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offtorivendell · 22 hours

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On Elain, Gwyn and their apparent romantic worthiness.

TW: mentions of death, violent or sexual assault, infertility and pregnancy/childbirth related trauma. Please do not proceed if these topics bother you.

Disclaimer: please, please engage with this post with kindness. I promise I am not writing it to stir the pot, but because I - and many others - are fed up with seeing hurtful and harmful rhetoric spewed by the fandom, yet having no back up when dealing with it. Word vomit incoming, I'm sorry. This has been bothering me for a while.

My love to everyone who has been hurt by things they've read in this fandom. 💜

It's 2024 and I cannot believe we are still seeing posts, almost daily, about both of these women; all giving reasons why they cannot possibly be with Azriel. And I don't mean the debatable but utterly harmless discussions about Elain not looking good in black or Gwyn blabbing to Merrill when asked not to. Whatever, go nuts. I mean the truly horrific takes based around things these two women have had no control.

Now, my post history makes it very obvious where I stand in terms of ships, and yes, I'm well aware I've spoken before about the inherent power imbalance - that I perceive - which would exist if Azriel ever became involved with any of the priestesses in the women's shelter he is charged with protecting (to be clear, that's not me suggesting that Gwyn and her story isn't powerful, or powerful representation to those who see themselves in her, nor is it personal to Gwyn, or indicative of any of the sheltered priestesses and their ability to heal; it's purely a function of Azriel's position of authority over their sanctuary). I want to reiterate that my stating my feelings about this was never done with the intent to shame people who do ship them; we all ship who we like, and real world ethics should rarely come into it.

That being said, the following, in my opinion, is one of those times.

Firstly, I just want to say that lived experience informs how we interpret fiction, so please let me clarify something: the people who have said that they don't think Gwyn is ready for a relationship yet, and that NSFW fan art of her with anyone makes them uncomfortable, are not in any way in the wrong. They're simply the other side of the coin to those who find it empowering, and both are valid responses, often related to personal trauma. The problem lies with those very few who say that Gwyn could never have a romantic relationship, and call those who talk and/or post about it "gross." Some have called her "damaged goods." This is absolutely wrong and whoever is doing it needs to stop.

The entire fandom, even those who find romantic or NSFW content involving Gwyn uncomfortable to consume, frequently acknowledges that her trauma doesn't define her, and of course she should be able to enjoy love whenever she feels ready for it. Those who say otherwise are readily condemned from all corners. I've seen it happen and called the people out myself, as have many other Elriel shippers when necessary. However, Elriels are still very regularly and very publicly blamed for the actions of a few (some of whom I truly believe are burner accounts wanting to cause chaos, with their Elriel themed usernames and no post history), despite our largely collective action to call them out when we see it.

Could we do better? Absolutely, but so can you!

Because, on the other hand, I've noticed that, whenever I or others have tried to explain why the pliable bones "theory" - which attempts to reason that Elain could never be endgame with Azriel, as she and any baby would die during the course of pregnancy or childbirth - is equally as harmful, we are met with people publicly and wholeheartedly refusing to understand why (especially recently). Some horrific comments have been made to my friends, not to mention all of those I see well after the fact, which are never widely condemned by any but us. People will argue back that we're wrong, and have even suggested we're weaponising infertility! On Mothers' Day, of all the fucking painful days to say that.

Some of the push back I've seen recently includes:

"Nobody has said Elain is infertile."

No, nobody has, and that's not what we're saying or have ever said. We know you don't think this, as the Elucien fandom loves to write and draw Elain and Lucien's hypothetical future children (which is super understandable, as this is a romantasy fandom after all - no shame, enjoy your warm fuzzies).

What we are saying is that, if it's true that Elain's anatomy wasn't changed as Feyre and Nesta's was - and to be clear I cannot stand that entire plot, I wish SJM had chosen literally any other reason why Feyre's pregnancy was dangerous, as it is simultaneously degrading and doesn't fit with her previously established lore - then Elain and Azriel, together^, would be functionally infertile. Yet it's only ever framed as Elain's body not being able to work with Azriel's, never the other way around.*

^Why didn't the bat boys have to sacrifice their wings to keep their wives/mates safe? Why did the women have to change their anatomy? Because it would make it harder for them to be all powerful? Well Nesta sacrificed her powers! Why not just have Feyre be cursed by an enemy or something, and Nesta found a way to use the Dread Trove to save them all. Ugh. I love SJM's books, but this was such a miss.

*HOSAB/HOFAS SPOILER: funnily enough, this was never said about Ruhn and his eventual mate, even though he actually did think he may be unable to father children, thanks to the Oracle's prophecy. People shipped the hell out of him and a couple of different women throughout the CC series, despite the chance he could never get them pregnant.

"People haven't called Elain damaged goods, so it's not the same. We're allowed to not like her."

My faerie porn* lover in christ, what the fuck do you think the pliable bones "theory" is actually doing? It is suggesting that Elain's hypothetical inability to survive having children with Azriel, and for those children to also survive childbirth, is impaired. Ergo, she's damaged.

We don't care if you don't like Elain, we're allowed to have different preferences in characters and ships. That has never been the problem.

*I use this term with affection as a great lover of the genre.

But "damaged" vs a functionally "impaired" uterus? It's the same damn thing, and sorry, it's misogynistic af, not to mention ableist and homophobic at a minimum. In the same breath you are also reducing your favourite to her apparently functional uterus (even though the pliable bones argument is medically inaccurate, by the way - this is really damning of the state of health education across so many countries).

"Hahaha/lol."

Yes, I have seen people laugh and treat this as a joke. As recently as tonight, in fact. It's disgusting.

Regardless of your lived experiences and shipping preferences, both of these takes about Elain and Gwyn are equally degrading and horrific and need to stop, but if you're only calling out the comments that hurt you/your friends/your ship and not the others, then you should maybe attempt some basic self reflection and analyse those double standards you're carrying.

This entire fandom needs to do better. I'll say again, for the umpteenth time, to any of my fellow Elriels that if you think mocking Gwyn's past is funny, then you're not mature enough to read an adult series. But this works both ways, and if you think mocking infertility is funny/use it as a win, then you're just as immature. I would really and truly appreciate it if we were not left alone to argue over and over again why discriminating against someone who couldn't "have a man's children" is wrong, and why many, many people in this adult fandom - that is largely comprised of women! - might find such a theory, and the resulting discourse, incredibly upsetting.

