#useless fucking website not even showing the post jesus

[milfygerard]

@staff @support you sent me an email telling me that you removed a post from my blog, but I have no clue what post because the link you said is dead because you deleted the post before I could see it. I have no clue what was deleted or how it qualified as abuse or harassment. Not having a screenshot or aechive link to send me so I can actually see the post and, if the claim is not legitimate, appeal it, is massively unprofessional. Please either reinstate the post or tell me what it consisted of so we can move forward

[mostlycompetentwriter]

Domesticated

M/F Pairing: Y/N x Bang Chan (Stray Kids) 

Genre: Married Life AU

Warnings: Smut, language, some mentions of cheating (but not with the main pairing)

Word Count: 19,922 (I might break this up later on)

Summary: Marriage was something Y/N had been dreaming about since she was a little girl. But now, ten years later, she’s married to her college sweetheart, but their relationship isn’t entirely perfect. There’s the issue of her new boss, aka her ex-boyfriend Seo Changbin, and Chan’s younger brother Felix who insists on calling her Medusa. Yet, through it all, Y/N is positive she wouldn’t trade it for anything in the world.

Notes: Y'all are really out here sleeping on husband Bang Chan and I won’t allow it anymore. Because Chan is 100% husband goals.

“Where do you see yourself in five years?”

I slowly exhaled after disregarding my somewhat passable resume, courtesy of one of those sketchy website builders, to look at the interviewer who waited for my response, pen poised over his expensive notebook. I swallowed hard as I struggled to compose myself under pressure. Because there was a professional answer somewhere in the back of my useless brain, but a dozen other responses, far more honest than his expectations, were waiting on the tip of my tongue.

Such as: 

Waiting at home for my husband because all I do is stare at the clock, counting down the minutes until he walks through the door. I kinda miss when we were in college and could see each other sporadically between long lectures, grabbing lunch at the Wendy’s on South Campus. Now, the most exciting thing that happens is the occasional blow job before we pass out on the worn mattress in our master bedroom.

Or

Sometimes Chan will host dinner parties at the house for his expensive doctor friends. He won’t spare me a single glance while I rush to fill glasses with rich-tasting wine, keeping an eye on Han Jisung because he can’t take more than three refills before he’s trying to dismantle the house. I’ll also have to ignore the really old surgeon who Chan admires because he likes to touch my ass when I pass through the living room. Maybe I was suited to be a sugar baby in another life.

Or

On the rare occasion when Chan actually uses his cock, he’ll pant in my ear the entire time because he’s worn out from long hours at the hospital. Chan will cum before me most of the time and I’m lucky if he’s cognizant enough to eat me out so that I can finally fall asleep from my post-orgasmic haze. Heck, I’ll even take his fingers on my clit if it means an assured eight hours of sleep.

Shit, I miss being young.

I cleared my throat, deciding on the professional answer because I highly doubt Seo Enterprises wanted to hire a desperate housewife.

I was sprawled out on the couch in our living room when Chan came home that evening. I barely acknowledged his rushed greeting, watching through narrowed eyes as he ran into the kitchen. “Babe,” came his anticipated whine. “There’s no leftovers?”

“I didn’t feel like cooking,” I said, turning over to bury my face in the throw pillows decorating the cushions. It really wasn’t that comfortable since Chan insisted we get the stiff, fancy leather futon as opposed to the appealing sectional that could actually recline. 

“You didn’t cook?”

Chan’s voice was closer this time but I still ignored him, sensing an impending headache. “I had an interview.”

“That was hours ago,” Chan pouted.

I sighed loudly. “The interview went great, honey, thanks for asking.”

“I’ve been at the hospital since 5 this morning,” Chan went on, weight dipping beneath the couch at the opposite end. “I didn’t even have time for lunch because Jisung almost fucked up a patient’s IV.”

“Remind me again why he still has a job.”

“Because he somehow graduated from nursing school and has a license claiming he’s qualified,” Chan said. “Plus, he’s my friend.”

“You have shit taste in friends,” I said, protesting when his hand landed a firm smack against my ass. 

“Minho tried to wreck the Corvette when he ran out of cigarettes.”

“Minho is loyal.”

“He still wants to fuck you,” Chan grumped. “Ten years after college and he’s trailing after your ass.”

“Darling, you don’t have to be jealous when I’m wearing your ugly ring on my finger 24/7.”

“It was my mother’s!”

“Oh for fuck’s sake, Bang Chan,” I snapped while grabbing one of my support pillows from beneath my weight, launching it at my husband’s head. Sadly, Chan dodged at the last minute, much to my chagrin, smirking as he dug his fingers into my sides, forcing loud, high-pitched giggles as we both unceremoniously fell into the spotlessly clean floor. “Channie,” I groaned as he rolled on top of me, pinning my hands above my head before deciding to offer me a sloppy kiss with far too much tongue. “You’re fucking gross,” I said, biting at his lower lip in revenge.

“Yeah? Well, you’re fucking sexy,” Chan purred, nuzzling his head between my breasts. 

“Stop it, you oaf!” I grumbled. “My period starts tomorrow. My tits have been sore all day.”

“Maybe I should have a look,” Chan teased, a free hand working loose one of the buttons on my shirt.

“And what good will that do?”

“Well, I am a doctor.”

“You just want to see my tits so you have something to jerk off to in the shower tonight.”

“Shower with me then,” Chan suggested. “I’ll fuck you against the wall.”

“Will you have the stamina?” I questioned. “You poor thing, how can you get it up when you haven’t eaten all day?”

Chan frowned at my mocking tone. “Are you turning down my cock?”

“You’re only half-hard,” I said, lifting my thigh against the tight bulge of his scrubs.

Chan let out a sigh, but his smile was endearing. “What if I order takeout? Then we can fuck in the shower.”

“Channie,” I cooed. “You always know how to talk dirty to me.”

I stand by my belief that email was now an archaic form of communication, but the number of big businesses that forced their employees to make an account @ their company name was ridiculous. But if I wanted to find a job in this big ass city, then I needed to play by the rules. Surprisingly, my most recent application was progressing with far more success than I could have anticipated, and I had read over the new email from Seo Enterprises at least half a dozen times:

Dear Mrs. Bang,

Thank you for taking the time to interview with our staff yesterday afternoon. After carefully reviewing your file with our CEO, he has asked us to schedule one last consultation. Please let us know your earliest convenience.

“That must be a good thing,” Minho remarked, digging his spoon into my ice cream since his bowl was empty and I wasn’t in the mood to argue with him. 

“I guess,” I said, formulating a quick reply because I really wanted this fancy, high-paying Secretary job. I mean, sitting at home all day was definitely not high on my list of accomplishments.

“What’s the hurry anyway?” Minho asked as he licked his spoon clean. “Bang has enough money that you could just smooch off him for the rest of your life.”

“That’s not fair,” I said. “I want us to be equals.”

“Wasn’t that the point of marrying a doctor, Y/N?” Minho asked. “Otherwise, you could still be screwing around with me.”

“Except we aren’t 18 anymore,” I pointed out, frowning in his direction. “And says the guy who works part-time at his sister’s pet shop.”

“Hey!” Minho protested, shoving his spoon in my face. “I’m helping the strays. Population control and shit.”

“So what? You’re snipping some dog penises, good for you.”

Minho sat back with a disgruntled sigh. “What do you want to do after this?”

“I’ll bring Chan some lunch since he didn’t get a chance to eat yesterday,” I said. “Interested in accompanying an old friend?”

“Not really,” Minho said. “But I don’t have anything better to do.”

I maintained a long list of places that I truly despised and the hospital was number one. I always tried desperately not to let it show when I visited Chan because it wasn’t really his fault. I had a bad history when it came to hospitals and the memories lingered like the permanent smell of alcohol that Chan brought home with him on his scrubs.

“Did you see that guy in the waiting room?” Minho asked after I checked us in at the front desk. “He was seconds away from bleeding out on the floor.”

“Don’t talk about blood,” I shivered, hurrying to the elevator while frantically hitting the corresponding floor number.

“This reminding you of Freshman year?” Minho asked since he was a total airhead and missed out on the memo where I specifically told him to keep his mouth shut about that stupid Frat Party.

“There are five reasons why I hate hospitals,” I said, holding up my hand in front of his stupid face. “Don’t make me spell it out for you.”

“Is Freshman year one of them?”

“Shut the hell up, Minho.”

A quiet chuckle resounded through the empty elevator while I impatiently waited for our stop. “You’re feisty today,” Minho remarked once the doors reopened.

I ignored the nasty linoleum floors, heels clicking with every step I took in the direction of Chan’s office. “I’m eating with Chan and then we’re never coming here again.”

“Agreed,” Minho said, keeping pace with me while cringing at the gurneys being pushed through the hallways at an alarming rate. 

We had almost made it to the end of the floor when I heard a lazy voice call out my name from one of the surrounding rooms. I closed my eyes because I could recognize that voice anywhere since it basically haunted my worst nightmares. He might not know it yet, but Han Jisung was the last person I wanted to run into because maybe, just maybe, he was one of the five reasons why I hated this place.

“Guys!” Jisung gushed, smiling brilliantly. “I’d hug you but I just finished cleaning piss off the floor.”

“Jesus, Han,” I said, wrinkling my nose against the overpowering smell of ammonia. “Is Chan in his office?”

“He was supposed to meet with our new superintendent,” Jisung said, grinning like a complete idiot when he shoved his gloved hands towards Minho who now looked a few beats away from losing his ice cream.

“You’re really pushing your luck today,” Minho growled at him.

“The meeting room is the last room on the right,” Jisung said, finally proving to be useful for once in his life.

I grabbed Minho’s arm because he was close to decking Jisung in the face and I didn’t need the security guards to tell Chan that I let my best friend attack one of his nurses. “Come on,” I said, urging him away from the potential crime scene.

“He’s this close to finding himself with a bloody nose,” Minho complained. “You know what’s funny? I’m pretty sure Han Jisung wouldn’t even know how to help himself.”

“You’re probably right,” I agreed, straightening the collar of my blouse as I peeked in through the tight blinds obscuring the glass wall of the room Jisung had indicated. “There’s Chan...” I started, trailing off when I noticed that he was engrossed in deep conversation with an unfamiliar woman.

“Oh, she’s really hot,” Minho remarked, wincing when I shoved my elbow into his chest.

“Commentary is not necessary,” I said, folding my arms across my chest as I tapped my foot against the floor. Who the hell did this bitch think she was?

“Jealousy isn’t a good look on you,” Minho teased and I swallowed my pride, trying to ignore the way she reached out to touch Chan’s arm.

Thankfully, Chan finally noticed me outside, offering me a cheesy wave which I refused to reciprocate as he said something to the woman. I waited outside the door, attempting my best stern expression even if Chan completely ignored my efforts, encasing me in his powerful arms. “Y/N,” he cooed.

“Chan,” I choked out, struggling against his strength.

Minho snorted at the display. “I’m going to find the cafeteria. Text me when you wanna leave, Y/N.”

I waved him off once Chan eventually released me. I sucked in a few grateful breaths while holding up the takeout bag I had brought. “Is there somewhere we can go?”

Chan nodded, reaching for my hand. “Sorry I took so long, I was meeting with the new superintendent.”

I pursed my lips at that revelation. “She doesn’t look old enough to be a superintendent.”

“She’s around my age,” Chan said and I frowned because that just made everything worse.

The hospital’s staff room was small, the smell of coffee heavy in the air as Chan closed the door behind us. “Nobody should come in.”

“Good,” I said, choosing the only table that looked halfway clean before sitting down with a sigh. “I brought you lunch.”

“Thanks, sweetie,” Chan said, gratefully accepting the bag from me while he sat down on the remaining chair. I glared at him from across the table, watching as he dug into the cheap Japanese like it was his last meal on earth. “Is something wrong?” he asked over a mouthful of noodles. Something college Chan would have never done when we first started dating, but I suppose that’s what you get with marriage.

“I saw you were pretty close with your new superintendent,” I said.

“Oh yeah,” Chan replied cheerfully, stuffing even more food into his impossibly wide mouth. “She’s super smart. Like, Harvard graduate smart.”

“Of course she is,” I murmured. “Do you like her?”

“As a boss I guess,” Chan said, still horribly naive to the real problem. I cathartically drummed my fingernails against the surface of the table. 

“Are you coming home early tonight?” I asked him. “I’ll fix your favorite.”

Chan’s eyes lit up because, despite the food sitting right in front of him, he always got excited at the prospect of another meal. “Really?”

I nodded. “I’ll put the good whiskey on ice.”

Chan sat back with a dramatic groan. “Are you trying to give me a heart attack? Where is all this coming from?”

“I’m just being a good wife,” I said, taking on a dismissive tone.

Chan grinned. “Do you want something, sweetheart? You know I’ll buy you anything.”

“No reason,” I chirped. “I just want you to remember how good am I to you.”

“Of course I know that,” Chan said, reaching across the table to squeeze one of my hands. “I didn’t just marry you for your beautiful face.”

“That’s not what you said when we first met,” I reminded him cheekily, enjoying the way his ears grew red. “Should I do a reenactment?”

“That’s not necessary,” Chan said, quickly dismissing the topic. “Did you hear back from your interview?”

“Oh I did,” I said. “They want me to come in and meet the CEO.”

“What for?” Chan scoffed, returning back to his meal.

“Well, I am taking on the secretary position,” I said. “Maybe he wants to make sure I have good phone etiquette.”

“Yeah?” Chan grumbled. “Or, he wants to make sure you look pretty for him so he has something nice to look at all day.”

“And what’s wrong with that?” I asked him because I loved it when Chan got possessive.

“I don’t want some rich bastard drooling over my wife,” Chan said, chopsticks clenched tightly between his fingers.

“Yeah? Well, it works both ways, you know.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Oh come on, Chan,” I sighed. “Your superintendent was totally flirting with you.”

Chan put down his chopsticks, eyeing me cluelessly. “No, she wasn’t.”

“Yes, she was,” I immediately countered, reaching down for my purse. “I watched her the entire time.”

“Were you spying on me?” Chan asked with a smirk.

“Minho’s probably waiting for me,” I replied instead, smoothing down my skirt as I stood up from the table.

“Don’t you think that’s too short?” Chan asked, pointing at my lower section as if personally offended.

“Work hard, honey,” I grinned, leaning over the table to peck him once on the lips, offering a cheeky wave on my way out the door.

My palms were sweaty and, despite my repeated attempts to wipe off the nasty residue on my skirt, the condition persisted. Hyperhidrosis, Chan might tell me, nerdy glasses falling down his nose. I grinned at a distant memory, one of the first dates I ever had with Chan. A younger, less confident version of my husband, frantically peeling his suit jacket from his body, complaining about the heat in the restaurant, only to cower moments later when he realized his armpits were totally drenched.

“Mrs. Bang?”

I looked up at the young man bowing in front of me. “Mr. Seo will see you now.”

I nodded, holding my tongue before I let the intern know that he sounded just like a passage from Fifty Shades of Gray. Oh, shit, what if I was about to meet Christian Gray in the flesh? Some sort of young, hot billionaire with the world at his feet, buying up other companies like they meant absolutely nothing.

It was a believable scenario, and I don’t know how I managed to get my feet to work, but I followed the intern with exaggerated steps. “The boss has been looking forward to this,” the intern told me, pausing outside the office door.

“He has?” I wondered, glancing around the grandiose lobby. Did I really make that much of an impression?

“You can go in now,” the intern smiled, politely holding the door for me as I wordlessly walked inside.

Of course, I was expecting something extravagant, considering the layout of the lobby, but I was still deeply impressed by the spacious, but oddly cozy interior. Could you really call this room an office? Considering how massive it was in size. I mean, was it really necessary to basically live in an apartment when you arrived to work every day? Complete with stylish hardwood floors that looked like something out of an edition of House and Home magazine. I’d bet my entire life’s savings that the CEO hired some kind of fancy architect to design the place because those engravings on the mahogany walls were quite difficult to achieve. “It’s nice isn’t it?” a disarmingly familiar voice asked, and I found the dark figure leaning against the desk in the center of the room, sleeves rolled up to show off his impressive arms. “I was surprised to see your application, Y/N.”

Fuck, Christian Grey would have been way better.

“Changbin?”

He met me halfway across the room, now completely visible beneath the low hanging lights, tan skin washed with a comfortable glow. “Shocked?”

“You could say that,” I said, suddenly feeling like I was 18 again in college, lusting after the object of my affections.

“Have a seat,” Changbin offered kindly, extending his arm towards the matching armchairs neatly tucked around the electric fireplace.

“Okay,” I nodded, unable to take my eyes off Seo Changbin as I stumbled over my heels like a complete lovestruck teenager meeting her musician idol for the very first time.

But, holy fuck, Changbin looked good. Why the hell did he not age or turn prematurely gray? I held back a whimper, eyes looking everywhere around the room except at Seo Changbin. How did I not put two and two together when I first got the notification for the Secretary position at Seo Enterprises? I mean, what are the chances that this Seo is my Seo...Or, at least, he used to be my Seo. 

“Y/N,” Changbin said, flipping through my file with lazy movements. Where did he get those pants from? They fit him sinfully good, hugging his thighs and if I look close enough, the outline of his...“How are you?”

I startled at the question, drawing my eyes up to meet Changbin’s familiar gaze. “Oh, I’m uh..” I trailed off anxiously, trying to put meaningful words together because he was making the English language harder than it needed to be. “I’ve been alright.”

Changbin smiled and I crossed my legs because that kind of smile could literally drench a girl if he wasn’t careful. “I was really happy to see your name on my list.”

“Were you?” I asked, fingers digging into the cushion of my chair.

“I’m always happy to see a familiar face,” Changbin said. “It’s been a while.”

“College,” I choked out, completely out of mind with anxiety, like the time Minho stole my phone and made me think someone had stolen it, even encouraging me to call the number only for him to hang up every time.

“You’re still beautiful.”

“Changbin...”

“I know,” he said, shaking his head. “It’s all in the past.”

“That’s right,” I said, wondering if now would be an appropriate time to snatch my resume out of Changbin’s veiny hands and flee the premises.

“And you’ve married Bang,” Changbin said, pointing to my wedding band. “Which isn’t surprising.”

“Five years,” I said, trying my best to think about Chan and only Chan despite the literal embodiment of my every erotic high school fantasy sitting right in front of me.

“This would be strictly professional,” Changbin said, holding up my resume. “You were our best applicant, but I thought you should know everything about this place before taking the position. Including me.”

“Is that so?” was all I could think to say in return to his unexpectedly thoughtful comment.

Changbin lowered my resume slowly. “The job is yours, Y/N.”

“I’d still have to talk to Chan first,” I said because there’s no way I could just start working for Changbin without Chan knowing everything about the situation. Unfortunately, I could just about anticipate Chan’s response.

“That’s fine,” Changbin agreed. “You can call us tomorrow.”

I allowed a shaky nod, wondering if Changbin knew how much of an effect he still had on me all these years later.

Chan might be one of the smartest men I know, but he was, at his core, just a man who was quite whipped for his wife. Like all men, he was a sucker for lingerie, which is why I slipped on my best matching set, squeezing myself in the little black dress that I knew he really loved. 

The hem barely touched the middle of my thighs.

I was also cooking his favorite meal, the smell filling the kitchen pleasantly as I stood at the stove. My plan was quite simple: dress pretty for Chan and surprise him with his favorite food to soften him up. Maybe then he wouldn’t have a complete meltdown when I broke the news to him about my newest employer. 

But I still shivered when I heard the door open. “Y/N!”

“I’m in the kitchen,” I called back to him, attempting several meditative breaths to try and keep myself together.

“Holy shit,” he cursed, freezing in the doorway as he undoubtedly took in the sight of his wife wrapped in a tight black number.

“I’m making dinner,” I said, flashing him an arrogant smile, amused by the way he openly gaped at me while still wearing his oversized doctor’s coat. A result of an excited, freshly employed Chan filling out his form request with sloppy handwriting.

“You look hot,” Chan told me bluntly, eyes glued to my body as he eliminated the space between us with a few quick-paced steps.

“I got the job,” I said, letting out a nervous giggle as I continued to push around the searing bulgogi with a shaky hand. “Consider this a celebration.”

“That’s great, sweetie,” Chan said, standing behind me to wrap his arms around my middle, pressing soft kisses to the back of my neck, roaming hands feeling my body. “I guess the CEO liked you.”

A hellish double entendre. “Yeah, he was really nice.”

“I’m glad it worked out,” Chan said, voice next to my ear. “I didn’t want you to feel pressured to get a job or anything. I’m proud of you no matter what.”

Was it his intention to make me feel guilty? “Channie,” I sighed, turning around in his arms. “I have to tell you something.”

Chan cocked a brow. “What is it?”

“The company I’m working for...” 

“Yeah?”

“The CEO is someone we know.”

“Is that it?” Chan chuckled, accent thick as those adorable dimples filled out his smile. “Who is it, babe?”

“He used to go to school with us,” I tried, hoping that maybe Chan could just learn how to read my mind and save me the effort of mustering some kind of courage.

“Minho?” Chan teased.

“We’re not exactly friendly with him,” I said.

“Well, I don’t know if you’ve been paying attention, but I’m not exactly friendly with Minho.”

“You jerk,” I huffed, half-heartedly pushing against his chest. “You really, really don’t like this person.”

“There aren’t many people I really, really don’t like,” Chan said. “Come on, Y/N, just tell me who it is. Are you afraid I’ll be upset with you?”

I swallowed hard. “Yes.”

