstrance. A pang of guilt jabs in your chest. You can’t blame her for thinking it. You need money and her social security should be stretched so thin. She earned it, not you.

“I’ll go to the pharmacy tomorrow,” you say as her pill bottle rattles, “I forgot.”

“Oh yes, the pharmacy,” she titters, “say hello to Chris for me, won’t ya, hon.”

You nod and leave her, pulling her door just an inch from the frame. You tramp down the hall to your room and sigh as you enter. You won’t just be going to the pharmacy, you’ll be looking for a job. Again. Who knows, maybe there’ll be an opening at the grocery store? Or you can check the pinboard outside the church.

You sit on the side of your bed and nearly choke. You can smell him rippling off of your bedding, the faint scent of cedar and sweat. Even if you do find something, it won’t get rid of him.

[tropes-and-tales-archives]

Sonny Carisi: Second Chances, Part Four

WC: 6725

TW: Idiots in love; smut (PiV, protected); 18+ only.

AN: This is part of a mini-series. The rest can be found here.

You didn’t sleep with Sonny that night.  You definitely wanted to, but something made you slow down.  Maybe it was his admission that he didn’t feel like he deserved to be happy.  Maybe it was how he see-sawed between eagerness and hesitation.  He seemed to want to be with you, and he seemed to expect you to hurt him.  You wanted to make sure that when you finally slept together, he knew it was because you wanted him – not because he was some convenient rebound.

So instead of sleeping with him that night, you cuddled up against him on your couch and just talked.  And you got to the bottom of some of Sonny’s hesitation – he had a lengthy history of terrible first dates. 

Once he got started talking, it was hard to stop him.  There was a date in the eighth grade at an arcade where the girl he came with left with another boy.  There was a Yankee game in high school where the girl ghosted him after the fourth inning.  There was the date in college when Sonny, trying to act like a grown-up, took a girl to a jazz club.  The date was going well, he told you, until the woman let slip that she only was on a date with him to make her real boyfriend jealous.

“And then I screwed up our first date,” he said.  He sounded so sad that you couldn’t help but press a kiss to his mouth before you pulled away.

“You didn’t screw it up,” you admonished him.  “Besides, you ended up with a second date, so that doesn’t seem like a failure to me.”

He turned and gave you a look that reminded you of a dog in an animal shelter commercial, giant blue eyes and a pout.  “But will I get a third date?”

You laughed at him.  “Definitely.”

You sent him home shortly thereafter (with the leftover lasagna, after he tap-danced around asking for an extra piece to take home), and then you sat up for a while, thinking.  Sonny was so selfless and sweet, and he seemed to never have much nice done for him in return.  You decided to plan the third date that you promised him.

********

All you had told Sonny was to dress casually.  “Not date-casual,” you told him.  “I’m talking jeans, a t-shirt, sneakers.”  He started to protest, but you cut him off.  “If you aren’t dressed like a boy in middle school, I’m going to call your grandmother and tell her that you were seducing me with breakfast strudels instead of cannoli.”

On Friday night, Sonny found himself waiting in his apartment, dressed in the nicest jeans he had, the cleanest sneakers he had, and a plain t-shirt that he hoped made him look like an adult instead of like a boy.  He had to do his hair twice – his usual gel-and-style did not match his attire at all, so he rinsed out all the product and left it more natural.

There was a knock on his door promptly at seven, and he opened the door to you.  You were in jeans and canvas sneakers too, and a Backstreet Boys tour t-shirt.  Your face was bare of makeup (that he could see), and your hair was pulled up into a high ponytail.  You looked almost criminally young, especially when paired with the toothy grin you had plastered across your face.

“C’mon,” you said.  You grabbed his hand and tugged him into the hallway towards the stairs.  “Our ride is waiting.”

But instead of a taxi standing on the curb, there was a beat-to-hell minivan with a bemused looking older woman in the driver’s seat.  You climbed into the middle seat, though, so Sonny followed suit, even though he was completely baffled. 

You were silent for the ride, so Sonny held his tongue, and in short order you were dropped at a corner in the Lower East Side.  The driver leaned across the passenger’s seat to call out to you, “I’ll pick you up here at eleven,” before she drove off.

“Doll, I have no idea what’s going on,” Sonny said. 

You smiled and took his hand again.  You tugged him down the street towards some unknown destination.  “It’s a re-do,” you explained.  “Your first date with a girl in the eighth grade at the arcade.”

Sonny faltered in his steps, and you stopped beside him.  “What do you mean?” he asked.

You bit your lip and thought for a moment.  “Well, you brought me breakfast every day and let me believe it was Nick,” you explained.  “You were giving me happy memories.  I thought maybe I could do the same thing.  You had bad first dates, so I thought we could re-do them.  I wanted to give you a happy memory.”

Sonny felt an unexpected sting of tears in his eyes that he covered up by looking down the street.  He cleared his throat.  “So eighth grade…”

“Eighth grade,” you agreed.  You gestured down your front.  “Hence the Backstreet Boys.  And our driver was my neighbor.  She has a mini-van, and I paid her fifty bucks to drop us off and pick us up.”  You grinned at him.  “Because we are thirteen and don’t have driver’s licenses.”

The tears threatened again, and Sonny didn’t bother to hide them.  He thought back to his first date, and it felt both a million years ago and just yesterday.  He remembered being so excited to go out with a girl – Leah – and he remembered feeling so adult to plan out an evening together. 

He also remembered the humiliation when Leah left with another classmate, and the mortification when his mother picked him up later, alone. 

“Doll, this is too much,” he protested weakly, but you shook your head at him.

“It’s exactly what you deserve.”  You started walking, pulling on his hand, and he followed.  “Cheap pizza and video games,” you added with a laugh.

Dinner was cheap pizza at a little pizzeria.  You both used a ton of napkins to mop up the grease that pooled on the slices, and you skipped the special on a PBR pitcher and stuck with soft drinks (“because we’re underaged” you whispered to Sonny).  Getting into the spirit of it, Sonny ordered a Mountain Dew, remembering how he was fueled by it back in middle school.

After that, you walked him across the street to a retro arcade where you paid for two all-access passes that got you unlimited plays.  Sonny immediately made a beeline to Street Fighter II, and you watched him bemusedly until you found a console of Burger Time in the corner that you camped out at for a while.

Then the two of you played Gauntlet together, you shoving him lightly when he accidentally shot your with arrows.  The night flew by, and before he knew it, you were glancing at your watch and telling him that “your mom” would be on her way.  You both left the arcade and started walking towards the pickup point.

“Did you have fun?” you asked him, and Sonny could only throw an arm around your waist and try to tug you to him for a kiss.  Which you dodged  in mock-horror.

“Whoa,” you said, taking a dancing step away from him.  “Were you that forward when you were thirteen, Sonny?”

He laughed at this.  “Seriously?”

You batted your eyes at him.  “I have a crush on Keanu Reeves, and I’m probably going to marry him when I’m older, but if you ask nice, I’ll let you kiss me.”

“Please may I kiss you?” Sonny said immediately, and you pretended to think about it before nodding. 

He stepped up to you and put his hands on your shoulders, then dipped his head and captured your mouth with his.  He could feel your lips curving into a smile against his mouth, so he pulled away. 

“What?” he asked, but you shook your head sadly.

“Sonny, I was thirteen once, and I kissed a thirteen year old boy once.  It did not go like that at all.”

Sonny pulled you back to him, dipped his head again, and as soon as his lips touched yours, he plunged his tongue straight into your mouth with zero finesse and skill.  You pulled away, laughing so hard that Sonny couldn’t help but chuckle too.

“You taste like Mountain Dew,” you said between peals of laughter.  “But that felt about right.”

Your neighbor picked you both up a minute later, and when the mini-van stopped at Sonny’s place, you stayed in the vehicle. 

“I’d come up with you,” you said apologetically.  “But I have an algebra test tomorrow.”

He could only wave goodbye as the automatic door slid shut, but when he went into his building, he took the steps to the second floor two at a time with a lightness in his steps.

-----

You planned the next date too, and Sonny found himself at Yankee Stadium on a Saturday afternoon as they faced off against the Orioles.  You looked like the girl next door again, in short jean shorts and those canvas sneakers.  Your t-shirt looked like a Yankees shirt, but when he looked closer, it just said “Local Sports Team” on it, making him smile.

You took the B train to the stadium and settled into a pair of nosebleed seats.  You shrugged at Sonny and explained that you didn’t have a lot of money to spend from your baby-sitting job, but you had enough for a few hot dogs and sodas. 

