#juliet; head canons

[musemuseum]

Muses within the 2SLGBTQI+ community:

Bisexual 2/?

Juliet Diaz (preference for women)

Kash Peterson

Kingston Valynwood

Lex Murphy

Loyal Branson

Mara Kelley

Marrick DeLuca

Mickey Burke

Morgana Rosenfield

Naomi Martin

Oakley Marks

October Cromwell

Oliver Cress

Oscar Spears

Pandora Presley

Queenie Kirkland

Quincy Grimm

Rebecca Mycroft

Riddle Day (preference for women)

Shepard Groves

Sirius Breslin

Skylar Morrand

Sophie Flynn

Sylvie Matland

Valerie Minx

Vesper Hughes

Willa Hayworthe

Wren Young

Astrid Portland

Ethan Henderson

[lilianhuas]

“why didn’t he just kiss him”

[thecrowsart]

👁️🦎🎯

(crops under cut)

[juliets-roller-derby-awesomeness]

For the ao3 ask game :)

🍄 ⇢ share a head canon for one of your favourite ships or pairings

aaaa i have so many! here's one for each of my couples in psych

shawn & juliet:

shawn hides her makeup the day after so she can't hide her hickies.

gus & shawn:

they are both fundamentally opposed to labels. they never even talk about it, just tell people they're best friends and if anyone questions them they say their besties and they are. besties that have kissed and not just on a dare? yes. besties who adopted a dog together? yes. besties who lay all over each other while doing connections (well, gus does connections while shawn points out unhelpful observations in between rounds of maden)? yes. but they're not dating. they've never had """the conversation""" because both of them are just happy like this :)

juliet & carlton

qpr vibes only, but carlton is the little spoon and juliet brings it up in conversation with other people in a code only he knows to tease him ex: "yeah no he always goes in front of me... in crime scenes"

shawn & carlton:

low hanging fruit but they started as fuck buddies and still only say each others' last name in bed

[eldewinddolly]

Juliet dyed her hair ! The sketches are getting sloppier and sloppier lol

[sheiruki-takes-photos]

Casa di Giulietta, Verona, Veneto, Italy, 2023

[thekittyfox2999]

they better have a moment like in gnomeo and juliet where gnomeo talks to the statue of shakespear

but with arthur conan doyle and- that damned sherlock gnomes

[mxrecg]

True Love vs Infatuation | Gojo x Reader

Summary: Gojo loves nothing more than spending time with you, even if it only consists of doing the most mundane of things. It wasn't until today, you realized just how much Gojo Satoru loves you.

Pairing: High School Gojo x YN

Genre: fluff, established relationship

Word Count: 2.4k

A/n: Imma be so honest idk wtf this is but I wrote it a hellaaa long time ago. So bc JJK s2 is out I thought why not post this drabble I wrote a long ass time ago. I also genuinely think this prolly isn't how canon Gojo would act but bruh I tried!! Anyways enjoy

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

Incandescent fireflies painted the dark sky with small flakes of light, creating an enriched serene atmosphere for reading. 

So there you sat cross-legged, outside your balcony, fully engrossed by the book you were reading. 

You slowly became hypnotised by the words allocated within the pages of the novel you were reading.

As your eyes further loomed through the pages and comprehended the context, your eyebrows furrowed in irritation and cuss words occasionally left your lips. 

Lost and captivated by the words decorating the interior pages of the book, you paid no mind to the snoring boy who laid down on your lap. 

You continued reading the story. Book in your dominant hand; whereas, the other one gently massaged the scalp of the teenage boy on your lap. 

Page after page began to turn, and soon enough you’ve reached the final page… to say you were disappointed was an understatement. 

Angered at the ending, you immediately slammed the book down on a coffee table and debated on whether or not you should ignite it on fire for illustrating such a realistic yet heartbreaking ending. 

Your sudden outburst lured the teenage boy out of his sleep, and he groaned, carelessly rubbing his eyes during his tired state. 

“Did one of your favourite manga boys die again?” he asked, now fully sitting up and stretching his arms. 

“You’re not entirely wrong,” you aggravatedly muttered. 

“Then tell me what’s aggravating your pretty self and giving you wrinkles,” he stated and you didn’t even bother showing your irritation to the latter comment. 

You took a deep breath, turned your head and he watched as your eyes became livid as you recited the vast difference of each character’s milieu and how their fate perfectly intertwined with one another. 

Your hands doing all sorts of motions, in an attempt to exemplify your extreme dislike and sadness of the poetic story you read. 

A story involving two individuals who unconsciously were ameliorating each other’s lives.

“It’s infuriating Satoru!! Did these two airheads even love each other?? It hasn’t even been like 24 hours and the girl is already marrying the man who was bawling his eyes over another girl- love of my life my ass,”

Satoru listened to your outburst intently, smiling at the sounds of your melodic voice. 

You let out a small huff of frustration, before finally ending your rant and the tears suddenly cascaded down your pale skin, “That being said, the author is able to write damn well.” 

Satoru only laughed quietly, wiping away your stray tears with his right hand, “I thought you hated sad romantic books? Why would you willingly choose to read Shakespere? At least watch the movie instead,” he replied and began playing with your hair. 

His reply caught you off guard and you tilted your head in confusion, staring at him with wide eyes. 

“You know what book I’m talking about?” you asked incredulously.  

“Yes… why do you look so shocked?” he asked, continuing to brush the threads of your h/l h/c hair, “It’s Romeo and Juliet, how could I not know? I swear Shoto was straight up fangirling about the movie actor-Da Vinci!!” 

“Da Vinci?” you replied, flicking his forehead and trying to hide your growing amusement, causing the man to pout his lips, “How the hell would a painter act? A dead painter at that.”

“No- no Leonardo Da Vinci the actor-”

It took every fibre in you to not burst out laughing at the moron in front of you, “My love, listen to me carefully- it's Di Caprio. Da Vinci painted the Mona Lisa.” 

The man in front of you scoffed at your reply. 

“Da Vinci. Di Caprio, who cares. They’re both Leo’s involved in the art industry of the world. You must admit though, neither of them compare to me!” he said proudly. 

“I don’t know…. Leonardo Di Caprio does seem to have a lot of fangirls right now…. I mean have you seen him in Romeo and Juliet? Or better yet, Titanic?”

The man only poked the interior of his cheek with his tongue, scowling at you as you laughed. 

“The real question is though- did you read the book?”

“Yes,” he let out, not missing a beat. 

“The Satoru Gojo reads? The world must be ending,” you teased, clasping one of his hands and using your other hand to caress his cheek. 

Satoru didn’t say anything. Instead, he leaned into your hand and softly smiled. 

His eyes soon twinkled into amusement, as an idea struck him. 

Noticing the change of his behaviour, you lifted an eyebrow to display your confusion. Satoru remained silent and instead flipped you over, so that your back was pressed against the couch. 

He smirked, straddling your hips and began tickling your sides. 

Squirming under his touch, you burst into fits of laughter, “T-toru…. S-stop….” you tried to breathe out, “Gojo- p-please hahahaha.”

Your pleas only encouraged him to tickle you faster, and you soon began to kick your feet, thrashing beneath the man as if your strength could overpower his. 

“Say Gojo Satoru is the strongest person in the world,” he smiled, continuing his attack. 

“I’d rather die,” you said in between heaps of laughter.

The man poked the interior of his cheek before smirking at you, a playful smile adorning his face as he continued with his attack. 

“Being tickled to death. Hm that seems new, I’ll discard your body so don’t worry, suit yourself,” he replied and grazed his fingers at your newly exposed skin, since your shirt slowly began to ride up above your navel. 

“Ok ok… Gojo… is the… strongest person….” 

“Go on, continue,” he encouraged. 

Despite the laughter escaping your lips, forcing your eyes shut, you already sensed the cockiness behind his words and you immediately laughed harder when you thought of something that would catch him off guard. 

“Gojo- i-is… the… strongest….” you stuttered out. 

“Altogether, now, state the full name,” he stated. Although, it seemed more like a command than a request. 

“OK!! Gojo Y/n is the strongest person in the world,” you spurred out in one quick breath. 

Impressed with the turn of events and his lack of words, you could not help but smirk- considering you made this cocky guy lose his demeanour. 

His tickling immediately ceased, his irises resembling a deer caught in the headlights, and his mouth slowly falling open. 

Gojo was in disbelief, as he tried to ensure his hearing wasn’t deteriorating and the words that escaped your mouth not too long ago were not a part of his mere illusive imagination.

Before he could recover and say some snide snarky remark, you grabbed Satoru’s shirt, pulling him down with you against the cushions of the couch you resided on. 

The action took him by surprise, but he didn't refuse and instead grabbed your waist, pulling you closer to him, with his arms eventually caging you beneath him. 

He licked your bottom lip, and you found yourself parting your mouth slightly, both your tongues intertwining with one another. 

Caressing your cheek, he then began to angle your head more towards the left, and did not hesitate to bite your bottom lip shortly after. 

You hissed at the new sensation, and Gojo immediately attempted to alleviate the now burning sensation on your lips by running his lips over the new forming bruise. 

You were the first to pull back to breathe. As the both of you attempted to even out your breathing, one of your hands caressed his dusted pink cheeks, while the other one removed his sunglasses, revealing those piercing icy blue eyes you fell in love with. 

He looked at you with such love and adoration that you could not help but feel butterflies swarming around your stomach. 

Your e/c eyes looked up at his illuminating bright blue ones and you smiled, “I’m the strongest person in the world, Toru.”

“That you are,” he replied, kissing your nose. 

“You’re not even going to rebuttal and be the cocky bastard you usually are?” You questioned him, raising an eyebrow.

“You’re the strongest… The strongest doesn’t necessarily mean having the most power. It’s your character. Plus you got me… not just anyone could make me fall in love with them. You have my tall ass whipped around your finger.” 

You stared at your boyfriend, in awe and bursted out laughing. “We’re both strong. How about that?” 

“Mhm. We’re the top two strongest special grade sorcerers to exist, and for the next century to come” he muttered and buried himself into your neck, as he was now fully lying down on you. 

You laughed at his reply, “Your best friend might not like that statement so much,” 

“... I mean you’re also my best friend and technically you’re stronger than him, not by a longshot but still stronger nonetheless… and I couldn’t be more proud of you,” he mumbled and kissed your neck. 

You quietly hummed in reply, and began to softly hymn the songs of a soft lullaby.

Satoru was still lying on top of you, and as the melody escaped your lips, your fingers threaded his soft white hair. 

Gojo Satoru was at peace. This cocky bastard was like putty in your hands, and you wouldn’t have had it any other way.

To others his exterior forecasted a childish, arrogant and conceited individual. One who would blatantly show his dislike to those who he did not give an ounce of care for. 

And to the shaman and other sorcerers who only knew his name, he was a force to be reckoned with and feared. 

But to you, he was only Gojo Satoru. 

“Y/n?” he called out softly. 

“Yeah?” 

“You know, I love you, right?” his face may have been hiding in your neck, but you could feel him smiling. 

You raised an eyebrow at his sudden comment, but even you couldn’t stop the smile threatening to form, “I know. And I love you too, forever and always,” 

“You didn’t lie though earlier,” he randomly stated, “One day, your new name will become Gojo Y/n.”

“Satoru…” you whispered, fighting back the tears that were threatening to fall. 

“One day, I’ll marry you… and when we’re older you'll become the mother of our children.”

“One day Satoru, one day,” you replied, kissing his temple. “By the way, since when did you even read- romance books?” 

You felt his breathing hitch and he slowly pried himself off of you, aimlessly scratching the back of his head. 

“Uhm… like two years ago?” 

“Why though?”

“About two years ago,  there was a new transfer student. I noticed she was eloquently spoken, especially in English-”

“Eloquently spoken??” You asked, trying to suppress your laughter. 

“Shut up and let me finish,”

You covered your mouth and smiled. 

“Anyways, I was coming back from a mission and stuffing my face with an assortment of sweets. Then I heard you and Shoko talking about romance novels, and how you liked guys that read… so the first book I picked up was some corny romance manga and then I read Romeo and Juliet. Shitty book that I barely understood but happy ending I guess.” 

“So you only started reading because you overheard me talk about it?” you pinched his cheeks, “Aw, first year Gojo Satoru was so whipped and in love, how sweet” 

Satoru only rolled his eyes at your statement, and you bursted out laughing as you remembered his attempts to woo you back in your first year. 

“I thought you barely had any hobbies?” you asked. 

“I don’t. Because I’m good at everything.” 

“Yet you still chose to pick up reading of all things?” you slightly laughed. 

“I would pick up any hobby if you asked me to, honestly.”

“No offence, but if that is where you got your romance from you did a shitty job, love.” you giggled. 

“Ouch,” he replied,  “But hey it went pretty well, you’re mine now anyways.” 

 “That you are,” You replied, kissing his nose. “So if you read the book and I assume you also watched the movie, do you understand my pain?” 

“100% Romeo is an airhead. He was probably just horny and infatuated with the first female he saw,” he bluntly stated and you couldn’t help but laugh out loud, Satoru joining in on your laughter. 

As your laughs began to die down he continued, “On a serious note though… Whether or not it was love, their actions prove that they did love each other. I guess love really does make you blind, their suicide only proved that.”

“Tragic ending?” 

“Not really… in a way, I believe it’s a happy ending- that is, assuming those two airheads were actually in love with each other.”

“Did you not hear me muttering cuss words when reading and slamming the book? If you asked me, that book was nothing but aggravating and sad.” 

“Sad as their death was, it was a happy ending. They claimed to have met their soulmate and the love of their life before they died. Not everyone gets that luxury you know?” 

You looked at your boyfriend with both amazement and confusion, “Since when were you so wise?” 

“I don’t even know, love. But I’m not wrong…. Our story would be much happier though, because neither of us are gonna die.”

“You spoke nothing but the truth,” you quietly replied and the two of you began leaning into each other once again. 

“Who knew Satoru could be such a wise lil baby,” said a voice, laughing. 

The two of you immediately pulled away, and looked up to see no one other than Geto Suguru, the poor third wheeler of your relationship. 

“Suguru… how long have you been there for?” you asked. 

“Enough to know that this man loves you way too much… to the point where he knows his feelings for you aren’t infatuation but solid feelings.” 

While you were a blushing mess, Gojo only smiled and smacked his best friend on his back, “Okay enough chit chat, why don’t we all get something to eat, yeah? I suggest-” 

“Steak. We’re eating steak tonight at that new restaurant. You both are paying. It’s the least you could do for making me witness such crap.” 

“You’re just mad because you’re single, bro”

“Ain’t that the truth,” you agreed. 

“Shut the actual fuck, both of you lovebirds.”

The three of you then laughed and made your way to the restaurant of Suguru’s choice.

