#rosie day '23

[kimjiwoong]

Happy Birthday!!! I hope that this is the start of an amazing year of your life with positive changes and wonderful experiences! Also hope you have a great day today!

thank u so much for your lovely wishes 💞😭 wishing lovely things for u too!!

[milflewis]

well i'm curious, how many WIPs do you have?

uh. glances at my google doc. mb like . twenty three? but i’m only seriously writing in nine rn

[marciaillust]

I am in the process of succumbing to The Social Media FOBF (fear of being forgotten) so I'm gonna write a little update post (˶˃⤙˂˶)

With Ecdysis finally wrapped up I have officially entered the rest period. I'm not gonna lie to yall, I have never crashed emotionally so badly after a project, to point creativity seems like a chore. Some would even call it a burnout.

But I also know that I am currently in the most hectic part of the year, the prophesized summer of horrors I saw the writing on the wall for already in December '23, and this situation is not contributing to my journey of resting at all.

They are not real horrors and I am merely jesting but the situation is still somewhat emotionally taxing in a very normal and predictable way. Anyone who had to move back in with their family past the ripe age of 26 can probably relate, being in a position where you're expected to revert to your old role (of the eldest daughter, in my case) can be challenging, especially when those pants don't fit you anymore. But it is what it is, and it's temporary, too. (And it's not all bad, I love my family and my family love me lots.)

There's this flat I will be moving into, finally a place I plan to live in long term, unlike all these previous house shares and flats I've lived in 1 year max as a student or a young young adult. But that place requires a ground up renovation and to be furnished and if you ever had to spend your weekends driving around town looking for tiles you know that it's its own brand of taxing. Alongside all this, it's work as usual. And I paint for a living so. little rest in the creative department there, too.

All this to say I am just really tired. Really really tired. Really really really tired. It will pass, but currently my time is not my time - it belongs to everyone around me.

And it will pass, it will pass. And I'll rest and find the space to be creative. Though "burnt out" I think I'm slowly starting to brim with potential creative pursuits. But before I do anything the summer of horros must settle into the autumn of resting.

I am positively ITCHING to draw the Clockmaster. If you've spent this long reading (puts a hand on your shoulder) buddy there are already 5 new clockmaster pages in existence. Fresh of the press, 2024 made, still warm still sizzling. I drew them last month between days of packing Ecdysis orders. They will stay in the vault for now because as I said in previous TCM related posts I plan to release the story in big meaningful chunks now rather than page by page like I used to. So it will be some time before you see them. But brother (squeezes the hand that is still on your shoulder) (visibly tears up) it's so good to be feeding the brainworms again. Orion I love you Rosie I love you Garret I love you Catherine I love you and- and- and there is a new character joining us too! You haven't seem him yet, obviously, but I think you could easily guess who he is. I can't wait for all of you to meet him.

I'll see you on the other side friends!!!

[vetteltea]

Carlos Sainz and Hot Cocoa and Warm Hands [no warnings]

Day 5 of the Vetteltea Advent Calendar

Note: There’s nobody I’d ever want to dedicate a Carlos Drabble to more than his actual WAG, @silverstonesainz. Dani, not only are you such a creative, kind, beautiful and talented creator, you’re also one of the greatest friends I could ever ask for. I could not be more thankful that we crossed paths and that our stupid love of Spanish men brought us together. I love you so much, sweetpea. 

It’s blistering cold in central Madrid, something you hadn’t witnessed since moving to the city with your boyfriend. 

It wasn’t entirely your fault for not climbatising; after all, three days after settling into his home, the two of you had been whisked away to Las Vegas and Abu Dhabi, your body so overwhelmed from the Jet Lag that you had done nothing but sleep and watch with wide eyes as Carlos drove the SF-23 to the absolute best of his ability. 

‘Only one more race,’ you had reminded him, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek when he had clambered out of the car, wanting nothing more than for this season to be over. He was fairly certain the entire team felt the same. Every team felt the same, if you took away Red Bull.

No, what Carlos was excited for was to take a step away from the track, the bright lights and shades of red he was dressed in each weekend. The man had actually passed on the farewell party in Abu Dhabi; he had already said his farewells to the drivers and wanted to get back on the plane and take you home. After all, this would be the first time you could be together in your new home for more than three days. 

The man would have been content to leave his suitcase in the walkway, lift you into his toned arms and bury the two of you underneath the blankets on his bed, silent from the outside world. However, as the days move by, Christmas begins to draw close enough for the two of you to put up decorations, bake cookies and watch movies. He’s never been this domesticated, not with any of his other girlfriends. He didn’t feel comfortable; Carlos has always been seen as a strong male, built with golf, gym and driving. 

And yet…with you, he could relax. He could smile as you wiped flour on his tanned cheek, kissing you whilst another Hallmark movie played from the television system. Carlos remembered his father’s gruff voice, insisting that when he found the right woman, everything would change. Now, as his fingers laced with yours, dressed in his long winter jacket that you had insisted went well with your outfit, he finally understood.

The two of you had left your blissful home and Piñon for long enough to meet his family in the city. It wasn’t your first time meeting the Sainz’s, but Blanca had recently taken a new position in the city, whilst his mother had insisted they needed a reunion now you had moved in with her son. 

Of course, you were all too excited to see them, unlacing your fingers from your boyfriend and dashing over to be scooped into the warm arms of your (one day,) Mother, Father and Sister’s in law, kisses pressed to your rosy cheeks and stories spread whilst you linked arms with Ana. Carlos stepped in line with his father, the elder man patting his son on the back. 

“Ha sido bueno desde que se mudó aquí, ¿no?” He asks if everything has worked out since you had moved in; the grin on Carlos’ face answers the question. 

“Perfecto.” He answers, springing into a spiral of how each moment, something as simple as waking up or making the bed was now romanticized, simply because you were there to share the moment with him. 

Eventually, the group of you stop by the central grand-stand, traditional Christmas Music being played to everybody in the city. Your boyfriend takes the moment to slip an arm around your shoulder, his taller frame pulling you into his chest and a soft kiss pressed against your temple, beaming at having you in his touch. His brows tighten when he laces his fingers back into his palm, pulling away as if he had been violently shocked. 

You’re confused, watching him mumble to both of his sisters, his mother, before tapping his father on the shoulder, the two Sainz men stepping away from the group. Curiosity willed you to keep your eyes trained, until Reyes cooed in delight, drawing your attention back to the stage as a group of children stepped on, ready to sing carols to the festive crowd. 

The performance has you in such a trance that you don’t recognise your boyfriend’s return until you feel a hand on your lower back, turning in his touch, eyes widening when you see the deep red takeaway cup, filled with a rich, dark chocolate liquid. Your heart softens as he hands you the cup, seeing each of the women had been given an identical cup, letting the warmth spread across your fingers as you take a sip.

It’s heavenly; you’re almost certain you’ll be dragging the poor boy back into the city at any given moment simply so you could try this drink again. He wouldn’t mind, he would happily replay this moment in his mind for an eternity, so long as it was always with you. 

The cup is lifted to his own lips, your own eyebrows raising as you wordlessly offer him a sip of the drink. Ana and Blanca are intensely focused on the interaction, their younger brother taking a sip of the drink and beaming at you, passing the hot drink between one another until the cup is empty. 

“Are your hands a little warmer now, Cariño?” He’s concerned; although there’s a delight in being here with you, he doesn't want you to get too cold. Before you can answer his question, he simply takes your two hands into his own, cupping them in his larger palms and pulling them upwards to his lips, leaving soft kisses against your skin. 

“You’re so cheesy.” You tease, taking delight in how he laughs like a schoolchild, pulling you into his chest and pressing a soft kiss to the top of your head. 

“Only for you.” 

[ofmdrecaps]

07/05-06/2024 Daily OFMD Recap

TLDR; Rhys Darby; David Jenkins; Nathan Foad & Con O'Neill; Leslie Jones; Nat Torres; Darby Family Foster Kittens; Articles; Fiber Arts Brigade: Auction/Fundraiser Updates/Bronson Pinchot Cameo; Uproar in the UK; Fan Spotlight: Cast Cards; OurFlagMeansFanfiction/BabyKrakenPodfics; OFMD Themed Earrings; Love Notes; Daily Darby/Today's Taika

== Rhys Darby ==

More coverage of Rhys' new show The Hungry Games! This time on Today.com.

Source: Rhys Darby's Twitter

Annnd more shots of Rhys and Bonus Rosie & Finn at the Great Big Cow Band Concert on July 4!

Source: Rosie Carnahan Darby's Instagram

Annnnd yet another Tural Commercial for FFXIV!

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by FINAL FANTASY XIV (@ffxiv)

Source: FFXIV's Instagram

== David Jenkins ==

Well the last two days were big clowning days for everyone! Early Friday we had Chaos Dad commenting on a tweet from March.

Source: David Jenkins Twitter Next, fans noticed that the "Got a really good feeling about 2024" post that David took down from Instagram was re-added. Our friend cremeishere noticed that the post had been removed from David's Instagram after one of the cancellations (around March 22). Today however, it was noticed that it was back. Do we know exactly when it came back? No idea-- but Honking ensues!

Source: CremeIsHere's Twitter

And if that wasn't enough honking, our friend Jules mentioned the following from Kinga's recent post about Simone LeBone, "When dad is working we're napping" and asked "what is he working on"? Good question.

Source: TheRevengeBoys Twitter

== Nathan + Con ==

Nathan posted some more about his spotlight in the Hot Shots publication, and our dear Con wrote him a lovely love note <3

Source: Nathan Foad's Instagram

== Leslie Jones ==

Leslie's been out to the LA Sparks game!

Source: misterjt319 Instagram

== Nat Torres ==

One of our awesome writers, Nat Torres, is making a rare appearance on Instagram.

Source: Natalie Torres Instagram

== Darby Family Foster Kittens ==

As we all know, I'm a sucker for kittens! Here's new Darby Family Foster Kitten content!

Source: Rosie Carnahan Darby's Instagram

== Articles ==

@adoptourcrew Found some very interesting articles regarding the cancellation of OFMD. In addition-- the #1 from Collider is adding to the Honkfest going on!

10 Canceled TV Shows That Deserve to Be Revived

Source: Adopt Our Crew's Twitter

"I Tear Up Every Time I See It": Here Are 23 Romantic Movie And TV Moments Without The Words "I Love You"

Source: Adopt Our Crew's Twitter

== Fiber Arts Brigade ==

The Fiber Arts Brigade reached their next tiered goal! They've raised $1750 with the #ThriveAsACrew campaign to support SageUSA! Thank you to everyone who's donated!

An anonymous donor was kind enough to pay for another cameo in honor of FAB reaching the fourth tier goal! Below is a video from Bronson Pinchot on his (and Ned Low's) advise on how we can ThriveAsACrew!

The Fiber Arts Brigade Ebay Auctions are ALMOST DONE! If you were bummed to miss out on Moosh's cross stitch commission from the AOC raffle, here's another chance! Check out the ebay listing here! Thank you to all the artists and patrons of this auction!

Source: Fiber Arts Brigade Twitter

== Uproar In The UK ==

Thank you @adoptourcrew for keeping us apprised of the UK Release of Uproar on Prime video! Check it out UK Crew!

Source: Adopt Our Crew's Twitter

== Fan Spotlight ==

= Cast Cards =

Tonight's cast cards from @melvisik are Nathanial Goodman who's "another submission for ‘Outstanding Cinematography in a Comedy Series for Impossible Birds’ -AdoptOurCrew"! And Jaden McLeod -- "Soldier #1 in Mermen, no doubt someone who came across Ed and/or the crew of the Revenge..."

Source: @melvisik's Twitter

== Our Flag Means Fanfiction ==

Our dear friends over at Our Flag Means Fanfiction are moving up the charts on spotify!

Annnd coming up this Monday, a New Episode - The Silly Voices Episode, this time joined by BabyKraken Podfics!

Source: Our Flag Means Fanfiction / BabyKraken Podfics

== OFMD Themed Earrings ==

I would just like to say I love all of the beautiful and creative ways everyone continues to honour our favourite show! The darling @paleoleigh has been making OFMD Themed Earrings and she was kind enough to allow me to share some of her work! You can learn more on PaleoLeigh's Tumblr Post and if you're interested, order them on her Etsy Store!

Source: PaleoLeigh's Tumblr Post

== Love Notes ==

Hey there Lovelies! I hope you all are getting some much needed rest this weekend! It's been a lot lately, huh? The world, elections, so many different countries struggling, online -- everywhere's been pretty crazy lately. I know a lot of you have so much on your minds, and rightly so. When so much is happening all at once, seeing struggles go on in your safe spaces too can make things so much harder to cope with. It is okay to feel sad or upset if your safe space doesn't feel the same way it did right now. It doesn't mean it won't feel safe again one day. Life and situations ebb and flow, and circumstances change, as much as we always want good things to stay the same. Good things can come from change too. Our magnificent and kind friend @xray-vex shared a screenshot on twitter the other day of this tumblr post and I thought it was incredibly appropriate to how a lot of people have been expressing they've been feeling lately.

I know sometimes it feels like you have to respond to that tweet, or get into that discourse, but if you don't have the energy, just remember you don't owe anything to anyone. You are wonderful the way you are, and you deserve to enjoy your space too. If it feels like too much, take a break, watch a new show, read a new book, step away if you need to. Or if re-watching our pirate show would help-- feel absolutely welcome to do that too. Whatever YOU need for YOU. It will be different for everyone, and there is no shame in wanting to do something different to make you feel better. There will always be folks here for you if you decide to step away and come back, so don't be afraid to if you need to okay? We love you crew, we care so much about you, and your health. Be well <3

== Daily Darby / Today's Taika ==

Some BTS gif tonight for the discerning gif lover. Git courtesy of @dallonismysavior!

[thalialunacy]

[for the @calaisreno May Promptcation. two fills in one day wooooo that's how much i hate my job lolol]

(1) (2) (3) (4) (5) (6) (7) (8) (9) (10) (11) (12) (13) (14) (15) (16) (17) (18) (19) (20) (21) (22) (23) 24: imperfect (25) (26) (27) (28) (29) (30) (31)

The silence that greets John as he walks up the seventeen steps, bags of groceries in hand, is perfectly ominous. He's only been gone two hours, for God's sake.

… but he's kidding himself if he thinks Rosie & Sherlock can't do a significant amount of damage in twenty minutes, let alone two hours.

He resigns himself to a huge repair bill and/or an angry Mrs Hudson, and opens the door.

Sherlock is stood in front of the sitting room table, holding a squirmy Rosie. 'Hello, John.'

'Hi Daddyyyyy.'

John raises an eyebrow. 'She's very excited about something.'

Sherlock clears his throat and looks down momentarily. 'Yes. Well. We may have had an exciting…incident.'

John sets the bags down on the kitchen table then walks back to face them. He runs his eyes over his daughter, but doesn't see any obvious damage. 'Any blood?' 