Sonny placed an arm over the back of your seat, and you obviously felt that was high-school appropriate because you didn’t fight him on it.  It was hot and humid, but a nice breeze came through often enough to keep it from being miserable.  And Sonny thought he’d go through any weather to spend time with you.

No woman had ever been so thoughtful with him, and it made him feel pleasantly pleased at the attention.  It made him feel seen.

At the start of the fourth inning though, you stood up and left your seat, promising to come back, but you were gone the entire inning, and Sonny remembered the original date.  Another humiliation, another moment where he felt like he wasn’t enough.  He started to wallow, but you reappeared just then.  You had a giant soft pretzel, almost as big as your head.

“Sorry I was gone so long.  The line was insane,” you said.  “Want to split this?”

After the game, you took the subway and then walked back to your place, and Sonny tried to think about what he would have done in high school.  Raised Catholic, he probably wouldn’t have had sex even if the option had been there – he was still too guilty and felt like a disapproving god was watching him from above.  Hell, he couldn’t even masturbate back then (or now, really), without feeling a flush of shame wash over him.

The two of you ended up on your couch, doing what his childhood priest would sternly call “heavy petting.”  You were stretched out underneath him, one of your legs hanging off the edge of the couch, while you made out feverishly.  Sonny’s hands roamed over your form, but he had to keep it over your clothes because you smacked him every time he tried to sneak his fingers under a hem.  You kept your own hands on his biceps or shoulders, letting them drift between the two locations on his sweat-dampened t-shirt.

He felt like a teenager again, and he rolled his hips against you in a languid motion to relieve some of the tension below the belt.  You seemed to enjoy it too, judging from the soft moans that you let slip every so often.  Sonny chuckled against you.  You pulled back a bit.

“What’s so funny?” you asked, and he laughed again.

“I just never thought that I’d be dry humping a girl at my age,” he replied.

You made a face.  “I hate that term,” you informed him.  “It sounds like something a dog would do to a couch cushion.  Call it ‘outercourse,’ please.”

“I never thought I’d be outercoursing a girl at my age,” he amended, and then he leaned back down to kiss you more, sliding his tongue into your mouth.

You shifted underneath him just a bit, and when Sonny felt that nearly unbearable tension again and resumed rolling his hips against you, you moaned louder.  You were perfectly placed under him, and if you were both naked, he’d be inside you – the thought alone made him feel dizzy.  He knew that you were holding off sleeping with him for some reason or another.  He didn’t press the issue, and you didn’t elaborate your reason to him.  He worried that you were still hung up on Nick, but if that were the case, why were you going to such effort for him?

But he realized with a start that you were starting to press back against his gentle thrusts, and even with the layers of clothing between you, he might be able to make you come just from the pressure and friction alone.  The thought made him even harder, which he didn’t think was possible, so he rolled his hips harder and plunged his tongue into your mouth in time with his thrusts.

You turned your head to the side, breaking the kiss.  “Sonny,” you whined, and he wasn’t sure if you were telling him to stop or to keep going.

“Is this okay?” he asked against your neck.  He pressed a kiss to the side of your neck, darting his tongue out to taste the salt of your sweat. 

“Sonny,” you repeated.  One of your hands drifted from his shoulder across to his back, fisting his damp t-shirt in your fist.  “Would you have done this in high school?” you asked as you panted underneath him.

“With you?  Absolutely,” he replied.  He moved against you again, drawing another moan from you.  “Though I definitely wouldn’t have understood a girl having an orgasm when I was sixteen.”

You huffed out a breathless sort of laugh.  “We should stop then,” you said with a groan.  “Keep it authentic.”

Sonny kissed your neck again, sucking against your soft skin.  “We should keep going instead,” he murmured against you.  “Authentic would have been you dumping me at the game.”  He pulled back and looked down at you.  Your face was flushed from a day in the sun and from desire, and your lips were swollen from kissing.  You looked gorgeous, and Sonny felt that too-familiar twist of love in his chest.

You surged up and kissed him gently on his cheek, then laid a hand over the side of his face too.  “I didn’t have an orgasm until college, Sonny,” you said with a smile.  “I didn’t even know what ‘orgasm’ meant in high school.”

“I did,” he replied with a grin, and you laughed underneath him.

“And I thought you were the good Catholic boy,” you teased.  You put your hands on his shoulders and pushed him gently off of you until you were both sitting side by side, Sonny surreptitiously trying to hide his obvious erection.

“Well, I felt guilty about it, doll.  Nothing more Catholic than that.”

Sonny only stayed long enough to calm down, and then he ordered a car and left, but not before setting a date for your next get-together.

-----

Now that Sonny was onto the game you were playing with your dates, he just went ahead and told you the name of the jazz club that he went to in college in a vain attempt to impress his date.  He picked you up at your apartment, and you looked like a vision in a dark blue wrap dress and heels.  Your hair was down, but there was a silk flower tucked behind one ear.

The jazz club was pretty much the same, just a bit more dingy than he remembered.  You each ordered old-timey cocktails and sat beside each other in a dim corner.  Sonny laid his arm around your shoulders, and you cuddled up against him and placed a soft hand on his thigh. 

The jazz was awful, or at least, Sonny didn’t understand it as a musical genre.  There was no discernable melody that he could follow, and it sounded like when Bella was young and started piano lessons and would just bang the keys at random.  You felt the same way because two drinks in, you leaned against him and whispered in his ear.

“Want to get out of here?”

“You sure, doll?” he asked. 

You nodded and winced as the flautist hit a particularly piercing high note.  “This music could qualify as torture under the Geneva Convention, I think.”

You both ended up at his place, making out in a way that felt familiar now.  When Sonny tried to progress to another plane, however, you still smacked his hands away lightly.  And when he whined, needy, against you mouth, you grinned at him. 

“It’s college, Sonny.  I didn’t have sex until after college.”

Sonny was incredulous.  “Seriously?”

You nodded.  “I was terrified of sex, honestly.  I always wanted to, but I’d get cold feet at the last minute because I envisioned getting pregnant or some exotic STD.”  You shook your head.  “Our college’s health clinic usually assumed that whatever was ailing you was an STD.  I remember having strep throat once and getting a pamphlet about gonorrhea.”

Sonny wanted to ask about your first time:  when and where and, most importantly, which man convinced you that he was a safe bet when other men hadn’t been.  He was already jealous of this unknown guy, and he worried that it had been Nick.  It couldn’t have been, though.  Or could it?

You didn’t sense his roiling emotions though, and instead you just curled up against him and nodded off after a while.  You’d both had a few long weeks at SVU with mandatory overtime due to being understaffed, and Sonny felt his own eyes growing heavy.

“Doll, do you want to stay the night?” he asked softly, and you stirred against him.  “We don’t have to do anything other than sleep.”

You sat up.  Your face was creased from being pressed against his shirt, and Sonny couldn’t resist reaching out to run his finger down it.

“Would that be okay?” you asked.  “Or would it be too tempting?”

He pulled you against him and kissed your temple, breathing in the smell of your shampoo.  “You’re too tempting just walking around the bullpen in your work outfits,” he murmured.  “But I’ll behave.”

********

You were in the bullpen early a few morning after your jazz club date.  Fin and Rollins were off duty, and Liv was at 1PP for some bureaucratic meeting.  Sonny arrived about ten minutes after you, and he placed a coffee and pastry on your desk in front of you with a wink.

Dating Nick, if you could have even called it that, had felt like work a lot of the time.  The guys you dated before him were much the same:  tons of effort to read and manage their moods, constantly waiting and then rushing depending on what they needed.  Waiting around for them to need you, rushing to get there when they did.  You realized sadly that you probably had never had a healthy relationship before.

Nothing about dating Sonny felt like a chore, not even planning those dates.  And if they had felt like work, it would have been worth it to see his face light up.  You wondered if Sonny had ever been in a healthy relationship before. 

You hoped against hope that maybe you could be that for each other.

You sipped your coffee and tried not to wolf down the cherry strudel that was still so warm that the icing had been absorbed into the flaky pastry.  After you were done (and after you licked your fingers on the sly), you made your way over to Sonny’s desk and sat on the edge.

“Detective Carisi,” you said formally.  “Any plans this weekend?”

He leaned back in his chair and grinned at you, the corners of his blue eyes crinkling.  “Maybe,” he said.  “I’m kinda seeing this girl.”

“Ah.”  You nodded knowingly.  “Sonny mentioned that you were dating someone.  How’s it going?”

