#scenes take forever to do stuff that could have happened really quickly

[daffodil--lament]

"glaowster" "glochester" i disagree

[sideeve]

LOVE TRIANGLE ! ! | with both morales’

— what happens when you have both of the morales boys in love with you ?

— love triangle trope , best friends with miles , miles g being that annoying brother , best friends brother type thing , no smut but heavy heated making out … with miles g IF YOU ARE OLDER THAN 17 , GO AWAY ! THEY ARE BOTH MINORS ! !

best friends since the womb. your mama and mrs. morales with best friends before they were pregnant, which made you and the morales brothers become close.

well…only one morales brother.

miles g. was closed off and never wanted to be around you.

when the both of you were younger, he’s cut up your toys and your favorite clothes.

but miles?

he was an angel. your partner in crime. the both of you were always together at any given moment.

car pooling with mama morales? he would sit next to you. at a restaurant with them? miles was there next to you.

fast foward to teenage years

nothing has changed. well, except that they both have an alter ego. but miles still made it his job to still hang out with you.

and miles g….was just there.

he wasn’t really that mean anymore but he still teased you.

lightly punching you, pinching you, holding stuff over your head, tickling you out of nowhere.

deep down, you thought it was cute. he finally changed.

you couldn’t lie, you had feelings for both brothers. but you showed your feelings more for miles. he was your best friend.

then things changed drastically when miles started talking about gwen a lot.

you’d just be sitting in his room, trying to chill with him but he would just keep talking about gwen…while drawing her in his journal.

one day you had enough, you needed to get out his room. “i’m gonna watch tv in the living room.” he didn’t even notice what you said. he just kept ranting about the girl. you shook your head, leaving the room. there was miles g. “don’t you have a room with a playstation?” you lean on a wall, looking at him. he puts his controller down, looking at you. “this is my house, right?” you scoff, sitting next to him, “i think i can actually take watching you play this. better than listening to your brother.” you cross your arms. “whatchu mean?” “he won’t stop talking about some girl. like every time i’m with him, it’s about that girl.” he laughs, “he don’t know how to treat a girl.” you swing to him, “and you do? you just stopped terrorizing me after all these years.” you laugh. “want me to start again?” his hands grab your waist, flipping you on the couch where he is above you. “miles…?” he didn’t respond. he was too focused on your lips. he’s wanted to kiss them since was 13. “fuck.” he curses before pressing his lips on yours. in instinct, you wrapped your arms around his neck, telling him this was okay. he pulls away, a thin line of saliva connecting from both of your lips. “that’s new.” you laugh. “been wanted to do that, ma.” he pulls you on his lap. “you’re fine with this, right?” he wanted to kiss you once more. he needed to. “yeah. i’m good with it.” this time, you went in for the kiss. he was shocked at first but quickly loosened up. his hands rested on your thighs, squeezing them from time to time. “[ name ]? where’d you—” miles finally noticed you were gone and wanted to find you. but the scene he saw you in would burn in his mind forever. “what the fuck, miles?” miles pulled you off of his brother, pulling him up from his collar. all miles g could do was laugh, “all you did was talk about that white chick, what was she supposed to do?” you knew a fight was about to stir. you had to leave. your pillows were soaked with your tears. you almost had lost your best friend. but your phone was blowing up from the both of them. what were you gonna do?

[c-o-t-o]

Unsure if you're still taking requests, but if you *are*.... is it possible for me to rq denji (csm) x fem!reader with fluff prompt #2 leading into n.sfw prompt #6?

I Wanna Taste, Part 1

Author: c-o-t-o

Character: Denji x fem reader

CW: s.fw, character aged up, descriptive kissing scene

Misc: 714 words, Part 1 of ?? Requested by anon (cooking with them, them licking food off your lips). Thank you so much for the request! I didn’t know how n.sfw you wanted this to go, but feel free to request again and I can continue the fic with another part and make it spicier~!

About: You and Denji make your own food and dessert, but Denji wants a taste of yours.

*Do not remove info or credit from posts when reblogging or sharing!*

Denji has really been enjoying cooking with you lately. Probably because he loves to eat, and he knows that there's a delicious reward that comes with cooking alongside you. He's not always… successful when he cooks by himself. So he has really come to love doing that with you.

Dinner was simple tonight though, after a long day of working all Denji wanted was instant ramen. But you made it a little nicer by bringing home some meat and veggies you could both put in it to make it a little more substantial.

The real fun tonight though, was putting some dessert together. You brought home plain cheesecake and you both made your own slices special with some fresh fruit and different kinds of sauces. Naturally, Denji put every kind of sauce on there all mixed together like he was a mad scientist mixing together some kind of concoction. But you made yours nice and elegant with some strawberry slices and chocolate sauce.

The whole time that you're both eating your cakes, Denji looks back and forth between you and your dessert. You notice this and smirk to yourself.

“How's your cheesecake, Denji? Does it… actually taste good with all that stuff on it?” You ask with a chuckle. Denji drags his last piece of cheesecake through the pool of sauces and jams on his plate before bringing the dripping piece of goop to his mouth.

"Sho’ good,” Denji manages to say with his mouth full. "I really like all the sweet stuff you brought home to use.”

"But you even used the jelly we already had, wasn't it all too sweet?” You laugh as you bring a bite of your cake up to your mouth. Denji has stopped answering, now that his gaze has become fixated on your fork bringing pieces of cake to your mouth, like a dog jealously watching its master eat.

"Denji…? You okay?" You stop and ask him, your head a bit tilted because he looks like he's suddenly in a trance.

Denji's mouth is hanging open slightly. He swallows hard and breathes out heavily. You realize that his eyes have locked onto your lips, and he hasn't looked away from them. Although it's only been about a minute, it feels like forever, with how deeply he's been staring at them. Realizing that, you start feeling your heart flutter in your chest.

Denji grabs the corner of the table between the two of you, slowly pulling himself towards you. His eyes still locked onto your lips, oblivious to everything going on around him now, including you asking him what's wrong.

He continues to pull closer, standing up now to close the distance between the two of you. His hand reaches out, fingertips gliding up your jaw towards your cheek.

Speechless from how quickly this is all happening, you can't get the words out anymore and can only look back at Denji's lustful eyes with a hint of nervousness.

He pauses inches away from you, still breathing hard. You can hear his voice quietly, deeply panting as he tries to calm him breathing. Swallowing hard one last time, Denji cups your face with his hand and leans in to licks your lips.

Immediately, you feel a surge of body heat rush between your thighs in response. You close your eyes to savor the feeling and try to kiss Denji back.

But no, that's not quite it. Not quite what Denji was looking for. With his free hand, he grabs the corners on your lips with his thumb and forefinger, causing your lips to pout. He keeps licking them and suddenly sucks your bottom lip into his mouth. You can hear his moans with your tongue in his mouth now, the vibrations traveling from his tongue to yours. Denji's tongue laps yours for a few seconds before finally pulling away from you.

You gasp for air as your mouths part, and you see Denji lick his fingers that were holding your lips. He looks you straight in the eyes, wipes his mouth with his forearm, and grins with his sharp teeth.

“You had some chocolate on your lips," Denji whispers, grabbing your chin delicately. “After seeing how good your dessert looked, I wanted to see how sweet you would taste, too."

[moni-logues]

A Simple Favour

Pairing: Changbin x named reader (afab, she/her)

Genre: fake dating, friends-to-lovers, smut

Summary: Your temper got the better of you and you lied to your sister. Rather than coming clean, you get your best friend playing pretend, too.

Word count: 21.5k 💀

Content: fingering, protected sex, discussion about sex toys, some very uh, unshowered sex lol, reader is called Miki (Mikyong)

A/N: ahhhghheghhef my longest ever one-shot and first ever fake-dating fic is here!!!! And it's BINNIE!!!! this all started with this post and I truly never had any intention of turning any of them into proper fics. But then.... but then I honestly couldn't stop thinking about this Changbin and so I wrote a scene and then another, and then another and suddenly, it was happening! I HAVE given reader a name, because it's frankly annoying af to not be able to call your reader anything and I don't like using 'y/n' lol so hope that is ok with y'all hahah

Thank you to @minisugakoobies for beta-ing and @violetsiren90 for all the sprinting and enthusiasm!!!!!!!!!

* * *

“I need to ask you a favour.” 

“Yeah, ok, sure.” 

“No, no, I need you to hear what it is first.” 

You sat down next to Changbin on the sofa and it was only then that he started looking as if he was paying attention. 

“Ok...” 

“I need you to be my boyfriend.” 

Changbin was out of his seat before the word had come to an end. 

“What?!” 

“Not really!” you cried, immediately standing up again, hands raised, trying to placate him. “I just need you to pretend to be!” 

“What?!” 

You groaned loudly and tipped your head back to shout at the ceiling. Then you motioned for him to please return to his seat so you could explain. 

“I... may... have... toldmysisterthatwe’retogether.” 

He was on his feet again, roaring. 

“WHAT?!” 

“It’s not my fault, ok?! You know how annoying she is!!!! She won’t stop going on about how we act like a couple and how we’d be good together and why don’t we just get together and don’t I see and no one else wants to go out with me anyway, what, do I think I could do better and I just fucking snapped!” You gripped him hard on the arms and stared, wide-eyed and grimacing at him. “I couldn’t take it anymore,” you told him through gritted teeth. “I snapped. I told her we were already dating but trying to keep it quiet until we knew if it was going anywhere.” 

Changbin did exactly as you had not a minute before: looked skyward and groaned all too loudly at the ceiling of your apartment.  

“So you mean to say that your sister now thinks we’re a couple?” 

“Yeah... and I mean, Chan, too, obviously. He was there.” 

Changbin closed his eyes and took a deep breath.  

“You mean my best friend Chan?” 

“Hey! I’m your best friend!” 

“Not anymore!” 

He took a few steps away from you and shook his head, shook out his arms, rolled his shoulders. You did not know if you would be able to convince him to go along with your charade. It wouldn’t have to be forever, not even for long; you just had to find a way to back out of it that left both your names untarnished. Couldn't be that hard, right? 

“Please, Binnie,” you began, tone softer now, sweeter, pleading just a little. “I know, I suck. But my sister sucks more and I really just want to get her off my back for a bit and I promise I will sort it out. I promise I’ll let us break-up quickly and you’ll come out smelling of roses! But please, please back me up on this.” 

He turned around, looking at you seriously.  

“What exactly is involved?” 

“Well, y’know, if Chan asks about it or something, just... go along with the lie. You don’t have to do anything really.” 

“Except for the lying and deceit and stuff.” 

“Yeah.” 

There was a pause in which Changbin stood, staring out of the window, hands on his hips, deliberating. Then he turned sharply to look at you. 

“I have a date tonight. Can we start tomorrow?” 

You inhaled sharply through your teeth, eyes shut tight.  

“Nope!” 

You winked an eye open to see how he’d react. There was outrage on his face. 

“What do you mean ‘no’?!” 

“You can’t go on a date with someone else if we’re together!! What if someone sees you?” 

He shouted again at the ceiling. 

“I was going to get laid tonight!” 

“Sorry!” 

You cowered, made yourself as small as possible, watching him as he nevertheless unlocked his phone and fired off a quick cancellation text. 

“I’m going to make you pay for this, you know,” he told you as he typed. 

“I know. I deserve it.” 

“Fine,” he said with a sigh. “I’ll do it.” Then he flopped back onto the sofa and patted the seat next to him. “But to be absolutely clear, I am not going to your stupid family lunches.” 

“Actually...” 

* 

You were at your stupid family lunch. You had been going to Sunday lunch with your family for what felt like forever. At first, you and your sister schlepped way too far outside the city to your parents’ house, but now your sister hosted. Your sister and her husband, who just so happened to be best friends with your best friend. Why did the world have to be so small? 

This time, your boyfriend was here, too. Sorry, your ‘boyfriend.’ It had taken a thousand favours owed and promises of future gifts made, but Changbin finally agreed to come, and you had agreed the rules for this deception: 

1. You and Changbin had been dating for a ‘few weeks’ (since you got drunk at the river and decided to say ‘fuck it why not?’ to the whole thing).  

2. You made the first move. 

3. When in public together, you would always be prepared to act like a couple, should you run into anyone you knew.  

4. Changbin would lead and you would ‘yes, and’ him, no questions asked. 

5. Absolutely no dating other people, just in case.  

6. It was your job to find a way to end it that made both of you look good – or at the very least, made Changbin look good.  

7. No one—and that meant no one—else could know that it wasn’t real. 

Just as you were walking up to your sister’s front door, Changbin added another: you would give him servings of everything first – including seconds and thirds, even if they came from your own plate. He knew your mum and sister cooked well and he was going to enjoy at least some part of this afternoon. You felt you had no choice but to agree. 

“Hello,” you called as you entered your sister’s house, without enthusiasm.  

You had been dreading this since the second the words had left your mouth the previous week. You could have just not lied; you didn’t have to have said that you and Changbin were dating; you could have controlled your temper even a little and not have got yourself in this predicament. You could even have swallowed your pride and embarrassment and told your sister it was a lie, that you had said it to try to shut her up. It wasn’t like it would’ve been the first time you’d told her how annoying she was.  

But you hadn’t. You had lied and now you were sticking to the lie and Changbin was fully involved (if not invested) and you were about to spend an afternoon pretending to like him. 

You liked him fine, as a friend. You liked him a lot, even, as a friend. But he wasn’t That Guy to you. He’d never elicited so much as a single butterfly in your stomach. Not a flitter of a wing or twitch of an antenna. He was just Binnie. And you knew he felt the very same about you.  

“Finally,” your sister said by way of a greeting as she came down the stairs. “You’re late-” 

“No, we aren’t,” you snapped back, fully prepared to argue further but the look on your sister’s face took you by surprise. 

She was surprised.  

“Oh, Changbin! I didn’t know you were coming.”  

There was a sly smile on her lips as if there was a joke you weren’t in on, but you didn’t have capacity to be annoyed by that; you were waiting with bated breath to see what Changbin would do. 

“Hi, Hanbyeol,” he said, as polite and charming as he might ever have been. “Miki said she told you I was coming. I hope it’s alright I’m here.” 

“Of course it is! The more the merrier, right?” 

She winked at you as she walked past into the kitchen, and you rolled your eyes.  

“Absolutely!” Changbin responded, following her, grabbing your hand and tugging you along, too.  

This was going to be a very long afternoon.  

* 

The very longest afternoon of your life. When Changbin had made you promise to ‘yes, and’ him, you had thought he meant go along with his concocted story of your first date or something.  

You hadn’t expected... whatever the hell it was he was doing.  

The first time he called you ‘baby,’ you literally, physically flinched and had to try very hard not to scowl. The second time, the only thing that might have given you away was the flare of your nostrils. The third time, you dragged him off away from everyone to hiss viciously at him. 

“What the fuck are you doing?” 

“What?” he asked, with as much innocence on his face as he could muster. 

“Calling me fucking ‘baby?’ Why? Why would you do that?” 

“Aren’t you my baby?” 

“For fuck’s sake, Binnie! NO, you know I am not! What are you doing?” 

“You said I could play this however I liked and you also said I wouldn’t have to do anything but here I am, in your sister’s house, performing my perfect little tush off to keep your lie intact! So suck it up, baby: this is how Changbinnie dates!” 

You rolled your eyes and swore under your breath once more. 

“So you mean to say that you’re going to make this as painfully cringe-worthy as possible and embarrass us both?” 

“Both? Oh, I’m not embarrassed!” 

He didn’t wait for your comeback to that one and strode back into the kitchen, leaving you quietly seething but not yet regretting sticking to your lie. You could cope with an afternoon of this.  

Which is what you thought until you actually sat down to eat and Changbin made you stick to your word and serve him first. It was almost impossible to do it with a smile on your face – you were sure you resembled some kind of grotesque, with a rictus grin and clenched teeth – but you did your best. You really tried to be sweet to him, to pretend to care that he got the best cuts and biggest pieces of meat, that you were happy for him to take the last dumpling from your plate.  

You were sweating from the effort of it. You have never wanted to leave your sister’s house more. You felt suffocated. Hot. Uncomfortable. Embarrassed. Your parents were there; they also had to think it was real and you hadn’t considered the implications of him meeting the parents until it was too late. Suddenly, this felt serious.  

You had thought it would be easy pretending that you and Changbin were together because... well, you did spend a lot of your time together as it was. You were close. You were so close that it was what got you into this mess in the first place! If you already acted enough like a couple for your sister (who barely ever saw past her own nose) to see it, then the job was already done – you had thought.  

You had underestimated Changbin. Of course you had. His mischief, his love of performance, his inability to not do something that he knew would stitch you up in some manner. They all combined into what was sure to become your absolute worst nightmare and there was no one to blame but yourself.  

You were just going to have to find a way out of it and quick. 

* * * 

“Changbin! How nice to see you again!” Hanbyeol crowed the next week when you dragged him along for a second time.  

“Of course! The food last week was so good, Hanbyeol, I had to come.” 

She actually blushed. 

“Please, Changbin, call me Hani.” 

You rolled your eyes; she was too easily flattered and Changbin was a little shit.  

You hadn’t planned to make him come again. You would have preferred that he didn’t. But... Well, your sister just knew how to press your buttons. She had expressed her surprise at your apparently real relationship with Changbin, even uttering the words ‘I didn’t really believe you.’ She had then proceeded to lecture you on how to behave in a relationship and warn you of all your ‘usual tricks’ that apparently kept romantic partners away. You had been so thoroughly goaded that you had hung up on her and immediately dialled Changbin, telling him, in no uncertain terms, that he was  ‘coming next week even if I have to kill you and drag you there.’  

He had put up a fight, but the food really had been that good (your sister had many flaws, but cooking was not one of them) and he let his arm be twisted in far less time than before.  

He behaved in much the same way as he had but, this time, you were prepared for it. You had braced yourself. You even managed a real smile at Changbin at the dinner table, despite the fact that he, once again, ate the last dumpling from your plate. He didn’t up his game or do anything more to try to embarrass you this time – perhaps he hadn’t expected your quick adjustment; he had overestimated your temper – but you were glad for this. You had to admit (for a microsecond only) that he might actually be a good boyfriend.  

Neither of you had had any serious relationships in the time you’d been friends. When you met, your relationship was in the middle of a breakdown and your ex had moved out before you and Changbin had become firm friends. Changbin had dated, a lot, but none of them seemed to stick. Sometimes, he was sad about it; he would show up at your door with ice cream and his favourite blanket (yes, really) and you would coax the story out of him, trying not to press too hard on his bruised pride, his wounded heart. Sometimes, he chucked them before it got that far.  

You’d actually not really spoken about relationships all that much. You assumed Changbin didn’t want anything serious because he never had it. You assumed that he assumed you wanted to be single because you (mostly) were. You shared horror stories from occasional bad dates and Changbin sometimes made you pick out his outfits, but you didn’t talk about them. You didn’t talk about your fantasies and dreams, your ideal partners, ideal relationships; you didn’t talk about how much you really did want to have one. You weren’t single because you didn’t want a relationship; you were single because you didn’t know where to find one.  

You had burnt out on the apps in double-quick time and weren’t really sure where else to find anyone. You would never take up your sister’s offer to set you up, which might honestly have been cutting your nose off to spite your face because you did like Chan and she was happily married to him, but there was simply no way you would ever have been able to live with her smug self-satisfaction if she had been the one to introduce you to a life partner. And that left you with very few other options.  

* * * 

Having a fake boyfriend—who was your best friend at that—turned out to be quite a lot of fun. You did all the same things you usually did, plus handholding when in public and tolerating whatever cutesy baby-talk Changbin threw at you during your family lunches. That was easy.  

Your friends were outraged when you told them. Not because they opposed the union but because you hadn’t told them before. They went back through your friendship with a fine-toothed comb, pointing out signs and hints that they had known ‘all along’ that you were into each other. 

There were no signs. There were no hints. Because you weren’t into each other. But you let them have their fun because it helped sell the lie you were trying to peddle.  

* * *  

“Sister,” your sister began, on the phone to you almost two weeks after your second lunch. 

“What, sister?” you replied, already unamused. 

It wasn’t that you didn’t like Hani. She just... rubbed you the wrong way. A lot.  

“You and Changbin should come on a double date with us.” 

“What?” 

“A double date. Me and Channie; you and Changbin.” 

“Ugh.”  

You didn’t have a much more articulate response than that. Really? Why? Why did she always have to suggest these things? Why did she need to be so nosy? So many of the thoughts that stuck in your brain when it came to your sister began with the word: why. 

“Why?” you asked, already trying to think of excuses not to go.  

“What do you mean why? It’d be perfect! Channie and Changbin are friends; you and I are sisters; we all already know each other! You’re always such a spoilsport!” 

“But Binn- Changbin and I have already been for lunch twice; that’s basically the same.”  

You had stopped referring to him as Binnie since you had starting ‘dating’ him. You had deliberately not thought about why that was. 

“It’s not the same at all! Lunch is casual and boring! Our parents are there! We should go on a real date, have some fun!” 

“Maybe your relationship needs a fun injection but mine doesn’t.” 

You could see her rolling her eyes, hear the stomp of her foot on the floor. 

“Kim Mikyong,” your sister said and needed to say no more. When she full-named you, you knew it meant she wasn’t taking no for an answer, and you had given up fighting her on it because she showed surprising restraint in using it.  

You sighed. 