A/n: So any thoughts? I hope you all liked it <3 Ngl, this does have another part to it, but idk if I'll ever post it tbh. Follow me on my ao3 account I have other ffs there too @idekmxre

[luversgirl]

MY OBX REC LIST, part six

( ☾ = angst, ☆ = head-canon, ❀ = fluff, ✧ = smut )

rafe cameron

— his guardian angel ❀ ☾ ( part two )

— can’t remember anything before you ❀

— modern romeo and juliet ❀

— inside of me ( woah. )

— please forgive me ☾

— meant to be ❀ ☾ ( so cute im dying )

— maple syrup ☾

— bested ( love love love this series )

— too much ☾ ( sobbing )

— letters to you ( i got letters who want to be my rafe?? 💌 )

— anything for his love ☾ ( part two 🫶 )

— no other heart ❀ ☾

— baby’s day out ✧

— patch you up ❀

— so we won’t forget ✧ ❀ ☾

— watermelon ✧

— cross faded ❀

— you’re on your own kid (best rafe series hands down)

— in this life or the next ❀ ☾

— smile (favourite rafe series istg!!!!)

— all you need ❀

— under the influence ✧

— demonstration ✧

jj maybank

— a reflection of him ❀

— endgame ( this series is just 🤌 )

— sweet dreams ✧

— phantom fights ❀

— i got you ☾ ( don’t mind me i’m just SOBBING )

— overheated ✧

— pornstar ❀ ( jj pls 💀 )

— all for us ☾ ✧ ( OH. MY. GOD )

— loving you ❀

— pocket of sunshine ✧

— a little less lonely ☾

— burnt pancakes ❀

— bereal ✧ (that’s crazyyyy)

— three seconds ☾ (part two)

— the one where jj finds out about your ex ❀

sarah cameron

— fast friends ✧

— meeting sarah’s family ☆ ❀

— play time ✧

— best friend ✧ ☾

— love & hate ☾

— wish you were a boy ☾ (too retable queen 😞)

— optimism ❀

— feels like magic ❀ ☾

— just relax ✧

— girlfriend or girl thats a friend ❀ ☾

— ur my best friend ☾ ✧

— firsts ✧

— comfort ❀

pope heyward

— clingy pope ❀ (💥💳💥💳💥 )

— in love with my best friend ☾ ❀

— drive in ❀

— drabble ❀ (i wish 😩)

— lost my whole appetite ❀

— who’s in charge now? ☾

— pumpkin guts ❀ (so cute!!!!!)

— secret game ❀

barry

— headcanons ❀

— drabble ✧ (YES, tummy and thick thigh girlies stand up!!)

— lazy morning loving ✧ (love!!!!)

— forgot you not ☾

— rafebarry (live, love, laugh, rafebarry)

— drabble ✧

— nicknames ❀

john b routledge

— snow on the beach ❀

— distractions ✧

— beg for forgiveness ☾

— older ❀

— i wanted to do it first ☾ ( dang dawg )

kiara carrera

— shower time ✧

— detention ❀

— just the three of us ✧

— unspoken desires ❀ ☾

authors note ! happy valentines day lovies! here is a valentines day gift from me too all of you, enjoy! <3

[mediumgayitalian]

fic rec friday 13

hi!! welcome to fic rec friday. every week, i pick five fics i have bookmarked and rec them with a little review. check them out!

I Need A Hero by @theroyalsavage

The "Nico is a superhero, Will is a med student" AU nobody asked for or wanted.

OBSESSED WITH THIS AU OBSESSED WITH THIS AU OBSESSED WITH THIS AU. I AM LOSING MY MIND AND HAVE READ IT SO MANY DOZENS OF TIMES. genuinely one of my top faces like its so fucking GOOD!!! the romcom romance of it all!! makes me lose it!!! the angst of loving someone who is constantly putting himself on the front lines!! the fear of not knowing if he's coming home!! being his healer, holding his life in your hands because he doesn't trust it with anyone else!!!! what if i rioted!!! what if i chewed clean through my ceiling!!!!! what if i swallowed my phone!!!!!!!!!!!!!! what if i clawed my way out of the pit of despair!!!! i am!! gonna!!!!!!!!!!! AHHHHHHHH!!!

2. As If His Hands Were Enough (to Hold an Avalanche Off) by @theroyalsavage

Nico di Angelo has been through enough to know life doesn't always work out the way you plan. But fate is a funny thing, and, in Nico's junior year of college, it hands him salvation in the form of freckled cheeks and a smile like the sun.

OH dude this author is actually everything to me. prepare for an onslaught of their stuff bc i am OBSESSED, but this one especially....oh it's special man. this had me LOSING MY MIND. seph’s acceptance made its way into my devotion scrapbook. never be ashamed of loving anybody….what a fucking thesis. i also ADORED how a) story didn’t end with them getting together, went thru them learning each other too and b) nico didn’t get fixed by dating will. he got fixed by loving himself, something he learned to do by loving will. crying.

3. Of Gods and Men by @theroyalsavage

There is something profoundly strange about the forest behind Will Solace’s new house. The trees, it seems, breathe magic. The truth is this: there are things that the forest hides that humans cannot understand. Nico di Angelo is one of them.

I LOVE PARTICULAR AUS!!!!!! AND I LOVE YOU ROYAL SAVAGE!!!!! dude god nico and mortal will is always gonna knock me flat bc its so canon, you know? will is going to be a consort of a god one day. and to read it in fic has me HOWLING but this one in particular....OH the ending is gonna knock yall flat fr!!! if you like percy refusing immortality for annabeth youre gonna LOVE this!!

4. Kitchen Nightmares by @theroyalsavage

Nico is the owner and head chef of an upscale restaurant in Hell's Kitchen, New York City. There's nothing easy about running a business, especially when you have to juggle an overprotective father, a college-age sister, and a staff about as under control as a stampede. The last thing Nico needs is a rival in the form of the ugliest food truck on the face of the planet. And yet, that's exactly what he gets. Of food fights, fledgling friendships, and Nico di Angelo's stupid little soft spot for Will Solace.

i know ive literally said it like five times now but NO ONE does an au like theroyalsavage idc. dude romeo & juliet but food truck and fancy restaurant?? hello!!!! omg!! i literally sat my ass down and devoured this i could not stop myself. and then i hit the end and started it right back up again. the love without having the space to establish anything….inherent homoeroticism of rivalry…..my heart!!

5. don't wanna be lonely, just wanna be yours by @theroyalsavage

Will Solace, café manager extraordinaire, just wants to coast through their monthly open mic night in peace. He definitely is not banking on meeting a handsome stranger with the voice of the gods and the death glare of a high-ranking member of the KGB. And yet, that's exactly what he gets.

telling someone you’re not even dating you’re in love with them after like five months is insane behaviour will solace i get you 😭😭 he is so real in every scenario all the time like he is genuinely perfect for nico who is equally as insane and deserves someone who is fully obsessed with him. god.

thank you for joining me this friday!! happy reading!!

[writing-for-life]

The Mortifying Ordeal of Being Known

Or: Does Morpheus really have commitment issues?

[Bear with me, I’ll get to this panel 🤣]

I’ve read many times that Morpheus supposedly has commitment issues, and it always has me scratching my head a bit…

I personally rather think he is desperate to commit. He so badly craves a serious relationship that he is prone to rush into it and build it on wonky foundations, but he has certainly no commitment issues as we would commonly understand them.

Is it in his nature though to be truly seen and understood when he is [a] Dream? And can dreams ever last? These are the much more interesting questions in my view. Let’s have a look at the romantic relationships we know of…

Killalla: Walked out on him. That wasn’t his lack of commitment. If anything, he came on a bit strong while she was still assessing her feelings for him.

Alianora: He fully committed to her despite basically being bullied into it by Desire. And they were happy for “a goodly while”. For those in doubt: “Goodly” doesn’t mean “a bit”. It means “great, large, long.” And the fact that Alianora couldn’t go back to her own plane because she had stayed in the Dreaming too long corroborates that they were together for a long time. Probably longer than any human relationship ever lasts, because I doubt “a long time” means “a couple of years” for someone who is 12 billion years old.

And now I’ll sandwich the relationship we hardly know anything about between some random (?) panels to also make a point why I think it might sit here in the timeline…

Titania: Who knows. Sounded like an affair, and as if they both had no intention of committing. He was clearly very fond of her though, and I can never shake the feeling that we should look a bit deeper into AMND and find the parallels between Auberon, Titania (not hard, and they are pretty much pictured as estranged) and Bottom. There are many ways to get confused with a jackass, you know? 🤣 Plus, Bottom is the one who gets to play Pyramus in “Pyramus and Thisbe”. That’s the ultimate blueprint for “Romeo and Juliet”: Ill-fated love of catastrophic proportions, people are dead by the end of it. That’s why I often wondered if the affair with Titania was actually pre-Nada, and the inspiration for Shakespeare wasn’t random (it wasn’t random for The Tempest either). I mean, it wasn’t random anyway because it was a parting gift, but I also don’t think it was entirely random with regard to their relationship. Wild head-canon of course, but maybe not that wild (he also says that Wendel’s Mound was already a theatre before humans walked the earth, so there’s that)? And even if he wasn’t committed (we quite frankly don’t know if he intended to but she didn’t or couldn’t), she and the Fae meant enough to him to give them a play as a parting gift.

Nada: Killed herself after one night, but that wasn’t down to lack of commitment on his part. Again: If anything, he came on far too strong, wanted to be with her and was far too pushy about it.

Calliope: We don’t know how long they were together before they had Orpheus. Could have been a while, could have been only a shortish time. But even if we assumed they had him fairly quickly—they were still together when Orpheus, who was mortal, got married to Eurydice, so even if he got married young, we’re still talking something in the realm of +/- 20 years, and that’s the absolute low-ball-estimate. And while they had started to drift apart (considering what we know from Calliope), they were still on good terms and had no intention of splitting up until the whole Orpheus drama caused a rift they couldn’t mend. Again: That’s not someone who has commitment issues. It’s a relationship breaking down over hurt, stubbornness and grief.

Thessaly: Again, she was the one who left him and caused his dramatic interlude in the rain. Were they ill suited? Yes. Did she feel neglected and went into a strop over it? Yes. Did he not get that she felt neglected? Also yes, but that’s not lack of commitment. That’s his not getting that people aren’t mind readers (must be hard if you’re probably one yourself 🤣) and, by and large, need assurances of love. He doesn’t get that these women don’t understand they have his love; he can’t grasp that line of thinking because it is all so clear to him when he loves someone: They have him, what’s the issue? Is that a not so great way of (not) communicating when you’re having a relationship to someone? Absolutely. Is it a commitment issue though? Absolutely not.

I think Morpheus doesn’t really have commitment issues in romantic relationships—wouldn’t that almost be antithetical to his nature? Rules and responsibilities. Yeah, about that one…

What I do think is that he struggles with the mortifying ordeal of being (not) known by his lovers. Because how could he? He is Dream. That is his problem. Dreams cannot be fully known or understood. He is very eloquent but at the same time a very… confusing communicator. I don’t want to say “bad”, because I feel that’s not getting to the bottom of it. Again, it is the nature of dreams to be confusing and strange, open to (mis)interpretation, hard to grasp and understand. And they also stop being dreams once they become real. All of that is true and hence makes relationships both hard for him and those involved. Is he truly not willing to commit though?

I still find that hard to believe…

[coffee-with-mint-syrup]

The case of live-action atla zutara.

First of all, the scarf scene. I won't be repeating myself, here are some main points - there was absolutely no reason for Zuko to act the way he did and for the scene to be shot this dramatically. Even if they did the shipbaiting in this scene - it means there's a ship which is much more than live-action kataang has at this point. Also I don't really think these guys are shipbaiting type but that's just the impression I got.

Then - the second obvious one - Oma and Shu's visuals. We have star-crossed lovers from two towns at war, basically the local equivalent of Romeo and Juliet (as in legendary lovers who are known above all for their love) wearing coincidentally colors that are primarily associated with two of our characters (who shared this dramatically shot scene in the previous episode).

And I know, it may seem so insignificant - but but but but! - you have to think about this. Of course there are creators, writers and showrunners that are unaware of some non-canon ships or don't care about them. But it's not the case for atla. No, creators of atla were so aware of zutara - they wrote a parody scene in a in-world trashy play to mock this fan pairing and it still proved absolutely nothing and just gave zutara more content. The creators and writers of this adaptation clearly had the discussion "what we should do with kataang" - because there is no trace of kataang in the 1st season. So it was a conscious decision to omit that - but where would the romantic subplot go? Well, I don't know, but they are showrunners, they most certainly discussed options. They are clearly very, very, very much aware of zutara. And they still do this? They still show us Oma and Shu wearing red and blue? All they had to do is to give at least one of them any different color. Any. But they didn't. (for fuck sake, it is the Earth Kingdom - yellow and green would do it)

There were zero, no, nada Kataang interactions, implications or those scenes that are filmed just a little bit too dramatically like the scarf one. I don't know, there's still a chance that they will wait for season 3 to make Aang's crush on Katara happen. I'm also not so sure what will happen to Aang failing to open seventh chakra, I mean - his love for Katara has a huge purpose in series, so it still doesn't look very good. But you can't even imagine how glad I am that they didn't do this secret tunnel thing. It was very uncomfortable.

So it was the more fact-based part of my case, let's get to the irrational, almost delusional part, tin foil hat probably needed.

Almost all the scenes Zuko and Katara shared in the first season kept reminding me of another famous enemies-to-lovers ship that actually became canon in the infamous final episode - Reylo, the way it was filmed in The Force Awakens. I mean - the first fight in the woods where she looses, the intensity of him staring at her, the final fight in snowy location where she kicks his ass and shows her mastering this superpower, him trying to talk to her during this fight and mentioning her learning/having to learn...Zuko calling Katara a peasant reminded me of this "Rey is no one" discourse. I don't know man, I haven't thought about The Force Awakens reylo for a very long time and it just kept popping in my head.

All of this - it's like a blueprint for enemies to lovers.

Also I actually think that the look they shared in the 2nd episode was also shot kinda weirdly and dramatically. It's not to the extent of the scarf scene but I do remember thinking that "why did they film it they way? it's too intense".

In the conclusion I'd like to say that as much as I like all the season 1 zutara stuff they left out in the adaptation - necklace subplot and implications, pirates and the famous "You rise with the moon, I rise with the sun" - I think I actually prefer the scarf scene. Yes, it would be so great to see those things in adaptation but in the end of the day they would still be just the things they kept from the original and probably noting more. Like the cabbages or the secret tunnel song or anything else, just things from the source material that implicate nothing. While the scarf scene, the Oma and Shu's clothes - it means they made a conscious decision to make it that way. It means they put some thought into that and some meaning. And this gives me hope there's a chance for Zutara in this adaptation.

P.S. I told about this my sister who hasn't watch the series yet and she said "I think people who made this show are just shipping zutara in secret". I do not necessarily imply she might be right - but creators of animated series (the very same people that made kataang canon, not zutara) DID leave because of some creative differences and because they couldn't control creative decision. Might as well be THAT kind of decision.