He played along, but his eyes were soft.  “It’s going really well,” he admitted, his voice a bit lower.  “How’s it going with Sonny?”

“Also really well.”

“Look at the two of us, doing really well.”

You smiled at him for a moment, enjoying the playful conversation.  “I was thinking.  If you’re free on Friday, would you like to re-do our first date?  Meet you at the same place, bring me another flower…”

Sonny knitted his eyebrows together.  “Seriously?”

You nodded.  “You’ve said at least twice that you screwed up that date, and even if I don’t agree with your definition of ‘screw up,’ I’m happy to do a do-over.  You wear the same outfit, I’ll wear the same dress.”  You turned and looked around the bullpen to make sure it was still empty except for the two of you.  “But maybe I’ll wear something different underneath,” you murmured and raised what you hoped was a suggestive eyebrow. 

Sonny groaned and scrubbed his hands over his face.  “Doll, I can’t handle anymore cold showers,” he said.  “You can’t say stuff like that to me at work.”

You stood up straight and shook a finger at him in pretend remonstration, but you loved how flushed he got at the merest hint of dirty talk.  “Pull yourself together, detective.  And meet me on Friday, same time and same place.”

-----

True to your word, you wore the same fit-and-flare dress, dressing it down with the same white Keds.  And underneath, a set of lingerie that walked the slender line between sweet and sexy, in rosy pink.  You’d never admit it to Sonny because it would only embarrass him, but it matched the color he turned when he blushed.

True to his word, he turned up in the same clothes, and you each ordered the same dishes and recreated to the best of your memories your conversation.  After you ate, Sonny led you outside, placing the same gentle hand on the middle of your back to lead you out.  And he asked if you wanted gelato.

Since you were fixing mistakes in Sonny’s dating past, you placed your gelato order and waited.  When he started to order pistachio, you placed a silencing hand on his arm and tried to stop him.

“Pistachio?” you asked in a teasing lilt.  “Who orders that flavor other than old people?”

“I like it,” he replied only a little defensive. 

“Sonny, I love you, but pistachio?” you asked again.  “Seriously?  There’s so many better options…”  You gestured at the menu board with its myriad of choices.

He made a strange face at you, and you worried that your teasing had hit a sore spot, but he turned after a beat and ordered mango instead.  The two of you went to the same park and sat on the swings while you ate in companionable silence, and instead of asking about Nick, Sonny just ate his gelato thoughtfully and didn’t say a word.

When you were both finished, he gave you the same line about walking him home, and you threaded your arm through his and walked the few blocks to his place.  When you saw the bakery, you simply said that their pastries were amazing and thanked him again for bringing them to you nearly every morning.

And instead of asking him to drive you home, you asked him to take you to his home.  And he did.

Once you were inside his apartment, he suddenly seemed nervous, fidgeting with his keys before he sat them down on a small table in his entryway.  Then he ran his hands through his hair, over and over in a motion that looked nearly obsessive.

You reached out and took his hands in yours, stilling them.  “Hey,” you said softly.  “We don’t have to do anything.”

He gazed at you with his bright blue eyes before responding.  “Did you mean it?”

“Mean what?”

He coughed a bit and his ears turned pink, and you smirked a bit to see it.  “What you said at the gelato shop,” he clarified.  “Did you mean it?”

You furrowed your eyebrows.  “Well, pistachio was my grandpa’s favorite flavor…”

He cut you off with an impatient grumble in his throat.  “No, the other thing you said.”

You thought back, trying to remember what you’d said.  Then it hit you.  “I said I love you.”  You looked at him, saw the hope and the dread written plainly across his face in equal measure.  “Oh, Sonny…”

“It’s okay if you don’t mean it,” he rushed in.  “I mean…”

You rocked up onto your sneakered toes and kissed him, cutting off his words.  When you pulled away, you smiled up at him.  “I think I’ll just have to be prepared to kiss you every time I think you’re about to say something you’ll regret.”  Then the smile slipped off your face and you turned serious. 

You reached up with both hands and placed them on either side of his face so that he couldn’t turn away from you.  “Sonny, I do love you.  You’re a very easy person to love, though.”  He scoffed at you, so you kissed him again, relishing the feel of his soft lips against yours.

You could have listed out all the reasons you loved him.  You could have added more, but Sonny kissed you back, more urgently.  It was one of the most difficult things you’d ever done – delaying intimacy with Sonny – but you wanted to make sure he was absolutely certain that he wasn’t a rebound.  You broke the kiss to tell him as much.

“I want you to know that I want you for you,” you said seriously.  Your hands, still on his face, shifted to the back of his head until they were tangled in his hair.  “You are not just a convenient hook-up.”

“I know, doll,” he whispered back, but you still saw a shadow of doubt in his blue eyes, and you sighed.

“You don’t believe me,” you said as a statement of fact, and Sonny shook his head but you knew you were right.  “I’ll have to show you then.”

You took his hand and led him to the back of his apartment until you found his bedroom.  You pulled him into the room and shut the door behind him.  You took his hand, still clasped in yours, and raised it to your mouth.  You pressed a chaste kiss to the back of his hand, and then told him, “I love your hands, Sonny.  I love the way they feel when they’re touching me.”

He narrowed his eyes at you like he was trying to figure out if you were teasing him, so you continued.  You helped him remove his blazer.  You reached up with slightly shaking fingers and unbuttoned his checked shirt, then pushed it off of his shoulders too.  Then you untucked the hem of his undershirt, glancing up in permission and noting his slight nod.  He helped you pull it over his head, and it tousled his hair even more.

“I love your heart, Sonny.”  You pressed your palm over where his heart was thudding, strong and steady.  “I love how much care and concern you have for the victims you work with, and I love how kind and thoughtful you are.”

You looked up and saw him blushing deeply, but he looked oddly pleased at the praise.  You always guessed he had a praise-kink, and it looked like you were right.

You drew you hand over his chest, brushing against his nipples.  He drew a hitching breath as you did.  “I’m only so-so on your nipples,” you joked.  “Average, at best.”

He let out a surprised peal of laughter, and you giggled with him.  You pushed him gently towards his bed until he sat down.  You pulled off his shoes and socks and examined his feet.  “Feet are nice,” you told him with a grin.  “I could love these.”

“They’re pretty good on the dance floor,” he replied, and you crawled on top of him until you were straddling him.  His hands hesitated, then came to rest lightly on your hips.

“You going to take me dancing, Sonny?”  He nodded eagerly, and you shook your head.  “Make sure it’s to music with a beat.  No free-form jazz.”

He laughed again.  You sat up on him, holding yourself up a bit so that you were lightly settled over the bulge growing underneath you.  You reached down with a hand and ghosted it over his face, drifting from feature to feature.

“I love your eyes – how blue they are and how I can read your emotions in them.”  He closed his eyes as you drifted a finger over his lids, gentle as a night breeze.

“I love your cheeks and ears, and how flushed you get when you’re embarrassed or happy.”  He opened his eyes again as you touched his sharp cheekbones and then tugged on the lobe of one of his ears.

“I do not,” he said, defensive. 

“No?”  You leaned forward a bit, bringing your face closer to his so that you could stare into his eyes.  “So if I told you that I want you to fuck me senseless, nothing would happen?”

Three things happened:  you felt Sonny harden even further against you, and you heard him groan as his face turned bright red.  You dipped your head and kissed him gently, working your lips against him and enjoying the groans you were drawing from him.

You broke away.  “I love your mouth, by the way.  I love how it gets you in trouble and how it gets you out of trouble.”

“Do you prefer any particular way it gets me out of trouble?” he said, and his accent was notably thicker.  You ran a finger over his pink lower lip.

“I’d love for you to surprise me, Dominick,” and you noted how his blue eyes darkened at your use of his first name. 

You ran your hands through his hair, mussing it even further.  “I love your hair, too.  But more than that, I love what’s underneath it.  I love how smart you are, how funny.”

You ground yourself on him lightly the whole while, and he bucked his hips involuntarily against you.  “Anything else?” he asked, his voice husky.

“Hmm,” you pretended to think.  You hoisted yourself off of him, and you unbuckled his belt and unbuttoned his jeans.  He looked down at you through hooded lids, and you noted the hitched quality of his breathing.  He raised his hips up enough for you to pull off his jeans, leaving him in only his tented boxer briefs.

“You need to catch up, doll,” he said in a strangled voice, so you kicked off your Keds and pulled your dress over your head, revealing the lingerie you’d bought for Sonny.

