#so i guess that may influence answers here

[tiredspacedragon]

I get the impression that the way I pronounce Toa Zaria's name is not the norm, so I want to see how everyone else goes about it and see if anyone else is in the same boat. Or if any of us know how to pronounce this guy's name at all

[sysig]

Growing closer than expected (Patreon)

[rhyrhy]

Slut me out series ˚ · .˚ ༘🦋⋆｡˚

Football! Fuckboy! Abby Anderson x female reader!

Cw: cunnilingus, fingering (r! Receiving), sex/actions under the influence, hate sex-ish, talks of drinking, smoking, college/ modern setting Abby!, no talks on body or race specifics! (Ellie appearance!)

MDNI- mlist for previous chapters��

Chapter five: Out of bounds (not fully proofread I’m tired)

January 19th, 1am

The pool lights flickered, casting a soft glow that reflected on the water, painting everyone’s face in shades of blue and green. You had your head laid back on the cool, wet tile at the pool’s edge, listening to the distant chatter and the soft splash of water. The hum of R&B from the speakers couldn’t drown out the nagging question you had bouncing in your mind. So, you turned to Layla.

“Do you think she meant it, Lay?” you asked, unsure if the answer could even help the pit in your stomach.

Layla looked at you, brow furrowed, then softened. She knew what you were asking. “I think she did,” she said quietly. “And you know I wouldn’t lie to you. So… yeah”

Her words lingered in the air.

Was she really sorry this time? What did that even mean? What now?

You’d been soaking for an hour or so, you couldn’t bear to go back inside right now. Your mind was a mess, and whatever Layla put in your cup wasn’t helping. It just made you more fuzzy than wanted. Praying she’d come back soon, for a distraction or unfunny dad joke she loves to tell when you aren’t feeling like yourself.

You tried to push away the lingering thoughts of Abby. Don’t let her consume you, you are your own person. You repeat in your head, letting out a deep sigh. They wouldn’t leave you alone. Until a lanky, auburn haired, familiar face entered your line of sight.

You blinked a few time to process, seeing Ellie. standing a few feet away, her hands stuffed casually into the pockets of her faded jeans, her slightly awkward yet endearing smile impossible to ignore. Ellie Williams, You’d borrowed notes and had a few study groups with her in it, a friend. A comfort from the raging thoughts. Ellie’s eyes glinted with playful energy. you couldn’t help but feel a slight pull toward her, even with everything else on your mind.

“You looked a little lonely over here.” She nodded toward you, her green eyes flicking briefly to the drink in your hand. “Guess I’ll have to keep you company now.”

A small smile fell on your face. “Oh you’ll ‘have to’ , Is that right?”

Ellie shrugged, stepping closer. “Just doing my civic duty.” She leaned against the pool railing, her expression soft. “soo, you hiding from someone or?All mopey, red solo cup in hand”

You laugh at her dramatic description of you just chilling in the pool. Although she’s right, you were a tad ‘mopey’. Before you could answer, the patio door slid open with a clatter. Abby stepped out, her broad shoulders silhouetted by the light from the house, carrying an air that made your heart to pause for half a second. Yeah..Maybe it was foolish to think she wouldn’t be here.

Ellie’s teasing smirk faded slightly as her gaze flicked toward Abby, and she straightened up. “Guess I’ll leave you to it,” she murmured, her voice quieter now. She gave you a smile before turning and disappearing back into the crowd.

You barely had time to process Ellie’s sudden appearance before she was shuffling through the backyard. you sighed deeply and sank into the water a little more praying once more but for her to somehow not notice you.

And for awhile, she didn’t…until she did.

“Oh…Didn’t expect to see you here,” Abby said, her tone calm, though the way her hands flexed at her sides awkwardly gave her away.

You set your drink down on the pool ledge, avoiding her eyes. “Didn’t plan on it.” She may have apologized but I didn’t mean you were any less pissed at her whole ‘hit it and quit it’ act.

The air between you felt heavy, the distant chatter of the party and the bass-heavy music fading into the background. Abby shifted on her feet, glancing over her shoulder briefly, as if gauging whether this conversation was worth continuing.

…And for better or worse, she decided it was.

“Hey, about the other night—”

“Please Don’t,” you cut her off, finally meeting her gaze. Her blue eyes were softer than you wanted them to be, and it made your chest tighten. “I’m not here to rehash it, please.”

Abby hesitated, the sharp confidence she usually carried dulled by your words. Then Abby’s jaw tightened, and for a moment, you thought she might walk away. Instead, she took a step closer, her voice almost pleading. “I don’t know how to fix this, okay? But I meant what I said to you, even if I messed up.”

There it was again. you had wanted to hear for weeks, and yet it still didn’t feel the way you thought it would. The words sounded sincere, but sincerity didn’t erase the hurt she’d caused.

Your heart skipped, the weight of her words pressing down on you. You wanted to believe her—wanted to believe there was still something real there—but the ache of what she’d done was still fresh. Before you could respond, Layla reappeared, her presence breaking the tension like a knife to a balloon.

“Sis, Everything good here?” she asked, her tone casual but her eyes narrowed as they flicked between you and Abby.

“Fine,” you said quickly, grabbing your drink and standing up. “I was just heading inside.”

You brushed past Abby, The feeling of her strong shoulder against yours sent a shiver down your spine but it quickly vanished. feeling her eyes linger on you as you walked away. The second somewhat apology had come, or more so admission of guilt..but the question of if it was genuine still bounced around in the air.

——-

The night dragged on, Layla throwing more distractions your way than you could handle. They were almost working. “we’re about to play pong in the living room. You in?” You hesitated, glancing toward the back door. You could still feel Abby’s presence out there, like a shadow you couldn’t shake.

Layla nudged you. “Come on, forget her for a minute. This is supposed to be fun, remember?”

Sighing, you relented. “Fine. But only if I’m on your team. I’m not carrying someone else.”

Layla grinned, pulling you toward the living room where a makeshift table had been set up. Red solo cups were lined up in neat triangles on either end, and a group of people were already cheering loudly as a ball arced through the air and splashed into one of the cups.

——-

The game quickly became a small escape—a distraction that let you focus on something other than Abby’s lingering words. You and Layla made a solid team, racking up points and earning loud cheers from the group that had gathered to watch.

For a while, it felt like the knot in your stomach was starting to loosen. You were finally feeling normal. Before this torture of the Abby Anderson web. The laughter, the competitive smack talk, and Layla’s overbearing teasing were enough to keep your mind occupied.

But then, just as you were lining up a shot, you caught sight of her. Abby had come back inside, her towering frame impossible to miss as she leaned against the wall near the kitchen, arms crossed. Her eyes were on you.

You locked hers with her mid throw—You missed the shot.

Layla noticed immediately, following your gaze. “Seriously?” she muttered under her breath. “She can’t leave you alone for five minutes?”

“Lay, Let it go,” you said quickly, trying to shake it off, but the distraction was already setting in.

Abby didn’t move, didn’t say anything. She just watched you, her expression unreadable. no matter how much you tried to focus on the game, her presence was like vacuum, pulling your attention back to her again and again. You hated the small flutter in your stomach swirling with irritation and hurt.

——-

The alcohol was settling in now, warmth washing over, blurring the sharp, harsh edges of the world around you. The chatter from the living room blurred into the heavy bass of the music, and Layla’s voice faded into the background as you excused yourself, weaving through the crowd toward the bathroom.

Inside, the sounds of the party fell away, leaving only the hum of dim lights and the distant thrum of the music through the walls. You leaned against the sink, as you stared at your reflection. still slightly damp from the dip earlier you turned to find a towel to dry off fully.

emotional weight of the night hitting you like a bricks, feeling your chest tighten as the flashes of the past month began to pour in now that you were alone with no distractions.

The push and pull was maddening. Every time you tried to move away from it, she showed up. Every time she spoke, she cracked open wounds you were desperate to let heal. How can her words be the bullet and bandage at the same time?

Why can’t you just let me go?

The door creaked open behind you, and you froze, meeting Abby’s reflection in the mirror. She stepped inside, closing the door behind her with a quiet click.

“Abby—”

“I had to,” she interrupted, her voice low and raw. “I couldn’t just…watch you out there and say nothing.”

You turned to face her, your back pressed against the sink. “We’ve already said enough.”

“Clearly not,” she said, her gaze pleading once again. as she took a step closer. “You think I don’t see it? You’re hurting. And I know I’m the reason why.”

Her words hung heavy in the air, cutting through the haze of alcohol just enough to make your chest ache. “Then why do you keep doing this?” you asked, your voice breaking. “Why can’t you just leave me alone if you’re not going to—”

“I don’t want to leave you alone,” she said, closing the distance between you. Her voice softened, but her expression was anything but. “You think I don’t feel it too? You think I don’t hate myself for how I’ve hurt you?”

You opened your mouth to respond, but before you could, Abby’s strong hands were on your face, pulling you toward her. Her lips crashed into yours, desperate and messy, the heat of the moment fueled by the alcohol coursing through your system and the unresolved tension between you. You dropped the towel you had in hand and clinger onto her to steady you both.

You said you were done, she was supposed to be a closed chapter. So this wasn’t the best idea—you both knew that. The taste of tequila lingered on her lips, and your thoughts screamed at you to pull away, but your body didn’t listen. Your fingers tangled in her shirt as you kissed her back, a mix of anger, longing with a swirl of so many other emotions you couldn’t and wouldn’t name.

The kiss deepened, your back pressing harder against the sink as her hands slid to your waist, holding you like you might disappear. Her tongue darting into your mouth when gasped at her grasp on your hips. pull away. Pull away!

You couldn’t. For a moment, the world outside the bathroom disappeared. There was no party, no pain, no lingering questions. just the two of you, caught in something reckless. as the kiss broke, reality crashed back in. Abby’s forehead rested pressed against yours, her breathing uneven. You couldn’t open your eyes, knowing it would make the moment too real. The weight of what was happening would crash back into your mind if you did. Your mind once again a hailstorm of emotions and unspoken words.

“Abs…This doesn’t fix anything,” you whispered.

“I know,” Abby said, her voice low and hoarse. “But I can’t help it. Please just…please just this once”

She couldn’t help it and Neither could you.

As soon as you gave her the green light, your lips were back together like you were glued together.

Her tongue gently teased at your lower lip gently, silently asking for permission to deepen the kiss. Her other hand moved from your hip to wrap around your waist, her fingers gently holding onto the back of your shirt, pulling you closer still.

The moment you gave her access, abby’s tongue darted back into your mouth, her moan muffled by the kiss as she began to deepen the kiss. Her hand on your lower back began to explore your body, slowly tracing up and down your sides while she kissed you. Clearly missing how you felt in her hands.

She felt as if her body was almost completely pressed against yours now, her hands and lips practically greedy as they continued to explore, both her hands tracing up and down your sides, over your hips, and your body pressed against hers, her tongue continuing to gently explore your mouth, tasting you, wanting more of you, needing more of you.

Abby’s breathing became heavy and ragged as the kiss went on, her entire body continuing to react more and more as the kiss continued, her hands continuing to trace over your body, her hips gently grinding against yours, a small moan slipping past her lips again as she began to kiss you with more and more urgency. You were sure she was going to devour you at this point. She felt as if she was losing herself in the kiss, feeling as if the only thing that mattered was how your body felt against hers, how your tongue felt in her mouth, how your body was pushing her against the wall, her moans getting louder and louder the more the kissed.

You were surprised and slightly disappointed when she pulled away, wanting to continue the kiss. breathing heavily, trying to catch your breath, lips slightly swollen from the kiss, cheeks flushed as your eyes slowly opened.

her eyes tracing from yours to your slightly swollen lips, enjoying how they still looked from the kiss. Her hands were still resting gently on your hips, almost like she couldn’t bring herself to let go of your body. Not again. Not after all this time apart. Even though it was her fault.

Abby sighs of relief and moans softly at the feeling of your hands on her hips. You gave into the moment and ran your hands over the places you missed most. her body responding instantly to your touch. She leans in, pressing her mouth to your neck, her lips trailing hot kisses along the soft skin there.

Abby smiles against your skin as she feels your response, her kisses becoming more intense as she nips and sucks at your neck. Her hand slides up to tangle in your hair, holding your head in place as her other hand grips at your hip, pulling you closer, if that’s even possible at this point. she continues to kiss and bite at your neck, but she wants more. She wants to taste you, to re-explore every inch of you. missing the way you sounded and squirmed under her. Without warning, she drops suddenly to her knees, her hands working quickly at the fastenings of your jeans. Those blue eyes flick up to meet yours, a hint of mischief in them as she works the buttons on your jeans. you gasp as she began to undo your bottoms, hips bucking slightly with anticipation. She can hear your breath coming in shorter bursts. She feels the hand tighten on her shoulders, as you watch her work. All rational thoughts are out the window and did a full 180. Her hands push at the fabric, tugging them down over your hips until they're around your ankles. Truth be told, she didn’t want to double check in fear you’d pull away.

She wastes no time in moving forward, her mouth immediately pressed against the soft, sensitive skin of your plush inner thigh.

The kisses move higher, her tongue tracing patterns along your thighs as her hands grip your hips, keeping you pinned against the bathroom wall. You caught a glimpse of yourself in the mirror. Flushed, hand in her hair, biting your lip in response to her mouth so close to where you wanted her. mind too fuzzy to care about if this was a good idea anymore.

Abby leans in and presses her mouth against the soft material of your underwear. her tongue tracing the edge of the material as her hands slide up and down your thighs, gripping at your skin. She glances up at you from time to time, watching your expressions as she works, every sigh and sigh like a sign telling her to keep going.

“Abs…please”

She hears you gasp her name and moans in response, the sound muffled by the fabric of your underwear. She reaches up and pulls the material away with a quick tug, her mouth immediately moving to taste you directly, her tongue sliding over your folds, desperately separating them.

Tongue plunging into your walls.

the slight was almost to much, as leaned your head back onto the wall in pleasure. her tongue-fucking you, face buried so deep between your legs you weren’t sure if she was even breathing, and honestly didn’t care.

Dropping a hand to grip onto her hair, needing to steady yourself to not buckle completely.

She slid a hand up your hips to cup around one of your breast. Needing at the skin, like she was trying to re-memorize the lines and dips of your body. When she squeezed a little on the swell of your breast

You groaned and involuntarily thrusting your hips up, giving her access to push her tongue further into your wet gummy yet needy entrance

then drops the hand completely to draw messy circles around the tense bud of your clit.

All you could do half lidded was watch the scene of her working on your pussy for the third time you’d allowed her between your legs, in the bathroom mirror. One strong veiny hand gripping on your hip to keep you steady and the other filling the bathroom walls with sounds of sin. The sloshing of her thick fingers working against you restlessly. finding its home in the warm, wet folds of your cunt. Thumb out to press messy circles on the aching bud of your clit.

Your words were slurred pleas to go faster, give you move. subconsciously wanting her to tire herself out on pleasing you, in slight payback of the hell she’d been putting you through these past few weeks.

“Faster abs..faster” you begged gripping her hair into you as close as she could be.

Those desperate blue eyes watch every reaction you gave her. Obeying your wishes she draws her fingers out and plunge them back into you again in a quicker manner.

your eyes rolled back. gripping her braid so tight you’d think you’d pull her thoughts out.

Jesus, she kept brushing on a spot deep inside you with the pads of her fingers. Thankfully, She never faltered, plunging her fingers knuckle-deep at whatever pace you mumbled out. You two were completely lost in the moment. The room was so hot, with hurt, and pure need.

Every hurtful moment that flashed through your mind caused you to rut of your hips faster against her face. If you couldn’t punch it, you were going to fuck it into oblivion.

your walls were sensitive you’re clamping around her fingers. Head fallen back on the wall.

Abby can hear it in your voice, the way your words are coming out in broken gasps and moans, the way you're trembling and pressing against her.

you couldn’t take it anymore, squeezing your thighs together around her head. And crying out through your teeth as you let the orgasm take you.

Back jolting off the wall as you let the flash of white from your eyes squeezing shut. and shudder as you placed a hand on her shoulder to stay upright. Catching your breath and slowly opening your eyes once more, seeing yourself in the mirror once again.

A mess.

—-

“We— Jesus… we can’t keep doing this…this is so stupid Abby I—“ you panted out. Tugging her head back from between your legs to look up at you.

but the sound of a knock at the door interrupted

“Hey, some of us need the bathroom too, you know!” a voice called from outside, followed by a chorus of laughter.

You both froze, caught in the intimacy of the moment and the sudden reminder of where you were. Abby’s eyes stayed locked on yours, looking up at you. Hands on your hips still. searching for something…maybe forgiveness, maybe understanding..but you couldn’t give it to her. Not yet. Especially not after what you just gave into.

——-

Last few chapters on Sunday! Thank you for reading so far :p💓💐💞 will proofread later, I’m half asleep 💤

—-

Taglist cuties: @deadbolted @grey-jedi12 @ceylnisgone @evabby @abby-anderson-wifey @icedsimpsayo @elle-girlylesbian

[cacospirit]

Emmrich reads Thirst Tweets

Emmrich: Hello, I'm professor Emmrich Volkarin and today I am joining the LADBible to read Thirsty Tweets

*intro plays*

Emmrich: All right then shall we? Let's get to it... "I think if Emmrich sat me down to talk to me about life-work balance while giving me praise that would fix me"

Emmrich: I think we all can do with a bit of that, now and then. Not because we are broken, but because we are human. The human condition is not something that can be so easily 'fixed' in a one and done sort of manner, rather it requires constant maintenance in form of love and support that we should all strive to provide for each other

Emmrich: Next we have... "Hey Emmrich you're supposed to be a bone expert but I haven't seen you live up to the name. I think you need to demonstrate, preferably on me. Please and thank you"

Emmrich: Ah, a cheeky bit of double entendre going on here, in a quite polite way as well, If I may say so. I suppose common courtesy isn't entirely lost in this digital medium. I would be amiss to not point out that necromancy is not only the study of bones. They are, of course, the vessel, that much is true. But it is what the vessel contains that truly matters, the spirit, the soul. That's what makes necromancy so unendingly captivating, for me at least.

Emmrich: This one, quite succinctly, states "Who is the daddiest of daddies and why is it Emmrich"

Emmrich: A question and its answer, all wrapped up in one. That's certainly a time efficient way to get your point across. I'm not fully confident that I live up to that kind of apotheotic superlative but I could certainly aspire to. The qualities we associate with a paternal figure can of course feel very comforting even as we reach adulthood, and I'd undoubtedly see it as an achievement if I could provide that, especially to Manfred and my students.