[thenightshadowqueen]

The best character from each longform

(in my biased opinion)

This is (obviously) a long one, so if you do want to read it, more below.

(Also I left out the Patreon plays. I might do a separate post for them later; we’ll see.)

Jimmy (Tom, Toby’s Secret Pocket)

Look, Jimmy is the best. He’s adorable. He’s the representation we as the autistic community needed. He has happy flappy stimmy hands. He can’t walk through doors. We love him. (STOPINTHENAMEOFTHELAW!!!!!)

André Beetroot (AJ, Burglary and Bobsledding)

André Beetroot (André Beetroot) was iconic the first time around, but his return as the first recurring SFTH character obviously had to be memorialised.

The boy witch (Sam, Moist and Magical)

I was tempted by the witchfinder general, but the boy witch won out with “Henry Cavill with a wasting disease” and his thick accent. Also the cheeky little look he gives his grandma (Luke) when he flips her off wins him a lot of points.

Hugh’s mum (Tom, Marigolds Bluebells and Hugh)

She’s, like, a fair bit unhinged, but she has good intentions. She’s got amazing quotes, too; “why couldn’t you have just stayed in my womb forever” and “if you love something, lock it up” are both deeply concerning, but I love them.

The wife (Tom, Murders in Space)

This one is kind of an obvious choice. I mean, her quotes are glorious, and honestly “have you ever heard of feminism, James?” gets her top spot automatically.

Mario the sheep (Sam, the Lighthouse)

Was this even a question? I love Mario intending to be a one-scene character and then being forced to star in the whole play. I love the human bits. I love “🐑fuck you🐑”. I love the sheep (aka Sam) having a fucking breakdown at the end. 10/10 all around.

Titch (Luke, the Unrelenting Aubergine)

Listen, I was very tempted by Old Lady Margery (and by Derek), but in the end, canon queer guy with commitment issues and insane amounts of blindness around his own feelings won out. What can I say, I have a type in fictional characters.

Troll Son (Luke, Wine Under the Bridge)

Everything about this character is perfect. Screaming as hello? Colourful troll as a metaphor for being queer? Correcting a geography fact? It’s got it all. It’s perfect. I love Troll Son and his wine bar in Ipswich.

Juliet (AJ, Caesar and Juliet)

Is anyone surprised? She’s a murderous girlboss. “[My mother] said you have to be careful about men; they can be corrupted with power. But what she didn’t know is that so can woman.” They can, and I’m here for it. She’s bathing in blood and her skin is glowing. I love insane women.

Watson (Sam, the Mystery of the Midnight Circus)

Watson, driven mad with grief over his divorce and his one-sided love for Sherlock, becomes a murderous clown. Am I supposed to not love this? Is there even another choice in this play? And his breakdown at the end was gorgeous.

Priscilla (AJ, Pricilla’s Final Petal)

I was very tempted by both of her mums, and also a bit by the groundsman, but ultimately, Priscilla won out. She’s the title character. She’s confused, but she’s got the spirit, and she’s working through her trauma with a buttercup and a piano lesson. Good for her.

Marty (Sam, the Evil Make-a-Wish Kid)

I considered the seven-year-old detective, but in the end, Marty won. He’s evil. He’s a make-a-wish kid. What more can I say? He’s got an iconic smirk. He burns down all the petting zoos on the entire planet (and his mum). He dies at the end. He’s brilliant.

Derek (Tom, Susan’s Holiday)

There were a lot of great options in this one, but “I like looking at the back of another man’s head” was too good to pass up. Also, I adore the whole monologue he has while he’s waiting to be buzzed in.

The gasoline salesman (Luke, Beetroots and Murder)

Okay, I know he’s only in, like, a quarter of a scene. I know that. And I can’t tell you why I love him so much but I do. He’s just. I just love him. I can’t explain it. There are so many great characters in this play, but the way he says “could be, could be” has captivated me. If you understand the way my brain works, please contact me, because I don’t.

Peter Steven (Tom, the Milkman)

I love so many characters in this play. I love Gareth, and I love the Texan bartender, and I love David the milkman. But Peter Steven is the sweetest, most traumatised little boy and I want to protect him. I will adopt him and I will never make him walk on his knees again. I will throw away the PS5 and I will let him dig up the back garden as many times as he wants.

Johnny and Janae (Luke and Tom, the Neighbour’s Under the Bed)

I know they’re two separate characters, okay, but they’re a set. I want to keep them together. And I just can’t choose, okay? They’re two autistic children whose neurodivergence presents in opposite ways, and their parents don’t know what to do with them, and oh look, I’m back to wanting to adopt traumatised children.

Captain Egbert (Luke, the Leftenmost Window)

Shoutout to the mum, but Egbert won this one. He’s, like, kind of an idiot. I’m here for it, though. He’s got the iconic “diluileayilybilyeilysilym” speech. He wants to go to the ~astral plane~ but he’s waiting for his birthday. He lets his wife dip him into a kiss even though it’s 1940. I love him.

The king (Sam, the Prime Minister’s First Day)

Listen, I love several characters from this one, but I’m going with this one. He’s unapologetically a dick. He wears impenetrable armour made from diamonds stolen from Indian subculture. He’s impossible to beat. He’s brilliant. (Also did anyone else kind of find Sam hot as the king or is that just me?)

Franz Haberburg (Sam, the Excited Chinchilla)

Obviously fuck Nazis (god I hope that’s obvious). That being said, some of SFTH’s best characters are Nazis, and this is one of them. He’s glorious. I have never seen such a brilliant rendition of a Nazi chinchilla.

The Italian detective (Tom, the Ingredients)

He can’t pronounce paella. Do I need another reason?

Chip (Sam/AJ, the Cardboard Stegosaurus)

Oh look, another traumatised child! I want it. (No, but seriously, I love Chip and his English/French seizures.) Also he’s one of the few characters who switches actors mid-play, and I love that.

Persephone (Tom, Wild Wet and Worrisome)

She’s amazing. “HEY!” is a gorgeous siren call and don’t let anyone tell you otherwise. She deserved a happy ending and I’m still sad we didn’t get one. I like to think she swam to the shore and found Geoff again, and they lived happily ever after on a boat at sea, singing and not having to kill anyone.

Full Set O’Hands and his love/bother (Luke and Tom, No! I Always Loved that Caravan)

I know, I know, another set of characters, but you really can’t separate these two. They’re insane. I adore them. They’re just… Honestly, these two are comedy gold. Good for them because they are fucking timeless.

Andrew (Luke, All Eyes on Nigel)

Listen, Andrew is a naive little thing, and he must be protected at all costs. He goes through so much shit in this one, and I just want to wrap him up in a blanket and send him to rehab.

Magnus O. Puss (Tom, BUS)

Okay, this was a VERY close one between them and Arthur B. D., but Magnus is a genderqueer icon and we love them for it. Also, I feel like this is some of the most unhinged Tom content we have and I live for that.

Jeremiah (Luke, Inside the Mysterious Cube)

I was so torn because I love Bubba, too, but I’m trying to avoid putting sets of characters where possible, and Jeremiah just edged past Bubba because his death scene was gorgeous. (That is a mildly concerning reason to have a favourite, I will admit.)

Lord Lafayette (Tom, the Midnight Mystery)

You may be noticing a pattern; I adore Tom’s insane characters. We just don’t get to see that often enough. I love his very sexual flirting with Lady Lafayette (Sam). I love him making fun of the detective’s (Luke’s) shirt. I love “what does any self-respecting rich man do when he has a little boy in tights” followed by “captured—and only captured” as a save. I love him.

Dangerfield (AJ/Tom/AJ again, Once Upon a Time I Killed Mum)

I love the confusion when Tom briefly takes over as Dangerfield; it’s not often we get to see AJ understanding something that Sam doesn’t (I say this with all the love in the world). Dangerfield is so fascinating to me. He’s a “cleaner” for a crime lord, but he has mixed feelings about the things he does. I want to know how he got into it in the first place. How did he come into this life? I want to know.

Barry’s wife (AJ, the Hare who Wore a Sweater)

I don’t remember her having a name, but I could be wrong about that. She’s so sweet; she just wants to knit sweaters for the hares in peace. And then Jimmy the hare gets shot, and she and her husband go on a revenge plot. I’m here for it. I love her.

The king/tank commander (AJ, the Oopsie Daisy Bulge)

He’s obsessed with tanks. He used to have gay sex with his fellow tank commanders, but only as a joke. He sailed all the way around, through the other landlocked counties, into the east of France, and they never saw it coming. He drove tanks into the ocean. He’s so stupid he’s almost smart. I love him.

The landowner/farmer (Luke, Too Big to Be a Jockey)

He farms peasants (Luke, you genius). He’s such a dick, with his classist remarks about Johnny Jones, but somehow I love him anyway. His interview process is looking at a photo of someone and then hiring them, and he’s honestly wonderful. I love him.

Larry (Tom, Long Johns—Strike!)

Literally the only thing he does on screen is die. That’s it. That’s his whole purpose. And he does it beautifully.

Wizard Asceroth (Sam, the Dark Moons of Slough)

ASCEROOOOTTTHHHH!!! (I don’t have another reason. I don’t need another reason.)

The French waiter (Luke, Lost in Your Eyes)

I don’t know. I really don’t. But something about this character has stuck with me since the first time I watched it. Gorgeous accent. He kisses Amanda (Sam) for no reason at all. He gets stabbed by a gun. I love him.

The Lady of a Thousand Don Juans (Luke, the Meringue Haberdashery)

She tricked her husband for years. She murdered her own child. She has been a curse on all the Don Juans in this town. She’s one of the only villains who win at the end of a longform, and that’s very impressive. I love her.

Xavier (Tom, Oh my God is This a Joke?)

(Please refer to my previous statement about Nazi characters.) Okay, look. He’s a horrible person. But we as a fandom choose to disregard that because Tom looks amazing in a leather jacket and scarf. I am not above this. I am, in fact, a part of this. Tom looks amazing in a leather jacket and scarf. “I will die as I have lived…. Shirtless!” has to be one of the most iconic lines of all time. There was never any competition.

[3vln]

Ravens and Stallions: Ch. 1

Pairings: D. Blackwood x Bracken!Reader

Words: 3,800+

C.W.: probably needs LOTS of revisions. lots of time-inaccurate privileges (ladies allowed in taverns?? modern dilly-dallying), lots of cringe-worthy moments trying to add Westerosi/British slang into the mix (would love help on this) OCs, enemies-to-lovers, Romeo & Juliet-esque, non-canon stuff, no smut yet but will have (so MINORS DNI) My Lady Jane-type of banter.

Summary: Someone’s broken heart is how the day got started; for someone else, it was how it ended.

There was nothing special about meeting the Blackwood boy, at first. And he thought the same about you. It wasn’t love at first sight, or anything like that. But it was a gradual thing as you both got to know each other throughout the evening. It was a meeting by chance.

See, your respective friend groups had taken you both out to the nearby town of Harroway for some drinks; for the Blackwood boy, he’d heard talks about war looming, and the time to enjoy his livelihood, and his time being alive… well, he knew it would be short. He needed to make the days he had on Earth count.

And you, you were staying at your aunt’s house in Harroway to accompany your heartbroken friend to get drinks with a few others. While you weren’t someone who usually snuck out to drink, and had a good head on your shoulders, times like these where you enjoyed yourself were few and sparse. It was easier to obtain forgiveness from Aunt Jeyne than to ask your parents for permission.

So, as you were drinking your wine and comforting your distraught friend with the others, you briefly met, unbeknownst to you, the eyes of a rival.

“He had used me! I know he did, that rat bastard!” your wailing friend had choked out, snapping your attention to her. The other two friends made agreeable comments to comfort their hurting friend. In a loud tavern full of bustling noises, no one else had paid attention to her besides the friend group. It drowned out the quiet sobs and prevented any unnecessary attention.

You tried to encourage her with words of affirmation in an effort to lighten up her mood, it pained you to find close ones in pain, especially if it could have been prevented. “Lyanne, you can’t let that boy dictate how you live your life,” you heartened. The others agreed and chimed in with more affirming reflections. You eyed the table’s supply of wine and ale and sighed. “Moon tea will serve you best if it interests you, and please pray to the Maiden. Let’s get you another round of drinks for now; what do you say?” Lyanne wasn’t much of a devout, but she still took the advice to heart; smiling through her sad smile and teary eyes, she reminded herself to thank her friend later.

As you got up, another from the friend group joined you, making small talk about the unfortunate girl’s heartbreak and thanking you for joining them and for bringing fun and reason into the conversation.

“Although, I really think she should look into another man’s arms for comfort,” she mentioned coyly upon arrival to the bar.

“Bellena!” you quietly exclaimed with a smile before turning your back to order. You were too lost in your blush but thought about agreeing. Truth be told, it wasn’t a terrible idea. Not the best and ladylike, but nonetheless. Crying over failures was futile, and it was best to occupy perplexed thoughts with distractions.

An unfamiliar voice behind you tried for an unsolicited introduction between you both with a “Lost are we, ladies?” You quietly exchanged unimpressed looks.

A man with a sly grin had presented himself, mostly towards your friend; while weak of an introduction, yes, you saw Bellena’s gears start to work, most likely thinking of ways to see how she could use this to their advantage.

It was beautiful to see her magic work in real time, as she smiled sweetly, flirted with her eyes, and informed the man they’ve come for sweet libations from handsome men. “I see we’ve come to the right place,” she added. They maintained a bit of prolonged eye contact and, truthfully, you couldn’t fault either.

Bellena, of House Piper, was a natural beauty. Dark, cherry-red hair adorned her, and she truly embodied her house words of “Brave and Beautiful.”

The man before her was tall and handsome, Dornish-looking in a way – dark skin and thick eyebrows. You weren’t sure what house he was from, but Bellena thought it didn’t matter on nights like these. No one was dressed for battle and expressed their house colors tonight. The ladies themselves were anonymous in a way, dressed as common folk or servants having the night off to avoid the attention if dressed in their usual silks.

Banter and flirtatious remarks were exchanged between them, and soon after, Bellena successfully got the man to pay for the next rounds, allowing him and his friends to join your table at the tavern.

You both exchanged another look - this time, a silent acknowledgement in maidenhood: if anything happened that wasn’t welcomed, you’d all be quick to collect the other 2 ladies sitting at the table, and quickly exit.

This was an acknowledged risk, and for Lyanne above all.

“For the lore,” a phrase you all repeated and clinked your first drinks to.

“Miss?” The bar tender called for you, snapping you back to the present, “the drinks.”

As the man waved for his friends to join you, and as you moved towards the drinks, a familiar face you had seen a moment ago reached out to them before you, “Oh!”

“Let me get these for you,” he offered with a lazy smile.

You eyed him suspiciously, but offered back a polite smile.

“Davos, mate! Ever the gentleman. Follow us,” Aron, you soon learned, called out ahead.