It had its intended effect.  Sonny sat up and reached for you, placing his hands on your hips before sliding them around to cup your ass.  He pulled you closer to him and buried his face against your bare stomach.  You could feel his pillowy lips pressed to you, his hot breath…you drew your hand through the hair on the back of his head and tugged him away until his blue eyes were gazing up at you.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured, and coming from his mouth, it was the first time you believed it.  You let him pull you into his lap, straddling him again, and he moved his mouth to the mounds of your breasts, pushed up to obscene heights by the pink lace and wire of your bra.

You scratched his scalp and pulled his hair lightly as he kissed your breasts:  pressing gentle kisses along the exposed skin at the top, then kissing harder through the lace until he was sucking against first one nipple, then the other.  The wet lace and the pressure from his mouth made them grow hard, and he bit them lightly, pressing the edges of his teeth against them until you moaned at the faint sting of pain.  Then he soothed them with his mouth again until you moaned louder.

“Sonny,” you said.  “I had a whole thing worked out, and you’re distracting me…”  You bit off the last sentence with a groan as he reached up with one hand to pull the cup of your bra down.  He moved his head lightning fast, and his warm mouth was on you again.  His tongue worked against your nipple, and your hips ground against him.

“I thought you liked my mouth,” he mumbled, and the vibration from his words sent another shard of desire straight to your core. 

“I love your mouth,” you replied.  “There’s just other parts of you I still haven’t met yet.”  You rolled your hips against him so that he was crystal-clear on your meaning, and he responded by swiveling you around on the bed.  You scooted up until your head rested on a pillow, and he stretched himself alongside you.

He kissed your urgently, and his lips worked against your mouth until your lips were parted.  He slid his tongue into you, licking against your mouth, and you pressed your own tongue against him.  His hands roamed your body without clear meaning, cupping your breasts and thumbing your nipples before they stuttered their way down to your panties.  He cupped your mound there and groaned when he felt how wet you were through the fabric.

He rubbed you through the lace, his finger slipping along your slit.  “What’s this, doll?” he whispered.

“It’s all for you, Dominick,” you panted against him.  Hearing his name spurred him on, and he toyed with the hem of your panties before slipping a finger underneath to resume his stroking.

You’d waited so long for him, and you were afraid you weren’t going to last very long.  You could already feel an orgasm approaching.

“Please, Sonny,” you begged him.  You should hate how whiny you sounded, but you were beyond care at this point.  All you could focus on was Sonny – his swollen pink lips, his mussed hair, his fingers dipping into you and teasing you.

He obliged by pulling his hand away altogether, and he sat up and removed his boxer briefs.  He reached into his bedside table and found a condom.  You unhooked your bra and slid out of your panties while he tore open the foil and rolled the condom on himself, and you felt your mouth go dry when he turned back to you.

His blue eyes were dark with desire, and he crawled over you and lowered his weight onto you, pressing you into his mattress.  He leaned down and kissed you again, full of passion, his tongue plunging into your mouth as he swallowed your moans.  His cock was a heavy weight pressed against your hip, and you opened your legs to him.  He broke the kiss at this and gazed down at you.

“You sure, doll?  You sure you want to do this?”

You reached up and stroked his flushed face.  “I’m sure I want you, Sonny.  I love you.”

He groaned at this and reached down to line himself up with your entrance.  “Say it again,” he pleaded, so you told him, over and over as he slid himself into you slowly.  Once he was buried to the hilt, he shuddered, but then he kissed you firmly and replied, “I love you too.”

He set a languid pace, unhurried as he pulled out partway and paused before sliding back into your slippery depths.  He kissed you as he fucked you gently, and you whimpered at the sensation of being filled by him in both your core and your mouth.  He only broke away to catch his breath and pause in his thrusts, and you knew he was trying to make it last for both of you.

You were less patient.  You’d been running in a state of perpetual horniness from all of your dates with him, and the pleasant tension in your belly was almost unbearable.  You drew one leg up and wrapped it around his waist, changing the angle just a bit.  Sonny didn’t get the hint – or ignored it – and continued his unhurried thrusts.

“Sonny…” you whined against his mouth.  “Please.”

He huffed against you.  “I don’t want this to end,” he breathed. 

You laughed, a bit breathless.  “Sonny, when it ends, we can always go again.”

He pretended to think about it.  “Sold,” he said.  He picked up the pace a bit then, thrusting into you with more force.  You could feel him dragging along your entrance, delivering a delicious bit of friction to your swollen nub. 

“Just like that,” you exhaled into his ear.  “You feel so good, Dominick.”

He groaned at the praise and went a bit faster and harder, and you spurred him on with your words and your moans, and before you knew it, the tension in your belly snapped in an explosion of white stars behind your eyelids, and you raised off the bed to arch against him. 

“Fuck, Sonny,” you wailed, and his thrusts grew irregular and hard as he chased his own orgasm and fucked you through yours.  Your legs trembled underneath him, and you felt your core clenching him as waves of pleasure crashed through you.  He shouted your name and came too, shuddering against you before he collapsed on top of you.  He buried his head against your neck, and you felt his panting breath start to steady after a time. 

He raised his head to kiss you gently, then he gazed into your eyes.  “I love you,” he said solemnly, so you repeated it back to him just as serious.

Sonny pulled out then, and he disappeared for a moment to clean up and dispose of the condom.  When he returned, you had already turned down the bed and was tucked into his cool sheets.  He slid in beside you, and you laid your head on his chest and listened to his solid heart beating underneath you.

“You ready to go again?” you asked playfully, and he chuckled underneath you.

“It might take me a minute.  I’m not as young as I used to be.”

You propped yourself up on an arm and peered down at him.  “You mean to tell me that the man who drank Mountain Dew and played Rampage on one of our dates is an old man?”

“I didn’t say I was old,” he scoffed.  “I just said I wasn’t young.”

“Middle aged then.”

“No….”

“Due for a midlife crisis,” you cut off.

“No, I…”

“Gonna buy a pony car, find a secretary to seduce…”

He responded with a growl, flipping you onto your back and kissing you to silence you.  He worked his mouth against you until you were breathless, and you felt him hardening against your hip.  He broke away and you smirked up at him.

“That didn’t take long,” you noted.

“You have that effect on me,” he replied, but he smiled down at you with a strange expression on his face, and he pushed an errant strand of hair out of your face.  “You do know I love you though, right?  I’m not just in this for the, uh, physical stuff.”

“The sex?”  You smiled to see him blush; he would probably always be an altar boy at heart.  “I know that, Sonny.”  You reached down and stroked him, savoring the feel of him stiffening in your hand.  “And I love you too.”

You pushed him onto his back and then crawled on top of him until you were straddling him.  “Let me show you how much I love you.”  And you did, that night – and every night after.  Not always physically, but you always made sure you told him – and showed him – how much you loved him.  And he did the same for you.

[lendmyboyfriendahand]

Trans Celegorm

Celegorm was born female. Strong-daughter hasty-riser, whose hair looks just like her grandmother. 

Celegorm at ten knowing she is different somehow from the other girls. It’s not just the privileges of rank, or her discomfort with the expectations of a princess of the Noldor. Something about the role in society that Celegorm is supposed to take up just sits wrong, as much as she tries to ignore it.

Celegorm’s period starts at 12 and she hates it, hates her body, hates knowing she’ll never grow as tall and as broad as her father or Maedhros. Her body is built for giving new life, so Celegorm learns how to take life instead. She asks to join Orome’s hunt and is told she’s too young. She does everything she can to practice the skills anyway.

Celegorm is accepted to join the hunt at 15, when she manages to sneak up on Tilion. Running with the maiar who view her as weak because she’s an incarnate who didn’t build her muscles from the atoms up to be the best at snapping a deer’s neck, not because she’s a girl. Celegorm not knowing why this feels better, but at least she can fight and track when her head gets too full of circling thoughts. Celegorm can sneak up on anything, and learns quickly enough how to avoid leaving a blood trail of her own whether it’s from a scrape on her arm or from her cunt.

Celegorm trying to feel good in her body, and succeeding in the moments when she’s clothed, or when she’s not being judged. But now her tits have grown and she hates them, hates how they get in the way of her bow unless she binds them down, how when she goes home Maedhros says it’s improper to wrestle with her (and maybe he’s just stuffy and formal now, but also Celegorm is a very hands on fighter.) Celegorm hates how everyone expects her to wear clothes that are wrong, tailored to emphasize the chest not the shoulders, flowing and getting in the way. Sure, everyone has to wear robes at court, but then Father can come home and just wear an apron and trousers in the forge while Celegorm can’t.