Emmrich: And here we have..."Emmrich could throw me into a volcano, resurrect me, and then throw me into the same volcano again and I'd still spend eternity singing his praise in the afterlife"

Emmrich: Oh... we got a bit of... violent imagery going on here. Certainly not unheard of in romantic prose. After all, what is longing if not aching of the heart? Being taken from a loved one can often feel like a dagger to the heart, and quite often I think we feel like we'd rather take the dagger. There... might be a bit confusion here about the nature of necromancy. We can not 'resurrect people' as such, as a spirit is brought to animate a body some may claim, myself included, that the past soul has imprinted in a way on the mortal vessel, but it's not the same person. But... a very passionate proclamation we got here, that is for certain. Not that there's anything awry with that, after all, does not every proclamation of love feel like shouting from the rooftops? We might as well say it with our chest any of the times we are given the opportunity

Emmrich: So, let's see, our next inquirer has as much to say as... "Day 465 of trying to find out if Emmrich has used blood magic to turn me into his se[BLEEP] slave or if my brain is just spaghetti from gooning too hard"

Emmrich: that's... uhm, there is certainly much to unpack here. So... 465 days? That's.... quite a long time for sure, nevertheless.... uhm, yes. Blood magic, I think it's important to recognize that no mage is every truly safe from the allure of its promise of near limitless influence and power. Although... typically it's less often found in necromancers since our usual subjects don't possess blood. I don't practice blood magic, not only because of the deeply unethical aspects of its execution but also... I believe the best way to spread influence is through knowledge, not by some arcane force of hand. So I guess this troubled individual is more inclined to find the explanation of... brain, turned into spaghetti? To hold true here. I suppose at times a state of cognitive disarray can very much feel like our heads contain nothing but a sloppy mess of tangled up thoughts. And... gooning? Goon, like a lackey? Well... in moments of reverence it's certainly easy to get consumed by but one singular thought.

Emmrich: With that out of the way... lets move on to the next one, let's see... "Hey Emmrich how is the lichdom coming along? I could sure use a lich as a dom"

Emmrich: Well... a rather clever rearrangement of words here. Achieving lichdom is not about dominance, regardless of... what the name might imply, if you read it with a certain type of bias anyways. In many ways it's the opposite, becoming a lich is about wanting to protect against the type of forces that seek to achieve... dominance. Not saying that it would be inherently undoable or unethical to have that kind of consensual agreement with a lich, but... it's also certainly not something that follows the title.

Emmrich: Oh, this one looks nice: "Many look at Emmrich and say that sexy does not have an expiration date..." I'd be inclined to agree with that! The nature of human attraction cannot easily be confined as narrowly as our usual societal standards often suggest "...but since there is no way to know for sure I think Emmrich should f[BLEEP]k me raw as soon as possible while we still have time"

Emmrich: well... I.... uhm, there's probably... I don't think there is a need for haste at this very moment. While it is true that we should seize any moment to live our lives to the fullest I don't think... this, is necessarily the logical endpoint of that line of reasoning. But... they do provide some semblance of logical reasoning here, which is of course commendable.

Emmrich: Oh, that was the last one? Well then, we have done what we came here to do. We have read all of the thirst tweets that you have put out there on the internet

Muffled voice off screen: these are just a few that we picked out, there are a lot more than this

Emmrich: Oh there's more? Well, maybe we could say that we have read most of them at least

Muffled voice off screen: well, some of them

Emmrich: some of them let's just say some of them. Thank you to LADBible for having and thank you all aspiring writers for these literary tid bits. This has been thirst tweets

[bestofmultiverse]

Between the pages || 5

Aubrey plaza x fem!reader

"Whatever our struggles and triumphs, however we may suffer them, all too soon they bleed into a wash, just like watery ink on paper. A love like this is a dream.”

– Kafka on the Shore by Haruki Murakami

A/N : Idk if it good but i kinda felt like being sappy here.

1 • 2 • 3 • 4

The interview seemed to be going well, Y/N thought, watching from behind the scenes.

Aubrey had a knack for charming people with just one smile. She was relaxed as she spoke to Drew about her upcoming project, her confidence radiating in every word. Y/N felt her heart skip a beat as Aubrey flirted playfully (Y/N couldn’t blame her—it’s Drew Barrymore, for crying out loud!) and teased her fans with a casual grin that always left her weak in the knees.

Drew seemed to enjoy the banter, too. The two of them joked effortlessly, with Drew throwing in a few personal questions—ones Aubrey had agreed to answer beforehand. Y/N could sense the moment she’d been both dreading and anticipating inching closer.

Their relationship.

For some reason, even after months, people couldn’t seem to let it go. The world was fascinated by the unlikely pairing, endlessly dissecting it. Y/N figured it was because she wasn’t famous, nor did she live a very public life. People were either intrigued by her anonymity or bitter, labeling her a gold-digger.

Her social media was private, her career was far from glamorous, and even when her future book will be finally published—her own book, not just something she’d co-edited—she knew she’d still be considered “ordinary” next to Aubrey. She wasn’t an actress, a model, or an influencer. She was just a small-town girl who, somehow, had caught the Aubrey Plaza’s attention—and love.

A montage of pictures suddenly appeared on the screen, paired with Drew’s next question. Y/N watched nervously.

The first photo showed her lying on top of Aubrey on their couch, fast asleep with her face buried in Aubrey’s stomach. Aubrey, meanwhile, was smiling like she’d won the lottery. The second image was a messy selfie of them covered in eggs and flour, laughing with huge, silly grins. The last was from a Marvel party they’d attended together: Aubrey’s hand rested possessively on Y/N’s waist as they leaned in close, noses almost touching. Y/N had a crinkle in her nose, clearly giggling at something Aubrey had whispered.

From her seat, Y/N noticed Aubrey shift slightly, sitting a little straighter. It was subtle, but Y/N could tell—her girlfriend was nervous.

“So, there are a lot of rumors about your relationship,” Drew began warmly. “It’s not new news, but somehow it’s still keeping people on their toes. How do you feel about that? And how’s your girlfriend handling it?”

Drew’s tone was light, like a friend genuinely curious, not a journalist digging for a scoop.

Aubrey smiled softly. “How do I feel about it? Well… I’ve had a few relationships in my life—some public, some less so. Most were great in their own ways. But honestly, this one? This one’s it for me. She’s my person, and I’m happy. I just wish people could be more supportive of that.”

She paused for a moment, glancing briefly behind Drew to catch Y/N’s eye. When she saw Y/N’s encouraging thumbs-up and grin, Aubrey’s smile grew.

“But I get it,” she continued. “People wonder, they talk—and that’s fine, I guess. It’s part of the package deal. I just wish the hate wasn’t part of it. It’s one thing when it’s the media. Neither of us cares what some sleazy tabloid writer thinks. But when it’s from people who call themselves fans? That stings. For both of us.”

Drew nodded, her expression understanding. “Do you think addressing it will change anything? Or are you worried it might even get worse?”

Aubrey shrugged. “I don’t know. I’m not counting on this fixing anything. God, I hope it doesn’t get worse. But even if it does, we have a great relationship. I’m crazy about her, and that’s all that matters.”

She glanced over at Y/N and winked, making her laugh softly.

“Aren’t you a sweetheart,” Drew teased, grinning.

The conversation moved to lighter topics, including Aubrey’s notorious pranks on set and an embarrassing story about the time she accidentally walked into the wrong bathroom at an awards show. The tension from earlier melted away as they both dissolved into laughter. Y/N knew fans would love this part. Aubrey seemed lighter, too, like addressing the issue had lifted a weight off her shoulders.

After the interview aired, the two decided to ditch their phones for the evening. They curled up on the couch in Aubrey’s apartment, embracing the quiet.

Y/N rested her head on Aubrey’s shoulder, sighing contentedly. “Well, that wasn’t a complete disaster,” she teased.

“Disaster? That was amazing,” Aubrey replied, reaching over to run her fingers through Y/N’s hair. “And I killed it, if I do say so myself.”

Y/N snorted. “Humble as ever.”

“Hey, it’s not bragging if it’s true.” Aubrey smirked, leaning down to press a kiss to Y/N’s temple. “Besides, you were the real MVP, giving me that thumbs-up when I needed it. You’re my rock, you know that?”

“Stop. You’re making me blush,” Y/N mumbled, hiding her face against Aubrey’s neck.

“Good. You’re cute when you blush.”

They stayed like that for a while, wrapped up in each other, the world and its noise fading away. For now, all that mattered was the warmth of the moment and the peace of being together, on their own terms.

The morning light crept into Aubrey’s apartment, highlighting the lazy entanglement of limbs on the couch. Y/N stirred first, groaning softly as the realization dawned that they’d fallen asleep there. Aubrey, half-awake, tightened her arm around Y/N’s waist.

“Don’t move,” Aubrey murmured, her voice husky with sleep. “You’re my pillow.”

Y/N chuckled, brushing her fingers through Aubrey’s messy hair. “We’re not even in bed. My neck is going to hate me for this later.”

“It’s a small price to pay for cuddles,” Aubrey countered, pressing her face into Y/N’s shoulder.

The moment was warm and serene, but the peace was short-lived. Y/N glanced at her phone on the coffee table, her curiosity getting the better of her. Against her better judgment, she reached for it.

As soon as she unlocked it, her screen lit up with notifications. Dozens of missed messages, tagged posts, and news alerts. A quick scroll through Twitter showed one trending topic: #AubreyAndYN.

“Oh no,” Y/N muttered, biting her lip. “Aubrey, we’re trending again.”

Aubrey groaned dramatically, flopping onto her back like a starfish. “Of course we are. Can’t the world leave us alone for one day?”

“It’s… different this time,” Y/N said hesitantly, scrolling further. “Look.”

Curiosity piqued, Aubrey sat up and leaned over Y/N’s shoulder. What they found was unexpected.

Instead of the usual nasty gossip or conspiracy theories, the feed was flooded with supportive messages and heartwarming edits. Fans had clipped moments from the interview, adding captions like, “Aubrey loves her GF so much, I’m crying 🥹” and, “Finally, they addressed the haters. Good for them!”

A particularly popular tweet featured the marvel party photo that had appeared in the interview. It was captioned, “Find someone who looks at you like Aubrey looks at Y/N. Relationship goals!”

Y/N scrolled further, finding more positive reactions. One user wrote, “I wasn’t sure about them at first, but seeing Aubrey defend her GF so fiercely? Respect.”

Another said, “Y/N’s clearly the happiest thing to happen to Aubrey. Why can’t we just let them be in love?”

Aubrey raised an eyebrow, amused. “Wow. Are we in the Twilight Zone? Where’s all the hate?”

“There’s still some,” Y/N admitted, gesturing to a few bitter comments. “But it’s… quieter than usual.”

Aubrey grinned, clearly pleased. “Looks like our plan worked. I told you people just needed to see how awesome you are.”

Y/N rolled her eyes but couldn’t suppress her smile. “Sure. It’s totally because I’m awesome, not because you publicly declared your undying love for me on live television.”

“Well, that didn’t hurt,” Aubrey teased, wrapping her arms around Y/N’s waist and pulling her close. “Maybe I should do it more often.”

Y/N laughed, leaning into Aubrey’s embrace. “Let’s not push our luck.”

They spent the next hour scrolling through the posts, laughing at memes and reading comments aloud. By the time they set their phones down, the tension from the day before had all but disappeared.

Later, as they sat at the kitchen table, sharing a plate of pancakes Aubrey had lovingly burnt on one side, Y/N felt a strange sense of calm.

“You know,” she said, spearing a piece of pancake with her fork, “it’s kind of nice seeing people be supportive for a change.”

Aubrey nodded, sipping her coffee. “Yeah. Feels weird, though. Like, are we actually allowed to enjoy this?”

“I think so,” Y/N said with a small smile. “We deserve to enjoy it.”

Aubrey reached across the table to take Y/N’s hand, squeezing it gently. “We do. And for the record, I don’t care if we’re trending, ignored, or completely forgotten. As long as I have you, I’m good.”

Y/N’s cheeks flushed. “You’re such a sap.”

“You love it,” Aubrey shot back, her grin mischievous.

“Unfortunately, I do.”

They spent the rest of the morning laughing, teasing each other, and stealing bites of pancake from the same plate. No matter what the internet thought of them, they were happy—and that was all that mattered.

[creatingblackcharacters]

I have a question about coding non-human characters as Black-- is it okay to have a fantasy race (so more like a species, really, like mermaids or elves) where some characters of that fantasy species are coded Black (in terms of things like features and hair, sometimes skintone byt not always if they have fantasy skintones) and others aren't?

I thought it was alright and made sense because the fantasy 'races' are more like species, so it would make sense to give them as much diversity as humans, but also from a worldbuilding and I guess science (?) standpoint someone pointed out to me that if they all evolved alongside each other it's not super realistic for them to have features that historically are different due to evolving in different climates.

When I decided I would be creating certain non-human characters who I coded as Black who live alongside other members of their species who may not be, I kind of just thought it would be a nice touch in terms of diversity in character design, but what that person said kind of made me think that maybe it wasn't a good idea to code non-human characters as Black when I wouldn't really be able to work their Blackness into the narrative due to their fantasy species not having dynamics based off of that sort of thing. (And it's fanfiction, not my own world, so idk if I can add them?)

I'm sorry if this question comes off as kind of disjointed and hard to read, but yeah. I know you did do a lesson about Black coding but in there I couldn't really find an answer to this specific question. Would it be better to simply not code certain members of a fantasy species as Black (when others are not) if I'm unable to address their Blackness due to them I guess not technically being Black (as we humans see Blackness) because they're elves or mermaids or whatever? Because I would also feel bad having a cast full entirely of non-humans, none of whom have any Black features at all.

(Also, thank you so much for your help with Lydriia the other day! I commissioned some new art of her recently and I'm so in love with it aaahhh)

IF YOU WANT BLACK VERSIONS OF YOUR FANTASY SPECIES THEN MAKE THEM!

You could have that species live all around your fantasy world. They can travel, trade, intermingle, start families and communities amongst one another. Or, tbh, it's a FANTASY WORLD, I don't think we'll all die if you don't apply real world population genetics. Mermaids aren't real and yet here they are. So. Just give them a community so they're not the only Black one.

As for your story, if they're humanoid enough to describe, then you can describe the same things on them as you would with a regular human Black person. Hair texture, nose, lips, hair styles, style influence, etc. If you paint them, we know who we're looking at, and so does everyone else (it's why Black elves and dwarves make them mad).

[starlightkun]

❧ word count: 17.4k ❧ warnings: cursing ❧ genre: fluff, some mild angst, model jeno, journalist reader, reader is lowkey a bit of a jerk for some of it but for understandable reasons ❧ extra info: this is a reworked version of an old fic of mine that was about a former member. since i still really love the fic, i’ve made some (heavy) edits to re-release it about jeno instead. you can consider this the spiritual successor/an alternate universe to my sleepless cinderella series

You’d finally gone insane, you’d decided. Absolutely bonkers, completely crazy. After all, how else would you explain the fact that you were now kissing Jeno?

You felt absolutely pathetic. You were a journalist at a rather popular magazine, and your editor had finally entrusted you with a centerfold spot. So far, your word document for your article had less than a handful of words: your name. Writer’s block, and with only two months until copies were supposed to hit the shelves.

And so here you were, sitting on the small couch in your boss’ office, trying not to sound like you were whining to her. But you needed some sort of guidance. Ms. Zhang was sat on the other end of the couch from you, legs crossed, and round frames perched on the end of her nose as she thoughtfully listened to your rant.

Her voice was casual as she simply replied with, “Anything new in your life, Y/N?”

Which was a complete non-sequitur from your desperate plea for a subject. She really just wanted to make small talk while you were having an existential crisis?

Stunned, you blinked for a moment before answering, “Uh, not much. My roommate made me go out to this party a while ago.”

“That’s nice. Did you have fun?”

You were still completely unsure of why she wasn’t addressing your issue, but went along with it, nonetheless, “I guess.”

“Meet anyone?”

“Kind of. Seven someones, technically.”

“Oh?”

Realizing how that sounded, you grimaced to yourself before giving your boss an explanation of the actual situation. Your roommate NingNing had dragged you to the grand opening of a new nightclub, which she got an invite to thanks to her huge social media following. She was possibly the only actually down-to-Earth influencer you’d ever met—and you’d met plenty, thanks to her. The two of you had been friends since you were kids, before you entered into completely different lives as adults. You had a 9 to 5 while she was being paid insane amounts of money by luxury brands just to post a single photo of herself with their product.

The nightclub of course had a VIP section at the back, which NingNing was easily given access to, as well as you, her plus-one. It was there that you were introduced to Mark Lee, an up and coming young actor with a practically cult following online; Huang Renjun, an extremely popular video game streamer and YouTuber; Lee Jeno, an actual supermodel whose visage was across some of the biggest billboards in the city; Haechan, a pop star that you didn’t dare address by anything other than his stage name; Na Jaemin, another streamer and YouTuber who had recently been picked up for a modeling contract; Zhong Chenle, heir to the Zhong family fortune, whose family was involved in anything and everything to do with the entertainment industry and owned the nightclub; and Park Jisung, an influencer more in the same vein as NingNing, with millions of Instagram followers. Apparently, you had made a good enough impression that Chenle gave you your own pass to the VIP lounge—NingNing of course had her own, too.

At the end of your story, Ms. Zhang had a worryingly knowing smile across her lips, “You met seven celebrities in one night?”

“Do influencers and streamers really count as celebrities?”

“You met seven very popular men—three or four of whom are certifiable celebrities—in one night, have access to a private lounge they all frequent, and you still don’t have a subject for your article?”

Your jaw may have dropped slightly as you realized this. Immediately, your face turned hot as you refused the idea, “I don’t want to exploit them and make them uncomfortable somewhere that’s supposed to be free from that kind of stuff.”

She frowned as she shook her head, “I’m disappointed in you, Y/N. I thought you understood that journalism isn’t inherently exploitative.”

“I’m sorry, I know it’s not—”

“Are you going to publish horrible rumors and tabloid things with private information they don’t want to be out there? Is that what we do here?”

“No, but they’re all going to think that’s what I’ll do.”

“Show them those assumptions are wrong. It’s all in the way you carry yourself. If you are honest and humble and make them feel comfortable, they should have no reason to doubt what kind of journalist you are.”

At this point, you felt like melting into the pinstriped couch cushions in shame. You shouldn’t have doubted your boss’ vision for her magazine or demeaned your own career. And now you’d made Ms. Zhang disappointed in you. You would’ve preferred her to have yelled at you.

All that was left was to make her proud.

Three days later and you still hadn’t returned to the lounge.

Honestly, you were just being a chicken. And a procrastinator. A procrastinating chicken.

Slumped into your armchair in your living room, you blankly zoned off into the distance as you listened to your playlist through an earbud. NingNing was perched on your kitchen table, feet swinging off the side as she edited some photos on her phone.

As she tapped away, you found your gaze fixating on the visage on the cover of a magazine that had been resting on your coffee table. Squinting your eyes curiously and tilting your head to the side, you asked, “He kind of looks like a dog, right?”

“Who?” Your roommate raised a concerned eyebrow as she peered over her phone screen at you.

“Lee Jeno.” You held up the magazine. “He kind of looks like a dog. Right?”

Your friend squinted at the cover then gave you that same look, “No, he doesn’t. Y/N, I think the sleep deprivation has finally gotten to you. You’re delirious.”