“When do you want to go?” 

“Ah! Perfect! I’ll ask Channie and get him and Changbin to set it up! It’s going to be so much fun!” 

She hung up without bothering to say goodbye and you looked at the phone in displeasure. You didn’t even know if Changbin would agree to it. It had taken so much coaxing to get him to lunch.  

And this was going to be so much worse. 

* 

But you’d been wrong before.  

Changbin lived two floors above you and, shortly before half-six, he was knocking at your door to pick you up for your date—your double date. 

You opened the door and surprise swallowed your greeting. He looked good. He looked like he’d put effort in. You remembered the outfit from one of the times he’d asked your advice; he’d worn this outfit on a date before. Your first instinct was to be peeved that he was recycling an outfit for your date. Then you remembered that you were only pretending to be together. And then you thought, actually, that maybe it was sweet he had put together a Date Outfit for the occasion.  

You’d put on a dress and everything, too.  

“You look nice,” he said, still standing in your doorway. 

“Thank you,” you replied sincerely. “So do you.” 

It was quiet in the lift as you descended, and you jumped a little when Changbin took your hand as you left the building. He looked at you, quizzical. 

“Sorry, just forgot what we were doing for a second.” 

“Hey, I’m happy not to hold your hand, but this was your rule.” 

“Yeah, yeah, it’s fine; it’s good. I mean, we should. It’s safer. We should. I just- I just forgot; surprised me.” 

You squeezed his hand in yours, because it was there to squeeze, and you realised you felt nervous. Your sister had been right: this was different. Lunch was casual. This wasn’t. You tried to remember how your sister had previously acted on double dates, but she hadn’t been able to get you on one since you were with your ex and that was a long time ago now.  

You wondered how Changbin would act. He had been so keen to play the game and embarrass you up until now; would tonight be the same? He seemed normal so far, but he didn’t have his audience yet. And everyone was still sober.  

* 

Your sister cooed and stretched across the table to you and Changbin, grabbing your hand and his forearm and giving a squeeze. 

“Oh, I’m just so happy!” she exclaimed, and you could tell by the way she scrunched her nose as she smiled that she was in one drink too deep. “I want you two to be so happy! Aren’t they happy, Channie?”  

He grinned at his wife and nodded before turning towards you.  

“Are you happy?” 

You shrugged which was very clearly the wrong answer. 

“Mikyong!” Hani hit the table with her palm.  

You shrugged again. 

“What?! What do you want us to say? I’m not going to fucking rhapsodise about it at the dinner table!” 

That was a mistake. You’d have seen it coming one bottle of soju ago and you wouldn’t have set foot in that trap. 

“Then I will!” Changbin said, tossing back his maekju, punctuating the end of his sentence with the thunk of the glass on the table.  

You groaned, inwardly and then out loud. Changbin turned to look at you, a sweet, shit-eating grin on his face. 

“I feel honestly amazed,” he began, his eyes widening in what you knew he hoped your sister would take for some kind of wonder or awe. “It seems so weird that we didn’t see it before.” He took your hand, and you clenched your teeth so hard your jaw hurt. “It feels so natural to be together, y’know? I’m more than happy! I’m comfortable and content; being with your best friend is the greatest thing in the world.” 

Hani cooed for so long, you worried she’d run out of breath. She held a hand to her heart, and you almost thought you saw tears in her eyes. She could give Changbin a run for her money in the dramatics department. You didn’t see Chan’s reaction because he hid his face taking a drink. Changbin had promised, as part of the rules, not to tell anyone else and you trusted him, but Chan would be the person he’d tell. Which worried you. Because you could fool your sister; your sister was a fool. Chan wasn’t.  

* 

You kicked Changbin as you got up from the table and made sure you walked behind your sister and brother-in-law so you could punch him in the arm for good measure. 

“What the fuck was that?” you hissed, face hot with alcohol and anger. 

“What was what?” 

“That disgusting little speech you gave! ‘Oh, it feels so natural! I’m so content!’. Are you fucking kidding me?” 

Changbin chuckled and nuzzled his nose into yours. 

“Oh, baby, don’t you feel the same? You’re going to break my heart!” 

“Shut the fuck up! How am I supposed to break us up when you say shit like that?” 

He shrugged. 

“I believe that is your problem. Besides which, you promised I’d come out smelling of roses so I can say as much saccharine, embarrassing crap as I like and you can just ditch me like the cruel and heartless being you are. Problem solved.” 

“And you want everyone to pity you for having your soft heart broken by me? Because that’s what’ll happen! They’ll ooh and ah and ‘poor Binnie’ you for weeks. And how are we supposed to continue being friends if you’re that heartbroken?” 

You could tell by his silence that he was annoyed to not have a quick retort. 

“See? You’re trying to embarrass me and make me squirm and yeah, it fucking works, but you’re also prolonging this! You’re making it harder than it has to be!” 

“Oh, whatever!”  

* 

The four of you stood on the subway, going in the same direction for at least part of the way home. Hani and Chan only had eyes for each otherour sister claimed they were ‘still newlyweds!’ but you didn’t think that, after over a year of marriage, she had any right to do so. You were glad that they were busy being moony-eyed at each other; it meant you and Changbin could relax a little, finally out from underneath the scrutiny of the pair. You weren’t holding hands, but you leant a little against his solid body, letting him support you as the train twisted and jostled you.  

You wouldn’t have cared—wouldn't even have been looking--a few drinks ago but you couldn’t tear your eyes away from the two of them. Envy grew like mould in your heart. You were happy for your sister, of course you were, but you wanted that. You wanted it for yourself. You wanted someone to look at you the way Chan was looking at Hani right now. You wanted marriage. You wanted that happily ever after shit that you knew didn’t really exist, at least not like in all the stories. But you wanted someone to believe it. Wanted someone to promise it to you even if it was beyond their power to enforce.  

It made you bristle, made you annoyed. At anyone. Everyone. Hani. Chan. Changbin. Yourself. You’d made this bed. It wasn’t as if you had been dating anyway, but now you had removed that as an option; you couldn’t even try to find what your sister had and it was all your own fucking fault. You watched as Hani took hold of the lapel of Chan’s jacket and lifted onto her tiptoes to press a giggly kiss to his mouth; you didn’t manage to hold back the scoff, didn’t manage not to roll your eyes.  

Your sister rolled hers in return and tutted. 

“What, Miki? I can’t kiss my husband?” 

“I didn’t say anything.” 

“Your face says it all. Kiss your own boyfriend, why don’t you? And stop looking at mine.” 

“He’s not your boyfriend.” 

“No, he’s my husband and you’ll never get one if you keep going around on dates with a face like that.” 

“Hey,” Changbin says, smiling beneficently, “I like her sour, ugly face.” 

You punched him hard on his left pec and he ‘oof’ed quietly but it didn’t stop him smiling.  

“Yeah?” Hanbyeol challenged. “That’s a face you want to kiss, huh? Really? Don’t believe you.” 

Changbin reflected her challenge in his eyes as he looked down at you.  

“Maybe I don’t want to kiss him,” you spat, glaring at your sister, ignoring Changbin’s offer.  

“Oh, Mikyong, you are a bitter old maid, you bitch. Let your boyfriend kiss you if he wants!”  

Did he want? 

Your heart was beating faster than you’d have liked. Your mouth went dry when you finally turned to Changbin to acquiesce. This hadn’t been part of the deal. Did he really want to do this? You didn’t. This was weird. It would be weird! How could you pull this off? It was your first kiss! Changbin was about to kiss you for the first time! His face was leaning down! He was really going to do it! How could you let him get this close? How can you pull away without ruining everything? What should you-! 

His lips were soft and the kiss was gentle. Lasted no more than a second. It took longer for you to come around from it, your mouth pouting and open, looking at Changbin as if you were lost and he would show you where to go. He lifted one side of his mouth in a lopsided grin and winked. 

That broke the spell.  

“Happy now?" you asked your sister, your ‘ugly, bitter old maid’ face back on-screen. 

She rolled her eyes, good-naturedly.  

“Whatever, Miki. You are so easy to tease.”  

She said it all looking dreamily at her husband and it made your stomach drop. She only had eyes for him. He only had eyes for her. You were desperately trying not to look at your ‘boyfriend.’ You didn’t know where he was looking.  

* 

You got off the train a few stops later, leaving Chan and Hani on it. You were itching to be by yourself. You had to process what had happened. Changbin had kissed you. Kissed you. Sure, he was goaded into it; he did it because your sister told him to. But he still did it. You didn’t know how you felt about it. After just ten minutes, you were starting to believe it hadn’t even happened, that you had somehow imagined it. Because you and Changbin didn’t kiss. Even though you were pretending to be together. You didn’t kiss. That didn’t happen. 

Changbin walked you to your door when you reached your floor and you turned in the doorway, looking at him as sour as you’d ever been. 

“Going to try to kiss me goodnight?” you asked, jeering and hating yourself for it.  

Changbin looked at you, a little hurt, a little annoyed, a little fucking tired of your prickly temper.  

“No,” was his simple reply.  

You didn't say anything back, but he didn’t leave, so you each stood in silence, one either side of your doorway. You knew he wanted to say something as mean-spirited as you had; you knew he was better than that so he wouldn’t. 

He turned his body slightly away, as if to leave, and then looked at you, mostly just sad, you thought. 

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I shouldn’t have kissed you. We haven’t talked about that; we haven’t agreed anything on that. I just thought you’d want to show your sister. Prove it or something. So I’m really sorry. I’ll see you later.” 

He was walking away and you could taste something bitter in your mouth: your own temper, your impatience with people, your totally unfair expectations of people that were better than you but liked you anyway.  

Steeling yourself and clenching your fists, you followed after him. 

“Changbin,” you called softly, prompting him to turn around.  

You took his hand in both of yours. 

“I’m sorry, too. Sorry I’m such a bitch. The kiss was fine. Thank you. It was good. Probably necessary; I don’t know. Thanks. I guess. Sorry.”  

Changbin just laughed and pulled you into a rib-squeezing hug. 

“You are so fucking stupid.” 

He was very, very right. 

* * * 

Changbin knocked at your door and entered your apartment with far less cheer than he might normally. You hadn’t spoken about the kiss since it happened and there had been no repeats of it. Things had fallen back into your new normal ‘friends who are pretending to be more than friends’ sham. 

“What’s wrong with you?” 

He sat on your sofa and looked up at you, still serious. 

“Remember how you asked me for a favour?” 

You asked him for lots of favours but you immediately knew which he was referring to. 

“Yes.” 

“Remember how you said it’d be over quickly?” 

“... Yes.” 

You did not like the direction this was heading in, but he was owed, you knew that, so you determined to meet your fate with grace. 

“Remember how the very night you asked I had a date?” 

“Yes.” 

“Remember how long ago that was?” 

“... A month?” 

He hummed and nodded.  

“I was going to have sex that night, but I didn’t get to. Why?” 

“Because I made you cancel so you could fake-date me.” 

“Exactly. Know what that means?” 

You couldn’t see where he was heading because- well, you could see, but you didn’t really know what the favour was going to be. You weren’t sure you wanted to find out.  

“Uh, I don’t know.” 

“It means it’s been well over a month since I last had sex. Because of you.”  

“I’m sorry?” 

He chuckled and his face brightened. 

“I don’t want you to be sorry, babe-”  

You had long stopped flinching at the terms of endearment as they leaked into your non-fake-dating time, too. If Changbin had noticed, he didn’t let on, but you were aware every time he called you anything other than your name.  

“-I’m just saying. Aren’t you bothered? It’s not like you’ve been getting any either.” 

You shrugged. 

“No. I guess I’m not that bothered? I don’t know; I’ve been longer without. A month isn’t exactly that long. And it’s not like there aren’t ways to entertain myself.” 

“Don’t you get bored of that though?” 

You laughed. 

“Did you really come here for masturbation tips?” 

The tightened curl of his lips and aversion of his eyes told you he was embarrassed and he was never embarrassed. 

“No,” he answered pointedly. “I actually came to suggest that we have sex.” 

“What?!”  

The shock brought you out of your chair. He could not be serious. 

“What?” he returned. “We’re already fake-dating! Why not make a bit of it real? It doesn’t have to mean anything. Except both of us getting some... release. Relief. Call it stress relief! From the stresses of pretending to be dating. It’ll make the pretence easier, too, since it doesn’t seem like you are going to actually break us up anytime so-” 

“I am! I am! I’m working on it...”  

You couldn’t help the whine that crept into your tone. You were working on it. Or at least, you had been. It was too difficult. How could you find a way for your relationship to end and for you to remain friends at the end of it? And with each day that passed, it got harder, because your ‘relationship’ had gone on longer. And everyone was expecting it was getting more and more serious – especially as it was built on the foundation of your very solid, very real friendship.  

“Ok and while you work on it, we could be having sex.” 

“Changbin...” 

He regarded you carefully and you looked back, hoping you looked as pathetic as you felt.  

“You don’t have to say yes. I won’t take it personally. I just... I honestly just really want to get laid and you are the only person I’m allowed to have sex with at the moment. So you’ve really stitched me up here.” 

You sank down next to him on the sofa and laid your head on his shoulder. 

“I am sorry. I really didn’t mean for it to go on this long. I didn’t mean to stitch you up. It’s kind of got out of hand--. I actually didn’t mean to create this mess at all. My sister sometimes just brings out the worst in me.” 

“Yeah,” Changbin replied, patting your knee. “Family can do that.”  

There was a brief lull and then Changbin slapped his own thighs and stood. 

“Well, if you don’t want to have sex, I’m out of here.” 

“I didn’t say that!” 

He raised an eyebrow at you, and you were furious that your cheeks had the audacity to warm. You were a grown woman; he was a grown man. You should at least be able to talk about sex. You did talk about it! You had discussed it! 

But it was different when it was this – the two of you having it. Together. There was a line there. And he may have made some good points (you weren’t getting any; as long as you were pretending to date each other, you couldn’t sleep with anyone else; it would make the pretence easier), but suggesting it didn’t have to mean anything? Surely it meant something. It had to mean something! Friends didn’t just fuck their friends. That never worked. It always made things weird.  

Weirder than they already were? Wasn’t it already weird that you pretended to be together whenever you saw any of your friends, any of your family? Wasn’t it already weird that Changbin was so used to calling you ‘babe’ and ‘baby’ and god knew what else that he said even when you were alone? Wasn’t it already weird that you didn’t hesitate anymore, that the words ‘I have a boyfriend’ fell from your lips without your even having to try? Wasn’t it already weird that you were... getting used to this? Enjoying it even?  

“I didn’t say I didn’t want to. I also didn’t say I did. I don’t know. Don’t you feel like it would be weird?” 

He shrugged. 

“Maybe. Kind of too horny to care.” 

“Seo Changbin!” 

“What?! I'm being honest!” 

“I’ll think about it, ok?” 

“Sure. No pressure. I mean it.” 

“I know.” 

You did know. You would trust him with your life, and he was the softest little goober you’d ever met. That he might pressure you was not your concern at all.  

* 

You were true to your word: you thought about it. On and off over the next couple of days you thought about it. How much further over the line was it, really? You held hands. You had already kissed, a little. Ok, once. Was sex really such a leap? It would lend a lot of credence to this stupid lie you were both living. And you would get to have sex.  

But it would be with Changbin. What if he was bad at it? What if you discovered you were bad? What if his dick was weird? What if he liked stuff you hated? Or vice versa? You didn’t know if you believed that sex could be Just Sex, but, even if it could, that didn’t mean it wasn’t complicated. There were factors. A lot of them.  

A week and a half later, you thought you were experiencing déjà vu when Changbin entered your apartment again, asking for a favour. 

“Sex again?” you asked as you shut the door behind him. 

“Not exactly. It’s more embarrassing.” 

You did not attempt to hide your glee. 

“I love it; please ask immediately.” 

“Last time I asked about sex, you implied that you didn’t get bored getting yourself off. I’m asking, how? ‘Cause I’m looking at my hand like it’s my fucking enemy at this point.” 

You laughed. 

“Do not laugh!” he shouted. “I’m in actual need. I’m in agony. Please. Tell me how to make it more interesting for myself.” 

“I mean... Firstly, we have different parts, so my experience is not directly applicable to you. Secondly, how can you be that bored? Have you seriously never gone this long without sex in your adult life?” 

He shrugged but you recognised the look on his face: the one where he tried to hide a smug, gloating, little grin.  

“Are you seriously telling me you haven’t gone more than two months without sex?” 

“I haven’t had to!” 

“Oh my god.” 

You were in half a mind not to help, feeling like it might somehow expose you as undesirable, because you had been more than two months without; two months was currently very much in your rear-view mirror at that point.  

“Well,” you began, leading him into your bedroom, “for a start, if you’re only using your hand, then you are in for a treat. An entire world awaits you.” 

You knelt down next to your bedside cabinet and gathered all your toys, laying them out on the bed with a flourish. Changbin looked a little overawed.  

“That’s a lot of stuff.” 

“Yeah and you know you have to use them all at once?” 

For a second, he believed you and his eyes grew as wide as you had ever seen them before he scowled at you. 

“Shut the fuck up. I came to you for help. You owe me.” 

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, I’m just teasing. Now, like I said, a lot of these won’t be applicable to you, or might be but I cannot vouch for any kind of pleasure or satisfaction because most were designed for vulvas and vaginas and not penises.” 

“I love it when you talk dirty to me.” 

“Oh, now who’s teasing?! You want help or not?!” 

“I do! Sorry! Fine, carry on.” 

“Ok, well, this,” you held up a rather unwieldy, slightly inelegant thrusting toy, “is my favourite. It does not look sexy but it sure as shit feels it. The problem with the others-” you gave a sweep of your hand over a few other insertables on the bed- “is that I have short arms and sometimes I just can’t get the angle I need and keep a firm grip on them, right? Which is why this one is so good.”  

You stopped yourself just as you were about to- to what? Demonstrate? You put it back down on the bed in a hurry. 

“Ok, well, I don’t need anything like that.” 

“No?” 

“I top.” 

“Right. Ok.” 

You lifted another, much smaller toy. 

“That looks like something you’d use to clean your face.” 

“I cannot recommend it for that. If you want to get someone to squirt though, she’s your man.” 

Changbin looked surprised. 

“Ever made anyone squirt?” you asked, not sure if he would answer. 

He shook his head. 

“No, me neither... Except myself. With this. I’m not saying it’s guaranteed but she knows how to get the job done, y’know?” 

“Huh.” 

He took it from you, examining it as if he could learn its secrets from looks alone.  

“It’s a suction toy,” you clarified. “Works on the clit. Sucks. Hard. Not entirely sure what you might get out of it, but y’know, if you want to give it a try...”  

You laughed, feeling a little heat on your cheeks. It was both exceptionally weird and very not weird to be talking to Changbin like this.  

“Isn’t that weird?” he asked, looking at the toy in his hand like it was a live grenade. “To use your sex toys?” 

You shrugged. 

“They’re clean if that’s what you mean.” 

“Wasn’t suggesting they aren’t. It’s just... Isn’t that kind of intimate?” 

You hadn’t thought about it before, but he had a point. And the more you thought about it, the more intimate it seemed. These toys, all of them, had been used on you, had brought you to climax over and over again in the time you’d owned them. They knew your secrets; you were exposing your secrets to Changbin by even showing them to him. If he used them, too? A shiver like ice water slipped down your spine.  

But he was the one who had previously suggested you have sex. This was less intimate than that, right? 

You shrugged. 

“It’s just a thing, really,” you replied, even though it wasn’t at all what you thought. You moved the conversation on quickly. “I guess you’re not interested in butt plugs if you don-” 

“I didn’t say that.” 

You looked at his face but he was looking at the spread on your bed, his eyes roving across the row of plugs on the right.  

“Ever used one?” you ventured, a little tentatively, not sure if it would constitute a slight to suggest he had or hadn’t.  

He shook his head and you noticed the tips of his ears redden. 

“I probably don’t need to tell you to go careful,” you began, taking a few of the options away, the ones that were too big, a little too intimidating for a first-timer. “But you should go careful. Start small, start smooth. And never, ever insert anything without a ba-” 

“Yeah, I know!” 

His ears were redder now. He still had your suction toy in his hand and you could see how tightly his fist was clenched around it. It confused you because Changbin couldn’t possibly be that embarrassed. Could he? 

Silence fell and you weren’t sure what to say. Should you tell him which one to pick? Did you have to advise him how to use it? How could you do that when you had no idea the sort of things he liked? You wiggled your toes in your socks and tipped up lightly onto them before bringing your heels back down. 

“Ok,” you began slowly when it was clear he wasn’t going to speak. You picked up a little purple plug, soft silicone, bubbles of increasing size. You handed it to him and shrugged. “Give something like that a try. See how you like it.” 

Changbin didn’t look at you. He looked at the plug. He put the suction toy back down on the bed and continued to look at the small, beaded rod in his hand. 

“Uh,” you continued. “Ever used a cock ring?”  

He let out a comically enraged cry and stalked from your bedroom. 

“Bye!” he called, not looking back as he pulled open your front door and let it slam shut behind him. 

“Hey!” you shouted after him, catching his arm just as he walked out your front door.  

He stopped and turned. 

“You know the internet exists, right? Wouldn’t that have been less embarrassing than coming here and asking me?” 

He scowled, let out another anguished shout and stalked off. 