Chan’s smile vanished in a minute. “Y/N.”

“Seo Enterprises,” I said. “The company name.”

Realization dawned across Chan’s face. “Are you saying...”

“Changbin,” I murmured, looking down at my feet. “He’s my new boss.”

Chan let out a rough exhale because he knew exactly who Seo Changbin was and I’m pretty sure he associated the name with deep hatred. “Are you fucking serious?”

I winced at Chan’s tone because he had quickly shifted from sweet, caring husband to angry, sinister Mr. Bang in the blink of an eye. “Yes?”

“The Seo Changbin,” Chan reiterated. “The guy you fucked for like six months Freshman year?”

“That would be the one,” I said, forcing myself to meet his gaze before immediately regretting the decision.

“Why the hell would you take a job as his Secretary?” Chan demanded, crossing his arms over his chest. Normally, I would admire the sight of Chan’s arms stretching the thin fabric of his t-shirt, but now I was just intimidated.

“Because I really wanted the job,” I said. “And I didn’t think it was that big of a deal.”

“Oh, it’s a huge fucking deal,” Chan said, glaring down at me. “You think I’m okay with the idea of you working for someone you once told me you were, and I quote, definitely gonna marry?”

“But I’m married to you,” I tried, attempting a sugary-sweet tone that usually broke Chan’s resolve.

Except for tonight.

“Yeah,” Chan nodded, “You are, and I told you I would take care of you. I have enough money to support both of us, you don’t need to work at all.”

“Chan, you know I’m not comfortable sitting at home,” I said.

“I get that, Y/N, but Seo Changbin? I could get you a Secretary job at the hospital.”

“Channie, this is a position at Seo Enterprises. One of their biggest assets is New York Publishers! It’s like the perfect opportunity to get my foot in the door.”

“Y/N,” Chan groaned. “I can’t stand the thought of you working for Changbin under any circumstances.”

“I get it, Chan,” I said. “But it’s different than college. I’m married now, and Changbin is nothing more than my boss.”

“Does he really get that?” Chan asked. “I’m putting my foot down, Y/N. I don’t want you working for him, okay? You can call them tomorrow and say you’ve got something better.”

“But Channie!”

“No, Y/N,” Chan growled. “You can look for something else.”

I frowned once I realized Chan wasn’t going to back down. It didn’t matter that I wanted the job or that I had dressed up and cooked for him. For the first time since we met, Chan was refusing to give me what I wanted. “Chan, you really don’t have the right to tell me what to do.”

“I’m your husband,” Chan said, justifying his unfair demands with such patriarchal reasoning. 

“Fine,” I muttered darkly, ignoring the way his hand reached out for mine.

“Don’t be this way,” Chan said, following me as I marched to our bedroom, slamming the door closed behind me. “Y/N!” Chan shouted against the door, knocking loudly on the wood. “This is my room too!”

“Not tonight,” I informed him tersely, opening the door only to harshly shove a spare blanket and pillow at his chest. “Goodnight, darling.”

“This is Y/N,” I said into the phone. “I’m calling about-”

“One moment, Mrs. Bang, we can transfer you to Mr. Seo right away.”

“But you don’t understand...”

“Hello?”

“Changbin!” I squealed loudly into the phone, wincing at my shrill tone. 

“Y/N,” Changbin said pleasantly, voice as deep and gravelly as I remembered. “Is this the phone call I’ve been waiting for?”

“I’m not sure,” I said, making myself comfortable at the kitchen counter since I was a notorious pacer when it came to difficult conversations. “It depends on what you’re expecting.”

“I’m expecting to hear a confirmation,” Changbin said. “This is a perfect position for someone with your qualifications.”

“I know,” I groaned. “But I’m calling because I can’t take the job.”

“Really?” Changbin asked. “Can I ask why?”

“Chan isn’t comfortable with the idea,” I said.

“Is that so?” Changbin inquired, innocently enough. “I hope it isn’t because of college.”

“T-that’s not entirely why,” I stuttered because Changbin was apparently intuitive now that he owned some big, fancy company.

“I hope not,” Changbin said. “It wouldn’t be fair of Chan to keep you from a potential opportunity because of something like that.”

“It’s just a lot right now,” I said. “I haven’t had a job in a year. My last position was really good, but the company went bankrupt and I was laid off, so I’m just trying to be careful.”

“You wouldn’t have to worry about anything like that here, Y/N,” Changbin said. “This is a great opportunity for someone looking for a fresh start.”

Did he read my Facebook bio?

“I’m sure it is, Changbin, but I can’t do something that would make Chan uncomfortable.”

“But he’s not the one taking the position,” Changbin pointed out. “I can assure you, Y/N, you won’t find another position like this.”

“God, you’re good at negotiating.”

“Take the job, Y/N. I promise you won’t regret it.”

I could blame it on my desperation later, but I actually really liked the position. It promised a lot, especially considering the publishing company attached to Seo Enterprises. That would be my ultimate goal, to spend my days reading promising manuscripts while sipping expensive Starbucks coffee.

“I guess I can’t say no.”

“Then I’ll see you on Monday.”

Message to Channie

I took the job. I’m sorry but the opportunity was hard to pass up.

It only took a few seconds for Chan’s contact name to flash across my screen with an incoming call. I muted the sound like a coward, ignoring him completely while I started the ignition to the Corvette. A one-year anniversary present from Chan who was somehow more excited than I was when he first handed me the car key.

I drove to Minho’s apartment because I didn’t want to go home and I really had nowhere else to go. Plus, at least Minho was a reliable friend who really didn’t care if I crashed on his couch while he shoved cheap wine down my throat. In fact, Minho might be glad to see me since he was constantly complaining about his new hours at the shop.

“You look like shit,” Minho commented when he answered the door, standing aside to invite me inside. I shrugged off my coat, tossing it against the wall before slumping down onto the cheap sofa in Minho’s living room. The only piece of furniture he could afford in his ridiculously small New York apartment. “What happened?”

“I took the job with Changbin.”

Minho’s eyes widened in surprise. “You did? I can only assume Chan is lying somewhere on his deathbed.”

“No,” I snorted. “I took the job even though Chan asked me not to.”

“Savage,” Minho exhaled and I rolled my eyes at him.

“It’s a great opportunity!”

“When do you start?” Minho asked, feet propped up in my lap as he made himself more than comfortable next to me.

“Monday morning,” I said, mindlessly taking the remote to scroll through his limited TV channels. 

“And Chan is mad?” Minho repeated, glancing at me for confirmation. “Can you really blame him though?”

“Why?” I frowned.

“I mean, Chan’s been in love with you since high school. He used to trail after you all the time, but you only talked about Seo Changbin.”

“You’re not being a good friend right now,” I said, remembering with perfect clarity the image of a sixteen-year-old Chan, hair untamed and clothes mismatched. Chan was a constant presence in my life, even if I preened after another boy who certainly had no intention of remaining faithful.

“Go home to him, Y/N,” Minho said with far more seriousness than I was used to hearing from my still immature best friend. The same Minho who couldn’t find work for an entire year after graduation because he was too busy sleeping with any woman that walked on two legs, living with various girlfriends while slowly draining his savings account.

“Since when are you the voice of reason?” I grumbled.

“Well, we all have to grow up one day.”

I hated the rare occasions when he was right.

The house was eerily silent when I unlocked the door, spotlessly clean just as I had left it which made me feel bad because it meant Chan didn’t even try to eat anything. “You always make me worry,” I muttered, toeing off my shoes as I decided to check the bedroom. 

When Chan had first bought the house, he wanted it to look as close as possible to the random design I had pointed out at the local fair when we were Sophomore students. The plaque had deemed it the “house of the future” and I was enamored with the idea of the future back when my whole life was waiting right in front of me. A big dreamer who was already making wedding plans the moment Chan got down on one knee and proposed with his mother’s wedding ring.

“Channie,” I whispered into the darkness, cautiously tiptoeing my way to the side of the bed where Chan was facing away from me, sheets tucked in around his waist to leave his chest exposed. “I’m sorry.”

Chan let out a sigh. “What are you sorry for, Y/N?”

“I hurt you,” I said, choosing my words carefully. “I took the job with Changbin and I didn’t think about how it would affect you.”

“I fucking hate him,” Chan said, tone bitter and laced with venom. “I hate what he did to you Freshman year and I hate that he was the first person you loved.”

“Chan,” I sighed, sitting down on the edge of the bed. “I was really young and stupid back then. I should have never slept with Changbin. But he was just a fantasy, even when we were together, and I certainly never really loved him.” I leaned in closer, brushing his hair away from his forehead. “I’ve always loved you first. You mean the world to me and I’m sorry that I went behind your back to work for Changbin. But he’s definitely nothing more than a mistake from a past full of them. There’s nothing to worry about.”

Chan shifted from next to me, rolling onto his back. His eyes were looking at me like I was literally his entire world. “I’ll always worry, sweetie. You drive me insane these days.”

I grinned at the use of his pet name for me, reaching out to run a soothing hand along the defined lines of his stomach. “Don’t worry about me, darling, when you’re the one with a supermodel for a boss.”

“Fuck, we’re both screwed,” Chan said. “Does she drive you mad with jealousy?”

“Of course she does,” I said. “She has bigger tits than me.”

“Well, I like your tits,” Chan insisted. “Don’t even think about bringing up plastic surgery again.”

“It would be to your benefit,” I pointed out. 

“And the detriment to my savings account. Plus, I don’t want some old bastard fondling your tits while he pumps silicone in your chest.”

“Of all the things to worry about,” I sighed. “Does this mean we’re okay again?”

“You could probably step on me and I would still thank you for it, sweetie.”

“What if I sit on it instead?” I asked, moving my hand down to squeeze his flaccid cock.

“Makeup sex?” Chan gasped. “You don’t have to sell yourself out like this, babe.”

“Yeah? Well, I want to,” I said while proceeding to straddle his waist, smirking when Chan’s hands instantly moved to my hips. It was almost like a magnet, the reaction automatic after years of marriage. “You’re already hard,” I teased, reaching back to palm him over the sheets. 

Chan always slept in boxers which I certainly appreciated because it made the rare nights of our passionate lovemaking even more accessible. Chan lifted my shirt, groaning low when he saw that I was wearing nothing but a pair of satin panties. “This is why I’m already hard.”

“You don’t see me walking around the house in underwear,” I quipped playfully.

“It’s comfortable,” Chan whimpered, moaning when my hand found the smooth velvety head of his cock. 

“Something you never did when we were dating,” I said. “I spent weekends with you in the apartment.”

“Wanted to make a good impression,” Chan grumbled, eyes closed as he rolled his hips in time with my careful strokes. 

“So you don’t have to impress me anymore,” I said, glancing back at his cock, hot and heavy in my hand. “But I guess you still do.”

Chan moaned even louder at my words, fingers tightening in my wrinkled shirt. “Don’t make me cum yet.”

“Why not, darling?” I asked him cheekily, twisting my wrist just right, watching as a stuttered gasp fell from between his gorgeous pout.

“Wanna cum inside,” he said, biceps straining as he pulled me closer, kissing me with a desperation that only demonstrated just how gone he really was.

“Yeah?” I smirked, tongue tracing the ridges of his full lips. “I guess you deserve it after putting up with my bullshit all day.”

Chan nodded fervently and the sight was oddly endearing. It reminded me of when Chan and I first met in high school, a nerdy sixteen-year-old boy who had just transferred schools all the way from Australia. He had a thick accent, foreign and rich, just like the untamed mass of curls covering his deep brown eyes. Chan wore thick-rimmed glasses and he had a light dusting of freckles like the main character from Freckle Juice, one of my favorite childhood novels. He was nerdy and shy, sitting alone in the cafeteria at lunch and walking between classes with his shoulders hunched like he was afraid one of those horrible jocks would try to steal his bag again.

“Y/N!” he whined loudly, forcing me out of the memory.

“Alright, Channie, you want inside?”

I sat up on my knees to work down my panties, ignoring the way Chan’s fingers tried to interfere, pulling at the fabric like he could possibly make them disappear any faster. I grabbed the hem of his boxer shorts, teasingly pulling them down his thighs before brushing a kiss across the weeping tip of his cock, precum bitter on my tongue. For a moment, I admired his thick erection, remembering how nervous Chan was the very first time we had sex back before we were even old enough to drink alcohol.

I held his cock as I positioned myself over his lap. “I’ll do all the work tonight,” I said, listening to Chan’s sweet moans the entire time I slowly lowered myself onto his cock, enjoying the way he always filled me so deeply.

“Oh yeah, sweetie,” Chan grunted, hips moving messily as he tried to find a rhythm. “I’m gonna make you feel so good.”

 “Really?” I asked, swallowing down a moan when Chan hit just right, movements growing more and more confident as I returned every thrust. “I thought I was in charge tonight.”

Chan’s hands gripped my waist firmly, eyes wide open as he focused on where we were connected. “I’m always in charge.”

“Definitely,” I said, bracing my hands against his firm chest for balance because I was weak for this version of Chan. A complete contradiction to the one I first started dating, sweetly doting as he did everything in his power to make me happy. An image of a beautifully innocent Chan looking up from his position between my thighs. “It’s good?”

“So good,” I whispered aloud, peppering kisses across the pale expanse of Chan’s creamy skin, laving my tongue against a sensitive nipple which forced a temporary break from his regular tempo.

“Don’t play dirty, sweetie,” Chan said, giving me no warning before he was pushing me onto my back, hovering over me with his irresistible bedroom eyes. His hands spread my thighs wide, giving himself more room to fuck inside, movements growing faster with every step closer to what was beginning to feel like an intense orgasm. I’m talking about the kind that I could feel between my legs for days after I tried to walk straight again. “Do I need to touch you?”

“Fuck, I think you’re doing just fine,” I said. “Where the hell did this come from?”

“You woke up my competitive side,” Chan said, hitting deep like we were suddenly 20-years-old again sneaking quickies between lectures. Back then, Chan could literally fuck me against a wall, my legs wrapped around his gorgeous hips while he knocked the breath out of my lungs. Thank god, Chan decided that college would be his glory years, working out aggressively in the gym until he had muscles filling out the places where he had previously been soft. But I would always miss his pudgy stomach, even if his ass was now something out of a porn magazine. 

“Well fuck,” I moaned. “I’ll have to do this more often.”

“I’d do it all the time if I wasn’t working until 3 in the morning at the hospital,” Chan said.

“Good point, should I come in at lunch then? You can lock us in one of the empty rooms.”

“Oh shit, sweetie, you shouldn’t talk that way,” Chan growled and it was one of the sexiest sounds I had ever heard.

“I’m close,” I warned him, digging my fingers in his scalp as his teeth teased against my collarbone.

“Me too,” he said, breaths uneven as he punctuated his words with a series of harsh ruts that sent my eyes rolling into the back of my skull. His fingers found my clit, thumb pressing down hard enough to trigger one of the best orgasms I had experienced in a long time.

I tightened around his stuttering cock, moaning when I could feel his cum deep inside, warm and wet. “Shit, you’re so good at that.”

Chan pulled out slowly, eyes growing wide at the sight of his cum leaking down my ass. “Left a fucking mess though.”

“We can shower later,” I said, grabbing his arm to encourage him to lie down next to me, burying my face against his chest, scarlet-red from the exertion.

“Was the dick that good?” Chan teased, running his fingers soothingly along my spine.

“Your dick is that good,” I replied. “The genetics are strong.”

“I’ll be sure to tell my parents,” Chan said, giggling as I shot him a warning glare. “I love you, sweetie.”

“Mmm, I love you more.”

1 Week Later

Lee Felix is the spawn of the devil and nobody could convince me otherwise. Because ever since we first met, when Chan invited me over to his house for a project, Felix had decided that I was his number one enemy, deeming me “Medusa” because he was enamored with Greek Mythology. But the unfortunate nickname had stuck throughout the years, even when Felix visited our college between breaks, forcing me to sleep on the couch while he shared the bed with his step-brother. 

Recently, Felix had just finished his Master’s program for some kind of fancy Philosophy degree that would probably do him absolutely no good in the real world. But Chan was proud of his baby brother, inviting him to stay with us after graduation until Felix could stand on his own two feet. The decision was met by my instantaneous protest leading to an argument that I inevitably lost because Chan was still using Changbin as a winning point. However, even before my employment with Seo Enterprises, Felix was the cause of at least 95% of our arguments and I was not exaggerating in the slightest.

The sound of the doorbell ringing was suddenly a lot louder than I remember. “Death is here,” I said solemnly, ignoring the way Chan scoffed at my claim. I followed behind him somberly as he opened the door, letting out an excited cheer when he saw Felix waiting on the other side. Felix dropped his bag and practically screamed, which would likely wake up the entire neighborhood, jumping into his brother’s arm as the two embraced right in the middle of my foyer. 

“Could you be any louder?” I snarled at the younger Bang. 

“Maybe I could, Medusa,” Felix shot back, eyes narrowed as he picked up his bag. 

“Come on, Felix,” Chan said, nodding at the kitchen. “I bet you’re hungry.”

Felix nodded, putting on his best smile for his ignorant brother, shoving his bag harshly at my chest as he walked by. “You can take care of that for me, right Medusa?”

“You little bitch,” I muttered, meeting his glare with one of my own.

The only thing worse than going out with Felix was including Han Jisung in the equation. For whatever reason, Jisung and Felix always riled each other up, chugging down alcohol like it was fucking water or something. However, Felix wanted to see Jisung again and Chan never said no to his little brother. This is why I was currently seated next to Chan at a cheesy bar in downtown Harlem, listening to Felix and Jisung try to talk over one another as Chan looked on with fond eyes. The only good part of the night was the fact that even Chan had allowed himself to get a little tipsy which meant he was doing his absolute best to feel me up in public. I always found it amusing, knocking his hand away when his eager fingers started to trail up my skirt.

“Felix,” Jisung whined. “How can you say that?”

“Oi, there’s no way you can put Nickleback and Green Day in the same fucking category.”

I rolled my eyes at the stupid argument, smacking Chan’s hand when he started to finger the waistband of my skirt. “Chan!” Jisung pouted. “Tell him that he’s wrong.”

“Tell the philosophy major that he’s wrong?” Chan asked, accent on full display as he reached out to playfully ruffle Felix’s hair. “You can’t even answer the phone at the receptionist’s desk.”

Felix loved the attention and I hated it when he came over only to occupy Chan’s every waking hour with his never-ending thirst for affection. But I wasn’t going to let him get away with it tonight. I cleared my throat, stretching my arms back behind my head because I knew how good it would make my breasts look in the rather low-cut shirt I had chosen for tonight’s affair. I glanced over at Chan, smiling victoriously when I saw the way his eyes had glued themselves to my chest. Even Han Jisung was looking, which would normally annoy me to no end, but I was putting on my best behavior tonight. “Chan!” Felix shouted, trying to regain his brother’s attention. “Did you hear that I scored the highest honors on my research project?”

And just like that, Chan’s attention was redirected to Satan, eyes glowing with pride. “That’s amazing, Felix!”

“I can tell you all about it,” Felix said arrogantly, tossing me a cocky smile which left me absolutely incensed. “The board was so impressed, they offered to publish my results in the University’s magazine.”

“Are you serious, Felix?” Jisung asked which was an even bigger blow because the only two things occupying Jisung’s thoughts were women and alcohol. 

So I decided to push my luck, tugging down my skirt before shifting over in the booth to plant myself directly on Chan’s lap, wrapping my arms around his neck before nuzzling into his warm chest. “Channie,” I cooed while glaring at Felix from the corner of my eye. 

“Do you want something, sweetie?” Chan asked, smile blinding as one hand wrapped around my waist, leaving the other to tease the bare skin of my thighs. 

I reached for Chan’s beer, shoving the glass at him because nothing made Chan hornier than thighs and alcohol. “Should I come to see you at work tomorrow? Like we talked about before?”

Chan’s eyes lit with recognition and I smirked victoriously when I felt him grow hard in his tight jeans. “I’d really like that.”

And to seal my victory, I leaned forward to kiss my intoxicated husband, ignoring the sloppy way he reciprocated, breath musty with the taste of beer. Felix growled lowly from across the booth and Jisung let out a wolf whistle at our blatant display. But I was on cloud nine, satisfied to have won Chan’s attention because it meant Felix was going to be quite unhappy for the rest of the night.

“Medusa, aren’t you going to make me breakfast?”

I groaned as I glanced over at the alarm clock which informed me that it was only 9:00 AM. “Fuck, Felix, go back to sleep.”

“But I’m hungry,” he whined, reaching across the bed to tug on my arm.

“It’s Saturday,” I hissed, barely clinging to the wonderful promise of more sleep which would do wonders for my hungover state.

“Chan wouldn’t be happy with you,” Felix reminded me. “Should I call him at work?”

“Get out of here you little maggot,” I snapped. “I’ll fix you some damn breakfast.”

“Now!” Felix ordered like he had every right to make demands of me, but I didn’t want Felix to say anything to Chan because that would only lead to another needless argument. 

“You’re a fucking menace,” I said, throwing off my bedsheets while briefly mourning the loss of my precious sleep. But I don’t want anyone to ever say that I was a bad wife, especially when I put up with Lee Felix just to make Chan happy. 

Felix was already seated at the counter when I finally drug myself out of my bedroom, groggily reaching for a clean pan from the cabinet. “You get eggs and bacon,” I told him. “I’m not a gourmet chef.”

“Whatever,” Felix said, ignoring me completely in exchange for his cell phone. Which Chan was now paying for to help “lessen Felix’s financial burden.” 