“No, I swear, he looks like a dog,” you insisted, pulling your earbud out to be able to better argue your point. “A very specific kind of dog, God, it’s on the tip of my tongue.”

“He doesn’t.”

You crossed your arms. “I bet the others would agree with me.”

“You want to go ask them?” She challenged. “Jisung texted me saying they were all going to be there again tonight.”

“If that’s what’ll convince you.”

“I have been begging you to go back for weeks, and now you’ve agreed to go back to ask them if they agree that Jeno looks like a dog?” NingNing scoffed incredulously.

“Yeah.”

“Alright, fine, you weirdo. Be ready to leave at midnight.”

When you arrived at the club, you immediately felt out of place again. You clung onto NingNing’s arm tightly as she confidently led the way through the crowd to the VIP lounge. She flashed a smile and her VIP pass to the bouncer outside the room, who nodded and stepped aside. As soon as the two of you entered the small room that consisted of one large rounded booth, you immediately regretted your decision. When NingNing said that everyone would be there, your brain hadn’t pieced together that ‘everyone’ included Lee Jeno, who perked up with interest as the two of you walked in.

Jeno eyed you curiously, an eyebrow raised, “So you came back.”

“Y/N has something really important to ask you guys,” NingNing announced, gesturing to you pointedly.

You felt like a deer in the headlights as all of them turned to look at you. Swallowing thickly, you avoided looking at Jeno as you tried to think of anything else to say.

“Sit down, let’s get you a drink first,” Jaemin kindly saved you, gesturing to the open space at the end of the booth seat.

NingNing sat down next to Mark, who had previously been at the end, and you scooted in after her. The circular table unfortunately made it so that you were looking directly at Jeno, who you couldn’t help but sneak glances at as your brain still stubbornly tried to remember what breed of dog he reminded you of. Another round was brought out for everyone, and you gratefully started sipping on yours.

It was when he smiled up at the waiter as he was handed his drink that it finally hit you. You had to bite down on your lip not to cry out in victory.

Chenle looked at you over his sunglasses—yes he was wearing sunglasses indoors at night, as he had been last time. He asked, “So what is this really important thing you have to ask us?”

You looked at NingNing desperately, but she just gave you a deliberate nod.

“Come on, Y/N, it’ll be fine.”

With a gulp, you gathered your courage to just fucking say it and get it over with. You still wanted to be right. “Okay, think about it really hard before you answer.”

They all nodded in assent, anticipating your question.

Taking a deep breath, you finally asked, “Doesn’t Jeno kind of look like a Samoyed?”

A couple of them seemed concerned for your mental state. The rest pondered your question whole-heartedly, brows furrowed as they studied the model. Jeno had a look of pure bewilderment on his face.

Finally, Haechan gasped, “Oh my God you’re right.”

“Thank you!” You sighed victoriously, looking over at NingNing smugly.

Jisung fervently searched something on his phone, eyes widening in shock, “Now that you’ve said that I can’t unsee it.”

“What? Let me see.” Chenle yanked the phone out of Jisung’s hand, holding a picture of a fluffy white Samoyed up to Jeno’s face.

The model tilted his head to the side in confusion, perfectly mimicking the picture on-screen. Chenle burst into loud, cackling laughter.

“Shit, he-he does!” Renjun declared between his own laughs.

Murmurs of agreement erupted around the table, and you were now fully vindicated. “Thank you! Thank you! NingNing didn’t agree with me so I had to come and—”

“No, I did,” she snickered. “It was just the only way to get you to come back. You’re a whole different person when you think you’re right.”

You tried to glare at her, but you were much too ecstatic at being proven right to really be all that mad.

Jeno looked about to open his mouth as Chenle giggled incessantly and started swiping through more search results of Samoyed pictures. A horrible sense of dread covered you like scalding candle wax. It was hot against your skin, thick, and you felt like you couldn’t move or breathe. You prayed to every deity you could think of that Jeno had a really good sense of humor and wouldn’t take offense to someone he had met twice saying he looked like a dog.

When Jeno’s gaze finally focused on you, you swore you had never wished to turn invisible more in your life than in that moment. Or make time stop. Or wake up and realize it was a dream. Anything to get you out of this situation. But you were absolutely petrified, all excitement from before completely eradicated from your being.

Then suddenly all tension was gone from the air as his eyes crinkled into crescents and his mouth parted wide to let out hearty guffaws.

You looked around in alarm, waiting for the hidden camera to be revealed or something. This couldn’t be real.

He managed to contain his laughter enough to choke out between chuckles, “That’s— that's really, really funny.”

Your wide eyes were focused incredulously on him as he caught his breath. Still with a grin on his face, he continued, “Oh my god, seriously that was fucking funny. I’m a cute Samoyed, right, Y/N?”

Utterly speechless. That’s what you were. And also staring at him, completely dumbfounded.

“I think you broke her, Jeno,” Renjun snickered, reaching a fist out as if he were about to knock on your forehead like a front door.

Instinctually, you smacked his hand away from your head, a scowl overtaking your features, “I’m fine, Renjun.”

“Then why can’t you look him in the eye?”

You pointed to yourself, “Normal person—” then to Jeno, “supermodel. I’m still not used to that.”

But Renjun was right, you couldn’t look Jeno in the eye, and your whole body was practically on fire. Honestly, how were you supposed to react to this situation? With grace and comfort? No way.

“What? Seriously?” Jeno scoffed, standing up from the booth to pointedly sit on your side of it. Directly next to you.

“I’m not that— Y/N, really? You’re actually scooting away from me?”

You hadn’t even realized that you’d shifted the opposite direction from him, pressed into NingNing’s side. Meanwhile, the others were all finding this spectacle absolutely hilarious, sharing annoying snickers and giggles.

Your face was burning, and despite your satisfaction at being vindicated, you were now regretting coming to the club at all.

“Can you guys stop? You don’t have to be so annoying,” Jeno scolded his friends, much to both yours and their surprise.

Haechan had a look of mild offense and disbelief across his face, “Being annoying comes as natural to us as being ridiculously attractive comes to you.”

“Speak for yourself!” Jaemin slapped Haechan’s arm as Chenle was practically howling with laughter.

While they were distracted among themselves, Jeno’s attention was focused back on you. If you could look him in the eye, you’d be able to appreciate the genuine concern held within them. But you couldn’t, so all you could do was hear the genuine concern in his voice as he said quietly, “Sorry about them.”

“You don’t need to apologize for them,” you reassured him, messing with your fingernails.

“Anyway, I can’t stand having you be terrified of me.”

“I’ll get over it,” you cleared the audible squeak out of your throat, “eventually.”

“Eventually...” Jeno didn’t seem satisfied with that qualifier you added at the end. “Are you busy today?”

“Uhm— I don’t know. Why?”

“We should hang out.”

“What?”

“The more you’re around me, the less scary I’m going to be to you. Right?”

“I guess.”

“Then we should start right now.”

Your throat nearly closed up at this suggestion. Especially because you realized that the room was dead silent. The others had ceased their squabbling and side conversations and were awaiting your response to this too.

So you did the thing that came most naturally to you: procrastinated the issue.

“Oh, well, it’s already after midnight—”

“Then tomorrow.”

“I’m going to be super busy for a while, I just got a really big assignment at work—”

“What do you do for work?”

“I’m a journalist. Just got centerfold and it’s going to make or break my whole career so it’s going to take up all of my time for the foreseeable future, so...”

Jeno was unfazed, “What’s the topic?”

“I-uh it’s...” you couldn’t even bullshit an answer at this point, your stupid tongue tripping over itself. “I don’t have one yet.”

NingNing just had to offer up her opinion right then, “Do it on Jeno!”

If you were a lesser person, you'd have strangled NingNing in that moment, because the model’s features lit up. He clearly liked this idea.

“Yeah! I would love to. If it’ll fit your guidelines or whatever, of course.”

You sighed, “It does...”

The socially anxious part of you absolutely hated this idea. But, the journalist part of you knew it was too good of an opportunity to pass up. Gritting your teeth, you managed to look Lee Jeno dead in the eye and say, “I would love to interview you, Jeno. Thank you.”

“Uhm, Jeno?” Jisung speaking up stopped the wide grin that was spreading across his friend’s face. “Aren’t you like, banned from interviews or something?”

“Technically,” Jeno answered dismissively, not breaking eye contact with you.

“Technically?” You echoed in confusion. Were you just being messed with?

“Something… happened with the last in-depth interview I did a while ago,” he admitted sheepishly. “But! I’ll talk to my manager and get it cleared, I promise, Y/N!”

[jeno: manager han gave the okay for the interview! when can we get started?]

Your stomach contorted itself at the message that just popped up on your phone screen. Last night you’d left the lounge with a growing sense of dread and anxiety. And Jeno’s phone number.

[jeno: i have a fitting this afternoon but i'll be done in time to get dinner]

[jeno: if that works for you, of course]

[jeno: we can always start it another day, whatever is good for you!]

[jeno: do you want me to send you my schedule for the next few weeks to make it easier for us to get together?]

Your phone’s continuous buzzing with enthusiastic and sincerely kind messages from him caught the attention of NingNing, whose feet were currently resting on your lap as you shared your couch together.

“When did you get so popular?” She questioned teasingly, peering at you over her own phone screen.

“It's just one person,” you informed her.

“Who texts you that much in a row other than me?”

“Lee Jeno, apparently.”

“Y/N, you seem very unenthusiastic about this,” she declared with a thoughtful frown, completely abandoning her phone. “Isn’t this a really big break for you?”

“I’m still a little shocked,” you admitted. “And scared.”

She shoved you with her foot. “Well at least text him back.”

“Right.”

Not a great idea to leave him on read.

[you: a copy of your schedule would be great]

[you: and yes, i can do dinner tonight]

It was less than a minute later that he replied.

[jeno: here’s my schedule]

[jeno: attached image]

[jeno: and could you give me your address so i can drive you to dinner tonight? the place i have in mind is kind of hard to find if you haven’t been before]

A lot was happening right now. Too much for you to process. Good thing there was another brain in this room to help you process it.

“Hey, NingNIng?” You got her attention before thrusting your phone screen towards her so she could read the texts.

“Uh, three options here.” She pointed to a new finger for each one as she listed them off: “He’s ridiculously excited about this interview; he likes you; or he’s going to kill you.”

“So far the last one seems most likely.”

With a shake of your head, you sent him your address.

Your fingers anxiously tapped along your bouncing knee as you waited on your couch for the text from Jeno that he was here. He told you that the restaurant was just casual, but you weren’t sure that a model’s idea of casual wear was the same as yours.

Jeez, what were you doing? Getting dinner with and interviewing one of the most well-known models in the country? You were so out of your depth here.

A buzz came from your other hand that was tightly gripping your phone. An incoming call from Jeno. Maybe he was calling to cancel, and you could just keep rescheduling until you both gave up on the whole idea and you never showed your face in that VIP lounge again.

Answering it, your voice squeaked as you attempted to give him a casual, “Hello.”

“Hey, Y/N!” The bright voice of Lee Jeno came through your speakers. “I’m just parking now, I’ll be up in a couple minutes.”

“You don’t have to come up!” You told him a little too forcefully and quickly. Having Lee Jeno in your apartment would just be too much.

“I don’t mind—”

You leapt up from your couch and rushed towards your door, “Too late, I’m already on my way down.”

With a sharp hit of your thumb, you hung up. Pressing the down button on the elevator impatiently, you prayed that Jeno would just give up and wait in his car.

He didn’t.

The elevator doors opened to the lobby, with Jeno right outside them. In fact, you nearly slammed right into his chest, but thankfully he took a step back before you could actually collide.

His ‘woah!’ was muffled slightly by the dark face mask over his mouth, accompanying dark baseball somewhat successfully obscuring his identity. As long as you didn’t look too closely, he could be any other guy.

“I told you I’d just come down on my own.” You shook your head at him, eyes trained on your shoes.

“And I told you that I’d come up and get you,” he shot back smugly. “Seems like neither of us listen very well.”

With no response coming from you, Jeno took your silence as the cue to lead the way out to his car. It was nice, nicer than most cars you’d seen around, but surprisingly not that ostentatious. It looked like something a moderately successful businessman would drive, not an A-list model.

Inside was a comfortable leather interior, and you took quick, short notes on the small notepad you kept with you as you looked around. After all, this was an interview, and you had an article to write. You could get over your own social awkwardness and feelings of inferiority for the sake of your future career.

Hopefully.

The restaurant Jeno had chosen was definitely out-of-the way.

It was down one back alley into another, through the back of an electronics shop, up a flight of stairs, then through a room of old ladies sat at sewing machines. They all gave a friendly chorus of hellos to the two of you, seeming to know Jeno pretty well as they all told him that he’d grown since the last time he’d come by. He bowed to them bashfully as he led you through. Past the curtains on the far wall, you finally ended up at the restaurant.

Okay, out-of-the-way was an understatement.

But despite the hard-to-stumble-upon location of the restaurant, it seemed busy. The small room was tightly packed with tables that you could barely see through the mass of people seated around them and plates of food resting atop them. A loud buzz of various conversations mixed in with the bumping of plates and clattering of utensils.

Just past the entrance was a small host’s stand where a young boy stood. He looked to not be out of high school yet, presumably a young relative of the owners: their son, nephew, or grandson.

He also knew Jeno, bowing to him, “Ah, Mr. Lee. We have your reservation for you. Come.”

Jeno bowed back and looked to make sure that you were still following the two of them through the nearly claustrophobic environment.

You were, eyes drinking in every detail as your hand furiously scribbled them down on your notepad, muscle memory functioning at full speed to write every letter without looking away from the scene around you. There was one more curtain for you to go through, and it was much quieter on the other side. This was most likely a VIP section of sorts, with just a couple tables separated by a divider.

The host gestured to one of the two tables, and you gratefully sat down across from Jeno. He then took his hat and mask off, fingers working through his hair for a moment to rid it of the hat’s aftereffects.

“Thank you, Yeonwoo,” he thanked the host, which you repeated as well.

The boy, who you now knew to be named Yeonwoo, bowed politely to the both of you before scurrying off.

“You must come here often,” you commented, hand poised to write his response.

“My family and I came here a lot when I was younger. Since I started my career it’s been difficult to eat here as often as I did before. Especially because their food isn’t technically allowed in my diet,” he had a mischievous glint in his eye as then he added, “But you won’t tell on me, right?”

“Of course not, unless writing an article about you that will be published in a magazine counts as tattling,” you snorted, much to his delight.

He laughed, “Right, right. That’s pretty much the ultimate form of tattling, huh?”

“If it gets published, yeah. If not, then the only people who will know will be you, me, and my editor. And I suppose Yeonwoo and our server, as well.”

“Speaking of our server, there she is!” Jeno announced, making the young girl who was approaching your table blush behind her notepad. She was probably around Yeonwoo’s age, maybe a little older.

“Good evening,” she greeted the two of you politely. “My name is Jieun, I’ll be your server tonight. Are you ready to order?”

You were a bit confused by her question, you hadn’t been given any menus yet. But Jeno seemed completely unfazed.

“Two orders of my regular, please,” he requested sweetly, which she quickly scribbled down on her pad.

“Of course, it’ll be out soon,” she informed you before hurrying away.

He turned back to you, “Jieun is Yeonwoo’s older cousin, their grandparents own the restaurant.”

You added this to your notes as well. It could be nice to add in to set the scene and show how down-to-Earth Jeno was, knowing this family as well as his own and not forgetting his roots even as a big model. Or something like that, you’d figure it out eventually.

“So, interview questions?” He prompted you, bringing you out of your contemplative planning ahead. You’d write that up later.

“Earlier you had mentioned your family, tell me a bit about them. Brothers, sisters?”

Could you have looked that information up online and found it? Definitely, but you wanted it from the source, to see if he would provide you with anything that wasn’t already out there. And you wanted to get a feel of your subject.

“Well there’s my parents, my older sister, and me. They’re not famous or anything. My parents own a grocery store nearby, and my sister’s a teacher.”

“You took my next question right out of my mouth,” you clicked your tongue in teasing disappointment, continuing on with a different one. “You said you used to come here often with your family, what are some other things you miss from your childhood that you don’t do as often?”

Jeno’s face easily betrayed his delighted surprise, “Oh, I wasn’t expecting that one.”

“Hm?”

“That’s a good question. Normally I get asked about celebrity crushes or my ideal type.”

You tilted your head to the side curiously, “If you thought that I was just going to ask you the same questions you usually get asked, why did you offer for me to interview you?”

“Never mind, never mind, sorry.” He coughed awkwardly, then quickly went to get off that topic, “Uh, it might sound kind of weird, but I used to help out at my parents’ store a lot as a kid. It was my first job I ever had. As soon as I could reach the register on a high stool, they put me to work. It’s actually how I got scouted, for modeling. My manager now just happened to come through my line while I was on the register and gave me his card. I thought it was a scam, honestly. But Jaemin made me give him a call, and he turned out to be legit. Even if I had the time to help at the store now, I’d just be too much of a distraction if I tried. And trust me, I tried. Once. So yeah, I miss helping out there.”

The desire for an answer to your other question was still there, but it was a path that you didn’t want to go down right now. Right now was time for the interview. So you simply scratched down his statement about his parents’ shop, then shorthanded off to the side ‘why me?’ as you readied your next question.

“You knew Jaemin before you guys were famous?”

“Yeah, we’ve been friends forever.” A fond smile crossed Jeno’s face. “Seatmates since primary school. He blew up with streaming first before I got my break as a model, actually. Most people usually assume it’s the other way around.”

“And what about the others?”

As Jeno eagerly answered your questions and you filled up page after page on your notepad, there was still that one lingering in the back of your mind.

Why you?

Over the course of a couple weeks, you’d spent a considerable amount of time with Jeno. According to his schedule that he had sent you, every free moment he got was taken up by your interview. Sometimes it would be more formal, like your first dinner meeting, and sometimes it was more casual, get-togethers in the lounge with the other VIP members or a riverside walk that felt more like two friends talking than a professional interview. And it all went in your notes, it would all go in your article. This was going to be a great article. The real Lee Jeno when he’s relaxed, what he’s like off the runway.

Today was very special, however, as you’d been invited to tag along to one of his photoshoots. You were just outside the building housed at the address you’d been given when you were met by a young man whose stern gaze never left you. It seemed as if he had been waiting for you.

“Are you the journalist?” He asked with a raised eyebrow, completely skipping any greetings.

“Ah yes, Y/L/N Y/N,” you confirmed, nodding your head respectfully to him as you held out your VIP lounge card as proof. Jeno told you that would be your pass to get in.

The man only scrutinized the card for a moment before he pivoted on his heel, “Follow me.”

You kept his hurried pace easily, ready to ask him questions as well, “So what’s your job here?”

He took a moment to push open a door that then nearly closed on you before answering, “I’m Lee Jeno’s PA.”

“Oh, Song Eunseok!” The name easily came to your mind.

The PA’s eyes widened in surprise, “Jeno’s brought me up?”