Celegorm at 17 realizing she wants to be a man.

Celegorm at 17 thinking no one will take her seriously, she’s not even of age, and has always been weird anyway. Everyone will say it’s just about not fitting in to normal society.

Celegorm realizing that even her parents don’t truly understand her – no, him. Not in this at least. Sure, Feanor bakes according to his mother’s recipe, and Nerdanel wrestles huge blocks of marble into place. But Feanor is a man and Nerdanel is a woman.

Celegorm figuring screw it, they can’t stop him.

Celegorm is skilled with a knife by now. If he cuts the lumps off his chest, no one will be able to tell he’s a girl from a distance. And if someone is close enough to see between his legs, they’re close enough for Celegorm to punch.

Celegorm will run away to the forest for a couple years and come back outside Alqualonde. Just another elf who had to take a break from cities to live in nature, it’s not that rare. Another wild man of the hills.

Nerdanel first realizes that Celegorm is trans when she opens her daughter’s room to find Celegorm about to conduct amateur surgery. Celegorm has put thought and preparation into this; he has a sharp knife and boiling water to clean it, and a pile of boiled rags (the remains of his bedsheet), and a chair set up in front of the mirror. The chair is draped in another sheet, and there’s a towel on the floor. Celegorm has a thoughtful look and is drawing on his breasts with charcoal, trying to plan the cuts. He needs to save some of the skin, can’t ruin his own hide, and he needs to avoid arteries though he’s never butchered anything with an elven shape…

Nerdanel panics and yells. After establishing that it’s not a suicide attempt (“If I wanted to die, I’d just go provoke a bear, Mom, it would be far less hassle!”), she’s still rather concerned. And Nerdanel knows that if she takes Celegorm’s knife, Celegorm will just find or make another. So even though this topic really out to be considered for longer in her opinion, Nerdanel doesn’t say that.

“Would you please get dressed and we can find a practiced surgeon in the city? You deserve the best care possible in changing your body.” Nerdanel compares it to how Celegorm had a personal trainer when building muscle as a child, to make sure he didn’t sprain anything. And does Celegorm really want to risk severing an artery, or cutting a tendon?

Celegorm agrees. Gender reassignment surgery isn’t actually a common thing in Tirion – most people who transition go for a years-long hormonal thing, or let the Valar build them a whole new body and move their spirit into it. But Celegorm knows this body, and he isn’t going to wait.

Specifically, by the time they go home they’ve talked to four different surgeons and found one with availability in the next week, assuming no one gets in an archery accident in the meantime.

Celegorm goes in. He gets his tits cut off. He sees no reason to get a cock – he’s already learned how to piss without getting it on his boots.

Celegorm eventually tries sex. He laughs at everyone who says you need a cock to be dominant. All you need is to be able to pin your partner to the bed and use them as a dildo.

Canon still happens. Celegorm still kidnaps Luthien and threatens her in an attempt to marry her. He’s not super invested in having kids, and if Luthien wants them he’s sure Melian can do some magic to make sure the babies share his blood. 

(Amras is also a transman. With experience, Nerdanel and Feanor notice early enough to get him puberty blockers.)

[chosos-mascara]

the christmas tree

𝙘𝙝𝙤𝙨𝙤 𝙭 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧

𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆 - you, choso, and his little brother yuji decorate the christmas tree! (drabble, 0.6k words)

"Here, here!" Yuji shouted at the top of his lungs, small arms waving widely. Between his fingers had been a bauble, swinging with each flail, light shining from the reflective surface. Laughing, you nudged Choso toward his brother, watching as he'd placed his hands over the young boy's sides, lifting him into the air to aid in reaching the higher branches of the half-decorated tree. Yuji placed the ornament onto the branch, string looped over the pines, though threatening to fall off. The boy's grin ballooned over both cheeks, admiring the work he'd done thus far as his brother brought him downward. His feet met the carpeted flooring of the apartment once more, jumping gleefully before running to grab another decoration from the pile of boxes. 

The tree, an inexpensive pre-chopped plant from the supermarket, had been hand-picked by the three of you earlier that morning. A Sunday, as Yuji had school on week days, yourself and Choso work, though it would soon be the holidays. Choso had attempted to keep his cool through placing the tree in the holder and screwing it in place, yourself adjusting the branches and weaving the warm-toned fairy-lights between them. All while Yuji had carelessly watched'The Nightmare Before Christmas' , sipping on milk and cookies that had been bought for Santa, unfazed by the light amount of (lighthearted) bickering. 

The pink-haired boy hopped back over to you, dangling a bigger bauble, this one placed lower on the tree, not needing the help of the two adults. Choso draped an arm back over you, tilting his head to rest upon yours, watching the boy he'd loved dearly. It had been the first holiday season the pair of you were spending together; a time usually difficult for Choso. Being twenty-six and taking care of a child alone had meant money was tight, especially at this time of year. Yuji would mention the gifts his friends at school were recieving, not from mallace but from genuine excitement, Choso riddled with guilt. All of the Christmas movies would showcase a large, happy family, ones with two parents, grandmothers and grandfathers - something the pair of them didn't have.

This year, was different, though. He'd known that when Yuji had pointed out a mother and father in a Hallmark Christmas movie the day before, instead of innocently asking why they didn't have parents too, he'd compared the couple to yourself and Choso. You'd felt his hand tighten yours a little more when his brother had made the wholesome resemblance, a quick inhale of shock and realisation that this year, he'd had you to support him. With the pair of them, you'd felt a warmth you hadn't gained from your own home life - they were your family, now. 

"Wanna put the star on top?" You'd asked a leaping Yuji, eyes lighting up as he'd nodded profusely. It had been your turn to lift him, bringing him as high as you could, his shirt lifting a little with the movement of his own arms, strugling, but eventually placing the silver cone over the top branch. Praising his work, you took a step back, placing the boy over your hip.

Choso stepped toward you, wrapping his arms around your torso, chest pressed to your back. He placed his chin atop your shoulder, closely to his brother's face, causing Yuji to laugh. Nimble fingers grabbed at the black hair, using the strands for stability as he leaned forward, a small kiss planted upon his cheek. Choso smiled, something not many people had the pleasure of seeing, a genuine expression that you'd appreciated. "I love you both so much." Voice a whisper, Choso spoke before returning a kiss to his brother, then to you. This was the first Christmas of many, with the pair that had mattered most.

[cherry-cola-on-ice]

Wishing Well

Who knew that the killer next door was also a Disney Princess?

When you inherited your late grandmother's place, just outside the boundaries of Crystal Lake, you heard all the rumors. Of Pamela Voorhees, he poor son, her death and the son's supposed resurrection

You thought them all just that, rumors.

But life has a way of making a jackass out of you.

So, there you were, watching as the hulking beast of a man place more wood onto your growing pile. Your coffee mug sat abandoned on the counter, rapidly cooling down. And your eyes, wide as the can be, watching every move he made.

It was a fascinating terror running through your body right now.

Again the rumors.

Jason Voorhees. Deranged, deformed, pyscho killer. Heartless and ruthless. Oh, he'd kill you the instant you stepped foot onto his property. And he was brutal with his kills.

But, here you were. Watching him helping you.

Almost as if he felt your eyes on him, Jason threw down the last log and turned to face you. You held eye contact with him, neither of you daring to blink. You broke first, lifting your hand and giving him a timid wave.

Jason stood still for a moment, before turning around, disappearing into the woods.

You let out a breath you didn't know you were holding "Holy shit..."

The next time he made his presence known, you were trying to fix the door. It creaked when you opened it and any cold breeze would slither itself through the cracks. You spent one too many mornings struggling to keep the front room warm.

You threw down the screwdriver in anger "Stupid piece of shit door. Stupid old ass cabin. "

You sniffled, bringing your knees to your chest. You were tired and constantly cold. You couldn't afford to move back to the city, you sold everything you had there. Moved out to the middle of nowhere to take care of this place.

You felt helpless.

The sudden squeak of the stairs made you jump, your eyes watery and wide. There, standing on your front porch was Jason Voorhees himself. The two of you made awkward, prolonged eye contact once again, before he broke it by leaning down.

You scooted back, afraid that this was finally it. The day Jason killed you. Holding back a whimper, your eyes screwed themselves shut. You waited for the killing blow.

But it never happened.

Daring to open up a eye, you looked over at the man who you thought was your death. Instead of a machete in his hand, he held your discarded tool. And instead of swinging it down on your head, he was....

Fixing your door??