Infertility hurts; not having a kid when you want one can be viscerally painful. Besides that, I know very few people who have given birth who don't carry around some sort of emotional or physical trauma from doing so. Treating a character's hypothetical infertility with one man as a joke is gross.

Please don't call Gwyn "damaged goods" or suggest that Azriel would choose somebody else over Elain because she couldn't have his kids.

They are the same thing.

It's not hard to be kind. Pain is not a competition.

We should all do better, and take care of each other.

#acotar

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brookbhaib-blog · 2 days

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Kaiju No. 8: The Secret of Hoshina

pairing: hoshina soushirou x reader

summary : in which hoshina soshiro has to reveal his secret wife to the Third Division

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The Third Division's base buzzed with its usual energy. Soldiers trained in the yard, administrative personnel hustled through corridors, and the hum of machinery filled the air. Amidst this routine, Vice-Captain Hoshina Soshiro maintained his calm, collected demeanor, effortlessly balancing paperwork and tactical planning. However, a secret part of his life was about to unfold in the most unexpected way.

The day began like any other until an urgent message interrupted the flow. "Vice-Captain Hoshina," a young soldier called, saluting briskly. "There's a visitor at the gate requesting to see you. She says it's a personal matter."

Hoshina raised an eyebrow. "A visitor? Did she give a name?”

"Yes, sir. She said her name is y/n."

A flash of surprise crossed Hoshina's usually stoic face. He quickly masked it, but not before Captain Narumi and Kafka Hibino, who happened to be in the room, noticed.

"I'll handle this personally," Hoshina said, standing up. "Kafka, Narumi, continue with the briefing. I'll be back shortly."

As Hoshina made his way to the gate, his mind raced. y/n hadn't contacted him in years, respecting their agreement to keep her identity and their relationship a secret for her safety. Why now?

Reaching the gate, Hoshina saw a woman with long, beautiful hair and a determined expression. Her eyes softened when she saw him.

"Soshiro," y/n said, her voice a mix of relief and urgency.

"y/n," Hoshina responded, his voice gentler than usual. "What brings you here?"

She glanced around nervously. "We need to talk, somewhere private."

Hoshina led her to a secluded office, closing the door behind them. "What's wrong?" he asked, concern evident in his eyes.

"I didn't want to come here and risk exposing you, but there's something you need to know," y/n began. "A new type of kaiju has appeared. It's different, intelligent, and it knows about us."

Hoshina's expression hardened. "How do you know this?"

"I encountered it," she admitted. "It spoke to me, Soshiro. It knew my name, our connection, everything."

Hoshina felt a cold shiver down his spine. "This changes everything. We need to inform the others, but discreetly."

As they exited the office, Hoshina knew it was time to reveal a part of his life he had kept hidden for so long. He led y/n to the main briefing room where Kafka, Narumi, and the rest of the key officers were gathered.

"Everyone," Hoshina began, his voice steady. "This is y/n. She is... my wife. And she brings urgent news."

The room fell silent, shock evident on every face. Kafka blinked rapidly, Narumi's jaw dropped, and Kikoru Shinomiya's eyes widened in surprise.

"Wife?" Kafka echoed. "Hoshina, you have a wife?"

Hoshina nodded. "Yes, and her presence here is tied to a new threat. y/n, please explain what you told me."

y/n stepped forward, recounting her encounter with the intelligent kaiju. The gravity of the situation was clear to everyone.

Narumi was the first to recover. "If this kaiju knows about y/n, it could target her to get to you. We need to ensure her safety and prepare for this new threat."

Hoshina felt a surge of gratitude for his comrades' swift acceptance and focus. "Thank you. We will integrate y/n's knowledge into our strategies and ensure she is protected at all costs."

As the team sprang into action, Hoshina exchanged a glance with y/n. For the first time in years, they were together, facing a threat side by side. The revelation of their relationship brought new strength to the Third Division, a reminder of what they were fighting for—each other, their loved ones, and the future of humanity.

#kaiju no. 8 #fanfic #soshiro hoshina #hoshina x reader #hoshina soshiro x reader #soshino x reader #kaiju art

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voidcat · 2 days

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— a broken record

characters: aventurine/you, the ipc, original planets & characters, xianzhou alliance (mostly mentioned)

notes: 3.5k of a beast! Hello, hi, as I’ve mentioned before our mc has a prewritten history and backstory which will be revealed as the story goes on, hence the shifts of perspective you’ll come to see as you read & as I write. Second part of this chapter is an example of this. The storyline begins linear but this will be distorted as the plot goes on. Hsr characters and ipc doesn’t have full of revealed role so I’m taking creative liberties and adding planets, systems and characters when I see benefiting the story. I hope I do the characters justice and you guys enjoy this as much as I do:) love yall bye<3

songs: Too Sweet, It Will Come Back, A Dramatic Irony

i. it will come back

The corporation has its eyes everywhere; but not all those eyes belong to them.

It is a well guessed and partially accurate fact, that their arms and limbs, eyes and noses spread far and wide, recording every instance big or crucial; watching intently to plan their next move.

The IPC spreads far and wide, beyond stars and planet systems many don't even know the existence of. But as there is a price to everything, their range comes with its cost.

His heels echoing on the stone pavements, Aventurine knows of the strategists and analysts the corporation has working under them. Just because he is yet to meet one in the flesh does not make them any less real, though that’s where the rumors seem to hint at. An urban legend at best, exceptional people all in their own field, always watching, observing, recording, collecting information.

The rumors start after this part, where their loyalties lie.

It is something not many care about frankly, everyone has their reasons to work for— or under the IPC, it’s not up for others to judge why someone would willingly work for them, harvesting data for them; nobody knows for certain whether these analysts travel from one location to another, or stay stationed at certain spots for long periods of time; do they like to watch planets burn and shackled, or are they prisoners of the corporation via the extension of someone dear, with hostages and deals one’s forced on; all these questions and more nobody dares to ask around.

As people stare at him, Aventurine walks towards his target, the classy looking pub across the street, the best and most prestigious in the area, known for its delicacies and safety, or so the people of this planet think.

His outfit is the same, the flashy peacock holds his head high, a smirk adorning his face, eyelids low, he is well aware of the attention he gathers, as intended., Ggo on, keep staring, a voice inside him says.

Like anyone else in his line of job, he didn't give much thought to those rumored, but now there is a spark, and his eyes intently roam the place as he enters, hat in one hand, he keeps close to his chest.

There are signs for those wandering eyes.

Or so the people whisper about the urban legends. No one sticks out exactly yet, those kinds would not end up a myth if they stuck out like a sore thumb.