“Of course he has! You’re with him pretty much all the time, how could he not mention you?” You flipped through your notebook to where you’d taken previous notes about him, “Here, I asked him to walk me through his typical day, and he mentioned ‘Seokkie’ like seven times.”

Eunseok physically grimaced at this, “I’ve requested that he not call me that.”

“Why? I think it’s a cute nickname.”

“Really?” His eyes were now trained on his shoes as opposed to his previous laser focus on the end of the hallway. Your eyes could’ve been playing tricks on you, but you swore the tips of his ears were tinged pink, too.

There was another door, and this time you definitely couldn’t miss the fact that he held it open for you this time.

“Really,” you echoed.

The door had led to what you could really only imagine to be the set. Huge lightboxes, a couple cameras, and a multitude of people all set up with a single black sheet as the focal point. A white loveseat contrasted it starkly, but that wasn’t where your eyes were drawn. They were drawn to the man seated elegantly atop it, dressed head-to-toe like the playboy prince of a small but filthy rich country. Lee Jeno.

“You can wait for him over here with me,” Eunseok tapped your elbow with a feather-light touch, snapping you from your near-trance.

“Thanks.” You walked with him towards a table lined with various food and drink.

Your focus was still on the PA as he got a bottle of water, opened it, took a lemon slice from a small bowl and squeezed it into the drink before plopping a blue straw in as well. Then didn’t drink it. Instead, he turned back to you and held it in his hand patiently.

“The straw disturbs the makeup as little as possible,” Eunseok explained to you, and it was then that you realized it wasn’t for him, it was for Jeno. “Makes the makeup artists’ lives a little bit easier.”

“That’s very considerate. I wouldn’t have even thought of that,” you commented, taking note of that process as your focus returned back to Jeno and the photoshoot.

Knowing that your next question might be considered disrespectful, you leaned closer to Eunseok to whisper, “So who’s the photographer?”

He understood your delicacy, replying back equally quiet, “Chen Man, she’s brilliant. Jeno’s worked with her in the past, but this is his first solo shoot with her. It’s for the new YSL campaign that he was chosen to be the face of.”

And you were rocketed back to the fact that Lee Jeno was a famous model. Obviously, you hadn’t really forgotten it, but in your casual meetings and interviewing outside of his work, the magnitude of it was lessened. But a PA, giant photoshoot, famous photographer, and being selected as the new face of a campaign for a huge designer really hammered in the famous model part.

“Wow.”

It was just then that Chen Man called for a short break, and the silent studio was immediately filled with chatter. Jeno made a beeline for you and Eunseok, his normal contagious grin across his face, “Hey, Y/N! I’m glad you made it here okay.”

Up close, you could appreciate the detail and regality of his outfit. It was made of crushed velvet of a deep cerulean color; various intricate medals flashing on his chest; dark epaulettes making his already broad shoulders even more imposing; large black boots; and silver jewelry and chains glinting on his fingers and neck.

Eunseok offered the water out to Jeno then, and he accepted it gratefully, “Thanks, Eunseok.”

You continued from the model’s earlier statement, “Yeah, Eunseok made sure I got to the right place.”

“Good, I sent him out there to get you.” He turned on his PA, “You didn’t give Y/N a hard time, did you?”

“My job is to make sure none of your insane fans somehow get in here,” the other man scoffed.

“So you did give her a hard time.”

Eunseok rolled his eyes at Jeno’s teasing words. Despite knowing that they were employer-employee, it felt much more like two friends to you. You added that to your notes.

Jeno took a couple big sips of his water, and you took this time to ask him a couple of questions.

“So Eunseok was saying that this shoot is for the new YSL campaign that you’re the face of. Have you ever done something like this before?”

He blinked at you a couple times before actually replying, “Yeah, it’s really an honor and a big opportunity to be chosen for this. I’ve done solo shoots before, but not ones of this magnitude.”

Another figure approached your small group, a makeup artist. Jeno handed his water back to Eunseok before leading the way a little further away to sit in a chair. As the makeup artist attended to his makeup, you continued with the interview.

“How familiar are you with the photographer on this shoot?”

“I’ve worked with Chen Man a few times before—” he paused to let the makeup artist apply his lip color again. After she was done, he continued, “Her ideas are incredible and she’s honestly so wonderful to work with. However, all those other times I was with other models, so doing a solo photoshoot with her is a bit nerve-wracking. She’s the kind of person that you really want to make proud, you know?”

Thinking of Ms. Zhang and her disappointment in you earlier, you nodded, “Yeah, I know.”

There was a call for everyone to start getting back into their places, and you took this as your cue to leave Jeno alone. He had work to do.

The makeup artist did one touch up on his face before letting him up out of the chair, another person coming to his side to fix his hair up just the way they wanted it, walking alongside him awkwardly to do so.

“Take a bunch of notes on your little notepad, Y/N!” Jeno quipped as he walked back in front of the camera.

“Will do!” You affirmed, holding your notebook above your head and shaking it slightly so he could see it.

Returning to your previous spot off to the side with Eunseok, you had a fond smile on your lips from your short interaction with Jeno. Eunseok had a little smirk of his own as he gazed at you.

“And what’s that smile for?” You questioned, head tilted.

“Nothing.”

You elbowed him with a short giggle, “Come on, tell me.”

“No,” he shook his head, that same smile on his lips.

Even as you rolled your eyes, your focus never faltered from Eunseok. You changed tactics, a slight pout on your face as you asked again, “Please, Seokkie?”

Finally, he relented, “You’re pretty special, Y/N.”

“What?” You questioned in pleasant surprise.

“For Manager Han to have approved this interview after what happened last time, Jeno probably begged.”

“I can't imagine what would be so special about me.”

Eunseok had a brightness to his features that you hadn’t seen yet as he replied, “I can.”

You raised an eyebrow, “And what is it?”

Shouts from the set took both your attentions away from each other. Chen Man had been calling directions out during the whole shoot, but never with such aggression as then.

“Jeno! Lee Jeno!”

You scanned the scene in front of you as you tried to figure out what exactly was happening. Jeno’s arms were crossed across his chest, a startlingly stern but calm gaze focused on… you?

“Jeno can you—ugh, fifteen-minute break, everybody!” She yelled out in exasperation, the rest of the crew breaking the silence, scattering from the set.

Chen Man continued addressing her model, “Jeno, your expressions… they’re off.”

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll work on them.”

Despite acknowledging her words, you were doubtful of if he had actually registered them, stalking off the set with seemingly one destination in mind.

“Y/N,” Jeno stopped right by you and Eunseok. “Can I speak with you for a second?”

“Of course,” you nodded, well aware of how the crew was only pretending to be busy, instead actually focused on the three of you.

Your subject took off again, and you guessed that he anticipated that you’d follow him. Which you did. Eunseok stayed behind.

His longer legs made it a little hard to keep up with him as he took twists and turns down hallways of the building.

“Jeno,” you breathed out, seeming to finally snap him out of whatever mood he had been in.

Immediately, he slowed down to your pace, a faint smile coming to his lips, “Sorry, long legs.”

“Where are we going?”

He abruptly stopped, “Here is fine.”

It was the middle of some random hallway. He apparently didn’t have an actual destination in mind, more-so a distance.

“So what do you need to talk to me about?” You questioned, pencil and notepad at the ready. It had to be something for the interview, it couldn’t possibly be anything else.

“Y/N…” Jeno reached his hands out to cover yours, gently lowering the pencil and notepad for you. His hands were big and warm on yours, and you felt nerves flare up at his clear insinuation that this wasn’t for the interview.

“Jeno…” you said back with a nervous half-giggle. He was still holding your hands.

“This isn’t part of the interview. I’m not interviewee Jeno, and you’re not interviewer Y/N right now.”

“Okay…”

As soon as you had accepted these terms, he released his feather-light hold on your hands and took his own back to wring them nervously. What could Lee Jeno possibly be nervous about?

“Hm, I’ve never done this before,” he chuckled, pressing a palm to the center of his chest.

“Done what?”

“Okay, I’m just going to be upfront. Uh, I think you’re super great, and pretty, and awesome and I’d really like to be able to take you out on a date some time.”

This had to be a fucking joke. No way that someone who looks like him, an actual model, someone who gets paid for being ridiculously attractive, could actually be asking you out. This had to be a sick, terrible, horrible joke he was playing on you.

And yet as his big brown eyes gazed at you, wide and hopeful, looking a lot like a puppy waiting to be adopted from some animal shelter, you knew that he was being genuine.

And you panicked.

Stuttering for a moment, you finally choked out the most formal and emotionally removed response you could’ve come up with, “I’m sorry, I—that wouldn’t be appropriate, since I’m interviewing you right now. A bias or conflict of interest would damage the integrity of my piece as well as my career.”

Surprisingly, his features didn’t seem as crestfallen as you anticipated, his expressions were always so easy to read. He, in fact, seemed very happy with your reply.

“I get it,” he beamed at you, giving your hand a reassuring squeeze for a moment before letting it go. “After the article, then.”

That wasn’t what you meant. At all. But between your own burning cheeks and internal state of panic, you couldn’t express this to him. Or even really process your own thoughts right then.

“We should head back, Eunseok will come looking for us soon,” Jeno nodded with his head back in the general direction that you two had come from.

He kept a polite distance from you, allowing some of the panic alarms blaring in your mind to quiet just a bit. You tried to brainstorm ways you could possibly keep this interview going forever. Ways to give you as much time as possible. To do what, exactly? Maybe come up with an actual way of rejecting him. Or maybe give him enough time to change his romantic focus to someone else, so that he would never end up revisiting this subject after the interview.

You could dream.

“Oh my god!” NingNing exclaimed. “Are you shitting me?!”

You’d just recalled your day to your roommate, finally ending at the part where Jeno had asked you on a date. She had literally done a spit-take back into her soda as she smacked your leg in excitement.

Despite still being in disbelief yourself, Jeno had been extremely up-front and clear about it. No room for misinterpretation. Unlike your response to him.

“Well when’s the date?” NingNing squealed, pressing for more information.

“I said no,” you deadpanned.

“What?”

“Well, kind of.”

At the clear grimace on your face, your friend sighed, “Y/N, what did you tell him? Verbatim.”

“I told him that it would be inappropriate right now because a bias or conflict of interest would ruin the integrity of my piece and any career opportunity that came out of it,” you repeated your statement from earlier almost word-for-word, sure that it would be burned into your memory for the rest of your life.

“You do know that he now definitely thinks that you were telling him to just wait until after the article is over, right?”

“Yeah, that’s what I was afraid of,” you groaned, dropping your head into your hands and rubbing your face in exasperation.

“You don’t want to go on a date with Jeno?”

“I don’t want to date Lee Jeno,” you confirmed, nodding the head that you were still holding.

“Let me just review the situation here: you’ve got a very sweet, very funny, very hot guy that’s into you. What’s the problem?”

“He’s hot.”

Finally, you’d found it. The real reason you’d said no, the real reason you had a deep pit of dread in your stomach as soon as the words had left Jeno’s mouth hours earlier.

She snorted, “That’s a problem?”

“His entire career is based off being hot, he’s a model,” you explained rather desperately, relieved to finally be able to put your tumultuous thoughts into proper words. “I can’t deal with all that shit that comes with it. I just can’t.”

“So you’ll never want to date him? You’re not going to change your mind?”

“No, never. I couldn’t.”

“Never say never,” NingNing taunted with a sing-song voice, but at your eye-roll, became more serious. “Okay, let’s just say you’ll never date Jeno in your life—despite the fact that nothing is ever definite—you shouldn’t lead him on. Intentional or otherwise. Don’t let him spend the next few weeks thinking that you two are going to date after the article’s over.”

The anxiety was still there, however. “What if he doesn’t actually think that and I just misunderstood him? What if he just naturally gets over me in the next few weeks and doesn’t need me to confront him about this and straight-up reject him? He’s probably never been rejected in his life, what if he doesn’t take it well? What—”

She cut your endless strings of ‘what if’s short, “Y/N, didn’t he say that he’d never done this before?”

Realization hit you straight to the gut. “What if me rejecting him makes him never want to ask anybody else out again for the rest of his life and I scar him permanently?”

Your roommate had a clear look of ‘yikes’ on her face, and pure mortification ran through every inch of you.

“Never mind, there’s no way I could ever have such an impact on Lee Jeno’s life, that’s fucking ridiculous. I’m just some normal person, some journalist, and he’s literally a supermodel. No way this would actually matter to someone like that.”

“Y/N, don’t say stuff like that,” NingNing frowned, pulling some hair away from your face gently. “You matter to me, remember? You’re my best friend.”

Completely ignoring her, you continued, “I just have to be upfront with him, tell him I don’t want to go on a date with him, and be done with it. He’ll probably never think about it again for the rest of his life.”

She let out a sigh as if she were going to say something but thought better of it. You didn’t press her; your mind had been made up.

You couldn’t do it.

The next time you saw Jeno, you had every intention of being upfront. But you couldn’t bring yourself to do it. You were an absolute coward. Some part of you didn’t want to tell him, for whatever reason.

Maybe because the way his face absolutely lit up when he saw you was something you’d never seen anybody do for you before. Maybe because he asked you how your day was and didn’t look disinterested in your answer. Maybe because no matter how hard you tried to tell yourself that this was a professional interview, he made you feel so at ease that you somehow talked more about yourself than him.

Maybe because you did kind of want to date him.

Your notebook had been completely abandoned about fifteen minutes into your ‘lunch meeting,’ a fact that went mostly unnoticed by you. Until the waiter came with the bill and you had to move it out of the way for him to set it on the tabletop. You’d written just a couple short notes, nothing substantial. That wasn’t an interview, you couldn’t even try to bullshit it to yourself. That was a date-but-not-a-date. And you enjoyed yourself.

As you contemplated over your mostly-blank page, Jeno had already tucked his own card into the pouch and waved the waiter back over. Before you could argue him paying for you, the waiter was halfway across the restaurant.

“Jeno, I can pay for my own food,” you reminded him gently, feeling very much like you were scolding an over-excited puppy that had accidentally knocked over a potted plant in its haste to greet you.

“And I can pay for both of ours,” he countered.

You held his gaze firmly, waiting for him to— there it was.

His mouth split into a sheepish grin as he held up his hands in surrender, “Alright, I get it, I get it. Interview time right now. We’ll split the check for now.”

For now.

Maybe you liked the idea of that.

“Except this one, since they already ran my card,” Jeno added, a victorious smirk on his face, one that had you shaking your head fondly.

“Can I at least tip?”

“Already added that on the receipt.”

“How dare you be so thoughtful and respectful.”

He seemed about ready to quip something back when a distant chorus of squeals cut him off. You took a cursory glance around, eyes landing on a group of teenage girls standing just outside the window that you were seated by. They weren’t uncomfortably close, but it was clear what had made them so excited.

Jeno ducked his head shyly as he raised a hand to acknowledge them, only setting their nervous titters off again. Maybe he should have left his mask and hat on, or not chosen a table by the window.

And your heart dropped as you were once again reminded of who exactly the man in front of you was. Not just some cute guy named Lee Jeno, but a model who was known internationally, with fans who would recognize him out and about, with a career and life that was under the public gaze constantly.

You couldn’t do that. You couldn’t subject yourself to that. It would be too much for you.

With the girls still watching the two of you, you collected your notepad and stood up, stiffly bowing to him. “Thank you for allowing me to interview you, Mr. Lee.”

Thankfully, he took your lead, standing and returning your bow, “Of course, thank you as well, Ms. Y/L/N.”

Hopefully the girls got the message that this was business and nothing else. A dating rumor with Lee Jeno was absolutely the one thing you did not need in your life. Lee Jeno was absolutely the one thing you did not need in your life.

The light hum that had been in Ms. Zhang’s throat through most of her reading of your article suddenly changed tone as she came to the ending. Her brow furrowed thoughtfully, and your mind was running wild with nerves as you waited for her to speak.

“It’s good, Y/N,” she started.

You sensed a ‘but’ coming next.

“But… in the very first paragraph you introduce him as model by day, and explorer by night, or something to that effect.”

“Yes, that’s how he and his friends introduced him.”

“But you never bring up his ‘exploring’ again. This is about his life as a model and what he’s like outside of modelling here. You hooked me on the exploring part, but left me ultimately unsatisfied with that point.”

She was right. She was absolutely right. In your own personal whirlwind of confusion about your emotions and wants, you’d left a loose end in your article.

Ms. Zhang continued, her tone rising, “But…”

Oh, another ‘but.’

“This might just be perfect for a sequel. We publish this and advertise it as a two-part look into him, the first part his model by day, and the second part all about him as an explorer.”

You were caught off-guard, “You want to publish it?”

You had honestly expected her to throw it in the trash and fire you. You’d been so all over the place the entire time you’d been working on the article, you didn’t think it was anywhere close to your best work.

“Of course, this is the most hard-hitting and real piece that’s ever been done about the man! Most of it is tabloid nonsense. Not to mention that this is the first interview he’s done in over a year, it’s fresh content. It’s perfect, Y/N.”

Ms. Zhang just called your article perfect. You were on Cloud Nine, barely listening as she continued.

“Do you think you’ll be able to get a second interview with him? Maybe even tag along on one of his exploring trips or something, like how you went to one of his photoshoots in this one?”

That snapped you back into reality. Going on a trip with Jeno? That sounded dicey. But… also a chance to extend the interview, prolong the inevitable: his expectation that you’ll start dating after the interview. Your worst fear.

Avoiding an uncomfortable scenario and making your career out of it? It was an opportunity you couldn’t pass up.

“Of course, Ms. Zhang.”

Right as you walked into the VIP lounge, you were met with the expectant face of Jeno. You’d agreed to meet him there on your lunch break, right after your morning meeting with Ms. Zhang, to let him know if she was going to move forward with publishing your article or not. It felt a bit weird being at a nightclub in the middle of the day in your work clothes, but it was one of the more private places to meet with him.

“So?” He asked hopefully. “How’d it go?”

“She’s going to publish it,” you breathed out, still in shock yourself.

Two strong arms were suddenly around you, pulling you into a warm chest that was practically vibrating with excitement.

“Oh my god!” Jeno hugged you tightly. “Congrats, Y/N! I’m so proud of you!”

You hugged him back for a moment, enjoying it more than you should have considering you swore up and down that you weren’t going to let yourself date him. Then you remembered the other half of the conversation, your arms going limp.

“And she wants a second part.”

“That’s great!” He exclaimed, then after another moment, it seemed to have dawned on him. “Oh wait.”

And he let go of you, a particular chill coming to your body as he took a step back from you, declaring, “Professionalism. No bias or conflict of interest.”

You felt bad. You felt so bad. And yet you nodded, “Yeah, it’s still going to have to be like that.”

Maybe forever, if you could swing it just right.

“So… a second part about what, exactly? The article was super great, but I’m not sure how I could be interesting enough for a sequel.”