Bellena quickly introduced him and his company, and ensured at least one of you had someone to talk to and talk about - especially Lyanne, whom the girls wanted to see enjoy herself and meet someone new.

Times like today, you weren’t fully mentally prepared to meet new people or anyone outside of whom you thought about spending the evening with. Quickly downing your drink as you sit next to Lyanne, you hope it quickly loosens you up to conversation. But to your surprise, you found that Davos, from at the end of the table, had noticed this quick moment and looked at you with a mix of surprise and, ultimately, awe – nodding his head in approval. You looked away in embarrassment, not expecting the attention.

“What brings you pretty lot out here to Harroway anyway?” one of them asks.

The ladies took a moment to respond, sheepishly looking around at each other with embarrassed smiles, debating if an elaborate story should be told or flat out explain the story in which they’re here for their broken-hearted friend.

“Well...” it was a tricky position. They didn't want to reveal themselves, but the ladies didn't know where to begin.

One of them snickered. “Don’t tell us you’re all out having a naughty night out and running away from home,” Davos joked as he took a drink from his pint. “I’d be quite intrigued if that was the case.”

The cherry-haired girl chuckled at the irony and nodded towards you, “Oh, you’d be surprised. Have you met my dear friend over here? I think you’d be quite smitten with her.”

In this moment, you remembered thinking and wishing for the Earth to open up and swallow you whole, and created a mental note to strangle the girl in front of you as you cover your face with your hands.

“Oh? A runaway, I fear?” he teases.

“Absolutely not,” you shook your head, quickly thinking of ways to explain yourself. “I had only wished for some fresh air and found myself in this tavern before I knew it. I’m sure we’ve all been there before.” Not your finest.

“Oh! Oh, yes!” He teasingly agreed, nodding with a sarcastic smile. “I was out with these lads having a drink, and before I knew it, my feet had taken a mind of their own and found myself here. I’m glad I’ve found my people.”

“Precisely.”

He chuckles as he rolls his eyes and takes another sip from his pint.

-

The rest of the evening was followed by more laughter and banter from both ends, surprised at how well things were going and the ladies having fun and comfortable, the heartbroken girl had even rallied back together from her earlier state; and even though you weren’t contributing to much conversation, you were relaxed as long as everyone else was having a grand time. You looked down at your drink, almost gone, and while you weren’t inebriated, you figured it was time for some fresh air.

Absent-mindedly, you excused yourself from the table, and upon leaving to venture outside, you weren’t prepared to see Lyanne perched up outside against the tavern walls towards a quiet corner, in the middle of a passionate kiss with the man whom she had been speaking with.

Quickly hiding back behind the wall, hand on your chest and the other over your mouth, a peal of laughter creeps up as you try to hold against it, afraid of being caught or heard. You were wondering where she had gone after missing from the table for some time. Now you know where. You made a mental note to hold court with her and the other girls soon to debrief on the day’s events.

“There you are.”

You looked to the entrance of the alehouse and saw the man who had helped you with the drinks walk up. You offered him a greeting with a biting smile.

He seemed amused by your reaction. “I see we’re in need of some fresh air?”

You nodded as you bit your lip, holding back a giggle. “Well, that was the plan. But I see that we’re not the only ones who need fresh air.”

He looked at you curiously until he looked around the corner and saw the offending sight. He looked at you with shock, his mouth hanging in disbelief with his lips turned up, “Seven hells!”

You nodded to reaffirm you were equally as shocked. He looked over again, feigning the same shocked reaction, but this time he furrowed his eyebrows, face growing stern, “Wait, that’s not alright.” He touched your shoulder, as if to excuse himself as he made himself visible to the offending couple, “Ey! Get your vile tongue off her! And treat her like a lady - get a room!”

There was a “Piss off!” in the distance, and you couldn’t help but laugh at the entertaining interaction between Davos and his friend. He let out a chuckle as he ran his tongue over the side of his teeth, returning the response with an offending finger towards the distant man.

“The boldness of that lad, huh?” he returned his attention back to you.

You shrugged, “I hope this doesn’t make me a bad friend, but I’m glad she’s having fun.”

He raised his eyebrows as he scanned you down, “And you call that having fun?” You roll your eyes as you push yourself off the wall.

“Calm down. All I’m saying,” you emphasize, “is that I’m glad that she’s not sad anymore.”

“Hm. Care to elaborate?”

You looked at him curiously, looking at the way he was genuinely interested in conversation as he crossed his arms and leaned against the wall towards you. Relaxed eyes looking down at you, dark irises gleaming despite the twilight sky. You thought about how sweet he looked – kind of handsome in a rugged and boyish way, his choppy bangs framing his face. It almost made you uneasy how interested he looked.

Clearing your throat and looking away, you entertained the conversation and started to walk around the alehouse – both attentive to not disturbing the lovebirds – and although you were careful not to reveal too much about yourself, it was nice to talk about your friend groups and your interests with someone who was interesting, of substance, and someone who understood your humor. This was a stark contrast to the suitors that your mother had wanted you to meet. Most conversations had fallen flat, or lacked sympathy, or intelligence for that matter.

Davos was careful to maintain a respectful distance, cautious to not make any unnecessary touches, which was something you appreciated. You began to take a liking to him because of that.

“What about you?” you asked as you both made your way to the distant trees that offered quietness - polar to the noisy tavern inside. “What do you like?”

He sheepishly smiled. A thought formed in his head about whether he should take a bold move or stay conservative. “Not a lot of things, truth be told.” He looked away. “But I know I like something when I feel it,” he finished, his head turning to you with a lopsided smile.

Taken aback, you hope the blush creeping up doesn’t betray you, and silently nod.

A beat of silence follows, and a look of realization falls on his face as he stands tall from leaning against the tree he had just made himself comfortable on. His face, now beet red, distorts with ideas to make conversation out of, “I hope that wasn’t too forward, I’m sorry, it’s just that you’re very pretty with a pretty laugh, and I think you’re a very nice girl and funny too, and I like you and…” strings of words came together to fill the silence, and you look at him in awe and curiosity at how fast he’s able to talk, wondering if he’ll ever catch a breath for talking fast.

As he continued, you made a forward move to place your hands on him in hopes of calming him, holding his face in one of your palms, “Davos… Davos!” you try. His face was warm, you didn’t realize how bony his cheekbones were as you brushed your thumb against his cheek.

Eventually, realizing your hands were on him, he slowed down. “Right, uhh, yes, sorry,” he breathed as he calmed.

“Thank you,” you chuckled. “I thought something had possessed you,” you laughed. A beat of silence. “But that was sweet.”

You forgot your hands were still on him caressing his cheeks until he placed his hands on top of yours, something you were unprepared for, but nonetheless welcomed.

Another beat of silence. “You have very soft hands,” he murmured as he closed his eyes and kissed the inside of your palm, then leaned into it. Oh.

When he opened his eyes, he studied you and smiled, “You are very pretty,” he said softly. Oh!

Something in you grew, your heart, or your chest, or something. It was almost consuming. Was it the way he had kissed your palm? Or the way he outright told you how pretty you look? Or the endearing way his thoughts dispersed and he babbled on? A bit of everything, you supposed. It was too forward, but it was nice, it was a nice feeling; foreign, and a bit uncomfortable from it being all new to you, but you welcomed it with a smile, curious to see how this unfolds.

You don’t remember exact details but you remember thinking about the scar above his lip, touching it lightly with your fingers, and the electrifying feeling of his lips meeting yours. The butterflies in your stomach swelled, making their way towards your chest, and your blood pumping with nervousness and excitement as you ventured into a foreign experience.

It felt good to be wanted, the way his hands snaked around your waist, and the way the kiss had started off soft, innocuous, and tender, and how it lent its way to become more profound, and almost sinful.

He was careful to not make any more offending moves, and that made you want him even more; one of your hands now having a mind of their own, snaking their way to comb his hair behind his head between your fingers. You clocked a small grunt leaving him as you tugged his hair a little, his arms pressing you closer to him, and a heat spreading through you, legs seconds from turning jelly and letting him mold you.

You needed to catch your breath – this was becoming too much, and you weren’t expecting any of what had just unfolded. Still interlocked in each other’s arms, a shy laugh left you both.

You shared a comfortable silence in each others arms after some time. And you, dare say thanked? the gods for giving you a lovely moment to live on.

“You know,” breaking the silence after a while as he held on to your waist, “that was quite a feat what you did back there with your drink.”

You quizzically looked at him as you toyed with the locks behind his ear, “hmm?”

“When you chugged your drink. Faster than the northern winds.”

“Oh, was that what first caught your attention?”

“Mmmm, that and your pretty face.”

You rolled your eyes, blushing. “You never told me what you didn’t like,” you murmured in an effort to change the conversation.

To that, the man bobbed his head side to side. “That may be a longer list,” he grimaced.

You heartily chuckle, “I may have the time for it.”

He smiled, “Well, for the basics, what I despise–”

“Oh, we’re starting out heavy.”

“Hah, mmm, well, maybe…” he grinned, and he indeed shared a long list of things, a lot of it personal things that are beyond surface-level that made him his own unique being; and more minor, funny things that he thought were inconveniences.

You really did admire him for being someone who isn’t afraid of vulnerability. It felt like a breath of fresh air. And the attentiveness!

You brushed your thumb over his cheek, with him leaning into it as he continued to list out the things he passionately disliked. He was a man of passion, you soon found out. To your surprise, you've come to found out you like this trait. And surely he's someone you'd be interested in if he were interested in pursuing you. You just needed to find an opening in this conversation with your parents once you learn of Davos' parentage.

And just as you thought about opening up about your family, he’s beaten you to it, and a part of you shatters.

“… ah! And Brackens.”

Huh? You turn to him, “I beg your pardon?”

A million thoughts ran through your head, maybe you misheard? Were we back to talking about our his likes? Enjoyments? Gods be good, are we family? A horror strikes your face. All thoughts race, all leading to the shared kiss.

You looked at him, warm relaxed eyes looking back at you – unaware, unassuming. A piece of you has broken, you think.

He shrugged, “Aye, Brackens. Cravens, the lot of them. I think they’re a bunch of good-for-nothing–”

Another shatter. “I’d be careful with your next words.” You dropped your arms away from him as you sternly held your ground, ready to bite back and defend your gold-and-red coated family. The worst has dawned on you, and disgust has overtaken. No, no, no, no!

Confused and a bit hurt, he studied you and nodded with a frown, finally piecing the puzzle together.

A pregnant silence takes over before he takes a deep breath. “I take it you’re Bracken?”

“Proudly.”

He continued nodding his head and rested his hands on his hips, “Then we’re definitely in a bit of a situation.”

You rolled your eyes, “there’s no situation.” Definitely not after the revelation. It couldn't be allowed. Wouldn't.

“Oh really? This moment we had–”

“We had no moment.”

“- kinda looked like a situation… Right. Well.”

You scoffed. “Davos, do me a favor, forget this ever happened.” It had to. If he was willing to say something about your family, what were the chances of him treating you any better? This was nothing but a flirtatious evening. It was going so well, until it wasn’t, especially when speaking in the matters of family. You couldn’t allow yourself to think beyond this moment, of the what ifs. You had to ensure he understood that and cut it off before anything more began. You looked him in the eye and stood your ground.

There was a darkness in his eyes now, surely hurt after being told to forget this moment with someone whom he wanted to explore a prospect with. He thought about the possibility of apologizing, asking for forgiveness, and although too soon, he'd thought about facing the challenges that involved asking for your hand from a family that wouldn’t welcome him in the first place.

But upon hearing your words, it snapped him out and brought him down to reality. Of course, there was no future, much less a moment of truce between the opposing Houses. This was a feud as old as time. So he did what he did best, and put up a wall around him that had forced him to spit insults, regretfully projecting his own hurt. “Forget? How could I forget the moment I discovered an almost civilized Bracken?”

Oh. This had turned around rather quickly. “Almost? Coming from a Blackwood, that’s a compliment.” Unexpected, but you saw this invitation to pass insults, and determined to not lose this battle, you wanted to hurt him if he was going to act this way.

“Don’t let it get to you. You might start thinking you’re actually interesting.”

I beg your pardon? “Interesting enough to catch your attention, apparently,” you spit, “Or is your recollection as poor as your judgment?”

He leaned in closer, towering over you. “My judgment might be questionable, but at least I don’t deceive people to have fun.”

Crossing your arms, you looked at him lamely with an arched eyebrow, “Oh that’s rich, I didn’t know Raventree Hall had a jester. Is that a Blackwood trait or just your own special talent?”

He stood mere inches away from your face and your stomach was back to making butterflies, but you refused to showcase anything other than annoyance, you were determined to have the last word.

Giving you a once-over, he chuckled, clearly over this, “It’s called charm, something I’m not afraid to use again,” he murmured.

A sound of disgust leaves your lips as you turn around and march back to the tavern, “Enjoy your delusions, Blackwood.”

Davos, back to leaning against the tree, smiled to no one in particular as he would enjoy his delusions. “And you, Bracken; enjoy your illusions.”

On your march back, you were too focused on holding back from vomiting and feeling your emotions, bottling them up and storing them far away. Just as you thought you found someone on your own, it had to be someone you couldn’t have and someone who was willing to insult your family.

You collected the rest of your friends, much to Bellena and Lyanne’s chagrin, and marched back home to your Aunt Jeyne’s place before it got too dark. It was then that you fully settled into your emotions, thought about the shared kiss, how sweet it was, and silently sobbed.

You ended the night with a broken heart.

[switchypanic]

One Last Trust Exercise || A 'Hazbin Hotel' Tickle Fic

Summary: The night before The Extermination, the hotel crew decides to play a game of truth or dare. After all, what do they have to lose? They'll probably all be dead the next day anyways. However, a few interesting secrets come to light, and the evening takes a surprising turn.

Content Warnings: Canon-typical language and MINOR spoilers for the beginning of episode eight.

Word Count: 2,475 words.

Nobody was excited for what tomorrow would bring. The threat of imminent, painful failure loomed over their heads, unable to be masked by alcoholic beverages or (attempts at) rousing speeches. For them to survive, it was going to take a miracle, and Heaven had not been too keen on giving those out up to that point. However, there was a small bright side to the situation, as hard as it is to believe.

With little left to lose, the hotel staff were oddly relaxed with each other, showing the most affection and open comradery towards one another that Charlie had ever seen from the group. Husk and Angel were sharing drinks and snickering softly to each other at the bar, the former overlord absentmindedly cleaning a few shot glasses as the spider demon watched, barely muffling snickers behind one of his many hands. Whatever the two were joking about was lost on the princess, not that she minded in the slightest.

Nifty was rambling to Cherri Bomb about her newest creation, a morbid adaptation of 'Romeo and Juliet' which utilized the many roaches she had exterminated as puppets, garnering looks of concern and feigned smiles of encouragement from her captive audience. From a few meters away, Alastor listened in silently, his ever present smile somehow even wider than usual, betraying his clear amusement at the situation before him.