It was pretty much the same with the history of IPC and how it gets the job done, their tactics and course of action always following a system, even with the risks taken, the gambles taken into account, there was always a formula, a pattern that follows– then he decided to take a look at some records and found out interferences happened.

The why of it remains a mystery as of now, the how does not take much; they hold the information, it is up to them how many cards they lie on the table, how much they keep to themselves and how they name their price. A little rebellion as much as they can afford maybe, is it their conscious or just selfish desire, or to feel that they hold the strings above all; he is yet to find out.

Eyes on his target, he makes his way to the secluded booth, greeted with enthusiasm laced with a little fear. Not many people of this planet know of the outworlders traveling beyond stars, only those who rose to their respective ranks are given access to such information after all.

The arrival of IPC is both something that sent them into frenzy; excitement of the ‘what-if’s, fear for the worst case scenarios. They don't need to know of the fates of those erased from the maps to get that survival instinct kicking in.

Eyes lazily gazing over the marshall and the gambler, you take a sip from your drink, allowing the ambiance of the place to take over.

A delightful tune to your eyes, no hungry gaze locked on you for once, a decent cocktail by your hand and a job almost done. The planet itself isn't too advanced but more or less up-to-date with the systems surrounding itself; or the ones in charge are, which is a great deal considering certain systems and planets’ situations. Better to have some sort of an idea than to jump in blind. The gambler’s interactions seem to near its end, still managing to captivate the small crowd around himself until the very last second, flashy smiles and dazzling gestures. From the air around him and the happy but reluctant face of the marshall, you can safely assume a deal has been struck between the planet and the IPC, one can only hope it won’t bring destruction and grief with it, or that all life will cease to exist by the time that comes; with the IPC, one can never know for sure, when it is resource-rich planets they intent to use and mine.

Sweet tunes of the piano and bass remain vibrating in the air, a cello and a small set to keep up the rhythm. The little gathering dispels yet not all of them leave, scattering around the place.

He arrives by your side sooner or later, still making sure to take his time and talking with few others he must’ve seen worthy of their word or to kill time somehow. By the time the gambler sits by your side, you let your finger dance over the rim of your glass, half of the whiskey already gone, faint notes of its scent lingering in the air.

Aventurine tilts his head to the side, beginning with a line not too daring but equally natural and tame; nobody wants to scare people away within a few words, and he has plenty of time before he is expected back in the headquarters of IPC.

instead of a reply, you grace him with a smile and your fingers wrapping around your glass.

Taking your smile as a sign to keep going, he takes the seat next to you, resting his forearm on the counter. Faking a gaze at his clothes, “It seems I must've overdone it.” he says halfheartedly, in question. The voice of a man who knows all too well what he was going for, a sheepish smile that feigns innocence, fully aware of the cheap acting it’s putting on. Warming the atmosphere, creating an air of comfort and ease, friendliness and truce.

“Cannot say for sure,” you hum, “up until now you’ve had everyone’s eyes on your person,” your fingers relax around the glass, “which is more or less how the usual crowd operates, you only happen to beat the others to the quota today.”

He listens as you speak, noting how you talk in sync with the music. As primitive as the planet might be, the access to data was plenty and right under his palms, yet such small details are lost, he wonders if the music lacks lyrics or if they play it here so, just to bring out the conversations happening.

“Well, lucky me, or how else could I find myself a spot near yours truly?” he exclaims, both of you aware how cheap and easy the compliment is.

“I doubt you would have any struggles.” you say as you bring the glass to your lips, taking a small sip of the ashy drink. As true as it is, he takes a step back, filling the space with a smile instead.

Do you find him so charming that you would allow him to draw near any other way or have you noticed how he stands out among the rest as well– your spot here at the bar does not have the best of view but anyone with a slight curiosity could notice it was a certain class he had a meeting with prior. Maybe it's the difference of status you mean, that his meeting alone would be intimidating. Yet it isn’t enough of a reason to justify this possibly, this particular establishment isn’t one anyone can waltz in, hence the reason it was chosen for today’s meeting.

Humming to the melody, you take another sip. “How do you find the establishment so far?” you inquire and at your question, he chuckles. “I see, I see, I should’ve held back a little, maybe leave the hat back at home, huh?”

Only at his words you seem to notice the hat by the counter, your fingers leaving the glass to play with its rim instead, feeling the fabric and the details adorning the garment.

“I wouldn’t know.” you say, closing your eyes, “But speaking for myself, I’m quite fond of the combination so far.”

Silence falls over for a while as the music continues.

“What brings a lovely person such as yourself, alone at the end of the workweek, to a place better enjoyed with someone else?”

Unnecessarily long, his brain jabs at him, but he doesn’t care, from your reactions, you seem to enjoy the rambling and the coyness.

“Exactly what you’ve said at the end.” is your reply. Nails hitting against the glass, you draw out a melodic series of clanks. You follow the rhythm well, he notes, with recognition and following at hand, it is no difficult feat to speak in sync, allow the music to swallow and put your words into spotlight.

“Perhaps the most prestigious place around here, and a little pretentious in the eyes of some– like a certain face I happen to be avoiding, but that’s where the charm of it lies, wouldn’t you agree?” you change the topic and bring it back to where he left, giving him two options, two different roads to take.

Is it the ex that is pretentious or does he find the location as such; he has a feeling the answer to this remains ‘both’.

“The ambiance manages to be intimidating and capture a warmth to it, too.” he says, “a troublesome ex perhaps?” Why pick when you can have it all, he is willing to take it and where it’ll go, until you put down the stop sign.

“And delightful melodies all around, truly a safe haven at times.” you continue his words. “Not really, just his own person, blue hair to match his soul. It often felt like, with his own goals set in mind, ambitions and beliefs, what other people thought to be pretentious was nothing more than a misconception frankly.” you sigh.

“And yet, too much to deal with at the end of the day, hm?” Aventurine asks.

With melancholy on your face, you only close your eyes and nod with a hum.

“You remind me of him.” your words catch him off guard, a lightning bolt down his spine, he finds himself straightening up in his seat.

At his sudden reaction you hold back the chuckle that's by your lips, “with all the contrast you hold to him, relax,” until you cannot, and giggle, “it seems I’ve gotten rusty, my apologies, I was trying to–” you ramble off, unable to finish your sentence.

Cute, he thinks, and another part of him finds it impressive how despite it all, even when words seem to escape your grasp, you still manage to speak in rhythm.

A new song begins playing, with a slight change of tune and color, making Aventurine raise his head without noticing.