'Absolutely not,' Sherlock says immediately.

'On either of you?' John amends.

Sherlock shifts Rosie in his arms. 'Not important.'

'Alright, I'll bite. What is important, then?'

'Well, first we need to apologise, because we may have--'

'Broke bowl,' Rosie interrupts him firmly.

John shakes his head. 'We break bowls all the time, I don't--'

Sherlock moves aside, and John sees what's on the sitting room desk behind him.

'Oh,' he says shortly, his heart plummeting somewhere into his belly. On the table sits a sad pile of ceramic shards where once a handmade bowl had stood.

His eyes start to sting. John has very little left of his mum, and she'd been especially proud of that bowl. He can feel his heart rate increase as anger begins singing through him.

'I'm so sorry, John.' Sherlock's voice is low, and John's gaze snaps to him. His cool eyes are muddled with worry, and that's enough to jolt John into action.

'Need a minute, thanks,' he says, enunciating clearly, and Sherlock doesn't hesitate to nod, then reaches for a toy with which to distract Rosie.

John closes his eyes and doesn't count to ten; instead he forces air into his lungs, pictures his baby girl, and begins to count her toes and fingers. This he does, over and over and over again, until he can breathe, until he feels the anger slip and slide on its way, transforming into resignation and maybe even a glimmer of acceptance.

It is what it is.

He opens his eyes and breathes out. His body feels loose, almost depleted, but the red haze is gone. 'What happened?' he asks, throat a bit rough, as he approaches the table. Part of the bowl is actually intact, though there are a few small cracks running along it like wrinkles.

'We were playing aeroplane,' Sherlock explains, 'and her feet made an unexpected landing, one could say.'

John's lips twitch. 'And you're all right? You didn't try to heroically save the shards and end up slicing your hand open?'

Sherlock's face-- John's not sure what to make of it, exactly, but he has the feeling that as soon as they've settled in for the night he's going to have the living daylights kissed out of him. He is very much on board.

'It's just a little cut,' Sherlock says. 'And I already have a plaster on it.' He shifts Rosie and holds up the wounded finger in evidence.

It's a Sesame Street plaster, and that for some reason breaks John. He feels laughter shake through his limbs. 'Oh, Christ,' he says, wiping his eyes and looking up at Sherlock. A final chuckle escapes him, then he nods. 'You know what we're going to do?'

'What are we going to do?'

'We're going to declare that what was once a bowl is now an ashtray. In its final form, like.'

Sherlock lets out a surprised huff of laughter. 'An ashtray, you say?'

Rosie is not to be left out. 'What's ash tray?'

John and Sherlock exchange a look, but Sherlock speaks first. 'Something that will sit on our shelf, right here--' He walks over to the bookshelf by the fireplace. '--right next to the one that we s--'

John clears his throat.

'--acquired from the Palace.'

Rosie perks up, no longer interested in the ashtrays one little bit. 'Palace?'

Sherlock realises he's landed into some Prince & Princess Time a split second too late to do anything about it. 'Yes, palace,' he ad libs. 'In the sky!'

Rosie's eyes go wide, and the corner of John's mouth turns up. 'Well done.' He walks over to where they're standing and kisses them both. 'I'm going to put away the groceries and see about tea, all right?'

Sherlock leans in and kisses him again before he can move away. 'Thank you,' he says quietly while shifting Rosie to his other side. 'I know that's difficult for you.'

John nods in acknowledgement, and picks up the newly-christened ashtray one more time. 'Looks a little… rough, but should work fine.'

'It has character,' Sherlock replies.

'Personality.'

'An origin story.'

'A palace!' Rosie interjects, throwing her hands up in the air.

John's grin matches Sherlock's smirk. 'Close enough.'

[ <3 ]

And we get a little further from perfection Each year on the road / I think that's called 'character'; I think that's Just the way it goes

[inspired by 'Imperfectly' by Ani Difranco, from the album Imperfectly, which I have been listening to obsessively bc of this, and it's been a marvellous, self-indulgent time.]

[tonicandjins]

frequent flyers | lee donghyuck

CHARACTERS: haechan | lee donghyuck x fem reader

WORD COUNT: 13k

GENRE: angst, fluff, smut (non-linear) | best friends to strangers

AUTHOR'S NOTE: read with caution. this is written in a non-linear form, so you don't know when it's going to hurt ;) this is a dh x reader version of my markhyuck fic from ao3, but with a different ending

frequent flyers is the third installment from 23 moments with donghyuck

Donghyuck looks beautiful like this: skin glowing under the dainty string lines and lined up lanterns hanging from the high ceilings, lips curled up to genuine smile instead of the usual teasing smirk plastered on his mouth, cheeks tainted in berry red—a single manifestation of the glasses of wine he’s had tonight, eyes round and sincere and everything you’ve ever known.

Zhong Chenle’s mellifluous voice echoes in the banquet, singing to the tune of lover as the newly weds take their first dance (third song in) in the middle of the floor, surrounded by couples and lovers swaying. From your peripheral view, you catch a glimpse of Park Jisung sneaking his phone out and recording the whole thing—after Chenle clearly mentioned no one else aside from the newlyweds’ assigned videographer is allowed to film him.

On other days, you’d love to listen to Chenle’s golden voice, and he knows this because from all the years you’ve known him, you’d supported his career and you’d spend many hours sitting in his studio, listening to him record, or sitting somewhere halfway across the world, watching him write his songs. I can listen to him sing all day, you’d say, but as the night jumps deeper into its darkness, you realize how excruciatingly long his 15-minute medley went by.

You look across the room.

Donghyuck looks enthralling like this: beautiful even after all these years, charming like he’s the day he turned 21, grown, earnest, and at ease. It’s agonizing to look at from where you sit across the room—hands wrapped around her waist, eyes closing as he leans in, drunk, drunk, drunk like the night you’d left him, heart void of you.

You begin to count.

At 27, you’re pretty much done with all kinds of romance the world could offer.

Unlike the person sitting next to you, you prefer to listen to Blushing Youth than watch some high-rated romantic comedy film during your 12-hour flight from Heathrow to Incheon, and while you’ve been moving around for most of your life (having earned your nickname as frequent flyer, credits to Jisung), flying is not one of the things you’re fond of. In fact, it’s not in the long list of strengths you brag about in your LinkedIn bio. You reckon it would truly be embarrassing, to say the least, to ask a stranger to distract you from the sound of the aircraft’s engine running at full power as it takes off from the runway, hence you opt to blast Ahn Jiyoung’s voice right in your eardrums.

It’s odd, people would say, for someone who’s supposedly mastered the art of moving from one country to another to be so terrified of flights, but if people want you to be completely honest, nothing sounds more horrifying than the thought of seeing Lee Donghyuck after years of radio silence.

As pathetic as it sounds, your heart still skips a beat—three, sometimes—at the thought of him.

Donghyuck, who used to be your sun, who had you orbiting around his gravitational pull for years, who used to be so close but not enough to have, who—if you think about it now—might have never been the center of your solar system after all, but maybe just a shooting star passing by.

The plane takes off, roughly and loud like you’d expected, and you catch a glimpse of a scene from Love, Rosie from the person sitting beside you and immediately regret going coach instead of flying business like how you would if your flights last more than ten hours. You hate this film; you hate it because Alex is to Rosie, like how Donghyuck is to you.

Alex and Rosie, like you and Donghyuck, are—were—long-time best friends who used to be inseparable until one day they’re not. Rosie misses her chance. Alex stops yearning, hoping, waiting, and finally decides to get on with his life. It’s a story of a bunch of tangled webs—a messy tumbleweed of missed calls and delayed flights, of long nights and short days, of forgotten promises and faded hope.

The film introduces new people, bids goodbye to old chapters, but in the end it’s Alex and Rosie.

And you wish that’s how your story went. You don’t end up kissing him in your very own hotel with an awe-striking view of the horizon right outside the window.

You bury the thought before you start missing him again. You run out of tracks from Blushing Youth’s discography like how you run dry from thinking about what happens next when your plane lands.

Might as well sleep it off.

A sharp, jabbing pain on your left leg wakes you up from your unscheduled sleep. Hissing, you find Donghyuck sitting on top of your legs.

“I swear to God,” you breathe, kicking your best friend’s weight off your limbs. “I will freaking kill you.”

“Dude, what’s wrong with saying fuck? You’re literally twenty,” Donghyuck replies, moving further so his entire body crushes yours, and you have to pretend that his warmth doesn’t make you feel some type of way, hence you push him as hard as you can until he falls onto the carpeted floor of your room.

He falls with a thump. “Screw you,” he mumbles, mouth forming a pout that you’d gladly smack out of his face—except you’d do it with your very own lips. “It’s almost one in the afternoon. Why are you napping?”

“Good question, Donghyuck,” you start, sitting up and rubbing your eyes while looking for the pair of specs that Donghyuck is already shoving towards your direction; you gladly take it. “Unlike you, I had to work in the café until one in the morning. I hate being rostered in the closing shift, but it pays damn well. Plus, I forgot to do my laundry so I had to throw my clothes in before I slept.

“Overworking again, I see,” he muses, sighing as he scoots to sit cross-legged across you on the bed too tiny for two people.

“The last week of the semester always sucks balls,” you answer, tilting your head in attempts to stretch your stiffened neck and get some kind of relief. “Why are you here anyway? Shouldn’t you be out there doing something stupid with Na Jaemin?”

“There’s a music festival on Friday,” he starts right away. “Jaemin’s wondering if I’d be interested to go, says he could get us some free passes from the guy he’s hooking up with. Apparently, the guy is DJ-ing.”

You blink. “Which one? Lee Jeno? Or Yoon Sanha?” you ask, genuinely curious because Jaemin is Jaemin and he could never be caught exclusively hooking up with one person.

Donghyuck shrugs. “Does it matter? Is it a yes or a no? That’s the question.”

He begins to fiddle with his fingers, playing with the rings on his long, delicate digits, and you recognize it almost instantly. Donghyuck is nervous. You might have an idea why.

“Is this you finally asking me out, Lee Donghyuck?” you half-joke, scratching your head. Donghyuck looks anywhere but your face. A glimpse of his eyes is all you need, because if the eyes are the windows to one’s soul, then Donghyuck’s are wide open, with no curtains and bare from all layers—at least that’s how they are to you. His eyes are wavering, and though he’s mastered the ability to keep his face tough as steel, those orbs could only do so little when it comes to hiding from you.

So, you smile, reaching out and leaning closer, kneeling until you’re face to face with him. “Only kidding, Hyuck,” you say finally, taking it easy because this conversation is not for one who’s hazy from sleep and one who can’t even look at the other in the eyes. “Of course, I’ll come with you. Who else can you bring anyway?”

Donghyuck looks up, rolling his eyes; he’s back. “You’re not really irreplaceable,” he replies smugly. “Don’t think too highly of yourself.”

You poke your tongue out and reach over your night stand to check your phone; at the same time, Donghyuck starts biting his fingernails. You don’t think twice—like blinking, a habit, natural—and reach out to pull his hand away, mumbling about how he should start working on getting rid of this bad habit of his. Donghyuck’s hand is warmer compared to yours, and he lets out a whine, complaining about your freezing hands, but squeezes you hand back anyway.

You are content with this. You hope Donghyuck is, too.

The lingering touches. The stolen kisses. The piercing glances.

While they all seem fleeting and simple, they mean the most to you. You begin to think if Donghyuck feels the same as he pulls you closer until you’re both back lying on his bed, your cheek resting on top of Donghyuck’s warm, cloth-covered chest. You wonder if he means it, when he says you’re not irreplaceable and that maybe you’re a little too comfortable, a little too satisfied with whatever it is that you have.

On a drunken night, Donghyuck may have asked you once. You remember it and think about it so much that sometimes it felt like a dream.

“How long, Y/N,” he had asked, his voice an octave deeper than usual, gaze a shade darker. “How long until you let yourself just lose it? For once, just—just please, let your feelings consume you.”

You didn’t want to—not then, not now—because it’s going to hurt.

It’s going to hurt because it’s Donghyuck.

It’s Donghyuck who feels like home, whose hands are warm enough for your cold ones, your own little sun. Losing him is the extinction of your solar system.

“Y/N,” he had whined when you didn’t reply, shaking you, pleading. “When are you going to want for more? I want you to ask me for more.”

But Donghyuck had passed out before you had the chance to think of an answer—time frame—and you wonder what your answer would have been if Donghyuck stayed awake for a couple more minutes.

“I guess napping at this time of the day doesn’t sound too bad,” Donghyuck murmurs against your hair, kissing it before relaxing. “Set an alarm for me. 3 pm.”

You hope Donghyuck asks you again, not this time, but you hope the question lingers in his mind a little longer.

He falls asleep to the sound of your breathing.

When the person sitting next to you finally wakes up, you could only sigh in relief.

The aircraft has landed a few minutes ago, and your flight seatmate slept so soundly that it took you a couple of minutes to shake her awake.

The 12-hour flight is a pain in the ass, and you wish you mean that figuratively. Waiting was something that you were once good at, and Renjun often told you he wished he had half the patience you had. If you think about it now and reflect whether you’re as patient and as willing to wait as before, you’d changed vastly. Ridiculous, how one could change so much in a lifetime.

Huang Renjun is standing behind a barricade when you finally reach the arrival area after going through immigration. He’s holding a piece of paper that says WELCOME HOME, Y/N! Renjun doesn’t give you the time to cross the boundary because he attacks you in bone-crushing hug the second he’s allowed to. You almost topple over him, your glasses at risk of either falling out of your face and into the cold, hard ground, or being crushed between your nose and Renjun’s shoulder.

Renjun chants your nickname over and over again, swaying both your bodies left and right as though you weighed nothing. “I’m literally about to combust. My chest has been pounding since I arrived here. You have no idea how much I missed you, and you were taking forever to go through immigration.”

“Oh, Huang Renjun,” you sigh, inhaling his scent and returning the hug. “Some things never change. You’re still the sweetest when you miss people. Absence really makes the heart grow fond.”

Renjun pulls away to get a good look on you. “Y/N, you’re all grown up. I can’t believe you resisted not seeing me in person for four years.”

“You’re just as grown up as I am,” you reply. “We Facetime each other every other day. What are you talking about?”

“It’s never the same,” he mumbles and helps you with your luggage despite it only being one small luggage, a small duffel bag, and your small backpack. He starts nagging as soon as he notices how small your baggage is.

“You were away for literally four years and you think packing three old shirts and a pair of jeans will be enough to get you through your entire trip here?” Renjun gasps. “You’re stupid if you think Chenle and Jisung are allowing you to leave after what we’re all here for. They have an entire month planned out the second you agreed to come home.”

“I didn’t bring only three shirts, for your information. And I did bring a few pairs of trousers and a coat, plus my dress for the wedding,” you defend. “And I can’t extend my trip here. I thought we’ve all got that one settled.”