You laughed because you had to laugh, because he could have just used the internet—it would have been quicker, easier, less embarrassing, and probably more helpful. But he didn’t. He came to you and asked for your secrets. You didn’t know what that meant.  

There were nerves fluttering in your stomach that made you feel awkward and self-conscious. It felt like a line had been crossed somewhere. Not a bad line? But a line nonetheless.  

You returned to your bedroom and surveyed your collection left on your bed and wondered if you might take a few for a spin yourself. You decided not to. Changbin was in your head and if there was one person in the world you did not want to be thinking about, it was him.  

* * * 

You tried not to think about it anymore. Sex. Changbin. Any thoughts that involved either sex or Changbin. Nothing that strayed into that territory. It was a hornet’s nest, you’d decided. Nothing good could come from opening that can of worms. He could use each and every single one of your toys if he wanted but not your body. No. No. Nope. 

But you were having trouble focusing your mind. You were ovulating and this month in particular was being a real fucker. Your body was punishing you for being single. It was sick and tired of preparing a baby house and having you not put a baby in it. It was doing its damnedest this month to make it happen. 

You were out of your mind horny.  

You were beginning to sympathise with Changbin. You were, unfortunately and no matter how much you tried not to, thinking about his offer. His request. You were thinking about doing him, and yourself, that favour he’d asked.  

It couldn’t be that bad, could it? It could be good. He’d made some fair points. And you were curious now, you had to admit. You’d not, before this whole fake-dating thing, given much thought to how Changbin fucked, but your curiosity had been piqued. You hadn’t had your butt plug returned and you could only assume that meant he was enjoying it, though he hadn’t confirmed either way. You wondered if you could entice him to spice things up a little more. You wondered what he did. What he sounded like. What he- 

“Fuck!”  

You slammed your hands down on your desk and took a deep breath. You were not supposed to be thinking about this. You were supposed to be—you moved your mouse to wake your monitor—creating yet another tedious spreadsheet.  

You: you working rn? 

Bin: no. gym 

You: later? 

Bin: come over after work 

‘Oh good’, you thought to yourself sourly, ‘that gives me four more hours of this. I’ve got to stew on this for four fucking hours before I can even broach the topic.’ 

The thought made you sick. You didn’t examine why. You worked for five more minutes, messaged your manager to say you weren’t feeling well and logged off.  

Then you left your apartment and went down to the gym. 

* * * 

You were having a great day. A fantastic day, in fact. That was what you were telling yourself. Because you were about to hit a new deadlift PR and that made it fantastic, as long as you ignored everything else going on in your life. Which is exactly what you were doing. 

You were looking down at the bar on the floor, heavily loaded, and you were talking to it nicely. You were a team: you, the bar, the weights on either end of it. You were a team, and you were going to do this thing together.  

You took a deep breath, taking no notice of the guy a few metres away who was watching you. You didn’t care about him. You never cared about men in the gym because the gym was yours. And no two-bit, ’roided-out gym bro was ever going to put you off your stride. And certainly not today. Let him watch. You’d show him.  

You adjusted your feet and shook out your hands before placing them on the bar. You favoured a mixed grip. You got into position, took a breath in, braced your core, and lifted.  

It flew. 

This was not a weightlifting gym, or anything close to that; it was the gym in your apartment building that came ‘free’ with your exorbitant rent, so you had to carefully lower the weights back to the floor. Then you allowed yourself a loud, crowing whoop and a double fist-pump. 

You stood straight, victorious, not even trying to hide the grin on your face and, when you tuned back into the world, the man who had been watching you was clapping. You whipped around to face him, assuming the worst, assuming he was patronising you or mocking you, but he grinned brightly at you. 

“PR?” he asked.  

You nodded dumbly.  

“Nice one. Congrats. You made it look easy.” 

He smiled and nodded once at you and then turned back to his own workout: a push day, it looked like, as he sat down on an inclined bench and lifted two enormous dumbbells to his shoulders. 

Huh. 

That was nice. You didn’t have many nice interactions with men at the gym. Men like him anyway. He was big, hulking, probably bulking given the softness of his skin on his arms, the fit of his tight T-shirt. You’d noticed him before, once or twice; he must live in the building to be using the gym but there were hundreds of people living here so that didn’t help much. He lifted heavy and kept to himself. That was really all you knew. 

It distracted you somewhat from your victory, this guy. This nice guy who might actually have been normal. You turned back to the bar and tried to get back in the zone, remember just what you were doing. But that had been it. You were going to PR the fuck out of this lift and then stretch yourself into oblivion.  

It was only when you were moving to the free area, walking past him, that you realised you hadn’t responded when he congratulated you. 

“Thanks, by the way,” you said as you passed, timing it carefully so you wouldn’t take him by surprise with 20 kilos above his head.  

He smiled again. 

“You’re welcome. You’re not trying for more?”  

He nodded to rack, where you’d put everything away. You shook your head. 

“Quitting while I’m ahead.” 

“Well, you really did make it look easy. I reckon you’ve got more in you.” 

He meant with regards to deadlifting. He meant he thought you could probably take another five kilos, or maybe even ten, but it was exactly the sort of thing you needed to hear at that moment and a lump formed in your throat. It took you off-guard and you felt your cheeks heat. You just nodded and moved quickly to the floor where you put yourself in child’s pose to hide your face.  

You focused on counting your breaths and moving slowly between stretches. You didn’t look his way again when you left. You returned home, sat heavily on your sofa and cried. 

* 

That had been your first interaction with Changbin. And for a while it was your only interaction. Your workouts didn’t overlap and you didn’t see him in the corridors. 

Then you walked into the gym on a grey, cold November morning, barely awake and not looking forward to exercise. There were a few others there already: a much older man walking slowly on the treadmill, a very bendy woman working through some yoga on the mats, and that guy. The one from your deadlift PR.  

You were pleased to see him, though you couldn’t have said why. He had, technically, made you cry. Even though it wasn’t anything at all to do with him and everything to do with your relationship falling apart around you and your self-worth being at rock bottom and your absolute desperate need for a win, even a tiny win, anything.  

Still, it was nice to see him again.  

You took to a treadmill to try to shake off your sleep and then moved slowly through an upper body workout. Everyone always said they hated leg day but you? You hated arms; you hated chest; you hated back and shoulders; you hated pushing and pulling. What you wouldn’t have given for squats that frosty morning.  

You had just placed your dumbbell onto the floor with an unforgiving thud, setting your timer for a 30-second rest when he approached you.  

“I’m so sorry to interrupt,” he began, and he did sound it, “do you have just a minute to spot me?” 

You couldn’t answer immediately. You? He wanted you to spot him? He could probably bench you; how on earth would you be any good to him? 

“Me?” you asked. “Are you... sure?” 

He just looked towards the old man on the treadmill (yoga woman was already finished and out of the gym) and shrugged. You giggled and stood. 

“I’ll do my best.” 

“Thank you!” 

You followed him to the squat rack and tried to do your quickest maths to calculate the weight he was attempting. You grimaced internally; that would break your fucking back. But you didn’t want to make him feel nervous or to knock any of his confidence, so you pretended you were confident, too, offering up your arms as he lodged himself beneath the bar. You kept your hands hovering as he stepped back, as he lowered, as he pushed up.... It was shaky and slow and you were genuinely worried for a second that you would have to really do something, but he made it. He took two steps forward, dumped the bar on the rack and let out a cry that was far too loud for the hour.  

You laughed. 

“PR?” 

He grinned. 

“You know it.” 

“I wish I could say you made it look easy but...” 

He laughed, properly laughed, and shook his head. 

“Why are you trying to ruin this moment for me?” 

You laughed in return and introduced yourself. 

“I’m Miki.” 

“Changbin,” he offered in return, holding his hand out for you to shake. 

* 

And that had been that. Somehow, though you didn’t quite know how, your workouts began to coincide more and more; you began to chat between sets; he continued to ask you to spot him despite knowing that you could do no such thing. Then one day you asked him to hang out outside the gym.  

Now you couldn’t shake him. Even if you’d wanted to. Which you didn’t. Never had.  

* * * 

You could literally feel yourself salivate as you watched him lift and you could not believe yourself to be such a basic, animal being. Humans were supposed to be above all that ‘in heat’ stuff, but apparently you weren’t. You were watching him—leg day, beautiful leg day—deadlift, watching him hinge, watching the tension on his face, the pump in his quads.... You had officially crossed the line into creepy, but you couldn’t help it. 

You were hot. Literally, physically too warm.  

“Binnie!” you shouted, striding across the room to him. It had slipped out, the first time in two months you’d referred to him as something other than ‘Changbin’. You didn’t even notice. 

He looked at you, confused. 

“What are you doing here?” 

“Couldn’t wait until tonight. I need to talk to you.” 

“Is everything ok?” 

You shrugged, as if this was casual. As if you were about to say something normal to him. 

“Everything’s fine, but...” You scanned the room to make sure it was empty. “Look, I’m here to take you up on your offer.” 

The confusion did not leave his face. 

“Offer?” 

You shrugged again. 

“Favour, request, whatever. I want to have sex.” 

His mouth dropped open and he blinked twice before his brows furrowed again. 

“What?” 

“You heard! I want to have sex!” You whispered it, hissed it even, despite the empty room. It was embarrassing to be asking. 

“Ok,” Changbin shrugged. 

You had been expecting a fight, you now realised. You had thought he would protest a little – not necessarily against the sex itself but the fact that he had already asked and you’d turned him down. You thought his ego might make him string it out a little, make you work for it.  

“Ok, so are you finished here?” 

There was the surprise you were after. 

“Now?” 

“Yes, now!” 

“I’m- I’m at the gym!” 

“So finish.” 

“Well, I...” 

“I’ll wait if you really haven’t finished your workout.” 

Taken aback by the turn of events, Changbin looked a little dazed and nodded. 

“I only have a couple of sets left,” he said and you nodded. 

“Cool, I’ll wait for you upstairs. My place?” 

He shrugged, looking as if he had no idea what the right answer was.  

But it had to be your place. It had to be on your ground, not for a home advantage but... something like that. Somewhere you felt in control. Somewhere you felt comfortable. Somewhere you knew exactly what your bed was like and where the condoms were.  

You decided to take the stairs, initially, because you had energy to burn. Then you realised that tiring yourself before the sex was an even stupider idea than the sex itself, so you opened the door at the top of the next flight of stairs and used the lift.  

Bin: gonna shower. Be there in 15? 

You: no come now. 

Bin: ??? 

You: what? 

Bin: I'm sweaty 

You: so? 

When he didn’t reply again, you assumed he was ignoring you and showering anyway, but then you heard the beep of your keypad and the door opened.  

“Can I just ask,” he began, no greeting, “before we do this... What the fuck has got into you?” 

“What?” 

“You were not exactly up for it when I asked about it and now you’re skipping work to fuck me? You’re not even letting me shower?” 

Your face heated with embarrassment, but the mere fact that you were asking for this gave the game away anyway, so was there really any shame in it? 

“I’m ovulating,” you stated, as if that would explain it.  

It would, to you. Possibly to anyone else who menstruated. Changbin looked at you wild-eyed. 

“Uh...” 

You saw his hands just barely raise at his sides, his right foot stepping backwards as if he were trying to surreptitiously retreat. 

“I’m not trying to get pregnant, you moron! I’m ovulating and that means I am out of my fucking mind with- with wanting to get laid! I am desperate.” 

“Well, you sure know how to make a man feel desired.” 

“Oh, shut up. You know the situation we’re in and you said as much to me last time: there is no one else we can fuck right now, but if I don’t fuck someone, I’m going to lose my mind.” 

“What happened to your arsenal of toys?” 

“Not the same and you know it. I just need to be fucked right now. I am desperate; don’t make me say it again!”  

You couldn’t help the impatience and frustration in your tone and you knew it wasn’t sexy, wasn’t encouraging, but there was nothing you could do about it. You were beyond help of any kind other than his cock stuffed inside you. It just happened to make you a little less nice.  

“Don’t shout at me! It’s no wonder you’re single if this is how you proposition men!” 

“This is not how I proposition men! You propositioned me first! I’m just taking you up on it!” 

“Well I’m not going to do it if you’re going to look that fucking angry the whole time!” 

“I’m not angry; I’m frustrated!” 

“Potayto, po-fucking-tah-to!” 

“Are we doing this or not?!” 

Changbin didn’t answer immediately and you swore to yourself that, if he said no, you would be fine with it. You would not explode and die right there on the floor of your living room. And you would not hate him forever. 

He jabbed a finger at you. 

“We’re doing this but you have to not be a total cunt to me the whole time.” 

You decided not to hesitate. You didn’t have the patience for taking it slow anyway but one of you had to be decisive; it would be awkward if there was hesitation and stumbling and embarrassment. He had just confirmed his agreement. He had said you were doing it. So you had to do it. Do the damn thing. You grabbed the front of his T-shirt and pulled him towards you, crashing your lips into his.  

It was nothing like the first kiss. That was gentle and short and chaste and this was everything but. Before you’d snaked your tongue into his mouth, he had hoisted you in the air. You wrapped your legs around his waist, and he carried you to the sofa and lay you down. He moaned when you sucked at his tongue and you moaned back, your hands already pulling his shirt up his chest.  

His skin was damp and sticky with sweat, salty when you put your mouth on it. You didn’t care. You liked the soft animal of his body, liked its power, liked the way it was firm under your hands, unyielding. Liked the way he could so easily have his way with you if he wanted; it’s not like you were weak yourself but Changbin was stronger and you knew you couldn’t take him in a fight. You wanted that. You wanted all that used against you right now. Not to fight but to fuck. You wanted him to fuck you so hard, you couldn’t stand. You could already feel the intense ache in your core as it radiated heat. You needed to be touched. So badly. Now that it was actually happening, you couldn’t believe you had let yourself go so long without it.  

“Binnie,” you panted, clutching the waistband of your trousers, shuffling them down, trying to discard them. “Binnie, touch me, please.” 

He responded with a nip to the delicate skin of your neck and a hand sliding down your stomach.  

“Fucking hell,” he breathed when his fingers found your wet slit. “You weren’t kidding.” 

“What?” 

“You are desperate.” 

“Shut the fuck up, Changbin,” you spat, with perhaps too much bite. 

His fingers withdrew and he leant up on his hands, looking down at you with his brows raised. 

“You can’t ask me to touch you and then speak to me like that when I do.”  

You rolled your eyes and gave him a simpering smile. 

“Aw, does Binnie not like it when I’m not nice to him? Oh, poor Binnie,” you cooed in a baby voice. “Does Binnie like praise, huh? Want me to praise you?” 

His face hardened but he didn’t tell you it was over, that if you were going to behave like that, he’d change his mind. He didn’t say anything and you knew it was because you were right but he didn’t want to tell you. That was one benefit of sleeping with someone you knew so well. You could read him. You didn’t need him to confirm.  

But you also weren’t great at being nice. Praise was not a thing that came naturally to you. And he had said you weren’t allowed to be a total cunt to him. That was fair. You rolled your eyes. 

“Fine, I’ll be nice,” you huffed. “Promise.”  

It was Changbin who rolled his eyes then and looked as if he didn’t believe you but didn’t care either way. He lowered himself down and brought his lips to yours.  

His kiss swallowed the loud sound you made when his fingers found their way south and made their entrance. It had been too long since someone else had got you off. Way too long. You knew it from the way your walls were already spasming, your muscles tightening, your breath catching. 

“Harder,” you gasped when he let your mouth go. “Harder, faster, please.”  

There was a minute pause in which he registered your instruction and then he complied, but it wasn’t enough. 

“Seriously,” you continued. “You don’t have to be nice to me. I want more.”  

His eyes met yours and when he raised his brows this time, your stomach swooped; it was dark and promising and there was something in his eyes that said he was going to give you everything you wanted. 

He slid another finger inside you and drew back so he could focus his other hand on your swollen clit.  

You couldn’t speak. You whimpered and keened and nodded; you clutched at Changbin’s arm and the sofa cushion; you arched your back and drew your feet in. You came with a loud cry and your body flopped backwards, your chest heaving as you got your breath back, your body shaking just a little. 

“Thanks,” you panted. 

Changbin laughed. 

“You’re welcome.” 

You pulled him closer, slipping a hand around the back of his neck to bring your face to his, to kiss him, hard, deep, indulgent.  

“Where do you keep condoms?” he broke away to ask and your mind was still dazed enough that it took you a second. You shook your head, tried to clear it, and pointed into your bathroom. Changbin moved off you and you stumbled as you got to your feet. He was rising as if to go himself, but you waved him off, sat him back down.  

The few steps between him and the bathroom gave you a second to catch your breath, to anticipate what was about to happen with a buzzing kind of glee wailing in your head (and elsewhere). You felt greedy. Insatiable. You wanted to take an entire box of condoms out there and use them all. You wanted to break yourself on him, break him, until there was nothing left of you but dust.  

You took one foil packet from the box and returned to Changbin who was still standing next to the sofa, waiting for you. His black shorts hid the damp spots of pre-cum but couldn’t hide the tent of his erection. You felt your mouth water at the thought of it. An icy streak of doubt passed through you when you realised you’d never seen it before. Never had cause to give it any thought at all. What if it was disappointing?  

Then Changbin dropped his shorts and his boxers, and you let out a breath you hadn’t realised you were holding.  

“Thank god,” you muttered under your breath, not intending for him to hear, but he cocked his head at you. 

“For what?” 

You snorted. 

“Thank god you have a nice dick.” 

He laughed and you could almost see his pride swell in the way he tucked his shoulders back and raised his head a little, the ever so slightly bashful grin that nevertheless carried a certain smugness. You had never known how he did that: vulnerability and arrogance at the same time. But then again, he was a Leo. 

You wasted no more time. You pushed him back onto the sofa, tore open the condom packet, and rolled it down his length. You held his cock as you positioned yourself over him, making yourself sink slowly. Making yourself take him inch by inch not all at once, because you would never get this first time again and you wanted to savour it. You wanted to remember exactly how he felt, his girth stretching you in a way that bordered on but didn’t cause pain.  

When he was fully sheathed, you sat your full weight on him and took his face in your hands. You kissed him, sloppy and wet and full of tongue, then slowly began to roll your hips. He groaned, squeezed at your glutes, tipped his head back and sighed. 

“Fuck, you feel amazing.”  

You nodded, but he had his eyes closed, and you remembered just exactly who it was you were dealing with.  

“You, too,” you replied. You tucked your face into his neck and keened as you adjusted your angle. You didn’t really talk much, usually. Weren’t sure what to say. Knew you had to say something. You kissed his neck to buy some time, sucking a bruise into his soft skin, tasting the salty tang of his sweat. “Fuck, Binnie,” you whispered. “So good.”  

Lame. But you didn’t have the headspace to dwell on it because it was so good. He fit you just right; you were tight and wet and hot and your legs trembled every time the head of his cock squeezed past your g-spot.  

“I’m gonna flip you,” he grunted, having noticed it, feeling the clench in your walls with each pass.  

Then without another second’s delay, he did, and you were on your back and he was drilling into you with hard, precise thrusts of his hips. You let your head tip back and your mouth hang open, just as he had only moments earlier.  

“More,” you murmured as you felt you lose yourself to it. To him. To the pleasure of it all, the pressure building, coiling like a spring. This was exactly what you had wanted. Needed. The relief of it was breath-taking and that was before the orgasm hit you.  

Then it slammed into you like a train on a track and you cried out. Your eyes squeezed shut and your muscles tensed hard and your cunt clenched tight around Changbin’s thick length. He grunted, he gasped, he cried out, too, spilling into the condom and letting the tension in his body go, just enough to relax, but not so much to crush you.  

When you opened your eyes, stars danced in front of them, the ceiling of your apartment temporarily transformed into a night-sky kaleidoscope. You brushed the hair from Changbin’s face. 

“Relax, Bin, you can’t crush me.” 

He snorted lightly and let himself put his weight onto you.  

Maybe he could crush you. But you could take it. For a moment at least.  

“Thank you,” he said, his breath coming in heavy gasps, his stomach pushing against yours with each inhale.  

You laughed breathily, your lungs buried under his weight, trapped. 

“You’re welcome.” 

He lifted his head and the look on his face was hesitant, possibly even a little shy, but you knew what he wanted because you wanted it too. You drew his face to yours and kissed him, soft and sweet, then a little less, then a little deeper, with a little more urgency, your tongue dancing with his, his teeth biting down on your lips, little moans escaping the both of you.  

It lasted longer than you had intended. So long that you wanted to go again, that you’d recovered enough to want him some more, to want seconds and even thirds. The box of condoms in your bathroom cabinet sprung into your mind and your heart quickened.  

“Hey,” you said quietly, holding his face back from yours so you could look in his eyes. “Do you want to do that again?” 

It took a second for your words to register and he didn’t reply except to bring his lips to yours once more. He twisted his body so he could rest on his forearms above you, then he put his weight onto his left side, his right hand trailing down your body as he kissed you.  

* 

“Ok, now I really have to shower,” Changbin said, standing from the sofa with a long, tired groan.  

“You can shower here if you want,” you said, twisting around to watch him get dressed.  

He smiled but shook his head.  

“No way. I’ve never known a single person who takes less care of their skin than you do. Your soap would strip me like paint thinner.” 

You snorted and rolled your eyes. 

“Whatever. My skin is just naturally soft.” 

Changbin chuckled. 

“You keep telling yourself that, babe.”  