Jason held the screwdriver in one hand and the other braced the door. He tightened the three screws holding the hinge. Then he shut the door, placed the screwdriver on the railing and walked away from you without a single glance.

As soon as he was out if eyesight, you jumped up and launched your body into the house, shutting the door behind you. You placed your hands against your chest, feeling your heart beating quickly. You walked over and sunk down to the couch, before the adrenaline wore off and sleep took control.

It wasn't the until the next time you saw him that you were brave enough to utter a word.

If you could say anything about Crystal Lake, you could definitely call it beautiful. The calm lake waters, the vibrant skies and the mass expanse of trees. Not to mention the array of adorable creatures.

Up ahead, just past your property line, there was a well. And not like a creepy old well you'd see in horror movies, you were sure (at least about 95% sure) that no girl with dark hair was going to clamber he way out.

It was more of that Disney princess well. Like, with ivy growing around it, small blue birds flying about. The whole shebang. Yes, it technically wasn't on your property, but it was a small price to pay.

A part of you hoped that Jason would show up.

You sighed, leaning against the cold stone of the well. Why was he taking up so much space in your head? You should be scared of him, but sometimes you got the feeling that he didn't want to hurt you.

The logs, him fixing the door. Why do all of that if he was going to kill you? He was practically trying to keep you alive.

A branch snapped behind you, but you didn't bother turning around. You knew exactly who it was behind you "Sorry, Mr. Voorhees. I know I'm technically on your property, but I just love this well."

You turned to face the man behind you, giving him a smile "You ever seen Snow White? "

Jason nodded, almost shocked that you weren't running away screaming from him. You laughed, turning back to well. Jason tentatively stepped towards you, positioning himself on the opposite side of the structure.

You hummed a melody under your breath "I loved that movie growing up. Although, I never understood what she was thinking. Taking a apple from that creepy old lady. "

Jason nodded furiously, fighting back the urge to get closer to you. A small blue bird sang above you, landing on his shoulder. While he wasn't fazed, you looked over at him with wonderment.

You giggled "So if you're Snow White, does that make me the prince?"

You weren't sure if Jason could blush (was he technically undead?) But if he could, you definitely think that right now, he'd probably be beet red.

You almost felt bad. The hulking man was physically trying to appear smaller. You furrowed your eyebrows "I am so sorry. That was completely out of line. "

Jason looked up, his one bright blue eye wide. He shook his head fervently, hands up. He tilted his head, before walking towards you. He was tentative, half expecting you to run. But you stayed.

His large hand lifted up, placing it against the mouth of his mask. He then brought those fingers to your cheek, pressing gently. Your cheeks flushed hotly. Jason slipped his hand off, shuffling his feet in the dirt.

It was adorable, seeing just how flustered and shy he could be. You smiled up him "Hey, I'm making soup and grilled cheese for dinner. Would you care to join me?"

Jason nodded again, a little more confident now.

If only you knew how much this meant to him.

[chaxiu]

object impermanence

pairing: iwaizumi hajime x female! reader

summary: a love letter to small towns, and all the other things we outgrow. inspired by "the dry season" by hannah gramson.

⎯⎯⎯

The thing is this: if there’s anything you’re sure of, it’s that Iwaizumi Hajime loves his hometown, small as it is.

He loves the quiet streets, the roads that he’s been walking since he was old enough to take those first steps on his own, face screwed up in extreme concentration in a way that his mother loves to mimic even today. He loves the grandmother around the corner that always tells him Goodness, Hajime-kun, you’re getting so tall, even though he hasn’t grown even a fraction of a centimeter since his second year of high school, much to his dismay and Oikawa’s delight. He loves the konbini next to the school that always keeps his favorite popsicles in stock (the ones that come with two sticks and are perfect for splitting,) even in the heat of summer when everyone and their mother is scrambling to buy anything that’ll keep them cool. He loves his school, his team, and his friends: he loves the foundations he’s built here, the foundation he’s become. He loves his family, and the agedashi tofu that his mother makes for him whenever she thinks he’s done a good job at something or he needs something to cheer him up or she just wants him to know that she loves him.

He loves you: you know this. Have known this, ever since he’d started offering to walk you home from school, ears red, hand scratching the back of his neck as he looked anywhere but at you. You’d grinned at him, then. “Are you gonna look at me at any point the entire way?”

The red had spread to his cheeks. Part of you wanted to reach up and poke them, see if they could get any redder. “Shut up,” he’d said, wrenching his gaze to yours with what looked like some difficulty. “Do you want me to walk you home or not?”

You did, although he didn’t need to know just yet quite how much. Instead, you had grinned at him, shuffling a little closer and letting that stand as your response. 

One day bled into two, then into a week, and before you knew it he was standing in front of you, hands clenched into fists as he yelled into your face: “I like you!”

“I know,” you’d said.

He’d stood there, mouth still half-open, until you decided to take pity on him, reaching up to cup his face in your hands, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek before stepping back. He’d reacted almost immediately, grabbing your hands in his and pulling you to him, close enough that your foreheads almost knocked together.

You remember thinking a lot of things. How his eyes were greener than you’d ever noticed, that he smelled like salonpas and clean cotton. Mostly, you remember thinking about how rough his hands were: callused and sturdy, far bigger than your own.

They’d held you so tenderly. Fingers loose around your wrists, palm cupped underneath yours: soft, so soft.

Tonight it’s hard to remember a lot of things about Iwaizumi: the exact way his chin dimples when he grins, or how his voice rasps in the morning without the tinny sound of your phone’s speaker laid over it. You still remember his hands, though. You don’t think you could ever forget. 

A crackling yawn comes through the speakers. “Babe? You there?”

“I’m here,” you say, quiet. “I always am.”

Night for you means morning for him, and Iwaizumi wakes up diligently every week for your scheduled calls, even if it means you get the pleasure of hearing his earth-shattering yawns every five minutes for the entire duration of the call. It’s what both of you signed up for, you know: it’s part and parcel of being in a long-distance relationship. And California to Japan is about as long-distance as it gets: your friends in college, when you tell them about him, all cluck disbelievingly. “So far away,” they all say. “That must be so difficult.”

“I love him,” you always say back. There’s no point in talking about whether or not it’s difficult. What matters is whether or not you’re willing to do it. At least that’s what the two of you had decided, when you sat down and talked it out a month before he was set to leave for California.

“I don’t want to let you go,” he’d said, eyes holding yours steadily. “I want to make us work, do you?”

He’d said your name, cradled in between his tongue and the roof of his mouth like it was the most precious thing he’d ever held, and you knew then you would never forgive yourself if you hadn’t tried.

“Yeah,” you’d said. It had been worth the tightening in your stomach to see the way his face lit up like the sun. “Of course I do, Hajime.”

“Hajime!” comes from the other end of the call, heavily accented and distorted almost beyond repetition. You catch a glimpse of blonde hair on the screen: Iwaizumi’s roommate. All you’ve been able to discern about him is that he’s a beanstalk of a man – long and lanky, with no coordination whatsoever – and is from the south of the U.S., which Iwaizumi tells you is apparently famous only for cowboys and meat. He seems nice enough, from what you can tell; still, hearing Iwaizumi’s first name in his mouth leaves a sour taste in yours.

It’s not like he means anything by it, you know. It’s only a difference in culture: Iwaizumi has told you about how it still shocks him, sometimes, to hear near-strangers call him by his first name. It’s not the same, you want to tell him, but there’s no way to tell him how it makes you feel without sounding ridiculous. That it feels like letting go. That it feels like your hold on him is weakening, somehow.

Back home, it was only his parents and you that regularly called him Hajime. Mattsun and Makki called him Iwaizumi, or Iwa, if they were feeling particularly chummy; Oikawa, of course, stuck with the tried-and-true Iwa-chan. At school, you’d been the only one to call him Hajime, and everyone knew what that meant. Now, everyone does, and it pokes at something tender in you, something you hadn’t even realized could be hurt in the first place.

Iwaizumi swivels around in his chair, saying something in English. You tuck your chin into your forearms, resting on the desk, watching his expression as he barks out a laugh, loud and harsh and your favorite sound in the whole entire world.

The last time he’d come home was almost three months ago, sun-tanned and with even broader shoulders. Still, there was the same familiar press of his hand on your back as he’d gathered you up in a hug. “Missed you,” he’d said, and you’d known that he’d meant it.

“Missed you more,” you’d said, and you’d meant it, too.

The thing is this: you’re absolutely certain that Iwaizumi Hajime loves his small town.

You’re also sure that he’s outgrown that love.