“Chan,” I remember telling him. “You’ll spoil him if you keep doing things like that. He’ll never want to leave!”

“What’s wrong with that?” Chan had shot back as if the idea of living with his younger brother for the rest of our married life was perfectly acceptable.

“A million things,” I muttered now, cracking one of the eggs against the side of the pan. 

“I hear you’re working for Seo Changbin,” Felix abruptly spoke up, and I could practically feel his eyes on me. “He cheated on you, right?”

“It’s really none of your business,” I informed him brusquely, grabbing a spatula while wondering if I could teach Felix a lesson if I hit him a few times.

“My brother isn’t happy,” Felix continued as if my warning meant nothing to him. Probably because it didn’t. “I think it’s a bad idea, but your satisfaction always comes first, right?”

“Why the fuck did Chan tell you this?” I gritted out while aggressively slamming the fridge closed, pack of bacon gripped tightly in my hand.

“He tells me everything,” Felix said smartly. “Because he trusts me.”

“Good for you,” I huffed over my shoulder. “I’m glad you have such a close relationship with your brother.”

“Jealous?” Felix taunted, expression smug when I roughly placed down a glass in front of him.

“Is orange juice, okay?” I asked him in a faux sweet voice.

“It’s fine,” Felix shrugged. “But whatever is most inconvenient for you.”

“What a sweet little boy you are,” I said, pouring him a generous amount. “How long do you plan on staying here?”

“Chan says I can stay for as long as I want,” Felix said, narrowing his eyes. “You don’t have a problem with that, do you?”

“Of course not,” I muttered. “Two Bangs are better than one.”

“That’s right,” Felix said brightly, taking a sip from his glass. “Ugh, does this have pulp in it?”

“Drink your fucking orange juice, Felix!”

The invention of video games was a godsend because they could occupy Felix’s attention for hours, leaving me in relative peace as I tried not to let him destroy every last bit of my resolve. I was currently having a bath alone in the sanctity of my bathroom, shoulder-deep in soothing bath salts which I kept well-stocked in the cabinet underneath the sink. The aroma was pleasant, sending me to a place somewhere far away to where Felix’s were strictly prohibited.

For the entirety of the day, Felix had been doing his best to get on my nerves. I cooked him breakfast and lunch, cleaned his disgusting laundry, and even held my tongue when he requested I drive him to the mattress store because the guest bedroom was unsatisfactory. But it had always been like this between us, ever since the day I first met Felix and tried my best to make a good impression. Unfortunately, Felix idolized his older brother, deeming any girl unworthy of his time and efforts, including myself. Of course, above anyone else, Felix thought I was the worst possible choice, reminding me every second that his brother deserved someone smarter, richer, and prettier. 

Suddenly, my phone vibrated loudly on the edge of the bathtub and I hesitantly glanced at the screen, half-expecting to see Felix’s name displayed like a caution sign. Surprisingly, it was Chan who had sent me a message to ask where I was, which meant Felix had lied through his teeth and said I’d gone somewhere. 

To Channie

Bathroom.

It was only a moment or two later when the door opened and Chan stuck his head inside, offering me a pleasant smile as he locked the door behind him. “You’re home early,” I remarked, vacantly staring up at the ceiling.

“It’s Saturday night,” Chan reminded me. “I thought the three of us could go out to eat.”

I groaned in protest. “What about takeout?”

“You love going out,” Chan said. “I’ll even let you pick the restaurant.”

“I have way too many problems right now,” I said. “I’m avoiding them by staying in the water for as long as I can.”

“Sweetie,” Chan said, taking a step closer. “You should’ve waited for me.”

“Why?” I asked him airily. “You’re one of those problems.”

“Me?” Chan asked, choosing to sit down on the edge of the tub. “What did I do wrong?”

“No arguments tonight,” I said, letting out a deep sigh. “This is the most relaxed I’ve been all day.”

“Aren’t you being overdramatic?” Chan asked, reaching down to flick a trail of water in my direction. “I was in surgery for 6 hours today.”

“Yeah? Well, I’ve dealt with Felix since 9 this morning.”

“Ah,” Chan sighed. “I figured it had something to do with my brother.”

“Just forget it,” I whined. “You know we don’t get along.”

“I do know that,” Chan said. “But I wish you both made a better effort. We’re family after all.”

I shivered at the idea of Felix belonging to any family of mine. “You can keep him on your side, then. I grew up as an only child, look at how much better I turned out for it.”

“You told me you had imaginary friends growing up because you were so lonely,” Chan teased.

“Asshole,” I muttered. “That’s sensitive information that I told you in confidentiality. You should know all about patient-doctor confidentiality. Didn’t you have a whole lecture on it?”

“Y/N,” Chan lightly chastised, reaching for a towel on the rack next to the counter. “Get dressed, we’re leaving in an hour.”

“You’ve condemned me to death,” I complained, watching through lidded eyes as he stretched out his arms.

“I’m serious, Y/N, at least try to get along for my sake.”

“That’s all I ever do,” I muttered to his retreating form.

Hwang Hyunjin is a willing accomplice to the devil himself who never misses an opportunity to throw out some lascivious comments about my appearance. He was Felix’s best friend and partner in crime, sharing his goal of making my life as miserable as possible. He was also coming out to eat with us tonight and no matter how much I whined to Chan, he remained adamant that Felix should spend some time with his friends. “He’s only young once,” Chan told me, ignoring the way I glared at him with every ounce of hostility that I could muster.

“Did you paint those pants on, Y/N?” Hyunjin asked the minute he sat down in the backseat next to Felix.

“I did, actually, thanks for the unnecessary observation,” I told him shortly, still focused on the staring contest I was having with Felix in the rearview mirror.

“Don’t mind her, she’s probably on her period,” Felix said and I took in a deep breath because I was very close to turning around in my seat to choke the life out of Felix’s pencil neck.

“How have you been, Hyunjin?” Chan asked, one hand on the steering wheel as he calmly navigated us through the permanent traffic of New York.

“I applied for a job with Amazon,” Hyunjin replied. “I don’t wanna brag, but I definitely nailed the interview.”

“Yeah right,” I muttered under my breath. Hyunjin had the worst people skills in the history of mankind. He was almost as incompetent as Han Jisung, but ten times worse because of his sarcastic attitude.

“You’ll get me Amazon Prime for free, right bro?” Felix giggled and I resisted the urge to mock the sound.

“I’m proud of you, Hyunjin,” Chan said. “I know you worked hard.”

“It wasn’t a big deal,” Hyunjin said. “But the chick who interviewed me was really hot and I think I appropriately swept her off her feet.”

“Big tits?” Felix asked because that’s all those stupid boys cared about.

“Of course,” Hyunjin said. “But I’m still waiting for you, Y/N, whenever you’re ready.”

Felix scoffed. “You could do better than Medusa.”

“How about some music?” I snapped loudly, reaching down for the radio knob to block out the sounds of Felix and Hyunjin’s voices.

Monday mornings were the worst thing to ever happen to mankind next to Lee Felix. I was sipping at my morning coffee, cold now because Felix had spent way too much time ordering me around the kitchen before I left home. But it was better than nothing and I desperately needed caffeine to get through the day. “Morning, Y/N,” Changbin greeted me smoothly, suit well-pressed and fitted to hug his arms and thighs just right.

“Sure,” I said in reply, trudging to my chair in slow motion. 

“Are you always this lively in the mornings?” Changbin remarked, leaning against my desk as he looked through his mail.

“Just on Mondays,” I said, booting up my computer so that I could answer the dozens of emails likely waiting for me, most of which would come from annoying sponsors who wanted Changbin to be on their dumb podcast. 

“Well, you still look gorgeous,” Changbin said.

My cheeks flushed at his comment. “You still need to call Mr. Kim back, he’s left another voicemail.”

“Just one call?” Changbin smirked, eyes dancing dangerously. “Have you been scaring everyone off, Y/N?”

“I did just as you asked, sir.”

“You don’t have to call me sir,” Changbin chuckled, carefully engrossed in his cell phone now as he graciously returned to his own office.

I shivered as I glanced at my computer screen. Changbin was still as notoriously flirtatious as he had been when we were younger. In fact, it might be worse now that he had finally grown into his sharper features which made him look ridiculously attractive. “I love Chan, I love Chan,” I quietly repeated to myself, even as a distant memory suddenly forced itself back into consciousness.

An 18-year-old Seo Changbin walking inside my lecture hall wearing a dark button-up tucked into the tightest pair of skinny jeans he probably owned. Every eye in that lecture room had suddenly turned to him because he was an irresistible force, impossible to ignore. “Y/N?” 

Be cool Y/N, I softly chastised myself as I offered him a friendly smile. “Hi, Changbin.”

It was purely coincidental that Changbin had ended up at the same University as me, but that didn’t stop my fragile teenage heart from declaring it as something akin to fate. “It’s been a while,” Changbin said, pulling out the chair next to mine.

I swallowed hard because my mouth was as dry as a desert. “I didn’t know you were enrolled here.”

“It was my first pick,” Changbin said. “My father is an alumnus.”

“Really?” I asked, ignoring the arrival of the professor in exchange for mapping out every single one of Changbin’s gorgeous features.

“This class is just for gen ed,” Changbin said, pushing a hand through his neatly styled black hair.

“Oh, same for me,” I nodded. “I heard it was pretty easy.”

“Is that right?” Changbin asked while flashing me an award-winning smile. Roll out the red carpets because this boy was cool enough to be in an action film co-starring Tom Holland and Ancel Elgort.

But what were we talking about? “I’m majoring in English.”

“Political Science,” Changbin returned. “And Business.”

I deflated a little because, in comparison to my lousy arts degree, Changbin seemed like a certified genius. He would be educated in the art of entrepreneurship and big money while I struggled to comprehend the meaning of Great Expectations. “Have you met anyone else from high school?”

“Not yet,” Changbin said. “What about you?”

“Well, Bang Chan’s enrolled here too...” I started, only to trail off when I realized that Changbin probably had no idea who Chan was since he never paid attention to him in high school. Actually, Changbin would have been more likely to join the football jocks who liked to steal Chan’s stuff only to tie his underwear to the flagpole outside the gym.

“The nerdy Australian kid?” Changbin chuckled. “That sucks.”

“Oh,” was all I could manage since Changbin obviously didn’t know that Chan and I were friends. 

“You don’t hang out with him, do you?” Changbin asked, peering at me closely like I was seconds away from losing the honor of his company.

“We have lunch sometimes,” I said, which was only partially true since I did like to meet up with Chan in the dining hall around 2:00 because it was never crowded. But Changbin didn’t need to know that I had spent the night in Chan’s apartment listening to him record one of his mixtapes because Chan had a newfound interest in music. 

“You could do better,” Changbin sighed. “Hang out with me instead. I’ll treat you to the nicest fast food joint on campus.”

My heart was racing, palms clammy as I nodded my head rapidly. “Lunch?”

“Whatever you want, love,” Changbin said, close proximity knocking every rational thought clean out of my head.

It was like my best fantasy coming to life right before my very eyes, and after our lecture ended I asked Changbin to wait for me while I made a phone call to Chan. “Y/N!” came his cheerful voice from the other end. “Guess who got to dissect a liver today?”

I wrinkled my nose at the nasty image. Chan was studying to enter the medical program which meant a lot of his daily life centered around the human body and all sorts of things that could go wrong with it. “Chan,” I whined. “You’re talking to someone who can’t stand the sight of blood.”

“I know,” Chan sniggered. “Does this mean you’re not gonna want to eat lunch with me today? You know I’ll pay, of course, I got a raise at the cafe.”

“Well,” I started, desperately searching for the right words. “I actually have to meet with my professor for this essay I’ve been having trouble with.”

“No problem,” Chan said. “I’ll bring you takeout for dinner. Doesn’t your roommate have practice tonight?”

I glanced back at Changbin with a guilty conscience. Why did Chan have to be so sweet all the time? “Yeah, that’s fine.”

“No liver talk, I promise,” Chan giggled and I hung up the phone before he could make me feel even worse than I already did.

“You want to get some lunch?” Changbin asked with his hands dug inside his pockets as he stood in front of my desk.

“Like, with me?” I asked warily because I wasn’t sure where the line stood on professionalism when it involves eating with an ex-boyfriend.

“Who else?” Changbin said. “I figured we could use a break from the phone calls.”

“I don’t know...” I answered hesitantly because Chan would probably lose his shit if he discovered I went out anywhere with Changbin.

“It’s not a big deal, Y/N,” Changbin said. “My job is to make sure my employees are well taken care of.”

“I guess,” I sighed, reaching down for my purse on the floor. “One lunch together won’t hurt anything.”

But Changbin seemed awfully smug, patiently waiting for me to gather my belongings, stuffing my phone with an unanswered text from Chan inside my side pocket. It’s almost like the universe was conspiring against me, doing its very best to try and force me into the worst situations possible. Here’s an irrational thought: what if Chan happened to decide to go out for lunch today? He might find me with Changbin and I couldn’t think of a worse scenario. Of course, I suppose it doesn’t necessarily have to be Chan who finds us. For example, if his younger step-brother was to suddenly wander in the building at this very moment...

“Medusa!”

Curse you, universe!

“Felix?” 

“I brought us lunch!” Felix chirped brightly, holding up a picnic basket as he waltzed right up to my desk with far more confidence than necessary.

I blinked my eyes rapidly, unable to process the idea that Felix was standing in the middle of the company’s lobby. “Is it poisoned?” I asked, trying not to alert him to any possible wrongdoing.

Felix ignored me, turning around to face Changbin with a critical gaze. “Seo? Is that you?”

“Felix,” Changbin acknowledged, frowning as if he was the last person on earth he wanted to see, and I could share the sentiment.

“Fuck,” Felix cursed, taking a step back. “You still look really young. I was surprised when Y/N told me you were her new boss.”

“I didn’t tell you that,” I said, opening the flaps of the basket only to let out a disgruntled sigh when I realized he had only brought a bag of chips and a tray of cookies.

“And what are you doing these days?” Changbin asked.

“Freelance work, mostly,” Felix replied as if he really needed to lie to Changbin about his lack of a suitable occupation.

“I forgot what you majored in,” Changbin said. “It was hard to keep up since you changed your concentration like a dozen times.”

I couldn’t hold back my laugh, even when Felix sneered in my direction. “Philosophy.”

“Interesting,” Changbin said, nodding his head. “I’m actually surprised to hear that. You never settled on anything.”

Seo Changbin needed to be careful because his charm points were dramatically increasing the more he mocked my husband’s step-brother. “I actually just finished my Masters.”

“Really?” Changbin said. “This coming from the same boy who used to party with Hwang Hyunjin at all the Fraternities, even if they were on a different campus.”

“It was just Freshman year,” Felix defended himself. 

“Well,” Changbin started, “I’m glad to hear about your graduation. Y/N and I were actually just about to head out to lunch.”

I winced at his words, withering under Felix’s accusing watch. “Is that so?”

Changbin carefully studied the two of us. “I’ll be waiting in my car, Y/N.”

I grabbed my bag while pushing the picnic basket back in Felix’s direction. “I swear to god if you tell Chan about this, I’ll castrate you in your sleep.”

“We’ll see about that,” Felix growled, and that was the moment I realized that I was treading very dangerous waters.

Changbin drove us to a charming restaurant about two blocks away from the main company building. He pulled right up to the sidewalk, handing his keys to the waiting carhop as if he had done this about a thousand times. But I guess that was pretty likely considering just how well-off he was ten years later. “Impressive,” I remarked to him, reluctantly accepting his outstretched hand as he helped me out of his car.

“Yeah?” Changbin said, offering me a wink. “Maybe I’m trying to impress you.”

“You’re a dangerous man, Seo Changbin,” I told him, bowing slightly to the waiting doorman who kindly ushered us inside.

This was why the pretty girls always lusted after Changbin. When we were both still in high school, Changbin epitomized the phrase #BoyfriendGoals because he was super attractive, incredibly smart, and athletic enough to earn himself a shining record after an impressive baseball season. And I was just as mindless as the rest of the zombies chasing him down in the parking lot at school or squealing his name in the hallways between classes.

“I eat here all the time,” Changbin assured me, flashing the hostess a dazzling smile while handing her his card. 

“Right this way, Mr. Seo,” the hostess curtsied, ignoring the long line of waiting patrons who apparently didn’t matter as much as my new boss as she led us to a private table. “Your waitress will be with you shortly.”

“Thank you,” I said politely, eyes wide as I took in the gorgeous chandelier dropping from the high-domed ceiling.

“Close your mouth, Y/N,” Changbin said. “You act like you’ve never been somewhere like this before.”

“Not exactly,” I said because the nicest place Chan had ever taken me was an Olive Garden and that had ended poorly after Chan accidentally knocked his shoulder against a poor server on his way back to the table causing an avalanche of salad and breadsticks.

“Bang should be taking you to places like this all the time,” Changbin commented, perhaps a casual observation to anyone else.

I narrowed my eyes suspiciously. “Chan and I prefer to keep things low-key.”

“Should I have taken you to Applebees instead?”

“How funny.”

“I’m kidding, Y/N,” Changbin said, reaching down to adjust the buttons on his coat sleeve. “You’ve changed a lot since college.”

“Since we dated you mean?” I asked with an arched brow.

“Well,” Changbin started, “if you want to think of it like that.”

“Hmmm,” I briefly meditated, studying Changbin’s expression carefully. “How else should I think about it.”

Changbin tsked, raising a hand to signal for a nearby waiter. “I don’t mean to suggest anything.”

The waiter approached our table with purposed steps. “How may I help you, sir?”

“A wine menu?” Changbin asked, nodding generously when the waiter returned with his requested selection. 

“You make a beautiful couple,” the waiter gushed while he pulled out a thick leather wallet, flipping to a fresh page.

“Oh! We’re not-”

“-A bottle of pinot noir, please,” Changbin said, returning the menu without bothering to correct the waiter’s observation.

“Right away, sir,” the waiter agreed.

I held my tongue until he was further away, bothering an older couple who were probably complaining about something to do with their food. “Changbin,” I warned him. “You should be careful.”

“It was a harmless mistake,” Changbin said. “How can I possibly come between you and Bang?”

I worried my bottom lip between my teeth because it sounded less like a dismissal and more like a challenge.

The sun was already setting by the time I returned home thanks to one of Changbin’s business partners who refused to leave the office building until they had a chance to speak to him. I was low on patience, tired from an exhausting day of dealing with telemarketers insisting our company needed the latest software for our clientele. There was only a limited number of times I could tell somebody to fuck off before inevitably shouting into the other end that I was in no way interested in whatever useless product they were trying to shove down my throat, complete with some kind of scammy discount and an opportunity to be represented on their website.

To make matters worse, my feet were blistered from wearing heels all day and my shoulders ached from slouching over my computer to answer emails and monitor the progress of Changbin’s latest project. My only saving grace was the message Chan had sent me earlier telling me that he had already clocked out at work, which meant I could probably guilt him into giving me one of his trademarked messages. I mean, all I wanted to do was curl up next to Chan in bed and sleep for the rest of the day.

But it looked like my desires would have to wait because as soon as I unlocked the door to the house, I could immediately sense that something was wrong. Taking a deep breath, I cautiously walked into the living room to find Chan and Felix busy with some kind of video game on our HD TV, volume high until I walked in the room. Chan waited until I called his name, reaching for the remote to mute the TV before tossing his controller onto the coffee table. From across the room, Felix’s eyes were alight with mischief.

“How was work today?” Chan asked with a tone that I only ever heard when my husband was feeling particularly pissed off about something, and I had a sneaking suspicion it involved me in some capacity.

“It was fine,” I said, deciding to play it safe while I kept my complaints to myself.

Felix smirked in my direction, whistling to himself as he reached for his game controller. “Felix told me something interesting today.”

“Oh did he?” I asked, wondering just how much pain Felix could tolerate if I marched over to him right now and hit him with an umbrella.

“He said he tried to have lunch with you.”

“I was busy.”

“With Seo Changbin?”

Felix was definitely going to die tonight. That little snitch deserved every ounce of punishment I was starting to formulate inside my head. “He invited me out instead.”

“I got that,” Chan snapped and I knew my husband was in a foul mood. I’m talking about the kind of mood that usually sent me scampering for the safety of the bunkers. Like the time some drunk asshole rear-ended Chan’s precious convertible while we were sitting in downtown traffic. Or the time when we were Freshmen in college and Chan confronted Changbin after finding out that he had been cheating on me.

But this time the problem was me which meant I couldn’t just hide from Chan and wait for things to go back to normal. “Honey,” I attempted to reassure him. “It was just lunch.”

“Yeah? But that doesn’t seem like keeping things strictly professional to me, Y/N.”

“He’s my boss now, I can’t just tell him no.”

“Actually, you can,” Chan disagreed, now refusing to look at me. “How would you like it if I ate with my new superintendent?”

“Depends on if she offered to pay or not.”

“Y/N.”

“Chan,” I pouted. “I’m really sorry! He just surprised me.”

“It makes me wonder what else you might be doing with him,” Chan snarked.

Meanwhile, Felix calmly continued to play his video game while wearing the biggest shit-eating grin. “Are you accusing me of having an affair?”

“Why not?” Chan shrugged. “Since we’re keeping secrets from each other.”

“It was just one lunch,” I shouted. “He’s never done anything like this before. Most of the time I’m alone in the lobby taking his stupid phone calls.”

“And that’s all I should ever hear about,” Chan growled. 