“Your ‘exploring,’” you explained. “I had mentioned it, but never returned to the topic or expanded on it, so she wants this whole second part to be about your trips and you know… all that stuff. Whatever you get up to when you’re not a model, and when you’re not a regular dude here.”

A rather cheeky grin spread across his face at this, and you didn’t want to know why he was so excited about you not dating, because you had a feeling it would be something awful close to it.

“Well then, what better way to get to know Explorer Jeno than coming with me on my trip to a tropical island next week?”

You were taken aback by both the invite but also by the event itself. After all, Jeno had given you his entire schedule for the past two months, which included next week. And you didn’t remember a trip being anywhere on there.

“Since when have you been going to a tropical island next week?” You asked incredulously.

“Since now.”

You sighed, rubbing your face. “Jeno, you can’t drop everything in your life just to do this. I can wait until whenever your next actual scheduled break is for whatever trip you make then.”

“Yeah, but I can’t wait,” he insisted, a near pout across his features. He pulled his phone out of his back pocket, half-mumbling to himself, “I’m calling my manager right now. He owes me vacation days anyway, I’ll just take them early. Make my three-week backpacking trip in Europe next year fifteen days instead. I can’t wait.”

That went straight to your heart, and you felt your chest hurt from the implications of that. He couldn’t wait until he could date you. With every passing moment you felt like a more and more terrible human being. Which you were, you absolutely were just a horrible human being for doing this to him. After all, like you’d said, you were never going to date Lee Jeno.

Right?

One week later and you were in your third airport of the trip, your second layover as you waited for your connecting flight. You’d been in interviewer mode since Jeno had picked you up to head to the first airport that morning. Asking questions, writing answers, asking more questions. There was no room for anything but business on this trip. This article would be the follow-up to your first piece that your boss thought was perfect. So this had to be more perfect than perfect. You wanted to make her proud.

Jeno, surprisingly, was being rather professional too. Other than the slight touch here, an odd phrase there that couldn’t exactly be classified as professional. A brush of your hands as he tried to get your attention, off-handed comment about how cute you were when you were focused taking notes. You’d only remind him that this was a professional article, hoping that he couldn’t see the bashful smile on your lips.

Or even now, he returned from what was supposed to be a quick bathroom break with waters and snacks for the both of you.

“How much do I owe you?” You asked as you accepted the food and drink.

“Nothing.”

You frowned.

“Come on, Y/N,” he sighed in exasperation, cracking open his own water bottle. “I know we’re serious professional interviewing here, but two people doing business together can still be friendly and do nice gestures for each other.”

He was right. He was absolutely right. You were being a jerk for no reason. Well, not for no reason. There was a small voice in your head that hoped that maybe if you pushed him away enough now he would change his mind about wanting to date you, that he’d think you were actually a jerk. And that little voice was apparently wrong. And also a piece of shit. Jeno didn’t deserve that.

“Right, sorry,” you shook your grumpy face off, offering him a smile instead. “Thanks, Jeno.”

He pulled down his face mask to be able to drink the water, and that combined with his inconspicuous baseball cap brought back the idea that he was a famous celebrity who had to cover up his appearance when he went out to avoid being detected. Even in some random foreign country you didn’t know the name of on a layover. If you did actually start dating him, would he have to wear those on your dates? Any time you wanted to spend time together in public? Would you have to start wearing them?

Those were ridiculous thoughts, especially because you were never going to date Lee Jeno.

Right?

On the plane, you halted the interview to allow the two of you to both take naps, already feeling the toll of the heavy travelling you’d done today. And you’d be doing even more soon, as this flight wouldn’t even take you to the island directly, you had to take a ferry from a different island’s airport out to the actual island that was your destination. Then a car ride of some sort from the harbor to wherever you were staying. And based off the clothes Jeno had requested you bring, you’d be getting very in touch with nature on this trip, another exhausting idea.

All for an interview. All for a way to avoid the inevitable.

As you snoozed, not quite asleep yet, you felt Jeno slowly shift in his sleep, his head lolling to the side until it finally found a resting place on your shoulder. Even in his sleep this man completely disregarded professionalism.

But you were too tired to complain, soon falling asleep yourself, with your own head rolling until it finally found a resting place on his.

“So what exactly happened at your last interview that was so bad you were banned from them?”

Your questions continued as soon as you’d left the airport on the island, only halting when you were caught off-guard by Jeno’s choice of transportation: a cream yellow moped. Which you were now on the back of, clinging onto your bag for dear life. Thank God you had packed light like he suggested.

“It’s kind of a long story,” he replied loudly over the wind. “I’ll tell you when we get to the hotel, okay?”

“Fine.”

“We’ve got some tighter turns coming up, you might want to hold on to something actually attached to the moped.”

He didn’t say it, but you knew what he meant. Wrapping your arms around his torso, you then held onto him for dear life as he whipped around the turns. How he could possibly make a moped feel dangerous was truly incredible to you.

“Yeah, that—” he stumbled over a voice crack. “That’s good. Much more secure.”

“This question shouldn’t be a long story: Have you ever driven one of these things before?”

The hotel was small and homey, with so few rooms that the two of you would be sharing one. Jeno had already informed you of that beforehand, having asked for the okay from you, that sharing the room wouldn’t be too unprofessional. While it definitely was, there were no other rooms available, so you were stuck between a rock and a hard place. When he informed you that there were two beds, you finally agreed.

Except it wasn’t two beds, as you found out when you walked in. It was a bed and a pull-out couch. And he’d already claimed the pull-out couch for himself.

“Jeno,” you sighed again as you watched him set his stuff down on the less comfortable option. “This isn’t two beds.”

He shrugged, “We have separate places to sleep, that’s what you were worried about, right?”

Your patience was wearing thin. It was almost annoying how sweet he was. Well, it wasn’t really him being sweet that annoyed you. It was the sneaky ways he liked to do it.

“Jeno…” you repeated his name, trailing off as you waited for him acknowledge you.

He was still messing around with setting up the pull-out couch.

“Jeno, look at me.”

At your request, he immediately did so, the attentiveness catching you off-guard for a moment. But you were determined.

“I don’t like being lied to or tricked. Even if it’s something nice, you know? It’s sweet, but I like to make my own decisions about things. Even things that may seem little to you, like splitting the bill at restaurants, or whether you’re coming up to get me or I’m going down to meet you, or you dropping all your plans to go on some spur-of-the-moment trip, or who’s taking the couch and who’s taking the bed. I’d like a say in the matter, okay?”

He gulped, seeming to really be taking his time to mull over what you were saying. And you did, too. It was another reason that you could never date him. He was a celebrity, he was used to being able to do whatever, to not having to worry about the kinds of things normal people like you had to worry about. The implications of that terrified you. You couldn’t do it.

Finally, he said, “Okay, yeah. I understand. I never really saw it like that, I’m sorry. I should’ve been more thoughtful of how it was making you feel. I’m really sorry, Y/N.”

Shit, this dude was way too fucking sweet.

You nodded, mumbling some kind of response to the genuine apology he’d given you.

Clearly as eager to change the topic as you, Jeno spoke up, “So, what was it that you’d asked me on the moped earlier?”

And you were more than happy to revisit that, snatching up your notebook from your bag and sitting on the bed, “What happened at your last interview that caused you to be banned from them?”

“Oh, right,” he physically grimaced at this, rubbing his face with his hands for a moment. “It’s a long story, don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

“I’ve got plenty of paper.”

Jeno let out a sigh, sitting on the pull-out couch. “No, Y/N. I can tell you, but you can’t write it down, you can’t publish it. I’m sorry to have to ask you this, because I know how dedicated you are to the integrity of your work but… if you’re going to publish it, I can’t tell you. I’m sorry. The others don’t even know the whole story. Jaemin doesn’t know.”

His words struck you differently, hearing the genuine defeat and distress in his voice. With a twinging heart, you tucked your notepad and pencil back into your bag. For someone who had been preaching about professionalism and keeping the integrity of your article, you were really so ready to throw it out for him as soon as he asked, weren’t you?

“I won’t write it down, I won’t tell a soul,” you reassured him, wanting nothing more than to sit down next to him and hold his hand and tell him that everything was okay. But you still clung onto some little semblance of professionalism here. For some fucking reason, when it was getting clearer by the minute that all your resistance would be futile.

Just a glimmer of a smile was across his lips for a moment at your actions before it was taken over by the same pensive face as before, and he started the story.

“It was… oh probably over a year ago now. I was still kind of new to the modelling industry, but it felt like everyone’s eyes were on me. My company toted me around as their rising star and every second I wasn’t at a gig, I was being interviewed by someone. It was a lot, but it was freaking awesome.”

The brightness in his features that had been there as he recalled the earlier days of his career suddenly turned dark at his next words. “Until this one interview. It was for a smaller magazine, and my manager didn’t even know why I wanted to do the interview. But it was a magazine that my mom liked to read, and I wanted her to be able to see her son in it. So I sat down with the interviewer, and it felt like it was going like all my other interviews had gone. And maybe because I wanted to really make a good impression on her, so the article my mom read would be as positive as possible, I accidentally led her on or something like that.”

You tilted your head curiously at this last statement. If it had come from any other hot guy, you might have doubted his actual intentions, but it was Jeno. You knew that he wasn’t only physically attractive but had such a way of being naturally charming and making people feel at ease that it was impossible not to be drawn in by his attractive personality. He didn’t do it on purpose, he was just a genuinely nice guy.

“But afterwards, she asked for my number. I said no. I let her down as easy as I could, and she took it with grace. Or I had thought so until Manager Han and the CEO of my company—who I had never met until this—sat me down in his office and showed me a naked picture of some guy and asked if it was me. You couldn’t see his face, and his build was similar to mine, so I could see how they were doubtful. It wasn’t me, but that didn’t matter. The interviewer had sent those pictures to my company saying that if they didn’t pay her a bunch of money, she would post them online saying they were of me.”

Your eyes widened almost comically at this. You couldn’t believe that someone could actually think of doing something like that, especially to Jeno.

“Now, the company doesn’t take very well to people trying to extort them or threaten their people, so she was taken care of.” After a pause, his eyes shot open comically wide as he shook his head fervently, “Legally, in the legal system, it’s not like my company like killed her or anything, I phrased that very badly.”

A quiet laugh came from your mouth at his backpedaling.

“Anyway, they decided that after that, it would be best for me to not do interviews for a while. I don’t really know what happened to her after the court case, but to my knowledge, she hasn’t bothered us. And I haven’t had an interview since. Until you.”

“Until me,” you echoed, mind reeling from this story.

This interview really meant more to Jeno than you had realized before. You’d incorrectly and selfishly assumed that he was so invested in it just because he liked you. But it was more than that. His last interview had been a disaster, the interviewer threatened to humiliate him publicly, and betrayed him. He had taken a chance on you to be different than that, taken a chance to make you his first interview back after the shit the last one had put him through. You were sure that he was feeling the pressure from his company to make it the best possible return to them ever. And he had entrusted it all with you.

You weren’t sure of how long you’d been sitting in silence for, but it started suffocating you, so you finally choked out, “I’m sorry she did that to you. She’s… a bitch.”

Jeno chuckled, “I guess. I kind of just feel bad for her.”

“I don’t,” you snorted, feeling your blood starting to boil as you thought about it even more. “She tried to ruin your career and reputation because she got rejected. It’s not your fault, Jeno. You didn’t do anything to deserve that. She’s just a bitch.”

While he didn’t outright agree with you, the faint smile on his features was still apparent as he went to stand up, forcing some pep into his tone. “Okay, time for some island exploring. After all, you’re here for Explorer Jeno, right?”

“Right!”

Right?

Being on the island was refreshing. Not only because you’d never been on a trip to a place quite like it before, but just everything felt absolutely perfect. It was the perfect temperature outside, the warm sun being balanced out by a cool breeze that blew through your hair, the water surrounding you was the perfect clear blue, the flora the perfect rich green, and the man with you was… perfect.

You’d given up on trying to keep your fond thoughts of Jeno at bay. He was wonderful, that was undeniable. And as you went around the island together, his baseball cap and face mask left behind in the hotel room, the notion of his fame slipped from your mind. Sure, you were still writing down your observations, small adventures, and pertinent questions you asked him. But you weren’t interviewing Famous Supermodel Jeno right now, you were interviewing Explorer Jeno. And he was someone you could let yourself fall for, even for just a few days on this little island.

After your third day on the island as you signed onto the hotel wifi to transcribe your notes from your notebook to your word document on your laptop, a few email notifications popped up, catching your attention. Reception wasn’t the best, and you had so many other things occupying your focus and time—mainly Jeno—that you rarely checked your phone. Not to mention that before you’d left, you were unsure of if you’d even have cell phone service on the island, so you’d told your friends to email you if they needed anything.

One was an email from NingNing, the short preview of her message that you could see making you shake your head. You were not on a romantic getaway with Jeno.

The next was some flyer from a store advertising their latest sale, which you quickly discarded in favor of opening the one from Ms. Zhang. The person who was literally paying for you to be there right then.

The gist of her email was basically just asking for a status update, a routine check-in to see how your research and interview was coming along. You filled her in on what kind of direction and outline you were thinking of for the article, telling her some of the things you’d done together around the island, framing it as professionally as you could. However, it was very hard to make it business-like, you realized in slight defeat as you reread the email draft to yourself. Maybe you could make it casual-business-friendly-sounding instead. After editing a couple phrases here and there, you read it one more time. Satisfied that you’d made it sound the least like a ‘romantic getaway’ as possible, you hit send.

You had just sent it when Jeno emerged from the bathroom, fully clothed and toweling off his wet hair.

When the two of you had gotten back from wandering the streets and seeing the nightlife of the town, you’d given him first shower of the night, wanting to sort out your notes as soon as possible. You had a lot to move over just from that night alone, especially the moment when Jeno was ordering something from an older street vendor and had suddenly busted out some local dialect he’d picked up from God knows where. And the man knew what he was saying too. Jeno never ceased to amaze you.

“Jeno,” you called his name out from where you sat cross-legged on the bed, laptop with the email still up in front of you.

“Hm?” He hummed in acknowledgement, abandoning his towel in order to run his fingers through his damp hair.

“The way the guys had described your exploring, and the stuff you’d told me to bring made me think it’d be more… rugged than this.”

A handsome, crooked grin split his lips, seeming very delighted at your observation, “And what did the guys tell you?”

“Jaemin and Renjun seemed fearful for my life and told me to be safe; Haechan and Chenle were rather ecstatic and told me to have fun in a tone that made me not want to know their implications; Mark told me to bring plenty of water and a first aid kit; and Jisung… well he didn’t actually say anything but his face said it all.”

“You talked to all the guys about the trip?”

“Not by choice, NingNing brought me to an influencer party with Jisung, Jaemin, and Renjun the other day, and I was summoned to the lounge by Chenle and subsequently ambushed by him, Haechan, and Mark about it.”

“They’re all menaces,” Jeno shook his head fondly. “But don’t worry, I’ve got some plans for us tomorrow.”

“That sounds ominous.”

He giggled.

“So we’re hiking to the top of this volcano?” You summarized what Jeno had just told you, in much fewer words.

“Yep!”

“Then camping near the top, which we may or may not be allowed to do.”

“Yep!”

“Without a guide.”

“I’m your guide, Y/N! I do this kind of stuff all the time, and there’s a trail to follow anyway.”

“Now I know why Jaemin and Renjun feared for my life.”

“They were being dramatic, it’ll be fine.”

“Oh I’m not protesting going, I’ll just make sure to type up my will in the notes app in my phone first.”

“Now you’re being dramatic.”

You laughed, putting your hands up in surrender, “Alright, alright. I won’t write my final will and testament right now.”

“Let’s go!”

Thankfully, you’d taken heed of Mark’s advice to bring extra water. With the amount you were sweating, you would’ve been dehydrated less than an hour in if you weren’t constantly replenishing the lost fluids. It wasn’t an incredibly strenuous or difficult hike. Not a casual stroll, but you were managing. It was just that it was so hot and humid now that you were in the more confined landscape of the trees, you couldn’t tell if more of the moisture was your own sweat or the water hanging in the air and clinging to your skin as you continued through it.

Jeno kept you plenty entertained with stories of his previous (mis)adventures, almost all of which were solo. There were a couple times that he brought along others, but they didn’t go great. One unfortunate happenstance was when he’d dragged Eunseok out white water rafting with him and the poor guy fell out of the raft into freezing cold water. According to Jeno, his PA almost quit right on the spot. Another time, the other VIP lounge members had joined him as a celebration trip after Renjun hit 10 million subscribers. They ran out of water on the second day, Chenle ended up spraining his ankle, and they were ready to commit mutiny before the 48-hour mark, so the trip was concluded early.

“Jeno, it sounds like the people who go exploring with you don’t have a great track record of enjoying themselves,” you pointed out, taking another swig of water.

“Are you enjoying yourself, Y/N?” He countered.

Looking around, you could just make out a peek of blue ocean through the trees, and looking ahead of you, the two of you were more than halfway to the top.

“Yeah, I am. So far. There’s still time for me to sprain my ankle or fall into a freezing river.”

He shook his head affectionately at your teasing, “Careful, you’re going to jinx yourself.”

“Old hiking superstition? If you talk about spraining your ankle you will?”

“No, but still. My own little superstition, I guess.”

“Got it. Then I’ll un-jinx myself: I will not sprain my ankle or fall into a freezing river on this trip,” you announced loudly to the surrounding forest, earning another fond smile from Jeno accompanied by a soft chuckle.

“There you go.”

“Another five minutes or so and we’ll be at the peak!” Jeno yelled back over his shoulder to you excitedly.

You were a few steps behind him, your legs had been complaining for the greater part of the last thirty minutes. But with this information, you felt reinvigorated, having the end so close bringing a new spark of energy to your tired limbs. You caught up to him, sharing the trail at the wider parts and staying just behind him at the narrower parts.

Finally, you were at the top. And you knew because the trees opened up to a clearing, the leaves and branches giving way to the most incredible sights you could’ve imagined.

“Wow,” you breathed out, turning to get the full view.

From here you could see the whole little town below you, other nearby islands, the forest you had just hiked through, and the vast, glistening blue sea surrounding you. The sun bounced off of the water at the perfect angle to make it look like it was made of diamonds. It was breathtaking. Not to mention that now that you were out of the humid forest, you could once again feel the cool breeze across your heated skin.

A pod of dolphins surfaced briefly, their fins dipping up and down between the calm waves.

“Jeno, dolphins!” You pointed them out to him eagerly, instinctually clutching his arm in excitement. “Did you know that dolphins in the Amazon River are pink because of repeated skin abrasion, and that the males are pinker because they have a lot more interspecies aggression?”

“I think my guide told me something like that, but I was too focused on getting my paddle back from one to really listen to him.”

You turned to him with wide eyes. “You’ve seen them?”

“Yeah, I went to the Amazon last summer. I had to wrestle my paddle back from a rather playful one,” he shrugged, as if it was just a casual little day trip or something. “So you really like dolphins?”

“I did a report for school when I was like 11, some of the info just stuck.”