Two months and two weeks ago, you’d bounded up the stairs to his bedroom, hand poised at the doorknob to let yourself in when you heard Iwaizumi’s voice, gruff and irritated as usual but with a thread of tension through it, brittle in a way you’d never heard it before. 

“-- I know it’s a good opportunity,” he’d said. “Utsui Takashi is a legend. I’ve wanted to work with him since forever –”

The person on the other end had cut him off with something you couldn’t hear. Iwaizumi had heaved an enormous sigh. 

“Yes, even though he’s Ushijima’s dad. You know, you’re the only person in the world who’s still holding on to that grudge, I bet. But it would mean that I’d be committed to live in the U.S. for the next five years after I graduate, at least. Maybe more, if they decided to give me a job there. It might mean staying there permanently. And… I’m pretty committed to coming back here.”

Another pause. 

“I know she’d understand, if I told her. But I don’t think I could do that to her. I don’t think I could make her wait for me like that. She deserves more than half a relationship, and I want to give that to her.”

A longer pause, this time, then an irritated growl. “I know I’m losing a good opportunity. I just – I can’t. I don’t want to talk about it anymore, okay? Utsui-san said I could have time to think about it, anyway. I’ll have plenty of time to figure out how to let him down gently.”

Your hand was shaking, you’d realized with a start, pulling it back to your side. You’d turned and walked straight back out of his house, swiveling at the doorway to rap three times on the frame, letting the sound echo limply through the rooms.

Iwaizumi had come downstairs and grinned at you. “Hey,” he’d said, as if he wasn’t giving up his life for you.

“Hey,” you’d said back, as if you weren’t letting him.

You’d meant to talk to him about it, you really had. But he’d seemed so content in Miyagi, in the same little town you’d both grown up in, the one both of you had known since birth. And a part of you, a selfish part, a larger part than you’d like to admit, had been whispering the entire time: Would this be so bad? He could be happy here. You could make him happy here.

And then he’d left, and now you’re here, sitting at your desk in your childhood bedroom, watching him tip back in his chair dangerously far, laughing so hard you’d probably be able to see his molars if it weren’t for your shitty camera quality.

You’re happy he’s happy. You don’t think you could stop being happy for his happiness. 

There’s just this part of you that wishes he could find that here, still.

But you know contentment isn’t happiness, no matter how desperately the both of you have been trying to pretend it can be. He’s happy there, where he’s constantly challenged, constantly pushed to be better, better, better. Where he gets to chase his own dreams and not be constantly haunted by his what ifs. 

Here, you think you could give him everything you had and it still wouldn’t be enough. 

Iwaizumi would pretend it was, if it came down to it. If you let him. He loves you enough that he would. He’d press a kiss to your forehead before leaving for work in the morning and a longer one to your lips when he came home in the evening. There would be quiet dinners and bland weekends, a soft existence spilling out before you every day.

But there would still be a hunger in him. 

It would be so selfish of you to keep him. You don’t know how to stop wanting him to stay.

“Hey.” Iwaizumi says your name, soft, a fondness in the sound that even bleeds through the screen. His roommate is out of the screen again, accompanied by a bang you assume is the closing of their door. “Is everything all right? You’ve been kinda quiet these past few weeks.”

Your stomach hurts, because of course he noticed, it’s Iwaizumi. You force a smile to your lips, although the muscles in your cheeks tremor with the effort. “Yeah, Hajime. Everything’s okay.”

“You know you can always tell me anything, right?” he asks. You know that if he were here there would be a hand intertwined with yours, or a gentle kiss pressed at the crook of your neck, right where it meets your shoulder.

That’s the problem, though. He’s not here. He can’t be here. You can’t – won’t – make him be here.

“Hajime,” you say, because some days it’s the only thing you have left to say.

He waits, silent. You can just make out the rise and fall of his chest over the pixellated laptop screen.

Coming back here, Iwaizumi had said, back when you had overheard him all those weeks ago. He’d said here, not home. Not coming back home.

“Hajime,” you say again, because you can. “Hajime, I think we should break up.”

A thud, and then Iwaizumi disappears from your vision with a muffled curse. He must’ve tipped back too far in his chair in surprise – you’re always warning him about it, ever since he’d told you about the odd chair that they’d given him in his dorm room, the one that rocks back a little too far – and fallen over. Part of you wants to laugh. The other part of you aches, a little, that this is the last time Iwaizumi will do something stupid with you here to watch it, you here to gently chastise and tease him after.

“Be careful,” you say, almost on reflex, as his head appears back on screen, hair mussed up and face red. “You’re going to crack your skull open someday.”

“I’m not going to – why are we even talking about this right now? You just said you think we should break up.” He takes a seat back in the chair, although he doesn’t tip back this time, you note. 

“You should still be careful,” you say. He’s placed his hands on the desk, where they’re in view of you and the camera, and you can see the way they’re opening and closing hopelessly, as if he’s looking for something he can hold, or something he can hit.

“What the fuck?” he asks, disbelievingly. Then, “Is this a joke?”

“No,” you say. “It’s not a joke, Hajime.”

“Why are you saying my name like that,” Iwaizumi demands. His hands squeeze into fists and stay that way, white-knuckled on the desk. 

“Like what?”

He shakes his head, rough, like he’s trying to get water out of his ears. It’s a familiar gesture, one you’ve seen him do many times before. Some distant part of you wonders if it’s too late to take it all back.

“I don’t fucking know, like – like you’ve given up already. Like you’re letting it go.”

“I’m not giving up,” you lie. “I just think that this will be better for us. In the long run.”

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” Iwaizumi asks.

“I heard you talking,” you rush out. “To Utsui-san. It’s a good offer. I think you should take it. If you don’t mind taking advice from an ex, that is.”

“Is that what this is about?” he asks, then says your name again, so full of something that makes your chest ache. “It doesn’t matter. I’ll turn him down, I’ll come back to Japan. It’s okay, baby. We can still be okay. I love you so much –”

“I love you too,” you say, even though something in your throat is making it so that it hurts to speak. “But – Hajime, I think you love me like you love Miyagi. Or the grandmother who gives us those sweet potatoes in the summer. Or that park that you always take me to, the one with the bugs you say you don’t want to catch but I can tell that you do. Hajime, do you understand me?”

Iwaizumi opens his mouth. Closes it again. “I love all of those things,” he says. “I love you the most. What’s wrong with that?”

“You love us,” you say. “We could make you content. But the offer, Hajime. It would make you so happy to be able to study with him. Really, truly happy.”

He doesn’t contest your words. You’d known he wouldn’t, had half-hoped he might. Instead: “I could still come back after,” he says. “If you were willing to wait for me.”

“You know that’s unfair to ask,” you say. There are tears at the edge of your vision, threatening to spill over. You don’t bother to wipe them away. “Unfair to me, and unfair to you. You have to keep looking forward, Hajime. I think this – all of this – belongs in your past.”

He says your name again, voice cracking, spilling over. 

Iwaizumi Hajime loves his small town. Iwaizumi Hajime loves you. 

Both of those love him enough to let him go.

“Can I change your mind?” he asks, and you shake your head. The action dislodges a few tears, and they run down your cheeks, plopping onto the fabric of your pants and no doubt leaving a stain.

“I love you,” you reply, like an apology, like a goodbye.

“I love you,” he says, like a prayer.

“Okay,” you say. “Okay.”

“Don’t forget to keep taking your vitamins,” he says, voice brittle. “And go to bed early and don’t forget to give yourself breaks and make sure to go for walks, every once in a while, okay? Just to get some fresh air. You can’t forget any of those things just because – just because I won’t be there to remind you.”

You nod, not trusting yourself to say anything back for a minute. “Don’t stress so much,” you say, forcing it out past the lump in your throat. You may never get a chance to tell him again. “I’m sure Utsui-san will recognize how hard you work. You’re going to be incredible, Hajime, do you understand?”

Iwaizumi nods, stiff. His shoulders are shaking.

“Bye, Hajime,” you choke out.

He says your name – just your name – and you nearly fold, nearly give in, nearly buy the next ticket to California just to press your face into the crook of his neck and reassure him that none of it meant anything at all. 

Instead you give a little half-wave, click the button to end the call, and shut the laptop woodenly. Your childhood bedroom has never felt so small, with the peeling posters and the small bed, tucked into a corner, with the knicknacks and stuffed animals cluttering up the shelves someone else must’ve come in and dusted, in your absence. 

Outside, your little town remains quiet. You allow yourself to mourn alongside it.