“You’re making this into a bigger deal than it needs to be,” I scoffed, rolling my eyes before remembering just how much Chan hated it when I did that to him.

“Y/N,” Chan addressed me sternly, deciding to abandon his seat on the couch to crowd me in the foyer. “If this was anyone else, I wouldn’t make it into a bigger deal, but this is someone you used to fuck while running around campus bragging about it to everyone who would listen...which was usually me!”

“He doesn’t mean anything to me,” I said. “I already told you that!”

“You’ve said a lot of things recently,” Chan said. “I’m not sure what to believe anymore.”

“Yeah? Well, it’s your brother’s fault since he’s always looking to cause a fight between us,” I said, glaring at Felix while he continued to play the part of the perfect little angel that Chan always considered him.

“Don’t drag Felix into this, he has nothing to do with anything!”

“Oh, don’t be stupid, Chan,” I huffed. “We fight more about Felix than we do about Changbin.”

“Stupid?!”

Oh, Jesus, Y/N, when are you going to learn to watch your big mouth? “Channie, I’m tired of fighting all the time. I feel like we’re always fighting.”

“Yeah? Well, you give me a lot of reasons to stay mad at you.”

“For fuck’s sake,” I groaned. “We never fought this much when we were dating.”

“Is that so? You think our marriage is the problem?”

I froze at his implications. At this point, Felix might as well drag out a bucket of popcorn because this was probably the most interesting drama he had watched all year. “Chan, you can’t honestly believe that.”

“I don’t know what to believe anymore,” Chan said, shaking his head. “But maybe I’ll give you some time to think about it.”

“Chan!” I whined, fighting back tears as I watched him turn his back on me. For the first time since we had met, Chan was leaving an argument unresolved, choosing to lock himself away in our bedroom while I struggled to keep myself together in the middle of our foyer. 

“Goodbye, Y/N,” Felix whispered into the silent room, waving his fingers at me because he had gotten exactly what he wanted.

Felix’s birthday often turned into a multiple-day affair because he always wanted the best that money could buy. Since Chan and I still weren’t speaking to one another, Chan was taking the brunt of party preparations which meant Felix was practically over the moon with excitement. And why shouldn’t he be? He hit the metaphorical jackpot because he somehow got me in the doghouse while he soaked up all of Chan’s attention. 

“Y/N,” Felix whined. “My toast is burnt!”

“Sorry,” I murmured softly, taking his plate even though the bread looked perfectly fine. Meanwhile, Chan chose not to say a word, heavily engrossed in his laptop and doing his absolute best to pretend I was invisible. 

“What about this, Felix?” he asked, tilting his laptop screen so that his brother could see whatever it was that probably cost hundreds of dollars. On the other hand, I couldn’t even find the courage to ask Chan for his credit card so that I could replace the broken stool at our counter.

“That’s perfect, Channie!” Felix grinned, hanging off his brother’s shoulder like the little pest he was. 

Our Amazon shopping cart was steadily filling with Felix’s party supplies. But I guess it was just Chan’s account now since he had changed the password without telling me. I tried to order a new curtain for the bathroom, only to repeatedly watch the warning screen pop-up with every refresh of the page. “Who do you want at your party?” Chan asked Felix.

“Hyunjin, Jisung...” Felix started, listing out each name while I winced every time because our house would probably end up completely trashed at this rate.

“Whatever you want,” Chan said, apparently forgetting the last time Jisung came over only to break one of my grandmother’s expensive vases. Since it was my stuff, he probably didn’t care. “I have to leave soon,” Chan said, wordlessly clicking on the ‘place your order ’ button before logging off.

“Will you be gone all day again?” Felix pouted, jutting out his bottom lip and offering his very best puppy dog eyes.

23-years-old my ass.

“I’ll do my best,” Chan promised his brother. “Do you need anything while I’m out.”

“More chocolate cereal?”

10-years-old more likely.

“I’ll see you tonight,” Chan cooed to Felix, ruffling his hair before snatching his coat from my outstretched hand, refusing to even acknowledge my existence. 

Felix waited until Chan was gone to lean in across the counter. “You two are so cute, Medusa.”

“I fucking hate you,” I said, aggressively attacking the grease stain on the stainless steel pot I was currently washing.

“Whatever,” Felix shrugged. “Will you ask Minho to come to my birthday party?”

“There’s not a fucking chance in hell that I’m asking him,” I snapped.

“Why?” Felix posed the question as if he felt absolutely no shame. “I like Minho and I want him to be there.”

“Fuck off,” I retorted, drying my hands against the rough texture of the dishtowel.

Felix sniffled, reaching for his phone and holding it up to his ear. “Channie? Yeah, Y/N was being really mean to me-”

“-Jesus, fine, I’ll ask him,” I quickly interrupted the little Devil. “How old are you turning again?”

“24!” Felix grinned. 

“Then act like it,” I muttered while dialing Minho’s number.

There were only two rings before he answered. “It’s too early on Saturday for this bullshit, Y/N,” came Minho’s pleasant voice from the other end.

“You sleep too much anyway,” I returned. “I have something to ask you.”

“It better be pretty fucking important.”

“Will you come to Felix’s stupid birthday party this Friday?” I asked him, ignoring Felix’s bright smile as he tried to listen in on our conversation.

“Did you buy booze?”

“I’m sure Chan will buy the little bastard all the booze he wants,” I said, pushing Felix out of the way.

“What time?” Minho asked. “I’m a very busy man, Y/N.”

“The hell you are,” I snorted. “9:00 PM. Don’t be late! I’ll be the pathetic piece of trash sitting on the couch alone.”

“It’s about time you learn, Y/N,” Felix remarked, giggling when I threw the dishtowel at him.

“Still in trouble with hubby?” Minho asked. “I hear you have to stay separated for a year before the courts grant divorces these days.”

“You’re an asshole,” I said. “Should I put you down on the guest list?”

“Of course,” Minho said. “Underlined because I’m a VIP”

I hung up on him before he could dig his grave any deeper.

“Don’t burn that,” Felix scolded me, hovering by my side to play the part of Gordon Ramsay while I sweated my ass off to cook everything on his stupid party menu.

“It’s not burnt,” I grumbled. 

“I hope you’re not wearing that to my party,” Felix said, casting a critical eye over my outfit. 

I reached down to adjust the waistband of my skirt. “What’s wrong with it?”

“This is a classy party, Y/N, and you look like a hooker.”

“Go help your brother or something,” I said, doing my best to be nice since it was Felix’s birthday. I could manage some form of kindness even if he didn’t deserve it.

“Chan’s fine,” Felix waved me off even though I was certain I saw Chan struggling to hang up lights on the balcony just moments ago when I went to change my clothes.

I glanced at the clock above the stove. “Your fellow party animals will be here soon.”

“You’re not cool enough for those references,” Felix told me as he straightened his tie. 

“I wasn’t trying to be,” I said, wiping my forehead with a nearby towel. My makeup was probably smeared but I didn’t care. Who was I hoping to impress anyway? The only person I dressed up for was Chan and he could care less about my appearance.

And it was only a few minutes later when the doorbell started to ring. I took a deep breath to try and reassure myself that I could make it through tonight without another Advil. “Someone’s here!” Felix squeaked, knocking his shoulder against mine in his haste to answer the door.

“No matter who it is, I’ll still be in hell,” I muttered, closing my eyes when I recognized Hyunjin’s voice mixing with Felix’s.

“Y/N!” Hyunjin sang, poking his head in the kitchen as if he owned the place. “There you are! Looking all pretty for us.”

“That was the goal,” I half-heartedly quipped back, turning off the stove once I declared Felix’s stupid Tteok-bokki cooked enough.

“Your legs look good,” Hyunjin said, abruptly leaning in closer. “Are you even wearing anything under that skirt?”

“Hyunjin!” Felix shouted his friend’s name from the living room. “Come check out the decorations.”

Hyujin blew a kiss in my direction, tossing me a poor excuse for a wink. “Bye, Y/N!”

Maybe one more Advil wouldn’t hurt.

The party was in full swing by the time Minho finally arrived, greeting Felix with some kind of cheesy handshake. It was too late for me and I had already resigned myself to the futon of isolation in the living room, mourning the loss of one of my good dishes thanks to Han Jisung deciding to request something fancier than our regular set. “Sorry, Y/N,” Jisung had apologized. “I’m sure you can easily replace it.”

“Yeah, I’m sure my dead grandmother has another lying around somewhere,” I snarled in his direction, ignoring his wide-eyed look of disbelief as I searched for the broom.

Minho eventually finished his conversation with Felix, offering me a sympathetic look while occupying the last remaining chair. “Y/N?”

“Oh, I’m doing just fine,” I told him.

“You look miserable,” Minho informed me, throwing up his feet on my glass coffee table even though I had told him countless times before to keep his dirty socks on the floor.

“Chan hates me,” I said. “Felix is happy.”

“Ah,” Minho nodded. “Trouble in paradise?”

“It’s all Felix’s fault,” I sniped. “He found out I went to lunch with Changbin and told Chan because he knew it would lead to an argument.”

“He still doesn’t like you?” Minho snorted as if the idea were amusing.

“Felix has hated me since the beginning of time. He was brought to this Earth to cause me misery.”

“I’m sure that’s an exaggeration,” Minho said. “Where is Chan, anyway?”

“I don’t know,” I sighed. “If he wasn’t with Felix, then you might want to check the balcony. I think I saw him sneaking the Advil bottle out there earlier.”

Minho snickered. “You don’t even realize it, but you two are grossly similar. I’m sure Chan would have preferred a quiet dinner out somewhere.”

“Well, Felix always gets what he wants,” I said. ���It’s been this way since high school.”

Minho considered me for a moment. “In his defense, Chan has always been Felix’s best friend. They’ve been attached at the hip since they were kids, but then you came into the picture. Suddenly, Chan isn’t as interested in spending all his time with Felix any more.”

“Are you saying I need to find Felix a girlfriend?”

“Y/N,” Minho said softly. “I’m just saying, maybe you need to think about things from Felix’s perspective for once. You were an only child, so you can’t understand what it means to share a close relationship with a brother.”

“Hmm, well you’re like a brother to me,” I teased him.

“Ugh,” Minho gagged. “You’ve had my dick in your mouth before, Y/N, please never say that again.”

“I was trying to be sweet,” I said. “But you ruined it.”

“Did I?” Minho smirked, glancing up at something behind me. “Are you having a good time, Felix?”

“We’re out of beer,” Felix interrupted, face suddenly mere inches from mine. 

“You shouldn’t drink like a fish.”

“Medusa,” Felix tried again, holding out a ring of car keys. “Make yourself useful and buy us some more beer.”

I rolled my eyes but acquiesced. “Whatever you want, your majesty.”

I hated winter in New York City because the sidewalks were icy all the time and I was constantly in danger of rolling my ankle. Nevertheless, I tolerated the snow and wind by trading my heels for rain boots and wrapping my body in the thickest coat I owned. Normally, I might consider walking to the convenience store, but tonight I knew my fingers would be nothing but frozen icicles if I attempted that perilous journey.

Thankfully, the traffic was fairly light this late at night which allowed a relatively quick drive to the store, parking my corvette at the sidewalk. I walked inside with a muffled greeting to the store attendant, searching down the aisle to where the beer was stocked in the freezers. “He didn’t even tell me what he wanted,” I scoffed, deciding on the expensive Corona from the bottom shelf since Felix always liked things more when they cost a lot of money.

“Having a party?” the store attendant joked, accepting my debit card after ringing up the cases. 

“Something like that,” I said, wondering if that was always his assumption if someone bought more than one bottle of the nasty smelling beverage.

Meanwhile, it had started snowing again when I walked back outside, popping the trunk to store the beer until I finally returned home. I switched on the ignition and turned on the heat to its fullest setting before sitting back in my seat to wrap my arms around myself, fighting off a series of chills. The action reminded me of Junior Year when Chan and I used to make late-night trips to the gas station near his apartment complex. We’d buy all sorts of unnecessary snacks, driving back together because we had planned a movie marathon of Harry Potter. Chan always complained about the films I liked, but he watched them anyway because he knew I enjoyed them.

I came to a stop at a red light, frowning when I noticed that nobody was coming in either direction. “Change already,” I ordered the traffic light as if it could possibly accommodate my request. 

“I’ll teach you patience, Y/N,” Chan once told me after we waited nearly an hour in a heavy downpour outside the comic book shop because he just had to have some kind of rare edition figurine.

The traffic light eventually turned green and I rolled out into the intersection, never noticing the reckless SUV until mere seconds before it crashed into the side of my car.

I had the worst luck in the world when it came to relationships. First, there was my tired rendezvous with Minho in high school, blowing my best friend in the bathroom because he’d always fuck me with his fingers afterward. Then, there was that slimy bastard Seo Changbin who I willingly gave my virginity to, thinking he was the love of my life. That was before I found out he was cheating on me with some sleazy cheerleader thanks to a couple of photos surfacing on Facebook. My heart was instantly broken, pride in shambles as I spent an entire week hiding out in my dormitory ignoring all phone calls and text messages as I cried over a boy who never deserved my attention in the first place.

I plucked a few strands of grass from the ground next to my feet, savoring the first taste of sunlight I had allowed myself since that unfortunate discovery. Who the hell did Seo Changbin think he was anyway? Playing with my heart like that as if it meant absolutely nothing to him. 

At least I wasn’t sad anymore, having spent enough time crying over the destructive boy. Now, all I could think about was smacking that stupid smug grin off his face while thoroughly purging my built-up frustrations...“Y/N?”

I turned around quickly at the sound of Chan’s voice, rising to my feet to brush the loose grass and dirt from my jeans. “Channie,” I said, nervously wringing my hands in front of me. Chan was probably mad at me since I had been ignoring him all week.

“Are you okay?” he asked instead, tone surprisingly gentle as he stopped in front of me.

“Not really,” I told him honestly.

“I didn’t think so,” Chan said, features hardening. “I’ll beat the shit out of Seo for you.”

I shook my head. “That won’t do any good.”

“But if it makes you feel better,” Chan said, reaching out to delicately swipe his thumb under my eyes. “You aren’t sleeping.”

It was more of a statement rather than a question, but I still felt the need to reassure him. “I promise that I’m okay.”

“You don’t have to lie to me,” Chan said, offering me a kind smile. “I can tell, you know?”

“Yeah you’re good at that,” I groused. 

“I’m pretty good at a lot of things when it comes to you,” Chan admitted, eyes holding a pure kind of affection as they appraised me.

“I’m glad I have you,” I said, letting out a sigh as I allowed my head to rest against the center of his chest. “You don’t think I’m stupid for trying things out with Changbin?”

“You’ve always liked him,” Chan said with a bitter tone that sounded more like a jealous lover rather than a friend.

I chose not to say anything. “I hope the two of them make each other miserable.”

Chan chuckled. “Is this your form of revenge?”

“I don’t think it’ll work out in my favor,” I said, pressing myself even closer to Chan, pausing when my hand drug across his stomach. “Holy shit, Channie, you weren’t kidding about the gym.”

“Did you not believe me?”

“Who are you trying to impress?” I grinned, propping my chin against his sternum to make it easier to look into his eyes.

“It’s always been the same person,” Chan said vaguely, dimples on display as he considered me. “I hope Seo didn’t destroy your faith in relationships.”

“It wouldn’t be entirely his fault,” I sighed. “All my relationships have been complete failures.

“Y/N,” Chan whispered, brushing a light kiss across my forehead. “Maybe it’s because you’ve never tried the right guy.”

The memory was laced with something warm, an association that stood in stark contradiction to my current condition, slowly opening my eyes to a pulsing room, somehow much too bright for my pupils to adjust. Was I alive? I wondered because I couldn’t really feel anything which was certainly disarming. But then there was a familiar smell, rancid and burning, and it made me feel like I was definitely not in any sort of happy afterlife. There was also the problem of the blurry figure slowly coming into focus next to me, fiddling with an array of wires twisting together with the sounds of a machine distantly clicking in the background. I watched through hooded eyes as the now perceivable person in question handled an impressively large needle, pinching my skin painfully at the juncture of my elbow. 

“Han Jisung,” I began, startling him from where he was checking the IV. “Just put a fucking needle into my arm. What hellish realm have I descended into?”

“Y/N!” Jisung squealed loudly, leaning down to press a sloppy kiss against my forehead. 

“What the hell was that for?”

“For not dying,” Jisung sighed in relief. “When you came in, there was nothing but blood and glass everywhere!... Oh, and Chan may or may not have a fine against him for beating the living shit out of the asshole that hit you.”

“Why are you so loud?” I groaned, palming my forehead because the room was still swimming into focus. “What happened?”

“You probably don’t remember,” Jisung said. “It was a pretty bad concussion, but you were in a car accident.”

“I was?” I questioned, struggling to recall anything past a few minutes ago when I first realized that incompetent Han Jisung was sticking pointy objects into my veins.

“Chan was so upset,” Jisung said. “He wanted to do the surgery, but the superintendent wouldn’t let him.”

“Surgery?” I repeated. “I had surgery?”

“Cuz’ of your ribs,” Jisung said quietly as if finally realizing that he probably shouldn’t be saying all this to me at once, especially if the persistent beeping of the heart monitor was something to be concerned about.

“What’s wrong with my ribs?” I asked, somewhat panicking as I felt down my chest, noticing the thick bandage wrapped around my upper body. 

“Chill, Y/N,” Jisung placated, reaching around me to adjust the monitor. “Now I can’t get an accurate reading!”

“So sorry to inconvenience you,” I said with a hoarse voice, reaching up to quickly wrap my hand around my throat. “Is there something wrong with my voice?”

“Well, you’ve been out for three days so...”

“Three days!”

Now I was definitely panicking, full-on hysteria as the heart monitor loudly detected the irregular contraction of the muscle thundering aggressively against my chest. It was enough to alert the doctor on duty, walking into my room to check on his patient, scolding Jisung harshly as he filled a syringe with a clear liquid. “Don’t worry, Y/N,” he said kindly, injecting the fluid into my IV. “Just relax.”

My eyelids fluttered closed, overwhelmed by a disjointed sense of calm that gradually pulled me back under the current of drug-induced bliss.

“Sweetie.”

My eyes flew open at the sound of his voice, the best wake-up call in the whole world. I slowly turned my head to the side, taking in the sight of my disheveled husband, eyes blood-shot with heavy dark bags haunting tight circles against his pale skin. “Channie?”

“I’m so sorry, Y/N,” Chan sniffled, fresh tears swelling his cheeks as he leaned in closer to grip tightly to my hand. “It’s all my fault.”

I considered him closely, wondering what he could possibly mean by accepting blame for whatever was causing him obvious pain. I faintly remember Jisung telling me about am accident, but it was difficult to really think back any further, like a wall had enclosed around my brain, refusing to allow anything else to come into consciousness. But Chan didn’t need to cry, he was usually the best part of my life, waking up in bed together to share sweet kisses or eagerly waiting for him to come home and swoon over my newest K-Drama obsession. “Why are you sad?” I asked him, reaching out to do my best and wipe away those nasty tears.

“You wouldn’t answer your phone,” Chan cried, heart-wrenching sobs that broke my heart with every heavy inhale. “I didn’t know where you were.”

“Is that why you’re upset?” I asked, wiping away a few mischievous curls that had wandered into his eyes. 

“I found you in the intersection,” Chan whispered. “And the car...” he trailed off with a choking gasp as if the details were too horrific to describe. 

“I’m here now, Channie,” I said, desperate to relieve his sadness. “I didn’t go anywhere.”

Chan nodded furiously, pressing a wet kiss to the back of my hand. “I can’t lose you like that, sweetie.”

“Well, I plan to stick around for a while,” I said, earning me a half-smile in return. “Channie,” I whispered, glancing around the room conspiratorially. “Is there anything good to eat in this place?”

This time Chan did laugh and it was the best medicine I could possibly have.

“Vitals?” Chan asked, lingering around the poor nurse who clearly wasn’t expecting this much attention over one patient when she clocked in this morning.

“I already checked them,” the nurse informed him, writing down something on the chart clipped to the edge of my bed. I sipped my water as I watched the two of them, wondering if Chan had been this overbearing the entire time.

“Temperature?”

“98 degrees.”

“Blood pressure?”

“122/75”

“Respiration?”

“Chan,” I whispered softly, immediately drawing my husband’s attention who was at my side in an instant. “I think the nurse knows how to do her job.”

The poor woman shot me a grateful smile as she re-clipped my chart, hurrying out of the room as if she couldn’t possibly escape fast enough. “Sorry,” Chan said, taking his seat next to me. “I’m just worried.”

“I get discharged tomorrow,” I told him. “Pretty sure that means I’m just fine.”

“But your leg,” Chan whined, fussily messing with the large cast, tucking the blankets in securely.

“It’ll heal,” I said, frowning as I picked at the squishy jello the nursing staff had brought in earlier. “Isn’t there anything else to eat?”

Chan tsked. “That’s good for you, Y/N. It’s full of necessary vitamins.”

I should have known better than to ask my doctor husband if I could possibly have something that actually had flavor to eat. No matter how much I begged and pleaded, Chan refused to waver from the nasty daily meals I was brought, much to my disappointment. “I’d kill for a burger.”

“Too much fat,” Chan said, turning down the idea before I could possibly try to negotiate.

“It physically hurts me to eat,” I tried. “I think they’re secretly plotting my death.”

“Y/N,” Chan scolded lightly. “There’s a reason why we serve this to patients, alright?”