“Have you ever thought as if some songs– music can resemble a person?” Your question pulls him out of his bubble. With your chin resting against your fists, you stare at him with big, shiny eyes. The ‘how so?’ rests on his tongue, “It can depend on the song, and the person, I’d assume.” he plays it safe. “How do the lyrics to this one go?”

You let out a hum in sync with the music again, you must’ve heard it plenty before, or just like it to a certain degree.

“I wouldn’t know.”

You say it matter-of-factly, like a kid stating they like ice cream.

The initial surprise wears off and he allows another smile to bloom on his face, unable to rid of his furrowing brows and the confusion still lacing his beating heart.

His eyes quickly go over the place and he cannot spot a single musician in sight, just an old looking gramophone by the bar, behind the counter, jolting by itself at times, as if giving out its final performance. He could swear he saw a small batch of musicians when he entered, they must’ve taken a break perhaps.

“Whoever’s behind it must be an excellent compos–” “honey, you make this so easy.” Your words glide off with the melody, yet something about it sticks out, poking at his ears, something in his guts tell it is distorted.

Yet you keep smiling at him, almost a dreamy, singsong state to your person.

“What is it that catches your attention to the music here?” He hears you speak, eyes looking for the musicians he swears were there several system hours ago.

Swinging slightly to the melody, he knows better than to not keep someone waiting.

“How it brings out the words spoken by whom you’re speaking.” He states, like a kid answering for a pop quiz they’ve been memorizing for all week long.

“And how it drowns out anything else from the outside.” You complete for him, “that's the main reason this place is often sought out by a certain class.”

He has noticed it too, of course, every planet primitive or advanced, always have their ticks and tricks to separate classes and to feel important in their little bubbles.

Eyes finding yours, Aventurine finds your expression to be distracting, you should know better than to smile like that, naive yet sharp, pure yet knowing, holding the secrets to some sort of concept he does not even know the existence of.

He weighs whether to speak next or wait, but it seems you won’t be making any moves until his begins.

“It must’ve been difficult to compose pieces with such a certain goal set in mind though, I’d be delighted to meet the geniu–“ “Oh, how I wish we too had lyrics to accompany our songs just like yours beyond stars.” Your exclamation cuts through the air like a dagger.

What you’ve said registers a bit later than he’d prefer but his face pales before his consciousness gets to work.

“Oh but you didn’t know, did you?” Your voice tone hasn’t shifted much since the moment he has met you, but he begins to find it grating, how you seem to enjoy toying with him, to the best of your abilities.

“Not many outworlders do, none at all, if we are being frank here.”

“And why is that?” Aventurine asks you, glasses pushed to the bridge of his nose, his demeanor a tad more intrigued.

“Now that…” you begin, leaning towards him slightly, “I truly don’t know.”

Hands clasped before you, you take your eyes off him as if this is just some casual date between citizens of the same village.

“But I know what your lot says, that this is a primitive planet at best, just happened to be lucky and advance in certain areas.”

This much information at your hands, you must be among the ranks of government officials. It does not come as a surprise to Aventurine that the Marshall would bring along more than just manpower to an important meeting, determining the destiny of countless lives.

“It is only fitting that the art here has evolved to the form it once had when life was anew and the people had nothing but fire, stones and one another, walls of the caves to draw on, piles of wood to set fire to.”

He takes notice how you avoid using the word ‘devolve’, you must’ve seen something in this turn of events that makes it different to what it used to be, possibly more than just the state of your species.

Not so long after this rundown that you take your leave, still humming the same song from before, Aventurine finds himself wondering what meaning have you attributed to it— and by extension, to him?

And by the time he is back on the ship, preparing his report, his mind begins to forget about you already.

It is unlikely that fate will cross his path through this planet again, reading its name in future reports will be the most at best. The songs however, take their places at the back of his mind, playing over and over when he has just lied down to take a moment,

An interesting detail, indeed, he thinks. But the question remains: was it left out deliberately, or truly only known by the natives of the planet, unable to be reached with no interaction nor contact? Sloppy work or is something bigger at play?

Ii. a dramatic irony / l’inverno

Luofu is ever changing and eternal, as it ever was, just as its citizens are.

Yet today is not one of those days, today, your countless days of watching, noting, and occasionally drinking tea, pays off; the anomaly is on the move, and so are abominations of abundance. Posing the picture perfect threat, as they are meant to be, you wait to see how fruitful this one will turn out to be. Planting seeds often results in disappointment, for most of them require constant care. It’s the matter of collecting those that can stand on their own that enrich one’s wealth.

The anomaly that was supposed to become an abomination themselves stand between the people and the abominations of the stage, one fist clenching, other readying the makeshift weapon, eyes going back and forth, telling those they once swore to protect to stand back.

It is too early to celebrate but you think a nice dinner in Aurum Alley to treat yourself after the day comes to an end would not hurt a soul. Whispering small words on what to do and not, ‘hey didn’t we keep dental records back in the day as well?’, silently entering in and typing in the name of that lost warrior to their system… such things shouldn’t necessarily earn you a pat on the back– it’s not your fault the people have grown slow and dull with the days of peace they are born into. A tea against the artificial sunset wouldn’t hurt a soul, and it certainly won’t hurt the financial resources of the IPC though.

Your job, though what it entails is often unclear, is no rocket science as the people of the blue planet once said. It’s where and how you plant the seeds of suspicion that matters, how you goad them all the while making them feel the ideas were theirs to begin with, just a little nudge toward the right direction, no big deal there.

Focusing back on the present, you go over the expressions people seem to carry. Despite the fear in their eyes, the people watch the ex knight with hope, chests rising high because they have faith they’ll leave this place alive.

Yet something still stinks.

You have left the ‘how’ of the ex knight managing to live out like a regular knight, stranger occurrences have begun to appear at a rapid rate nowadays, got everyone in a frenzy, even the IPC, which, in and of itself is a great deal of success. With the path of Akivili under the spotlight once more, the horizon seems a little wider for you; creating discordances within the flow of events now that their attention has been divided.

You return to the scene before you and notice how the fist does not only clench but seem to hold, then you recall how the time forsaken warrior jumped right into the abominations as they picked out the innocents lying on the ground– not a distraction but a set up.

Setting up the stage before the grand finale, a knight defying time and logic, you can see in their eyes and body how the rumored impulsive nature has evolved, shifted into a new path, bringing along with it a technique unique to its time and person.