Renjun laughs, as if what you said is some kind of joke, as he leads you towards the exit of the airport. “You know we would 100%, without hesitation, burn your passport if it means we could make you stay longer, don’t you? I hope you don’t underestimate us like that.”

You chuckle at his empty threat, your chest swelling at the thought of your long-time friends being thrilled of your arrival in Seoul. You wonder how much has changed in the last four years, and you reckon nothing much has when it comes to your friends. You’d left when most of you were twenty-three, and the only person you’d ever seen in person since then was Chenle, who at that time, had business in London so he stayed where you lived instead of a luxurious hotel he could afford.

“We’re heading to Chenle’s place,” Renjun announces as soon as you sit comfortably in the passenger seat of his car. “But he’s still in his studio recording something, so he won’t be around until maybe five.”

“Why are we going to Chenle’s place if he’s not there yet?” you ask. “He didn’t tell me he had work.”

“We’ve all worked around our schedules to meet you today,” Renjun explains as he turns the ignition on and starts backing up. “And everyone knows his home’s passcode. Remember back in college when his stupid fancy condo eventually became everyone’s? That’s still how it is now. Only this time, he owns a penthouse in Gangnam’s most expensive building. What a spoiled brat.”

“He earned it,” you comment.

Renjun hums. An old track from the local radio station plays just as the vehicle exits the airport’s parking area. You hadn’t heard this song in years, but your mouth sings the lyrics as though it’s only been yesterday.

Renjun is amused. “Some things never really change.”

Donghyuck suddenly changes his hair color on Sophomore year in college. You, on the other hand, are about to have an aneurysm.

Na Jaemin makes fun of you, laughs as if your reaction is the most hilarious thing he’s ever seen his entire life. He deems it as the best day of his life.

“Jaemin, am I a fucking joke to you?” you ask. Jaemin doesn’t even bother to answer. “You think this is funny?”

You almost choke on nothing when Donghyuck decides to walk towards the table you’re sharing with Jaemin inside the university’s very own cafeteria. He’s holding a tray of food for lunch. The man himself has a shy smile on his face, evidently aware of the attention that the people around are giving him because of his newly-dyed pink hair, and you can’t really blame anyone if they stared a little longer.

Because Donghyuck is already beautiful, with his shining eyes and glowing skin and a smile that could make the earth stop orbiting around the sun.

But this Donghyuck, Pink Sun as Jaemin had started calling him, he’s something else. You might pass out if you look at him a little longer.

“I told you pink looks amazing on you!” Jaemin exclaims as soon as Donghyuck is close enough.

Donghyuck instantly blushes, but covers it up with a smug smirk across his mouth.

“Careful,” Donghyuck warns. “I don’t want you getting hurt if I reject you.”

Jaemin gasps, “You would never!”

Donghyuck playfully sticks out his tongue on Jaemin and finally, finally, turns towards you. Your breath is caught in a hitch. Donghyuck tilts his head slightly and you’re about to punch himself in the face. 

“What do you think?” the man asks, smiling cheekily. “Do you think I look better blond or pink-haired?”

You swallow. It takes you great power not to pull Donghyuck and kiss him squarely on the mouth.

Blond Donghyuck was a menace in the society. Pink Sun is giving you a heart attack.

But you’re not about to make things too obvious, so you shrug and mutter a small “either is fine.” Jaemin kicks you under the table. Donghyuck sighs, taking out his phone to open its front camera, probably to check himself out as he brushes his fingertips in his hair. 

“You’re cheap, Y/N,” he says, putting his phone down. “I basically burn my scalp to get this hair color and pull it off better than Lee Taeyong ever will, and all I get from you is, ‘either is fine.’”

Jaemin laughs hysterically, taking his phone out as Donghyuck takes the empty seat beside you—like always, because seats beside you are always reserved for him. Donghyuck carefully places the tray of food he got, immediately, your eyes catch the extra drink he has and your heart somersaults because you know it’s for you.

And this is supposed to be normal. Your friends tell you it’s a routine—every day—and you and him do things for each other like second nature. So, why does it make your heart race like this?

Your phone chimes as Donghyuck starts eating.

“We really need to work on your communication skills,” the text message from Jaemin says.

Your comprehension in Korean went from bad to worse, if it’s even possible.

Renjun is currently roasting you for it, while Jisung and Kim Minjeong are arguing about what to eat. You tell them how small the Asian community in London is as compared to other countries. Jaemin announces that Mark Lee just boarded his flight from Vancouver, too, and you cheer, excited to see him as well after all these years. Yoo Jimin calls out Jisung and Minjeong’s bullshit and says she’d already ordered from the nearest restaurant.

How you all end up in Chenle’s penthouse before the owner himself is aware, you have no idea. All you know is that things have not really changed that much.

You feel a little disoriented, your mind still a little hazy from the 12-hour trip, and you hate that the jetlag is hitting you as early as now. You feel like you could fall asleep anytime soon.

Then you hear familiar voices faintly coming from the door, then the door itself being unlocked. You observe from the digital clock above Chenle’s fancy television that it’s only nearly two in the afternoon, so it’s not Chenle who’s coming in.

Donghyuck appears from the door before you realize it, and he takes your breath away before you could even look him in the eyes.

“Sorry, we’re late,” the dark-haired man says, his voice making you feel suffocated, stepping out of his boots because God forbid anyone who steps inside Zhong Chenle’s penthouse wearing the outdoor shoes.

Lee Jeno enters behind him, his eye smile ready to meet you, while Jaemin says they arrived just in time for lunch. All is a blur and everything sounds like white noise, because Donghyuck looks at you in the eyes with the softest gaze, the smallest smile, and suddenly it doesn’t feel so cold in Seoul.

Jeno walks past him and finds his space beside Jaemin. You hear Renjun and Jisung start arguing about another thing. All while Donghyuck stays still from where he stands, about ten feet away from your space, eyes still on you.

When they’re done dancing, Donghyuck walks with her, holding her hand and keeping her close.

He passes by, doesn’t even take a glance to your direction.

Donghyuck looks at you in amusement.

“It was terrible,” you grunt. “The worst day of my life.”

He giggles and pulls you in his arms, kissing the top of your head while you stand in the middle of the room. You’re still dressed in your warm clothes as you’d just arrived from the airport. You sigh in relief because you’ve been waiting for this all weekend.

“Don’t be too dramatic,” he mumbles. “Your cousin’s going to be ballistic if he learns that you called his wedding the worst day of your life.”

“You should’ve gone there with me,” you muse. “They were introducing me to so many people, and my uncle knows I’m shit at socializing, therefore forcing me to hang out with people I barely know is like stabbing me in the eye and asking me how many fingers you’re holding up.”

Donghyuck chuckles. “What could I have done if I were there?”

You smile, burying your face in his warm chest. “Absolutely nothing.”

“Then why’d you need me there?” Donghyuck asks again. You know he’s teasing you now, poking until he gets the answer he wants to hear. And you’re not about to deny Donghyuck of that. Besides, nothing is more satisfying than knowing you could make Donghyuck feel flustered despite of his strong, wild persona. So, you reach up and kiss him on the chin and hug him closer.

“Because nothing is as bad as it seems when you’re around, my love.”

Donghyuck begins to pull away, making you hold onto him tighter, as if your hands would grow cold without touching him. Donghyuck only laughs, allowing you to hug him longer, and you wonder if you could stretch this night out for as long as he can. 

The moment passes by quickly.

“Donghyuck, will you at least listen to me?”

“I’m done, Y/N.”

Renjun announces he’s done cleaning up.

Jaemin doesn’t waste a single second, getting up from his space on the other couch and announces it’s time they really catch up with everyone. It turns out that Jimin herself just got back from Germany yesterday as well, while Minjeong took a week off from work, and all had waited for you to come home before gathering in Chenle’s place.

“Mark’s a piece of shit, just like you,” Jeno comments when asked why the older didn’t take the earliest flight. Apparently, like yourself, Mark couldn’t get a couple of weeks off from work, hence he’d decided to travel a few days before the wedding, which is essentially why you all had a reason to gather once again after all these years.

“Why are you all harassing me and Mark for not being able to take a longer leave from work?” you whine, throwing a cushion towards where Jeno is seated, right beside Jimin. “It’s not like we can help it!”

Minjeong snorts, “You could’ve said you have COVID or something.”

You snicker. “Only you could think of that, Minjeong-ah.”

Jeno talks about his recent flight to Yonagunijima in Okinawa for a business trip. Renjun tells him he’s never gone that far in Japan, his farthest trip being in Osaka; Jeno says he can take him there anytime he gets some free time from work. Jaemin hypes up Jisung’s newly built dance studio and the contract he’d just signed with the biggest entertainment company in Asia, to which Jisung only downplays and says it’s not that big of deal.

You and Donghyuck stay quiet while everyone else talks over one another. He sits at the other end of the same couch you’re sitting on while Jisung occupies the space between you and him. Renjun probably feels the tension, so he cuts it.

“Donghyuck, what have you been up to?” Renjun asks, reaching over for a piece of chocolate you’d stolen from Chenle’s fridge.

Donghyuck shrugs. “Renjun-ah, don’t act like we don’t see each other every weekend.”

Renjun scoffs. “We’re here to catch up. Do you want me to tell them what you’ve been up to myself?”

Donghyuck throws a cushion and misses. “Nothing’s new about me, guys. Nothing that’s interesting enough.” Then, he leans forward and turns to you. “Maybe Y/N has anything to say. I mean, she���s the one who’s been away the longest.”

It takes you aback, the interaction unexpected, and gets you stuttering. “I’m—There’s really nothing, I mean.”

Donghyuck laughs lightly. “Loosen up. You look like you’d rather be elsewhere but here.”

“It’s not like that,” you defend. “It’s just—jetlag.”

“Of course,” Donghyuck nods. “How long was the flight?”

“Twelve hours,” you answer. Renjun does his best, distracting everyone else with a new conversation so you and Donghyuck, you assume, would feel more comfortable rather than have everyone listen to you talking with the person you used to know the best. Jisung tries to subtly leave, pretending like he needs to go to the restroom, and you know it’s a tactic because you also know Jisung like the back of your hand.

Donghyuck immediately moves closer, taking the space Jisung used to sit on, the distance pulling the air out of your lungs.

“And my flight was delayed for a couple of hours because of a storm,” you continue, clearing your voice. “So, fourteen hours in total, plus one hour from Incheon to Gangnam.”

Donghyuck nods. “Well, you fly frequently.”

You nod back. “Not that frequently anymore. Since the pandemic, I’ve been working from home a lot; there was no need to travel after all. Or move to a different country. It turns out we can do everything virtually.”

Donghyuck chuckles, almost sarcastically. “What a shame that the entire world realized suddenly that everything could work virtually.”

You smile, sadly almost. “Yeah. What a shame.”

“I didn’t get the whole thing,” Jisung sighs. “What a shame. The last parts were the best.”

“You know Chenle’s going to kill you if he finds out you took a video, right?”

Jisung nods proudly. “That was the point.”

“Lia, wait,” Donghyuck’s voice echoes—not loud enough to catch anyone else’s attention, but definitely enough for you. You watch him follow Lia out.

You decide you’ve had enough. The wedding’s done now, anyway. There’s nothing left for you here.

Jisung looks at you. “Y/N.”

“Just need some space, Jisung,” you say. “I’m okay.”

“You’re lying,” You gasp, almost dropping your iPad upon Donghyuck’s revelation. “Holy shit, Donghyuck, that’s huge!”

“Never thought I’d hear that in another context but thanks, my love,” Donghyuck replies, a proud smile etched on his mouth. He reaches over and shows you a piece of paper, the confirmation of his participation in a convention in Shanghai a couple of weeks from now. 

“Wait until Jaemin hears this,” You ramble, already on his phone to text said friend about the good news. “He’s going to throw a party for you.”

“You guys are too proud of me,” Donghyuck whines. “What if I end up being such a flop outside my comfort zone? There are going to be so many amazing artists out there. I heard some vocal majors from Konkuk are attending the conference with me, and I am already terrified of them. I can't imagine myself once I'm surrounded by even more talented and more intimidating singers."

You put down your tablet on your desk, sighing as you step closer towards Donghyuck. You’re in the apartment you share with Jimin, and Donghyuck called in earlier to tell you he’s got some great news. Neither of you really have much time to meet these days, with your internship at Seoul's biggest web developer company and the drastic changes in Donghyuck's schedule, it's a little too difficult to hang out in the safety of your apartment.

Donghyuck is evidently taken aback when you suddenly wrap an arm around his neck, tumbling when you pull him closer and kisses the air out of his lungs. You regret closing your eyes when your lips touch, thinking about the way Donghyuck looks like whenever you kiss him like this. Like Donghyuck's all you’ve ever needed. Like all the years of pining and hurting are expressed in a single kiss. Like it's everything you’ve always wanted and more.  

It's not the first time you kiss—you’ve lost count you made out in the back of Jeno’s car two months ago while all your friends are drunk and out of their minds—but it always feels like it is.

Donghyuck's lips are soft, soft, soft, and you can never get enough of the kissing him. The first, featherlight, a little hesitant touch of your lips would be your second favorite part (the favorite is when Donghyuck's licking your mouth and nibbles on your lower lip), and his hands, his delicate hands would always be in your hair, pulling and pressing and touching.

It's perfect. Donghyuck pulls you down with him on your very own bed, letting you sit on his lap.                   

He's kissing you everywhere, your lips, your cheeks, your nose, your neck, your jaw, but he stops when you begin to unbutton his shirt. You look down on him, confused and eager and dazed, and usually, Donghyuck would give in without a single fight, but this time he stops you. 

"What are we doing, Y/N?" Donghyuck lets out, like he's been holding this breath forever and now he's finally exhaling it.

"We're," you start, confused why he’s asking all of a sudden, but you don’t really have an answer to that. "We're—”

"Messing around. Having fun while we can," Donghyuck finishes, quoting your own words the first time you hooked up. "I know. But that was before, right? What about now? What are we doing now?"

Your hands drop on Donghyuck's side. Donghyuck quickly takes both of them in his, giving you a comforting squeeze, as if he's encouraging you to say something. To be brave. To let go. 

"We can't go on like this if you don't answer me, Y/N," Donghyuck says softly. "I know what I want, and you know that it's you. Just you. From the beginning. As long as I live. And you are making me happy right now. But I need to know if this is what you want, too."

"Love, I wouldn't be doing this if I didn't want you," you explain, eyes wavering.

"Y/N, listen to me," Donghyuck urges, letting go of one of your hands to hold your face so you could look into each other's eyes. "Tell me now. Tell me now, honestly, if this is something you would want in the long run."

"Donghyuck," You sigh, like you’re begging for Donghyuck to stop asking. But Donghyuck doesn't let his guard down. He keeps his hands on you, waiting.