And then there was Vaggie, mumbling quiet words of encouragement to Sir Pentious in the far corner of the room, away from any prying ears. The snake demon fiddled with his hat, eyes flickering over to Cherri Bomb, causing his hood to flare open for a moment before he forced it back down with his hands. Charlie couldn't help but giggle; Vaggie wasn't the best at flirting herself, yet she was still trying her best to be a good wingman. If Charlie had thought she couldn't possibly be any more in love with the woman, she was being proven wrong yet again.

Charlie felt a pang of anxious sadness in her heart, knowing that all of the progress they had made could be undone in a single instant tomorrow morning. A single pierce from an exorcist's blade could mean the end, the final end, for any one of them. It could mean the sudden and cruel end of everything they had been working so hard to achieve.

The princess wrung her hands, blinking back tears as she attempted to calm herself down. Getting all worked up in front of everyone wouldn't help matters. No, she needed to do something to get her mind off of tomorrow. Scouring her mind for any ideas, one suddenly came to her, and her usual smile returned in a flash.

Clearing her throat, Charlie climbed atop of the nearby coffee table, careful not to accidentally knock over one of the many whisky glasses left strewn about. "Um, excuse me everyone! Can I have your attempt for a moment?" She yelled.

The various conversations paused, heads turning expectantly towards her.

"I had an idea for one final trust exercise for us to do before tomorrow; truth or dare! Anyone who wants to play is welcome to, but it's totally not mandatory!" Charlie announced. "Like I said, spend tonight however you guys want! I just thought it might be fun for us to-"

"Sounds fun to me!" Angel Dust interrupted, a playful smirk plastered to his face as he got to his feet. "Haven't played that since before I bit the bullet back on Earth. What do you say, Husk? You in too?" The actor asked, glancing over his shoulder at the cat demon.

Husk hummed, seemingly thinking it over. "Aah, what the hell? Why not? Not like I've got much else to do tonight." The bartender replied, shrugging.

Charlie turned her attempt to Nifty, who was bouncing on her toes with excitement. "Oh, I love that game! I love that game!" The short sinner squealed.

Cherri Bomb couldn't help but snort with laughter. "Fuck yeah, I'm in too! Last time I played that, I got to spend ten minutes in a closet with some super hot hellhound!"

From across the room, Charlie noticed Pentious' face go bright red. "I'm afraid I'm not familiar with such a game...but I would be willing to learn!" The snake demon pipped in. "This...Truth Or Dare, as you called it, does sound quite intriguing. How about you, Vagatha? Shall you be joining in as well?"

Vaggie rolled her eyes. "NOT my name, dude. We've been over this. But...yeah, why not?" The former Exorcist shot her girlfriend a gentle smile, and Charlie felt like her heart was going to beat right out of her chest.

Now, it seemed the only one left to answer was...

Charlie turned her attention to Alastor. The overlord hadn't moved from his previous position, though his expression had changed ever so slightly, bearing an emotion that Charlie couldn't quite discern. "Al? What about you?" The princess asked, offering an encouraging smile. "You want to play? No pressure, of course!" She half expected him to say no. Alastor was a private man, and while he often enjoyed messing with others, he didn't seem the type to play a game which could leave him vulnerable in some capacity.

However, to her surprise, the radio host let out a small laugh and quickly strode over to her. "Why not? I'm afraid I'm also unfamiliar with such a game, though I have been told I'm a fast learner!" Alastor replied.

Charlie squealed with excitement, jumping off of the table and ushering everyone forwards. "Great! Alright, everybody get into a circle on the floor!" She instructed, plopping down on the carpet with a soft thud. Vaggie took the seat to her right, as expected, and Nifty to her left. Alastor positioned himself between Nifty and Sir Pentious, the later of which had strategically made sure to claim a seat next to Cherri. Finally, Angel and Husk finished out the circle (were Charlie's eyes deceiving her, or was Husk ever so slightly wrapping a wing around the actor).

The princess clapped her hands with excitement. "Okay, since some of you haven't played before, I'll explain the rules! When the game starts, I'll ask one of you to pick truth or dare. If you pick truth, you have to answer whatever question I ask honestly. If you pick dare, you have to do whatever I dare you to. Once you've done either of those things, it's your turn to ask somebody else!"

Sir Pentious raised a hand. "ANYTHING you ask or dare? What if you wanted me to sign over my soul?" He asked, shooting a distrusting look at Alastor.

Charlie hummed, rubbing her chin thoughtfully. "Good point! I guess it would be a good idea to put some rules in place, just for safe keeping. If there is a truth or dare you really aren't comfortable with doing, use the safeword...apple!"

"And how do we know if somebody is telling the truth?" The snake demon continued, head cocked to the side with curiousity.

"That's the thing, we're working on the honor system! It's up to you guys to stay truthful with us. Remember all of our previous exercises; you can trust everyone here!"

Husk snorted. "Suuure..." He grumbled, also shooting Alastor a nasty look. If the deer demon was bothered by the group's apparent distrust in him, he didn't show it.

"Alright, I'll go first! Hm....Vaggie, truth or dare?" Charlie asked, beaming from ear to ear as she turned towards her girlfriend. The former Exorcist chuckled, shaking her head.

"Truth."

"Okay then, what's your favorite food?" Angel could be heard snickering from across the circle; of course Charlie would pick such a vanilla question.

"Empanadas."

"See?" Charlie squealed with delight. "It's super easy! You'll all get the hang of it in no time! Okay, Vaggie, it's your turn to ask someone!"

"Oookay..." Vaggie slowly glanced around the circle, taking a moment to think before selecting her target. "Cherri, truth or dare?"

The bomb expert grinned impishly. "You kiddin' me? Dare, mate!"

"Then I dare you to...do a cartwheel."

Cherri Bomb scoffed, getting to her feet. "For real? I can do that in my sleep!" She retorted, easily demonstrating her point as she completed the dare with ease. Nifty clapped excitedly, letting out a maniacal giggle.

"Bravo, bravo!"

Cherri looked over to the shorter demoness, chuckling as she sat back down. "Alright, pipsqueak, your turn! Truth or dare?"

The janitor was practically vibrating with excitement. "Oooh, dare! Dare!"

"Then I dare you to give ol' Angie here a taste of the tickle monster treatment, yeah?" Cherri replied, sending a knowing smirk to her friend.

Angel, who had been preoccupied whispering something to Husk, sputtered in shock. "What the fuck? Cherri!" The actor cried out, a look of betrayal on his face. "Did you have to throw me under the bus?!"

The other shrugged. "Sorry, mate! I'm kinda limited on the kinds of dares I'm allowed to give at this bloody place."

Angel's head snapped in Nifty's direction, his heart racing as the tiny cyclops scuttled over to him, giggling with excited glee. "N-Now Nif, we can talk about this, yeah?" A grin was already starting to tug at Angel's lips, and while he leaned back slightly, he made no real effort to get away.

"Sorry, a dare's a dare!" Nifty launched herself forward, nearly knocking the actor onto his back with the force of her movement. The smaller sinner's fingers immediately found their way to Angel's sides, digging in with chaotic zeal. Angel let out a surprised yelp, biting down on his lip in a vain attempt to contain his chuckles.

"Nohoho! Nifty, cohohome on! Lemme gohohohoho!"

"Ah, he doesn't mean that! Just look at him; he's barely fighting back!" Cherri replied, grinning deviously. "Wait, not barely fighting back, more like not fighting back AT ALL."

From across the rug, Charlie was cooing at the endearing sight, and even Vaggie was starting to smile a little.

"Aaw, this is so cute!" The princess gushed.

"You think this is cute? Lil' gremlin ain't even gettin' one of his really good spots. You latch onto one of those, he's DONE FOR." Cherri was determined to fluster the shit out of him, wasn't she?"

Angel's face turned a brilliant shade of pink, his face burrowing into his hands in an attempt to hide itself. "Cheheherri, shuhuhuhuhut uhuhuhup!" He whined. Next to him, Husk couldn't contain the teasing grin tugging at his own lips.

"Well, well. Never would have pegged you as the ticklish type, considering your line of work."

Angel collapsed backwards onto the carpet as Nifty was gently pried off of him by Cherri, supporting his upper body on his elbows. It seemed the brief attack had been enough to satisfy his companion's mischievous streak, though Nifty herself was protesting over her fun being cut short. "Oho, cohohome off it. Everybody's a bit ticklish, ain't they?" He retorted.

"Not me." Husk replied smugly. A burst of laughter rang out from across the circle; it seemed Alastor was finally ready to speak up.

"Now Husker, it's not very nice to lie to one's friends, is it?" The Radio Demon chided, shaking his head in disapproval. The cat demon shot him a glare, wings puffing up slightly.

"I ain't lying!"

Alastor hummed, grin sharpening as a devious glint entered his eyes. "Funny, I seem to remember you rolling on the round, wheezing with laughter during your last shedding season. If I recall correctly, Nifty had decided to take a grooming brush to your wings. Ringing any bells?"

While not especially evident because of his fur, Husk knew that he was blushing up a storm. "You shut it!" He growled, tail flicking back and forth in flustered irritation.

"There's nothing to be embarrased about, Husk! I'm ticklish, and as we all just saw, so is Angel! It's completely normal!" Charlie chimed in, attempting to offer reassurance. "It wouldn't surprise me if everyone here was to some degree!"

"Hey, stop draggin' me into this!" Angel groaned. "Though I suppose she does have a point; I ain't never met somebody who ain't ticklish SOMEWHERE!"

"I'm not!" Nifty said, beaming with pride.

"Yeah, suuure." Cherri chuckled in response, shaking her head.

"I'm afraid little Nifty is quite right; both Husker and I have attempted to tickle her on multiple occasions, to no success." Alastor said, sharing a sharp-toothed smile with the little cyclops. "She seems to be indestructible when it comes to tickling."

Happy to have the conversation directed away from his own sensitivity, Husk nodded. "As much as I hate to say it, Smiles is right on that front. The girl's a walking fortress; no cracks in the foundation."

Noticing that Sir Pentious had been oddly quiet, Vaggie gave him a gentle nudge. "How about you?" She asked, wanting to ensure the snake demon felt included.

Pentious flinched, hood flaring out slightly. "Who, me?" He chuckled nervously. "Why, the great Sir Pentious isn't ticklish! It would be rather unbecoming of a villain such as I, would it not?"

"Not necessarily. Anyone can be ticklish, even villains." Charlie said gently.

Angel Dust snorted with laughter. "You say that, but somehow I have a hard time picture Al rolling on his ass and laughin' up a storm!" The actor butted in, pointing an accusatory finger at the overlord. "What IS the deal with YOU, huh? You got anything your wanna admit to the group?"

The faint sound of buzzing radio static could be heard lingering in the air. "Me? Why, I don't see how that's any of your business, is it?" Alastor replied, head cocking to the side as if to challenge the other demon.

"That ain't a no." Angel retorted with a small smirk.

Nifty jumped to her feet, waving her arms about excitedly. "Oh, oh! He is! He is! This one time, I-" The little demoness was cut off as Alastor scooped her up, pressing a palm against her mouth.

"Now, now, my dear! Some things are best left a secret, hm?"

"No fuckin' way, I wanna hear it!" Angel leaned forward, eyes narrowing playfully. "Go on, Nif! Tell us aaall about it!" As Nifty squirmed in Alastor's hold, frantic talking could be heard muffled behind his hand. A moment later, Alastor suddenly released his grip, lip curling as he recoiled in disgust.

"Did you just LICK my hand?!"

Charlie knew she should probably put a stop to things before they got too crazy; that she should redirect the group back to the game. However, seeing the pure, silly interactions they were having, she just couldn't bring herself to do it. After all, why not let them have their silly little squabble?

After tomorrow, it could be a good, long while before any of them could relax again.

[lowkeychenle]

the 1 [NJM] (M)

Description: Six years ago, you decided to move away to a different country to go to school. The catch? You had to leave Jaemin behind, and you refused to drag him along. Now you're back and, for some reason, he doesn't quite seem to hate you in the way you thought he would.

(this is inspired by the Taylor Swift song by the same name, listen to it here)

Genre: Fluff/Smut/Angst TRIPLE THREAT (?? am i okay)

Content Warnings: Explicit sex, break ups, the angst isn't too bad I don't think. Just break up stuff l o l (also don't judge any typos or repetitions I didn't edit this because I wrote this whole thing today someone save me from myself) (also also I am totally working on all requests still, I just get random inspo sometimes and when it hits, it hits)

Word Count: 10,012 (yoo for why did I make this so long help)

Pairing: Na Jaemin x Reader (this is a non-canon AU, Jaemin is a lil businessman and the rest of Dream make appearances here. PS, Best Friend!Donghyuck y'all)

Juliet's Masterlist

Honestly, you never thought you’d make your way back to Seoul. Not when you didn’t have much to come back to. Leaving for college was the scariest decision you’d ever made, but you’re so much better off for it. The experience of living in another country—even if it just for school—is the best thing you’ve ever done.

But Seoul is home. Home is where the heart is, and yours has always resided here, even long after you left. You wonder about the friends you left behind, knowing you haven’t been the best at keeping up with them.

You especially think of Jaemin. The two of you were both twenty-two when you left and, at the time, you would’ve said you were in love with him. You’d been dating for a year before you made your decision.

You don’t think of him in a way that you still have feelings for him, but rather, you want the best for him. If anything, you want to know he’s been as successful as you after you walked away from him.

“America?” Jaemin raises his eyebrows, recoiling at the thought. “I mean, that’s a great opportunity, but wouldn’t it be hard?”

“Of course, it’ll be hard. I think I need to do this before it’s too late for me.” You look down at your hands to avoid eye contact with him. The last thing you want to do is break his heart. Hell, you’ll be breaking your own, too. But being in love with Jaemin doesn’t mean you have to stop everything going on in your life to make sure you keep him.

“How long?” he asks.

“The standard degree path is four years over there, but it could take longer.”

He pauses, gulping. “Wow. You’ll be gone for four years?”

“Yeah.” You pick at your nails and clear your throat. “This is…This is a once in a lifetime opportunity, Jaem. I can’t miss it.”

“I know. I wouldn’t want you to. Um, I guess I’m just nervous as to what that means for us.”

“I love you.” You reach for his hand, intertwining your fingers. “I love you so much, but I can’t ask you to wait for me for four years. Or longer.”

“It’s not like we won’t talk. We have calls, FaceTime, we have everything. However long you need, we’ll work it out.” He tilts his head. At your hesitation, worry spreads across his face.

“I…I don’t know if I’ll come back at all, is what I mean.” You finally meet his gaze and watch the shock course through him.

“Okay, then I’ll move there, too,” he replies, as if it were simple. His forehead wrinkles as he frowns. “If that’s what you want, I can do that. We’ve only been together a year, (Y/N), that’s not long enough for me. I need forever. I promised you forever and I meant it.”