You rose, too, as he reached the door and, without realising it was happening, he turned with his hand on the doorknob and you kissed goodbye. It wasn’t until the door was shutting after him that you realised it had happened. Was that weird?  

You didn’t have the energy for it. You showered quickly and flopped onto your sofa for an ill-advised, late-afternoon, post-coital nap. 

* * * 

The next morning, you woke late and rushed through your morning workout, your morning shower, your breakfast, and hurried out of the door to the office. You made yourself a coffee, logged into everything, and then sat staring blankly at your inbox.  

You had sex with Changbin. Twice. You hadn’t given it enough thought yesterday—not after and certainly not before. But that was crossing a line, right? Sex changed things. You had put him off the first time because you thought it would make things weird, that it would be weird. 

But it hadn’t been. It wasn’t awkward or embarrassing. It was good. So good you’d asked for it again. So good that you could still feel it in your body as you twisted vacantly from side to side on your chair. It had been good for him, too, right? He had been vocal (that much you had expected) but was that acting? 

He had been a very convincing fake boyfriend so far. Maybe it had just been a continuation of the act. 

Except it had been his idea. In the first place, anyway.  

You could feel yourself getting tangled up in knots, so you had a stern word with yourself and set up blocks on your phone so that you might be able to focus better.  

* 

The frustrating thing about it was that you couldn’t talk to anyone. You couldn’t go to any of your friends and say ‘oh my god, I slept with Changbin’ because, as far as they were concerned, you’d been sleeping together for weeks—months!—now. It couldn’t be new, couldn’t be news.  

You stopped at the shop on the way home for a bottle of wine, then you took it two floors beyond your apartment and let yourself in. 

Changbin was on his sofa, shaking a protein drink in a plastic bottle. He looked surprised to see you. 

“Look,” you began immediately, plonking the bottle onto the coffee table and retrieving two glasses from his kitchen cupboard. You placed these on the table and poured a generous glug of wine into each. “I have to talk to you and you are just going to have to go with it because I cannot talk to anyone else about this, alright?” 

“Ok.” 

You took a deep breath and blew it out sharply. 

“I slept with Changbin.” 

His eyes narrowed and he looked from side to side and back to you. 

“Uh... You know I’m Changbin, right? That’s me.” 

“Yes, I know!” you shouted, flinging your hands up, sloshing wine over the rim and onto your trousers. “But I can’t tell anyone else, can I? Because then they would know we haven’t been sleeping together! So you are the only person I can talk to! Just go with it.” Then, to let him know you actually really needed this, you added, “please.” 

“Ok.” 

“I slept with Changbin,” you repeated. 

“Right,” he started, and you could tell he wasn’t quite sure what response was the right one. “Uh, how was it?” 

“Honestly, really fucking good.” 

He grinned, his proud ego shining through, and you slapped him hard on the arm. 

“Shut up!” you hissed, even though he hadn’t said anything. “I’m saying it was good.” 

“And that’s... bad?” 

“No! ... I don’t know! I don’t know anything! Isn’t it weird? Why did we do it? Why wasn’t it weird?! Aren’t you confused?!” 

Changbin looked away for a moment and thought it over.  

“I’m not confused.”  

“You aren’t?”  

He shrugged.  

“Should I be?” 

“It doesn’t affect you at all that we slept together?” 

“Does it affect you? Affect you how?” 

“I don’t know!” you wailed.  

“It’s like I said before, we’re pretending to be dating so we can’t sleep with anyone else. It’s, what did I call it? Stress relief.” 

“You also said you were too horny to care if it was weird, but now we’ve had sex, so the... the pressure is gone, right? As in... We’ve had relief... Does that change things?” 

He shrugged again and it lit a match of frustration within you. 

“Changbin! For fuck’s sake, stop shrugging! Stop being so unbothered by this!” 

“Why do you want me to be bothered?! It sounds like you want it to be weird, to come between us, or ruin our friendship or something!-” 

“-Of course I don’t!” 

“Then why are you here insisting things have to change?” 

“I don’t know!”  

A loud thumping from the apartment next door broke the tension and you both slumped back on the sofa. You would have to stop shouting if you were going to continue this conversation because Changbin had lived here long enough for you know that that was a polite warning call.  

“If it’s made you feel uncomfortable, we don’t have to do it again,” Changbin said, his voice softer now, quieter. 

“I’m not uncomfortable. I could never be uncomfortable with you. It just... I don’t know. Maybe I’m overthinking it. You’re right. It was just sex. And we’re just friends.” 

“Exactly.”  

“Ok.” 

You drained your wine glass and re-filled it, putting your feet up on the table as Changbin switched on the TV. He took a minute selecting something to watch (opting for a youtube video on the best mechanics of the Romanian deadlift which was not as boring as it sounds) and, once it was playing, he picked up his wine glass and asked, without looking at you. 

“But where does that leave us, exactly? Re: sex. Is it off the table?” 

You took a minute to think about it. You didn’t want to say no. Because you knew what it was like now. You knew what you’d be missing. And, if he was right, then it wouldn’t change anything between you. You could have it all. But saying yes still felt like saying something. And you weren’t sure exactly what.  

“It’s not off the table,” you answered quietly, your glass perched on your lips so you could take a drink as soon as the sentence ended. You took a gulp larger than you’d intended and tried not to choke.  

“Ok, then.”  

* * * 

It was so not off the table. It was so on the table that it almost became a permanent fixture. It seemed silly not to. You couldn’t sleep with anyone else while you were pretending to date each other and the seal was well and truly broken. It didn’t feel as though you had anything to lose, not since it became clear that it didn’t change things between you. 

If anything, it made things better.  

It was as if a barrier that you hadn’t known existed between you had dissolved. Pretending to be his girlfriend was so much easier now. You’d always felt awkward about the physicality of it: having to hold his hand, make sure you were near him, the occasional jeering pressure to kiss in front of people as if you had something to prove to them. It was easy now because you’d touched far more than just his hands, kissed him in ways that would be indecent viewed by an audience.  

“You guys seem good,” Chaeyong commented lightly from across the table.  

You raised your eyebrows in surprise. 

“Uh, we do?” 

“When did we seem bad?” Changbin asked at the same time. 

“Honestly, no one had any hope of the two of you making it,” Seungmin added. “You were always so weird with each other. We thought you might have broken up but didn’t want to tell people or something.” 

You and Changbin exchanged a quick glance and you tried not to make it obvious when you gulped and found the inside of your lip between your teeth.  

“You mean you think we were pretending to date?” Changbin asked, thoroughly convincing in his bemused scorn.  

“Fuck knows! But something was going on, for sure.” 

“But you seem normal now.” Chaeyoung smiled sweetly and she looked innocent but, truthfully, she had been your biggest concern: nothing got past her and you were worried that she was still unconvinced.  

“Gee, thanks.” 

Thank god for Changbin, who was unflappable in the face of his own deceptions.  

“We’re saying we’re happy for you, idiots,” Seungmin offered with a withering glare before turning to his other side, where apparently the conversation was of greater interest.  

You turned to Changbin with a slyly triumphant smile on your face, which he returned exactly. You didn’t stop yourself leaning forward to kiss him and he didn’t stop you either.  

* * * 

For the first few weeks of your ‘relationship’, you had genuinely spent time and effort trying to think of a way for the two of you to end it. None seemed satisfactory. You weren’t really an experienced liar (not to this extent) and they all seemed transparent, lame, obviously made-up. It was as if you had never experienced any sort of relationship before because you just couldn’t think of a reasonable way for you and Changbin to stop dating. 

Frustrated by your lack of progress on the topic, you thought of it less and less often. Then you and Changbin started sleeping together and you stopped thinking about it altogether. This situation was working out quite nicely for the both of you. All the fun parts of a relationship with none of the drawbacks.  

You were enjoying it so much, you were annoyed you hadn’t thought of it before. And it seemed like the feeling was mutual. Changbin hadn’t raised the topic of your break-up; he still called your pet names and kissed you in public.  

You had been sure, when you first suggested it, that it would be a disaster. But your desperation to get one over on your sister had been just enough to override that worry. Now, you were certain it was the best idea you’d ever had, and you were very nearly grateful to Hani for forcing it.  

“Hey,” Changbin said softly, catching your hand and dragging you away from the group.  

It was summer and the river park was busy. You had amassed a greater group of people than you’d expected – word going around to friends of friends of friends – and your absence from it would not be noticed quickly.  

Not that anyone would care if they did notice. You were a couple now; you were allowed to disappear by yourselves. 

“Have you met Sakura?” he asked.  

“Uh, yeah, Felix’s friend, right?” 

He nodded. 

“Yeah, I mean, we met today. I don’t know her. Why?” 

“She asked me out.” 

“What?! Doesn’t she know you have a girlfriend?” 

It shouldn’t have bothered you. Because you weren’t his girlfriend, not really. You didn’t have any real claim to him. In fact, this should probably have happened before now, you told yourself. Changbin was a catch; he was hot and fun and kind and, frankly, anyone would be fucking lucky to have him.  

But you had him. As far as anyone knew anyway. Hadn’t you literally been introduced to Sakura as his girlfriend earlier that day? Where the fuck did she get off asking out your boyfriend? 

Changbin shrugged again and you felt your hackles raise. 

“I guess she forgot? I don’t know.” 

“Well, why are you bringing it up to me? Obviously you said no.” 

“I said no.” 

“So why bother telling me? Are you saying you want to go out with her?” 

“I was just checking whether or not I’d ever be allowed to go out with anyone again. Y’know, if you were ever going to end this thing like you promised you would months ago?” 

You started. He hadn’t brought that up for ages. You hadn’t thought about it. You felt strongly that you should not admit to not having thought about it.  

“Of course, I’m going to end it,” you hissed. “Want me to do it right now so you can go over and tell Sakura you’ve changed your mind?” 

“Don’t overreact, Miki. This was always going to end. You specifically promised me that it would, in fact.” 

“And it will! I actually thought we were both ok with things as they were, since we’re both getting something from it, but fine. I’ll have your break-up ready for you tomorrow.” 

You didn’t wait for a response. You stalked off, too angry to notice that you were leaving your phone and your bag and everything else in the park. Too angry to turn back when you did notice. You walked, with heavy, angry footsteps, for a mile or two in the direction of your apartment which was still several miles away. Then you stopped and stood and didn’t know what to do. Your heart was still pounding, your breath coming heavily because you did not commit yourself to cardio in the way you did to lifting, and you were still shaky with anger.  

You could not turn back. The horror of the embarrassment you would feel having to return after storming off was too strong. But you couldn’t walk all the way home. You weren’t even sure exactly which way to go, having never done the journey fully on foot before. You were stranded. You knew your only option was the river. But you decided you would rather die than go back there. You would rather sleep on the street than show your face.  

You continued to stand there, waiting for your anger to fade, to be replaced by worry and, yes, embarrassment. You tried to guess what time everyone would start leaving. It was still light (such was the curse of the summer months) so it was entirely possible that some would stay late into the evening, the night even. You couldn’t stand out on the street for that long.  

“Hey.” 

You whipped around at the sound of his voice. He was five feet away. 

“What do you want?”  

You could see him biting his tongue, being the bigger person.  

“Thought you might you need this,” Changbin said, holding out your bag. 

“Whatever,” you replied, neither turning away nor reaching out for it. 

“Well, if you don’t want it...” 

He went to turn, to walk back the way he had come, but you snatched your bag from his hand. Before he could react, you put your feet to asphalt, as quickly as you could without running. 

“You’re fucking welcome!” he shouted after you. 

You were seething again, your stomach roiling, your blood boiling, sweat pricking in your hair. You walked to the nearest subway station in a kind of red haze, barely aware of your surroundings, cognisant only of your own body and its rage.  

* 

He didn’t call you the next day. 

Or the next day. 

Or the one after that.  

You wondered if that was it. If that would do it. Break you up. Was it already over? The thought pained you, but you were still angry with him. He had pulled you aside to tell you that another woman was interested in him; he had suggested he was interested in her. But he was supposed to be yours.  

He wasn’t yours. You repeated it to yourself, knowing that it should help, that it should make it not hurt, that it should make you not angry with him, that it was the truth. But it didn’t work. You couldn’t make it go away.  

He didn’t call you for a full week and you were scowling at lunch with your sister and her husband, your parents, too. Chan asked if he could speak with you. It shook you from your sour stupor and you followed him without hesitation. 

“So what’s up with you and Changbin?” he asked, casually, as if he weren’t kicking a hornet’s nest. 

“Nothing,” came your sullen reply. 

“Ok... So what’s up with you and Changbin?” 

You scowled some more and kept your mouth shut. 

“There’s obviously something going on between the two of you, and he won’t tell me what it is so I’m asking you. It sucks to see you two like this. You know how happy Hani and I were about you two getting together....” 

If you hadn’t been so self-indulgent with your week-long bad mood, you might have sensed his tone, caught the micro-expressions on his face that were giving you an opening. But you had been self-indulgent, so you missed them all.  

“If he won’t tell you, I don’t see why I should.”  

“You don’t have to tell me anything, but I thought I would ask you myself before I tell your sister.” 

He had your full attention now.  

“What do you mean tell my sister?” 

“I mean tell her that I’m worried that something has happened between the two of you. You’re fighting or not speaking or somethin-” 

“How do you know that?” 

“Because I know both of you? Changbin has been out of sorts all week and you have barely touched your food, barely uttered a word except to be as horrible to your sister as you’ve ever been.” 

Chan never told you off. He never told anyone off. You felt chastened and shamed but that only fuelled your anger.  

“Fine, I’ll go.” 

“That’s not what I said.” 

“I’m clearly not wanted here if I’m so horrible to your precious, little wife-” You saw the way his jaw clenched and you knew that he would kick you out himself if you said much more; it felt good, pushing that button. Made you feel like you had a little bit of control, a little bit of power. “As if I ever gave a shit about her anyway. I only come to these stupid lunches because my parents make me. I hate coming. I hate Hani. I hate you. And I fucking hate Changbin!” 

Chan said nothing. He looked at you with dark, furious eyes and took hold of your elbow. He escorted you carefully to the front door, waited while you put on your shoes, handed you your things, and shut the door firmly behind you.  

You wished you could scream. You immediately ordered a taxi and waited impatiently until you got home. Then you picked up your pillow, pressed it to your face and let rip. You raged until your head hurt and then you fell asleep on your sofa, waking in the small hours of the morning with a sore neck. You climbed into your bed and tossed and turned. You did not sleep. You refused to get up.  

When the sun was high in the sky and streaming into your apartment, there came a knock on the door. You thought for five seconds about ignoring it because you weren’t expecting and didn’t want to see anyone. Then you got up to answer it anyway. 

“So apparently you hate me,” he said in greeting.  

Changbin stood at your door. He didn’t let himself in. He knocked. He waited for you to open it.  

Then he said that, and you bit back before you could stop yourself. 

“Isn’t the feeling mutual?”  

Changbin sighed. Rolled his eyes. 

“Ok, let me know when you’ll stop being a cunt and maybe I’ll try again.” 

He walked away and you let him.  

* * * 

You kept waiting for him to come again. He didn’t. You waited for him to call or text. He didn’t. As time went on, you had assumed you would care less, get over it, stop being bothered by it. You didn’t. 

It had started to hurt. It began as a needling kind of pain, sharp but small. Then it began to grow and now you woke with a hole in your chest and bitterness in your heart.  

You thought about him all the time. What he must be telling people. You had refused to talk to anyone about it, refused to go out, shut yourself up in your poky apartment waiting for it all to go away.  

It didn’t. 

There was a knock on your door and you jumped, because it had to be Changbin. Because who else could get into the building? 

Your body physically withered at the sight of your sister. 

“How did you get in here?” you asked. 

“I know your building code, Miki. I know your door code, too, but I didn’t want to just barge in.” 

“Why not? You love barging in. You love poking your nose in where it’s not welcome.” 

Hani did not reply. She sat on your coffee table and gestured for you to take a seat opposite her on your sofa. 

“What do you want?” 

“I came to see if you wanted to talk about it.” 

“Talk about what?” 

Hani closed her eyes briefly and you knew she was rolling them beneath her lids. She was too polite to just do it outwardly, even though it was obvious how she felt.  

“You and Changbin haven’t been speaking much, huh?” 

“Fuck off, Hani.” 

“I know he misses you.” 

“You don’t know anything.” 

“I’m married to his best friend, M-” 

“I’m his best friend!” 

“Ok, ok, I’m married to one of his very close friends. Chan says he’s miserable and I know you are, too.” 

“You don’t know anything.” 

“I don’t know much, I’ll admit that, but that’s because you don’t tell me anything. Have you ever considered that I’d be less ‘fucking annoying’ if you ever let me in? If you ever volunteered information about yourself and your life? I don’t like being the person you think I am. I know you think I’m hen-pecking you, I’m a nag, I’m just like Mum and all the much less kind things you’ve said. But I’m not. You just think I am because you take every question as an attack; you think every inquiry is an interrogation.  

“You are the spikiest person I’ve ever met and the reason I was pushing the boyfriend thing with you is because you’ve got worse since you and-” 

“Don’t say his name-” 

“... Since the break-up. You were spiky before but now you’re mean and you’re bitter and miserable. And I know you want to be happy, so I pushed it. And then you got with Changbin and I was so happy. You were so happy. Now you’re going to ruin it all by being your-.” 

“That’s why I think you’re a cunt,” you interrupted. “I’m going to ruin my relationship by being myself? Thanks a fucking bunch.” 

“I was going to say you’re going to ruin it by being your worst self. Your scared self. Your angry, short-tempered self that lashes out at people. You have a soft centre, Miki, but you also have a moat full of spikes and a portcullis. You have thorns and a dragon guarding you.  

“But I saw the way you looked at Changbin and I haven’t seen you look like that for a long time. Even towards the end of your last relationship, you’d lost it. But you had it back. And I don’t want you to throw it away.” 

You didn’t reply because you didn’t have anything to say. You couldn’t argue with the truth, but you weren’t going to tell her she was right. You couldn’t take it.  

You’d spent your whole life feeling like the fuck up, the first pancake, compared to Hanbyeol and her ability to get everything right. She had one boyfriend before she went to university and they were sweet and innocent and didn’t even sleep together. Then she met Chan on her first day at university and they’d been together ever since. She graduated with a perfect degree and got a good job on a good career path and has been walking it ever since.  

You slept with your first boyfriend at the age of 15 and he promptly dumped you. You spent four years on an art degree that went fucking nowhere and did nothing for you. You’d had jobs and quit jobs and been fired from jobs; you’d dated and had partners and dumped them and been dumped by them. Nothing stuck.  

“You don’t know anything,” you mumbled sullenly back, your fire extinguished.  

“I would if you told me.” But she wasn’t chastising, wasn’t telling you off. She was just saying it, softly, gently now.  

“I don’t want to talk about it.”  

“That’s ok. You don’t have to talk about it with me if you don’t want. But you should talk to Changbin. He really does miss you. And I really don’t want you to miss out on what you had with him because you’re afraid or being stubborn. Sometimes you have to meet people halfway, Miki; it’s not fair to make him come to you every time.” 

She stood and left your apartment without another word. Your bottom lip wobbled.  

Was it too late? 

* 

You didn’t know where to start. How to start. What to do. Who to turn to. The only person you could talk about this with was Changbin because he was the only person who knew the truth. It wasn’t even a matter of your pride anymore; it would have felt like a betrayal to reveal the secret to anyone else. But you couldn’t just go to Changin, half-cocked, with nothing in your head but a jumble of half-formed sentences and no idea what you really wanted. 

You let another week go by. 

* 

The gym felt stuffy. You were sure the aircon wasn’t working properly because it should not have been that warm in there, even if it was over 30 degrees outside. You were dripping with sweat and  looking around, praying for chalk so you could dry your hands properly. You had given up on the barbell because you didn’t think you’d be able to grip it with such wet hands. You were miserable and grumpy, and the workout sucked. 

Then Changbin walked in.  

You felt sick. Your first instinct was to hide, but there was nowhere to hide. And he’d already seen you. Your eyes caught and he slowed to a stop, just looking at you. You had to make the first move. You knew you had to.  

You stood from the bench and walked towards him, crossing your heart and hoping to die that he wouldn’t walk away.  

“Hi,” you said, your voice small. 

“Hi,” he returned.  

You could barely look him in the eye. You hadn’t prepared for this. 

“It’s pretty unbearable in here, right now. I think the aircon is broken,” you offered, cursing yourself all the while. 

Changbin seemed surprised and he nodded with a small ‘oh’. 

“I think I’ll be fine,” he said. “I wasn’t planning to be long anyway.” 

“Right. Yeah. Ok.” 

It was tugging at your heart, this need to say something, this inability to do so.  

Changbin waited only a few more seconds and then he pointed beyond you and began to move away. 

“Wait!” 

He stopped.  

“I... can we talk? Sometime. Not now. Later. I don’t know. I- I... We should talk.” 

You kept your eyes trained on the ground and could feel his gaze on you. He answered slowly. 

“Yeah, ok. Text me or something.” 

You nodded and scarpered, workout unfinished, but you reached the lift and breathed a sigh of relief. Had that been so bad? You’d survived. You were still in one piece. And he’d agreed to talk to you.  

Part of you wanted to go back and tell him, actually, it has to be now. You wanted to get it over with. Another part of you wanted it to never happen. You still didn’t know what you would say to him.  