You want nobody else but Donghyuck, too. From the beginning. For as long as you live. And Donghyuck is making you happy, and you know well that Donghyuck will make you happy in the long run. The last two months of whatever game you’re playing had been fun. There was no agreement on being exclusive, no rules of some sort, and it all fell into place like you and him are supposed to end up like this. You hadn’t put a label on it, but you and Donghyuck are best friends for many years now. You went through growing pains together, survived each one of the flights you frequently took around the world, went to the same college together, and you don’t really see the point of rushing for a label now.

Because you have other things in mind other than what you feel right now. You have codes to master and board directors to impress. Donghyuck has auditions to pass and flights to catch as well, and now, an opportunity in Shanghai. Not to mention you’re both cramming to have the best credentials to get you the best job after graduation. Now is not really the best time.

So, just like many happenstances in your life, you come up with a stupid, stupid answer.

"I—I don't know, Donghyuck," you say nervously. "I mean, you're clearly making me happy. And I don't plan on seeing anyone else, but I haven't really gotten around to think about it."

Donghyuck takes his touch away all of a sudden. You reach out to hold his hands in place back to your face, but he lets go.

"Think about it?" Donghyuck asks, voice shaking. "What is there to think about? It's a simple question, Y/N. Do you want me for a long time or am I just some good fuck for you?"

"Donghyuck, why are you saying that?" you retort, angry now. "I just said you make me happy. And I'm not playing with you. I just—it's—with all the things going on in my life and yours, a relationship is not something I can maintain right now."

"Maintain?" Donghyuck chuckles, pulling his hands away, gently pushing you off his lap and standing away from your bed to put some space between you and him. "Y/N, we've been best friends since we were in high school. Literally nothing has changed for us except we kiss and fuck now. What is there to think about? I really do not understand."

You sigh. The sound of it makes Donghyuck pull away further until he’s picking up his backpack. 

"Donghyuck, wait," You say, but Donghyuck is already out of his room, barefoot, his shoes in his hands.

Barefoot, his shoes in one hand, two bottles of beer on the other, Donghyuck finds you by the pool outside the wedding reception. He sits beside you and mimics the way you rolled the bottom of your dress up to your thighs so it doesn’t get wet and does the same with his expensive trousers.

“What are you doing out here?” you muse, eyes staring blankly at the way your feet look blurred out underwater. “Shouldn’t you be inside getting drunk and having the time of your life?”

Donghyuck chuckles, his cheeks painted like cherries, mouth glazed like strawberries, and hands you the cold bottle of beer. “I’m already drunk. Do you think I’d have the courage to come find you here if I was sober?”

You nod, taking the bottle from his hand. “Good point. Fun party?”

“Jaemin and Jeno never fail to organize the best party,” he stammers. “They used to invite everyone in their shared apartment to play the American games they learned from Johnny-hyung. I can’t believe they’re married now.”

Jaemin and Jeno, the very reason why all of you gathered after all these years, have always been destined for each other, and you know this because you’d seen them start off as nothing and watched them turn to everything. Their wedding had been the sole reason why you’d returned to Seoul.

“I always knew they’d end up together,” you mutter, drinking from the cold bottle. “I used to manifest it. I said it all the time I saw them together.”

Donghyuck giggles. “You used to believe in the law of attraction so much. You manifested everything that’s happened in your life.”

“I did, didn’t I?” you reply, tasting the bitterness coming from the drink, a reminder why you prefer any other drink aside from beer.

It’s quite for a minute until Donghyuck talks.

“Why didn’t you manifest us?” he says suddenly, words a little grumbled. He’s probably had too much to drink already. You hold onto him naturally as his head starts swaying until his head is leaning against your shoulder, close enough to hear each other breathing. “Y/N, why did you never say we’d end up together like this, too? You were so damn good with this law of attraction bullshit. You could’ve manifested our wedding, too.”

Donghyuck is drunk, and drunk Donghyuck is always vulnerable. His tone of voice is enough for you to decide to cut this trip shorter than it already is. A week, you had promised Jeno and Jaemin, you’d leave two days after the wedding. But at this moment, when you’re frozen in place, Donghyuck’s warmth touching your coldness, you begin to ponder if it had been a good idea to come back in Seoul at all.

You love Jeno and Jaemin and would do anything for them in a heartbeat. Therefore, when the couple announced their engagement two months ago, it had been a quick, solid yes, of course, I’ll be there because you wouldn’t miss their wedding for the world, even if it had been exactly four years and two months since the last time you’d breathed the air of Seoul and that you’d rather die than be in a 12-hour flight, you swore you’d be with your friends during such a huge chapter of their lives.

Your schedules were immediately reconstructed, a ticket to Seoul safely tucked in the files in your desk’s drawer, and all your friends from London were already asking you to bring something back from Seoul when your trip is over. It was all set, with the promise of checking in with your teammates from work during your one-week leave, and it was the easiest itinerary you’d ever made. What you failed to prepare, truly, is yourself.

Somehow, you knew this would happen. You knew coming back would mean seeing Donghyuck. And seeing Donghyuck means opening wounds you’re not certain have healed and resuming conversations you’d never wanted to go back to. And this means, at any given time Donghyuck is within your space, you’d be a goner.

Because four years, it turns out, isn’t enough to get over him.

Quite funny, if you think about it now, how after all these years, you’re still orbiting around him.

You clear your throat, no words coming out, and Donghyuck starts to fall asleep against your shoulder.

Your right shoulder feels sore after falling asleep on your side on Chenle’s couch the morning after Jaemin and Jeno’s bachelor party. It was crazy, to say the least, and you’d decided to drink your guts to in hopes of not remembering anything in the morning. It sucks because you’re stupidly hungover and you remember everything.

The group was divided into two. You, Renjun, Donghyuck, and Minjeong were in charge of Jaemin in the other side of the city, courtesy of Jung Jaehyun for sponsoring and personally planning the grand party for his favorite dongsaeng. Meanwhile, Jisung, Chenle, Mark, and Jimin had planned Jeno’s very own party, along with Lee Taeyong who funded the event.

If you’re being completely honest, you’d think that after college, your friends would lose their sparks in setting up amazing parties, but last night proved you wrong.

The alcohol was disgusting, but you like that it made Renjun do things he wouldn’t do sober. Jaemin refused to get shit-faced drunk because his wedding is in two days, his hangovers usually last an entire day—he doesn’t want to show up at his own wedding looking like a zombie. Minjeong, well, she’s Minjeong, so she was just all over the place, nagging and getting drunk. She’s also a snob who thinks so highly of herself despite being the youngest in the group and liked to look down on her older friends all while attempting to stand upright after downing five shots of tequila.

Donghyuck, however, decided to bring his new girlfriend. Her name is Lia. And the only goal last night was to stay as far away as possible.

You knew that the relationship was new because Jisung filled you in before you had all parted ways for the parties, said that Donghyuck started dating her two months ago right around the time Jaemin and Jeno got engaged, Jimin being their bridge because Lia and Jimin have been friends since last year. Apparently, Lia’s been interested with him for years now; she just never had the chance because like you, Donghyuck also disappeared in and out from Seoul for a couple of years until he’d decided to stay here for good two years ago.

You can’t remember how many shots you had and how many cocktails were handed to you last night, but you wish you had more because it was evidently not enough to erase the scenarios from last night. It wasn’t enough to blur out the memories of Donghyuck holding her, kissing her, dancing with her, and just all out being a lovey-dovey boyfriend.

It’s a relief that you got home safely. There was no designated driver because the plan was to really get drunk, so Jaehyun had one of his employees drive everyone to Chenle’s penthouse because it’s the closest. You hope the others returned to Jeno’s place safely, too.

You stay still from where you’re lying down, eyes up on the ceiling, wondering what time it is. There was no plan for today aside from wedding rehearsal at six in the evening to make sure everything’s all set for tomorrow, so you reckon you have the entire day to get rid of your hangover.

You roll over to your side, facing the television, and the clock tells you it’s eleven in the morning. Renjun is snoring away from the other couch, and you remember letting Minjeong sleep on your bed for the night. You’re staring at Renjun’s sleeping form when someone on the carpeted floor suddenly rolls over, allowing you to see their face.

Donghyuck’s sleeping on the floor beside the couch, body parallel to yours so you can see his peaceful sleeping face, mouth slightly agape. He’s now sleeping on his back, head supported by one of the cushions, body covered with his jacket from last night. You remember parting ways with him with him last night. He’d taken a taxi with Lia back to her place while the rest of you went home in Jaehyun’s SUV. You don’t remember him coming back here.

You stare at him for as long as you can, because in the last three days in Seoul, you’d never really gotten the chance to get a good look on him. You and him don’t follow each other from any social media, so the last four years had truly been radio silence from both sides. Donghyuck, at 27, doesn’t look like he’s aged that much, albeit his round cheeks being gone, replaced by prominent cheekbones. It looks like he never bothered to get rid of the constellations forming on his face and neck, too, because they’re still here, just like many things that haven’t changed. Donghyuck used to love dyeing his hair crazy colors, now his hair is just colored naturally. His lips, wonder if they still taste the same.

“He’s going to melt,” Renjun says suddenly, you plop your head back to the couch, guilty for staring too long. Renjun sits up, stretching and laughing at your misery. “And you’re going to have a heart attack if you keep sneaking glances and getting caught. How many times has Jisung caught you in the last 72 hours?”

“Shut up,” you mumble, getting up and stretching as well. “What do you want to eat for breakfast?”

You carefully get off from the couch, making sure you don’t topple on Donghyuck’s sleeping body, draping the blanket over his body, walking towards Chenle’s fancy kitchen. Renjun helps you, rummaging through the fridge, and comes up with a breakfast menu with whatever you had in the kitchen.

Donghyuck wakes up before you and Renjun could finish cooking everything. He’s quiet when he approaches you in the kitchen, softly asking if you could make coffee for him. You don’t say no, of course.

“This is the most disgusting cup of coffee, I’ve had my entire life,” Donghyuck complains, leaning over the counter where you’re working on the opposite side of. “Stop jeopardizing the café’s reputation. You’re not some scientist so stop mixing concoctions from hell just to brag that you’re a part-time barista and a full-time college student. You make me sick. Literally.”

You ignore all of it, of course, eyebrows furrowed as you take another sip of the quote and quote disgusting coffee, trying to figure out what went wrong this time.

“I think it needs a bit more vanilla,” you think out loud.

“I will not join you in this stupid crusade of making your own “Barista’s Special” recipe,” he continues. “And I will tell your manager you’re wasting coffee!”

“Aha!” you exclaim when you think you got it right. “Maybe I need to level the grounds better and add another pump of vanilla. Let me try that. It should taste better.”

Donghyuck chuckles as you move around and attempt to make another cup. “You’ve been saying it should taste better since last week.”

He keeps complaining, but takes the new cup of coffee as soon as you’re done.

Donghyuck drinks.

You wait.

It still tastes disgusting.

“It’s sweet,” Donghyuck comments when he drinks it. You tilt your head. Renjun is finishing up on the scrambled eggs. You hear Minjeong come out of your room.

“Is that a bad thing?” you ask, hopeful.

Donghyuck shakes his head, chuckling. “Better than the ones you made when we were in university.”

“Hey!” you laugh. “I was awarded employee of the month once!”

“That doesn’t erase the fact that you forced me to drink your disgusting concoctions for three weeks straight,” he states, making you laugh even more. “I guess, all these years you’d learned what you were missing.”

“I’ll miss you,” you mumble against Donghyuck’s chest. “The internship will just be for a few months. I’ll be back before you know it.”

Donghyuck kisses the top of your head. “When you come back,” he mutters. “When you come back, I’ll ask you to be my girlfriend.”

You freeze.

“And you’ll say yes. And we’ll graduate together and make a life for both of us.”

You pull away a little so that you’re looking at him face to face. Donghyuck has tears threatening to fall from his eyes. You wipe it off with the sleeves of his jacket you’re wearing.

“I’ll say yes,” you promise. “And we’ll graduate together and make a life for both of us.”

A woman’s voice announces your flight number once again and says the gates are closing in five minutes. Donghyuck kisses you in the mouth—a promise—and tells you he loves you.

“Oh, Donghyuck,” you say. “I love you, too.”

“Come back home to me, yeah?”

“I will.”

Yours and Donghyuck’s favorite restaurant was located two blocks away from his parents’ home. It closed a few years ago when its owner passed away and his children were too heartbroken to keep the business running. It was a staple from your entire high school life, and if you could say it, it defined your standards when it comes to food.

You’d just gotten a call from home that your childhood pet had to be put down because of old age and many diseases, and you called in sick for work—thank God, Johnny was willing to cover for you otherwise the manager would’ve rejected your request to stay at home for the day—and you’re truly not in the mood for anything at all.

You haven’t been home for quite sometime now, the last time being the holidays and you normally just spend a couple of days before heading back to the campus, so everything really sucks. You didn’t even get the chance to say goodbye.

Donghyuck hears this from Jimin, of course, because your roommate called him as soon as she heard you crying from your room. He literally carries you out of your room, says grieving is better when there’s food.

As soon as you see the person standing behind the counter, you recognize the place right away. Although located in a different street now, nearby where you are, the place looks exactly the same from when it did years ago.

“Y/N! Donghyuckie!” the lady behind the counter greets.

“Oh my,” you squeal. “Auntie, I didn’t know you’re back in business! How long has it been?”

The new owner, the late owner’s eldest daughter, smiles at you and tells you they re-opened sometime this year. She tells you to find a seat and confirms she knew your order by heart.

Donghyuck sits across you. “You like it?”

“Why did you not take me here sooner?”

He smiles. “Supposedly on your birthday a couple of weeks from now. But with what happened today, I guess this is the best time.”

“You’re the best.”

It’s Jisung and Chenle who find you and Donghyuck by the pool area hours later. Donghyuck had completely fallen asleep on your shoulder. The younger ones help you and practically carry Donghyuck towards the car.

Jaemin and Jeno have left the venue so they could prepare for their flight the next day. You hadn’t paid much attention to the time when Donghyuck drunkenly approached you. Jisung tells you it’s already two in the morning.

Chenle tells you Donghyuck had broken up with Lia—the reason, he’s uncertain—which is why she stormed off from the reception and Donghyuck decided to drink his ass off while you were wandering around the place. You shrug, acknowledging the news like it doesn’t make your heart race, like it doesn’t give you some sort of hope you didn’t know you had stored, and tell them they should take him home.

Jisung says Donghyuck lives on the other side of the city, so it’s best you all head back to Chenle’s.

Jisung and Chenle share the latter’s bed, and you’re not going to let Donghyuck sleep on the couch after he had complained about his back hurting when he’d fallen asleep on the floor the other day, so it’s only right that you let Jisung and Chenle carry him to your bed.

When you wake up on the couch the next day, Donghyuck’s shoes are no longer by the doorsteps.

His footsteps are loud.