I frowned at him but shoved a spoonful of the nasty substance in my mouth, earning me a pleased smile in response. “Happy?”

“You can have better food tomorrow,” Chan said, pausing as he reached down to check his phone notifications. “Minho is here,” he grumbled. “I guess I’ll go get him from the lobby before he gets lost.”

“Thank you, darling,” I chirped, accepting his brief kiss.

“I’ve seen worse,” Minho declared, ignoring Chan’s disbelieving scoff. 

“You obviously weren’t here when she was first brought in,” Chan growled to him.

“How are you feeling, Y/N?” Minho asked, disregarding Chan who had gone back to check the dozens of machines somehow monitoring my every possible bodily function.

“Hungry,” I grimaced, pointing to my discarded container.

Minho lifted it curiously, bringing it his nose before he let out an unattractive grunt. “Is this garbage?”

“Don’t encourage her,” Chan said, reaching for my chart for the millionth time that day. “I’ll be right back, Y/N.”

“Okay,” I said, rolling my eyes once his back was turned.

I waited until Chan was gone before desperately reaching out for Minho. “You’ve got to help me, Minho! I can’t stand another day of jello and mashed potatoes. Get me a Big Mac and I’ll give you the number of one of my work acquaintances.”

 Minho raised an interested brow. “Scale?”

“Oh, she’s definitely an 8...please!”

“That’s impossible to turn down, Y/N,” Minho grinned. “Give me ten minutes.”

I snatched his sleeve before he could walk away. “Make sure Chan doesn’t see.”

“So ask Han Jisung to fuck something up, got it.”

“You’re my best friend in the entire world. The rest of my life will be spent in your servitude.”

Minho offered me a brief salute and I solemnly nodded my head while ignoring the way my stomach growled.

It was growing dark outside and I’m pretty sure Jisung had accidentally given me too much of whatever pain medicine I had been prescribed. I could barely keep my eyes open as Chan settled next to me on his chair. “Y/N,” he said softly, picking at an invisible string on his suit pants. “I want to talk to you about the fight we had.”

My exhaustion vanished in a flash. “Okay,” I said, even though I had been hoping Chan would just forget that the fight even happened.

“I owe you an apology,” Chan said. “For acting like a jealous prick. I shouldn’t have yelled at you like that.”

“It’s my fault too,” I said. “I know how you feel about him, but I still went out anyway.”

“It wasn’t that bad,” Chan said, swallowing down the lie even though I could always read him like a book. “But every time I think about Seo Changbin, I can’t help but remember Freshman year.”

“You act like he broke your heart instead,” I tried to joke, but Chan was everything but amused.

“Yeah, he did break your heart, Y/N, and I’ll never forgive him for it. He was an arrogant bastard back then, and I’m sure that hasn’t changed much.”

“Not really,” I agreed, recalling our prior lunch arrangement.

“And I’ll never be okay with the fact that you work with your ex-boyfriend, but since you love the job so much, I can’t possibly fight with you anymore,” Chan said. “I should trust you as my wife.”

“I’m not remotely interested in Changbin,” I said. “It just sucks that he’s got good connections.”

“But if he tries anything on you...”

“Don’t worry,” I reassured him. “I would never do anything to hurt you, even if his thighs look super good these days.”

“Y/N.”

“I know, Channie,” I giggled, reaching for his hand. “Trust me, alright? I don’t plan to work there forever. Fingers crossed for a promotion to the publisher.”

“I’ll pray every night if I have to,” Chan said. “As for Felix...”

“Don’t worry about him,” I said. “I know that I should try harder to get along with Felix.”

“It’s a two-way street,” Chan countered. “I’ve spoken to him about everything.”

“You have?” I wavered. “What did he say?”

“Well, he feels really bad about the accident,” Chan said. “I think he realizes how much better things would be if you guys were on friendlier terms.”

“He really looks up to you,” I said, recalling Minho’s words from before. “I hope he doesn’t feel like I’m trying to steal you away.”

“Felix and I have always been close,” Chan said. “We both had a hard time moving here from Australia. But at the end of the day, we could rely on each other..”

“High school wasn’t very good to either of you,” I said.

“Well, except for you of course,” Chan said, attempting a smile. 

“They were mean to you, Channie,” I said, “and you didn’t deserve any of it.”

“I’ve gotten over that,” Chan insisted. “But Felix always took everything harder than me. He wasn’t very social until college.”

“He should have stuck to being an introvert,” I said. “Look at the kind of friends he ended up with.”

“Are you saying Hyunjin is a bad influence?”

“Have you been around for our interactions?

“I’ve definitely noticed, Y/N. Remember what happened that one time when we went camping-”

“Anyways,” I loudly interrupted. “It seems like we both have a lot of things to work on.”

“But that’s why we talk about it,” Chan said, pressing a soothing kiss to the wrinkled crease of my forehead. “That’s what married couples do, right?”

“Ah, Channie, when did you become a walking cliche?”

“Should I be more serious, then?”

“You’re getting there with the doctor’s jacket.”

“Really?” Chan asked, sitting back in his chair. “Is this your way of asking us to try some kind of kinky roleplay?”

“I don’t know, but it might be interesting. Can I call you Dr. Bang?”

Chan was positively beaming. “You can always call me Daddy instead.”

“Darling, I think they accidentally gave you my prescription of morphine.”

If anyone were to ever ask me, then I’d tell them that signing hospital discharge papers was about as difficult as applying for a loan. “How many more are there?” I wondered, scribbling a messy signature at the bottom of the last sheet Jisung had brought for me to sign.

“I think that’s it.”

“You think?” I snorted, watching Jisung sort through each page carefully like he really had no idea what he was holding.

“Each year they add more shit for the patients,” Jisung explained. “I’m pretty sure they do it just to confuse me.”

“Everything confuses you, Jisung,” I said, patting his arm sympathetically. “Has Chan come in yet?”

“He’s on his way with Felix.”

“Goodie,” I grumbled. “Are you working late today?”

“Someone has to help since Chan insists on taking the day off,” Jisung said.

“I hope they aren’t planning on letting you do the surgeries.”

“Would that be such a bad thing?”

I kept my mouth shut, deciding to let Jisung live in his deluded fantasy world where he could somehow manage to cure patients of their ailments as opposed to causing them. Unsurprisingly, since the moment I had first met him, Jisung had always been completely sure of himself even if he was whole-heartedly wrong. For example, when we were all seniors in college, Chan refused to speak to Jisung for an entire week after the two of them received an F on their group project. Apparently, Jisung forgot to submit the lab report on time and waited an additional week before approaching the professor to politely ask if he could still bring it to her after class.

“Channie,” I tried to console him. “You know Jisung didn’t do it on purpose.”

“Yeah, but my GPA will still suffer the consequences,” Chan had sulked, whining about how difficult it was to maintain a friendship with Han Jisung.

Yet, when Chan was first hired by the hospital, Chan sent in a very persuasive reference for Jisung, encouraging the higher-ups to offer him a nursing position. The three of us went out to celebrate Jisung’s new job offer, nursing shots of bad vodka while eating rather terrible sushi. “Chan,” a very tipsy Jisung had said. “I love you so much, man.”

“Oi, keep your hands to yourself,” Chan had grouched despite wearing the biggest grin on his face...

“Y/N,” Jisung interrupted my recollection. “I think Chan just got here.”

“Finally,” I sighed. “I thought I would never be able to get the smell of alcohol out of my nose.”

“Thank God you’re here,” I said the moment Chan and Felix walked into my hospital room. “I’m pretty sure I had to sign my life away to leave this place, but it’s totally worth it.”

Chan rolled his eyes playfully. “I see you’re feeling better this morning.”

“I’ve been better for days,” I said. “But my doctor wouldn’t allow me to so much as breathe the wrong way.”

“Is that so?” Chan asked, reaching down for my discarded bag. “Your doctor sounds like a real asshole.”

“Yeah, but he’s pretty hot. I’d totally fuck him if I wasn’t already married.”

“It sounds like you have a thing for doctors?” Chan asked. “Does this husband of yours know that?”

“He probably does,” I said. “But I feel like he’ll probably leave me to masturbate on my own for months because of this dumb cast.”

“Y/N,” Chan scoffed. “It’s important for you to heal properly.”

I groaned loudly. “Why are you so responsible?”

Chan carefully handed me my bag. “Make sure you have everything. I’m going to talk to your surgeon one more time before we leave.”

It was difficult to prevent myself from protesting, finally realizing just how quiet it was with just me and Felix in the room. “Hi, Felix,” I said, awkwardly adjusting my blankets once Chan had disappeared from sight.

“Y/N,” Felix said, gaze focused on some unidentifiable point on the floor.

“What have you been up to?” I asked, trying to sound cheery because I didn’t like the look of despondence on Felix’s normally bright visage.

“I owe you an apology, Y/N,” Felix said with a vulnerable tone I had never heard from him before. “It’s because of me that you got hurt.”

“Felix,” I hesitated because this was uncharted territory for the both of us, a distant cry from our usual taunting banter. “You don’t need to do that. Everything’s fine now.”

“Your leg,” Felix whispered as an unexpected tear slid down the side of his face.

“It’s just a fracture,” I shrugged. “I’ll be just fine in a few months.”

“Just a fracture,” Felix parroted back, voice thick with emotion. “Why aren’t you mad at me? Because you should be. I’m always getting in your way.”

“Is that what you think?” I asked, surprised to hear Felix’s true feelings. “Felix, you aren’t in anybody’s way. You know I don’t really care that you’re staying with us, especially after you just graduated. I just wish you’d be a little bit more respectful.”

“Because I’ve always been jealous of you, Y/N,” Felix said. “Especially since Chan likes you more than me.”

“Felix, you know that Chan loves you. He would do anything in the world to make you happy.”

“He’s always chosen you over me,” Felix said. “He stopped hanging out with me on weekends in high school, and he even went to the same college as you even though he was accepted into Harvard and Yale.”  

I was shocked by Felix’s true feelings, a rare moment of vulnerability that he was choosing to share with me. “Lixie,” I said. “Why have you never said anything before?”

Felix shivered at my use of his nickname. “I didn’t want to. You guys are so happy together and I didn’t want to hurt Chan.”

“Ya! Felix,” I frowned, “your feelings matter too. And if you really feel that way, then we need to talk about it together.”

“I’m just a burden,” Felix gruffed.

“No, you aren’t,” I insisted. “You’re part of our family, and if you’re ever feeling uncomfortable, then you deserve to be heard.”

“You don’t really mean that do you, Y/N?” Felix asked with glistening eyes. “I don’t want you to say these things just to make me feel better.”

“Felix, when have you ever seen me lying to someone just to protect their feelings?” I asked. “I always speak my mind, and this time I’m putting my foot down. When we get home, we’re having a movie marathon, just the three of us. And this weekend, you and Chan can go somewhere together out of town. I’ll have Minho stay with me instead.”

“Really?” Felix asked, swiping a sleeve under his bright red nose. 

“We’re in-laws you know,” I said. “That means we look out for one another.”

“Y/N,” Felix giggled and, for once, I didn’t feel the slightest bit annoyed. 

“Lee Felix, don’t you ever let me catch you crying like this again, understand?”

Felix nodded, smiling so brilliantly that I was reminded of when we were much younger and he was just an innocent little boy who idolized his older brother.

“Careful,” Chan said, holding the door wide with one hand while keeping a firm grip around my waist. 

“I’m not gonna break,” I grumbled, pausing in the doorway as I let out a grateful sigh. It was a huge relief to be back at home and not stuck in that hospital room surrounded by questionable smells. 

Chan carefully led me into the living room and I gave him my crutches before collapsing on the futon, ignoring the rigid fabric because I had never been happier to hug one of the matching throw pillows. “Comfortable?” Chan asked, helping me prop my leg up on the coffee table. Meanwhile, Felix lingered in the doorway, grasping my bag tightly between his hands.

“Come join us, Felix,” I said. “You’ll let out all the heat.”

Felix nodded, eyes wide as he locked the door behind him. Chan sent me a curious look as if he wasn’t sure what I was hoping to accomplish by inviting his younger brother into the same room. “I have something for you.”

I clapped my hands together eagerly. “Is it something loaded with carbohydrates and fat?”

“Not quite,” he said, handing me my cell phone. “Seo Enterprises called earlier today. I already contacted them about the accident, but I guess they need to hear from you.”

“Great,” I grimaced, dialing the number from memory. It rang for a few moments, and Chan and Felix were both messing around with the TV, probably trying to figure out what to watch. Because the only thing the two brothers argued about was whether action movies were better than romance.

“Seo Enterprises, this is Eliza speaking how can I help you today?”

“Hi,” I immediately cringed, wondering how many cool points I could possibly lose in one day. “This is Y/N, can I speak to Mr. Seo please?”

“I can transfer you right away,” Eliza spoke promptly as if she had already been prepared to receive my call.

“Y/N!” Changbin’s voice now answered. “I’m glad to hear from you.”

“Yeah, I’ve been having a lot of bad luck recently,” I said. “I guess you know about the accident.”

“I heard,” Changbin said. “How are you?”

“I’m alright,” I said. “But I might need some time away from the company. Apparently, a broken leg is a pretty big deal.”

“Take as much time as you need, Y/N,” Changbin said. “I’ve hired a temporary secretary until you’re ready to come back.”

“I don’t know, Changbin,” I said. “It might take several weeks. Maybe you should just hire a replacement.”

“There’s no need for that, Y/N,” Changbin countered. “I still believe you’re the best person for the job.”

“Well, if you’re sure...” I trailed off, shaking my head furiously at Chan when he held up our used copy of The Notebook.

“I’m definitely sure,” Changbin said. “Call me when you want to come back. We still have a lot of things I want to do together in the future.”

“You’re too indecisive,” Chan said, finally taking a well-deserved seat next to me on the futon. 

“And you have terrible taste in cinema,” Felix retorted.

“Yeah? Well maybe we should just let Y/N pick,” Chan suggested, mouthing a sweet kiss against my temple.

“I think Felix should decide,” I said, cuddling up closer to Chan’s side. 

“Really?” Felix asked, appearing entirely surprised that I would allow him such freedom.

“Why not?” I sighed happily. “I’ll even watch that weird anime movie if you want.”

Felix scoffed but a faint smile remained as he grabbed the remote. Chan chuckled and leaned down to press another kiss to the top of my forehead. “I’m proud of you, sweetie,” he whispered.

“It’s only because I love you so much,” I said while shrugging indifferently, but Chan could always read through me.

“Hmm, well I love you more,” he said, brushing his fingers through my hair as the opening credits rolled across the screen.

[m39]

Homestuck 11th anniversary/413 AKA Why I have more tolerance towards the Epilogues

WARNING!

THIS TEXT IS OVER 1.5 THOUSAND OF WORDS LONG!

Enjoy.

EH MAH GERD! E EASTIT MOON BUCKETS!

Wait…

EH MAH GERD!!! E HAMSTEAK BORTH TOOT!!!

And only on this time of year, when we have two holidays, we can talk about the thing that everyone in the Homestuck fandom loves: The Epilogues! :D

Everyone is pointing a gun at you.

OH FUCK!!

You duck behind your desk while everyone else is shooting.

JESUS TAP DANCING CHRIST!!! CALM YOUR ASSES DOWN!!!!!

10 minutes later. You check out of you can stand up.

H-hello?

…

Can I talk now??

…

PERFECT!!

As you can see, today is not only the 11th anniversary of Homestuck but also the 1st anniversary of its Epilogues. Now, imagine one year ago, you were waiting almost 2.5 year for the Epilogues (three years if you don’t count Credits). You wanted to know the answers to many questions such as: Is Lord English defeated once and for all? What happened to that post-Retcon worthless c8nt who lost all of her character development? Is Terezi going to be okay? etc. Sure you got some supplementary stuff like the 1st act of Hiveswap (after like 5 years after its announcement, despite all of its development problems), Friendsim (that visual novel that detailed characters that will appear in later acts of Hiveswap), you read some fanfics like Cool And New Web Comic (personal opinion: very fucking good) and Vast Error (I didn’t read this one but I heard it was good and many people behind it are working with the WhatPumpkin team and on the other official Homestuck shit), there were some official snapchat photos and while those were very good, you knew that they will mean nothing when the Epilogues will drop in. And they finally does, on the Homestuck’s 10th anniversary no less. So you click on The Homestuck Epilogues, happy and excited as fuck and the first thing you see is… an introduction page ripped straight out of AO3.

You earn what can be basically described as a punch in the face where the metaphorical fist is filled with confusion. But it doesn’t end here. Then you notice something more disturbing in content warning and characters:

Rape? Abuse?? Existential Crisis?!? OC?!?! Polyamory?!?!?! GENDER TRANSITION?!??!?!?!?! BARACK! FUCKING!! OBAMA?!?!!?!?!?!?!?!?!!?!?

Like what in the actual fuck is happening?!!

Then you read the Prologue and you are like: Uhm… Okay. It’s not that bad at all, like, far from it. Maybe that AO3 page is just a joke? Everything will be alright right? RIGHT?!?

Then one week later Hussie (with help of some people) drops two nukes on fandom and it all goes to hell. No seriously, it’s like Hussie built Little Boy and Fat Man expies titled Meat and Candy, dropped them on fandom in which the centers of explosions were Dirk’s and Jane’s fandoms respectively and delivered some of the biggest Broken Base effect in Homestuck after like Act 6. Nothing was the same after that. Everybody were fighting each other over who was right, people didn’t even know what was canon anymore and even up to this date people are still misgendering Roxy for fucks sake (it’s not even that hard to remember it: she/her for the Alpha Roxy and her Candy counterpart and he/him for the Meat one; come on man)!

From what I���ve (mostly) seen on Tumblr, most of the Homestuck fans hates it to the bones. Only some individuals actually like them and I happened to be one of those people who likes the Epilogues.

Everyone is pointing a gun at you. Again.

OH COME ON MA-

One hour later.

CAN I FINALLY TALK WITHOUT ENDING UP FUCKING HANGED?!?

…

Bogan: y̵i̸s̷.̵.̶.̶

THANK YOU!

Now, I don’t really care who likes the Epilogues and who doesn’t. Everyone has different opinions. But something tells me that the Epilogues (at least here on Tumblr) are overhated. Like, sometimes, the negativity towards the Epilogues is so big that it makes me feel like I was in Star Wars fandom. And when fandom starts to look like the Star Wars one, you know you are in deep shit.

But you might be thinking by now: Dude, where are going with all of this shit?! Well my dear… uhm… pickles? The point of all of this is that I want to share something with you. And that is the reason. The (main) reason why I (in worst case) have more tolerance towards The Homestuck Epilogues than most of the people (on Tumblr).

When I started writing this long as fuck text I thought that I would easily give more reasons, in other words, give like 3-4 points why I like the Epilogues. But then again it’s better said than done because most of them are connected to this fact:

THE. EPILOGUES. ARE. MOSTLY. NOT. CANON.

This is the reason why I like them, why I can tolerate them. The Epilogues are mostly happening in two new timelines, different from the Alpha one. It’s even stated (or at worst implied) by Jade in Homestuck^2’s 6th chapter that the Meat timeline (and also possibly the Candy one) is not the Alpha one:

The reason why the Epilogues are mostly not canon is that the characters from the Alpha timeline (Terezi, Vriska, Aradia, Sollux, Alt!Calliope etc.) make an appearance in one of the timelines (some of them in both).

Some people who hate the Epilogues stated that it RUINED some of the characters no matter if they liked them or not. That’s kind of… over-the-top because characters that are not from the Alpha timeline are clearly in some cases not the same ones that we know as I see it (at least in case of Neo-Condesce and Doc Strider) as a fuck you towards those fanfics that like to shove Ron the Death Eater and Character Derailment tropes down our throats because some fanfic creators didn’t like some of the characters from the original work.

In other words: Almost all of the characters from the Alpha timeline are the same characters as we know at the very end of Homestuck.

There are still lesser things that I find myself enjoying in the Epilogues:

-          The writing is on a very good level and when it’s pissing someone of it’s not from incompetence,

-          Post-Retcon Vriska actually gets some actual character development instead of ending up as a useless piece of shit that only insults everyone who achieved much more than she ever would (I mean it took (at least) almost 4 years for this to happen but still),

-          The fact that behind Neo-Condesce’s and Doc Strider’s turn to evil is some actual sense, like with the former one it was mind manipulations in her childhood (not to mention the literal mind control by Post-Scratch Meenah) and the latter one (in order to become ultimate) ending up absorbing some of the versions of himself that are basically a massive shitheads (like Bro, Hal, even Caliborn counts),

There are still other pros that either I can’t remember or they are too minor co count.

Does all of this mean that the Epilogues are flawless? PFFFFFF! Of course not. Nothing is perfect. There are some stuff that I don’t like.

The biggest one is that the Epilogues are sometimes overcrowded with so many words detailing every single thing that it actually becomes a slog to get through even one chapter (but then again, this is the reason why I don’t enjoy reading books). Sure, the original comic is like almost thrice as long as the fucking Lord of the Rings in case of the dialogue but it has pictures and animations to be more pleasant for the eyes. Which leads to another con: No. Fucking. Pictures. If I want to look for the details, then at least show me something else than words. Every fucking time I must look at dozens of words describing the most minuscule thing in the novel I’m like:

Also in terms of enjoyment I prefer the Meat Epilogue over the Candy one. When some people say that this book is a big, steaming pile of sadness and depression, at least the Meat part tells you from the start what kind of tone it’s going to have. The Candy part? Not so much. First it’s all happiness, (almost) everyone is happy, birds are happy, clouds are happy, nothing but happiness. And then you get punched in the gut, smashed into the ground and getting kicked over and over and over for so long that when the kicking finally stops it feels like 15 years passed by that time. And just to add up, the pacing in Meat is better than in Candy.