You watch as the lights go out and the show starts. It lacks the elegance it was rumored to carry but you’d not be surprised, this is something borrowed, something learned, without their old master, there is no longer a correct way of applying it yet they still play it like a violin, pull the strings and trap the abominations in, one by one, three by three, they try to attack but the knight deflects faster than them.

Then taking a pause, steadying a step back, they look back and tell the people to evacuate the space. As you watch people hurriedly go all around, desperate to help in some way, one running off to alert the authorities, your eye catches a string not shining like the rest, positioned oddly.

In the shadows, nobody sees, and it the crowd, nobody notices you moving.

Crouching down, you pick it up and place how the rest seem to be angled.

Satisfied when you see the golden, light-like shine return to it; a glance at the knight and you see them move, enduring the hits and swinging out the makeshift bow, performing like a violinist and radiating trust with every step. Nowhere near their master yet but quite on the way and more than enough.

By the time the backup arrives, the young swordmaster of ice and soldiers behind him arrive, you take your leave, pulling up your hood, you bring a hand over to your face, letting it sit and feeling the change.

The Alliance seems to be doing well under the general and from the looks of it, it will continue to do so. The nearing presence of the IPC won’t hold as serious a threat as it may to other planets.

The representatives of the company don’t seem to notice your presence as you walk past them and toward the alley.

Among their ranks employees with duller and duller senses, one might even be hopeful as to think the downfall of the corporation will begin shortly.

#a broken record #aventurine #honkai star rail #aventurine x reader #aventurine x you #honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail x you #aventurine fanfiction #hsr fanfic #hsr fanfiction #gender neutral reader #aventurine fanfic

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sxtvrns · 1 day

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industry’s favourite lovebirds

🎶 now playing: perfume – nct dojaejung

P: Choi Yeonjun x Fem!Idol!Reader

S: A deep dive into the lives of the lovebirds of the industry, from their first meet to where they are today.

G: fluff, narrative fiction

W: guess who’s back!!! I SWEAR IM ALIVE but my writing has definitely gotten shittier after a year long absence cuz it gets difficult trying to come up with lots of different stories and furthermore writing them!! pls lmk if i should add any warnings to this i am trying my best :>

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please interact if you enjoy!

“Are you two ready?”

“Yes.” You both replied, fidgeting anxiously in your seats.

At first, you hesitated at the request for this interview. However, the company had explained what would happen in such great detail that you accepted, as did Yeonjun.

When you arrived at the studio, they further explained what kind of questions were gonna be asked, the atmosphere, and the idea of making it a safe space for both of you. If at any point you two were uncomfortable, you were allowed to back out or move onto another question.

Two comfy white chairs situated rather close together sat in front of the camera. One had a fox plushie, and one had a pair of headphones— your representative emojis.

“Are you nervous?” Yeonjun asks, looking at you.

“A little.” You chuckle, your hand brushing against his.

The director behind the camera sits in his chair with a stern, but welcoming expression. He begins to speak.

“And… action!”

The interviewer did not have a microphone; her voice was soft, yet loud enough to be picked up on the microphone.

“Alright, let’s have you guys introduce yourselves.”

“Hello, I’m Y/N.”

“And I’m Yeonjun.”

You both wave to the camera.

“How does it feel to be known as the lovebirds of the industry?”

Yeonjun speaks up. “Well… we certainly weren’t expecting it. I mean, if we weren’t idols, I’m sure we would’ve just been a regular couple. But we take pride in that label, and we carry it out together.”

“Now, on behalf of everyone, we’d like to know how this all started. When did you two first meet?”

Yeonjun puckers his lips in thought before speaking again. “If we’re talking first-first meet.. it wasn’t long after TXT debuted.”

“Yeah, I was still a trainee.”

─────────

You were parched. And the water machine was broken. The other one was empty. You still had some weird thing against sink water.

So when you were about to buy water from the vending machine in the building, you were pissed to find out there was none left. You just missed it.

You groan in defeat as you head to the elevator, waiting for the door to open. You’re too busy cursing the world in your head to notice someone tapping you on the shoulder.

“Hey.”

The voice finally makes you turn around, and you’re greeted by a familiar face standing in front of you.

“Yeonjun.” You mutter. “Hi, um, is there something you need?”

“Take this.” He hands you a bottle of water— the same brand that was in the vending machine. “You grabbed the last one?” You ask.

“Yeah. You look like you need it more than I do.”

“Do you want me to pay you back? I can–“

“No, it’s fine. Just take it.”

“Are you sure?”

“I insist.”

You reluctantly take the bottle from him. “Thank you…” Your meek reply is followed by aggressive chugging, almost downing the bottle in one swift gulp. Sighing contentedly, you enter the elevator with him following behind you.

You’re unsure of how to ease the awkwardness in the air. “Um… congrats on your debut.” You say.

“Oh. Thanks. Have you… are you still training?”

“I’m debuting soon. Hopefully.”

“Really?”

You put my hand over your mouth. “I don’t think I was supposed to say that.”

He chuckles. “Don’t worry, it happens. Beomgyu almost revealed too much before our debut whenever we were out together.”

You smile.

His eyes land on you. “I’m looking forward to it.”

The elevator door opens, Yeonjun standing up straight to walk off the elevator. “Bye, Y/N.”

“Bye–“ You manage to reply before the door closes fully.

He knew your name.

─────────

“Really? Is that what you thought?” Yeonjun smiles, holding back a laugh.

“Well, I hadn’t debuted yet, so I was surprised!”

“I remembered seeing you in the halls when I was a trainee, and I asked what your name was since we had the same dance instructor.”

“You remembered?” You look at him in awe.

“It’s hard for me to forget a pretty face.”

You laugh and look away, embarrassed by the sudden compliment.

“How did you guys find out you liked each other?”

This time, you answer. “Yeonjun and I had each other’s KakaoTalks, so we’d been keeping in touch. We did it really carefully, so only our members ended up found out. As for how we found out…”

─────────

You notice an unfamiliar, alluring scent coming from Yeonjun. “New perfume?”

“Yes, how’d you know?”

“It’s strong. And not like the one you usually wear.”

“Is it too much?” is what he said, but he was really thinking about the fact that you noticed the change.

“A little… but I like it.”

“Yeonjun, I thought you were getting us drinks…” One of his group members, who you recognized as Beomgyu, came up behind him.

“I am, I’m just waiting…”

“Y/N! I really liked your solo song, but Yeonjun likes it even more.” He nudges Yeonjun’s arm.

“Hey, cut it out.” Yeonjun nudges Beomgyu even harder to make him stop.