“Donghyuck, this isn’t going to work if you don’t fucking give me a chance to explain!” You scream a few feet behind Donghyuck. 

Donghyuck is running away, and you’re beginning to think that convincing him to go to the gym might not have been the greatest decision because Donghyuck is literally sprinting, like he’s being chased by something so terrifying.

You almost stop. Donghyuck, who always called him home, never ran away from you all these years. Not, it looks like he’d rather be anywhere but where you. Nothing feels worse than that. 

You’d just gotten back from your internship in the US, one more term and you’re graduating. The internship was easily the best thing that’s happened to you this year. They were already thinking of offering you a contract as soon as you graduate. They let you go back home, of course, to complete your degree, and said they’d be willing to keep training you in the states and have you relocate to Europe once you graduate because they’ll be expanding their business out there.

It's also the night of Donghyuck's first showcase, the first show he's headlining along with musicians and artists from different universities. You had promised Donghyuck you’d watch and support him, but things doesn't always go on your favor, because as soon as you’d landed, you were needed back to the campus for an interview for the university’s publishing team because they wanted you to talk about your experience alongside the others who went to the states to complete their internship. It was supposed to be an hour session, but you and everyone in the panel liked the questions they were asking, and somehow you felt like this was a sign that the company in the US could lead to better, brighter things for you.

Hence, you were late. Halfway through the show. Donghyuck got mad, but promised he understood. He asked for some space, at least for the rest of the night. But you wanted to apologize properly, to take him out for dinner even if it's already past midnight, and insisted that you should talk about it. Donghyuck refused, you kept insisting, until the former said something about you being a shitty girlfriend.

It’s a shitty excuse, but you were absolutely fucking tired. You’re still jetlagged from the 16-hour difference, and the entire session with your fellow interns took two hours of your day.

What you had left for the day was so little, and you chose to spend it with Donghyuck, but he decided to be an ass about it.

"I never said anything about being your girlfriend," was your dumb reply, which is why you’re now running after him from the building of Chenle’s condominium.

You pull Donghyuck with force as soon as you catch up with him, and you’re faced with your worst fear.

Donghyuck is crying. He’s never cried before, not because of you. A deep painful breath comes out of your mouth, and it hurts when you breathe, like inhaling a cloud of smoke or being hit by a ball in the back. Donghyuck keeps crying, doesn’t even hide it. He sobs and heaves and he doesn’t wipe his tears.

"Donghyuck, can you just—”

“I’m tired,” Donghyuck sobs. “Y/N, I’m so tired. I sound pathetic and I’m not sure if I’m exhausted from the performance or I’m just done with you.”

“I’m sorry,” is all what you could come up with. 

“This,” Donghyuck says, gesturing the small space between you. “I don’t think it’s worth all of the pain I am feeling right now, Y/N. You’re my best friend. I—I, fuck, I used to think that maybe someday this will all be worth it, but I am tired of waiting for that day. I am drained and you have consumed all of me. I waited for you, and I keep waiting until you finally just—let go and decide you want to be with me and stop playing this never-ending game of friends with benefits bullshit we started. I’m done. What else do you want from me?”

“I—I… Donghyuck,” you stutter. I want you to give me a chance. I want you to give me more time to figure some things out myself. I want you to wait a little longer.

"I rejected Ryujin a week before you came home,” Donghyuck confesses. "When you were in the states, and you suddenly changed your mind about being my girlfriend and told me I should go out and date other people and that I shouldn’t hold myself back, I was angry. I didn’t understand why you were pushing me away so much when I’m here!”

You stay still, crying.

“I’m here,” he repeats. “I’m here and I love you, and I’ve never asked anything in return. And you tell me you love me, but you do things that—that hurt me. Every time I think we’re finally going somewhere, you—you push back and I’m just—I’m sick of it. And Jaemin said I should just move on if you can’t make up your mind because I don’t know if you haven’t realized it but Y/N, we’ve been at it for years.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Jeno and Jaemin set me up with Ryujin,” he continues. “We went to a couple of dates. And then you called me saying you’re coming back home. So, I broke it off before we even got started. I told her it would be unfair if I kept leading her on when I know that I am still ridiculously in love with you. She said it would be alright and that she's giving me all the time and space I need to think about things."

Donghyuck curses and continues, "But I didn't need time and space, Y/N. Because I already knew that all I've ever wanted was you. I didn't need to think. I only needed you."

You don’t know what to say. You’re still holding him by his arm.

“If you're not going to say anything, let me go,” Donghyuck sternly says. You have a feeling it’s not the grip on his arm that Donghyuck is talking about. “Please.”

The single biggest mistake of your life happened on the third street from Chenle’s place, under the broken streetlight, across the ice cream parlor Donghyuck used to work at when he was seventeen. 

You let him go. Donghyuck stops waiting.

The wait from the audience was long enough.

They say your graduation day is going to be one of the happiest moments in your life. It’s not. Not at all.

Not when you’d gotten your diploma on stage and Donghyuck shows you he doesn’t give a fuck by looking everywhere else. Not when it’s picture taking time with your friends and families and he decides to stand on the other side, far, far away from you. Not when his parents ask him to take a picture with you and he shrugs it off and says he’s hungry and that he’s meeting everyone at the restaurant, leaving with his entire family.

Renjun whispers, “Does he even know you’re leaving first thing in the morning?”

You shrug it off, too. “Looks like he has other things to care about.”

Jaemin sighs. “You’re not serious about this, are you? You and Donghyuck better pull your shit together. Both of you already ruined the moment for everyone.”

Renjun eyes him. “It’s not your fault, Y/N. If Donghyuck doesn’t want to listen, then so be it.”

“It’s not Donghyuck’s fault either,” Jaemin defends. “Because he’s been trying to get answers and you wouldn’t give it to him. So, I don’t think it’s his fault that he’s done.”

“We’re not picking sides here, Jaemin,” Jeno says. “Let’s go.”

Jeno and Jaemin sandwiches you in a tight hug.

The next day after the wedding, in the afternoon, the newlyweds are bound to France for their honeymoon. They’re traveling the continent for two weeks (unfortunately, London excluded from their itinerary), and all of you decided to drop them off as if they’re leaving for years. In your case, this may be the last time you’re seeing them for a long time.

“I love you,” Jaemin says as the two very strong and buff men hug you. “I know things have been tough and coming back here took a lot from you, but thank you for making sure you were present during the wedding.”

“I hope this isn’t the last time in another four years that we’d see you in person,” Jeno adds. “We miss you, you know? Please come visit us when you have time.”

“I love you two so much,” you cry, emotional with the way they’re holding you. “Go have fun.”

They bid their goodbyes to everyone else and enter the airport.

“If I don’t get the same treatment when I leave, I’m ghosting everyone,” Mark announces. Jisung laughs. “What? You all acted like they’re going away for two years. They’re coming back in literally and exactly two weeks!”

“Go be unhappy somewhere, hyung,” Donghyuck teases, making everyone laugh as you all walk back to where their cars are parked.

Chenle needs to go back to work, so did Jimin and Jisung, hence they ride all together. Minjeong’s visiting a friend, so she’s riding with Mark and Renjun because they’re all going to the same side of the city. Which means, Donghyuck is driving you back to Chenle’s place.

“Your flight is tomorrow, too, right?” Mark asks. You hum, nodding. “Come visit me in Vancouver sometime soon, too. Or I’ll fly to London.”

“Wow, you have a lot of money to spend on flying around the world multiple times, huh?” you tease.

“Hey, you’re the frequent flyer here,” he comments. “Wonder how many miles you’ve earned and redeemed from all this flying you’ve done in this lifetime.”

You laugh. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Mark.”

Renjun and the others bid you goodbye. You’re not really certain why you and Donghyuck silently agreed to watch your friends leave, you and him standing a foot away from each other as they all drive away. For some reason, it feels like the last time.

The first time it happened, you and Donghyuck decide it’s an accident.

You were drunk, and it had been a while for the two of you considering how busy you both have been because of finals coming up. It was convenient, if you say so yourself, to have your best friend right beside you when you were feeling hot and horny. The morning after was settled with a kiss on your forehead—no apologies as discussed, because neither you nor him regretted it anyway, but there’s a promise that nothing changes.

The second time it happened, you and Donghyuck decide it’s not going to be a one-time thing.

“So, to make it clear,” you huff as you quickly get rid of your pants while Donghyuck pulls his shirt off. “This isn’t a one-time thing.”

“I don’t see an issue if it’s not,” he replies, unbuckling his belt and pulling his pants down, pushing you against the wall and kissing you down your neck. “Besides, we’re best friends.”

You lean your head against the wall, thinking if it’s too late to back out, but Donghyuck’s already has his hands all over you—one on your breast and the other on your waist. It’s not really that bad of an idea. Donghyuck is your best friend, and your friendship has withstood time, distance, growing pains, and mostly everything. And perhaps it’s the way you haven’t stopped thinking about your first time together that’s making you feel so, so vulnerable under his touch, but it’s not like anything’s changed since that night. In fact, if you’re being completely honest, it made you feel like you and Donghyuck know each other better now—in ways that other pairs like you don’t.

Hence, whatever thought you had a minute ago, you throw it down the drain and you let Donghyuck (messily, heartedly giggling) carry you by hoisting you up and wrapping your legs around his waist and bring you back to his unmade bed.

Donghyuck knows how to use his tongue, and you’ve kind of always known because all the girls he’s ever slept with talk about him like he’s a god of tongue or something. Donghyuck licks your lips before diving in, as if he’s giving you a taste of what you’re about to have, and he pushes his tongue in, massaging it with yours, and it almost feels like he’s teaching you how to use the muscle in your mouth. You realize how much he likes kissing, because he kisses more than he touches. He kisses you for what felt like hours, and you’re not about to complain about it.

You let him gently drop you on his bed. His warm palms caressing its way from your waist down to the side of your thighs where he knows you like being touched the most (and you’re not certain whether he’d learned this from stories or from the time you and him had sex); Donghyuck keeps his mouth on you as he rubs circles against your hot skin.

The finger he slips between your underwear and right above your clit sends you shivers down your spine. He allows you to catch your breath for a second, moving his mouth from your lips down to your neck, but doesn’t give you enough time to recover because he rubs your clit oh, so gently.

“We’re best friends,” he repeats, murmuring the words against the skin on your neck. “Nothing changes, except now I know where to touch you.”

He does. He touches you everywhere and slips his middle finger in your hole, sighing against your skin when he feels how wet you’ve gotten simply from kissing.

“You’ve always been such a good girl for me,” he whispers, keeping his finger inside, his palm pressed against your clit. “Such a good girl. Wet and ready for me. You really are my best friend.”

“Donghyuck,” you whine. He starts rubbing from inside, moving a single finger in an upward motion, eliciting a moan from you.

“What?” he asks innocently. “You are. You are my best friend. I don’t think everyone can say they let their best friends fuck them when they’re horny. Which makes me the best best friend, too. Because I fuck the brains out of you when you’re horny. Aren’t we the best team the world has ever seen?”

Donghyuck slips another finger in—easily, because nothing can describe how we you are now. He tongues the skin on your collarbone, licking and tasting and smirking all throughout, then he fingers you properly. At this point, your underwear’s stretched from one thigh to the other.

Donghyuck likes to tease you, and you know this because he massages the inside of your hole in a swift upward motion before pulling his fingers out and slowly filling you again. He does this slowly, then fast, then slowly once again. The explicit sound of your wetness makes him chuckle, leaving your collarbones and using his other hand to pull the left cup of your bra down and goes in. He bites and nips and licks and sucks your breast while he fingers you stupid—legs apart, shamelessly wet and fucking ready for him—and you take everything he gives you.

He doesn’t make you cum though, because Donghyuck is Donghyuck. Nobody is more cunning than him.

But he doesn’t make you wait. As soon as he feels you’re about to cum, he slips his fingers out and rids himself off his own underwear, then slipping the last two pieces barely hanging on your body.

He fucks you dumb. Raw. All his glory and skin. You have no other words aside from that.

He doesn’t wait because there’s truly no need to adjust with how wet and ready you fucking are. He’s big, but Donghyuck knows how to fuck well. He knows how to prevent discomfort and he’s done a very good job at proving that to you.

He fucks you missionary, and usually, this isn’t something you’d opt for. You like being fucked hard with no sense of affection and all that bullshit when you’re stressed and in need of some kind of relief. But with Donghyuck, it’s heavenly despite how sinful his hips snap.

He fucks you. Again and again. He makes you cum twice before he pulls out and spills himself on your stomach.

He kisses you, giggles at the way you’re dumbfounded, cleans you up, and lets you sleep on his bed as though nothing has changed.

Because nothing did. Nothing ever will.

“Funny how things have changed so much in the last four years, huh?” Donghyuck asks, eyes on the road.

Donghyuck’s said he’s driving you home. You haven’t been in Seoul in four years, but the route he’s taking is definitely not the way to Chenle’s.

“We’re taking the long way home,” he interjects when he realizes you’re looking at the GPS on his car’s tablet. “There’s, uh, heavy traffic on the usual way because of some road construction. And you’re going back tomorrow. You haven’t really gone around the city, so I figured it’d be a good time.”

You hum, looking at him with a small smile.

“Sure,” you buy. “It feels like only yesterday you were driving a beat-up Hyundai. Now, you’re all fancy.”

He chuckles, turning as his car speeds through the bridge. “Well, many things have changed since you left.”

Donghyuck looks beautiful like this: Seoul’s horizon running like a movie as he drives, smile soft, eyes bright.

“I’m sorry,” you brave up.

It takes you great courage to say it out loud. As best friends, you and Donghyuck had always said “thank you,” and “I love you” openly, and in countless of occasions, these words have healed scratches made around your friendship. Rarely you and him would ever say you’re sorry. The only time you can remember apologizing to him was the night, a few weeks before graduation when you’d just returned from the States after your internship. That sorry barely made up the wounds you’d caused.

At this age, you understand why saying sorry wasn’t normal for you and Donghyuck. You and him were inseparable. You were soulmates—are if you can bravely say it out loud. Your bond is stronger with him than anyone else, and you’d always believed that nothing could ever come between you and him. Like the decisions you’d made, nothing changed until something did. And when things changed, you and him had no idea what to do. Because as far as you can remember, you and Donghyuck remained constant, like a routine, a bible with a comprehensive and cohesive series of stories that’s never changed. So, when feelings got in between—denial and pining and confusion—neither of you had any idea how to handle it.

Donghyuck was bold and brave. You, on the other hand, had no ounce of courage to give it a try.

He only smiles. “A few years too late, don’t you think?”

You nod. “I know. Do you accept my apology?”

“If you buy me ice cream,” he answers.

“Done,” you say, smiling back at him. “I was scared.”

Donghyuck keeps his eyes on the road. “Of?”

“That I’d come back to Seoul and see you married with kids and all.”

“And what’s so scary about that?”