I’m going to piss you off even more but there are moments in the original Homestuck that are more cringe/rage inducing than some of the most painful ones from the Epilogues, particularly the intermissions in Act 6 Act 6 (DON’T GET ME STARTED ON WHAT HAPPENED TO BOTH SERKETS I SWEAR TO FUCKING GOD).

…

…

…

Hey you.

…

Are you still reading this?

…

GOOD! Because you have reached the end of this long ass post that will get one like MAX. You know, like my other long ass posts. LOL AM I RIGHT?!?!

Jokes asides, we had a wild ride since the last 413. The Epilogues (despite what they are) gave us the answers to the biggest questions that Homestuck left for us, we got Pesterquest, the sequel to Friendsim that concluded the history of the MSPAReader (until another sequel -_-) and, of course, we got the official sequel to Homestuck, over 10.5 years later from the original comic’s debut. So, fuck ton of stuff throughout a year for me.

As for the Epilogues, look, I can, in some way, understand that some of you want to stay at least 10 km away from them but it has been a year (well technically almost a year) since they were published on the Homestuck’s official website. It might be a good time to read them once more. Without all of that hype they have built for 2.5 years after the credits. From the different perspective. Maybe even (and I dare to say it) right after yet another re-reading of Homestuck. Either way, remember that in most cases you can give someone or something another chance.

Before I’ll finally end this I must call out some of the more rabid Epilogues haters:

STOP TREATING THE ORIGINAL, ALPHA JANE THE SAME WAY AS A FUCKING NEO-CONDESCE!! THOSE TWO CHARACTERS ARE DIFFERENT CHARACTERS!! SAME WITH ALPHA DIRK AND DOC STRIDER!! MAKE UP YOUR FUCKING MIND!!! STOP ACTING LIKE A BUNCH OF 12 YEAR OLD BRATS!!!

You are on your last breath.

Tha… that’s it! I’m done… wheeze S… See you next time. B-Bye now! Imma… Immabouttopffffffffffffffffffff-

You fall down on your floor after over 1.5 thousand words of talking. Suddenly you feel urge to check Twitter. You see that Homestuck^2 has just received another update. Roundabout starts playing in the background.

What?! And what is thi- PART ONE?!?!?! Oooooooooohhhhhhh ffffuuuuuuUUUUUUUU-

<--- TO BE CONTINUED

[janiedean]

Dude you need to stop. OP hadn't even been aggressive, they just made a random statement on their own blog. It's a personal space. Why do you all have to feel personally offended when 1) it was ONE POST on someone's personal blog, and 2) you're the first whining about how everyone is always offended at nothing! How insensitive. Maybe they were being dramatic, but then what? Show a little compassion, if it bothers you so much just fucking ignore it and move on, jesus. Are you 12?

Also seriously, you're constantly whining about how fed up you are about wank and "Discourse™" in your fandoms, but then you're also continuously participating in said wank by upping it up and up. Ever heard it takes two to tango? Kettle, meet pot?

my dearest darling anon, wow, you really got irked over a post that has..... 50k notes and it’s not such a personal thing anymore at that point. I mean. 50k notes. it’s not just PERSONAL. but however, let’s go over this.

a) it’s my blog. I reblog what I want. If anything, assholes on tumblr who keep disguising their fairly immature rants as *venting* should stop, not me. also, that post has 50k notes and out of the reblogs on the version I reblogged, I didn’t even say the worst thing. did you send this message also to the previous three people in my reblog? :’)

b) one post? that reblog was already two, and if you go on that person’s blog there’s another three reblogs of that same OP with additions which are all OMG STRAIGHT PEOPLE SUCK SO MUCH. lol. venting. with fifty thousand notes. it’s not venting anymore when a post is that viral and they posted it on a public website most likely fully knowing that it would go viral since tumblr dot com is basically ‘straight is an insult but it’s okay to say it because who cares straight people can just take it *SHRUG*’. 

c) HOW INSENSITIVE! MAYBE THEY WERE BEING DRAMATIC! SHOW A LITTLE COMPASSION! okay, you know what?

I’m now going to take OP and reword it with my favorite subject when it comes to show you how this line of thinking is hypocritical af. and at least it’s something I am and I can relate to so y’all can’t accuse me of appropriating someone’s struggles.

good? good!

now let’s imagine this was the op:

Being in a room with religious people talking about religious things is so exhausting.

at that, someone asks me:

What the hell are ‘religious things’?

and I reply:

sunday school and reciting prayers and going to mass and confession talk and discussing about how saudi arabia is actually a very pro-feminist country (spoilers: I heard that irl myself) without being made to feel like you are making people uncomfortable and hearing catholic people talk about how horrible it is for them to talk to atheists and christians in western countries talk about how they are such victims and their lives are shit when what this really means is they are never told that they don’t have morals because of course they believe in a deity and so they are and homophobic and racist crap that drives me crazy like how the only true family is man and woman  and how great religion (ps: this was in the OP so thanks for assuming that all straight assholes in the world are also religious but okay) is and how the world is so lovely and kind and great because people have god watching out for them and he will always be with them and how religious people are like “this person is so lovely” when you know they think you’ll go to hell for being anything other than their religion or listening to religious people say atheists are the worst or talk about people who don’t want to attend religious ceremonies (ie. people who don’t want to go to masses held for dead people) as being weird or rude because WHY WOULDN’T YOU GO, or asking “but have you ever read the bible?” judgmentally as if the moment you read that you suddenly hear jesus speaking to you or getting annoyed at you when you tell them about how not nice it is to be asked all the damned time if you’re gonna kill someone one day just because you’re atheist is because it’s easy for them cause they are religious and wouldn’t know the first thing about it or having to tell people you ‘really don’t practice’ to people all the time cause they just assume you’re catholic and you’ll be getting weird looks if you don’t like, and ‘wait but really??? HOW???’ or “but you look so nice it’d be a pity if you went to hell just because you refuse to believe in god” or “well as long as you keep it for yourself but DON’T TELL YOUR GRANDMOTHER!!!” or having to hear religious people talk about how great christmas is or about the amazing shit they read in church or about how all holy books are ABSOLUTELY NOT WRITTEN BY MEN AND THEREFORE NOT FALLIBLE and about all the amazing movies about jesus or just watching people live super conventional lives and do really sexist old fashioned things just because no one is brave enough to question or think about anything… and worst of all knowing that if you were to say or talk about anything atheist everyone would get uncomfortable and not join in on the conversation and wish you had said nothing… and then people will be like “you hardly said anything”, “you’re so quiet”, “you don’t talk much”, “are you shy”, “you’re boring”.

No bitch I’m atheist and I don’t relate to nor am I really interested in any of the shit that you have been yelling to my face for the last hour.

now, I’ll tell you what would happen: ANY DECENT RELIGIOUS PERSON I FOLLOW WOULD ASK ME WHAT THE FUCK I WAS SMOKING AND IF I REALLY THINK ALL RELIGIOUS PEOPLE ARE LIKE THAT AND ALL RELIGIONS ARE LIKE THAT, AND EVERYONE WOULD ASSUME I WAS A PROPER FUCKING ASSHOLE BECAUSE I JUST GENERALIZED 70% OF THE PLANET IN A LONGWINDED RIDICULOUSLY EMBARRASSING RANT WHERE ON SOME THINGS I MIGHT BE RIGHT AND ON OTHERS I JUST SHOWED A HORRID AMOUNT OF IGNORANCE.

also, since atheists are all assholes, I’d just confirm their ideas that all atheists are assholes who think they’re so much better than anyone else.

does that post look so harmless, put like this? would it look harmless, if the category mocked was anything but straight people? let me tell you: it wouldn’t. not on here, anyway. and now we get to the best part of this frankly ridiculous ask that you of course sent on anon because like hell you’d say that to my face, hm?

Show a little compassion, if it bothers you so much just fucking ignore it and move on, jesus. Are you 12?

no, I’m 29. and OP of that post, who definitely fucking sounds like he’s twelve, because I could have written the above post about how religion sucks when I was in my dawkins phase and I was THIRTEEN and like two years later I already learned to be a little less dramatic, is twenty-seven. out of someone who’s almost thirty, I’d expect some maturity.

but never mind that. the point is: actually, I did it. I ignored a fucking shitload of posts like this since the year of the lord 2013 when they started becoming a thing on tumblr. I ignored posts saying that ‘the only good use straight allies have is getting thrown off a cliff’, I ignored posts about how horrid cishets are, I ignored posts about cishets ‘are like omg they want a cookie for being nice to us that should be the basics’ as if in some places just being pro-lgbt can’t get you fired or put you against your family or get yourself in a hospital, but of course hey, we’re straight, we’re the majority, we inherently oppress anyone who’s not, who cares, amrite? I had to watch this website spiral into a mentality where straight is an insult, basically, and so hey we have a post laughing about straight girls’s tastes, straight girls being into ***ugly boys***, straight girls being brainwashed by the patriarchy because they actually like men when they could be lesbians and be so much better off in tumblr’s amazing pastel unicorns and rainbows lesbian aesthetic where no one feels sexual attraction and everything is platonic and we don’t talk about bills because how fucking boring. I ignored all of that shit for years because y’all were VENTING and you could only do it online so hey what’s the harm in it, and guess what, I’m done. It bothers me so much because it normalizes a mentality where it’s okay to insult people for things they can’t change about themselves rather than aim at, like, HOMOPHOBES. WHO ARE THE ROOT OF THE PROBLEM. but nah, hey, I just have to scroll by the umpteenth post insulting straight people because they talk about things also lgbt people talk about APPARENTLY, because is2g I can assure you that in my fandom group of friends where *I* am camp straight 90% of the time and everyone else is not we actually fucking talk about mortgages and bills and how much renovating a house sucks and how it costs and how it doesn’t and about taxes and about how poor we’re going to be when we retire.

but apparently to OP all this kinda shit is just STRAIGHT TALKING. yeah, lol. anyway, this is kindergarten level attitude and people should have been told to can it years ago, and honestly given that ‘scroll by and ignore’ is an attitude I had for years to avoid conflict and it only caused me trouble, excuse me if I’m done helping feeding a mentality that’s completely fucking useless, because this line of thinking just alienates people. also wow now that I read this post I should feel bad for talking to my non-hetero friends about pretty much anything according to OP? some straight kid younger than me and more impressionable who might actually buy into this website’s bullshit reads this and what will they think? that every time they discuss anything with a gay friend nearby that person is seething inside and hating all of them? could happen. anyway, point is: that post is ridiculous, it has 50k notes and I’m 99% sure most of them actually agree with OP and I wasn’t taught to keep my mouth shut if I hear people saying dumbass things and everyone agrees. that’s not how you do activism. enabling this way of thinking is not helping anyone, least of all OP.

other than that: 

you're constantly whining about how fed up you are about wank and "Discourse™" in your fandoms, but then you're also continuously participating in said wank by upping it up and up

so excuse me, telling people who are actually fucking wrong and spew and enable actually dangerous concepts like idk the fact that people up until eighteen years old have the same decisional capacity as five year olds, that you cannot consent to sex if you aren’t eighteen and one hour old, that you can’t date someone older or younger than you even if you’re both of age because PEDOPHILIA and that consuming problematic fiction is wrong is UPPING THE WANK?

ANON, WHAT THE FUCK. so now if donald trump does ridiculous things and says dumb shit people who disagree should just shut up and let him work and ignore it when the things he does are dangerous? anti thinking is dangerous and keeping your mouth shut and going like ‘they’ll grow out of it’ is not going to work, it’s going to make the situation worse and it’s going to get people hurt.

telling people to FUCKING CAN IT and explaining them a few basic concepts about the difference between fiction and real life is not upping the fucking wank, and calling people out on fucking dumb opinions is not the same as enabling toxic ways of thinking. good lord, if someone irl tells me that interracial marriages are wrong and disgusting what should I do, shrug and let them think I agree or MAYBE EXPLAIN THEM THAT IT’S REALLY RETROGRADE TO THINK SUCH A THING?

I mean, do you need a power point to get the difference?

kettle meet pot like hell. I never started any wank, I never posted one thing purposefully offending an entire category of people just to VENT, none of my posts ever got more than 3k notes - honest I think I had ONE that got that much and it was convention pictures of SPN actors so sure as hell I’m not getting seen by 50k people so OP actually has more leverage than me in this discourse - and assuming I’m actually doing the same thing as OP when everything I’m doing is pointing out that it’s not a healthy way of thinking and that this fucking website is turning into a worse dumpster with every passing moment since at this point the fact that I was born being fine with my sexual characteristic and liking dick is apparently enough to decide that I inherently oppress minorities just by existing and it’s not a line of thinking that activists anywhere should support, is intellectually dishonest and frankly fucking laughable especially coming from someone who doesn’t even put their face to what they ask.

and anyway, OP is a grown ass man and can take care of themselves and of a few disagreeing opinions if he wants to be on a public website where his posts go viral.

and I have absolutely no obligation to keep my mouth shut about things that are imo very fucking dangerous slip-slopes.

there. and now, since I am not going to keep my mouth shut just to make you or OP feel better, you can click the unfollow button if you dislike my opinions that much or you can stick around and learn that sometimes being an adult is a thing that should happen, especially if you frame shit as activism.

anyway, I don’t even know who you are so it’s not like I’ll miss you personally. :’)

[toobadforthefacts]

Louis, Harry, Family and Friends’ Denials of Larry (as a Whole or as a Theory) and Confirmation of Elounor

(@seirral4) [Updated 13/08/2017]

[DISCLAIMER: this post has been recreated due to 1arry-isnt-rea1′s deactivation. Everything has been compiled and written by them, except when stated otherwise: the version retrieved was old, so some debunks went missing, and the situation needed to be mended. Also some links were updated, some denials reorganized, and some lexicon actualized: Larry Shippers --> Larries to avoid confusion. Give credit when you share some else’s contents.]

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Larries seem to think Harry and Louis have not denied Larry. They have, yet Larries still make up excuses for it.

I wanted to make a post showing all family or friends who have denied Larry at some point. This post is not only Larry denials, but confirmations of Elounor or denials of a theory of Larry (i.e. tattoos and such).

I never see people talk about most of these denials.

Guess why?

Like I have always said, Larries only see what they want to. They ignore everything that disproves or doesn’t support their ship.

I can also hear every Larrie scream, “THEY DIDN’T SAY ‘LARRY ISN’T REAL’ THOUGH."

That is a USELESS excuse. They do not need to say those three words to convey the same message. If that is your excuse for everything you will see in this post, you are helpless and clueless. Do not bother reading.

Lastly, if you are a Larrie and consider anyone in this post "irrelevant,” just remind yourself that you believe day old Twitter accounts who claim to have seen Larry with no proof. Everyone in this post has met the boys multiple times, is a good friend of the boys, or are family members. Not random people behind a screen who can easily make up lies.

[Image and video heavy.]

***Quick Note: I will post old screenshots if the reply was hard to find on my iPhone version of Twitter. Sometimes it just shows his or her tweet (which I would specifically search for) but not the original tweet he or she had replied to, then I will also post a screenshot on the current version of Twitter to show it is real. If the current version of Twitter shows both the fan’s tweet and his or her reply, I will only post that.

—————————————————————————————————

Stanley Lucas

Stanley had replied to Louis’ tweet about Eleanor and his anniversary. Shortly after that, Stanley’s started replying to Larries who were spamming and harassing him with tweets talking about how Larry is real and Elounor is fake.

He started by just replying with “weird” to fans. Then he tweeted the following picture:

This tweet has been deleted. If you are doubting whether or not it’s real, go type in his tweet and @ name. There are tons of quoted tweets from that day on that time. It was real.

He then tweeted the following:

He continued to reply to many fans about different things. I’m only showing the ones about Larry or Elounor. In the following screenshot, you will see the fan’s question and his answer.

Next, the screenshot is of the current version of Twitter. You can look up this tweet yourself to verify that it is real.

He continued on and on. Here is yet another.

Once again, here is the screenshot from the current version of twitter.

The Larries really did harass him that day. He continues on. 

Love how he called the theory of Larry “rubbish.” Now here is the screenshot form the current version of Twitter.

Then one fucking idiot said believing in Larry was an opinion, and Stan was wrong even though he has known Louis for years. He replied to her as well.

Now the current screenshot.

One again, he replied to a Larrie. This time it included Harry.

I could not find the tweet to take a current screenshot when I searched for it. I didn’t scroll through his account. I don’t know if it was deleted or not, but it was real. There are many quoted tweets from it on the same day and time.

In the next one, he tells a Larrie how crazy her theory is.

Then he continues to tell Larries that Louis is straight because they are STILL NOT GETTING IT.

Once again, he sets Larries straight on the difference between a fact and an opinion.

—————————————————————————————————

Max Hurd

Max Hurd is one of Eleanor’s best friends. As far as I can tell, she has known him before she met Louis or around the same time.

On September 9, 2012, a Larrie harassed him by calling Eleanor a beard. He had the following conversation with them.

If you don’t believe this happened, feel free to search up the tweets. They are still there and ver underrated. Almost no one even noticed this conversation.

Next one. On February 27, 2014, Max again replied to a Larrie who assumed Eleanor was his girlfriend. Apparently, if you are a girl and a boy, you can’t be friends without people thinking you’re fucking. He replied with this:

Again, this got barely any attention. I wonder why. Once again, feel free to search up the tweets. They are still there.

Now let’s move on to Max’s Instagram comments. I will first post a screenshot of the picture the comments are located on, so those who want to look them up themselves can. Then I will post a screenshot of the comment he replied to and his reply.

Yes, this is his real Instagram. He has had it forever, and he is constantly uploading new pictures.

These screenshots confirm Elounor more than deny Larry, but just wait, those are coming up.

I like how he added the, “Deluded, weird, blocked,” at the end there.

These are really funny to me because the whole Gretchen and Tina thing is beyond hilarious.

Anyways, again, he does not have to say “Larry isn’t real” to tell you the same thing. Also, he only confirms Elounor once again. How many times has he done that so far?

“I am not going to answer any of your larry bullshit because I actually cannot get my head around how screwed up and cruel you are to accuse my friend of being hired to be someone’s girlfriend.”

“You need to open your eyes and stop seeing what you want to see and realize what is actually there. Which is a long term relationship between two people who love each other."

”…so piece together some weird fantasy for yourself"

Larries, look up the word fantasy if you don’t understand how this is a denial.

Next.

All of these started because Larries continued to harass Max about “Gretchen” and “Tina” even though he has already addressed it.

Max comments “Y'all need Jesus,” so a Larry Shipper comments, “Max needs to get dick out his ass and be more mature and Jesus isn’t real so no one needs him.”

Max then replies with, “Neither is 'Larry’ so you need to find a different obsession to waste your life on.”

DID YOU READ THAT, LARRiES? He just told you Larry isn’t real without using those words. Stop using your bullshit excuse of needing those three words in the same order.

Last one, finally.

Before anyone loses their shit, he did mentioned the girl again and apologized for the “Die in a hole you fucking peasant” part.

Anyways, he again does not say the exact words, “Larry isn’t real” but I think, “something that is as real as the tooth fairy” is descriptive enough for Larries to get the point.

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Sasha Malik

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Julian Bunetta

Julian is one of the boys’ songwriters and producers.

No, he does NOT work for Modest. He would work under the label.

Yes, this is his twitter.

No, he is not verified, but the boys have mentioned him in tweets before.

In the first screenshot, a fan is annoying Julian with questions as to whether Larry is real or not. He replied:

This is a perfect example of something I said at the beginning of the post.

No, he did not say “Larry isn’t real”, however he said it in a different way. You guys do realize what the word “imaginary” means, correct?

Also, if Larry was real, he would not have responded. He has no obligation to reply to fans on Twitter. He gets tons of questions, especially when he begins answering many fans at once. He did NOT have to answer, but he choose to. I wonder why.

This tweet is still there, you can look it up if you would like.

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Simon Jones of Hackford Jones PR

I could not find exactly what Simon’s job title is. He definitely works at HJPR, he might even own it since his last name is in the company’s name. Regardless, his role at the company is a very important one. On July 19, 2014 he tweeted this:

I wanted to verify the fact that this company represents One Direction. The screenshot below is from their website. I highlighted the part that says they do in fact represent the boys.

No, this is not a denial of Elounor or Larry, but it is a denial that the company has even purposely fabricated a relationship. That would include Elounor, Zerrie, Sophiam, Haylor, and so on.

Also, I found this on their website. It’s a testimonial from Modest Management.

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Fizzy’s Best Friend, Tasha

This happened only a few days ago, feel free to look it up. It is real.

Before you start questioning if this account is real, it is. Her Ask in linked to her Instagram, which Fizzy follows.

If you are a Larrie, before you lose your shit, she later said she knew Larry didn’t actually destroy their friendship. However, it still did affect it.

I don’t want to hear how Fizzy’s best friend wouldn’t know anything. My best friend knows everything about my life. When I am talking about shit that pisses me off, she is there to listen. I’m sure it is the same way with Fizzy.

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Gemma Styles

No, this is not a direct denial. However, I do think it is telling of what Gemma thinks of Larry. Remember, she did not need to reply to this. She has fans tweeting her tons of things, and she is not obligated to reply to any of it. She choose to reply to this, and it was probably to deny the ridiculous rumor that she was “hinting” Larry was real. Notice how all their proof is assumptions that they believe are hints?