* 

You stood, nervously, outside his apartment, waiting for your courage to build to a sufficient level for you to knock on his door. It was taking its sweet time. You weren’t sure if it would ever get there. Your palms were sweaty, the backs of your knees, too. You realised the last time you were this nervous to speak to someone was the day your last relationship ended and you stood outside your shared apartment, waiting for the courage to go in and end it. Have it ended for you. Not by you. You had certainly never been this nervous with Changbin: not the first time you went to your sister’s pretending to be together, not the first time you had sex. You had always felt comfortable with him. 

Now you didn’t. And that was on you. 

You closed your eyes, gritted your teeth, and knocked. The door opened almost instantly. 

“Oh. Hi. That was quick.” 

“I know; you’ve been out there for ages. I’ve been standing here waiting for you to knock.” 

“Oh.” 

Your face flamed so hot, it made your eyes sting. Changbin stood back and gestured you into his apartment. You waited for him to sit on the sofa and then you took your place on the floor, just off to the side. Somehow, you didn’t feel like you could sit equally next to him. You had apologies to make, grovelling to do.  

Changbin waited.  

“I’m sorry,” you offered first. The easiest thing to say because it covered all manner of your sins. 

“What for?” 

Less easy. 

“Everything,” you choked. “For making you pretend to be my boyfriend, for not breaking us up, for my short temper and impatience, for overreacting to the Sakura thing, for not speaking to you. All of it, really.” 

You heard him take a deep breath but didn’t dare look at him. The silence felt stiff. You couldn’t say anything more even if you’d wanted to. You needed to know what his response was first.  

He sighed. 

“They’re not the things I want you to be sorry for... I suppose I should apologise, too.” 

“What for?”  

You were struggling with the silence. If there was one word that could never describe you or Changbin, it was ‘quiet.’ You would have needed more hands to be able to count on fingers the number of noise complaints he’d received from his neighbours. It was never like this between the two of you. It was never awkward like this.  

“I don’t want to say it,” he said eventually. “I feel like shit and I don’t want to say it because I’ll feel even more like shit.” 

“I don’t want you to feel like shit.” 

“That’s how you’ve been treating me.” 

Tears pricked in your eyes and you did your best to swallow the anger that was rising with them. Your temper was the reason you were in this mess; it could not get you out of it. But Changbin continued before you could find a word to say. 

“I got it wrong, obviously. I thought it was going somewhere. Not at first, obviously. But something had changed and I thought, ok, maybe something is happening now. Maybe this... Maybe this could be real. Then it went on longer and longer and I realised how stupid I was to think that. Because you didn’t want anything more. That was clear. That was really clear and I should have seen it long before I did.” 

He sighed heavily and fell back against the sofa cushions. You risked a peek and saw him contemplate the ceiling. 

“I made the Sakura thing up.” 

“What?” 

“I made it up. Of course she didn’t ask me out! She had been introduced to us together. You were introduced as my girlfriend; why would she have then tried something? I just had to see how you’d react. I wanted to... test, I suppose, how you felt.” 

You took your time speaking because you could feel your rage simmering in your gut. You were trying so hard not to be angry, not to react. But he’d lied to you. Manipulated you. This was his fault and all this time you thought it was yours? Why would he do that? 

“Are you going to fucking say anything, Miki?” 

‘Yes,’ you thought, ‘just as soon as I can stop seeing red.’  

“I don’t understand.”  

The words were sharp in your throat, painfully clawing their way out. You could feel Changbin’s patience ebbing away, too, and the whole situation was as if you were dancing on a tightrope. You had thought it would be easy to straighten out: an apology, some reluctant forgiveness, a few jokes and things would be back to normal. Guess not. 

“It made me feel used.”  

His confession was small. Small and quiet so you knew it was real, that he wasn’t after a reaction or a fight. He was just telling you the truth. 

“Used?” 

“I was up for it, at first. I agreed, I didn’t have to but I did. I signed up for it. I know that. Pretending to be your boyfriend was fun to start with. Making you squirm. Though, to be honest, it wasn’t fun that you were so... disgusted by the idea of us being together. The way you flinched every time I touched you or looked nauseated half the time at the thought of us so much as kissing. That wasn’t exactly a balm to my ego. But I could take it. And you got used to it, I thought. Got less disgusted.  

“Then we started having sex and things changed. You changed. And I didn’t really know what it meant but I know you well enough that I knew not to push too hard. I guess I thought, at some point, you would come out and say it. But you didn’t. At all. Things carried on exactly as they were and I realised that’s what you wanted. You didn’t want me for anything more. You wanted to have sex and pretend we were together but you didn’t want to be together. You didn’t want me. You just wanted me to keep up your pretence to get one over on your sister; you wanted the convenience of, I don’t even know what. It was like you liked the idea of being with me but not the reality of it. And I got sick of it, ok?  

“That’s what made me feel like shit. That’s what made me feel used. And I know you; I knew you were never going to talk to me about it. So I made up the Sakura thing. I wanted a reaction from you. I wanted to see if you gave a shit at all.” 

You wanted him to continue, to say things so that you didn’t have to. Because you did give a shit. You were incensed that Sakura dared to ask him out. You were angry with him because you felt like he wanted to go out with her. You felt betrayed by it. Abandoned. Rejected. Surely that had been obvious by your reaction. Surely you didn’t have to say that now? 

Though you still weren’t sure what it meant. Hearing Changbin spell it all out like that: his hurt, the word ‘disgusted’, his hope, your inability to communicate being thrown in your face when you had hoped it was a secret. You didn’t want him to see you like that: inept and selfish and inconsiderate. Used. You had used him. Your first instinct had been to kick back at that, deny it vociferously, scream at Changbin and call him every name under the sun, storm out.  

But you weren’t doing that anymore. You weren’t going to let your temper ruin this. Again.  

Or you were trying.  

“Obviously I give a shit,” you said sullenly, a little sulkily despite your best efforts.  

“I don’t know.” 

“How can you say that you don’t know? Don’t you know me?” 

“Yeah, I know you but I’m really beginning to see the limits of my knowledge. I can’t know everything, Miki. I can’t read your mind. Sometimes you have to say things. Sometimes you have to say things even if the other person already knows them! Things need to be said. They need to be heard.”  

“What things?” 

“I don’t believe you don’t know what I’m talking about.” 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about!” You could hear your voice rising but couldn’t stop it.  

“Yes, you do!” His was rising, too. “You know exactly what I’m saying and you know what I want you to say but you won’t say it and that’s the fucking problem, isn’t it?” 

You opened your mouth to argue back but he got in first. 

“Or you really, actually don’t know what I’m talking about and that, in itself, is a problem. Either way, you need to figure it out.” 

His tone was final. Conclusive. Dismissive. But you had only just got started so you weren’t going to leave just yet. 

“Why do I have to figure it out?” 

“Because it’s your problem!” 

“No, it’s not! You’re the one who lied about Sakura! You made this mess!” 

Changbin got to his feet. 

“I made this mess? This entire thing was your idea! I have followed your lead the entire time and you have led me down a fucking merry path! Do you kn-” 

“I’ve been leading?! You’re the one who suggested we have sex!” 

“You’re the one who took me up on it! And I’d never have suggested it if we weren’t trapped in a situation of your making!” 

“You didn’t have to go along with it!” 

“You asked me to! You’re my friend! Friends do each other favours! Of course I was going to say yes!” 

“I didn’t force you to!” 

“Friendship forced me, you idiot! But I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised that you don’t understand that.” 

“What the fuck does that mean?” 

You were interrupted by a knock at the door. Changbin answered and it was building security, here to offer up yet another warning regarding the noise. Changbin apologised, promised to keep it down and returned to the sofa. 

“Ball’s in your court,” he told you. “It’s up to you.” 

“What’s up to me?” 

You made the mistake of looking up at him and his glare could have turned you to stone.  

“Don’t act stupid, Miki. You figure it out.” 

You wanted to argue. You wanted to have this out right here, right now. Arguing cleared the air. You had been getting somewhere before his pathetic, meddling neighbours had gone and complained about the noise. Maybe you should have made him come to you; your neighbours had never complained, never even made a peep. Maybe you should have gone somewhere open – the park, the river, somewhere you could shout at each other amongst all the noise of the city.  

You didn’t want to leave. 

“Will you just go?” he asked, impatience ringing clear as a bell through his tone. 

You bit the inside of your lip to stop yourself saying no. Then you let it go. 

“No. I’m not leaving.” 

“I don’t have anything more to say to you.” 

“Well maybe I have things to say to you!” 

“Do you?” 

Yes. No. Maybe. They were there somewhere, the words you wanted to say, the words he wanted to hear. You knew they were there, germinating somewhere deep and dark and bloody. You weren’t ready for them to sprout, to grow, to bloom.  

“Miki, I don’t want to ask you again. Please leave.” 

When you remained sitting on the floor, he sighed and turned the TV on; he watched and didn’t look your way. He kept watching and didn’t glance down even once.  

You knew you weren’t going to say anything but leaving felt like defeat. It felt like walking away. It was walking away. You didn’t want to walk away from Changbin. 

You had no choice but to. 

* * *  

“Can I talk to you?” Chan asked, the following Sunday. 

You didn’t get the sense this time that you were in trouble, but you knew you would deserve it if you were.  

“I wanted to apologise,” he began and you started. 

“You want to apologise to me?” 

“Yes. I should have known better than to ask you so directly about you and Changbin. I just didn’t know how to tiptoe around it and, to be honest, I was kind of worried about Changbin; I was thinking of him, not you. So I’m sorry for pushing it.” 

No wonder Hani fell in love with him. 

“You don’t have to apologise to me, Chan. I should be apologising to you. I was rude; you were just being nice. I appreciate it, actually, that you came to me yourself before siccing my sister on me. I didn’t mean what I said.” 

“I know you didn’t.” 

“Did you tell Hani I said it?” 

He chuckled. 

“No, of course not.” 

“Good.” You paused. “Thank you. And I’m sorry.” 

“It’s ok. Air cleared. We’re all good. But... can I ask now about you and Changbin? He said you talked.” 

“Then you probably know everything already.” 

His eyebrow quirked and you weren’t too angry to miss it this time.  

“What?” you asked. 

“I don’t think I know everything.” 

“Enough.” You shrugged. “He says the ball’s in my court, but I don’t know what to do with it.” 

“Don’t you?” 

You could feel your conversation with Changbin started to repeat itself.  

No, you did not know what to do with the ball and you were getting pretty tired of holding it. It was Changbin. Your Binnie. Not your Binnie. Just Binnie. He was your friend, your best friend. He was your fake boyfriend because your sister had bugged you just one too many times about it. He was your friend-with-benefits because you couldn’t both keep the lie going and sleep with anyone else. He was...  

He had said he felt used. You hadn’t felt like you were using him. Or maybe you thought you were using each other, in which case it was fine. You were both benefiting, weren’t you? You got all the perks of a relationship with none of the obligations. It was ideal. It was really the perfect situation. You had thought. 

Changbin obviously didn’t feel the same. You kept running it through your head, the things he had said: 

“I thought it was going somewhere.” 

“Something was happening.” 

“Maybe this could be real.” 

It wasn’t real. That was the whole point. It wasn’t supposed to be real.  

But your anger when Changbin lied about Sakura was real. The sense of betrayal you felt. The abandonment. 

Your comfort with him was real. The ease you felt in his company. The joy and contentment in just lounging around together, with no pressure to be anything other than who and what you were.  

Your pleasure was real, once you started sleeping together. The literally toe-curling, hair-raising, blood-curdling ecstasy he ripped out of you. Gave to you. The soft sweetness of his kisses and the unyielding strength of his body; his smooth, golden skin, and curly, black hair. The noises you’d never heard him make before that you could now conjure up whenever you liked, that echoed in your dreams. All of that was real. It was more than real; it was animal. It was pure. It was mindless and easy and natural.  

Natural, too, it became when you kissed outside of the bedroom. When you leant into him and he pulled you close with his arm around your shoulder. When he held your hand. When he placed a protective hand on your back on the subway, in a bar queue, just letting you know he was there. He was there for you.  

He was right that you’d felt awkward at first. That you hated the pet names and the embarrassment that came with them. You hated him for being mischievous and jeopardising the whole operation by testing your non-existent acting skills. You weren’t sure when that feeling stopped. You were sure it was before you slept together but then you remembered the watershed that occurred afterwards. 

An invisible wall between you had disappeared; a veil had been lifted. It was as if all your interactions with Changbin before that moment had been happening behind a barrier. You were holding hands through the holes of a fence, one of you on either side of it. You were clinging to each other from far away.  

Then suddenly, you weren’t. You were on the same side of the fence. You were not just close but united. Joined. One.  

It hurt your heart to think about it. It hurt so much. It hurt like a break-up. It hurt like heartbreak.  

So you knew the answers. The answer. But you didn’t want to. 

You looked up at Chan, the inside of your lip torn to shreds.  You shrugged. 

“I don’t know what to do,” you said, and it came out tight and choked, tears you hadn’t realised were there stinging in your eyes.  

Chan pulled you into his arms for a hug and, on any other day, you’d have shoved him off, but it came as a relief. You leant into him and wrapped your arms around his waist.  

“You’re a good brother,” you said quietly, trying not to sniffle. “I’m glad Hani married you.” 

“Thanks, Miki. That really means a lot to me, you know.” 

He rubbed your back and you felt like the world’s most pathetic loser, and sickeningly grateful for Chan at that moment.  

“You and Bin can work it out, I promise.” 

You could only hope that was true. 

* * * 

You sat with the answer for longer than you should have. You should have taken it to Changbin as soon as you knew the truth. You even knew what was stopping you. But that knowledge wasn’t helping you get past it.  

You lay on your sofa, rotting, hoping to decay to the point that your decomposing body could leak into the cushions and you could become one with it. You stared at your ceiling. You were putting it off. You didn’t want to do it, but doing anything else felt like defeat, felt like shirking your responsibility, felt like running away. So you just lay and stared and waited for something to make you move.  

The longer you left it, the harder it would be. The longer you left it, the less likely it was that Changbin would respond how you wanted him to. Because you were leaving him hanging. Stringing him along—you had been stringing him along, however unwittingly, for weeks now. That wasn’t fair and he had every right to be angry, to dislike you, to not want anything more. To have changed his mind.  

God, you hoped he hadn’t changed his mind.  

You could scarcely believe that it had been three weeks now that you’d not been speaking. Three weeks with just one argument between you. No wonder it felt like a break-up. Your relationship might technically have been fake, but you had dug deep enough to realise that your feelings weren’t. 

You cringed to yourself. You hated that. You hated thinking about your feelings. You hated that they existed. You hated that they hurt so much, all the time. You hated how much you missed him, how scared you were to lose him.  

That was enough, you’d decided. It hit you over the head, your oldest friend, impatience. You had had enough of this, you said to yourself. Rip the fucking plaster off and, if you bled all over the floor, so be it. At least maybe you’d bleed to death. 

You took the stairs to Changbin’s floor and hammered on his door. No answer. You let yourself in, using his door code. 

“Binnie?” 

The apartment was empty.  

Not wanting to lose any momentum, not wanting either to give him any notice, to initiate any contact that might psych you out or knock you off-course, you decided to head to the gym. It was as likely a place for him to be as any.  

You were right. He was on the floor, stretching, when you entered. That was good; that meant he had finished. Also good: the gym was empty but for the two of you.  

You strode over and sat next to him. You placed your hand on his arm. You knew what you had to tell him but hadn’t quite picked the words. They were never your strong suit. He turned to look at you, his face an open question, and shuffled into a more comfortable position.  

The words didn’t come but the impulse did. You leant forward and kissed him. Tentative, hesitant, light. The second seemed to stretch forever; you were desperate for it to end and dying for it not to. Your heart was pounding so hard, you could hear it in your ears. Your body was flushing warm, running hot and you could feel the heat from him, too, though you knew his wasn’t anything to do with you.  

The second finally ended and you pulled back, but only barely, just enough to see his eyes, usually so intense but, at this moment, open, sparkling, asking.  

You kissed him again. You hadn’t meant to; it happened without your say so. This time, he responded. You felt his lips move against yours, his head turn so they slotted together, so he could run his tongue over your bottom lip. You moved your hands into his hair, damp with sweat, curling at the edges of his face.  

“Binnie,” you whispered, when his lips left yours a second time.  

“Miki,” he returned. 

“I want to tell you-” 

He interrupted you with his mouth on yours again. You made a noise of protest, but it was weak and you didn’t follow through because it had hit you, how much you missed this. How much you wanted it. How much you had liked it at the time and not allowed yourself to notice.  

You had to be closer to him. You shuffled on your knees and sat yourself in his lap; he pulled you to his body until his sweat soaked through your shirt. Your mouth journeyed across his face, to his jaw, walking a trail down his neck, kissing wet drops of sweat from his skin. 

“Miki...”  

“Binnie...” 

Your mouth reversed its travels and you sucked his bottom lip between yours, sank your teeth into it gently and then not so gently. The groan he made, deep in his chest, lit you up on the inside, burning hot now, your own sweat starting to prickle on your skin.  

Before you lost your mind completely to the heat and the haze, you pulled back. You pressed your forehead against his and took a second to get your breath back, breath you hadn’t noticed he had taken.  

“I need to tell you,” you repeated. “I have to tell you things.”  

You felt him nod against you. 

“Ok, you can tell me.” 

“I’m sorry.”  

It wasn’t the thing you wanted to start with. You wished you could have said it all without having to apologise. But you’d done things that you were sorry for and he had to know. 

“I’m sorry I’m so stupid and I’m sorry I used you and I’m sorry I don’t know how to be honest with you and I’m sorry I don’t know how to feel things and I’m sorry I shouted at you and was a dick to you and said I hated you. I’m sorry I did all this stupid shit. I’m sorry I didn’t notice. I'm sorry I didn’t realise. I’m sorry I didn’t speak to you. I’m sorry for all of it.” 

His lips were back before you had even closed your mouth. You pushed against his chest with your hands. 

“Stop kissing me! I have to say stuff!” 

“I know, but I have stuff to say, too, and I want to say it like this,” he replied, pausing between each clause to press his mouth against yours, staying so close that you could feel his lips move as he spoke. 

“You said I had to go first,” you reminded him. “Let me go first.”  

He huffed but leant back a little and you did the same, the air between you clearing just enough for you to remember how nervous you were, how terrified, even though he’d just been kissing you, even though you sat in his lap with his arms around you.  

“It started out not being real,” you began. “It really wasn’t real and I intended for it to never be real because I just wanted Hani to leave me alone and I was going to end it. I swear. I was racking my brain trying to come up with a good solution. Especially because you were being so annoying! I thought you wanted it to fail because you were winding me up so much. And you were right, I fucking flinched and I hated it; it made me so uncomfortable because it was so weird to have you doing that. We didn’t do that!  

“Then you kissed me on the subway and it was... nice. And then horrible because it shouldn’t have been nice! And then we had sex and it was... more than nice. And I... I didn’t want to break us up anymore because I liked how it was. I kept saying to myself that we had all of the perks of a real relationship with none of the drawbacks but what I really meant, though I didn’t know it, was that I had all the security of a relationship with none of the risk. 

“I didn’t want to risk it. Having feelings. Going there. With you, especially. Not because—not because I d--... Not... It was you, Binnie. You were my best friend. I trust you with everything. You know all of my stupid secrets; you’ve seen me throw up on the street; you gave me food poisoning so bad I literally shit myself in your doorway; it’s you--” 

“Can I make a recommendation?” 

“What?” 

“Maybe don’t talk about shitting yourself while you’re trying to confess your undying love for me?” 

You slapped him hard on the arm. 

“Shut the fuck up! I’m being fucking vulnerable here, you prick!” 

He laughed and you let him kiss you, just a little, just long enough for the flash of your annoyance to fade.  

“My point is,” you continued, pushing back against him, “that if you didn’t want me, who the fuck would? You are the person who could... You’re the person who could hurt me the most. Out of anyone. Out of everyone. If I didn’t have you, if you said no, if I fucked things up, who would I have? I didn’t want to lose you.” 

“So you kept me at arm’s length and pushed me away and didn’t speak to me for weeks.” 

“I know, I’m sorry.”  

Shame flamed on your cheeks. It swallowed your voice, made your throat tight and your eyes sting. You dropped your gaze, focusing on your hand around his bicep, your ragged thumbnail that you had chewed to bits. You watched it raise and lower as Changbin shrugged. 

“It’s ok. I did it, too. I could have brought it up. But I didn’t. Because, honestly, I knew it would go badly and I thought it would be easier to fight than talk about it. I thought you would find it easier if I pushed you to be angry rather than pushing you to be... open. I thought if you really felt anything, it would come out in an argument. That wasn’t fair of-” 

“No, that is pretty much right on the money. You’re right. It’s so much easier to be angry with you than... than this.” 

“Are you still angry?” 

You shook your head. You were as far from angry as you’d ever been.  

“Are you still angry with me?” you countered, swallowing hard. 

“No.” 

A sigh of relief.  

“Tell me, then,” he whispered, his lips moving against yours in anticipation of a kiss. 

“Tell you what?”  

“What you want.” 

And it came out easily. 

“You.” 

* * *  

[alpaca-clouds]

Let's talk about the whole "natural order" thing

Something I have realized is that a ton of people are not quite aware of the context of the one idea that the bad guys within Castlevania: Nocturne keep bringing up again and again: The natural order.