“Because it would mean I’d thrown away all the chances the universe has given me.”

Donghyuck looks ethereal like this: in a suit, smiling as he watches his bride walk down the aisle.

“Take care, yeah?” Renjun whispers as he hugs you.

Mark’s Dad and Mark himself are waiting for you outside. As most of your friends have gone home to their families after graduation, with the exception of Renjun and Jisung who spared some time today just to see you off, Mark volunteered (his dad) to drop you off the airport.

“I will,” you say, burying your face into his chest. “Any word from Donghyuck?”

Renjun pulls away and looks down. You know the answer.

“It’s okay,” you answer, mostly to yourself. “He’ll call me back soon. I’m sure.”

“I hope so,” Renjun mumbles.

The only call you get before you enter the gates is a drunken one. It’s Donghyuck.

“I hate you,” he grits through the device. “And I never want to see you again.”

“I didn’t want to come back,” you confess. Donghyuck keeps his hands on the steering wheel. “Because you’d said you never wanted to see me again.”

“And I sent you messages you never received,” Donghyuck says. It surprises you. “Because your Korean number was no longer active and you’d blocked me from everything at that time.”

You smile, wondering if you had a little bit more understanding—if you had waited a little before deactivating your old number, if you had given it some time—would you and Donghyuck end up together in the end? If Donghyuck hadn’t been drunk the night you left Seoul—if he’d taken a taxi before you boarded the plane, if he’d just said sorry back—would you and him have gotten into a relationship right away?

Regret, just like grief, makes you feel things like this. They make you wonder what could have happened, if it would’ve given you the same, awful outcome, or if it would take you to the happy ending you keep dreaming about.

“Funny how we had many things we couldn’t say despite us being best friends,” he comments. “And you agree that many things have changed in the last four years, right?”

You hum, looking out your window, watching the horizon blur in motion.

“Donghyuck-ah,” you whisper, eyes still on the moving horizon. “The only thing that hasn’t changed for me.”

“What?” he asks.

“You,” you say. “You’re the only one that hasn’t changed for me. You’re still sharp when you need to be, but gentle where people you love need you to be. You’re still beautiful like the day I had realized I loved you. It wasn’t shocking, though. That day. I wasn’t all too shocked that your newly-dyed pink hair was the eureka moment for me. Because I knew all along. It was more like a flick on the wrist rather than a surprise. Like it’s always been there. The pink hair was just a reminder.”

Donghyuck stays quiet.

“And I say this like I’m hoping I could go back to four years ago and try harder to apologize,” you continue, tears already brimming your eyes. “But I guess we needed this, Donghyuck. We needed to grow—sadly—apart. And I feel like, no, I know that I wouldn’t have gotten to know myself better if we didn’t grow apart.”

“Yeah,” he speaks for what seems like a long time. “We were—you were right all along. We couldn’t just risk it all for a relationship. I had offers left and right even before we’d graduated, and you.”

You look at him. Donghyuck’s eyes are carefully still on the road, but his gaze is soft, eyes shining from the tears welling up.

“You were made to see the world,” he says, and it breaks you like glass. “I wouldn’t have forgiven myself if I were the reason why you don’t have the life you have now. Because it wouldn’t have worked. I love you, and I just know that at that time, when we were young and all, I wouldn’t have let you go work abroad. The few months you spent in the state for a mere internship already shook our friendship in ways we didn’t expect. What more if we had been in a relationship?”

“Donghyuck,” you sniffle. “I love you. And it hurt. And I’m sorry it us this long. I’m sorry it took me this long.”

“Stop apologizing. Y/N, I would’ve let you go eventually,” he confesses. “Because I love you so much that I’d be willing to let you go if it meant you could soar.”

The sun sets in the horizon the next time you look out your window.

Donghyuck keeps one hand on the wheel and shows you the other, palm up.

You take it with courage.

And you. You look beautiful like this: dressed in white, smiling as you walk towards your groom. You best friend. Donghyuck.

[straaawberrry]

A little snippet of what I have been writing lately

Barty knows he fucked up. He is reminded of that fact every single day when he wakes up and the other side of the bed is cold. But today maybe more than any other day the absence of Evan stings, hurts in a way that makes the ache in his heart almost unbearable. Alone in the dark of his bedroom, Barty grabs his phone sitting on the nightstand. He vaguely remembers sending messages to Evan last night but he can’t for the life of him remember what it was about.

2:37

I miss you

Answer me I need to talk to you

I’m sorry

3:21

Pls Rosie baby we needto talk

When will I see u agin ?? I miss u

3:49

Are u wit him again,?

Pls callme back I promiseIt wont happen again

4:13

Youre a whor e

Shoudve have knwn

Fuckign hate u

Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck. As if insulting Evan will lead him anywhere. He hesitates before pressing the sending button, wondering if it’s the best course of action but when he thinks of it he really has nothing left to lose anyway.

13:23

Sorry for insulting you, didn’t mean to. I was drunk.

Barty lets his phone fall onto his stomach before resting comfortably his head against his pillow in hope for a few more minutes of sleep. As he’s once again drifting off to sleep, he feels his stomach vibrating, or rather his phone.

Rosie

13:31

Yeah I figured as much.

Barty stares at the five little words Evan has sent him, it’s more than what he’s been lucky to have in weeks. Barty remembers all those nights he and Evan spent together talking about anything and everything, at the time they could barely imagine their lives without one another and now they’re barely talking to each other.

Barty still struggles to understand how something so trivial had escalated so quickly that their whole relationship has shattered.

English is not my first language so please be kind :)

[slimeylee]

📻 🌹|| she's bound to pass the test , as princess of hell ! like her daddy , she is madly power-fell ! ♪ /lyr

♡ switch ! alastor ( he / it ) switch ! rosie ( she / it )

[ this is a SFW tickle fic . NSFW DNI / DNF ]

-- warnings >> mouth tickles

..... 861 words , 5,637 characters

I'm a Cannibal , It's What I do

Alastor and Rosie sat besides each other , sipping tea and laughing . Rosie had been talking about a situation that she ran into earlier that day . " You should've seen her face , Alastor . I mean , it was hilarious ! " Rosie took a sip of its tea .

" Ohh , you and your humour ! " Alastor elbowed Rosie playfully in the ribs , earning a small squeak . Alastor glared at her , his smile growing wide . She could tell it was a genuine , mischievous smirk and that he was up to no good . " Alastor , don't you dare . I see that look in your eyes ! " Rosie exclaimed, backing away .

" Ohohoho , but I do believe I must examine why you made such a sound , my dear ! You're not hurt , are you ? Pehaps I should check ... " Alastor crawled toward Rosie , a nervous smirk on her face as she scooted away . " Now now , Alastor , there's really no need . I'm fINE !- " Rosie yelped as Alastor tackled her down . It sat on her waist , smirking evilly down at her .

" Now , Rosie , don't worry ! I'll be very careful , " Alastor teased , knowing that Rosie reacted a lot more to gentle tickles over rough tickles . It began counting Rosie's ribs , gently sliding along them . " One ... " Rosie immediately started giggling softly , swatting at Alastor's hands . " Two ... three .. Rosiee ~ I can't make sure you have all your ribs while you're smacking my hands , dear ! Oh , now where was I ? " Alastor teased , ' forgetting ' what number he was at .

" Alahastor , don't play redihiculous , yohou were at three - " Rosie's laughed softly , it's cheeks turned pink . " Oh , but how could I be so sure ? I think it's only safe for me to restart ... don't want to miss any now ! Let's see ... one .. two .. " Alastor's fingers trailed down Rosie's ribs . " YoHOhou're soho mean , Ahahalastor ! " Rosie squawked at the sensations , chuckling brightly . " Your laughter is music to my ears , darling ! Three ... four .. five , " Alastor continued , placing teases in between his counting .

After Alastor finished counting one side , he scribbled in between Rosie's bottom ribs . Rosie squealed , laughing as she gently bucked her hips . Alastor then began counting Rosie's other set of ribs . It couldn't help but gently squirm beneath Alastor , giggling and sucking in it's stomach . " You're doing so good , Rosie ... almost doone ! 17 , 18 , 19 .. " Alastor's finger continued to trail down Rosie's ribs . " 22 ... 23 ... and 24 . Wonderful ! You still have all of your ribs , sweetheart . But I do need to make sure they aren't broken . " Alastor said , bringing his head down .

" Oh , Alastor , don't you dare ! NononoNOHOHO ! " Rosie cackled out , throwing its head back . Alastor had begun nibbling Rosie's ribs . " Does this hurt , dear ? " Alastor asked , his smile growing wider . " NOHAHA! Ahahal! Ihit dohoesn't huhurt ! Ihi'm fine ! " Rosie bucked her hips , squirming . " How marvelous , dear . But oh , I am rather hungry at the moment ... " Alastor grinned , leaning down and nibbling all along Rosie's ribs .

" AHAHAlastor ! Noho nihihihibbling ! Ahahaha ! " Rosie whined , squirming desperately beneath Alastor . " I'm a cannibal , dear , it's what I do ! " Alastor exclaimed . Through her laughter , Rosie scoffed . " Wehehehell , you wanna know somethihin' ahabout me ? I'm a cahahannibal too ! " It immediately started to fight back .

The two laughed as their playful fighting went , before Rosie got the high ground after a bit of struggling . " You're not going to get away with that without a bit of revenge ! " Rosie smirked , before she leaned down and immediately nibbled Alastor's ribs . The deer threw his head back with a cackle . " AHAHA ! Rohohosie , nahaha ! " He chuckled , arching its back gently as Rosie nibbled over each of its ribs .

" What's the matter , sweetheart ? Can't take what'cha dish out ? " Rosie smirked , scribbling her nails in between Alastor's ribs as he laughed freely . " Nohohoho ! Rohohosie , plehease ! " Alastor pleaded , his grin wide on his face . Rosie shook her head . " Oh , Alastor , such a sensitive thing you are ! I just love ya laughter and your big grin . " Rosie complimented , a big smile on her own face as Alastor's cheeks began to tint a gentle pink .

Rosie leaned her head back down and nibbled Alastor's ribs . It let out a deep squeal , squirming beneath Rosie as it cackled . " Ahaha ! Rohohosie ! " He snorted . " Hey , I'm a cannibal , it's what I do ! " Rosie repeated Alastor's words , smirking as she unbuttoned his coat . Alastor glared down , its eyes widened . " I know what you're doing !- Rosie , no ! I don't - AHAHAHA ! " Alastor cackled , throwing his head back . Rosie had lifted up Alastor's dress shirt underneath his coat , blowing a raspberry directly over his ribs . " ROHOHOsie ! I gihive ! Stohohop PLEHehease , dear ! " Alastor giggled , squirming beneath Rosie .

It lifted its head from his ribs , smirking . She crawled off of him , letting him catch his breath . " That was rather fun . I enjoy spending time with ya , Alastor . " Rosie smiled , sitting to the side of it . Alastor sat up , " Ah , me too , dear . I truly wish we'd see each other more often . " He smiled softly , looking over at Rosie .

" Well , if ya ever pass through this place again , we must catch up on some more chatting . And rib eating ! " The two cannibals laughed , before standing up .

" I'll see ya later , Al . Thanks for stopping by ! " Rosie exclaimed , kissing Alastor on both cheeks . She gave him a hug , before walking him out the door .

[kimjiwoong]

HAPPY INTERNATIONAL ROSIE DAY!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Know that I'm always rooting for u ilu

davidddddd mwah I'm always rooting for u too. thank u sooo much 🫂🫂

[pursuitseternal]

“Collaring:” nothing but a sweaty smut update for “Our Blood is Thicker:”

(Ascended) Astarion x Cordehlia | E | 2.8K

📷 by @mouldering-casket 🎨 by @marimosalad, co-creator, 📖 by @nyx-knox

Summary: No ordinary bauble or toy this time, Astarion and Cordehlia bring out that old collar from their adventuring days… but it takes a little more than that to make the Ascendant her pet this time around.

CW: Orgasm denial/control, DommyMommy Cordehlia, collaring, Cock Ring for that whiney Ascendant, retaliation DomDaddy…

Previous Ch | ao3 link | Masterlist

Chapter 23: Collaring…

🗡️💞🗡️💞🗡️💞🗡️💞🗡️💞🗡️💞🗡️💞🗡️💞🗡️

It’s a high-pitched whine, hissed between fangs. “Please…” Astarion whimpers, sweat running down his brow to make his pale skin glisten in the roaring firelight.

Cordehlia only smirked, lips parted to show off her right fang as she leaned forward. Adorable… she thought, those wider red eyes that crinkled up at her with need and pain and pleasure. It only made her spread thighs clench harder as she rode on top of him. Everything was wet and sweaty and drenched, but that was to be expected. And it was deserved, calling her ‘pet’ one too many times, a little dare that Astarion just couldn’t pass up regarding his stamina, and now an hour of hard fucking in front of their grand fireplace…. Too many orgasms for her to even keep track of anymore.

While for him… she grinned as he languished still. That grin made him whine out another pitiful ‘please’, his hands clawed into the white fur rug beneath them. Her strong fingers hooked beneath the collar around his neck. “No,” she simply replied, and then stilled her hips to let his cock just sit inside her. “For someone who enjoys making me beg so… very… much, you are pathetic at it.”

He grunted as she yanked him a bit higher to let him go suddenly. “Please, my love,” he whined again louder, trying to swallow over his parched and cracked throat.

“Please… who?” She practically crowed from above him, the skin beneath their thighs so slick with sweat and her arousal. “After an hour of this, I would think the mighty Vampire Ascendant would have learned by now what to call me,” her voice was velvet and ice all at once. Sharp and tempting.

“My Lady Corvus,” he ground out, bucking his hips into her drenched folds as subtly as he could. “Please release me,” his humility dripped like honey, or like the sweat that gathered over every inch of his chest.

Cordehlia leered softly down at him. “Oh… and from what shall I release you? From this little thing?” She reached between them, gripping the base of his cock, finding the ring that wrapped snugly around his thick and throbbing shaft. “A little toy of a ring reduces you to a whiny little brat…”

“Excuse me?” his voice sounded pressed, irritated… until she pulled on that collar again.

“I’m sorry, I don’t listen to insolent pets,” she tutted her tongue, mimicking the way he had all too often teased her over the months they had been reunited. “Now… don’t be fussy, and I might just finally let you come,” her smirk widened wickedly, her hips canting slowly, her hand slipping through her own slick to tease her own clit, making his crimson eyes fix on the sight of their coupling. He licked his lips, eyes fluttering between open and shut, mouth working between clenching and panting. “You could help me, instead of me pampering you, little lordling. Put those amazing hands of yours to use,” she simpered down at him, her free hand reaching for his from the fur rug below them to claw around her swaying breast.