[Added Aug 2017]

But Larries can’t have nice things, so it was a matter of time really for Gemma to end up denying Larry. It was on Tumblr after she received this ask:

It’s been since then deleted, but that doesn’t take her words back. People that believe in Larry are a WASTE.

The next one is not a proper Larry denial, but more like the first example. Around week after Freddie Tomlinson was born Gemma liked this on IG:

Larries immediately took it as a sign, claimed she was shading “babygate,” and that it meant the denial of Freddie being Louis’ son was coming SOON (yeah, they always say that.) Of course nothing happened, and asked to clarify Gemma said this:

The mentality that implies that everything is connected to the thing that matters to them is actually a trait of conspiracy theorists’ mentality. Anyway, as we all know, “babygate” didn’t “end”, thus this became another sort of Larry denial, and proof that the family of the boys are pretty aware of how Larries work. She got to hear a couple of more complaints about it.

More recently, in 2016, Gemma posted a picture of a graffiti on IG:

Even if in the graffiti both human forms have blue eyes, some Larries jumped in, claiming that it proved Larry. Again, everything is about them and Larry, even if it’s Gemma’s IG and she has, like, HER OWN LIFE.

Yes. See the green and blue hearts so characteristic of the larriedom, and Gemma’s reaction. Sadly, instead of backing off at her reply that the post had nothing to do with Larry, they went after her and called her ableist, just because she dared to deny Larry. One moment they love you, the next one they hate you.

There’s no winning with these people. All we can do is wonder when the next denial will come.

—————————————————————————————————

Keith Tomlinson

Before you begin questioning if his account is real, it is. No, Louis does not follow him. However, other family members do, and he has posted never before seen pictures of Louis and himself.

I really don’t give a shit if you don’t consider him as Louis’ real grandfather anymore just because he was only his grandfather by marriage. Louis grew up with him. You don’t need to be related by blood to consider someone as family, that’s just fucking stupid.

Louis visits him often. He denies Larry. Get the fuck over it. Stop making excuses for it.

Remember, this post is of denials of Larry and confirmations of Elounor. Keith confirmed Eleanor with the very obvious, “Goodnight disbelievers” to all the Larries out there.

Go ahead, search it up to verify it’s real if you need to.

This next one is not a denial of Larry or a confirmation of Elounor, however, I thought I would add it in here to show the frustration with Larries.

Keith has absolutely no chill with Larries. (Personally, I think it was not necessary, but I think it’s just really frustrating to family and friend of especially Louis.)

Again, search it up on Twitter to verify it is real.

Keith literally has zero chill.

[Added: Feb, 2017.]

Keith passed away early 2016. He had a last quarrel with a Larrie who was spamming a tweet of Harry about a terrorist attack with “Larry is real:”

Keith wasn’t here for the disrespect and lack of boundaries. And neither should you.

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Lottie Tomlinson

It isn’t even funny anymore. I honestly don’t know why some Larries continue to harass Lottie.

There was so much drama in the fandom when this happened, oh my gosh. Eleanor also commented, but we are just focusing on Lottie.

Yes, I know this is not a direct denial of Larry. however, like I said before, they do not need to say, “Larry isn’t real” to portray the same message.

I think “SHUT UP YOU DELUDED F R E A K S” and “Sit down and shut up because you people do not know A THING” will suffice. Next.

This screenshot is from when Lottie accidentally favorited a gif of Harry and Louis with the caption, “boyfriends”.

Of course, all the Larries lost their shit and seemed to have completely forgotten about the time she called them deluded freaks.

Lottie quickly un-favorited it and tweeted that. She deleted the tweet minutes after she posted it. You can search up the tweet and see a bunch of quoted tweets on the same day and time to verify it was real.

No, this isn’t a denial. However, she did tell Larries to go away and she admitted it was a mistake.

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Fizzy Tomlinson

The first one I have is from when Fizzy did a Twitcam with her friend.

Fizzy did a twitcam in June of 2012. During it, she talks about Louis’ sexuality.

She says, “I don’t say it’s a bad thing to be gay. It’s just kind of rude to me because I know he’s not gay, and you’re all just like ‘No, your brother’s gay.’ Like, no he isn’t. Shut up.”

She then reads a comment that says, “Louis is clearly gay,” to which she replies, “He has a girlfriend!” (It is cut off).

You can watch it HERE.

Yes, I know. She only said he isn’t gay, and I can hear Larries say, “He doesn’t have to be gay for Larry to be real.” You are right.

However, Fizzy did confirm his relationship with Eleanor. I do know one can have a girlfriend, yet still be interested in men too. However, one cannot be in a relationship with his best friend and girlfriend at the same time.

Next.

I went through Fizzy’s Ask.FM. I did not scroll all the way to her very first answer because I found plenty before than. There are tons, and some of them (about Eleanor specifically) I did not add because it was not directly about Elounor or Larry.

Keep in mind. Fizzy gets tons of questions all the time. It’s her choice on which ones she wants to reply to. She clearly wanted to reply to this for a reason.

Let’s begin the long list of answers. They are not exactly in order.

The link was to the clip where Harry grabs Louis and kisses him on the cheek during an interview. Fizzy replied with, “Do you think if he was being serious he would do that in the middle of an interview?”

“Larry isn’t real but ship what you want,” THERE YOU GO LARRIES. THERE ARE THE THREE WORDS YOU ACTUALLY DON’T WANT TO HEAR.

This is something I always say when family members or friends deny Larry. It is ridiculous to say they are lying when they would just avoid answering at all.

“He doesn’t hate you, just your ship.”

“No, it isn’t.”

“Yes, Elounor is true love, and Larry is fake,” There you go, once again.

“You just see what you want to see,” HOW MANY TIMES HAVE I SAID THIS? YOU GO, FIZZY!

“If Larry was real, I would ship it but it’s not so I don’t haha"

Well, that was simple. 

Simple answer.

There is most likely even more than just these. I only search back a little over a year and a half.

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Niall and Josh

During a Twitcam from over two years ago, Josh was reading comments on the Twitcam he was doing will Niall.

One comment talked about Zayn and Liam’s ship name, which is Ziam. Josh then realized what Larry was. Niall says, "Alright yeah,” with a very dead pan face. They then begin talking about something else. Niall reads a comment that asks if Larry is real. As soon as he reads the comment out loud, he shakes his head and flips his hand as if to show he is annoyed. Josh then says, “I’m pretty sure Larry isn’t real, guys,” while Niall laughs.

I find this funny. This was only a few months after the first bullshit tweets. Niall is clearly like, “Do they not get it…?"

Josh did not even know what "Larry Stylinson” was. Wow! It must be soOOooOOO real.

If you read the comment sections, it is full of Larries who say Niall could have flat out said no, but he didn’t. Honestly, his reaction was telling enough, but I understand where they are coming from.

The whole, “If Larry isn’t read, why haven’t they denied it,” thing, is a different story for a different post I have in the works.

Whether you think Niall’s reaction was a denial or not, Josh denies it too.

You can watch it yourself HERE.—————————————————————————————————

Liam

I LIVE for Liam’s denials of Larry. Let’s begin.

The following picture is an old screenshot. In the current screenshot, it won’t show the tweet Liam replied to. I posted both so you could see what he replied to and see that the tweet is still there. You can still search for the tweet and find it.

The next picture is the current screenshot.

Next.

No, he didn’t deny Larry as a whole, but I don’t want to miss anything. So many people don’t even know most of these things in this post happened.

Next.

Yes, I know screenshots of DMs from either Instagram or Twitter can be faked. I almost never trust any DMs because they are faked quite often.

However, this one was real. The girl who Liam messaged back took a video of his DM and posted it on her Instagram. Her Instagram is now private, but I found someone else who took her video and posted it in their account.

If you are going to say videos like hers can be faked, please show me your receipts. I have NEVER found any. I have had many Larries act like know-it-all-shits and then go ghost when I ask for proof.

The DM is real. Next.

Once again, I would not trust this DM unless the girl had a video, which she did.

The link to the proof that the DM was real is HERE. 

Let me explain what happened with this DM because many people were confused. This girl (@rtsophiam) was followed by Liam and Sophia. She had messaged Liam, asking if Larry was real or not. He unfollowed her. He then, being the kind hearted boy he is, re-followed her and messaged her that.

You can go check. She still has her Liam follow and she had it before the DM incident occurred.

Now, I know Larries were only say it was Modest. That will be their excuse for these DMs. Let me remind you of Liam’s tweets the same night this happened.

His tweets sound exactly like Liam. Go look up all of his tweets from October 2, 2014.

Also, notice his tweets about crazy DMs that are either fun, shocking, or strange? Hm. I wonder what DM he is referring to.

Lastly, during an interview, when asked to explain what Larry is, Liam said, “He’s imaginary.”

Again, do I need to write the definition of imaginary for you, Larries?

[Added: Feb, 2017.]

On his solo interview for Attitude Magazine (Sept 2015,) Liam had some words for the Larries, concerning Larry and Louis’ impending parenthood:

“People think of the Louis and Harry thing [that they’re secret lovers,] which is nuts and drives me insane.” The idea of Larry is, according to Liam, “nuts.” But he goes forward and call the Larries a “conspiracy” and a “cult,” telling that people make every gesture [of Louis and Harry] about them being together, and he knows “it’s not true” and it makes him “mad.” He knows “what’s what” [he understands the inner jokes and gestures] but has to hear “all these crazy theories.” 

“I get tagged in drawings of Louis and Harry being together.” The 4th wall is broken. Well done, Larries. This is not fandom; this is not support. This is, as Liam says in his comparison, a conspiracy theory: “Imagine you’re the man who lands on the moon and you come back home to hear some people saying you didn’t.” Put yourself in these people’s shoes for once and imagine how it would be having people denying part or the whole of your existence. Liam stated Larry is not real and compared you, Larries, with conspiracists and cult people. He also stated that Louis was happy to become a dad, as he’s been for over a year now. When will you get the cue that your invasiveness is not welcomed?

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[Added: Feb, 2017.]

Zayn

In the interview he gave to the Fader in 2015, Zayn had the chance to talk about some of his experiences in One Direction. The conversation quickly moved to the fans’ culture.

Talking about shipping culture and fan theories Zayn stated:

“There’s no secret relationships going on with any of the band members.” This is a direct quote from Zayn, that established that Larry (or any of the other ships, even those not majorly tinhatted, like his own ship with Liam) is not real. But he goes further and says the fan theories had an effect in the way the boys behave in public: “It’s not funny, and it still continues to be quite hard for them. They won’t naturally go put their arm around each other because they’re conscious of this thing that’s going on, which is not even true. They won’t do that natural behavior.” It’s not the gay rumors that affected Larry’s public bond, but the constant harassment and invasiveness, the fact that there are tons of denials and people still spams every single post of the boys (and friends and family) with Larry’s claims. It’s the same Liam said for Attitude, it’s the constant watching and interpretation that exhausted them; in Zayn’s own words: “knowing that everything you do will be parsed for subtext is a terrible mindfuck.” Congratulation, Larries, you played yourselves and ruined Larry for the world.

—————————————————————————————————

Louis 

[Reorganized Aug 2017]

16/09/2012: Bullshit 1.0

Louis calls Larry’s theories conspiracies, and implies that the people involved in it aren’t lovely. He also addresses how those people give the fandom a bad name, thing that’s been proven to be a massive issue intra fandom and with media and GP’s perception of it and fannish behavior. He also refers to Larry as the “biggest load of bullshit.” The impact and following tantrum was so big that, to be able to cope Larries called the episode “bullshit 1.0,” because even if it should have ended that very day, they carried on, leaving room for even more denials left and right, and “bullshit 2.0.” 

As I said, Larries got so defensive they ended up attacking Jay because, as always, she dared to speak up for her son and his girlfriend. Louis had to return and address the harassment again. His mother, people.

The issue ended that day with Louis making clear that HE DOESN’T CONSIDER LARRIES REAL FANS, and that any claim about anyone else but himself tweeting was inaccurate (sounds like he knew already the kind of theories he was dealing with):

Sept 2012: Chatty Man’s denial is reported in this article. The words quoted directly from Louis are consistent with everything Louis’ said on the matter to this day, that Larry makes things difficult for Harry and him, and that it’s disrespectful to his girlfriend.

“I just think it's really degrading towards her,” he explained, mentioning Eleanor again. What's most fascinating is that he admitted that he'd known about the pairing for a while, but that after a while it became more taxing than fun: “This is a subject that was funny at first but now is actually hard to deal with, as I am in relationship. Me and Harry are best friends. People look into our every move—it is actually affecting the way me and Harry are in public.”

Oct 2012: Louis calls Larry Stylinson “a conspiracy of fanfiction.” When Unreality TV asked about Larry rumors, Louis said:

There’s also a recorded interview with thehothits.com around the same period of time of Louis talking about the matter HERE. I leave you a transcription:

“I’m sure if you follow me on Twitter, you’ll know that every now and again I’m quite outspoken. I think it’s important to speak your mind, and I’ve had a few rants recently. You know, people who have been horrible to my girlfriend Eleanor and to my mum, and I just don’t think people should be able to get away with it. I don’t go to bed and worry about it, I just think that people if they want to be like that, should be put in their place.”

We know you’ve been working on it, sweetie, but these people are so self-absorbed and selfish they don’t listen to anyone but themselves.

Nov 2013: Louis called Larry “a fucking annoyance.” Talking about fan theories and conspiracy theories, Zayn and Louis went off:

Looks like someone was pretty tired. You can read the whole interview HERE.

Do I really need to look up the words conspiracy and fiction for Laries to get the point? 

21/07/2017: Louis denies Larry in an interview with The Sun. You can watch the video HERE (starts at 00:31.)

After relating the phenomenon to conspiracy theories, Louis states that “obviously there’s there’s not truth to it” [Larry’s conspiracy theory] glancing directly into the camera (like Larries always dreamed about) around 01:05. If there’re still doubts about it, or you don’t want to watch it, here are the gifs made by @slowhandsmp3:

And again a transcription:

Dan Wootton: Can you tell me what your view is on these people who are obsessed by a “Larry” conspiracy?

LOUIS: I’ve never actually been asked about it directly. It’s a funny thing. People can believe what they want to believe. It comes across as a little bit disrespectful to the ones that I love, like Eleanor. It’s like anything, if you google a conspiracy on iPhones, you’re gonna get a conspiracy. It’s one of those things people love to buy into, but in reality, obviously there’s no truth to it, obviously.

The same day The Sun published an exclusive interview where Louis went deeper in the issue:

“Louis and Harry’s friendship was also dogged by a ridiculous five-year conspiracy by a group of determined fans known as Larries.

They believe that the pair are in a romantic relationship that was covered up by 1D management, SIMON COWELL and even me (I promise you I’d have been delighted to report that Harry and Louis were an item if that were the case).

Sadly, Louis admits the pressure from Larry conspiracy theorists was a factor in their friendship struggling, especially given the serious relationship he has with girlfriend Eleanor Calder.He says: “I’ve never actually been asked about it directly. It’s a funny thing.“

"It kind of happened naturally for me and Harry because a certain amount of the fans drew up this conspiracy.

"When it first came around I was with Eleanor, and it actually felt a little bit disrespectful to Eleanor, who is my girlfriend now.

“I’m so protective over things like that, about the people I love. So it created this atmosphere between the two of us where everyone was looking into everything we did.

“It took away the vibe you get off anyone. It made everything, I think on both fences, a little bit more unapproachable. I think it shows that it was never anything real, if I can use that word.”

Louis again refers to Larry’s fan theories as conspiracy theories, and blames the fans involved in these behaviors (again called disrespectful) for the public, notorious separation that happened between him and Harry. This is consistent with the things expressed by Louis throughout the years, and also Zayn, for instance, who claimed fans made impossible for Harry and Louis to be spontaneous and physical with each other while in public. So congratulations, Larries, yet another confirmation that you killed what you loved the most.

31/07/2017: Louis’ denial of Larry Stylinson in an interview with Andy Cohen. As the media picked up The Sun exclusive, Louis was asked again about it, now in USA soil. No more excuses, Larries. Louis want to shut down these theories once and for all.

You can listen to the actual audio with words coming out of Louis’ mouth HERE.

Transcription HERE, but here’s a caption:

Not fans. Not anything, but “these people.” That’s how Louis refers to the people that come up with conspiracies about him. It’s over, people. You are not Louis’ fans if you deny his real relationship and his son. He warned you in 2012. Nothing really new to it. Just more denial coming up from the Larries. As Harry would say, SAD.

—————————————————————————————————

Harry

[Reorganized Aug 2017]

During an interview for 60 minutes Australia, the interviewer tells Harry, “Look, Harry. I’ve got to ask you about this one. This is Famous magazine. This says you and Louis are a couple. There’s pictures of you kissing!”

Liam, Niall, and Harry begin explaining that the pictures are photoshopped and that it has happened to all of the boys.

She then asks Harry, “Oh, really? So you and Louis, there is nothing going on?”

Harry replies with a simple, “NO.“ Yes, Larries, hold on. I’ve heard all of your excuses, and I will address them. But first see it for yourselves, I swear it doesn’t bite:

Before you say, "Harry had to lean into to make sure they didn’t have actual pictures of them kissing,” let’s talk about the interview where they asked if Harry was having an affair with Obama.

Looks pretty similar to his reaction in the Australian interview, doesn’t it? So, is Harry fucking Obama too? Of course not. If you go up to anyone, claiming to have pictures of them kissing their best friend, they are going to look. It’s just a natural reaction. Keep making excuses.

Also related to this same interview, Larries spread the lie that there is a picture of Harry crying from right after this interview.

NO, THERE IS NOT.

The picture Larries spread around claiming to be of Harry crying are from a completely different interview where he has been sick for a few days. The exact same shot is at 9:13, and it is actually of Harry and Niall laughing. It is not a picture of Niall comforting Harry because he was crying. You can check it for yourselves HERE.

See how deceiving pictures (and Larries) can be?

Let’s move on. Larries don’t acknowledge this denial, and they thought they were lucky enough not to go through the same again due to Harry’s reluctance to talk about his personal life. It was a gift that kept giving until it stopped. It happened again. 

In April 2016, a Venezuelan fan asked Harry is Larry was real while facetiming and he said “NO.” It was referred through Twitter by user @kingcasique_ and reported by media in at least this video:

Sadly, these tweets happened between Victoria, the girl that chatted with Harry, and her friend [I can’t provide a link because the girl has been suspended on Twitter]:

These types of implications are NOT acceptable. NO means NO.

Troubles continued for Larries, because life’s a b*tch for them, since during the promo of his solo career (May/June of 2017,) in which Harry remarked again and again how honest his album was, he was asked if his solo song “Sweet Creature” was about Louis.

So Harry denied Larry again, stating that he would “lean toward NO” in the subject of the song being about Louis. Listen to his reply (starting to speak quite upset) at 00:10:

Teen Vogue picked it up and you can read the article HERE. But here’s a transcription of the statement for everyone to acknowledge it.

“Lean toward NO” is as much as a categorical statement as a single NO. The word NO is right there. And you respect the word NO, because NO means NO.

Asked about the fan theory a second time in USA Today, Harry said “Oh, is that a thing?," completely snubbing the rumors. And went further: “Well, whatever it is that it makes one feel. But I think if you listen to the lyrics, you can work out what it’s about.” Oh, Harry, you unlucky bastard. You have a tendency to catch hay fever and Larries.

—————————————————————————————————

Louis and Harry

[Added Feb 2017]

HERE is one of the first interviews in which Louis and Harry casually dismiss the rumors about Larry being a romance (the one of the “genuinely believe.”) There’s a politeness, a clear intention not to create drama with the denial, because at the time rumors were just starting to get fueled, but they still weren’t a proper conspiracy theory, as Louis would refer later when talking about Larry. It wasn’t the only time the issue was addressed in a relaxed manner, trying to shut down rumors, but with an intention not to alienate the fans. And here’s another:

This is what the YouTube poster of the video wrote as a caption:

“I ship Larry, honest I think they are so cute and I would love them to be together... but if they say that its not true, that it is annoying them, going too far or that they are happy with their girlfriends then as fans we should respect that and let them live their lives. If they aren't gay then it will upset them and their girlfriends, and if they are then its obvious that they can't or don't want to talk about it so really either way shoving your opinions in their faces and their family and friends faces doesn't help. I'm not saying you don't have a right to think that or have an opinion, but sometimes you might want to think about who its affecting and respect what they are telling you, whether you believe it or not.”

Enough said.

—————————————————————————————————

Alright. I think I have gotten most of the ones I could find.

I figured I would actually discuss them more in depth since I can kind of predict what Larries will say about it.

First of, yes I do realize people can lie. However, people do not go so far to call Larries vile, deluded freaks, fake fans, disbelievers, deranged, stupid, a lost cause, bitter, lonely, and fucking peasants. They would also not go so far to call the theory of Larry strange, ludicrous, bullshit, weird, as real as the tooth fairy, a fantasy, imaginary, fan fiction, rubbish, and a wasted obsession. (I personally do not believe everything said about Larries was necessarily appropriate, but it happened.)

Like I have said before, if they didn’t want to out Larry, there was no reason to lie. It can simple be avoided.

Second of all, if you believe their family and friends are under contract, go ahead and read these posts: 

Larries’ Contract Theories I

Larries’ Contract Theories II

It is not only about Harry and Louis, but that Act protects their loved ones as well.