“I won’t ask you to do that.” You shake your head, feeling your eyes well with tears. “Your family’s here. Your friends. We both know you wouldn’t want to move away from your mom forever.”

Jaemin lets out a short breath, tugging his hand away from yours and running it through his hair. “So that’s it? There’s no way I can convince you?”

“You deserve someone who wants the same things you do. The same life. If I can’t give that to you, someone else will. I love you, but sometimes, love isn’t always enough if we’re being pulled in different directions.”

“I won’t just forget about you. You’re just going to disappear?” He wipes away a tear, rolling his eyes.

“You don’t have to forget about me. I’m not forgetting about you. I just need to do something for myself, and I can’t force you along with me.”

The barista jolts you from your trance, asking you if there’s something she can help you with. You clear your throat, hoping you’ll be able to talk past the lump in your throat. After ordering your favorite coffee, you stand off to the side to wait for it.

The door dings behind you, but you think nothing of it. You continue about your business, checking your phone for the time and waiting for your drink. A message comes through from your friend Donghyuck asking if you’d gotten everything settled already.

You and Jaemin had the same friend group. That’s how you met, actually. Donghyuck brought you over to one of their group hang outs, and you and Jaemin clung to each other like glue. It was inevitable that you two would end up dating, and when you did, literally not one of them were surprised.

You send him a quick message back saying everything’s good, and then the barista calls your name. Smiling at her, you walk up to grab the steaming hot cup. Nearly groaning to yourself about how good it smells, you turn around to walk toward the door.

That’s when you see him.

Jaemin.

You haven’t seen him in years. Sure, you still had each other on social media, but you never went out of your way to look at him. Five years has done him well and, at first, you’re unsure if you should say anything. He’s staring right at you, but it doesn’t feel like an invitation. It feels weird.

He’s clearly not the same Jaemin he was, but he’s Jaemin.

And right when you think he’s going to storm off in the other direction and want nothing to do with you, he smiles widely and approaches you. His smile is as gorgeous as it was before, maybe even more so. Normally, this would do little to bother you. You two ended on somewhat good terms, so there’s no reason for either of you to be holding a grudge all this time later.

He wears black pants with a pale pink button-down tucked into them. There isn’t another word to describe him other than divine. He looks good. 

With his hands buried in his pockets, he makes his way over. “I thought that was you.”

“Yeah, it’s me.” You laugh shortly, surprised that you don’t feel too awkward now that he’s in front of you. “Wow, how long has it been?”

As if you don’t know.

“Five years?” he says it like a question. “It hasn’t been that long since we’ve talked though. I guess things are just hard with time zones, aren’t they?”

You give an exaggerated nod. “Totally get that. Well, how have you been?”

“Busy.” He snorts, widening his eyes. “Busy like you wouldn’t believe. Did you end up getting your degree over there? Have you been to see Donghyuck yet?”

“I got the very expensive piece of paper, yes. And I haven’t seen him yet, no. I got back two days ago and have been trying to get things settled before I take a break.” You sip your coffee, almost sighing at the taste of vanilla on your tongue.

“I’m proud of you.” He purses his lips. “Not sure if that means much, but I am. I’m glad it worked out the way you wanted.”

“Thank you. It means a lot, especially from you. What did you decide to do here?” you ask him, tilting your head a bit.

“I’m surprised you didn’t hear,” Jaemin says. “Renjun, Chenle, Jeno, and I opened a business a couple years back. We’ve been doing pretty well, but it doesn’t really leave us with much time for anything else.”

“Holy shit, Jaem, that’s awesome.” You can’t help but grin at him. “I always knew you guys were destined for great things.”

You think back to when you’d hang out with all of them—Jaemin, Mark, Renjun, Jeno, Donghyuck, Chenle, and Jisung. Every Saturday night, you’d all get together for drinks at someone’s house, a constant rotation of happiness, friendship, and pure adoration. You love all of them, albeit in different ways, you feel a strong connection to them all. Being without them for so long has certainly made you nostalgic, but you’re sure you’ll at least see some of them now that you’re back.

You’re not sure if Jaemin will ever be comfortable hanging out with you. Neither of you were particularly bitter in your breakup, but it wasn’t mutual. You didn’t even want it, and he certainly didn’t either. But Jaemin has always been understanding—almost to a fault. He would never ask you to do something if it was against what you wanted to do.

“You know.” He pauses, running his tongue over his teeth. “Are you busy? I’m on my lunch, so if you want to catch up a little, I have the time.”

You hesitate, unsure if it’s a good idea. Before you and Jaemin dated, he was an excellent friend, too. Your only worry at this point is if things will be awkward between the two of you, but it doesn’t seem to be that way yet.

“Yeah, actually.” You take another sip of your coffee, cradling your jacket over your arm to your chest.

He gives you another dazzling smile and gestures over to a small table by the window. “After you.”

You sit down, shrugging your purse from your shoulder and hanging it from the back of the chair. He follows your lead, black hair falling like a curtain over his forehead as he leans forward to bring the seat closer. An odd urge to brush it away overtakes you, but you grab your coffee instead.

Your past with Jaemin is long gone. He’s definitely moved on to bigger, better things, and so have you. Your time in America wasn’t wasted, and you knew from Donghyuck the moment Jaemin moved on from you. It didn’t hurt the way you thought it would. You wanted him happy and cared for, and if you couldn’t do it, you hoped and prayed someone else would.

That was three years ago, but Donghyuck never talked about Jaemin to you again, unless it was something small that happened in a group setting. At that point, you’d also moved on, so as long as he was alive and thriving, you didn’t need to hear about it. Everything was okay.

You’ll always hold an unmatched adoration for the man sitting in front of you. He was your first real love, but everyone knows not everything in your early twenties lasts. It’s true what they say—that you never truly forget your first love. That, and how once you love someone, you’ll always hold some sort of affection for them in your heart.

You tell Jaemin of all the things you got to do in America, and he listens intently. In turn, he tells you about his business and how they grew it from the ground up. It’s one of the largest companies in South Korea, and your heart warms with pride.

Everything you did makes sense. You did it for a good reason. If he had dropped everything and come with you to America, he wouldn’t be doing what he loves. Eventually, you were sure he would’ve grown to resent you if he had gone.

Before you know it, the two of you have been talking for well over an hour. Your coffee is gone, the small bit left at the bottom chilled. On a whim, he checks his watch and recoils in shock.

“Oh shit,” he murmurs. “I’m sorry, I didn’t even realize how long we’d been here.”

“It’s no big deal,” you reply, waving him off. “I’ll get going though.”

“Actually…So the guys and I still do Saturday nights. If you want to come this Saturday, it’s at my place. If you want, I can text you the address.” He taps his fingers on the table.

“Yeah, that sounds like a lot of fun. It’ll be nice to see everyone. I did get a new number though, so let me give it to you.” You reach into your purse for your phone so you can find it. Since you had to switch plans when you moved back, you don’t really know it yet either.

You read it off to him, and he purses his lips while he sends his address to you in a text message. Afterwards, he stands up and brushes off his pants.

“It’ll be just like old times. Jisung is finally old enough to drink, too.” Jaemin chuckles to himself before running his fingers through his hair to push it back. “I’ll see you Saturday? We start at six.”

“Absolutely. I’ll be there.” You watch as he retreats away from you, head held high as he walks out of the coffee shop. He was confident back when you dated, but he’s even more so, and for good reason. No matter what, it’s like he gets increasingly attractive as he ages.

As soon as he’s out of sight, you tap your cheeks to get the slight blush off of them. You didn’t expect to run into him like that, not so soon, but you’re glad you did. Everything happens for a reason, and you’re glad he’s okay with everyone hanging out. You’d hate to lose out on your friends because they have to pick sides.

The encounter stays heavy on your mind even until the next day when you’re supposed to meet Donghyuck for lunch. Your apartment is on the smaller side, since most of your savings was spent to get over here.

The living room is a little under furnished, but it’s nothing you won’t accumulate as time goes on. You have a soft loveseat, a TV mounted to the wall, and a small hallway off to the side that contains your kitchen and all the appliances. Your bedroom is on the left side, big enough only for your bed and a dresser.

You stand in front of the bathroom mirror, trying your best to look at least presentable. You’ve been exhausted lately. Moving countries, across the world, takes a toll on you. At least today is Thursday. You have a job interview tomorrow, and then you’ll get to see your friends on Saturday. Your heart aches for them. They were the best friends you ever had, a complete, close knit group of people who just function so well together. There wasn’t anything else in the world like it.

You go to the small sandwich shop, finding Donghyuck already sitting there waiting for you. His face lights up like a Christmas tree at the sight of you, and his chair scrapes across the floor as he hurries to get up and hug you. He squeezes you so tightly, you almost can’t breathe. You laugh anyway, returning the gesture the best you can.

“My God, I feel like I haven’t seen you in years!” he says, smiling widely. “Shit, you’re not allowed to move out of the country again.”

You roll your eyes, nudging him. “You came to visit six months ago.”

“Six months is still half a year, (Y/N). Never again.”

“Luckily for you, I do plan on staying.” You wait for him to release you before the two of you head over to the line to order.

“Every time I see you, it’s like you’ve grown up more.” Donghyuck fakes a pout, shaking his head. “Look at you, being an adult in the world.”

“Shut your mouth,” you say. “You’re only a year older than me.”

“A year is plenty of time for extra wisdom.” He crosses his arms over his chest, raising his eyebrows like his point is valid.

He orders for both of you, insisting on paying even though you’re about ready to wrestle his wallet out of his hands. It doesn’t matter if you had a billion dollars, he would still insist. That’s always what he’s been for you, your best friend. He takes care of you even when you don’t need it.

“So, when’s your interview?” he asks, accepting the cups from the person at the counter. Handing it to you, he leads you over to the fountain, filling his with Coke Zero.

“I’m glad to see some things never change.” You grin, picking your favorite drink as well. “It’s tomorrow. I’m hoping it works out, because job searching is so tiring.”

“Tell me about it. I’m sure it’ll go great. You’re multilingual and stuff. Employers love that shit.”

Before you respond, the order is ready. You two walk back to your table, conversing back and forth about random things. The conversation takes a turn, and you’re surprised when he actually brings it up.

“Jaemin said he invited you for Saturday.” Donghyuck sips his drink. “Are you going?”

You frown. “Well, yeah. I wouldn’t miss something like that. It’s been too long since I’ve seen everyone.”

“I know that. It’s not weird with you and him, though?”

“Not at all.” You chew the inside of your cheek as you contemplate. “I was worried it would be, but we caught up a little. He seems to be doing really well. If it’s not awkward for him, it won’t be for me. I’d love to be reinstated in the friend group.”

“Reinstated?” He scrunches his nose. “That implies that you were ever un-instated.”

“Is…is that a word?” You chuckle.

“I don’t know. Sounds right to me.” He shrugs, taking a large bite of his sandwich. “I did tell them you were coming back, but also that I didn’t know if you’d be comfortable with that. They all miss you. I swear, Jisung has been talking my ear off asking when we’ll all get together. He’ll be so happy you’re coming.”

Jisung has always been the baby of the group. Even as a full grown adult, you all treat him like a child. He doesn’t complain about it, and he feeds into it probably a bit more than he should. You learn Mark and Donghyuck live together, Jaemin, Chenle, and Jeno live in their own places, and Jisung and Renjun live together. You’re a bit shocked by the last pairing, but you don’t say anything about it.

“Just promise me that if it does get weird, you’ll tell me?”

“I’ll tell you. Promise.” You nod. “I don’t think it will. It was years ago, Hyuck. He moved on, I moved on, and we’re completely different people now. Neither of us are mad.”

“Good. It’ll be nice to have the family back together again.”

After lunch, Donghyuck drives you home. You thank him for the ride, and you head up to your apartment. Regardless of what you say out loud, your brain truly is whirling like crazy after your time with Jaemin.

You didn’t expect seeing him to send you for a loop like this, but you can’t help but think back to how happy you were with him. You two were…something. Maybe not perfect, but it was fun. Magnetic. Passionate. Everything you’ve tried to replicate, even though it’s impossible. No other man could ever be Jaemin.

Your mind drifts off, and you lose yourself in memories.

Saturday nights were a novelty. You sit on Chenle’s couch with Jaemin practically hung over you, the rest of the guys talking simultaneously and incredibly loudly. You didn’t mind it. In fact, you loved it. It reminded you how many people you had by your side, and how many of them were truly like you.

Jaemin kisses your temple, pausing there for a moment. It’s late, and you know he’s getting tired. Even though these are your best friends, you understand his need to wind down after a long night. You bring your wine glass up to your lips, finishing it off.

“Ready?” he asks softly.

You glance over at him and nod, smiling. “Yeah, let me go put this away.”

When you stand up, hardly anyone notices. Chenle and Jisung are basically yelling at each other about something you can’t discern. You laugh when Chenle argues with dramatic hand motions. That’s how you know it’s serious.

You’re pretty sure Renjun has Jeno in a headlock, but you go into the kitchen before you get a good look. It’s a bit quieter in here, and you take a deep breath. You place the glass gently into the sink, closing your eyes and craning your neck back in an attempt to relax. Saturday nights drain you in the best ways, and exhaustion is starting to creep in.

Before you know it, a pair of arms snake around your waist, tugging you back gently. You find yourself against Jaemin’s chest, and you instinctively lean your head on his shoulder.

“And I thought I was tired,” he mumbles, kissing your hairline. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah, I’m okay. Can I stay with you tonight?” You turn to face him, lost in the way the lights glitter in his deep brown eyes. He truly is the most beautiful man you’ve ever seen, and you don’t have to restrain yourself from reaching up to cup his cheek. His skin is so smooth beneath your touch, you want to touch it forever.

“You don’t even have to ask.” He nods. “You’re always allowed to stay with me.”

Jaemin tells the boys you’re leaving. Chenle and Jisung halt their argument to give you a hug, and even Renjun allows Jeno some breathing time so he can say goodbye, too. Jaemin’s place isn’t far from Chenle’s, so you sit in silence for the ride, sleep threatening to take over on the way.

His fingers intertwine with yours over the center console, and his thumb rubs gently on your skin. You hum in content.

“Don’t fall asleep yet,” he whispers, careful not to startle you. “We’re almost there, my love.”

You try your best to listen to him. When you finally pull into his building’s parking lot, you’re barely able to keep your eyes open.

This week had been extra long, and you weren’t sure if you’d be able to go to Chenle’s tonight in the first place. You’re glad you did, but you’d much rather be curled up with Jaemin. He unbuckles his seatbelt and gets out, striding over to your side of the car.

Opening your door, he reaches across you to take your seatbelt off. “You okay? Do you want me to carry you?”

“Carry me? Jaem, you live on the fourth floor. I’ll be fine, just help me up.” You hold your hand out to him, but he clicks his tongue and slides his hands beneath your back and knees.

“You underestimate me,” he teases you, pulling you into his chest. “I’ll get you upstairs.”