“You’ve grown rather demanding, you know… bound in blood to that powerful Vampire Lord of yours,” Astarion panted beneath her, playing his strong, smoothe fingers over that fullness and plucking at her rosy nipple. “So needy and selfish…” he hissed as she rode him harder, her hand working furiously at her clit the more he taunted her. “Someone might need to check you on your own indulging tendencies. That Lord you belong to seems a bad influence…”

“The worst of influences,” she nodded and groaned, looking down at him with heavy-lidded eyes. “But you’re mistaken, pet… he belongs to me…” she sighed at the wicked smirk that turned his open mouth.

“Cordehlia,” he growled her name, just a hint of warning in that tone, one he knew all too well would go unheeded.

She just tossed her fiery red hair over her shoulder, letting it glow and catch the light from the merry fire in the grate. “You know it’s only fair, given the number of times you’ve had me kneel for you… sometimes in public.”

He could swear he felt her wetness seep more at the memories, at the debauched thrill it was to flaunt their power and notoriety, when mostly appropriate. His Raven… his pet… his Right Hand. Cordehlia shivered as she savored what his right hand was doing now, that slow rolling, worshipful touch of her breast that didn’t fit his massive palm.

Breath whistled in her mouth, her head thrown back to make the perfect picture of indulgent pleasure for him to revel in. Her fingers were soaked in her cum yet again, her body hitching as she bucked out her release on his throbbing cock. And Astarion pulled her down to cover his damp body with her own, filling her panting, gaping mouth with his tongue. Kissing him, she felt his hand wind into her hair, subtly guiding her lower down his body. “If you don’t stop pushing me with that hand on my head, I swear I’ll bite it, Astarion,” she growled a bit mischievously.

And it only made him laugh, quietly and exhaustedly. “Now, now… which one of us is the feral, untamed pet, hmm?”

Lowering her mouth, the damp of her tongue licked up that groove of his abdomen, the salt of his skin filling her taste buds. His belly quivered under her mouth, making her smile as she felt him brace those taught muscles before she nipped. A sharp admonishment, he hissed her name in pain and pleasure. She sucked and licked as she drank from him slowly, languorously. Scarlet, bloody lips twisted in a sultry smile, she slid over his damp body to kiss him, to share that coppery taste of his powerful blood. Little rumbles of his own pleasure tickled her tongue as he lapped the rest of his essence from the nooks of her mouth. Laughing, she slid quickly before he could wrap his arms around her.

A sigh from her lungs, she settled herself at his groin.

The smallest tip of her tongue tickled just around that hot and blushing head of his cock. Another exasperated groan from above her, another grip of his hand in her hair. She laughed again, deep in her chest, that arrogant, teasing kind she knew her found enticing. Slowly, she sucked, and even more slowly, she eased that ring up off the base of his shaft.

“Good girl,” he groaned loudly, thumb caressing the edge of cheek and tapping on the little tip of her nose. He felt her lips part in a smile around his length, that ancient familiar shiver of pleasure coursing down his spine to the base of his cock. Centuries old, the worship of her mouth around him, it filled him with more pleasure than anything… almost anything. Only one thing was tighter and warmer and slicker. He grinned, reaching to ease that ring off more, even as she licked and drooled around it.

Those lean, elegant fingers of hers caught his reach, clasping it tightly. A silent command not to interfere. Astarion only laughed quietly, huskily to himself, bucking his hips deeper into those smirking, rosy lips.

Instantly, she slipped away from his cock, hand still gripping his, as she kissed her way lower. Bringing her mouth to suckle around one of his balls, she sighed dramatically. That loose, silky skin was sticky slick from all her riding, and eagerly she lapped around it. Soft little suckles reduced him back to deep throated whimpers, his hand struggling to break from her grip to touch himself.

One last swipe of her tongue up that tender crease between his balls, and she smiled at him, his body propped up on one elbow for a better view. “Say pretty please one more time, and I’ll let you free, my love.”

He gave a disgruntled, petulant snarl. “Pretty… pretty…” his voice shifted even more guttural as he leaned higher on his arm, “please,” he finally added as he gripped harshly into her hand.

“You sound positively feral and unkempt, my love,” Cordehlia chided with a musical laugh, lapping up the underside of his shaft again and twisting the ring in place. Granting him no relief. “Not to mention, you’re rather rude. Did you forget, little lordling, whom you are addressing?”

“Lady Corvus…” he growled that name deep in his chest, more seductive and ravenous than ever she had heard it spoken before. It made her shiver, and not with the thrill of bloodshed. It was the thrill of desire and dominance and the battle for an edge of power between them, that merry dance between playfulness and destruction. “Release me,” he ordered, that tantalizing tone of danger in his command before he softened it with another, “please…”

Cordehlia held her breath; she knew that shine in his eyes as he looked down his body at her— fierce, hungry, and most of all, unsatisfied. One last lick up his manhood, from the base of his tightening balls to the weeping slit of its head, and Cordehlia slipped that ring off more and more from his shaft. He growled in release, his length throbbing more under her touch with every little bit she slid it. Wrapping her mouth around that ring, she sucked it off at the very end. She made a show of it, pulling it free from her teeth to set on the fur rug beside them.

Astarion’s mouth hung slack, his grin turning with confidence and a surge of dominance as he reached for it. Holding the stretching ring, his glistening chest rose and fell with a loud and rasping breath. “Well, now that that is settled… fair is fair…” And then, he tossed that blasted ring to clink and roll across the floorboards somewhere in the distance.

Smoother than feline, more silent than breath, he swept his legs from under her, crawling on all fours. Cordehlia’s undead heart stopped, she swore. That glistening, predacious body coiled tight like a spring. With a laugh on her lips, Cordehlia scrabbled away, fingers dug into the white fur rug…

…only to have her ankle arrested in his vice-like grip and have her body yanked onto its back in the same place his sweat-streaked frame had been. “Tut… tut…” his fang-toothed smirk glinted in the flickering light, that collar around his neck jangling mutedly as he unclasped it with his other hand. “Such a naughty little brat…” his smirk widened as he licked the corner of his mouth. “You’ve had your fun, now let’s see… how you like some of your own treatment, darling.”

Caging her, he slank his body to cover her own supple, sweating frame. That hand around her ankle ghosted with featherlight touch up the side of her slick skin. Catching one hand, he placed it pinned overhead, a single eyebrow raising as silent order to have her other join its partner—an order she obeyed with a thump of her heart against her ribs.

That leather collar was warm and smooth against her skin as he dragged it up her belly and between her breasts ever so slowly. Dexterous as always, he secured it quickly around her neck, the leather damp from his own wearing. It made her shiver and forced a swallow to press against where it choked her just slightly. “There now,” he crooned in those sweet, rolling tones, “back where you belong.” Brow canting, he teased her, taunting her. “Tch,” his smirk curled as he aucked his teeth, “naughty girl…” Smirking lips captured hers, his kiss was all fangs and tongue, hungry and salivating with unmet need.

“A spoiled bully,” she groaned as his fingers slid inside her overstimulated and swollen fold, “that’s what you are, Astarion.”

“Mmm, I prefer to think I’m more of your irksome, demanding lover,” he rasped, his fingers picking up the pace as he stroked inside her channel and teased her clit, just hard enough to make her hips buck against his touch. “The mate you’ll never be rid of, sorry darling…” he chuckled deep in his throat as he caught her nerves under his nail, making her cry with bliss.

Those long, muscled legs of hers wrapped around his waist, a silent affirmation that she would never wish to be rid of him. She needn’t say a word, her mind filled with the joy of him, of all he was and always had been to her… The feelings flooded his mind, a wave of her love sent careening down their mental bond.

And it made him slam his cock home, deep inside her, where he loved to belong.

Neck arching, spine tingling, blood pumping… Cordehlia groaned as he filled her again. Her voice hoarse against the pressure of that collar, she gasped and panted as he chuckled, slamming his hips over and over with all the pent up need for release she had long denied him. Sweat dripped from his flushed skin, his breath was hot on her neck and heavy in her ear as he fucked her, hard and fast. Snarling, his grip tightened around her wrists pinned overhead, and still she laughed. Breathless and blushing herself. Astarion pushed her harder, legs forcing her to widen all the more, his cock reaching and slamming the end of her cunt in rapid succession. Searing, burning, that wave of bliss crept closer and closer until it shattered her from the inside out the moment his fangs bit into the canting crook of her neck.

His name echoed in the room, only masked slightly by Astarion’s own grunting laughter. “Aren’t I generous?” He panted, his hips snapping with more force through the clutching waves of her orgasm. “I allowed you your release, my little raven, like a consummate… attentive lover should.”

“Fuck you,” Cordehlia grinned widely, catching her breath even as her voice rasped those two all-too-familiar words at her love.

“Are you just being observant, or are you just insisting on being ever the foul-mouthed elfling you have been….”

She shook her head, biting her lip and grinning like a fool as her fiery hair grew tangled in the furs beneath her.

“Well… say please and I’ll fill you, my love,” he whispered right into her ear, tingles racing down her spine. His thrusts grew tantalizingly slow, that sleek body of his undulating with precision into her.

Teasing. Toying. Enjoying himself.

And it made her heart nearly burst. “Please,” she sighed behind grit teeth.

Fang points, still crimson with her blood, glinted in the firelight as he gave that smirk of victory. That prideful, arrogant, insufferable, open-mouthed half-smile that instantly made her walls clench around his cock as he fucked her hard and fast. Head hanging lower, his thrusts grew erratic and sloppy, until at last that aching, burning pressure burst. A groan from his parted lips, his body surged in pleasure, stifling his breath and making his legs twitch, that warm slick of his seed erupting after such a long time of teasing and denial. Arms shook; he stared into her own matching crimson eyes, their haze of lust glimmering back as she matched his final thrusts.

For a moment, they froze, blistering hot and dripping sweat as they caught their breaths. Astarion’s lips pressed against hers first, the rest of his sleek body lowering bit by bit until he wrapped Cordehlia in his arms and rolled them both on their sides. Fingers deftly removed that collar, setting it carefully on the furs beside them. “Of all the baubles and loot and trinkets from our journey,” he laughed, winded and parched, “this one has by far proved its invaluable worth.”

Cordehlia’s musical laugh made his own smirk broaden, his thumb tracing over those rosy lips. “I still like the trinkets you spoil me with now,” she wiped, voice husky in her throat.

“Well, it wouldn’t do to have the Ascendant’s Right Hand go unarmed, or for his Consort to leave the palace without positively dripping with jewels…” A single finger traced over the angry red lines from the collar, that taunting smirk twisting all the more rakish. “But this souvenir from our adventures is perfect for my beloved pet…”

Cordehlia rolled her eyes and sighed. “Don’t make me put it back on you, the ring too…”

“I think that has conveniently disappeared not to be seen for a long while…” he shook his head, the look of perfectly feigned innocence making her overused folds clench again.

“I suppose I should just be thankful for… my Lord’s generosity,” she sighed, purest sarcastic venom dripping in her voice.

“That… and his stamina,” he fired back, a squeeze of her breast in his palm, a laugh tickling his tongue as he kissed his love beside the fire.

[topsyturvy-turtely]

turtely's OTP challenge

read day 23 "The Beekeeper and The Book Author" on ao3!

(prompt: being old together)

summary: Beautiful. Quiet. Nice.

Gen, 360 Words, Retirement. John Watson's blog, Fluff.

✨imagine this little baby but 40 years older✨

or read it on tumblr:

✒︎✑✒︎✑✒︎✑✒︎✑✒︎✑✒︎✑✒︎✑✒︎✑✒︎✑✒︎✑✒︎✑✒︎✑

Dear readers,

This will be my very last blog entry. I don’t even know if you young people still read ‘blog entries’ – this is for the people who have followed my blog from years ago, really. Maybe this will be a nice surprise for you.

Here is a little update on our life: Sherlock and I married in the year of 2024. It was a beautiful ceremony, small but meaningful. Not many people – neither of us ever really was a ‘people person’.

We continued our detective work until Sherlock turned 67 years old. I don’t really know how we managed with little Rosie, but we did. She turned out to be one of the most intelligent scientists in Britain and both of us are extremely proud of her.

After Sherlock finally retired we moved to a cottage in the countryside. It is beautiful here. Quiet. Nice. Words, the young Sherlock Holmes would have despised. Let me tell you now, that this man has the softest and biggest heart, you could imagine. He always has had it, he just didn’t show – to protect himself, I believe.

I am getting side tracked… Sherlock is a beekeeper now. He loves bees as if they were his own children. Puts all his research into bees as well. Even sells honey, my old boy. I am proud of him. Really, I am.

Skdico ,kjdkojoaoooooooooppposipoi

I apologise, I got distracted by a white haired and bearded (oh, yes he wears a beard now – I quite like it…) cat purring into my ear. He told me to mention my books. So, I will because otherwise this gorgeous lfjklalaaaa

Where were we? Oh, yes my books. What is there to say? I turned my blog into a book. Book series, really. You can buy the books on Amazon – just search for “Sherlock Holmes Books” and they will be suggested. It’s funny, they sell as if Sir Arthur Conan Doyle had written them himself. Which of course, he didn’t, they are all written by ordinary old me, Dr. John Watson.

So this is us. Retired consulting detective and doctor, now beekeeper and book author.

It is beautiful. Quiet. Nice.

✒︎✑✒︎✑✒︎✑✒︎✑✒︎✑✒︎✑✒︎✑✒︎✑✒︎✑✒︎✑✒︎✑✒︎✑

comment on ao3!

tags under the cut :)

tag list! (tell me if you wanna be added or removed please 💚) @justanobsessedpan @helloliriels @catlock-holmes @inevitably-johnlocked @rhasima @forfucksakejohn @ohlooktheresabee @turbulenttrouble @so-youre-unattached-like-me @totallysilvergirl @peanitbear @train-mossman @loki-lock @smulderscobie @timberva @grace-in-the-wilderness @chinike @jawnn-watson @whatnext2020 @escapingthereality @missdeliadili @kettykika78 @musingsofmyown @7-percent @speedymoviesbyscience @astudyin221b @francj15 @ladylindaaa @we-r-loonies @mxster-jocale @sherlockcorner @noahspector @our-stars-graveside @jobooksncoffee @baker-street-blog @macgyvershe @myladylyssa @battledress @a-victorian-girl @dreamerofthemeadow @oetkb12 @ohnoesnotagain @mutedsilence @jawnscoffee @raenchaosandcozyadashofmurder @lisbeth-kk @quickslvxrr @compact-and-beautiful @kabubsmagga @sunshineinyourmind @booksoversleep @startrekker2011

[thedvilsinthedetails]

Rosekiller band au microfic!!!

hey guys, I wrote the first microfic in the lil series I’m doing, you can find the original idea for it here

ik I’d said I’d wait but I’m impatient hahaha

(some of the ppl that asked to be tagged if i ever wrote it: @always-reading @blu3stars @chaoticgaywitch @1284646imjusthere @depressedtheatrekiddo @idk-what-to-put-here-123)

anyway just wrote this pretty quickly so it might have some mistakes n stuff sorry abt that I don’t do grammar or punctuation anyway here you go, enjoy:

(EDIT: link to part 2)

••• Pink lipstick stains, cigarette butts

I lie in bed, I hate my guts

A day in the dark 

A muddled afternoon, yeah

Barty pressed his cheek close to Evan as they sang into the same microphone. He could feel the buzz of the music through the vibration of the stage below him. 