“He won’t stop listening to it. He has it on repeat 24/7.” You look at Yeonjun, surprised, as he can’t meet your gaze. “Really?”

“Is she the girl you said you liked? She looks a lot like her.” Beomgyu’s clearly said too much since Yeonjun glares at him while your eyes go wide. “I’m sorry?” Your gaze shifts over to Yeonjun.

At that, a tray of iced americanos and chocolates are served, Beomgyu picking up the tray at once. “Well, I’ll bring this back down since you two are still chatting.” Yeonjun quickly swipes his own drink from the counter as Beomgyu waves a quick goodbye before making his way to the elevator.

“So…” You look at Yeonjun as your own order is served. “You like me?”

He’s at a loss for words, unsure of how to respond. There was no use of lying anyways. “I guess you could say that…” He mutters, watching you sip from your straw as his grip on his own cup gets tighter. “I get that we can’t move forward with this. Call it admiration.”

“But do you really like me?”

He pauses again. “Yes. I do.” This time, he sounded more sure.

“What do you like about me?”

Lost in thought, Yeonjun recollects everything he knows about you. “A lot. Um, I like your smile. I like your resilience. I like the way you aren’t afraid to take creative liberty with your projects. I… admire your leadership. You take such good care of your members that I can understand why you all have such good harmony. I’m envious of that sometimes.”

What struck you deeply was the fact that the qualities he listed had nothing to do with your appearance. It was merely who you were as a person. For him to love the aspects of you that were apparent but subtle, it made you fall in love with him almost instantly.

“I, um–“

“Let’s walk and talk. I mean, while we go back to work.”

“Yes– yes, of course.”

It takes a few extra seconds for the elevator door to close after you both entered. “Y/N, I understand we can’t… y’know. You’re probably preparing for your next comeback and–“

“I want to try and make this work.”

He looks at you, dumbfounded. “Really? But–“

“I know there’s risks. I know our careers could be ruined. But… no one’s ever talked about me in the way you did. I wouldn’t mind losing my fame if it meant being with someone that truly appreciates me.”

He feels his face heat up, struggling to find the right words again. “So… so– you like me too.”

This time, your eyes stray from his. “Yeah. Maybe just a little bit.” You both laugh at the situation you found yourselves in. What a coincidence. “We have to be really careful. We might already be busted from the cameras in here.”

“I don’t think they pick up audio.”

You sigh. “That’s a relief.”

The elevator door opens on your floor. “I’ll see you later.” You say, stepping off.

“I’ll text you!” Yeonjun replies as the doors begin to close on him.

So much just happened in the span of 15 minutes.

─────────

“Thank you, Beomgyu for oversharing.” You laugh. “What happened when you got back to your dorms after?”

“I yelled at him.”

“Why?”

“I got mad at him but then also told him thank you but didn’t tell him why I said thank you.”

You snicker, placing your hand on the armrest of the chair.

“So, I’m assuming he asked you out first?” The interviewer asks.

“Yes, I did.”

“And how was that?”

─────────

It’s late at night, and you’re dropped face first on your couch while the broadcast of Inkigayo plays faintly in the background.

“Y/N, are you okay?” Your roommate and member, Haeun, asks, staring at you with great concern on her face. You tiredly hold up a thumbs up as she walks into her room. “Goodnight…” She says.

“Night…” You reply, half-asleep.

A knock at the door drives you out of your sleepy state as quickly as it had settled in. You approach slowly, planning to mutter a few words and get it over and done with until you see who’s at the door.

“Yeonjun.”

You looked like a hot mess right now, buried in the length of your hoodie with your hair unkept and messy. “What– what are you doing here?” You ask, desperately trying to make yourself look the least bit presentable.

He looks around quickly before pulling out a bouquet of flowers from behind, enjoying the surprised look on your face.

“Y/N, can I take you out on a date?”

For as long as you have been talking, you never expected to be asked out on your first date like this, so sudden and unexpected.

“Are you serious?” You ask, taking the bouquet from him in awe.

He nods. “I figured sooner is better than later to ask you so I can plan stuff out and–“

“Of course I’ll go on a date with you!”

The brightest smile appeared on your face, contrasting with how you looked at the moment, but Yeonjun didn’t seem to mind. All he cared about was the pure bliss that came from your reaction, and the mutual feeling of excitement that lingered between the two of you.

“But… this is really sudden; where did this come from?” You ask, looking at him.

“I didn’t want to wait anymore. I like you, you like me, I really enjoy talking to you and I just– I know we can make this work.”

You’re stunned, merely staring at him and the flowers without a word.

“How do you know for sure?” You finally speak.

“How do you think we’re still talking like this without anybody else finding out?”

When you don’t respond, he chuckles, messing up your hair like how it looked before. His hand moved down to your cheek, watching your eyes move from his hand to his face as he cupped your face.

“I’ll get going, otherwise I’ll worry the rest of my group.”

“Okay.” You respond, breathless.

“I’ll see you tomorrow? Hopefully we can talk more.”

“Yeah.” Your tone is airy and light as if you’re stuck in a dream. He chuckles again at your reply, pinching your cheek. “Bye, Yeonjun…”

“Bye Y/N. Get some rest.” He says as he walks away. When he’s a safe enough distance, you lean against the door until it’s completely shut, locking it as your mind races at a million miles per second.

The door to Haeun’s room opens as she looks at you with wide eyes. “What happened here?” She asks.

“Nothing! Nothing happened!” You panic walk into your own room as Haeun trails behind you, bombarding you with a bunch of questions.

“Y/N, who are those from?!”

“Nobody!”

“Who was at the door? Tell me!”

“No! No one was at the door!”

“Y/N!”

─────────

“You came when I looked like a mess; I was so embarrassed…”

“You looked cute.” You pinch his cheek as he pouts playfully, hand subconsciously resting on top of his.

You aren’t used to it, holding hands with him in a professional setting like this. But the feeling is natural, comfortable, and welcoming. You both could hear a collective “aww” from the crew behind the camera, making you both giggle.

Though unprompted, you elaborate on the topic. “So… Yeonjun loves talking about our first date for some odd reason.”

He sighs. “It was the moment that I knew you were the one for me.”

“We snuck out and ate barbecue.” You scoff.

“Then had a drunken walk home. I got to hold you in my arms for the first time.”

“Don’t remind me of that…”

He chuckles again, thumb brushing over the back of your hand.

“You were cute.”

─────────

“Yeonjun, I can walk on my own juuuuuussst fiiiinne…” You stumble over your own feet, prompting him to catch you.