As you kept watching the dolphins, a smaller one popped up in the middle of the pod. “Oh! A baby! It’s so cute!”

“Yeah, she is,” he agreed with you.

You furrowed your brows in confusion. “You can’t tell it’s a girl from here!”

Then you looked over at him, realizing that his focus wasn’t on the dolphins, but on you. Mumbling something about professionalism, you let go of his arm, clasping your hands in front of you as you awkwardly looked back out to the sea.

With a victorious smirk on his face—probably enjoying the fact that he was able to fluster you—Jeno took a few steps away from you, yanking his knapsack off his back and grabbing a blanket from it, “Time for a late lunch.”

He laid the blanket out on a flatter part of the terrain, then brought out a small assortment of foods. You sat down with him, eager to dig into the food. With how much your legs hurt from hiking up here, you hadn’t realized that you were starving until he mentioned lunch. Your stomach growled angrily, and you just hoped it wasn’t loud enough for him to hear.

Jeno had packed a very nice lunch for you to share. For the most part, you two were quiet, mouths full of food and eyes still drinking in the stunning view of where you were. You turned your phone on to snap a few pictures before shutting it off again. With no charging ports out here, you had to conserve the battery until you were back in the hotel.

“Do you know which island that is?” You asked Jeno, pointing to the one that seemed the closest to you.

“Nope.”

“That one?” You pointed to a different one.

“Nope.”

“This one?” You teasingly pointed at the ground you were sitting on.

Jeno raised an eyebrow. “Do you?”

Right as you had opened your mouth to say something smartassy back, you pursed your lips in defeat. “Uh, nope.”

He chuckled, capping his water and starting to put the trash and leftover food back into his bag. You followed his lead, standing when he did so he could pack the blanket back up too. Stretching, a few satisfying cracks came from your back, letting go of the tension that had built up from your sitting position that probably wasn’t great for your spine.

“We should head down to the campsite soon,” Jeno informed you quietly as you had gone back to watching the ocean.

He’d told you while you were still at the base that you wouldn’t be camping at the peak, but at another area a little further down the mountain that was a lot safer for sleeping on. You wished you could’ve stayed up here for the rest of your life.

“Can’t we stay and watch the sunset?” Your voice was nearly a soft whine as you resisted leaving so soon. “It’s got to be incredible from up here.”

“I’m sure it is,” he sounded very reluctant to be telling you this. “But we have to set up camp before it gets too dark.”

“A couple more minutes?”

“Yeah, of course.”

After being rather useless in helping Jeno set up your campsite—not for any chivalrous reasons on his part, you were truly just inept at things and did more harm than good when you tried to help—you sat outside the tent with him. The two of you were going to be sharing a tent, which he had asked earlier if that would be okay. You told him it was fine with you.

The blanket previously used for lunch earlier was under the two of you as you sat just outside the tent. The site Jeno had chosen as your campsite was in a rare area where the foliage wasn’t too thick, and you could just make out some of the ocean as the sun set. It wasn’t the picture-perfect sunset you imagined could be seen from the peak, but it was still pretty.

You continued with your interview questions as you looked out towards the water, scrawling down his answers in the fading light. You couldn’t quite see what you were writing, hoping you didn’t just make a bunch of illegible scribbles instead of notes. He spoke again of his trip to the Amazon, saying how he’d like to go back again sometime, and maybe have a better look at the pink river dolphins. The way he said it fostered some implications, a thought in your mid that maybe you could go with him if he did go back. That was a nice thought. And impractical one, but it gave you warm fuzzies nonetheless.

“So, why do you think you like exploring so much?” You asked him after hearing so many stories of all the destinations he’d gone to.

“Who doesn’t like to travel?”

“What you do… it’s not just travelling, it’s not just a vacation. You’re not booked up in five stars hotels in city centers or doing every tacky tourist thing out there. You get at the heart of where you are, you explore it, you don’t just visit it. Why is that?”

“That’s a rather deep question,” he let out a light chuckle, shifting to face you as he closed his eyes, taking a moment to think. “I guess… like you said, I try to get at the heart of the place, not the surface-level stuff everyone else sees. I’ve always had a sort of wanderlust in me. When I was about twelve, I damn near gave my mom a heart attack because I got on a train and wanted to see where it went and ended up fifty miles from home. And now, I don’t know, I guess the stuff everybody else does doesn’t really interest me… the picture that’s painted to tourists of a place isn’t what it actually is, and I want to find out what is. If that makes sense. Did that make sense?”

You swallowed hard, nodding fervently. “Yeah, it did. I completely understand, yeah.”

That’s how he saw the world, and it was beautiful. And maybe you could see it like him; maybe you could look past the picture that’s painted and what everyone else sees to get at the heart.

Up this high, cold started setting in some time long after the sun had finished setting and darkness was all around you, save for the soft glow of the lantern Jeno had going. The temperature wouldn’t drop terribly, but it was cooler than it was during the day, encouraging you to tuck your chilly fingers into the inside of your knees for some warmth.

“I’m sorry,” Jeno frowned, standing up and stepping over to the tent. “I forgot to tell you to bring a jacket, didn’t I?”

“I’m alright, Jeno,” you assured him, but his arm popped back out of the tent holding a couple pieces of clothing.

It was two sweaters, one he offered out to you, the other presumably for himself. You didn’t refuse, which maybe you really should have for professionalism’s sake. Slipping the hoodie over your head then sticking your arms in, you were immediately swallowed up by it. Sure, Jeno was pretty buff, but you were sure this would be oversized even on him.

You didn’t even have to try to pull the sleeves over your hands, sweater paws already there as soon as you’d put it on. Which wasn’t ideal if you wanted to keep writing stuff down for the article.

“I would’ve told you that I’m a human space heater, but I figured this was a little more professional,” he said, heavy implications there.

Butterflies fluttered around in your stomach as you took it upon yourself to scoot closer to him until your legs and sides were touching, “This is still professional, just two professionals huddling together for warmth.”

“Yeah.”

You were trying to convince yourself more than you were him, knowing that you couldn’t really fool yourself on this one. But damn, you could pretend you did.

It was pretty soon after he’d gotten sweaters for the two of you that Jeno interjected into your conversation, “So when is the article technically over? When you’re done writing it? When your boss okays it? When it’s compiled with the other articles in that issue of the journal? When the copies hit the shelves and its uploaded to the website?”

You let out a shallow breath, knowing what he was really asking. When can the two of you date?

The part of you that was saying ‘never!’ was getting smaller and smaller, and the part of you who just wanted it to be right now was growing bigger and bigger. And yet, for some reason, you were still listening to the little one.

“I don’t know, probably when it’s officially published. You know, when ‘the copies hit the shelves and it’s uploaded to the website.’”

“When do you think that will be?”

“The first one is being published in this month’s issue. So, depending on how fast I get this one written up and proofed, at the earliest next month.”

“And the latest?”

“A couple months. I’m not sure how long Ms. Zhang will want between the two, if she wants to leave the audience in suspense for longer or give them the next part as soon as possible. Probably the first one, if I’m being honest.”

“Oh,” Jeno’s pout that you could see illuminated from the lantern was suddenly split into a wide yawn. “We should go to sleep, we’ve got the climb back down tomorrow.”

You were glad that he had brought it up first. After all, you were pretty tired, but you weren’t about to be the one to end the nice time you were having. Nodding, you stood, taking the lantern in your hand as Jeno folded the blanket back up.

Ducking into the tent, you immediately plopped down onto your sleeping bag, giving Jeno as much room as possible to maneuver his limbs around as he zipped the tent up behind him and set his stuff down in the corner. You put the lantern down at your feet, keeping the area illuminated as you climbed into your sleeping bag and started settling in for the night.

With the covers pulled up to your shoulders and Jeno’s hoodie bunching around your face in a comfortably warm way, you were pretty content to fall asleep then and there. But the light was still on.

Groaning, you looked down towards your feet, glaring at the lantern you knew you’d have to get un-comfy to turn off. Jeno had a small smile on his face as he sat up, “I’ll get it. You ready to turn it off?”

You nodded, your ‘yes’ muffled by the hoodie.

The last thing you saw before complete darkness was Jeno’s soft grin. That was a rather nice image to have in your mind as you drifted off to sleep.

Eyes fluttering awake, the first thing you were aware of was that you were warm. Very warm. Way too warm. One might say that you were currently in a pool of your own sweat. You’d have to wash this hoodie before giving it back to Jeno, it was definitely disgusting.

Speaking of Jeno, he wasn’t in the tent with you, which you noticed as you peeled the somewhat damp sweater off yourself. You took the opportunity to apply some more deodorant and change your short sleeve shirt before shoving your feet back into your shoes. You headed out of the tent, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes as you did so.

The very last traces of the sunrise were still in the sky from the little that you could see, but it was definitely morning. Looking around, you spotted Jeno standing a little further away from the tent, holding his hand out towards a lower-hanging branch. You wouldn’t have quite been able to reach it yourself, but he could. Perched atop the branch was a bright blue bird, eating right out of his hand. Your eyes widened just a little at this, though you were too tired to be terribly surprised.

Watching him feed the bird for a little longer, you felt your chest swell. His hair was messy, not having fixed his bedhead yet; a peaceful hint of a smile tugged at the corner of his mouth; his big, round, eyes watched the bird eat with a certain simple happiness that for some reason had tears threatening to well up in your own.

You opened your mouth to call out to him, but instead a hoarse croak came out, one that made the bird take off in a flurry of blue feathers and fear. Jeno’s head whipped around to look at the source of the noise, you, and a bright grin came to his features.

“Morning, Y/N,” his voice was even deeper from sleep as he greeted you. He didn’t even seem mad that you’d scared off the bird.

As he approached you, the swell in your chest continued to the point where it hurt, and your vision started going blurry from the tears building up. Jeno’s expression changed to one of concern as he seemed to notice your moist eyes the closer that he got.

“Wh—”

You’d finally gone insane, you’d decided. Absolutely bonkers, completely crazy. After all, how else would you explain the fact that you were now kissing Jeno?

With your hands gripping at his shirt to bring his mouth down to yours, you kissed him like you’d been sick for your whole life and his lips were the cure. All the voices in your head finally shut up, your chest decompressed, and a single tear ran down your face.

He immediately kissed you back, but his hands seemed unsure of what to do, gingerly resting on your arms, featherlight as they hovered there. As if he was afraid that he’d break you, despite the force with which you had crashed your mouth to his.

When you let yourself come back down—and also breathe—you loosened your grip on Jeno’s shirt, releasing him from the slightly hunched position he had been in. Slowly, you brought one of your hands down to wipe away the lone tear.

Jeno was looking at you with a tilted head. “Well, that wasn’t very professional.”

A strangled chuckle escaped your mouth as you fiddled with the hem of your shirt, “Yeah, sorry.”

“No, don’t apologize,” he said softly, a gentle hand coming to cup your cheek, urging you to look back up at him. And when you did, he lightly brushed his lips against yours. A tender ghost of a kiss, one that didn’t last long as Jeno ended it almost as soon as he’d started it.

Opening your eyes, you saw a nearly silly grin spread across his face, precious giggles bubbling up. His smile was contagious, one gracing your mouth as well.

“Is this going to ruin the integrity of your article?” He asked, still smiling down at you. “If you want this to be a thing, of course.”

“I do, I do,” you nodded fervently, a great weight lifted off your soul now that you let yourself admit that. “I’ll tell Ms. Zhang and see what she wants to do about the articles. Until then, we’ve got to lay low.”

“Movie nights,” he immediately surmised.

Quite liking the idea, you agreed, “Yeah, movie nights.”

The doors opened to the VIP lounge, where you had agreed to meet Jeno after your meeting with your boss. It was almost two weeks after you’d returned from what NingNing was now definitely referring to as your ���romantic getaway,’ which you couldn’t argue. Most of those two weeks was spent by you finalizing your second article, not wanting to tell Ms. Zhang about how that trip had really gone until after you had work to show for it.

Jeno was waiting for you, already standing up and pacing the small room nervously. He seemed more worried about this than you were, despite it really being your career on the line and not his.

You made a beeline to wrap your arms around his torso, burying your face in his chest, and he immediately reciprocated it, holding you closely and pecking the crown of your head.

“Hey, how’d it go?” His gentle tone of voice betrayed his assumptions that it was bad.

Bringing your face out of his chest in order to look up at him, you squealed, “She’s still going to publish them!”

“Ah!” He cried out, tightening his grip on you until it was practically bone-crushing. “I knew it! I knew you were just so good she would have to publish your articles.”

You elaborated, practically buzzing with excitement, “Because I kept out the uh, more private details of the trip and focused on you and the trip itself, she says that it ties up the loose end from the first one nicely. Although, she did recommend not going public until after the second article was out.”

“But you won’t get fired if we don’t abide by that recommendation, right?”

“No, I won’t,” you reassured him, happiness fluttering in your chest as he pecked your forehead.

“I’m so proud of you, Y/N.”

“Mhm,” you hummed, letting him peck your lips too before you spoke up. “I do think she’s right, though, we should wait a while to go out in public as a couple.”

Jeno clearly didn’t like that idea, sighing in reply, “Why?”

“It’s been less than a month, what if you decide you don’t like me?”

It was meant to be a joke, but he took it seriously, kissing your forehead, then your nose, then finally your mouth, “Impossible.”

After a moment, he relented, “Alright. I waited two months, another one or so shouldn’t be that bad.”

“Actually, she’s publishing the second article in a special edition that’ll come out two weeks after the first, not a month.”

“I can wait three weeks.”

And wait three weeks he did. Three weeks exactly. Twenty-one days after your conversation in the VIP lounge, two days after your second article hit the shelves, Jeno picked you up for your first public date. This time, you let him come up and get you—your roommate wasn’t home to bother you—and he left his hat and face mask at home.

“Hi Jeno,” you greeted him as you opened the door.

“Hi, baby,” he replied, wasting no time in lacing your fingers together as you walked to the elevator.

As soon as you stepped foot out of your apartment building, whatever resolve he had broke down, and he smooched your cheek loudly. You giggled at the gesture, squeezing his hand to let him know that you were okay with it. After all, you’d made the poor guy wait longer than he should have, some PDA was in order.

The date was at a small café a few blocks over, within walking distance. Which you were sure Jeno appreciated, having a longer time to be out in public with you, never once letting go of your hand or without physical contact with you. He had to let everybody know that you were dating, and you didn’t mind. You liked that he was so ecstatic to be dating you.

At the café, you ordered up at a front counter, and the cashier asked, “Together or separate?”

“Together!” Jeno replied brightly, wrapping an arm around your shoulders.

You leaned over to murmur to him, “She means, are we paying together or separate?”

“Together!” He repeated.

Squinting up at him for a moment, you didn’t argue it, letting him take the check for both of you. Although you did take a few crumpled bills out of your wallet to drop into the tip jar. After getting your food, you eagerly dug in, a light and amicable conversation had between bites.

“So you really waited exactly three weeks, huh?” You teased him.

“The second article came out two days ago, I think that’s plenty of time for everyone to read it,” he defended himself.

“It took you five days to read it.”

He seemed about ready to quip something back when a muffled chorus of squeals cut him off. You took a brief glance around, eyes landing on a group of teenage girls standing just outside the window that you were seated by. They weren’t uncomfortably close, but it was clear what had made them so excited.

Jeno ducked his head shyly as he raised a hand to acknowledge them, only setting their nervous titters off again. This situation was eerily familiar, déjà vu washing over you.

But this time, you were kind of glad that he had left his mask and hat at home, and that he’d chosen a table by the window.

Because your heart soared as you were once again reminded of who exactly the man in front of you was. Not just a model who was known internationally, with fans who would recognize him out and about, with a career and life that was under the public gaze constantly, but also a cute, sweet, funny guy named Lee Jeno.

You could do that. You could subject yourself to that. It would be fine as long as you had Jeno with you.

With the girls still watching the two of you, you reached a hand out across the table towards him. Thankfully, he took your lead, picking it up before pressing a few tender kisses to your fingers. Hopefully the girls got the message that this was romantic and private, and nothing else.

A dating rumor with Lee Jeno was absolutely the one thing you needed in your life. Lee Jeno was absolutely the one thing you needed in your life.

“Jeno?” You called for his attention, ignoring the gaggle of fans outside the window.

“Yes?” He focused on you, squeezing your hand.

“I have a question…”

“I thought the interview was over,” he pouted teasingly.

“It is, I swear.” You lifted your linked hands pointedly. “I just… There’s something that’s kind of been nagging at me, about the interview.”

“Ask away.”

“Why me? Like, I remember at our first interview session, you thought I was just going to ask you all the normal stuff about celebrity crushes and stuff.”

“You remember what I said, about my parents’ shop? How I used to help out there?”

“Yeah, of course.”

“When NingNing brought you to the lounge, and you said that thing about you being a normal person, and me being a supermodel, and how you weren’t comfortable around me because of that, it really hit me. I-I really hated that.”

“Jeno, I’m sorry—”

“No, it’s not your fault,” he insisted. “It’s nobody’s fault, that’s just how it is, how our culture is, or whatever. But I hated that you felt like that around me. Because I didn’t use to be like that. I used to be a normal person, too. And I just thought that if you and I had met a few years ago, when I was working in my parents’ shop or something, I could’ve talked to you like a normal guy, and I would’ve been able to put you at ease and flirt with you like a normal person. Instead of having to do it in the most roundabout way like I did this time.”

You grinned. “Oh, I don’t know, you would’ve still been a stupidly attractive register boy, Jeno. I might’ve been a bit tongue-tied if we had met back then, too.”

“I guess we’ll never know, will we?”

“I guess not,” you clicked your tongue. “Though that would’ve been an even better meet-cute than me saying you looked like a dog.”

“Oh, so we’re not telling that story to our kids?”

“Kids?!” You sputtered out. “When did kids enter the equation here, Lee Jeno?”

“What? Who said that?” He blinked at you innocently.

“At least say the L-word first, jeez.”

“I love you.”

“Christ, I was joking!”

“I wasn’t!”

You shook your head, unable to fight off the smitten grin on your lips. “I love you too, Jeno. You crazy son of a bitch.”

⤷ blog masterlist

[literaryvein-reblogs]

Writing Notes: Plot

Rick Riordan's Writing Tips

Rick Riordan:

How I craft plot has changed radically over the years. With BIG RED TEQUILA, I did very little plotting in advance. I simply began writing, then went back later and tied up all the loose ends, of which there were plenty. With each successive novel, I've done more outlining in advance. Strangely, this has made writing no easier — it's only made the process harder in different ways. My attitude about plot and how one develops effective pacing is evolving, but below are five points I stand by:

RICK RIORDAN'S TOP 5 TIPS ON PLOT

Don't write the parts the reader would skip anyway.

I'm paraphrasing the great Elmore Leonard here.

Most readers, from time to time, have skipped over portions of a chapter to get to the "good stuff."

For instance, many readers will skip a long paragraph of description so they can find the next line of dialog.