[destinygoldenstar]

☀️Reality TV’s Stupidest Alliance☀️ - Total Drama Viewer Reacts to Disventure Camp Season 1 Episode 2 “Logged & Loaded”

What am I predicting for eliminations?

Uh… how many people are here? 14?

So I’d say… 7 mergers?

Pre-Merge boots I’m guessing… I said Alec last post cause of Fiore. And I said Lilly cause she’s good at the game so they’d want to get rid of her. So… others…?

Will, Drew (forgot him in the last post), Dan, and Grett. I can see Grett being a Pre-Merge villain and getting booted right before the merge.

And… one more… I guess Miriam. Idk why, but if I had to choose out of the ones left.

I think the alliance of 4 is gonna lose half its members. I see Nick getting character development. I see Fiore being an antagonist. And Ashley… she’s nice. I just like her and hope she goes far. Jake & Tom have a thing going on that the opening spoiled so they’re both merging. Then Gabby is being set up for character development as well.

I forgot Ellie. I forgot she was on the purple team… she’s gonna be the teams swing vote, isn’t she? That sucks.

This is what the dynamic between her and Gabby are alluding to? They’re both on opposite teams but they both have major setbacks and disadvantages to their game. Gabby cause no one likes her and she’s allied with Grett, and Ellie cause she’s stuck in the middle of her team and will be screwed if she doesn’t play… less than pure, I guess. But they become besties and it trumps those issues.

That’s what I’m predicting anyway.

So… let’s start this episode.

I got the SAME AD AGAIN. WTF?!

"Is that recycled paper?"

How does he write that fast? That's impressive. Gimme that skill.

"I want to talk to her but she scares me a little."

What did she do to you?

"She reminds me a little of my grandmother. How she walks, how she talks... I miss her."

"She's been sick for months and she can't have visitors."

Oh my god...

Is that why he's competing? Medical bills to help her?

Well geez, keep that up and I might actually root for you to win.

"Yeah, she was often cranky, but she was the only one that really understood me."

You on the spectrum?

"Jake... I don't know what to say, but if you need to talk to someone, I'm always here."

D'aaaaawwww 💗

That face.

He was eyeing Tom all of last episode too and I just didn't bring it up.

YOU ARE NOT SUBTLE, SIR

So we have how many characters with motives and reasons to be here now? Fiore got dumped by her parents, Nick wants to prove himself, Jake wants to help his grandma.

I'm really liking that they're giving these characters REASONS to be on the show and why they want to win.

Cause in Total Drama we don't get a lot of their backgrounds outside of the game, and only a handful explained their motives for winning. I think of Gen 1 the only one that really had a motive aside from 'I want to be rich' is Alejandro.

I like what they're doing here.

"If our team fails, you'd be the one to blame."

Pretty sure that's not how that works.

Mostly it's a social challenge. If they think you're the one at fault for the loss, just say "Whoa whoa whoa! You don't want to vote me! You want to vote that guy!"

I obviously would suck at Survival.

So... actually I like Grett's game move here. Be on good terms with the leader, and... do what I said basically.

"WHOA WHOA GUYS! You don't want to vote Tom! Let's vote that glasses guy instead! That's a much better game move! TRUST ME."

Oh these two...

They're like "Oh shit. We're the outliers here, aren't we?"

"What makes you think you'll get far? Have you seen how fast the others are getting close to each other?"

"I've noticed. That's a problem."

Oh they're actually addressing it. Cool. They're not stupid.

"You're not going to walk thirty minutes over there."

"Sure I can. I love to walk."

She just like me fr

"That fat girl made you look stupid."

Huh?

...what???

"I love your coat my the way! I own a similar one!"

Do you have a split personality?! WHAT IS HAPPENING?!

She was talking to herself...

And it was such a massive fourth wall break that it gave me an ad on body spray. XD

"Today's reward will be a complete fishing kit. That will make it easier to find food."

I guess... but you can also make cages or nets to catch fish. I know that's something that's possible.

There's not any wildlife they're killing, is there?

"An immunity totem has been hidden somewhere in the forest."

OH. ALREADY?!?!

We got an idol in play!

I wish Total Drama used Immunity Idols more. It's such a cool game mechanic in Survivor. (At least, in the clips I've seen of people playing them)

Yeah I know the Reboot did in Season 2. We don't talk about that.

"That totem could save me from the unfavorable position I find myself in."

Yes. Yes it would.

Actually, no, let me predict for a sec. Either him or Ellie find that idol, and they save themselves with it, causing a member from the 4 alliance to get the boot. And that's how that alliance breaks.

I mean, you're not gonna get them any other way I feel.

Awwww, look at Ashley carrying the demon child. 💗

"I heard how Grett spoke to you. You shouldn't let her talk to you like that."

Boy, I agree with you and I get you're nice. Grett is in hearing range and WILL gun for you.

My case and my point. Grett gunned you.

Cause it looks to me like otherwise, you tripped on NOTHING.

"I'm really curious what you look like without it."

...

EXCUSE ME?!?! O_O

BOY. YOU JUST MET.

"I'm a little scared to have to slide down from up here."

Oh for the love of drama-

Pull a Leshawna. THROW HIM OFF.

"Ellie, Alec, you go on that one. Nick, Ashley, and I can take the next one."

*does the math*

Hey wait so you're gonna leave him with the child after he JUST confessed to being scared?!

Listen to your alliance teammates! You're in hearing range, right?!

Why can't Lilly go with Fiore? Wouldn't that make more sense cause she's the one cutting?

OOOOOOOOOHHHHHH.

Grett's gonna steal that from Gabby, isn't she?

But either way, Gabby's immune, LET'S GO!

"By the way, have you started streaming the episodes yet?"

YOU THINK YOU'RE SOOOOOOO SMUG, HUH?!?! I SEE YOU.

"Remember to cut any scenes I'm in."

*Stares intensely at him*

...okay.

"What if we fall?!"

That's kinda the point.

IT'S A HILL.

*chokes on breath*

YOU GO KID. BITCH SLAP HIM.

A six year old is bitch slapping a grown man, this is not a drill.

"What was that?"

I mean, let's be honest... she just said facts.

Yeah the slap was wrong, but it's not as bad as it could've been. She just told the truth.

"You're costing us this challenge and everyone will know it."

Yes but he has something you don't. NUMBERS.

Well your point just went down the drain, cause that's YOUR fault.

WHY DIDN'T YOU GRAB TWO?!?!

The 'yay' card, aww that's so cute... 😄

"She does have a point, yeah? She's got the flags and Will's got no."

Okay, that's stupid.

1) You guys can SEE the top of the hill, right?! If you couldn't, that wasn't established.

2) You saw the position of the two on the log. Fiore was standing on top of him! OF COURSE HE COULDN'T GET A FLAG

3) Would you guys seriously DITCH your alliance?! It WILL cause you the entire long game and you know it! DON'T BLOW THAT

Oh and 4 as a bonus) You never even listened to your ally! You KNEW he was scared, and yet you left him with a KID

"Maybe this was all a misunderstanding."

Ashley. I get it's hard to not side with a child. Use your brain.

"I wish I could believe you, but I know a little girl would never do those things."

Oh my god, you've never seen a child for more than two seconds your entire life. Not every kid is a saint! Toddlers are bratty as shit! They do that to get it out of their system!

(From this point on, I will put a 'Keep Reading' mark on the Tribal Council segments so I don't spoil the eliminations for my followers)

Oh we actually SEE who votes who!

YES!! THANK YOU! I WANTED THIS!!!

This is like Survivor much more, cause they flip these cards over to share the names, and you can see what the numbers were.

I always imagine what the eliminations in Total Drama would look like if they did that as well.

Okay Lilly's being smart.

WAIT CAUSE ASHLEY THREW HER VOTE WILL'S GONNA LEAVE, OH GOD...

YOU DIDN'T TALK TO YOUR ALLIANCE ABOUT THIS?!?! YOU COULD'VE VOTED OUT ALEC TOGETHER, AND YOU'D BE FINE.

That's Ashley's vote

That's not Lilly's handwriting. Is that Will or Nick?

That's Lilly's.

Not Alec's writing... Fiore's?

Alec, Fiore... Ellie?

And that's it.

RIP

NICK IS THE TRAITOR. OMG

YOU ARE REALITY TV'S STUPIDIEST ALLIANCE

(Unless Will voted himself)

I mean I don't really care about his character, but that could've so easily been avoided.

Tom, what ninja stuff are you getting into??

If you guys want me to continue these reactions, be sure to let me know.