“Let’s go back home.” He laughs, supporting you with your arm wrapped around his shoulders.

“Noooo, not yeeet…”

“I didn’t expect you to get so drunk…” He mutters.

“Yeonjun, you’re so nice…” Your words slur together, almost unintelligible. “And you’re so handsome too… you should dye your hair darker! Black! Black would look good!” Your hand goes up to play with his hair. “How are you so handsome, it’s confusing…”

“I’m– I’m not that handsome–“

“Yes, you aaaareee!” Your hands messily cup his face. “Your eyes, your lips, your entire face…” You lean into his shoulder again, letting him support you once more. “And nice… so nice…”

“Thank you, Y/N…”

“You treat me so well… I’ve never been–“ You hiccup. “–been so deserving. Why are you so nice?! Am I too mean? People– people say I’m mean sometimes.”

“You aren’t mean, Y/N…” He starts, preparing to ramble about something you probably won’t remember the next morning. “I think… you just want everyone to work hard so they do their best, and you’re taking charge of that role. You’re really influential, Y/N. And…” He mutters softly. “You’re also really beautiful.”

You giggle. “You really think so?”

A smile creeps onto his face. “I know so.”

When he reaches your dorm room, he waits patiently for your roommate to open the door after a failed attempt to find your keys in your bag. The door opens with an unfazed Haeun.

“I’ll take care of her.” She takes you off his arms.

“No– Haeun! I wanna stay with Yeonjun!”

“Yeonjun needs to go and rest!”

“But I miss Yeonjun!”

“You saw him 5 seconds ago! He’s still at the door!” She helps you into your room before rushing back to the door. “Thank you.” She mutters quietly, closing the door quickly.

“Haeun, where is Yeonjun!?”

“Back at his dorm!”

“Yeonjun!”

─────────

“‘Yeonjun! I miss Yeonjun!’” He mocks, laughing at the memory. “I could hear you from outside your dorm.”

“I get really whiny when I’m drunk, don’t blame me!”

“I like taking care of you anyways, so it works out for me.”

“Speaking of which– Yeonjun gets me a lot of gifts. Surprises me out of nowhere.”

“And do you still have them?” The interviewer asks, making Yeonjun look at you hopefully.

“Yes, I do.” I smile. “There’s usually flowers in my dorm because he gives me so many, and all the plushies he gave me I still have in my room.”

“Which one is your favourite?” He asks.

“The first one you ever got me. You named it Daniel.” You recall as a proud look appears on his face. “My English name. So it reminds you of me.”

“And it was a fox too, wasn’t it? You posted a few photos.” The interviewer speaks up again, receiving some nods from you. “It was your soft launch for your relationship… but people didn’t really know at the time, did they?”

You agree. “Right, because… my manager ended up finding out, unsurprisingly, but it took them a while to figure it out. The companies knew, but the public didn’t. We really did our best to keep it as private as possible, but I couldn’t help it.”

“We actually have that post pulled up right now…” The post shows up on the monitor; it feels so nostalgic looking back at them.

“This was when I had blonde hair! Ah, that was so long ago…” You sigh, reliving all the memories at once merely from those photos alone.

“You’re so pretty, Y/N.” Yeonjun says out of nowhere, eyes glued to the screen. “Why, what– what did I do?” You laugh at the sudden compliment. “Do you like my hair dark or light like that?” You point at the screen.

“Dark. We match.” He smiles as certain parts are focused on the screen.

“So here’s your caption.”

daniel 🦊❤️

Yeonjun chuckles softly as he reads his own name.

“And the comments…”

The comments— well, at least one half of them:

Y/N SO PRETTYYY

such cuties

that’s gonna sell out so fast now 😭

AWWWW

The other half:

YEONJUN?

GUYS I MIGHT BE TRIPPING BUT ISNT YEONJUN’S NAME DANIEL…

im like 95% sure shes talking ab yeonjun

yeonjun’s english name is daniel and his emoji is a fox erm do you have something to spill y/n

“Now what did you think of everyone’s reactions to the post?”

“Well… my fans are quite smart but only some people figured it out, which surprised me. I saw all the articles made on it and honestly, I read them for fun. I remember sitting with Yeonjun in my dorm and scrolling through everything while laughing. I’m glad it didn’t turn into a whole thing, though. We were in the clear.”

“Yeonjun, what was your soft launch?”

“Y/N talked about her favourite song during a live and I posted it on my story. I picked the lyrics that reminded me most of her.”

“That’s smart, I should’ve been discreet like you…” You mutter.

“Less people noticed compared to Y/N, but somehow there was still an article on it? I thought it was funny when I read the whole thing.”

“Was it fun watching people speculate about your relationship?”

“Yes.” You both replied, in sync.

“And how was it when you both finally announced it?”

─────────

‘We have discussed with both artists and have confirmed they are in a relationship together…’

“Wow. Just like that?” You ask yourself as you read the statement over and over again.

“They’re blunt about it… and they did discuss it with us.”

You look over at Yeonjun, who’s clearly glued to his phone. “What did you just post?”

“How did you know?!” He groans. “I always know.” You go to his Instagram account and see he did, in fact, post something, but you were in the frame. You tap on it immediately to see multiple photos of the two of you, sometimes just you.

surprise ☺️💕

You stare at the caption as the comments begin to flood with shock and utter disbelief while Yeonjun speaks up. “I’ve been waiting to do that for so long.” You can hear the smirk in his voice.

“You’re gonna get in so much trouble.”

“For loving you? I can take it.” He gets up from the couch and walks over to you, putting his phone in his pocket. “We should… lay low for a few days.” He suggests.

“No shit…”

“Language.”

“You were swearing over the phone a few days ago.”

“Inexcusable.”

Haeun bursts through the door, holding her phone out in front of her with Yeonjun’s post open, panting aggressively. “What the fuck is this?!” She yells.

“So much for language…” You mumble, feeling Yeonjun nudge you.

“Are you angry? Happy? I mean, you already knew…” He shrugs, mostly nonchalant.

“I’m very aggressively excited for both of you and extremely worried for Y/N.”

“What about me?” Yeonjun chuckles.

“I can hear your members screaming right now. They’re feeling the same things I am.”

Yeonjun feels his face heat up as you giggle beside him. “I guess we just have to wait and see how this all plays out.” You say, kissing his cheek. Haeun stares at the two of you in pure shock.

You smile at her. “What? You act like you’ve never seen us together before.”

After spending some time with you (and Haeun third wheeling) in your dorm, he goes back to his own, unlocking the door and entering without a second thought.