One trick for keeping the reader's interest is to zoom in on the content they want to see and leave out the rest.

Writers, especially beginning writers, tend to over-explain.

Distinguish between mystery and confusion.

It is good to keep the reader guessing.

It is bad to keep the reader confused.

The key to successful plotting is giving the reader sufficient information to keep them interested and engaged, but not so much information that they no longer care about what will happen next.

The plot should be built in layers of compelling questions –

"What will he do?"

"What is his secret?"

"Why does she hate him so much?"

The reader should always have at least one question in mind, and be dying to find out the answer.

Get going!

Beginning writers tend to believe that they must "set things up" before they get into the real meat of the novel.

They want to introduce characters, history, and setting before they start on the central dilemma.

Chapter one is often limp, because of this.

Even worse, some writers are so hesitant to get to the point in chapter one that they put off the action even further by writing a prologue.

The problem is, until we know the dilemma, we won't care about the set-up. Get to the point!

Often manuscripts are better if they start with chapter 2, as Lawrence Block once rightly pointed out.

Identify the moral dilemma driving the novel.

The successful novel will haunt a reader because it deals with some ethical or moral dilemma that makes the reader wonder what he or she would do in the protagonist's place.

Action may hold a reader for a chapter.

A surface dilemma like a kidnapping or a romance may hold the reader for fifty pages or more, but only a moral dilemma will hold the reader for an entire novel.

The protagonist must exert influence to solve the problem, and the antagonist must exert influence to stop the solution.

The book must be about conscious choices, carried out in active terms.

It must be about conflict.

A book about random events happening to passive people will not be compelling.

Coincidence is taboo – things can't just happen.

There must be a cause and effect.

Source ⚜ Writing Notes & References

[parttimetomfooler]

Lets talk about narrative framing in Harry Potter and how it lends itself to what I live to call the Regulus vs James vs Snape debate, aka the "why does the fandom praise Regulus and James but hate Snape, it's because they're hot isn't it?" issue.

I'm trying to come at this with a neutral perspective (despite being what many would frame as a Regulus defender).

So narrative framing, what is it? It's exactly what is sounds like; how the narrative is telling you to view something. A great example of this is house elves. They are narratively framed as a net positive, however, when you take them out of the narrative and inspect them without all of the unnecessary context, they're pretty bad. The narrative also does this with characters (obviously), like Cho Chang being framed as annoying for crying over her boyfriend who was brutally murdered. When we look at this, we are looking at it through the lens of Harry, but when we look at without Harry's motives in mind, that shit is weird.

So, how does this apply here? Well, I think the reason that Snape is so hated is cut into two parts; the first being narrative framing and the second being screen time. He is in every book. And in every book, he's being an asshole. He's bullying someone who is half or even a third of his age, or he's being speciesist, or he's being a general nuisance. A lot of his coworkers don't even like him. Of course, our lens isn't unbiased as we see all this through Harry's view, but Harry, narratively, is one of the good guys, making him someone we as the reader are supposed to trust. Also, we do know that whether or not they were influenced by Harry's POV, he did some foul shit: we know that he used to be (and maybe still is, for most of the series) a DE, we know that he tells his students Lupin is a werewolf, and we also know he hates James Potter, Sirius Black, Remus Lupin (obviously), Harry Potter himself, and, I may be assuming here but, Peter Pettigrew. All but one of these characters are framed positively in the narrative, meaning Snape isn't just narratively hated; he is up against some of the most beloved characters. There is not a lot going for him until the plot twist, which doesn't help necessarily. To a lot of fans it just made him seem obsessive and bitter, and didn't justify his actions, likely because of all the narrative framing against him. Honestly, at that point it stops being narrative framing and starts being the narrative.

Compare this to James and Regulus who we see very little of. The little we see of James is usually through Snapes memory, which I guess can kind of be considered an unbiased source, but with all the narrative against him it's hard to expect readers to trust that someone the bad guy thinks is bad is really that bad. Not to mention like right after Harry asks for affirmation that his dad wasn't terrible, and Sirius basically just goes "he changed, trust me bro!" (Harry does indeed trust him, bro). And we don't even see Regulus, we only see him through others, namely Sirius and Kreacher, who both answer questions about him scarcely. When we do hear about him it is either, "he was so soft, too soft to disobey our parents" implying something in him was good, he just wasn't strong enough to resist the bad, or through his defiance of Voldemort which, despite setting Harry back is positive for his character and how he's seen. It's important to note most people are way too scary to defy Voldemort, so this is seen as a radical act, which I think is also what JK. Molding was hoping for when writing the Snape redemption scene (because that was not an arc).

However, Snape's falls flat because we actually have to see the negative that he did, we see how it effects Neville, and Hermione, and Remus and even Harry. We don't see the bad of Regulus, we only see him through the tender wounds of his living relative and only friend, which are undoubtedly biased lenses. I think the lack of accountability shown for Regulus is because of object permanence. We only see the negative effect of his loss, not of his bad decisions. We see Sirius scrubbing a house clean of everyone but him. We see grief. And people don't grieve for bad people, right?

TLDR: Fandom favors Reg over Snape because we see how Snape's actions effect people, and the fandom favors James over Snape because the only evidence we have of him being a bad guy is coming from someone untrustowrothy.

[thechekhov]

Hey Chekhov! How do you start converting an AU idea from character sheets and mini comics into a plot outline for a full, continuous comic? Especially if the series you're basing it on isn't complete?

I've been following your white diamond Steven comics for years, and frankly, I love how it builds and continues the scaffolding canon laid to be something that is thematically still the same but also very unique. And I never thought I'll ever say this, but now I'm working on a canon-divergent AU with someone that's I think aiming to do something similar(continue the themes of canon but different). So I'll just like some advice, I suppose!

You might've answered something like this before, honestly, but I tried to dig a little and couldn't really find it.

Thanks, if you do answer this! I just want take the opportunity as well to say also that your comic and blog accompanied me through parts of my late teens, and I'm very grateful for you being a stabilizing influence during that time.

Thank you! I really appreciate you saying that, and I appreciate you respecting me enough to ask for advice.

As for your question...

Well, to be frank, I don't START with character sheets and mini-comics. In fact, for WD!AU, I didn't have any character sheets until I started season 2.

Think of your story as an aquarium. Your characters are fish.

Yes, they're important, but having a whole bunch of fish without any substrate, tanks, feed and WATER..... will not really make for a memorable aquarium experience.

The reality is that all stories should start with an end.

That's my personal approach, anyway.

What I mean is - you need to know the general idea for your story before you begin to write or plan it.

Let's try this:

1.Tell me about your story in THREE sentences!

Just three. Not long ones, just regular ones.

For my AU, @ask-whitepearl-and-steven, it would be:

"A young orphan runs away from home with a mysterious lady who seems more cryptid than human. He realizes that he's not human either - he used to be the ruler of an alien planet! He and the other aliens he meets decide to (REDACTED) (REDACTED) (REDACTED) and he (REDACTED) (REDACTED) (READACTED) (READ ANDCTED) (READ AND FIND OUT)."

YOU should know how YOUR story ends too! Even vaguely.

It helps if you know at what point you plan to lay down the pencil. Because if you DO know, you are always going to know which direction to walk in, even if the end is so far away it's beyond your line of sight.

It's true that when I began WDAU, I didn't have much information about White Diamond and white Pearl, because they had literally ONLY been introduced. I had to guess a lot of the details (like WP being Pink's originally) and what White would be capable of. And thankfully, my original intent for the story's end fit pretty well with what was later revealed!

But don't forget - you could also just fuck around with stuff! It's your story, after all.

And don't forget... to also look back!

2.Tell me WHY the story is happening in the first place.

There's a reason that the beginning of your story happens when it does. If there is no reason to start somewhere, then find a different place to start.

You should be able to tell me "We're picking up the story here because something significant has happened... and that significant thing happened BECAUSE...."

That 'because' is your main background information that should be revealed slowly throughout the story. In WDAU's case, we only have a few pieces of the puzzle. We know Greg's side. He know Earl's side. But there are still little bits and pieces missing! And they're all important for finding out WHY Steven ended up an orphan and WHY he is being followed by White Pearl (Earl) at the very start of the comic!

3.Tell me what the coolest and most interesting things to happen would be....and then write them!

I think this may be something that's rarely said out loud, but I will speak on the behalf of the people...

We should write the scenes we want to read. If you don't want to read the scene you're writing, then DON'T write it!

If you feel like you "have to" do a page and a half of 'lore' because you think it's traditional to have that 'explanation' about the location of your story, or the history of the species or whatever, you're simply wrong. There are other ways to reveal information aside from just forced paragraphs upon paragraphs of information that would make an SAT Reading Section sweat.

Instead, I recommend that you find the most exciting or hilarious way for the characters to discover the most important bits of info. Find a dramatic twist. Shove it into the narrative. Then, figure out what needs to happen to get there.

Ultimately, though, remember this: When you're taking advice from me or from others, don't forget to take advice from yourself, too! It's your story, after all. You know it best, and only YOU can figure out how to get it written.

I hope that helps at least a little bit! Writing it never easy, but it should still be enjoyable!

[bibliophilesince2003]

The Bad Batch

Here's a little theory for you to mull over; I sincerely wonder whether I am alone in thinking this. I could also be heavily exhausted over and influenced by the papers I had to polish off for some of my college courses, or perhaps motivated by the fact that I am re-watching The Bad Batch because most modern shows these days, in my opinion, disappoint. At any rate, here it is.

Why do we like the Bad Batch so much? What makes them relatable and/or realistic?

Upon meeting Omega, most of the Bad Batch behave in a very dad-like manner. This is not surprising, no. Plenty of memes and incorrect quotes have stemmed from this simple observation. They don't have all the answers and they don't know what to do with Omega half the time. That's the thing about dads... usually, they're just "winging it" and trying to do their best. Moms come with a built-in instinct to nurture. Dads come with a built-in instinct to protect and lead. Sometimes, dads aren't quite sure what to do with a crying infant or a struggling teenager.

Let's not forget... Hunter and the others are soldiers. That isn't to say they can't be kind or gentle; even the toughest men have their weak points. As a military brat, though, I have noticed that such a profession can mold a man, and at times they forget to "turn off" their seriousness when at home after having dealt with extremely hard situations. I really appreciate that the producers of this show didn't change Hunter and the others just to make them more approachable from Omega's standpoint. If they do change, it's gradual.

Do Hunter and the others think about the consequences of bringing Omega into their lives? *eyeballs toothpick man* With exceptions, of course. Well, until season three. The answer? Absolutely not. They believe they have the strength and ability to keep her safe, as most dads would. They believe they will always have that strength and ability. Let me break it down for you and give you a look into the brain of a dad:

Dad: *involved in a dangerous situation*

Dad: I can do that.

Dad: *remembers their child is with them*

Dad: Oh. Well, I guess becomes a life lesson. I've got you, kid. Just... don't tell your mom.

Dad: *keeps an eye out for anything suspicious*

Kid: *perfectly content*

I've heard it said that dads don't say "I love you" but show they love you. I personally have experienced both, but given the seriousness of most dads... I can see how that would be the case. At the very least, their actions speak louder than words. The Bad Batch are very much this way towards Omega. They put their lives on the line. They want to make her happy. Wrecker assembles a spot for Omega to call her own on the Marauder. Tech grabs her before an explosion can reach them. Echo has hugged Omega the most. Hunter is usually within three feet of Omega at all times.

The subtle gestures of kindness captivated all our hearts, I know.

Why?

It's Star Wars, a fictional universe. It's not complete fiction, though. Hunter and the others represent a specific kind of love. Fathers may be cautious and unsure at first, but eventually they want the kid by their side for everything. We've all seen the videos of dads using infants as pretend machine guns or making them dance, the kid's neck rolling lazily. Gently, of course. If they can't protect the kid from everything, they use themselves as a shield, which extends to good mothers, too, though that's not what this post is about.

Hunter and the others may be soldiers, but they embody the very spirit of fatherhood. This was such a wonderful theme to see develop despite the grittiness and action.

Phew, I feel like there was more I wanted to say, but I'm tired, so you're spared from more rambling.

[from-the-coffee-shop-in-edoras]

May I get your thoughts, opinions, and ideas on Èowyn's reaction to the situation she found in with Grima? Do you think it was at all possible that Théodred and/or Éomer, realizing the danger she was specifically in, tried to send her away someplace safer, away from Edoras, and she said no because she refused to leave them and her Uncle? I don't think it was discussed extensively in the book how it all went down in the decline of Théoden's health and household, but I know you've thought about it. Would you be willing to share your headcanons? 😊

Personally I know Grima is a creep with considerable influence, but I've also had trouble thinking of Èowyn has a caged bird with zero power surrounding her own fate. True, she was limited in what she could do and in how people perceived her, but I could never see her as helpless. I always thought she was more trapped in her own depression and discontentment. 🤷‍♀️ Grima would certainly never have been able to physically overpower her. Was the danger to her really just that her loved ones might be stripped away from her?

Again I guess I just have a hard time thinking of Théodred and Èomer not keeping a closer watch over her and taking extra steps to keep her safe, if they realized that she was a target.

Sorry for the rambling! 😂 I know you can explain your own thoughts in a more organized way that I do!

My answer to this got MUCH longer than I expected. I found that I had to kind of walk through it systematically to make it (hopefully) clear, and that made it very long. Sorry!! 😬 (Also, this answer is all rooted in the books, not films.)

As in most situations in life, I think the dynamics here are nuanced, complicated and sometimes contradictory. It would have been much more straightforward if all Éowyn had to worry about was herself, if she (or others) had the unfettered freedom to act in accordance with what was best for her, and if there weren’t social/cultural expectations that worked against her interests. But that wasn’t the deal at the time.

As a threshold matter, I 100% agree that I cannot see Éowyn as helpless and weak, because we know she wasn’t. She was smart, strong, trained to fight and incredibly brave. If Gríma had eventually tried to cross some invisible line that she had devised for herself, there’s no way he could have physically overpowered her without significant outside help. But even though I think she could have flattened him in a one-on-one fight, I don’t think that advantage would have helped her much in her day to day life, because hurting or killing him wasn’t a realistic way to deal with the threat he posed.

When we meet him, Gríma has quite a lot of power. He has Théoden’s clear support (not obtained through clean means, but he has it nonetheless), and he operates with the king’s authority, uses his resources and issues orders in his name. To mess with Gríma, then, is to mess with the will of the king, and that’s illegal and even treasonous. If you take that step, it could mean severe punishment, including imprisonment or death. And being a member of the royal family wouldn’t necessarily protect you from that (see: Éomer getting unceremoniously jailed later in the story). So I don’t find it surprising that Éowyn (or others) would not have chosen to take on Gríma directly at the time of the story, given that it still wasn’t entirely clear exactly how evil his larger plan was and he hadn’t yet acted on his designs on her beyond being a super creepy perv who watched and followed her.

But if she couldn’t get away with harming or threatening Gríma, why didn’t she just flee instead? This is less clear but there are several potential explanations. For one, she may not have seen that as possible. If it was Théoden’s expectation that she be his nursemaid, then again, she can’t just ignore the will of her king. We don’t explicitly know if that’s the case, but he certainly didn’t seem to consider literally anyone else as a possible substitute for the care she gave (definitely not one of the boys!!). Also, let’s not forget Gandalf’s words from the Houses of Healing, where he questions whether Gríma only spoke poison into the ears of Théoden. If he instead also filled Éowyn’s mind with despairing, hopeless thoughts, he might have caused her to believe that she was irrevocably trapped. Given how desperately unhappy and imperiled she was, it seems plausible that she would have tried to run if she could, and the fact that she didn’t may suggest that she literally couldn’t or at least didn’t think that she could.

But let’s say she could have left and perceived herself as having that choice. There are still numerous reasons why she might have stayed. As you note, she presumably loved Théoden as an uncle and surrogate father and showed him a lot of loyalty and devotion. She would hardly be the first person to knowingly and willingly keep themselves in a position of danger, vulnerability and unhappiness out of concern for someone who would be left behind if they fled. So, that’s also very plausible.

Even if she had no personal affection for Théoden, though, it’s possible that she’d have been reluctant to leave him anyway. It’s worth remembering that Théodred and Éomer didn’t live in Edoras — they were based in Helm’s Deep and Aldburg, respectively, and the urgent press of duties there often kept them away. So Éowyn was the only member of the royal family to be always present with Théoden, able to keep a continuous eye on what was happening and to try to do what she could to counteract the negative daily influence of Gríma. She probably felt a sense of duty to be there, even at the cost of exposing herself to harm and finding the whole thing hateful and degrading. (Note that she DOES try to leave once Théoden is healed and she doesn’t have the duty to watch him anymore!)

Now, if her concerns were about caring for Théoden and/or blunting Gríma’s influence, there were ways to try to mitigate those concerns while still allowing her to flee, most notably by finding someone else who could step into her role. But who? Your choices are 1) someone who wasn’t in the royal family and thus was arguably in an even weaker position relative to Gríma than Éowyn was; or 2) Théodred or Éomer, who would have to give up their marshal duties to come back to Edoras full time even as conditions in the East- and West-marks were significantly deteriorating.

I can (and do) hate that Éowyn, as the female royal who lacked any other formal role within Rohan’s political and military structure, got stuck with the perilous nursemaid duties just because she was, for lack of a better word, available. I can (and do) stipulate that it was quite convenient for Théodred and Éomer that Éowyn was there and could be counted on to put her misery aside and handle things at home so that they could keep doing what they were doing. But I also acknowledge the reality and seriousness of the tasks Théodred and Éomer were undertaking — things that were central to the protection and safety of the kingdom overall and that could have been substantially harmed by the need to stop and return to Edoras. All those statements can be true at once. I don’t think Théodred and Éomer set out to disadvantage Éowyn because she was a girl, but in practice she was disadvantaged for that reason because they had official jobs that she did not and a crush of external pressures heightened the stakes of every decision such that no one felt comfortable casting aside all those formal jobs and normal ways of doing things to try a different, novel approach.

My personal interpretation of the characters’ choices is that Éowyn loved Théoden and felt a duty to Rohan. For that reason, she wasn’t going to leave him on his own in that state, no matter how unhappy, afraid or angry she was. She was also depressed, isolated and probably influenced by Gríma not to trust the other people around her. So the only way she would have agreed to give up that duty and flee was if one of the only two people she did trust — Théodred or Éomer — was back in Edoras to take the duty in her stead. But I don’t think she ever really expected that to happen because, you know, that’s just not how things worked. Marshals of the Mark had their own urgent duties and obligations, and I don’t think it’s especially likely that she expected her cousin or brother to upend established norms that way even if she wished for it. She was, sadly, resigned to this fate.