Instead of arguing, you let your head fall onto his chest and you listen to his steady heartbeat. You’ve been together for six months now, and everything has been perfect. At this point, you’re pretty sure you want to marry Jaemin. You don’t know if he feels the same way, but you know you’d be damn lucky if that’s how things go.

He’s caring. Loving. All the things you could ever ask for. Hell, he’s carrying you into his apartment building so you don’t have to walk. He’ll make breakfast in the morning like he always does when you stay the night, and he’ll brush your hair and braid it if you want.

When you finally make it up to the fourth floor (via elevator, thankfully for Jaemin), his heart is still steady in his chest, and he brings you inside his apartment easily. He immediately brings you into his bedroom, setting you on his bed.

“Want a shirt, love?” he asks, heading over to his dresser.

“Please.” Your eyes are closed as you rest on his pillow, sinking into the soft mattress as if you’re on top of a cloud.

Jaemin grabs one for you, helping you sit up so he can help you take your blouse off. He pulls it over your head, the cotton fabric settling on your skin. It smells of his laundry detergent, so you take a deep breath to appreciate it.

“Okay,” he mutters. “Lay down now.”

He guides you back down, and he finds the button on your jeans. You aide him in taking them off of you, and then he kneels on the floor next to you, eye level with you.

“I love you,” he says, brushing your hair behind your ear. “Forever. I promise.”

“Me too,” you reply, voice quiet. “Love you forever.”

With a soft smile, he leans forward to kiss your forehead. “Get some sleep, my love. I’ll be back to cuddle in a few minutes.”

You watch him walk into his bathroom, but you’re fast asleep before he comes back out.

Forever. You scoff at your ceiling. What a concept. A novelty, really. You’re not even sure if it exists at this point. If a man like Jaemin wasn’t your forever, who the hell would be? Nobody interested you enough. You don’t think you want Jaemin anymore, but you don’t want anyone else either.

A cat. That’s what you need.

You try to distract yourself with the thought of that, but it doesn’t take long for another memory to completely consume you.

“Is this okay?” he asks, chest heaving while he hovers above you as his hand rubs up and down your side. “Tell me if you’re not comfortable.”

“I love you,” you tell him easily, as if the words are second-nature when they come to him. “I’m ready. I want you.”

Seven months in, and you and Jaemin were just now preparing to have sex for the first time. You’d touched each other, explored each other, but he always insisted he wanted it to be perfect. This, you decide, is perfect. He’s perfect. Nothing about him makes you nervous, and you’re more than ready to take the next step with him.

Neither of you are virgins, but it’d obviously been a while for you both. He lines himself up with your entrance and groans.

“You’re so wet,” he murmurs, as if he’s mesmerized. “I love you.”

To quell his nerves, you pull him down into a soft kiss, letting your mouths work together in perfect harmony while he slowly, carefully pushes inside you. His lips part, still pressed to yours, once he’s fully in.

Your eyes desperately want to flutter shut, but you don’t dare look away from him right now. He stays there for a moment, relishing in the feeling of the two of you finally being connected like this. Jaemin is deeply sentimental, so you know how much it means for him to take this step with you.

“You’re so beautiful,” he groans, taking your bottom lip between his teeth and tugging gently. “God, you feel so good.”

A small whimper leaves you at the sensation, and you rock your hips in response. “Move,” you tell him.

He drops his head to your neck, kissing, sucking, and nipping as he sets his pace. Oh so careful not to break you, he moans into your skin, the vibrations making your whole body tremble. The slide of him against your walls is intoxicating, and all you can do is take it, legs locked firmly around him as he takes you to a new world.

“Jaem.” You sigh, running your fingers through his hair for encouragement.

He continues to thrust, his breathing starting to increase when he gets closer to the edge. Without missing a beat, he reaches between the two of you to rub circles on your clit. You moan a bit louder than you should, but you don’t care.

Suddenly, you’re floating, brain going fuzzy when you reach heights you never thought you could. Your back arches into his body, nails digging into his shoulders as the world tilts off its axis.

“Shit,” he gasps, hips bucking. “You’re squeezing me so tight.”

You let out a shuddering breath, body slumping when you land from your free fall. Weaving your fingers through his hair, you pull him up to kiss you, swallowing his breathy whine as he cums.

Both of you sit there for a few moments, the only sounds are from the panting. He rests more of his weight on top of you, enveloping you in all the heat pouring out of his body. With a sweet kiss, he hums into your mouth.

“We’re gonna have to do that again.” He chuckles, his nose nuzzling your cheek. “You’re so fucking perfect.”

“Says you,” you retort.

“I’m so serious.” Jaemin frowns at you. “I’m going to make love to you forever. We’ll get old and gray and I’ll still find you sexy.”

You laugh, smacking his chest. “You’re ridiculous. But you better mean that.”

“I’ve never meant anything more.”

When Saturday rolls around, you head into your closet to pick out an outfit. You don’t want to wear anything too fancy, but not too casual either. Settling on a flowy, pale pink top and a pair of jeans, staring at yourself in the mirror for much too long.

No part of today has to be weird. You’ll show up, have a great night, go home, and repeat it again the next week. Even knowing that, you’re more nervous for tonight than you were for your interview yesterday.

You think you got the job, but you’d hear back for sure on Monday. Logically, you have nothing to worry about on either end.

You put Jaemin’s address into the map on your phone, and you see it’s not too far from your apartment. Donghyuck offered to pick you up, but you decided it’d be best if you got there on your own. That way, you don’t have to make Hyuck leave early if things aren’t going well for you.

You slide on your boots, checking your pockets to make sure you have everything before you walk out into the street. Locking the door behind you, you make your way over. It’s a little before six, but everyone knows you’re chronically early. Even when you and Jaemin were dating, you were at least fifteen minutes early for every occasion.

You’re excited to see Jaemin again, but you know you shouldn’t be. In fact, you distract yourself with the idea of all the other boys. You saw Hyuck already, but seeing all the others for the first time in years is going to be a great experience.

When you arrive at the building, you blink in surprise. With him being a successful businessman, you knew he probably didn’t live in the same place, but this one shocked you. It’s huge. There are probably dozens of floors, and you have to look at his text message again to see which one he’s on.

Twenty-four? Holy shit.

You step into the lobby, and the man at the front desk also serves as an elevator guard. When you approach, he raises his eyebrows at you.

“Where are you needing to go, ma’am?” he asks.

“Twenty-fourth floor, it doesn’t say a number on the text, though—”

“Let me call up there to confirm. What’s your name?”

“(Y/N),” you reply, shifting on your feet.

“One moment, please.” He grabs the phone off the hook and dials quickly. “Mr. Na, I have a woman here to see you. Her name is (Y/N).”

It only takes a second for the man to nod and hang up the phone. He bows his head to you and gestures behind him. “He said he’s expecting you.”

The doors part for you and you step inside, and somehow, the button for the twenty-fourth floor is already pressed. You wait patiently inside as you ascend, the nerves beginning to sink in. Jaemin might be expecting you, sure, but you’re probably going to be the first one there. You always are.

When the elevator dings and opens, you expect a hallway. Instead, you’re walking straight into Jaemin’s living room. The wall across from you is all glass, the buzzing city view below making your heart drop. Hardwood flooring covers the expanse of the room, a faux fireplace on with a large sectional in front of it, a coffee table, and several other seating arrangements.

A few bottles of rosé are in a bin of ice on the coffee table, with ten glasses set out. You frown, letting your mind wander on who they could be for.

“Oh, you’re here!” It’s not Jaemin’s voice you hear.

When you turn toward it, you’re surprised to see a woman. She’s beautiful, with long black hair and shining brown eyes, and it takes you less than a split second to realize who she is. What did you expect? Jaemin moved on, and you shouldn’t be surprised. Your ribcage shouldn’t be constricting as hard as it is right now, but you laugh as she gives you a hug.

“Sorry, I’m a hugger.” She chuckles as she pulls away from you. “I’ve heard so much about you. The boys get so crazy when good things happen. It’ll be nice to have another girl around here, Jiyoon and I are pretty close to insane. I’m Yeeun.”

She holds her hand out to you and you take it, overwhelmed by the information she’s given you. Jaemin walks out from the kitchen, his white button-down shirt sleeves rolled up to the elbows and the bottom hem tucked into a pair of blue jeans.

“Don’t scare her away.” Jaemin grins, shaking his head at her. “She’s kind of shy.”

“I’m not shy,” you retort.

“And that’s why you’re only one step inside, right?” Jaemin quirks an eyebrow, leaning his shoulder against the wall. “Make yourself at home. Lord knows everyone else does.”

“Where should I put my stuff?” I ask.

“The couch is fine. Everyone should be here soon.” Jaemin gestures over, but before you say anything else, he heads back into the kitchen.

“He’s so serious.” Yeeun cringes, walking with you to the couch. “Sometimes I think he’s got a stick in some places.”

“I can hear you,” Jaemin says.

You have to hold back another laugh.

“That’s the point,” she shouts back.

You take a seat and cross your legs, taking in the grandeur of Jaemin’s apartment. Various paintings hang on the walls and, in the midst of your concentration, something jumps in your lap. You gasp, throwing your hand over your mouth.

Thankfully, it’s just a kitten.

“Oh, that’s Luna.” Yeeun reaches over to give her a quick pet. “Jaemin’s got three cats. Luna, Lucy, and Luke. They kinda look similar, but you’ll learn them eventually.”

You stare at the animal in shock, wondering what convinced Jaemin to get three at once. Shrugging it off, you pick her up and hold her to your chest, running your hand over her soft fur.

“Chenle should be here any minute,” Yeeun says under her breath, glancing down at her phone. “Let me c—”

The elevator dings again, and Chenle walks in without a second thought. He tosses his jacket on the table and rolls his shoulders as if he’s done a bunch of work. Yeeun launches from the couch, and you can’t say you’re not relieved when you see her plant a kiss firmly on his lips. She’s not Jaemin’s girlfriend, she’s Chenle’s.

“You miss me after not seeing me for an hour?” he teases her, his arm wrapped around her waist.

“You’re so mean.” She scrunches her face, grabbing his hand and leading him over to the couch.

Chenle grins widely when he sees you and gives you a quick hug. “You finally decide to come back after five years?”

“Don’t be a brat.” You snort. “You’re elated I’ve returned.”

“We all are,” he says easily. “If I have to hear Hyuck cry one more time about you being thousands of miles away I might end him.”

“You and me both.”

“Oh, I had Yeeun come a little early. I knew you’d be atrociously early because you’re you, and I thought it might be weird with you and Jaemin alone, so…” Chenle lowers his voice.

“I appreciate you.” You smile, taking your spot back on the couch. “I’m okay, though. Really.”

Especially now that you know Jaemin’s not dating Yeeun.

“Chenle, I swear to God, if you eat all of this fucking board before everyone else gets here, I’m going to kill you.” Jaemin reenters, placing a charcuterie board down by the wine. “This took hours, dude.”

“I’ll leave it alone.” Chenle holds his hands up in mock surrender, sitting next to Yeeun and throwing his arm over her shoulders.

The next one to show up is Hyuck, who brings Mark in tow. They both hug you, and by now, conversation is flowing with everyone. Jeno is next, then Renjun and Jisung. You’re not sure what you were expecting from him, but he’s definitely turned into a grown up since the last time you’ve seen him.

“Holy shit,” you say, practically in awe. “Did you have seven growth spurts?”

“Actually, I think it was only one.” He laughs, patting your back. “I didn’t believe Hyuck when he said you were coming. Told him I’d have to see it with my own eyes first.”

When everyone is finally sitting down around the couch, you notice Chenle already eating some of the cheese. Jaemin glares at him, but he eventually gives up. You sit between Yeeun and Donghyuck, fading into the conversation in the way you used to. It warms your heart, and you have to fight the overwhelming feeling of having missed so much time.

Leaving was worth it. The experience you had was unlike any other, but you regretted not staying in contact with all of them—even Jaemin. Mark opens the wine first, pouring it into nine of the glasses.

“Where’s Jiyoon?” He frowns, directing his gaze to Jisung.

He shrugs. “She’ll be here soon. Her grandparents are in town, so she’s staying with her mom until they leave. But she shouldn’t be any later than seven-thirty.”

Your mind whirls at how they’re reacting to Jisung having a girlfriend like it’s normal. He’ll always be your baby brother in your eyes, regardless of blood relation.

“How’d your interview go?” Donghyuck asks you, roping you into the conversation.

“Oh, I think it went well. I find out for sure on Monday, so I’ll let you know.” You grin. “I’m ready to start making more money.”

“Why don’t you just come work for us?” Chenle offers. “I’m surprised Hyuck didn’t tell us you were looking for a job still.”

Donghyuck drops his head into his palm. “No shit, sherlock. Think about why I wouldn’t.”

“It doesn’t need to be like that,” Jaemin interjects, sighing. “(Y/N) and I are good. There’s no eggshells to walk on. Just let it go. Pretend it never happened.”

Pretend it never happened?

Your heart ping pongs around your chest, and you choke on your sip of wine. Everyone turns toward you and you chuckle nervously.

“Sorry. I wasn’t expecting this topic.” You set the glass down on the table, suddenly much less interested in it.

“If that’s what she wants, she can absolutely do that,” Jaemin continues. “If we’re ever going to be normal, we can’t be the only ones over it.”

You stare down at your lap, fidgeting with your hands as you try to ignore all the attention on you.

“Um.” You clear your throat. “I’m gonna go grab some water.”

You shoot up from your spot, darting into the kitchen before anyone can say anything else. Once you reach the island, you brace your palms on it to keep you afloat. You close your eyes and let out a deep breath.

“Hey,” Jaemin murmurs, stopping next to you. “Are you okay? I’m sorry if that was too much.”

“I’m fine.”

“Did I say something?” He furrows his eyebrows and shifts closer so you have to look at him.

“No, Jaemin, I promise. Everything’s good. I just need a minute.” You run your fingers through your hair and glance around the room. “Do you have water bottles?”

“In the fridge,” he replies.

Crossing his arms over his chest, he rests his back on the edge of the island, watching you as you grab one. You twist off the cap and take a sip.

“I don’t want you to be uncomfortable. That was never my intention.” Jaemin sighs.

“Regardless of your intention, I’m not uncomfortable. Everyone’s just so…different. But the same. And I missed you guys, you know? I missed Saturday nights and being around my favorite people, but it’s…Forget it. Please.”

“Okay.” He nods. “Come back out whenever you’re ready, then.”

Jaemin walks away from you, looking back once over his shoulder before he disappears around the corner. You bury your head in your hands, but you refuse to let anyone think you’re upset. About anything. Jaemin especially.

You take another drink of water before you follow him out to the living room. When you make it back to your spot between Hyuck and Yeeun, he leans over to whisper, “I got up to follow you and he looked like he would rip my head off if I moved another muscle.”

You snort. “Yeah, sure.”