Oh baby darling how I long 

To become your suicide blonde

He ran a hand through Evan’s platinum curls as he sung the line. Evan leaned into it, eyes meeting Barty’s, grinning as he sung. 

To lie beside my Romeo

Oh what a wicked way to go

Evan’s fingers moved deftly on the guitar, he lifted a hand, twirled the pick in his hand before resuming immediately, he didn’t take his eyes off Barty the entire song. 

•••

“Ah fucking hell look at the comments Bee.”

Evan was sat at the base of the sofa, scrolling through the comments on a video of their performance last night. He held the phone up to Barty on the sofa, who squinted before taking it and reading it out to the room.

“Skittlefiend57 says ‘omg Blarty and Evan! I’m so gone 4 them u guys’”

“Blarty?”

Regulus raised an eyebrow.

“We’ve been getting my name wrong all these years guys. Wow that’s a crazy thing to discover at 23.”

“Bad spelling aside, there’s way more. And it’s not all good stuff.”

Evan said and Barty looked back down at the comments. 

“Barty and Evan are queerbaiting, they act so gay but they’re not dating. It’s all clearly faked to get attention. Fucking pathetic. Why thank you peenisonapizza. Glad to see you know us personally and can therefore speak on our behalf.”

“Don’t know why they’re obsessed with accusing a band with two trans guys of queer baiting.”

Evan pinched his furrowed brow and shook his head in disbelief.

“They don’t even care about the fucking music, just us and whether we’re dating or not.”

Barty laid down on the sofa, dropping one arm around Evan and resting his chin on Evan’s shoulder.

“Hey cheer up Rosie. They care about the music. There’s a few assholes but that’s a given. If they weren’t talking about us acting gay they’d be talking about whether my tattoos are real or fake.”

“Or some conspiracy theory that Reggie’s not actually lactose intolerant.” 

Pandora chipped in.

“I’m not lactose intolerant!”

Regulus replied indignantly.

“Is that you talking or your obsession with chocolate?”

Dorcas rolled her eyes as she spoke. Regulus avoided her gaze as he mumbled out a half hearted response.

“Remus got me hooked on Tony’s chocolonely.”

While the rest of the group squabbled Evan leaned his head back against Barty’s shoulder, he pulled out his phone.

***

Evan.Rosier✔️

Hey everyone, I’ve noticed there’s a lot of speculation about me and @Barty.Grouch.JR and I wanted to say that it’s none of your business, you can think what you like but please don’t ask us or spam comment sections with theories. As always thank u so much for listening to our music, the skittles luv u x

***

Evan breathed in and passed the phone to Barty.

“You think this is good?”

Barty read it over and nodded.

“You’ve been really nice about it too.”

Evan huffed out a laugh.

“I was normal about, not my fault you would have said something like-“

“Roses are red, violets are blue, you are a cunt and I hate you @peenisonapizza.”

Barty took a small bow, flourishing his hand dramatically. Evan turned around and flicked him in the leg, which only succeeded in making him laugh. 

 “Ok I’ve posted it.”

Evan clicked post and watched as the ‘likes’ number quickly began to climb.

“Now I’m just not gonna read the comments on that post.”

Evan huffed out a laugh and Barty patted his shoulder.

“Good on you Rosie. Now who wants to watch a movie?”

Evan clambered onto the sofa next to Barty who leaned against him immediately, head resting on his shoulder.

“Rosie.”

Barty whispered.

“Yeah Bee?”

“Give me your phone. Look we both know it will bother you all evening not reading those comments if you have your phone on you. Just- out of sight out of mind, I’ll give it back to you once the movie is over but you deserve to have an evening off.”

Barty’s eyes were wide, expression genuine as he spoke. Evan hesitated then reached in his pocket for his phone.

“Don’t spam it with photos alright?”

A smirk spread on Barty’s face quickly, eyes sparkling.

“I make no promises Ev.”

Evan rolled his eyes but handed the phone over. 

The movie was something Pandora had picked, something from the late 80s, a strange mix of fantasy, reality and meta theatre that Evan actually didn’t hate.

Still he drifted to sleep at some point watching it, the stress of the day had clearly gotten to him and something about the way the top of Barty’s head made for a great pillow probably didn’t help.

Either way he woke up to the feeling of Barty shaking him.

“Come on sleeping beauty, let’s get you to a real bed. Here’s your phone back.”

Evan rubbed his eyes and got up, stumbling to his room as thanked Barty in a half asleep murmur.

He got to his room and turned on his phone, wincing at the glaring brightness, turning it down quickly. He opened his photos app, just as he’d suspected his camera roll was filled with new photos.

He began to scroll through them. There was one of his friends, all waving at the camera. A zoomed in shot of Inigo Montoya‘s face on the TV screen from a funny angle. Himself, looking dumb, sleeping with his mouth slightly open. He scrolled to the next picture and stopped. Barty with that cheeky grin of his, curled up against Evan, flipping off the camera. Eyes twinkling in that way that always made Evan feel a little warmer, a little brighter. He fell asleep again dreaming of a body pressed against his in a hug, the hum of a movie no longer playing, soft hair tickling his face and mischief painted in big brown eyes. 

For info about the position they’re sat in (it’s clear in my mind but I’m not sure how clear it is in the description), the song that they are playing and the movie they watch, look below the read more:

Position they are in before Evan gets on the sofa, red is Evan, green is Barty - yes Barty is uncomfortable, yes he would sit like that anyway bc Barty will do fucking contortion to be able to hug Evan argue with a wall

Don’t question the drawing skills, I can’t draw and did it in a moving vehicle

the song is EVOL by MARINA

the movie is the princess bride suggested by the lovely @lulublack90 who u shld defo check out bc she’s rlly amazing at writing

(Oh also Evan and Reggie are both trans in this)

[ofmdrecaps]

07/22-23/2024 Daily OFMD Recap

TLDR; David Jenkins; Rhys Darby; Taika Waititi; Kristian Nairn; Dominic Burgess; Vico Ortiz; Bumbles Darby; Voting Reminders; Trends; In Person Events: FlameCon NYC; Fan Spotlight: Cast Cards/Colouring Pages; Mini Love Notes;

== David Jenkins ==

David's enjoying some of the awesome work @mistysblueboxstuff has done!

Source: David Jenkins' Twitter

Also, Chaos Dad shared some adorable work by @cheenii-m! So glad to see Dad spreading the OFMD fanart love.

Source: David Jenkins' Twitter

== Rhys Darby ==

Rhys is heading back to the UK on Nov 22 an 23 for the Republic of Pirates at Starfury Heathrow!

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A post shared by Rhys Darby (@rhysiedarby)

Source: Rhys Darby's Instagram

Volton Official is giving some love to Rhys and sharing all of his voice acting and acting exploits! Lovely to see some of his past works still praising and sending him love!

Source: Voltron Official Instagram

== Taika Waititi ==

New Time Bandits clip featuring Taika! Only 2 more days to Time Bandit's launching on Apple TV! If you've got access, please support our boys Taika and Jemaine on release day/week!

Source: IGN Youtube

== Kristian Nairn ==

Kristian delighted his crowd by playing the game of thrones theme!

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A post shared by Kristian Nairn (@kristiannairn)

Source: Kristian Nairn's Instagram

Good news! Several fans have been asking for an audio book version of Beyond The Throne-- and as you can see Kristian is working on it!

Source: Kristian Nairn's Instagram

== Dominic Burgess ==

Dominic had the honor of hosting The Blank Theatre: Young Playrights Festival! Thank you so much for supporting young folks in the industry Dominic!

Source: Dominic Burgess Twitter

A very important update from Dominic on the cat front too!

Source: Dominic Burgess Twitter

== Vico Ortiz ==

CW: Topless Vico! Also a video on their tiktok!

Source: Vico Ortiz' Instagram

== Bumbles Darby ==

Rosie keeping us apprised of Bumbles shenanigans!

Source: Rosie Carnahan Darby's Instagram Stories

== Voting Reminders ==

= Tell Tale TV =

Tell Tale TV's poll is still up and you can vote every day! No need to sign up-- if you have a moment please vote for OFMD! Poll: What’s the Most Heartbreaking TV Cancellation of the Year So Far?

Source: JimJim531969 on Twitter

= Gold Derby Voting =

Reminder! If you haven't already, and you're comfortable signing up with an email-- you can still vote for Our Flag Means Death, and Rhys Darby for Gold Derby Awards! You can do so here! Thank you @adoptourcrew for continuing to make these beautiful visuals to remind folks to vote!

Source: Adopt Our Crew's Twitter

== Trends ==

Thank you to @melvisik for catching this yesterday!

== In Person Events ==

In person event happening at Flame Con X in NYC at Sheraton Times Square (Room D). on Sunday Aug 18 at 1 pm! If you'd like to join you can get your tickets at flamecon.org! It is a masked event, fyi!

Source: hisglassoftea's Twitter

== Fan Spotlight ==

= Cast Cards =

Tonight's cast card by @melvisik is listed as a stand-in as well as in Republic of Pirates Town according to https://ofmd-crew.com/!

Source: @melvisik's Twitter

== OFMD Colouring Pages ==

Another fabulous colouring page from @patchworkpiratebear -- hey I recognize that merman! Loving the texture on this one.

Source: Patchwork Pirate Bear's Tumblr

== Love Notes ==

Hey lovelies, being so swamped as I am right now I'm gonna just be sharing some love notes from some other folks for a while, hope you're all doing okay.

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A post shared by poets of instagram (@poets)

Source: Poets Instagram

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A post shared by Jess Adams (@jess.a.creates)

Source: Jess A Creates

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A post shared by Haley Hendrick (@haleyincarnate)

Source: Haleyincarnate's Instagram

[gentlebeardsbarngrill]

06/12/2024 Daily OFMD Recap

TLDR; David Fane; Rhys Darby; Taika Waititi; Con O'Neill; Rosie Carnahan-Darby; June 12 Pulse Rememberance; Tell Tale TV Reminder; EMMYS FYC; SchadenFreude; Love Fan Spotlight: Cast Cards; OFMD Colouring Pages; Love Notes; Daily Darby/Tonight's Taika;

== David Fane ==

Congratulations are in order for David! He's been awarded the 2024 Fulbright Creative New Zealand Pacific Writer's Residency! Learn more on what that is and what he plans on doing with it on CreativeNZ's Site!

Source: Creativenz Instagram

== David Jenkins ==

For those of you not on twitter-- Twitter decided to turn off the ability to see anyone's likes that were not your own. A lot of people took issue with that-- including David as you can tell.

Source: David Jenkins Twitter

== Rhys Darby ==

Another picture of Rhys At To 29 and Beyond. He really is just a little guy.

Source: To_29_and_Beyond Instagram

Just a little appearance from The Cryptid Factor boys <3

Source: Schreiberland Instagram

== Taika Waititi ==

More gorgeous picture of Taika from the 84th Annual Peabody Awards

Source: Sthanlee's Instagram And a sneaky Taika photo at the venue.

Source: lauren_.jessica's Instagram

== Con O'Neill ==

More pics of Con and crew at his new short film.

Source: Krisdeeds Instagram

== Rosie Carnahan Darby ==

The one and only Rosie Carnahan-Darby has asked for some help regarding getting a petition signed to save the natural wonder of Pupu Springs from mining! Wanna help our Captain's wonderful wife out? Please sign the petition if you are able/willing-- warning it does require a name, email and your "location" but you can choose international, it doesn't have to be in NZ. It's for a good cause!

Source: RosieCD's Twitter

== June 12 Pulse Nightclub Remembrance ==

I realize this isn't OFMD related, but it's pride month, and it is queer related and I know it's affecting a lot of you. Just wanted to take a moment to remember those lives lost at Pulse on this day in 2016. Rest In Power Friends.

Source: VotoLatino Instagram

== Tell Tale TV Reminder ==

Final round is still going on! Remember to please vote for Rhys, Ruibo, and Our Flag Means Death (as well as any other shows you'd like)! Tell Tale TV Awards

Source: TellTale TV's Instagram

== Emmy's FYC ==

Emmy voting starts tomorrow! June 13-23 is the last chance to make an impact! Keep pushing those tags if you feel up for it! #EMMY4RHYSDARBY, #EMMY4TAIKA, #EMMY4CONONEILL, #FYC, #EMMYS. Thank you to our kind crewmates over at Our Flag means Fanfiction for keeping us apprised of the timing and really pushing for this!

Source: Our Flag Means Fanfiction Instagram

== SchadenFreude ==

WBD Isn't having a great day.

Source: WBD Nasdaq

Their day didn't get any better because our friends over at NeverLeftPodcast decided to show some comparisons between WBD's stock and the other streaming platforms.

Source: NeverLeft Podcast Twitter

== Fan Spotlight ==

== Cast Cards ==

Tonight's cast card from @melvisik is another one of our background actors, specifically an English Soldier. Thanks Mel!

Source: @melvisik's Twitter

== OFMD Colouring Pages ==

Today we have more awesome colouring pages by @patchworkpiratebear and distributed by @adoptourcrew! Today is Ed themed, can you tell?

Source: AdoptOurCrew / PatchworkPiratebear's Tumblr!

= Little Echo Artist =

Tonight is a special treat by the fabulous @littleechoart on their instagram! An absolutely beautiful tribute to our wonderful show <3 Please check it out!

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A post shared by Chloë A (@little.echo.artist)

Source: Little Echo Artist's Instagram

== Love Notes ==

Hey there lovelies. We've made it half way through another week. I know it's been a rough one, but you all are doing great, you're persevering. Tonight I wanted to share some graphics I found from this particular account that really helped me feel a bit stronger today...they're simple, but they make a big impact. Remember that you are doing the best you can in everything you're dealing with, and even if progress is slow, even if you have to take a step back. it's still happening. Don't give up on yourselves lovelies. You're doing everything you can, and that's what matters. Sending so much love, and hugs your way. Reach out if you need support <3

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A post shared by The New Happy® (@newhappyco)

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A post shared by The New Happy® (@newhappyco)

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A post shared by The New Happy® (@newhappyco)

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A post shared by The New Happy® (@newhappyco)

Source: NewHappyCo on Instagram

== Daily Darby / Tonight's Taika ==

Tonight's theme is Goofy Men with Hats. Two days of Taika as Hemi from Space Waltz in a row, you ask? Yes. What of it? I love the oblivious goober. Gifs courtesy of our friends @mulder-isms and @theylorswift <3