As for Théodred and Éomer, I think those two judged that the threat of catastrophic violence in the East and West was sufficiently high that they couldn’t abandon their commands to deal with the situation in Edoras. They instead took the very significant and calculated risk to have Éowyn handle Edoras even though she was both terribly unhappy and in danger there — not because they didn’t love her or worry about her but because they simply felt themselves to be without any choice and weren’t yet able to think enough outside of the box they were raised in to see another alternative. I think they trusted her and probably took some comfort in knowing that she had the training, skills and bravery to act at need, and I think they also enlisted the secondary help of other folks in Edoras who could keep a close watch on their behalf and come to Éowyn’s aid if events ever seemed to be getting beyond her control. Among these would be Háma and Elfhelm, both of whom are canonically fond of Éowyn, supportive of her, and close enough to be on hand in an emergency.

I would have made different choices myself, but I can see why they all made the choices they did even as I disagree. Again, all their options were bad and came with big risks. You can’t have a royal family member keeping an eye on Théoden and Gríma AND have the marshals of the Mark preventing the collapse of Rohan’s borders AND get Éowyn out of that dangerous and hateful position in Edoras. At best, you can do 2 out of those 3 at any one time. That is not an enviable place to be.

FWIW, I do think that a change in strategy was imminent in February 3019. Our heroes were going to have to become willing to do something that was previously unthinkable if they were going to overcome Gríma’s advantages (namely, his willingness to play dirty). Maybe that means murdering Gríma in an act of vigilante justice, no matter the consequence. Maybe that’s pushing Théoden from the throne since he wasn’t ruling competently. But I think they were coming to understand that SOMETHING had to change. We see in UT that it was getting increasingly common for Théodred and others to act without orders in order to thwart Gríma’s intent, and it’s a short walk from “I’m not waiting for orders” to “I don’t follow the orders you give” to “I no longer recognize your authority at all.” Perhaps even Gríma and Saruman could see this dynamic coming into shape, which is why they murdered Théodred in an attempt to head it off. So it’s possible things for Éowyn might have changed at some point soon, though we’ll never know exactly how because the unexpected arrival of Gandalf changed everything!

I’m SO SORRY that got so long. I hope ANY of it was useful at all! And of course, this is just my own two cents. There are plenty of other valid interpretations, and some of those may suit you better!

[sgiandubh]

So now Tony is listed as director at all of Cait‘s companies. What do you think about that?

Dear So Now Anon,

What a coincidence (not!) I just answered a very similar Anon sent to @bat-cat-reader, which I suppose is clear enough.

But to make it even clearer (if at all possible) and keeping in mind what I wrote in that post about Persons of Significant Control, let's check a couple of things, shall we? For all the three other companies C owns.

They probably split 50/50 already, which would explain the rather vague 'has significant influence or control'. Why?

Here is why:

The currently available Balance Sheet, covering the period until 31 December 2023 shows there is not much in there. Barely 100 shares (1£/share), about 59K £ assets and 11 K £ of debts. May I remind you a balance sheet covers the company's assets (available funds, including incoming funds), liabilities (debts) and shareholder equity (the company's net worth, which is roughly the result of subtracting liabilities from assets and dividing them by the number of shareholders). The net worth serves to describe what each and every one of those shareholders are entitled to, should the company be liquidated and all its debts paid off. In this case, the retained earnings, which is the figure quoted between brackets (11.292 £) means the company is in debt/in the red.

Now, this is very interesting, Anon. Albeit The Happy Couple ™ are now both appointed officers in this company (and T has been so since October 1st 2024), this company's designated PSC is ... Byron Benirras. And who is Byron Benirras' own designated sole PSC? A certain Caitriona Mary B. That is normal - serious 💷💷is indirectly involved, this time, as we know the bulk of her assets is placed there. Therefore, C has full control and sole ownership of Little Nugget Films, too, via Byron Benirras. Remember (ROFLMAO): a legal person (i.e. a company, in this context) has the same rights and the same obligations/duties as the natural (meaning 'real') person behind it (C).

Let's have a look at financials:

On 31.03.2023, the company's assets were about 2.500 £ only and its liabilities around 17K£. In debt/in the red, too. But a clear will to remain in firm control of things from C's side.

This appears to be a totally, carefully planned move, too - future plans, perhaps?

This company has not two, but three appointed officers, one of which is another specialized service company (perfectly legal, in the UK), in charge of all the secretarial work (perfectly legal, too):

Not one, but two PSCs. Same mechanism as for FMN Drinks UK (see above):

Such a nice, tidy, even split. Why? Heh, indeed: why? Unless...

Let's have a look at the company's balance sheet on 31 March 2023:

Unless you do acquire real estate using your own funds (a very easy cross check with another one of C's companies reveals the exclusive provenance of those funds - sssh!), no mortgage and no bank loan needed. Property that is legally defined as investment property, which means it cannot legally be a home, nor taxed as such:

[Source: https://prosperity-wealth.co.uk/news/before-you-buy-investment-property/]

Now remind me what real estate might have been bought anytime between 31 March 2022 and 31 March 2023 and valued at about 2.120.000 £?

You'd probably be correct to guess this one:

[ For a complete tour of the GLA Taj Mahal's legal intricacies: https://www.tumblr.com/sgiandubh/764266729372368897/anon-rebelde-detecto-un-nerviosismo-muy-revelador?source=share]

Let's have a second look and, surely enough...

Some simple maths?

2.292.567 (amounts falling due within one year, which covers the 31.03.2022 -31.03.2023 period) - 2.167.392 (net current liabilities) = 125.175 £ (cash at bank). Roger that. I think there is also a second investment property, bought before 31 March 2022 for 1.6 million pounds and shown as such (valued at cost first, then at its fair value, which is evaluated at 1.9 million pounds, in 2023 - a nice appreciation of the initial investment).

I hope this answers your question, Anon. And given the very long and very emotional day that ended (whew, already?) about four hours ago, I hope I didn't miss something or make any gross mistake. You know how some other Anons can be, don't you?

[kesujo]

If you were to have cosplay sex with your idol girlfriend, which idol would you think would look best in the following costumes?

Police

Student

Professor

Witch

Superhero

Cheerleader

Princess

Comics, game characters

Bikini

Nude

For the sake of not being too boring and answering 'Taeyeon' for all of them, imma try to diversify a bit here (although I may still end up going with Taeyeon for more than one :p) Also, this is more gonna be of a 'who I think of first for __' or 'who do I think suits a __ kind of look the best' :D

Police

I think this one is pretty easy since IU, I think, is (or was) an honorary police officer

2. Student Sana seems like she'd be a delight to teach. What a cutie pie

Look at her.

Yep. Looking at her. Looking at her ... wait what?

Oh, also, shoutout to Taeyeon too

And ofc her in her 'Letter to Myself' MV and photoshoot/jacket shoot/whatever they're called

(how to be that cushion, anyone know?)

3. Professor Speaking of Taeyeon (sorry, but you asked me, the Taeyeon-biased guy, so you should've figured that I'd answer Taeyeon for a few of these, even if I said I'd try not to at the beginning of this post)

Yep.

Yep yep. Help, my mind is going fried with all sorts of ideas of principal/professor Taeyeon ... I can't start any more drafts than I already have...

4. Witch First thing that comes to mind for 'witch': Red Velvet. Probably influence of 'Really Bad Boy' and/or 'Peekaboo' or something. Of those, I feel like Irene would suit the 'witch' vibes

(this was the closest thing I could find to 'Witch Irene' LMAO) (Irene didn't really look like a witch in RBB, really, so ... yeah. Lemme konw if you got something better and I'll update this :D)

5. Superhero

First thing I thought of for 'Superhero' is Super Yuppers from Chocome, and Yeoreum is my fav amongst them, so it's Yorm :D (also, have a yorm draft, but unsure when it's gonna come out)

6. Cheerleader

Somehow, first thing I thought of was this outfit from Amazing Saturday and not SNSD's cheerleader outfits from 'Oh!' Speaking of that, though, Tiffany looked the best in their cheerleader outfits for 'Oh!' imo

7. Princess First person I thought of for this one is Yuna

idk why tbh, I just feel like Yuna fits the 'princess' vibe the best, you know? And this is coming from someone who barely knows ITZY, really. Perhaps that's just the power of Yuna...

8. Comics, game characters For this one, I figure I should choose someone who is also known for good acting, and I think Seohyun has been praised for her acting before. Also, here's her as Maelficent:

and her as a cute vampire:

(IU was chosen for the police officer one, which is why I didn't choose her for this one) (Also, I still have yet to watch anything SNSD has acted in, or any kdrama that isn't 'Goblin', for that matter xD) Don't let those outfits deceive you, she got the body to pull off curvier characters too...

9. Bikini As you may have surmised, I tend to follow the SM girl groups quite a bit, and there's no other real rhyme of reason behind any of the other groups I pay attention to. So, on that note:

And then, obviously...

Yeah, nuff said, really.

10. Nude So ... uh, not sure what kinda, like, outfit or cosplay or something 'nude' is, I'm guessing this is more or less 'who do you think looks best nude' or something?

One answer:

Not biased at all

Not in the slightest

...Yeah...

(btw holy FK this pose...)

Also have some cute Taeyeon (that's still showing off her assets) :D

And who can forgot this legendary outfit

Not me, that's who. AND ALSO, Taeyeon showing off her ass for no reason:

And some candids of that LV outfit

Those lil slits on the slide, perfect for sliding your hands in and grabbing a handful of them titties

And,

STEP ON ME MOMMY

Ahem, sorry about that.

Yeah. Not biased btw.

:)

[befemininenow]

It's even better when the outfit screams femme.

It's been over 3 months since you first joined B.U.S.T. and your loyalty to the team has been noticeably known. B.U.S.T. applications have exploded to over 300% in the past 3 months you first joined and the higher-ups can't keep up with the demand. They know it's all thanks to you and your ability to make the program known through social media and word of mouth among LGBT+ safe spaces. Just as you're admiring your feminizing figure and your new, high boots, boss stops by and interrupts you: "Hi, honey. I love your new boots btw! You look just as gorgeous as ever! I need you to stop by my office in 5 minutes. It's very important." You stop what you're doing and take a small breather and a glass of water before heading out and meeting her at her office. "Have a seat, hun. Let's start our meeting." You hope it's all good.

"You have developed so well within the company, you fit as the perfect model for our goal, miss." Your boss, the busty lady from the ad, reviews your progress portfolio on her side of the office desk. Rarely does anyone get a call from boss unless it's a higher-up, interview, or even get fired. For the former two, it's just a regular thing; for the latter, it means the end of their journey. You're not sure why you were even called to show up, but you prefer to stay quiet and respond to her questions calmly, like an obedient servant.

"You know, I just love how you respond to my questions without resistance. I think you're becoming more submissive *chuckle*" It may have sounded hot when you were just a weakling sissy, but now that word just sends shivers to your spine. At least back then, you were doing it willingly. Now, though, it's become a habit that's hard to break. "Look, it's been 3 months and it's usually the time period when I either let you go or extend your stay. I'm here to break you the news..." Oh god, what is she up to? You were enjoying the stay here and you hope you didn't strike a nerve to boss. "I'm promoting you to team lead! Congratulations, girl! You're one of us now!"

Wait, hold up. Team lead!? "R-r-really!? OMG! Team lead? That's like, awesome!" "Yes, girlie! Team lead! We figured it's the first step towards becoming a higher-up for B.U.S.T. since you have so much potential towards change and influence! Isn't that exciting?" There's so much you want to say, you feel like tearing up out of nerves and excitement. "I just want to say one more thing before you sign these documents for your new position." She hands over the list you gave her in the beginning towards your transition goal. "See that? You just passed and checked number 7 without realizing it. Guess what's next, hun?" You read the list and you read number 8...

"Take these, hun. It's estrogen. You're going to become a woman. Forever." Wait, HRT!? You want to say something on top of your lungs. For you, it's just a kink or a fetish. But inside, or outside, the answer is very different. "What do you say? Are you ready to become another sister of the team?" "Yes, boss! I'm ready to be a loyal sister forever!" No!!! How can it be!? This isn't what you wanted! You just wanted to feminize for humiliation, not become a woman! Right? Right? ..... Wrong!

(To be continued)

[leaawrites]

Hi, I don't know if I could make a request for Graham Coxon x Fem Reader, where she's part of the band (you choose the instrument she plays), they met at school, they were the typical cliché of 'he's too cool for me' and when they finally get together they join the band together

The writing itself is about the band in an interview, their relationship was public and the interviewer asks them how they met, at that moment she tells about how she felt that he was too cool and all that, and everyone bursts into laughter, then when they leave the interview Graham asks her if what she said was true, And she says yes, and she ends up with a lot of mellowness and all that cloying stuff

Part of the Band

Graham Coxon x fem!bassist!reader

Summary: as requested.

Warnings: swearing, mentions of gramon,

Wordcount: 1.4k

Notes: I hope this is about what you wanted :)

Masterlist

“The Band was shit, the fact that that was their actual name was the most obvious clue that I shouldn’t have join them in the first place, but I guess you do stupid things for a crush sometimes.”

Y/n still remembered the day as if it was yesterday, how she stood in front of the music room and tried to prep-talk herself into thinking that this was a decision based on her love for music and not based on her love for a certain guitar player. Though, the moment she walked in and saw the three guys stand in the middle of the room, huddled together and whisper.

“They shut up immediately after I walked in, so I couldn’t help but think that conversation might’ve been about me,” she continued her answer, making Damon giggle quietly into his hand as he remembered the conversation they had all too well.

“It was,” he confessed. “Graham here, was so nervous to have her in the band, it was fucking hilarious to watch him play the wrong notes or mess up the text.”

“It wasn’t fun for you back then, because you had to wait for him to get himself together all the time,” Dave interrupted Damon.

“What have you got say about all of this?” The interviewer asked him now. All eyes in the room turned to Graham as he looked down at the bottle in his hands with a hint of a smile covering his face.

“It may have been about her,” he confessed quietly, a subtle change in his behavior for only her to see. He got nervous. With his fingers tapping against the glass of the bottle and his upper lip sucked between his teeth, she could see his heart racing in his chest. Knowing him well enough to see these subtle changes and being well aware of how they could influence his later performance for the show the had after the interview. He would be thinking too much.

Putting her hand subtly on his shoulder, she squeezed the skin beneath to assure him that no matter what he said, it didn’t matter; her story was far more embarrassing.

“What were you talking about?” The interviewer kept on pushing. Y/n knew it was their job, but having simple human decency wasn’t too much asked, now was it?

“You know, just this and that,” Graham kept on answering.

“Like what?” The tension in the room build up and she could feel it as well. “This and that isn’t very exact.” She tried laughing it off, but beside a few pitiful chuckles, no one joined in, leaving her to uncomfortably shuffle around in her chair.

“We weren’t saying much about her, just that we weren’t sure if we made the right decision,” Damon answered simply, receiving a shove from the girl next to him.

“The right decision?” she repeated, exaggerating the words while she spoke, her accent thickening while doing so. “You were basically desperate for a bass player and I was the only one willing to join your little band everyone else made fun of. Albarn, I’m sorry, but I wouldn’t call that having a choice.”

“She just wanted to join us so she could get closer to Graham,” Damon shot back, making the girl’s eyes widen. Her gaze was focused on Damon, begging him to stop talking while her cheeks began to redden and she could feel Graham focusing on her now, full of interest for the topic all of a sudden. “You know, Y/n has had the hots for Graham since kindergarten or so - and I can’t blame her, he’s fit for sure -, but she was always too afraid to talk to him. I mean, always a book in front of her face and absolute maths genius, she wasn’t the first person we would’ve considered for the band, but we’d done a pretty good job making her more of a Rock star, I’d say.” He was grinning like a proud mom who just told all her daughter’s secrets at the family dinner table.

“Is that true? You a bookworm and nerd?” People like her really didn’t stop over pushing words and their meaning, Y/n thought as she chuckled at the question.

“What am I supposed to say? I mean, yes, I was an absolute nerd, but - in my defence - Graham was way too cool for someone like me back then - still is. What was I supposed to do, just go up and talk to him? Albarn would’ve been the first to laugh at me, while staring daggers at me for trying to steal his boyfriend.”

He gasps on shock at the allegations, making the rest of the group burst out in laughter as he shoved the girl into Graham, like a little child. The interviewer chuckled awkwardly as she watched the young adults cackle on the small sofa, all squished together, gasping for air in between swearing and accusing the other of something.

“I’m afraid our time is up now,” she says, as the group quietens down once more. “It was nice meeting you and I’m looking forward to watching your performance in a few minutes.” Saying their farewells, they watched her disappear down the hallway, before letting all out a simultaneous deep breath which they held for too long now already.

Collapsing into Graham’s side, Y/n closed her eyes for a few seconds, mumbling, “I hate interviewers sometimes, they are so annoying. With all their questions and if they don’t get the answer they want, they’ll almost murder you for it.”

“It’s what you need to go through in order to stay important nowadays,” Damon shrugged, standing up to head towards the dressing rooms and get ready for the performance they booked. “Plus, most of them are fit, so can’t complain.”

“You’re such a pig, you know that?” Y/n watched him irritated as he left her with only his middle finger as a response to her comment. The smoke from his cigarette filling the air around him, leaving the sound assistant coughing in the corner of the hall. He always blew the smoke right into your face to piss you off.

Sensing the build up tension between the pair, Dave excused himself as well, saying he needed to check something with his drumsticks.

“The fuck does he need to check? If they’re still made out of wood or what?” Y/n chuckled, looking at Graham for a laughter from him as well, but all he did was chuckle dryly. “What’s wrong?” She sat up, taking his face into her hands, her forehead wrinkling slightly as she stared at him in worry and concern. “Are you alright? Do you not feel well. I swear to god, if it’s about that interview - that woman went too far and we all know it, it wasn’t fair to you.”

“Did you really mean it?” He caught the gap of silence between her rambling to stop her from worrying as much as she did. It was a normal habit, one she didn’t mind. She’d talk in concern and he’d cut her off every time, cutting her train of bad thoughts.

“Did I mean what? That Damon would definitely had been jealous if I asked you out? Yes, I mean, look at how you two act around each other.”

“About me being too cool for you,” he clarified, making her stop talking for longer than before.

The sarcasm that once dripped from her tongue was now nowhere in sight when she softly answered, “You know the answer to that.”

“As if I were too coll for you, you were too cool for me,” he said back, now smiling genuinely for the first time.

“Oh no, you were the one with the rich parents and friends with the cool kids like Damon, I was the complete opposite. As if I was too cool for someone like you.”

“You totally were. You were too pretty for me, still are.”

“Look in the mirror, love, and then think about that again.”

“Sometimes you make me sick, you know?” Damon’s voice echoed from the doorway, faking a gag as the couple looked up at him. “Like right now. You don’t want your singer to fall off, now do you?”

“Oh, how could we ever life without you, Damon,” Y/n pouted, the sarcasm back in her dictionary as she stood up, pulling Graham up with her.

“Get your ass on the fucking stage,” the blonde said annoyed, walking away. Another audible gag being heard making Y/n roll her eyes.

“Someday, I will accidentally push him off the fucking stage,” she repeated his words with a bad imitation of his accent. Graham laughed at her comment, silently agreeing with her, before taking her hand in his and pulling her after him towards the dressing rooms.