Shortly after that incident, Jiyoon finally shows up. She’s a bit taller than Yeeun, with dyed blonde hair and brown eyes. Jisung introduces the two of you, and she greets you kindly. Mark fills her glass and hands it to her.

 You hear funny stories from Jeno, listen to Renjun scolding Jisung about something, and rest your head on Hyuck’s shoulder. He doesn’t seem to mind, so you don’t plan on moving. He’s having a heated discussion about something to do with stocks with Jaemin and Mark. You happily tune them out, because you have no idea what they’re talking about.

You finish your glass of wine and pour yourself another one. Chenle’s taken care of most of the charcuterie board by now, and Yeeun is showing him videos on her phone. You take a moment to appreciate everyone around you, something you never did before, and realize change may not be a bad thing.

Yes, everyone is different, but so are you. It’s magical when people grow up in the same direction, even past time, distance, and space. They’re all the same at their core, but older. Wiser. Happier. More mature.

You’re on your third glass by the time the night deepens. It must be past ten o’clock at this point, but you don’t feel tired at all. You’re surprised when Chenle and Yeeun leave first. They both hug you on their way out.

Apparently, they broke the seal, because Jisung and Jiyoon are next, followed closely by Renjun. Jeno doesn’t leave until eleven, and Mark and Donghyuck are packing up to leave as well.

“Do you need a ride home?” Hyuck asks.

“I’m okay.” You shake your head. “I’ll leave in a few minutes, don’t worry.”

He hesitates, but eventually listens to you. You’re left alone with Jaemin, much to your surprise, and he’s not kicking you out at the first opportunity he gets.

“Did you want help cleaning up?” you question.

“There’s not much to clean,” Jaemin replies, standing from his seat. “I won’t say no to help though.”

“Of course.” You chuckle and get up, brushing off your jeans. 

Grabbing a few of the glasses, you carry them into the kitchen and put them by the sink. Between the two of you, you’ve got everything in the kitchen within a few minutes.

“I’m glad you came,” Jaemin says, running the water to rinse out the dishes.

“Me too.” It’s not a lie. You love being in this group, but you wonder if there was a better way to ease back in.

“I…Can I say something?” he asks. “If it’s too weird, you can tell me no.”

“By all means.”

“You know I’m not mad at you, right? I’m not bitter and I don’t hate you. I missed you a lot, actually. But I don’t want you to think you can’t come around because of me.” He pauses, taking his bottom lip between his teeth. “I’m really proud of you. Of all the things you’ve accomplished, and I know we couldn’t have done the same things if we had stayed together.”

You don’t mean to let out a relieved breath, but his words take a weight off your shoulders. “Thank you, Jaem. I’m proud of you too.”

“Have one more drink with me? For old times’ sake?” 

“I’d love that.”

So that’s how you end up next to Jaemin on his couch, his feet kicked up on his coffee table. You make jokes, talk about everyday things, but the more you drink, the more you crave to know about the past, about what happened after you left.

“Is the past off-limits?” You turn to look at him, almost blushing when you realize how close his face is to yours.

“I don’t think so.” He shakes his head. “But for every question you ask me, I get to ask you one.”

“That sounds like a good deal.” You smile. “But you go first.”

He gives you a half-smile before pursing his lips as he thinks. “Was it easy for you? Over there, I mean.”

“I wouldn’t say it was easy. It’s hard to pinpoint the exact experience because things are so different here…but I don’t think I’d go back. It was a good experience, and I loved it, but this is where I belong.” You stop, contemplating your own question. “How were you?”

“Is complete honesty okay?” He quirks an eyebrow.

“It’s preferred, actually.” You take another sip.

“It took me a long time to recover. And I don’t want to make you feel bad, because what’s done is done, and we both needed the room to grow. You know, if you never hurt, you’ll never learn. Life is full of learning experiences. But yeah, I was a mess for a while. I loved you long after you left.” He smiles, as if loving you is a fond memory. “Do you miss me?”

Present tense. Miss. Not did you miss me, but do you miss me.

You chuckle, pursing your lips. “Yeah, I do.”

When you meet his gaze again, you see the soft look he gave you whenever he saw you before. He gulps, wetting his lips. Your heart twists in your chest as you realize what this means for you. No matter how much time passes, you’ll never stop loving Jaemin. It doesn’t matter how far apart you’ve been or for how long, because all of you yearns for all of him.

Your voice shakes when you ask your next question. “Where would we be if I hadn’t left? If I changed that, would everything be different?”

“Um.” He’s only inches away from you, studying your face with fervor. “In my mind, I definitely thought we’d be married by now. In love and happy, making babies that hopefully look more like you.”

You try not to let the tears form, but they sting your eyes anyway.

“Is that what you wanted?” he whispers.

“Well, I kinda wanted them to look more like you, but yeah.” You laugh as a tear falls, and you move to wipe it away, but Jaemin beats you to it. His thumb swipes across your cheek.

You’re not sure what’s happening between the two of you, but every part of you craves this.

“We were pretty great, huh?”

“Is that your question?” He smiles. “Because yeah, we were.”

“If that was mine, that one counted as yours too.” You lean into his touch, letting the warmth seep through your skin. “God, I wish it had been you. I wish you were the one.”

His lips part, but it sounds as if his words catch in his throat. He blinks rapidly for a second, gulping. “Who said I can’t be?”

He leans closer.

“I’m gonna kiss you now.”

Your heart drops, but you give him a tiny nod, aching for him. “Jaemin.”

He stops right before your mouths connect, and he lets out a sigh.

“Jaemin,” you repeat. “I have to say something first.”

“Okay.”

“I thought I got over you, but it’s only because I didn’t see you for years. Being with you right now…I might still love you, and if you’re not kissing me for the same reasons, we should stop before we both get hurt again.” You clench your eyes shut, refusing to look at him while you make a fool of yourself.

“I was hoping you’d say that.” He doesn’t give you the chance to respond, kissing you hard. You melt into him, much like the ways you used to.

He shifts to cup both of your cheeks, his mouth working against yours in that perfect harmony you’d only ever found with him. You grasp onto his sleeves. When he pulls away, he rests his forehead on yours.

“I…” he trails off, wetting his lips. “I want you.”

His voice is raspy as he says it, and it sends heat between your legs. You clench your thighs together.

“Me too,” you reply. “I want you, too.”

“Are you sure?” he asks.

“Of course.” You lean forward to kiss him, and as your lips meet his, he pulls you onto his lap. Straddling him, you weave your fingers in his hair and hold him close to you.

His hands dip down to your ass, squeezing it and pushing you a bit forward. You groan when you feel his tongue slide across your bottom lip, and you give him access. Without a fight, you let him dominate your mouth. When you grind down, you gasp when you feel him hardening beneath you.

“You’re so perfect,” he whispers, only breaking the kiss for a split second.

He lets out a small whine when you pull away from him, but he’s quickly silenced when you tug your blouse over your head. While he stares at your black lace bra, you work on unbuttoning his shirt.

 “Not here,” he interrupts you, grabbing your hands. “There’s only one place I want to have you right now.”

He stands, holding onto you tightly while you wrap your legs around his waist. For a brief second, you think about what Hyuck would say to you right now—if he would be okay with it or if he would call it a mistake—but you chase the thought away as fast as it comes.

Jaemin carries you to his bedroom, kicking the door shut behind him. He sets you delicately onto his bed, the familiar softness making you sigh. After he finishes taking his shirt off, he climbs on top of you, kissing your cheek, your jawline, down the pulse thundering in your neck, your collarbone, the swells of your breasts. He leaves marks on them before continuing his descent.

And then he’s at the hem of your jeans. He looks up at you, eyebrows raised. “Can I?”

“Please.”

Jaemin is a unique lover. He memorizes all the things you love, what makes you tick, and what he can do to elevate your pleasure. You’ve never had to fake it with him.

“It’s been a while for me,” he mutters. “It might not be…the best.” He clears his throat awkwardly, but pops the button and unzips the zipper.

“I’ll be happy with whatever you can give me,” you say.

His confidence returns after that, and he moves to tug your pants down your legs. You try your best to help him get them off of you, and he finally makes it back between your legs. He rubs his thumb over the obvious wet spot in your panties, humming to himself.

“Time doesn’t change how wet you get for me, huh?” He tsks, pressing a kiss to your clit through the fabric.

When he tugs them down, he admires you before leaning forward. You don’t expect the electric shock you feel when his mouth comes in contact with your core, but it has your back arching when he’s hardly done anything. Your hand immediately finds his hair, gripping it.

His tongue slides along your entrance, barely dipping inside before flicking your clit. He teases you like this a few times, but then his lips wrap around your sensitive bud and he sucks. His fingers trail up your thigh, and he extracts a moan from you when he pushes them inside you.

You inadvertently clench your thighs around his head. He moans against you, the vibrations sending pleasure shooting up your spine. You don’t mean to push him closer to you, but you can’t help it. Everything inside you feels like it’s crumbling and coming together at the same time under his ministrations.

You writhe much more than you should, and if it were anyone other than Jaemin, you’d be embarrassed.

“You taste so good,” he groans against you, thrusting his fingers faster. “So beautiful when you drip for me like this.”

He curls his fingers, and you slap a hand over your mouth to muffle your pleasure. One last flick of his tongue on your clit has your back arching, the bubble bursting inside you as you grind into his face.

After he’s helped you ride through your high, you sit up, sending him back a bit. You quickly reach for his pants, squeezing the prominent bulge before undoing the button and zipper. He steps out of them , pulling you toward the edge of the bed.

“We don’t have to,” he says, breathless. “We can wait if you’re not sure.”

“Jaem,” you reply, cupping his cheeks. “I’ve never wanted you more than I do right now.” You tug him down, kissing him with all your might. You taste yourself on him, but it does little to bother you. All you want is him.

His tongue explores your mouth while he finds the clasp of your bra. He pulls it away from you, guiding you back down onto the bed. His kiss trails down once more, stopping at your breast so he can take your nipple into his mouth. He swirls it, teeth gently scraping.

Finally, he’s shoving his underwear down and grabbing a condom from his nightstand. He rolls it on before joining you on the bed once more, and you feel his tip prodding at your entrance.

“You’re absolutely sure?” He pauses, giving as serious of a look as he can muster. “If we do this, you’re mine again, you know that, right?”

“I’ve always been yours, Jaemin,” you remind him, lifting your hips. “That never changed.”

You barely have time to finish your sentence before he’s pushing inside you, face contorting with pleasure as he bottoms out. Heart pounding, you grip onto his shoulders and wrap your legs around his waist.

“You okay?” he whispers, leaning down to kiss your neck. His eyelashes flutter across your skin, your body already slightly sticky from a thin sheen of sweat from your first indescribable high.

“Please move,” you whimper.

Jaemin moves slowly at first, allowing you both to get used to the feeling of being connected again. It’d be a long while since you’d done anything, too. He pants, nipping and sucking at the sensitive part of your throat.

His hips rock steadily, making sure to press as deep as he can every time. You're already a moaning mess below him, holding onto him for dear life.

“I’m sorry,” he says softly. “I’m not gonna last long.”

In response, you tighten your legs around him and flip him over, leaving him on his back and you on top. His eyes trail all over your body. You roll your hips. He sits up, grabbing your waist and pressing your chest against his, his dark, hardened gaze meeting yours as if this is a challenge.

“Lay back,” you tell him, running your hand down the hard planes of his chest as you gently push him back down. “Just watch.”

He gulps, but does as you say. His hands relax on you and he allows you to set your own pace. You lift up, shuddering at how he feels rubbing on your walls. His fingers twitch as if he wants to pull you back down.

“Baby,” he groans.

You set a steady pace, a bit faster than what his was. He traces down your body, leaving goosebumps in his wake as he moves downward until his thumb is pressed to your clit. You bite your lip to stop your moan, leaning back and bracing yourself on his thighs. He’s a mess beneath you, pleasure written across his face. It makes you want to do more, to work harder to bring him to his edge.

You’re so wet, slick sounds of him entering you fill the silence between sounds of euphoria. His thumb glides back and forth so easily, you have to pick up the speed. Everything around you begins to go fuzzy, and you know you’re approaching your second orgasm of the night much faster than you’d like.

Mid-way through your lift-up, your high hits, forcing you back down on his cock to finish with him buried deep inside, stretching you out. He sits back up, guiding you up and down as you slump onto his chest. He meets you halfway, thrusting up as he pulls you down.

He lets out a deep groan and holds you close to him, gently rocking his hips. He gasps for breath, pressing gentle kisses to your shoulder.

“I love you,” Jaemin whispers. “Don’t go again.”

“I’m not going anywhere.” You shake your head. “I love you, too.”

He opens his mouth to say something, but you both frown when you hear the elevator ding.

“Who is that?” you ask, climbing off of him on shaky legs to try and find your clothes.

“Not a clue.” Jaemin frowns, quickly disposing of the condom and putting his underwear and pants back on. He comes back to kiss your cheek. “Stay here. I’ll be right back.”

He walks out into his living room, but you get dressed quickly so you can follow him out. You hear him conversing with someone, but you’re not sure who it is. You’re finally back in your jeans and shirt, so you head out to check out what’s going on.

You know your hairs a mess, your makeup is definitely smeared, and your face is red, and on top of all of that, you’re coming out of Jaemin’s room. Anyone with a brain would see what’s going on.

Chenle moves over to the couch and grabs a purse, which is presumably Yeeun’s, and claps Jaemin on the shoulder before he notices you.

“(Y/N)?” He blinks in surprise, glancing between you and Jaemin. “This is a new development.”

“It’s not really that new,” Jaemin says. “Um, we were kind of…busy, though. If you could…”

“Right.” Chenle shakes his head. “Right. You two have fun. Not too much fun, and make sure no one gets hurt this time, please?”

“Are you going to tell Donghyuck?” You scrunch up your nose.

“I’ll give you a twenty-four hour head start.” He grins, saluting you both. “Take care of each other, dipshits.”

You massage your forehead with a sigh, and Jaemin approaches you.

“You got dressed.” He pouts.

“Well, yeah. Somebody was here.” You chuckle.

“Were you wanting to leave?” he asks, eyebrows furrowing. “It’s okay if you do, I just…thought we’d spend the night together.”

“I don’t want to leave,” you tell him. “I told you I’m not leaving you again, Jaem. I meant it.”

“Then let’s get back to bed.” Jaemin massages your shoulders gently as he guides you back to his room.

He gets you a T-shirt to wear to bed, and once you’ve changed into it, you crawl onto his mattress and wait for him to join you. Instead, he stares at you, a smile on his face.

“I never thought I’d get you like this again.”

“You were always the one for me, Jaemin. It just wasn’t the right time.” You rest your head on one of his pillows, patting the spot next to you. “Now come over here.”

He finally listens, climbing under the comforter and pulling you to him until you’re pressed into his chest.

Kissing the top of your head, he hums. “We’ll have everything we ever wanted.”