If you watch the show you will find that no episode goes by without a bad guy bringing up that idea every other scene, so let this history nerd quickly explain that concept.

So, this entire idea came from two sources: Enlightenment, and the pre-capitalist, colonialist system.

You need to understand that from the 4th century till the 16th century usually most stuff got explained to people with "because it is God's will". Why is that person poor, and that person rich? Because it is God's will. Why is that guy the king? Because God had made him. Why do we have this war? Because God wants us to.

That does not mean that the people in power actually believed that, but they could get away with everything by having some arch bishop or even the pope agree with them. (I mean, just look at the crusades.)

But then things happened. Gutenberg invented the printing press. Folks read the bible for themselves. People started to get more literate in general. Information about science got wider spread. There was splintering within the church. And people were just not as willing to accept "because God" anymore.

At the same time we had just as bad (if not at times worse) differences in quality of life between rich and poor than in the middle ages. And of course we had the entire colonialism happening, that also included genocide and slavery. And this needed justification. Que: The natural order.

This was just the umbrella under which so much pseudo-science would pressed underneath at the time. A pseudo-scientific explanation for everything that was happening.

Why are some people richer than other? Because they are just naturally more suited to be rich. That is the natural order.

Why do we have a king? Because it is a human need to have one central leader. And that family were always kings. It simply is the natural order of things.

Why do we subjugate the people in America? Because it is just natural for advanced civilizations to subjugate other civilizations. It is actually good for them. It is the natural order.

Why do we enslave Black people? Because they were actually born to be servants. That is their natural state. It is the natural order.

The entire stuff with phrenology and eugenics and all of that came from this specific idea. Of a natural order. Like, racism and all that came from that. Manifest destiny. All of that was connected to this idea of a natural order.

Ironically, while this sprang from the need to take the religion out of the stuff, they then just fitted religion right back in. Making the "church being excempt from everything" also as part of "natural order".

And yes, this is still very much the idea that a lot of conservatism is build around. That there is this pseudo-scientific idea of "this has proofen to work this way before, so it should work like that forever, that is only natural".

Funnily enough those new atheist scientist dudes also LOVE to appeal to the natural order. At times literally. Because they are also really big at conservatism when it comes to women, and keeping cultures apart, and anti-queerness and all of that. And yes, they are gonna appeal to the natural order and it being natural. Somethin that has only been brought up and seen critically recently.

But of course religious conservatives also love to use that, too. Because not all of them have the guts to just keep saying "but God" to defend their position (and sometimes they even know that their stuff directly contradicts the bible). And then they will also go: "But it is natural!"

It is a shitty idea. That is where it came from. It was what a lot of people used to argue against a lot of change that was happening in the 18th and 19th century.

[kaseyskat]

had some thoughts about dood (yes ive settled on that spelling i like it) and missing scenes and stuff anthony would never do because he doesn't like roleplaying with himself and i very hastily wrote them our for your pleasure. enjoy!

~

It happens so fast. 

Sparrow doesn’t even comprehend… everything that is going on. The Doodler talks in a voice that he recognizes from childhood dreams, and the children are talking, and Willy is talking, and then Lark pulls out his gun and is aiming it directly at Normal, and Sparrow is frozen, frozen in place, helpless but to watch and to stare at his twin and shake his head and plead with his eyes and think: this is not how I imagined this fight. 

Once, he had dreamed of this fight. It was glorious, the rendition in his head. The Doodler was a mighty adversary, one who wanted to bring a reign of terror and chaos upon the land, and from a young age, Sparrow knew that he and Lark were the ones destined to rise up, bear their arms in kind, fight the Doodler and win. 

But the Doodler isn’t a mighty adversary here, it’s just… scared, and alone. Is this really what Lark saw when he glimpsed into its mind? 

And Lark still has a gun pointed at Normal. Realistically, Sparrow knows that he’s aiming for the Doodler, because that’s what they’re supposed to do, right? Fight the Doodler and win? It makes sense, and yet it doesn’t, because no version of their fight would result in their family getting hurt. 

But that’s already happened. Our family is already torn to shreds! Sparrow wants to scream, wants to call out, but he is frozen and helpless and can only breathe a sigh of relief when Normal says… something to Lark and Lark puts his gun down. 

He’ll find out what Normal said later. Now, they have a fight to win, and this is one that Sparrow doesn’t feel wordlessly, strangely guilty about. 

And he crumples. And he drags himself back to his feet just in time to watch Willy flash away, leaving only the form of the Doodler that Sparrow has pointedly avoided looking at until now.

It could be a regular teenager, if teenagers morphed in and out of time and space, crackling with static energy. For a second, Sparrow comprehends it – the way the Doodler resembles, vaguely, the form that he had drawn when he was ten and wanted to give shape and dimension to the being that creeped into his dreams and spoke to him in whispered tones – before it shifts, and Sparrow only sees himself. 

Doodler-Sparrow is small, quiet, big eyes staring Sparrow down as their form flickers from cardigans to dresses, hair going blonde and then dark again, eyes flashing green to amber and back to green. It’s dizzying: Sparrow quickly looks away, taking a deep breath even as it continues to look at him, and look at him, and Scary is reading something but it is still staring at him. 

Then, quietly. “Hen?” 

Sparrow inhales. 

It is no secret that he misses his father terribly. Cutting himself off hadn’t been a personal choice: in fact, he still regularly calls his parents, tries making awful smalltalk, incorporates elements of his life that he liked into his own parenting, does his best for Hero and for Normal. And, and it isn’t like Henry is dead! Just… lost. 

That was Sparrow’s fault too, wasn’t it? 

“Hen is my father,” he says quietly, watches as Doodler-Sparrow shifts to look more like a younger version of his father staring at him in horror– in the fear of losing him forever, of having already lost him, or somewhere bitterly in between. “Hello… what did the kids call you? Dood?” 

They nod, taking a step back as Sparrow steps forwards, wary. Arms curl around them, and its form flickers again, right back to the younger version of himself. 

“Dood,” Sparrow repeats, and he snorts, shaking his head. “Alright, Dood. May I ask: do you remember anything of being… with my father? Hen?” 

“I…” the Doodler – Dood, rather – takes another nervous step back, and Sparrow is forced to look down at the shadows they cast against the floors of the church to avoid the headache building behind his eyes. “It’s… hard. But I think you were beautiful.” 

Despite himself, Sparrow smiles. 

“Then I suppose you don’t remember my name,” he says, softly. “But I’m Sparrow. I gave you your name once, a long time ago.” 

“The mascot,” Dood breathes, and they nod slowly. “I… is that my name?” 

“Dood is just fine, I think,” Sparrow smiles, and he offers his hand slowly, the way he would with Hero when she was younger and unwilling to budge on one topic or another. “I know Normal is going to take great care of you, but I want you to know you can rely on me too, okay?” 

He doesn’t know where this came from, except he does, because he just watched his son be held at gunpoint and reflected in Dood’s personage is the person that Sparrow turned away from in favor of what Lark wanted, of what the world needed, and where had it gotten them? His daughter hates him, and his son isn’t far behind. His father withers away and his mother is tired, so tired, and Sparrow has spent a lifetime loving and choosing his brother and it still hadn’t saved him, had it? He can’t force Lark to love himself, no matter how hard he tries, so shouldn’t he choose himself for once? 

Dood didn’t deserve this, and they clearly don’t remember much of what Sparrow had once resented them for. Forgiveness is one of the principles of being a lovewolf, isn’t it? 

“That… sounds nice?” Dood shifts in place, and Sparrow glances back up just in time to catch Himself looking back, tired and haggard and still so small. “I like Normal.” 

Sparrow shifts his gaze. Normal is standing with Scary, gawking at her over… whatever it was she was reading that he’s since tuned out. He’s ditched the mascot suit but still wears the bright blue jersey he’s so fond of, his hair is messy and clearly unwashed, and there’s the smallest wisps of what might be facial hair above his lips, only noticeable when he frowns. 

My son. Sparrow smiles. “Me too.” 

He doesn’t know what might come next, but he thinks his father might be proud of him for once, and maybe that’s enough. Dood takes his hand, and though the static stings and writhes and whispers, Sparrow can only smile to himself and turn to face a world saved by his son and his friends, and maybe finally find the grace to heal his own inner child in the progress. 

[morningstargirl666]

When is The Big Bad Wolf Act 2 coming out?? Are you going to release monthly or all at once?? (I just finished the series and I’m in love 🩷🩷 no rush to write, just wondering if you have an idea because you have loyal readers waiting to love it!!! Have a great day <3)

Hello! Lovely to meet you and thank you so much for reading, that fic is a BEAST. So glad you enjoyed it!

So. When is the next update coming out? [nervous laughter]

Thing is, I told myself now I'm halfway i'll go back and edit, smooth things out before this fic literally becomes too long to tackle and that kinda...turned into a full rewrite?

I'm not changing the plot. That's exactly the same. But my ideas for the lore have changed since I first started writing and I wanted to add in a whole lot more of characterisation and set up for the chapters to come. I rewrote The Little Wolf back in December and recently did some tweaking to chapter 5 of it just this last week (I couldn't work out how to fix it when I first did the rewrite but I had an EPHIPHANY okay). So The Little Wolf is around 35k now, which is a huge difference to the 11k it was in November when I posted chapter 35 of tbbw. It's got tons of new scenes, a sharper forcus on the Mikaelson siblings not just Klaus and two whole new chapters. Of course, you've probably already read that as it is posted and you're a new reader, but that's what I was doing before Christmas, essentially.

As for The Big Bad Wolf itself...boy, where do I start. I'm approaching 85k on the rewrite...only on chapter 7. Which technically used to be chapter 6, because I got 5 chapters in before I added a new chapter. I guess that's a record for my restraint, at least.

So, in terms of what's happening: I'm re-writing tbbw. The plot isn't changing, but new scenes are being added, conversations are being tweaked, the lore is being more consistently fleshed out. Grammar for dialogue is being given a complete overhaul because that was a mess. But. Listen. It's so much better. It's so fucking better. I re-read the chapters I've done and in some places, the drafts aren't quite finished yet, like my writer brain is like fix this later BUT omg it's like, THE shit. It's so good. I've very excited.

I'm not sure how long it will take to finish. I might be able to stop halfway and post the rewritten/edited chapters I've got so far but I make no promises because I feel more inclined to keep going and get it all done in one. Some chapters won't need much work at all as they've been more heavily edited in the past (chapter 8 and 9 should be done pretty quickly, just giving them a facelift), while others I'm really ripping into. There's one chapter I know I'll either delete or delete scenes from to be replaced with something else (don't worry, the scenes will go into my deleted scenes fic on ao3, it's not gone forever).

So yeah. At the rate I'm going, I'm not gonna lie, it may take till the summer before I get all this editing done AND finish the new chapter 36 update - and you may get two new chapters at once, because it might be a long one and I might split it. But by the end of it, tbbw won't be 378k anymore. It'll probably be closer 450k. So you'll get a 50k+ update (along with some bonus stuff) to the whole fic and then a week later I'll post the new chapters (I used to post fornightly, a chapter every two weeks, and I'll go back to that when I'm done).

But yeah. I've written like, 110k since December, which for context is is closing in on the equivalent of the second book of TLOTR trilogy: The Return of the King was 137,115 words. That's an epic novel's worth. In three months.

An arguement could be made that I'm making this fic way too long but I don't really care? I love writing this. It makes my head spin and makes me tear my hair out but...it's so much fun too. And I get to rewrite canon, the way it should have been (we were so ROBBED 😭😭😭), so hey! It's free therapy too! I'm not going to stop as long as I'm loving every second.

Thanks for reading, and thank for listening to my insane plans! Hopefully, I'll see you there on ao3 when this fic is back for business!!

-And it WILL be back.

[brighterdaysarebeforeus]

Miles and Pavitr chat part 2!! Also, you know that feeling you get when you’ve been away from home for a bit and then you finally go back? That’s Miles right now, hahahahaha

@hobiesgender @royallydivinelesbian

Masterlist

Miles was facedown on his bed when the door opened behind him. He almost didn’t want to get up; he had only been gone a week, but that entire week was spent with more physical exercise than Miles had ever had in his life, and at least seven nights of sleeping in awkward places and positions all over the city. His mattress was the most comfortable thing he’d ever laid on in his entire life, and there wasn’t really a lot he was willing to get up for right at that moment.

“I come in peace?” Came the quiet voice, and he turned over quickly for one of the very few (he could not stress that enough, the mattress was so comfortable…) things that could grab his attention right now. Pavitr was standing inside the doorway, looking uncertain as to whether he’d be welcomed in or not, and Miles felt himself smile. As he sat up again, Pavitr smiled more fully and closed the door behind him before taking a running jump onto the bed. He slammed into Miles, laughing at the slightly pained grunt he let out at impact, and Miles was reminded again how long it had been since he’d been able to hang out with Pav. “You didn’t finish telling me about the city, earlier!”

“Pav, you don’t even know!” Miles sat up quickly, beaming at his friend. “It was great, honestly it was. I ran into Hobie and his group like, almost right away. I was practically set, put in the city, man.”

“So Hobie is a person?” Pavitr asked, and Miles lit up.

“Yeah, Hobie’s a person, he’s a really cool guy!” He said. Pavitr lifted an eyebrow at him, and Miles missed the warning sign as he barreled on. “He runs this group of, like, kids and stuff? There were two kids, younger ones I mean, Peni and Ham. And there was Gwen and Margo, too, and they just, like, roamed the city and stuff?”

“Roamed the city?”

“Yeah, but in a helpful way?” Miles frowned as he thought of how to explain to Pavitr without going into the more…illegal things he’d noticed them all doing while he was with them. He wasn’t entirely sure what had happened to Hobie, yet, or how the group was supposed to work now that he’d been taken into custody by Miguel. “Like, Hobie would have us divide and conquer the marketplace, and we’d pick up groceries for the elderly in the city. And he had us volunteer in shifts at a food bank!”

“What’s a food bank?” Pavitr asked, and Miles couldn’t help himself; he delved into the whole adventure, starting from when he left (though being careful not to mention how he’d made it out of the castle in the first place) and segueing into his week with the whole group. He even told Pavitr about the close call they’d had with the guards, when they’d had to split up because they’d almost gotten caught squatting in an abandon apartment complex, and he’d gotten stuck following Gwen and Peni over rooftops.

“That shit was scary, though,” he told Pavitr, who was staring at him with wide eyes, “but only because some of those buildings are so tall! And, like, Gwen and Peni had absolutely no qualms about it. I couldn’t get shown up by a twelve year old!”

“But across the roof?”

“I know!” Miles laughed. “But like, Hobie took forever to get back to their base, and like halfway through I started getting worried, cause like, what if he’d gotten caught then, you know? It was wild, man.”

“You really liked this guy, huh?” Pavitr asked softly, and Miles groaned as he covered his face in his hands. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard you talk so much about someone before, Miles. You spent a whole week with one guy and you suddenly can’t stop talking about him?”

“There were other people there too!” Miles protested. Pavitr shrugged playfully, shaking his head to contradict Miles. “Didn’t you hear about Margo? Or Gwen? C’mon, man, I just finished telling you about a whole chase scene with Gwen and Peni, I’ve talked about the rest of the group!”

“Not as much as you’ve talked about Hobie.” Pavitr sang his name out teasingly, and Miles groaned even louder. He fell back against the bed again, covering his face with his hands while Pavitr laughed good-naturedly at him. “Come on, Miles. There were, like, eight people here, at the palace, for almost three weeks specifically to appeal to you for marriage, and absolutely none of them got you going on and on about them. You even ran away to get a moment’s peace!”

“That wasn’t exactly — ”

“And then!” Pavitr said loudly, as if to cover Miles’s attempt at defending himself with his own words. “And then! You come back, and your focus is not on meeting with your parents to discuss what you saw, no! You don’t want to talk about how you got out of the castle, or what you saw in the city, why would you? Your one and only trip out into the general population on your own, and you don’t even want to take two minutes to assure your best friend that you’re ok!” Miles protested that, sitting up so quickly a bone popped in his lower back, but Pavitr was on a roll; there was no stopping him. “Nope, your focus is on making sure that everything turned out ok for Hobie!” There was a pause, finally, as Pavitr took a breath and Miles stared at him.

“Are you done?” He asked, and Pavitr snorted. Miles did the same, the both of them collapsing into giggles together. “Like, was that it? Are you finished now? Got it all out of your system?”

“Shut up!” Pavitr whined, smacking him gently. “I’m just saying.” Their giggles died down, and they sat in silence for a moment before a though occurred to Miles.

“Do you think he’s mad at me?” He asked, and Pavitr hummed questioningly. “Hobie.” Pavitr rolled his eyes so hard that his head followed through with the motion, mouthing Hobie’s name as mockingly as he could; Miles ignored him completely to stare at the ceiling, brows furrowed in concern. “Do you think he’s mad, because I lied?”

“Did you lie though?” Pavitr asked. He titled his head back and forth as he thought about it, lips pursed together. Miles watched him from where he started laying down again, waiting for him to come to a verdict. “You just didn’t tell him you were royalty, right? Does that count as a lie?”

“I mean, I guess?” Miles shrugged. “Lie by omission, maybe. But, I mean, I did, sort of, maybe, possibly tell him my name was, uh…” he trailed off, rubbing the back of his head and avoiding Pavitr’s intense look as he muttered, “I may have told him my name was Michael.”

“Oh, then yeah, probably.” Pavitr said. “He’s probably mad. Sorry, Miles.” Miles sighed and closed his eyes, dropping his head against the mattress.

He hoped, that if he saw Hobie again, he wouldn’t be too mad at him.

[acourtofthought]

Someone on Twitter said "Your ship inherently sucks when you have to mischaracterize both characters for it to work" and I couldn't agree more.

It's all fun to headcanon that Elain is a spy, dark etc. But to say It's canon and will happen... 💀

Reading the books, I never felt like Elain could become dark in some ways. Elain had changed since acomaf and she's become quiter, but to me it seems like it's because of where she currently is and with who she's living with. People around her constantly underestimate her and everyone talks to her like she's fragile or a kid. No one in the IC talks to her like they talk to Feyre, or Nesta. Cassian mentioned that he doesn't hang around with Elain, Feyre also thought she doesn't hang out with her like she does with Mor and Amren and she wouldn't go to her to talk about her problems. Rhys may be right, but he's also just assuming "Elain is Elain". Azriel, her suppose love of her life, didn't really talk or hang out with her in more than 2 years. He himself said that she doesn't know anything about him and what he does. I don't even have to talk about Nesta and how she coddles her a lot but the worst of all is that even when Elain herself had stabbed the King of Hybern, tried to help a lot during the war, stood up for herself to Nesta infront of everyone, insisted on going to the court of nightmares when she didn't have to etc. The IC still won't see her as more than a pretty face. Look at how quickly they dropped Elain as soon as Nesta declared she will do the scrying, even though she told them to come get her when they wish to begin. There was no scene or any mentionings of at least one of them, at least the love of her life, telling her that Nesta will do the Job, apologize and invite her to watch. Elain wasn't there they did the scyring thing. Elain wasn't there in the crossover (Mor was not there either but it's most likely because she's still in that continent). They never include her in anything, but they much rather include Nesta. I thought Elain was a part of the IC? It sure as hell doesn't look like it. We have no insights on Elain's friendship with N&C either.

So excuse me if I don't believe that Elain will stay in that rotten court forever when all they let her do is stay pretty, plant flowers and bake bread. They might start seeing more in her and accept her just like they did with Nesta, but Nesta doesn't stay with the IC like she stays with her own found family.

Elain tries way too hard and so I seriously hate the theory that "she will proof to them" "she'll show them" becaus why should she? Why can't they accept her as who she is, why should she be the one to change to be a part of the court? To change so her and Azriel compliment each other? Nesta didn't change or proof anything to the IC either, Feyre went from SC to NC because she thrives in the dark, even though she tried so hard to fit in the SC.. it should be the same for Elain. She shouldn't lift a sword/dagger, throw her comfortability out the window and wear dark dresses/suits and say some badass/ dark stuff when that is not who she is.

If Elain needs to become dark and Azriel needs to become lighter like the sun then that ship ain't working. We have Elucien were Elain can stay as who she is and Lucien can stay the bright sun that he is. We have the BOE where neither Vassa nor Jurian know anything about Elain and both of them seem to be type to not coodle anyone. Lucien also does not know much about her since they barely talk and he barely visits. I think the BOE is a good fresh start for Elain.

Allllllll the things you said!

Elain is in the NC basically serving Rhys and Feyre. Not that they force it upon her of course but she cooks for them, bakes for them, and takes care of their garden. They all like her but no one actively seeks her out as their main person. She's pleasant and not a bother and helpful when it comes to housework but she's not made part of their important business meetings and they always prefer someone else to handle the "dangerous stuff". She's not turned away but she's also not the person they would ever go to first. That's just plain depressing if you're Elain and exactly why Elucien's can't wait for her to go find her place elsewhere in Prythian. She can be the "last resort" in the NC or the "go to" person somewhere else.

If she were to stay in the NC, she would have to change who she is. She would need to become darker, enjoy taking part in their revenge schemes, be willing to hear about who they torture. Just because Elain is there and surrounded by all that stuff now doesn't mean she's truly fine with it. Cassian pretty much tells us she's not. The fact that she didn't want to wear Illyrian leathers or take a weapon in the first place (then immediately gave it back) tells us she's not. She loves her sisters so of course she's going to be accepting of them and their lives but that doesn't mean it's really what she wants for herself. She's testing out a life in the NC because that's where she ended up by default but that doesn't mean she'll decide it's really where she wants to stay after we get her book.