“I’m home.”

He isn’t fully aware of his surroundings, nearly getting a heart attack seeing Beomgyu in front of him.

“Ah– what the hell, man?”

“Yeonjun…” Beomgyu sniffles, though obviously not sad. “You’re actually so lame…”

“Huh? What did I do?”

“You testify to the executives and didn’t even mention my name once?!”

“He’s all butthurt because you didn’t give him credit for getting you guys together.” Taehyun chimes in.

Beomgyu fake sniffles again. “They never give the right people credit…”

“Hey, cut it out, Beomgyu, it already happened.” Soobin puts his hand on the sobbing man’s shoulder, as if he’d already dealt with this behaviour before.

“I’ll say something about you, Beomgyu, don’t worry.” Yeonjun reassures as if he was talking to a child.

“And give me the credit for getting you guys together?”

“What? No.”

“Fair enough.”

“Yeonjun, what are you gonna do now?” Hueningkai approaches him with his phone opened, showing articles upon articles posted online.

Yeonjun chuckles. “I guess… we’ll just have to wait and see how this all plays out.”

─────────

“And then there was that time on Suchwita with you and Taehyun?” The question is obviously directed towards Yeonjun, who lets out a light laugh.

“Ah, yes, I drunk called Y/N during filming…”

“He did more than that, by the way.”

“Do you really have to tell them what happened?”

“You get to tell a story about me being drunk, I get to tell a story about you being drunk.”

─────────

“Yeonjun? Yeonjun, are you there?” Suga giggles at his guest’s drunken state. “Huh?”

“Ah, okay, he’s still alive.” Taehyun jokes.

“Yeonjun, how is everything with Y/N?” Suga asks. Yeonjun’s face suddenly lights up at the question. “Oh, Y/N…” He says dreamily, drunkenly smiling.

“Y/N’s the… prettiest girl in the world… she’s super talented and she… scolds me a lot, sometimes when I drink too much…”

Suga’s gaze shifts between Yeonjun and the camera. “So you’re going to get scolded for being on this show then?”

Yeonjun tiredly lifts his head up, facing the camera. “Y/N, I’m… sorry!”

“Yeonjun, what are you doing?” Taehyun looks over at the older member, seeing him pull his phone out and open your contact. Suga realizes what’s going on. “Are you calling her?”

You pick up. “Hello?”

“Y/N!” Yeonjun drags as he speaks into the phone. “Y/N, I love youuuu.” He hiccups.

There’s nothing on the other end for a few seconds.

“…Are you drunk?”

His face drops. “I’m sorry, Y/N…” You can practically hear him pouting on the other end.

“Yeonjun, I told you to be careful while filming…”

“I know…”

“How much soju did you drink?”

“It’s whiskey.” Taehyun cuts in.

You mentally facepalm as you hear drunken sappy love confessions spill from Yeonjun’s mouth. But you can’t deny how flustered it’s making you.

“Seriously? It isn’t as strong, but…” You sigh. “Please take care of him, Taehyun.”

“Bye Y/N, I… love… you!” Yeonjun stumbles over his words, per usual, giggling into the phone.

You pause. “I love you too, Yeonjun. Take care.”

You hang up since he’s clearly too out of it to do it himself.

“Yeonjun, you’re embarrassing.” Taehyun deadpans, making Suga laugh from the other end of the table.

─────────

“You two just continue to go viral.” The interviewer laughs off camera, making the both of you laugh as well.

“Our relationship is like any other, yet people really make it seem like it’s a big deal…” Yeonjun states with an awkward expression on his face.

“This is a first step towards more open relationships in K-pop. How does it feel paving the way for such opportunities for other idols?”

“Honestly… we got really lucky. I think everyone was more surprised than angry? Of course, there was still hate, but it didn’t really affect me. I was more concerned about the safety of my group and his group rather than myself. I promised to take the blame for anything directed towards us, but not a lot ended up coming.” You explain, looking over at Yeonjun for him to elaborate.

“Yes, we were very fortunate to not have so much hate after we announced everything. It’s nice seeing the fans so supportive, it’s really cute.” He chuckles just thinking about it. “I think… me and Y/N were on the same page with enduring the hate on behalf of our groups. It was a natural instinct for both of us since we were the direct subjects of the news. I wouldn’t wanna be caught up in this with anybody else.”

─────────

“This is new, isn’t it?” You say, referring to the interview that just wrapped up.

Both you and Yeonjun were waiting in the dressing room, seated together.

“Mhm. I enjoyed it, did you?” He replies.

“Yeah. I think we gave them a lot of content to work with.”

“Any more and the video would be an hour… this shoot would’ve been longer.”

“How could it go on for longer? We were chatting for hours!”

“Maybe we should apologize to the staff later.”

“We should.”

Yeonjun’s hand brushes over yours, and no matter how many times he does it, it always gives you butterflies in your stomach. While your face shows no change, he knows how it makes you feel, and how you feel right now.

He’s the only person that knows.

“I enjoyed that filming, really. We could be ourselves, no judgement.” He laces his fingers with yours. “I could hold your hand.”

Your eyes finally meet his, the look you two exchange full of love and gratitude.

“I’ve never felt so comfortable addressing everything.” You reply.

“Maybe you just needed some support.” You feel Yeonjun gently squeeze your hands reassuringly. “Was I enough for that?”

“You are and will always be enough for me and everyone, ‘junie.”

You see his gaze falter slightly, as he blurts out, “I really want to kiss you right now.”

His sudden words catch you off guard and have you stifling a laugh. “Really?” He nods in reply.

“I mean, if we can hold hands, we can surely kiss, can’t we?” You say.

“What if someone walks in on us?”

“They watched clips of us slow dancing, that is so much more embarrassing.”

Yeonjun chuckles at that, leaning forward. He’s too lost in your eyes to remember why his face is so close to yours until you finally close the distance, his lips against yours.

He tastes as sweet as his words and moves as meaningful as his desires. His hand goes to cradle your jaw while yours fall down to his shoulders.

He pulls away and rests his forehead against yours, staring into your eyes lovingly. He gets lost again but is brought back by the sound of your voice. “How was that?”

“Exhilarating.”

You laugh at his choice of words.

For a little while, the world is confined to you and him on the comfiest dressing room couch you’ve ever sat on, telling silly inside jokes at the ceiling while hand in hand.

The one thing that remains constant is you and him.

You wouldn’t have it any other way.

baby i’m comfortable with you, and you’re comfortable with me 🎧

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