And no that doesn't mean Elain can't do what needs done, just as Rhys and Amren said, but there are many ways of accomplishing that and the way the IC does things is different than the way a lot of other courts do things.

E/riels try to make Az way less dark than he is. You know, SJM could have made Rhys absolutely perfect after he and Feyre got together but he can still act like an asshole to others at times. He's still a bit sneaky with making plans and not telling the others because he doesn't want anyone else to worry. He's still morally gray regardless of finding his Mate and he still struggles with forgiveness. So why exactly do people think Az is going to be a different character by the end of things? Of course he'll overcome his feelings of worthlessness and probably make progress with how he views the Illyrians but he's not suddenly going to be a big old softie outside of his relationship. Just like Rhys still has rage, Az isn't going to lose his rage. He's even darker than Rhys and I doubt SJM wants to give him a personality transplant just so he's a better match for Elain, that's not her style. It doesn't matter that he's "soft and gentle" with Elain because he's still someone different away from her and that's never going to be a match for who she is (whereas Lucien was already well matched with who Elain is even before they had met).

Really, Cassian would have wanted Nesta even as she was at the start of SF. Even at her worst, he would have wanted her. The same can be said of Rhys and Feyre. Even when they saw the darkest parts of one another they still fell in love. The fact that Az already hides who he is from Elain is all the proof we need to know that they will never end up in anything lasting and SJM has said time and again she doesn't want to change who a character is in order to be with someone else.

Edit: forgot to add this but I love the part where you mentioned you dislike the narrative that Elain needs to "show them all". Not only do I agree that she doesn't have to become someone drastically different but also because that makes it sound like she's developed hatred towards them and wants to stick it to them. Elain's arc can be for Elain and Elain alone. Her motivation doesn't need to be proving that her sister's were wrong about her because that just breeds additional animosity between them and I think we've had enough of that.

[skekilla]

https://www.deviantart.com/skekilla/art/Runaway-Train-Act-I-Scene-5-894445942

Gosh, did this train go on forever?

It seemed like Johnny had been walking for… what, fifteen, twenty minutes? At this point he was starting to wonder if he’d lost Sally somehow. Sure, he knew he was a little slower than her, but he couldn’t be this far behind, could he? After about two cars in, he couldn’t even see the grumpy singer storming through the doors into the next one. He tried to run to catch up at first, but the chaffing of his plastic prosthetics on his skin was just too much. So unfortunately, he’d ended up having to go at a snail’s pace through the dozens of train cars trying to find her. Passenger cars, a lounge, a few libraries, sleeping cars, he passed them all with no luck. She couldn’t have turned around—Johnny would have seen her—and she probably hadn’t stuck around in one of them—he’d made sure to look over the places as thoroughly as he could—so he couldn’t think of anything else to do but keep going. There just wasn’t any way she couldn’t be up ahead… right?

He slid yet another door open, pressing on as best he could in spite of his growing doubt. Unexpectedly, a burst of damp, fragrant air hit him. He peeked inside, fascinated to see giant trees lining the walls in the place of seats. Mosses carpeted the floor like haphazardly thrown rugs, and ferns sprung up from them like fancy vases. What in the… Johnny looked to the ceiling in wonder (surely the trees couldn’t have grown in such a crowded space as the other cars, he thought) but saw to his amazement that he couldn’t find one, only a misty expanse and lush green leaves. The whole place was shrouded in mist, in fact, as if lilac twilight had settled over just this one car.

“No way…” Johnny muttered to himself as he treaded gingerly on the overgrown floor. This can’t be real. This is… ridiculous. Like something out of Wonderland. Maybe he really was going nuts. First a weird train full of demonic creatures shows up in the middle of the street, next there’s a forest growing in that train. He shook himself. Keep focused! This whole mess is pretty dense; maybe Sally was slowed down by it. This could be his chance to catch up. Now was the time to hurry more than ever. Besides, if I’m really going round the bend I’ll have time to deal with that later, he thought grimly. And so, he set himself to wading through the verdant sea.

His boots gripped the moist ground easily. Unluckily, his jolting step didn’t take so naturally to the terrain. To make matters even worse, as he went further into the woods, the greenery got denser and denser. He was practically slowed down to a shuffle. At this rate, I’ll never get through this stuff... Doubt crept back over his optimism. What if he never did get through here? What if it was just endless? Had he ever really been on a train in the first place? Had he just been lost in these misty, dusk-lit woods the whole time?

Then suddenly, through the fog and brush, Johnny made out a figure. The long coat and curly hair made her instantly recognizable: Sally! Stumbling over roots and leaves, he finally caught up to her. “Sally! Oh, thank god-”

“Shhh!” To his surprise, she didn’t snark or even say hello to him. Instead, she shoved him back.

“What- what’s going on?” Secondhand panic rose in him. He searched her face for answers, but she was firmly distracted with something else. She shushed him again. What’s happening? What’s with all this fuss? But as his eyes followed Sally’s, he quickly figured out just what it was.

A small clearing in the forest was before them, silver with light. That seemed odd enough, seeing how dense this forest had been so far, but, of course, that wasn’t everything. In it was a man—rugged coat on his broad shoulders, big hat tipped down over his face, and big in build—slumped against the trunk of a tree. A sturdy shovel rested next to him, the kind used for real tough work. The obvious assumption was that he was asleep, but… the way his head hung limply, the utter stillness of him, the tattered edges of his garments… “Is… he dead?” Johnny whispered.

“I don’t know!” Sally snapped. “And I don’t want to find out. Now shush!”

Johnny jumped at her tone, easily silenced by her sharp words. His anxiety still ran wild, but something else joined it: pity. This poor man… He wasn’t really surprised someone’d died here—he would surely be dead himself if it weren’t for Sally, after all—but that didn’t stop his heartstrings from being tugged. There was nothing they could have done though, Johnny figured. From the old style of his clothes, he must’ve been here for some time… though I guess the year doesn’t really seem to matter that much here, he reminded himself. Maybe we could have done something… if only we’d been here sooner…

And then suddenly, he saw it. A dark presence loomed over the man, taking shape before Johnny’s very eyes. In substance, it looked similar to the smaller demons and the trolley imps; in stature, though, it was worlds away from the little horned things that had swarmed the halls. It dwarfed the huge man, hanging suspended from the tree’s boughs, huge clawed hands reaching down to him. Johnny’s breathing quickened as they neared him. No. Oh god, don’t hurt him. If the man really was dead, it wouldn’t matter. But what if he was alive? Johnny’s inaction could mean a painful, brutal end for him. His heartbeat went doubletime. It would be all his fault. All his fault he didn’t save him. I can’t save anybody. Memories of his fellow soldiers falling around him, running in vain from machine gun shots, trampled by tanks and sinking with ships—all flooded his mind in a tsunami of guilt. He couldn’t have done anything. Now I can. I have to!

His already thumping pulse took off, a rocket of adrenaline sending him darting into the clearing. By the time he had gotten to the man and grabbed the shovel from the floor, a cloud of fear as thick as the fog around him finally settled over his mind. Oh my god, what am I doing!? The pounding of his heart was deafening as the spirit settled its terrible eyes on him. He couldn’t stop shaking. And then suddenly, pure instinct took over: his grip on the shovel tightened and, in one swift motion, he hit the creature right in its shadowy head.

An ear-splitting scream shattered the fragile silence about the air, erupting from the thing like lightning from a storm. Thunder soon followed though; its screech became a roar, shaking the leaves above them. This thing was clearly a force to be reckoned with. And now Johnny had made it angry. “Oh god,” Johnny whispered to himself. It raised its horrible claws to strike him, but he was simply too overcome by fear to move a muscle. All it took was one swoop to send him careening against an overgrown nearby wall, the shovel falling from his hands as he did. He cried in pain, whimpering as he sank down to the floor. His now tear-filled eyes fixed on the demon in terror. This was it; there was no way he could escape now. It stalked closer and closer to him, anger flashing in its burning eyes. In the corner of his vision, he could see Sally running to help him, but she would surely be too late. He was practically in the talons of that thing already. It's going to kill me! God, please, I don’t want to die! Not here!

Thwack!

Suddenly, the demon’s head kicked to the side, another scream sounding from it as it flailed around. What…? And then he saw it. It was the man with the raggedy clothes, standing strong and wielding the shovel like a knight wielding his sword, a grim smile on his weathered face. Johnny’s jaw hung open in shock. This man certainly was not dead. In fact, now it seemed he’d be the one keeping them alive.

“Come on, let’s go!” Sally hissed to Johnny as she finally reached him.

“W-what about-”

She was already propping him up. “He’s fairing fine on his own. Let’s get a move on while we can!” In all fairness, she was right; this man was a tank against the demon, shredding through it and showing no sign of stopping. Johnny whimpered a weak protest, but he couldn’t deny that running now was clearly the best thing to do. He finally gave in, stumbling away with Sally. But just as they slipped away into the ferns and mist, he caught one last glimpse of that strange man. To his surprise, his eyes met his own. The cold fire of retribution in them sent a chill down his spine, and it was all made very clear to Johnny in that moment; this man had been here for ages. And if he hadn’t been able to get out yet, why, this train ride may indeed be endless.

[surrealsunday]

SO I FINALLY CAUGHT UP THR LAST THREE CHAPTERS AND WOW- so much to say ngl and kinda glad you split chap6-7 in two, very grateful for that :))). okay so little rambling time ahah

• chapter 5: what a rollercoaster on its own holy shit! it went from weird vibe, flirting to quickly escalate to an argument and then to sth very intense with the last scene 😏 but as always i really loved it! the first scene with basile and eliott’s interaction made me smile ngl, like i said earlier their dynamic would have been so worth showing in the show 👌🏻 also the flirting part when eliott is just staring at lucas’ face and blushing when he notices 🥺 my baby 🥺and that line im so obsessed and soft pls “no need when Lucas is sitting in the sun looking like that - like a fallen angel. Fallen perhaps because no one who looks that sinfully good could ever remain untouched in heaven.”

oh yeah also idriss with manon…seriously one of my fav thing💗 elu’s hug at the end with the “it can wait” warmed my heart, i smiled like an idiot sjsbsb

• chapter 6: probably one of my fav chapter! i love how they’re already so gone for eo (literally), their teasing is exquisite every time omg i love them sm 🤌🏻 also the moment when lucas explained the thing with ch*rles…i never wanted to punch someone that hard in the face, seriously sbsjdbd i kept repeating “wanna slap him omg i so wanna slap him”, and then eliott saying “i will kill him”, like same bestie!! 😭 also idk if it’s just me but you can already see that kind of domesticity between them, like it’s as if they’ve been tgt for years dbdjdb

• chapter 7: again. the rollercoaster that chapter was! eliott wanting to look nice for lucas 🥺 lucas taking the initiative to hold hands with eliott and saying “i feel safe with you” I DIED OF CUTENESS PLS. also basike drunk is so fucking funny LMAOO, he’s such a mood here 🤣

plus, that moment where eliott learns lucas wants to move out from his fam house and he already can see them living their little cosy life tgt doing domestic stuff, my heart just explode he loves him so much 🥺 they’re gonna be the death of me, in every universe istg 😭

the fact i already knew what was coming but still- it was hard, very hard 🥲 like i couldn’t stop nervously laugh knowing what’s gonna happen. but then even that “sack of shit” said those words omg 😭 i imagined the look of lucas’ face, how he was feeling,…i felt so fucking bad and wanted to hug him forever🤧 i literally screamed and insult him even more, then queen daphy bite the crap out of him 😌 and then again, u broke me with “i hate u more”

little summary of my mood throughout this chapter:

they better figure everything out quick or imma jump into this story and lock them in a room to have a proper talk lmaoo. no but seriously i know they’re gonna be okay but still this moment is tough, but worth it 😌

anyways, i hope you’ll have a nice nye’s celebration and wish you the best for this new year! (also never more looked forward to get the new update than now ngl, i kinda feel hollow now 🧍🏼‍♀️🤣)

HAPPY NEW YEAR! 🥳💗

Omg adlkfjasdlkfj your reactions and memes are just the actual best and I'm dying 😂😂😂❤️️❤️️❤️️.

The line you pulled out of chapter 5 (Lucas as a fallen angel), literally how accurate tho? Eliott was so right for that.

I love how much so many people loved chapter 6 ☺️! I didn't really have a fave chapter in this fic but peoples reactions to that one made me appreciate it so much more. And wanting to punch Charles... very much a mood. I was forever grateful that him getting punched was something that actually happens in the movie. I was happy to stay true to that. I also agree that they settle very quickly into comfortable domestic vibes. That's definitely the point. That instant comfort that comes from being around the right person. It's the same vibe in the next chapter when Eliott is immediately imagining them living together. He's right that it's a little ridiculous to be thinking about something like that when he and Lucas are still so new, but when it's the right person, it's the right person. And there's really no timeline when that's the case.

Lucas deserves all the hugs though, it is true. Poor bub is definitely going through it 🥺. Let himself fall for the 'cool hot guy' again and got so much more badly hurt. Lucas's last line though... ngl... I love it 😌. Truly a fave for me.

Your moodboard throughout the chapter tho 😂😂😂. Yeah that seems about right. Exactly what I was looking to evoke too. The 'laughing nervously' one makes me seriously lol.

Thank you so much for sending your thoughts! I love love love reading what you were thinking!!!

I hope you have a lovely New Year's as well! I will be doing nothing (which is how I like it) aside from maybe a fun makeup look for nobody but my cat. I really do need to work on the next chapter tho so that is the goal for the next couple days!

Happy New Year to you too! 🥳💗💗💗💗

[crmsnmth]

September Sky Chapter Five, Part 9

"For you, yeah, alright. I'll take it." Conner was there for the worst. Right after Emily and I's relationship finally died and I had to reset. I had to reset when I was beyond broken. Thank god for friends. I don't think I would've survived the whole thing without the few who stayed and helped pick up the pieces.

Kayla suddenly stood up and grabbed Conner by the arm. "I want to dance," she said as she dragged Conner off and out into the pulsing crowd. I was forgotten as soon as he looked at Kayla. It used to get kind of sickenning, the way these two were.

"Did you want to dance, too?" I meekly asked Addison. Dancing was never my thing. I never know what to do, so I just sway. That's the only dancing I know. Works well here, where the music suits it. Everywhere else? Not so much. Inside, I hoped she would say no. But if she did, I guess I was heading for a crowd of people and not knowing what to do about it.

"Maybe in a bit," she said, turning towards me. I sighed audibly. "You look kind of tense."

"Not my scene, you know. I'll loosen. Once I get used to my surroundings and the amount of people, I'll be normal." I said.

"Normal?"

"Yeah. Not so awkward, tense and weird."

"You put yourself down a lot."

"Do I?"

Addison nodded and took another sip of her whiskey coke.

"You do. And you shouldn't. We need to work on that self-esteem, Chris," she said, a sparkle in her eye, a soft shove on my shoulder.

"I guess I never noticed."

"I'm breaking the friendship clause, once again for pure curiosity. Chad said you weren't always so quiet. He said you have a nickname in Oconomowoc. Crazy Chris?" She said, holding back a laugh and giving me an inquisitive look. Even I had to laugh.

"Yeah, I was a loud and obnoxious punk kid. No fear. No cares. I did a lot of crazy stunts, and stupid shit. Hence, Crazy Chris. The nickname and the legend stuck. It's how I'll forever be known by the citizens of that terrorized city. I'm not so sure how I feel about you getting all this information from Chad." I smirked at her. Chad may not think what I find embarrassing is embarrassing. I know he wouldn't talk shit, but I knew some of the stories we have are better left in the past.

"Does it really bother you?" She asked, her tone becoming serious quickly.

"No, not at all. He can tell you all of the stunts and stuff. I can just sit back and try not to cringe too much."

"I am curious."

"There's plenty of damn good reasons I earned that nickname."

"What happened? It's hard to picture anything but this quiet guy." She asked the question I didn't really want to get into, but eventually this stuff comes up.

"I let myself get into a very toxic and abusive relationship, that woke up a whole set of new chemical problems in my head," I said, hoping that one sentence would be enough. At least for now.

Addison looked at me, smiling warmly. Her eyes looked to be studying my face. It was kind of weird, but I wasn't going to turn away.

"Come on, let's go join your friends." She hopped off her stool and took my hand, the other carrying my drink. As much as I dreaded that dance floor, I was in a strange way thrilled to be out on it, surrounded by strangers, with her.

'Temple of Love' by Sisters of Mercy was playing as we headed into the crowd to find where Kayla and Conner were moving. Soon all of us were, and even I was doing my little sway. It fit in this crowd. The songs continued one after another and continued our movements, letting the music take control for a little while.

My eyes never left Addison while we stood on that floor. She moved like liquid, and it was impossible to look away. Not that I ever tried to. As she spun and dance, I could swear that I had never seen anything so beautiful in my life. I was entranced again. I couldn't understand why she had any interest in me. I had to be one of the luckiest people alive. For sure in that room.

* * * *

[velvet-games]

apparently this is a hot take according to some people I know irl, but I'm wondering if people around here also think so?

I think something being temporary doesn't delegitimize it at all. even if it's silly, even if you cringe at it later, if it's important to you now, it's important to you now. that's why I hate the "it's a phase" phrase because for me, the response to that is not "no it's not a phase; I'm going to like it to adulthood;" the response should be "it doesn't matter if I don't like it later; it's important to me now and I only exist as the person I am now." (to be clear, people pretending they can predict the future about whether you will/won't be something in the future is bad and annoying in its own right) sorry this is kind of abstract so I'll try to explain it as best I can ...

I remember a teacher talking to me about how he likes the saying "this too shall pass," whereas I'm trying to get OUT of that mindset. the problem is that "this too shall pass" applies to literally everything. I don't think this was the original intention of the saying, but the subtext is that you shouldn't worry about what's happening now because it won't be forever; essentially, it doesn't matter if it doesn't last.

but isn't that literally everything? I get nervous whenever I'm happy because I remember that yes, this is probably temporary, and if history's anything to go by, it will be gone very quickly. but like, so is your entire life. so is the earth, the solar system. don't these things matter, not because they're permanent, but because they're your whole world in certain moments? when you're a teen and you're into a cringey show that you grow out of later, that's still a show that's your entire world (and might save your life!) in that time period.

I was pretty sensitive as a kid (still am, just better at hiding it/bottling stuff up), and I remember having genuinely scarring feelings and thoughts belittled constantly. and emotionally, you don't start thinking that that should stop applying when you're older. when I was a kid, all of my ideas and feelings were stupid because I was young and people thought I was a girl and I had normal childish interests. but even as I've become an adult, I haven't let go of the mindset of "everything I do and say and like is stupid and I need to defend them constantly or not mention them at all." it's definitely gotten better now that people have given me external cues that I can be taken seriously, but why wasn't I taken seriously before? I remember watching this movie about a monster eating a child and replaying that scene (and thus the fear that came with it) over and over for months. it's kind of silly in retrospect, but I think the stuff that I would have that exact emotional response to now would be taken much more seriously. when I was a kid scaring myself with that scene, was my fear not real? was I not in pain? was that not important to me at the time? why did it not matter just because other people stopped being able to relate to it?

I just wish we had a more gentle attitude about some of these things, especially when it comes to things young people don't have control over. I remember having a really aggressive attitude about diet/weight loss culture right after I started ED recovery, and as dumb as some of that was, it was necessary and legitimate. if I could talk to someone in a similar position, I wouldn't chastise them and tell them they're being naive and that it'll pass; I would say, "I see you; you're in a lot of pain right now, and you need to be feeling these emotions. I remember what that felt like. it might not last forever, but it's important that you process and validate them now anyway." obviously that understanding doesn't go as far as excusing harm, but I really don't think that even applies to most of the stuff we cringe at teens for (no, designing a sparkledog OC is not killing anyone).

your past self wasn't a rough draft on a piece of paper that just became human yesterday. they were a full person with actual emotions in full effect on them. they're gone now, and other young people won't be young forever either, but they're still people right now.

[nickitxrres]

Name: Nicki Torres Age: 46 Community Job: Raider Job Before: Street Racer & Exotic Dancer Reside in: Old garage near Community Center How long have they lived in Redwood?: 1 years Family: None Status: Open relationship with Ares Melania Faceclaim: Zoe Saldana

Biography:

Nicole Torres, although she refuses to be called Nicole as she much prefers Nicki, was born in the Dominican Republic and lived there for the first few years of her life, although she doesn’t remember much of it. Her parents moved her to New York when she was four to have a better life. Her father opened up a little grocery shop in the Bronx while her mother worked as a maid, cleaning for a bunch of rich families in the city. Nicki would often help out at her father’s shop growing up but honestly, she found it really, really boring. What she loved were cars. Her father had gotten his hands on a 69 Camaro that he was restoring and Nicki worked with him a lot on restoring the vehicle. At her dad’s store she would often have the latest vehicle magazine behind the counter to read while she was working. When she grew up she wanted to collect cars and have her own shop where she would upgrade cars to make them better. When she was sixteen, her dad gave her the keys to the Camaro and she couldn’t have asked for a better birthday present.

With her new wheels Nicki wanted to show off her ride and very quickly joined the street racing scene. The money was good, especially when she won, which was very, very often. Nicki enjoyed when she got to crush the boys as they thought they were automatically better drivers than her because she was young and a woman. The look on their faces when she collected their money - priceless. Unfortunately during one of the races, the cops were called and Nicki was arrested for illegal street racing and fleeing the scene. She was placed on probation and mandatory community service for six months and her poor Camaro was stuck in the garage. And while she couldn’t drive it, she did buy some new parts for her baby and upgraded her. As soon as she could, she was going to take her baby out on the road again. She wanted to go on a cross-country road trip and nothing was going to stop her.

But first thing’s first - she needed cash. She worked at her dad’s shop for as long as she could but eventually she knew it wasn’t going to be enough. She spent a few more years traveling around New York, racing again for cash. One night while he was out racing, her father’s store was hit and robbed. The robbers had shot and killed her father when he tried to use his shotgun on them and then shot her mom when she stopped by to bring him dinner. Nicki was devastated and, unable to handle the loss of both of her parents, she moved to Philly.

Nicki remained on the racing scene but it wasn’t as big as it was in New York so she started exotic dancing. The money was very, very good and honestly, she enjoyed it. Once again she was tricking men and taking their money. What better way was there to earn money? However, the more she found how much she loved dancing and racing in her new home, the longer she put off her cross country road trip. After all, the more money she made, the better her trip. That and she had all the time in the world…

At least, until the outbreak happened. It was one of her nights off from the club but she was out street racing. They were just getting ready to start the race when a group of zombies started eating the crowd. Nicki, not sure what to do, sped off towards her little apartment and turned on the news. She couldn’t believe it - a zombie apocalypse? She only thought shit like that happened in the movies. She decided to pack up her stuff and drive out of Pennsylvania, thinking if she got out of the Northeast that she could escape it and let the government contain it.

That was years ago. After driving for what seemed like forever, she unfortunately ran out of gas and with no gas station having any fuel for her to fill up, she had to abandon her baby and head out on foot. Eventually she came across Redwood, the town not being far from where she left her car. She was glad to find a place that seemed relatively normal and hopes that one day this virus will be gone and she can save her baby and take that road trip.

Headcanons:

Nicki joined the raiders for a couple of reasons - one, she felt like it was too much of a boys’ club and she enjoys showing men up. And two - it allows her to go check on her baby and make sure that no one else has found it and moved it. If anything happens to that car she will bash someone’s head in.

Nicki danced at the same club as Mayra and the two had been friends. She was glad to find her here in Redwood and have a close friend, given the end of the world was quite literally upon them.

She has a full sleeve of tattoos and bracelets and rings that she had made from old car parts and small tools like lug nuts and coils. She even has a pair of earrings that have blunted nails on them. She likes little trinkets and collectibles like that.

Before coming to Redwood, Nicki had been a part of Zack's Wolves right before they were killed and captured by the Daybreakers. Nicki had been there for about a month before she managed to escape, although she won't really talk about what happened. The failure of that still haunts her and she's bound and determined to make sure that if that happens again, she won't lose.

[paradisetemporarilymisplaced]

So I was being a basic bitch the other day and listening to my true crime podcasts when it occurred to me just how suspicious Nile’s “death” would look to everyone not in the Guard, leading me to a train of thought that, 2200 words later, absolutely got away from me but I can’t let go so I’m inflicting it on all of you!

To set the stage, we know the movie takes place over approximately a week. Here’s what happens to Nile from the military’s point of view:

She dies is very seriously injured

She heals without a scratch

Just before she’s supposed to be shipped out to Germany, she vanishes, leaving two men concussed (and presumably reporting being knocked out by a woman with short hair wearing civilian clothes)

She goes AWOL for several days

They get word from the CIA that she is to be reported killed in action (details unclear)

So, at the beginning of this very weird week, the USMC has to tell Nile’s family of her death critical injury. What her family was told depends on how long she was dead – a Google search tells me that family will be notified in person within 8 hours of a soldier’s death, but we don’t know how long her first death lasted. For an injury, however, they’d get a phone call to notify them and the unit would arrange for them to visit as soon as the soldier is transferred out of a combat zone. Like I remember when I was in high school, a guy from my church who was a Marine was really seriously injured in a helicopter crash in Iraq and from what I could tell, his parents were told immediately and were flown out to Germany to see him, so it stands to reason that Nile’s family would have been informed relatively quickly after her throat was slashed, one way or another.

And then, she goes AWOL. Her family would be notified while the USMC tried to figure out where she went, not least because the military would want to know if she’s contacted them. (And it’s possible that her family may have been on the way to Germany to see her since we know that’s where she was supposed to go!) So for several days:

Nile’s mom and brother have no idea where she is

They know she was seriously injured and most certainly should not have been moving around on her own

They can’t get a hold of her

The military can’t tell them anything

And the next thing they know for sure is that she was “killed in action.” After being injured and vanishing into thin air. And they presumably cannot produce her body or any concrete evidence of her death. In any case, something sketchy is going on, so they’re like. SMELLS LIKE A MILITARY COVERUP.

In a surprise to probably no one, there is a well-documented legacy of mysterious US military deaths, particularly of women of color (TW for sexual assault in these links). The cases of LaVena Johnson and Vanessa Guillenin particular have made national news because of their families’ persistence in seeking justice. Likewise, Nile is a Black woman, and her mom and brother are most certainly hypercognizant of (a) state violence against Black people and (b) these high-profile cases of suspicious military deaths. So her family are seriously side-eyeing the situation, knowing that (a) the military has a serious incentive (and a documented history) of covering up things that make them look bad and (b) nothing about Nile’s disappearance and supposed death are adding up.

And Andy’s right. Nile does come from warriors. And you know who else does? Her brother.

Don’t get me wrong. Nile’s mom would absolutely not back down. She’d know something was up and want to get to the bottom of it. But based on what I know about Gen X parents (mine), they’re not the most technologically savvy. Like they can use the internet, but they didn’t grow up with it the way we young millennials and Gen Z did. So Nile’s brother takes the lead. And what do zillennials do best?

Social media.

Nile’s brother starts going hard on any site he can, trying to get the word out to see if anyone knows what happened to his sister. He starts a Reddit thread. He starts a Facebook group. He reaches out to the media and true crime bloggers and podcasters à la Sarah Turney, getting loud and being a general nuisance in hopes of getting some answers. He gets his friends and Nile’s friends involved. Maybe eventually Dizzy, Jay, and others from Nile’s unit hear about it and reach out, telling him what they saw and how weird it all was. He’s drumming up interest, and soon “Nile Freeman” becomes a household name (at least among the true crime fans).

Copley is, of course, trying his best, but at this point there is just so much that it’s impossible for him to scrub everything. Sure, he can erase new footage of Nile and the Guard, but what can he do about Reddit threads and podcast episodes that are speculating something weird has happened? Maybe he could hack the sites and shut those things down, but honestly, that’s the last thing he’d want to do, because that only adds weight to the theory that Nile’s disappearance is a military coverup. So eventually he has to tell Andy what’s going on.

Andy, obviously, does not take the news well. However, she is also completely computer illiterate, because that’s Booker’s job and he’s the only one who ever bothered to learn what the internet is in any meaningful way. (She probably calls Booker for advice, and for the record, I think Booker would have no qualms about shutting down conspiracy threads, tinhats be damned, but Copley is too concerned about the consequences. He’s ex-CIA for crying out loud, he knows how it’ll look if they scrub every mention of Nile’s name from the internet.) Maybe she confers with Joe and Nicky but, let’s be honest, they’d be equally unhelpful. So at this point, she knows they have to bring in Nile.

But the thing about Nile is that she, too, knows how to use the internet (duh). Aside from her being a young millennial/digital native, we know from the cave scene where she’s giving Booker suggestions on how to track Copley that she clearly is even more computer savvy than the average person. And for that reason she almost definitely took over the day-to-day tech stuff after Booker’s exile. So I think it would be foolish to expect her to be unaware of what’s happening. She’s not contacting her family or posting on the message boards or anything, but she knows what’s up. So Copley and the team probably sit her down to “break the news,” but we know the girl does not have a poker face (see: literally shooting herself in the foot and not being able to play it cool whatsoever) and cracks immediately, telling them she’s seen everything about her case – she’s not interacting with any of it, she certainly didn’t instigate anything, but she knows. (And she is so goddamn proud of her brother.)

At this point, I’d like to pause and consider Nile’s role in the overall narrative of this movie. She’s set up as a foil to Andy, obviously, but she’s also a foil to Booker. Booker, who, like Andy, is a serious pessimist, but who, unlike Andy, still has very fresh memories and trauma associated with being the new kid, which have destroyed him. In his mind (and Andy’s), if Nile communicates with her family, she’ll become just like him in a century or two – bitter, alone, and stuck with her grief and memories of watching her family die and knowing they died resenting her. It’s a small sample size, but this is the only experience they have to go off of.

But it doesn’t have to be like that.

There’s been a lot of discussion of TOG being a fundamentally queer movie – a group of people brought together because of something inherent about themselves that is different, that must be hidden, that causes others to hate, fear, and reject them. Booker’s backstory is the archetypal traumatic “coming out” story – his family learns who he is, hate him for it, and attempt to cast him out of their lives. He’s stuck with his trauma, his pain, his loss, and it consumes him.

But what if Nile’s family would be the opposite? What if her “coming out” to them as immortal is met with acceptance, love, celebration? What if her family is just overjoyed to have her back, and they don’t care what the circumstances are? I'm reminded of this incredible post from @shitty-old-guard-deaths a while back, where Nile’s mother hits Booker with a frying pan because “my baby let me believe she was dead for FIVE YEARS based on your bad advice???” (which may or may not have inspired this whole tangent). Nile takes the advice of someone who did the same thing she wants to do because she doesn’t want to risk her family’s rejection. She wants the good memories with her family and is afraid that showing them her true self will bring her unbearable pain, forever replacing those memories. But, with high risk comes high reward.

Anyway. Nile and the team are trying to come up with a plan for how to handle this whole thing, but she’s not really participating because she’s too afraid to hope. Until finally, quickly, so she doesn’t lose her nerve, she suggests she reach out to them, knowing that, realistically, that’s the only solution before things snowball even further out of control. The team is shocked, but realize that she has a point. They decide that Copley should actually be the first point of contact, posing as a US government official to talk with them and test the waters.

So Copley goes to Nile’s family’s house to talk with her mom and brother. They’re probably distrustful and apprehensive, but nonetheless secretly ecstatic that their work has paid off. They talk and review all of the information that they’ve collected, including testimonials from the people on Nile’s base and recent sightings (along with photos) of Nile (with the same three people) over the last few years that people have sent them but they haven’t posted publicly. At this point, Copley’s like, yeah this is about to blow up, we gotta put our cards on the table. He convinces them to come with him to some safe house/black site/whatever he can get that is technologically impenetrable (I’m picturing them in like, an interrogation room at a police station kind of deal), takes their phones, locks the doors, and brings in Nile.

What follows is the most delightful reunion scene of all time, bringing Joe, Nicky, and even Andy to tears as they watch and listen from outside the room. With Copley’s help, Nile tells her mom and brother about her immortality and what’s been going on since she died (within reason, of course), and they are thrilled. They don’t understand why (because no one does) but they don’t question it and they see it as a gift from God – she’s been resurrected, she will live, and she has a purpose. Her mother and brother are so happy to see her again and are willing to agree with pretty much anything to stay in her life as long as they can.

So. They set up some complicated agreement (they bring in the other three for support/intimidation as needed) setting the terms of their relationship. They swear Nile’s family to secrecy, maybe bringing up the lab to show how high the stakes are, and they readily agree. They come up with some cover story for Nile’s brother to share on the message boards (maybe that the government has opened an investigation but because it’s an open case he has to shut it all down? Tells people to direct their tips somewhere else? Something to that effect). There’s still speculation, of course, but without Nile’s brother at the helm providing the energy, the hype dies down as news stories are wont to do without any movement. And Nile’s family goes to work for the team. The experience has taught them that Copley can’t possibly do everything himself, especially when it comes to social media, so Nile’s brother takes the lead on the day-to-day tracking/social media while Copley and her mom focus on finding jobs and scrubbing their traces afterward.

So there you have it: Nile gets to integrate her biological family into her found family and spend the rest of their lives with them as it should be, Copley gets some badly needed help managing the reality of social media, the team finally has a positive narrative surrounding outsiders Knowing About Them AND about interacting with people from their previous life, and the audience gets the happy ending to this very lovely and very queer story to counteract the pain associated with Booker’s family.

Plus, you know, I’m a sucker for both a good government conspiracy theory and for Nile getting every good thing she deserves.

[idy-ll-ique]

Beach Day.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x F!Reader

Genre: Fluff, Mutual Pining

Warnings: none

Requested: nope

Summary: White clothing gets transparent in water... poor Y/N doesn't know that.

Author's Note: Hiya peeps! This is kinda crack fic + fluff lmao ok enjoy!

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Ah, what a perfect day to be on a beach.

Bucky smiled softly as he sipped on his beer, the sunshine and the sound of flowing water doing wonders for his mood. The Avengers had taken a mini-vacation of sorts, opting to spend a weekend by the seaside. A trip sponsored by Tony Stark. It was a shame Natasha and Wanda couldn't join in, they had a mission to go to. Y/N was the most upset.

"Don't leave me with so much testosterone, I will die," she had whined at the time which made everyone laugh. Currently, he was sitting on a beach lounge chair alongside Steve, Sam, Tony, Thor, Loki and Clint. Y/N was inside still, changing, he guessed. "Guys!" At the feminine voice, he turned and nearly choked on his drink. "Whoa."

"Looking good, Y/L/N," Tony whistled shamelessly and Y/N blushed, the colour spreading down her body. She was dressed in a white bikini that she had purchased for the trip; it looked really good on her. "Thank you, Stark," she quipped back before heading towards the waters. Bucky blinked. Surely she wasn't going into the water wearing that…

"Y/N?"

She turned. "What?" Sam and Clint shared looks. "You going for a swim?" Sam asked and she nodded, a bright smile lifting her face. "It's been ages since I last swam!" Tony sighed and rubbed his forehead. "Are you sure you want to swim wearing that?" he groaned tiredly, causing Y/N to blink. "It's… a bikini, Tony, that's the whole point," she spoke slowly.

The 7 men glanced at each other. "Okay, then, you do you," Tony spoke and she left, stepping into the water. "If you don't date her I will, Barnes, consider this a warning," Clint breathed out once she was out of earshot. "You are married, Barton," Bucky rolled his eyes. "That's why I said it is a warning," Clint snapped back.

"I— I don't know how to ask her," Bucky admitted, playing with the bottle of beer in his hands. "Just ask her! What's the worst that could happen? Knowing Y/N— what a sweet little angel— she'll probably lay you down gently." Bucky groaned as Steve clamped a hand over Tony's mouth, shutting him. "Stop making it worse!" Tony pushed the hand away.

"Do you really think she's going to reject me?" All of them turned to Y/N, who hadn't strayed far from the group. She was alone, flinging the water here and there, laughing to herself. That warmed their hearts, Y/N was really sunshine in a bottle. "Any girl would be a fool," Sam hyped him, raising a bottle in mock toast. Bucky gave him a half-smile.

All of a sudden, they heard a squeal coming from Y/N. Their heads whipped towards her and saw her talking to some guy. Well, more like him trying to ask her out while she said no. Apparently, he wasn't listening. "Hey, asshole! Away from her!" Tony yelled obnoxiously and Bucky winced when the two people looked over. Great, she's gonna be mad at us for creating a scene.

The guy, recognizing the Avengers, fled. Y/N turned to Tony. "Thanks!" she called out before continuing her shenanigans. "The nerve of some people," Steve huffed, Loki and Thor nodding in agreement. Bucky, meanwhile, continued staring at her, shocked. She wasn't mad? Oh well, that's… nice. Suddenly, she looked up, right at him.

Freezing for a second, he managed an awkward smile and waved at her. She waved back before waving her arm, asking him to join her in the water. He gently shook his head and pointed to his arm, smiling sheepishly. Understanding his shyness, Y/N nodded and grinned at him before she started with her first lap of swimming.

"You should've gone."

"Shut up."

As Y/N swam around in the cool waters, she thought back to her conversation with the guys. Why were they so reluctant to let her swim? And whatever did Tony mean by wearing that? It was a nice bikini; a bit skimpy, sure, but it looked nice on her. So what was his problem? Shaking her head, she instead thought about Bucky. Bucky Barnes, the White Wolf, the man she wanted to go on a date with…

He had many names. Y/N had had a crush on Bucky ever since she joined the Avengers, not knowing that Bucky reflected her feelings. After a few laps, Y/N decided the water was getting too cold and she needed to step out. So she started walking towards the beach again, the water level going from her chest, to her stomach, to her hips and eventually her ankles as her feet hit dry sand.

"Y/N!"

At the loud and sharp yell she froze, her eyes darting to where her friends were seated, paralyzed. They were all staring at her with mostly the same expressions; eyes wide with mortification, jaws dropped. Then she saw Steve running towards her. She blinked at him as he wrapped a towel around her, easily picking up the Y/N burrito and walking towards the others.

"Y/N, what the fuck was that?"

Steve set her down on her feet. "What did I do?" she asked meekly, moving to drop the towel but 7 voices shouted out in unison, "No!" She pulled the towel on tighter and shook her head, going inside her room. Bucky breathed out a sigh, quickly moving to hide his boner with the bottle of beer he was holding. "She is literally so—"

"Does she not know that—"

"She probably doesn't—"

That white clothes get transparent in water.

When she had stepped out of the water, her bikini was clinging to her body but what caught his, or rather everyone's attention was that her nipples were completely on display, the perked buds clear as day through the top. No wonder all of them reacted the way they did. They stared at each other, the silence getting uncomfortable.

"Oh, man…" Tony whistled finally, running a hand through his hair. "Think about something else," Steve suggested but try as he might, he couldn't get the image of her body out of his mind. Soon, conversation started floating between them again but Bucky kept quiet, staring at the sea, lost in thoughts. "Hey guys, have you seen my fanny pack anywhere?"

Bucky looked up and saw her standing there with her hands on her hips, looking at them with an innocent expression on her face. Her towel was long gone, she was still in the bikini and God, it's still wet, look away Bucky, look away— "Y/N, what the hell, go inside! We'll find it later, just— just go inside," Clint chided and she frowned but stormed off.

Bucky, not being able to bear the look on her face, followed her. The rest of them shrugged and decided not to disturb the two for a few hours. Bucky knocked on the door to her room and, finding out it was open, nudged it apart. He peeked into the room to make sure she was not changing and found her sitting on the bed. "Y/N?" She sniffled and he walked inside, closing the door behind him.

"Y/N, don't cry, come on…"

She was still in that stupid bikini. Noticing the towel from earlier draped over the back of a chair, he picked it up and walked to her, putting it around her. "Why are they being rude?" she whispered and Bucky sighed, putting an arm around her. He gently squeezed. "They were not being rude, they were being overprotective." She didn't look convinced.

"Do I not look good?" He sighed again. "You do look good, it's just… Y/N, you really don't know, do you?" She blinked at him, confused. "What do I not know?" He went pink. "White— white clothing becomes transparent in water and, uh— uh… your, um… nipples were… uhm… very visible through the top," he stammered and a look of understanding crossed her face.

Then she blushed furiously. "Oh my God, I'm so sorry, I didn't know—" He shook his head. "It's fine. Maybe just wear a t-shirt before coming out again, okay?" She nodded before grabbing a random t-shirt off the bed; all the guys, before going out to the beach, had left a t-shirt each in Y/N's room, hoping for a quick change since her room was the closest.

Thinking it was her t-shirt, she stood up and dropped the towel. The t-shirt went down to her knees and her head tilted to the side; when did her shirt become so long? When she glanced at Bucky, he was smiling at her, amusement shining in his eyes. "What?" she asked as one of the sleeves dropped to her elbow, the neckline plunging in that direction.

One bikini strap showed on the shoulder. "You look good in my t-shirt, doll." A deep blush spread across her face. She moved to take it off but he stopped her. "Keep it on, it looks good on you. Hell, keep it forever." His words… "Buck, you need this—" "Trust me, I don't. How about this, when we go home, you raid my wardrobe because holy hell, my stuff looks good on you."

Y/N flushed deeper. Why was he acting all flirtatious all of a sudden? "I'm not raiding your whole wardrobe, Bucky." He frowned momentarily. "I thought girlfriends raided their boyfriends' wardrobes all the time." Her eyes snapped up and met his; he held a confident smirk on his face this time. "Wait… Barnes, are you asking me out?" He nodded and she squealed.

"Yes!" She rushed forward and jumped into his arms, hugging him tightly. He did not hesitate to kiss her, his hands landing on her butt as he caressed the soft flesh. Y/N's hands ended up in his hair, combing through the long locks. "I do have some rules, baby," he whispered as he led her to the bed, setting her down. He climbed on top of her and smirked again.

"What?"

"Number one: I'm throwing that fucking bikini away."

"Buck, why?!"

"No white bikinis allowed because I don't want people staring at what's mine."

"Ugh, deal."

"Good. Now, where was I? Oh yes… you and I are gonna have some fun before we go out now, okay? Be quiet for me…"

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A/N: Thanks for reading, leave a like if you enjoyed!