Also, like I said before, these are all people who have known Harry and Louis all their lives or are very good friends or are people they work with. These are not random people who claim to have met Louis and claim to have been told that he hates Larry or that Elounor is real.

I find it really doubtful that these people would not know the truth, and I think if you are telling yourself that, you need to really think about that.

[Added Aug 2017]

After reading all this, there’s no denial that the only constant in the seven-year-long 1D history has been these people denying the existence of a romantic relationship between Louis and Harry. And I’d dare to say that the only constant in the 1D fandom has been the abuse and harassment they have subjected these persons to because of it.

WORDS MATTER. RESPECT THESE PEOPLE’S WORDS. RESPECT THEIR TRUTH. STOP THE DISRESPECT AND THE ENTITLEMENT.

[veganvenom]

Tagged by @spacestationtrustfund

Rules: answer these 85 statements & tag 20 people

the last:

1. drink: Tea. Always tea, although I was sensible tonight and made it decaf because I’m about to go to bed.

2. phone call: To my landlord, trying to sort out my water being shut off. It’s fixed now.

3. text message: If we’re counting by messenging apps in general then the last person I texted was my qpp Ollie about their art. If by sms specifically, then my husband telling him how cute he is.

4. song: Ying Li by Voodoo Kungfu.

5. time you cried: About a week ago, because I was having a bad day and was worried I’d messed up my relationships by being me.

have you ever:

6. dated someone twice: Yes. My asshole ex, who kept guilting me back. Don’t do it - if you broke up once already you are probably not going to work together.

7. kissed someone and regretted it: Only asshole ex actually. Everyone else I’m happy I kissed.

8. been cheated on: Did I mention my ex was an asshole yet?

9. lost someone special: Yes.

10. been depressed: On this stretch it’s been about a year so far.

11. gotten drunk and thrown up: Many many times. Less often now I’m older - my body generally gets tired too quickly to get that drunk any more.

favorite colors:

12. Purple. Specifically a darkish, bluish kind of purple.

13. Green. Forest green I guess?

14. Black I suppose, which is most of my clothes.

15. Red, for its revolutionary significance.

16. Blue because I’m running out of colours that I don’t dislike.

in the last year have you:

17. laughed until you cried: Yes. I have very funny friends, and both my partners love a good (terrible!) pun.

18. found out someone was talking about you: Yes. Generally it’s been good.

19. met someone who changed you: Lots of wonderful friends! And especially one person <3

20. found out who your friends are: Yeah definitely. Though I don’t blame those who haven’t kept in touch now that I’m less fun and don’t have the spoons to chat much/often.

21. kissed someone on your facebook list: 5 or so I think.

22. made friends: So many lovely friends, probably including you if you’re reading this!

23. fallen out of love: Not this year thankfully, but I have done the opposite :)

general:

25. what did you do for your last birthday: Well that’s not so happy! I woke up to multiple tumblr hate messages from fashy blogs (not because it was my birthday - they just happened to coincide). Cried quite a bit because I didn’t understand why I was so upset (yes this is ridiculously circular!). Then had a handful of friends over for about two hours in the evening for a couple of quiet beers, but I was too sad to be social.

26. how many of your facebook friends do you know in real life: All of them, maybe apart from one or two who I’ve added because we share multiple common interests.

27. do you have any pets: No, but I’d like to be able to adopt animals when I have more space.

28. what time did you wake up: This morning, it was about 7:45 I think. Though I was still too physically tired to get up until about midday.

29. what were you doing at midnight last night: Sleeping! My meds have been good for helping me do that early most nights.

30. name something you can’t wait for: Being healthy enough that I can go back to and be enthused by my research.

31: what are you listening to right now: Ocean Land by Orphaned Land

32: have you ever talked to a person named tom: That is a very common name here, so of course.

33: something that’s getting on your nerves: Liberals saying that punching n*zis makes you just as bad as them.

34. do you want to change your name: In practice I changed it about 3 years ago, but I do intend to do it legally in the next year or so. The bureaucracy would be too much effort right now.

35. hair color: Purple, but faded so that it has bluish and greyish streaks.

36. long or short hair: Short hair definitely. Once I’ve been on T for a while I might consider growing it long again, but not before. I love it short.

37. piercings: Three in my upper ear.

38. tattoos: Not yet. I have a wishlist but negative money and social anxiety.

39. blood type: The most useless one.

40. nicknames: Don’t think I’ve had any in a while.

41. relationship status: Married to my cute nerdy husband and in a queerplatonic relationship with my cute nerdy best friend.

42. zodiac: I can’t remember.

43. pronouns: They/them. I’m so lucky to have surrounded myself mostly with friends who at least try to use these.

44. most visited website: Tumblr! Which is better than last year when it was either Facebook or The Guardian which both made me angry on a regular basis.

45. right or left handed: Right-handed.

46. surgeries: Only a couple of minor ones, both on my face though they didn’t manage to make it look good lol

47. sports: Kickboxing, though I’m no good at it.

48. favorite tv show: Black Sails. For goodness’ sake, watch it if you haven’t!

49. vacations: The week in the Highlands I spent with my husband.

50. sneakers: I do have a pair of trainers yes. They are cheap and vegan.

more general:

52. eating: Luckily I’m ok with food atm. Don’t have many stipulations other than it should be vegan and affordable. Hot helps too.

53. fave drink: Tea, duh.

54. what you’re up to: Trying to rest.

55. waiting for: My brain to get well enough to work again.

56. want: Motivation, energy, an international anarcho-socialist post-scarcity world

57. get married: Eloped and got married in a forest by an officiant who didn’t misgender me. Loved it.

58. career: No longer in academia, that’s for sure.

which is better:

60. hugs or kisses: I love hugs. I like kisses from my partners, but bises freak me the hell out I’m too working class British for that kind of thing!

61. lips or eyes: Eyes.

62. shorter or taller: I guess I would like to be a tiny bit taller, but I’m about average height for a human adult and that’s fine with me.

63. older or younger: I guess I was happier a year ago, but I wouldn’t give up the friends I have now, so I like this age.

64. nice arms or stomach: I don’t really know how to answer this. I guess equal?

65. hook up or relationship: Relationships.

66. troublemaker or hesitant: Hesitant, but I do so want to cause trouble.

have you ever:

67. kissed a stranger: I don’t think I have actually.

68. drank hard liquor: Too much.

69. lost glasses/contacts: I lose my glasses often, but have always found them.

70. turned someone down: Echoing Mochi with the having met straight men before...

71. sex on the first date: Yes, but I prefer sex and then deciding to date while in bed afterwards.

72. broken someone’s heart: Yes, but I’m not sorry.

73. had your heart broken: Yes, but it’s stronger now for it.

74. been arrested: Actually no, not yet! Cautions only. This just tells me I’m not doing enough tbh.

75. cried when someone died: Yes.

76. fallen for a friend: SO many times. And apart from the straight ones they’ve been good choices.

do you believe in:

77. yourself: Not generally. I do the best I’m capable of and if I fuck it up that’s about what I expected, and if I don’t then that’s great.

78. miracles: No.

79. love at first sight: No. That’s not what love is.

80. santa claus: No, and I don’t have memories from when I was young enough to have believed.

81. kiss on the first date: Yeah. Though none of my relationships have ever really followed the ask-on-date, go-on-date, go-on-second-date, etc. model.

82. angels: No.

other:

83. current best friend’s name(s): Ollie

84. eye color: Green.

85. favorite movie: The Legend of Fong Sai Yuk.

Tagging @eldritchsqurriel, @buildarocketboys, @amiedelabaisse, @wanttodrawmothsfrommemory, @synchronysymphony, @prettypettypansexual, @scouse-jesus-vikingson, @everyoneinspaceisgay, @thequeerkingdom, @acemummerz, @c3rn, @attercop-attercop, @do-a-saving-roll, @iamamathmagician, @willowveild, @jackaalope, @blooming-rivers, @luthienlight, @deprofundisresurgam, @jehnt. Feel free to ignore your tag - it was hard to get to 20.

[lila-cherryblossomtree]

Tagged by @burritalks, thanks I really wanted to do this!

Rules: Answer these 92 statements and tag people

THE LAST:

1. Drink: Water

2. Phone call: My mom

3. Text message: I think my sister

4. Song you listened to: Thousand Foot Krutch - Push

5. Time you cried: I have no idea, I cry from stress all the time... Maybe when I had a panic attack 2 weeks ago??

HAVE YOU:

6. Dated someone twice: I haven’t dated someone once, not even twice

7. Kissed someone and regretted it: Yeah, no I didn’t had that

8. Been cheated on: Well, no relationship, no cheating

9. Lost someone special: Yes

10. Been depressed : I mean... When I’m not

11. Gotten drunk and thrown up: I wasn’t even drunk before... I kinda have a good tolerance 

LIST 3 FAVORITE COLORS:

12-14.Purple, Black and maybe Orange, or like Magenta or Crimson or I don’t know....

IN THE LAST YEAR HAVE YOU:

15. Made new friends: I doubt...

16. Fallen out of love: I have never been in love, my social life is 0! 

17. Laughed until you cried: I think I did

18. Found out someone was talking about you: Yeah, surprise! 

19. Met someone who changed you: Hmmm... In the last year? Nope

20. Found out who your friends are: Well, I always knew who were they

21. Kissed someone on your Facebook list: Still hasn’t had my fist kiss

GENERAL:

22. How many of your Facebook friends do you know in real life: Almost all of them

23. Do you have any pets: 5 cats

24. Do you want to change your name: No

25. What did you do for your last Birthday: I cried until my parents gave in... How heroic. 

26. What time did you wake up: Today? Or all the time? I woke up today at 11:15, I usually around 5:15

27. What were you doing at midnight last night: Reading manga

28. Name something you can’t wait for: Summer vacation? Any school break? Also until I have finally time. Until I draw better. Until I have motivation to write. Until that jerk hopefully gets kicked out of my school. Until I have time to y’know live?

29. When was the last time you saw your mom: I think 10 minutes ago

30. What is one thing you wish you could change in your life: a lOT jesus christ

31. What are you listening to right now: Like song? Then nothing really. Other than songs, the sound of the washing machine

32. Have you ever talked to a person named Tom: Well, the Hungarian equivalent is good or no?

33. Something that is getting on your nerves: Hehe.... Just one thing? Just one? SCHOOL! OrBÁn fucking ViCtor!!! Oooppsss

34. Most visited website: Ugh,,. YouTube?

35. Mole/s: I was tried to count it. It was exactly 100. Now you see. That’s probably fake.

36. Mark/s: Molls, and stretch marks.

37. Childhood dream: Vet or teacher. Y’know like every other kid, 

38. Hair color: Dark brown, that could count as black

39. Long or short hair: Short

40. Do you have a crush on someone: Uhm? Fictional characters?

41. What do you like about yourself?: Ohhmm... I guess.... 

42. Piercings: Noe

43. Blood type: Dunno, maybe B... probably B

44. Nickname: Don’t really have one. I sometimes I use Lina

45. Relationship status: Poly amorous relationship with Saeyoung Choi, Jumin Han, Hyun Ryu and Saerann Choi... Does this count? Probably not. Single 

46. Zodiac: Taurus, though I don’t believe in it really *asks her friend’s astrologist mother to do a full picture because she is still curious*

47. Pronouns: I don’t bother with that stuff, in my native language there is no such a thing. I don’t get mad if you say he. However I’m female so she I guess?

48. Favorite TV Show(s): Brooklyn Nine Nine, Adam Ruins Everything

50. Right or left hand: Right

51. Surgery: Nope

52. Hair dyed in different color: I once had red and purple hair, but we did it with Henna on my dark hair... It was almost invisible

53. Sport: PFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFf..... I used to play basketball.

55. Vacation: What do I do with this? Last time I went to Czechia....

56. Pair of trainers: Purple and black??? What the hell?

MORE GENERAL:

57. Eating: Right now? An apple

58. Drinking: Currently? Nothing

59. I’m about to: Either die or continue my studying. JK, I will probably watch youtube videos and read manga or webtoons

61. Waiting for: My death, the summer break, any break, to have time, that punk to be kicked out, have a language exam, to lose weight, to suddenly become beautiful, the end of school I dunno man...

62. Want: Motivation, talent and yeah,y’know time

63. Get married: I don’t think that will happen

64. Career: Writer, webcomic artist.... Y’know what I’ll never be

WHICH IS BETTER

65. Hugs or kisses: Both is horrible

66. Lips or eyes: Eyes

67. Shorter or taller: What? Well, I guess taller

68. Older or younger: What should I associate this? I guess older.

70. Nice arms or nice stomach: Who the fuck cares? Uhm, I don’t know, stomach

71. Sensitive or loud: Sensitive

72. Hook up or relationship: Relationship... best if romantic but not sexual

73. Troublemaker or hesitant: ?? Well, I’m hesitant so I would kinda need a troublemaker

HAVE YOU EVER:

74. Kissed a Stranger: Nope, I hadn’t had my first kiss yet, and probably never will.

75. Drank hard liquor: Yes, vodka, whiskey and pálinka

76. Lost glasses/contact lenses: I have a great eyesight so I don’t need this stuff

77. Turned someone down: No one ever asked me out

78. Sex on the first date: Noooo. I wasn’t even on a date yet!

79. Broken someone’s heart: Hahaha... Only in Mystic Messenger....

80. Had your heart broken: Doubt so

81. Been arrested:: I honestly never seen police in my life. Well, maybe like 10 times.

82. Cried when someone died: Yes,my grandpa, my cats

83. Fallen for a friend: No

DO YOU BELIEVE IN:

84. Yourself: Why should I, this bitch is useless.

85. Miracles: Kind of?

86. Love at first sight: Noooooooooooooooooooooooooooohohho

87. Santa Claus: Never did

88. Kiss on the first date: Uhm... Like I never went on one

OTHER:

90. Current best friend name: Anna

91. Eye colour: Dark brown

92. Favourite movie: Blues Brothers and Struck by Lightening

I tag @lawlietinblue, @weebbitch, @zelo-s, @weirdo-has-a-blog and you know what? Everyone who sees this post....

[carryonmyobscurialson-blog]

Personal Jesus, Mark 16:9 (Grindlewald/Credence)

A/N: Okay so I normally don’t post chaptered fics on here, but since I know theres more than a few low key noncon kink fans on this website, I thought I’d just slide this one onto the blog anyway. 

You can read the rest of the story here. Or don’t. I think it could still work without context. 

And I’m just going to slip the chapter under the cut. Enjoy!

“Go on then, my Mary -- what are you waiting for?”

Grindlewald stood over Credence, looking down at him with an eyebrow arched, his expression expectant.

He was still dressed in his priest robes, but his shoes were removed. With his feet bare, he inched the right one closer to Credence.

Credence was still shackled and wrapped women’s garb. It was a crimson red dress with an elaborate medieval design. Its length was long, and as Credence was curled up on the floor, the skirt of it splayed around him with the striking resemblance to a pool of blood.

Grindlewald had already explained to him that he had dressed him in the image of Mary Magdalene.

“I doubt I have to explain who that is to a bible thumper such as yourself.” Grindlewald had chuckled, “I thought it was rather befitting, considering she was a whore.”

Credence glared, but to be fair, he had been glaring practically nonstop since he had arrived.

“What was it that Mary Magdalene did when she first met Jesus? Ahhh, that’s right -- she kissed his feet.”

Grindlewald had taken off his shoes, smirking, and had said “I believe proper introductions are in order, then.”

Revulsion shivered through Credence, but he stayed quiet, his sights straying elsewhere.

He was trying to focus on finding a way out of this mess. He had looked just about everywhere else in the room, trying to take in his surroundings --- thinking.

But after not much longer, Grindlewald seemed to grow impatient with Credence’s defiance. Credence felt a sharp kick to his jaw, and he cried out in surprise. Then the same foot that kicked him tapped a larger toe to the bottom of his chin, guiding it gently upward until Credence was looking back up at its owner.

“My boy,” Grindlewald was grinning, “What’s the infamous saying? We can do this the easy way or the hard way. And if you want to do things the hard way, let’s not forget that I can very easily force your memories out of you, and find out where your daddy has been hiding.”

Credence swallowed hard. He didn’t doubt Grindlewald’s power.

Or at least, he wouldn’t want to risk the possibility.

This had been his stupid idea, after all.

Fighting the urge to vomit, Credence leaned forward and hesitantly kissed the top of the foot that was touching his chin. The sensation of his lips on top of his skin, although they barely grazed it, made Credence shiver.

Grindlewald damn near giggled, clearly becoming giddy at the display of surrender. “Good, good.” He bent down and ran a hand through Credence’s hair; a show of approval. “Now, I want you to take the entire big toe into your mouth, and suck on it.”

Credence’s head snapped up to look straight at him, unable to keep the horror and disgust out of his expression.

Of course -- they had arguably done much worse together before… but Credence could never recall any kind of foot play.

It was like he was doing this just to demean him.

Which, all things considered, wasn’t that crazy of a concept.

This time, Grindlewald did not verbally coax him -- but he didn’t need to. The words of his threat were still lingering freshly in the room, and when Credence had given Grindlewald a fair amount of time to clarify that he was joking -- which of course did not -- Credence held his breath and put the entire toe in his mouth.

Grindlewald laughed again, which only helped to confirm Credence’s theory that this was more or less some petty assertion of dominance.

As if reading his mind, Grindlewald stroked his jaw, the same part where he had kicked it, as he crooned, “I missed you, my little concubine.”

Credence only glared up in return, trying to suppress a gag as Grindlewald finally pulled back the foot, removing the toe from his mouth.

But to his dismay, Grindlewald had clearly just been making room for something bigger than his toe, as he began to undo his pants.

“Oh don’t look so frightened,” Grindewald mock pouted, reading Credence’s expression, “I’ll be gentle, I promise.”

Grindlewald’s cock, erect and venous, was suddenly thrust extremely close to his face.

It looked bigger than it had been when he was Percival, at least as far as Credence could bring himself to remember.

“Now, on your knees, Credence. Someone needs to ask Jesus for forgiveness.”

Credence felt another surge of embitterment at the smug remark, but it crumbled away to give way to a different emotion:

Sadness.

The fury and outrage that had been the glue holding up his detached composure thus far broke, and Credence felt himself finally begin to just start bawling. He was helpless to repress the pitiful sobs and heaves in front of Grindlewald, and he hated it.

It made him feel even more humiliated then the damn dress -- because any progress he felt he had made a person, any step forward he thought he had achieved since he had left the church seemed to all be tumbling down like some demolished structure.

Once again, Credence found himself nothing more than a scared child – trembling and powerless to his abuser.

Grindlewald sighed with exasperation.

“I really thought you would enjoy this little role play. You really should be more grateful, you know. Now -- open up for your Lord and Savior.”

He seized Credence’s jaw, which was already soaked in tears, and roughly shoved the enormity of his cock inside in one swift motion. He moaned loudly and seemed to savor the sensation, even though Credence was doing nothing in reciprocation.

“You know,” He prattled on as he violently began to thrust himself into Credence’s mouth with rhythm, “I’ve taken many lovers since we last met… but none quite like you, Credence. I really did miss you.”

Credence could barely focus on what he was even saying.

His lips were already aching for being stretched out so widely, so suddenly. And the sound of Grindlewald’s voice was muffled by his suppressed gags and mewls.

“If it makes you feel any better,” Grindlewald continued anyway, “I lured you here more for the purpose of fucking you then actually using your power --- although that may come another time. But first, we’ll take our time savoring this little reunion, hmm?”

Grindlewald grabbed used his free hand to pull at a clump of Credence’s hair, and yanked on it hard. Out of reflex, Credence was unable to stop himself from biting down as he flinched, his teeth grinding into the enormous shaft in his mouth.

“Ouch…” Grindlewald tittered, although it didn’t actually seem to hurt him much at all, “I’m going to have to punish you for that one.”

He finally withdrew from Credence’s mouth -- a mixture of pre cum and drool spilling out with him -- and Credence immediately began to dry heave. He wanted to vomit, and thought he would vomit, both nothing except tears and saliva seemed to drip on the cold, dirty floor. He realized his stomach was probably too empty of food to have much bile anyway.

Grindlewald bent down and grabbed him by the shoulders, pulling his small frame upward.

Credence yelped as Grindlewald threw him roughly against the wall behind him, head spinning as it bounced against the bricks. Grindlewald positioned him until his stomach was flat against the cold surface, keeping an arm on the small of his neck to ensure that he remained facing it. He pressed up against him, his free hand now rummaging at the skirt of the dress.

“My sweet Mary,” Grindlewald purred lowly into Credence’s ear. He was so close that he could feel the warm breath blow against his face with every word, like the caress of Satan himself. “I’m going to cleanse you of your seven demons.”

Credence wriggled underneath him weakly, but he knew it was useless. He could feel his backside being exposed as Grindlewald lifted up the skirt to allow himself entry, and it only occurred to him now that Grindlewald hadn’t even bothered to put any underwear on him.

As he felt the tip of Grindlewald’s erection poking at the crack of his ass --- pausing, like someone dipping a toe in water to test the temperature --- Credence fought the urge to beg him to stop. He held back, knowing it would likely only arouse Grindlewald even more so.

He was left to brace himself, and sob piteously into the wall.

And as Grindlewald finally shoved himself in, Credence screeched an agonized cry that no one was around to hear.

But that was just it, wasn’t it?

It wasn’t so much the pain, or the sexual contact that they’ve already shared so many times before -- it was the fact that he was alone, he was helpless.

And in all honesty, he had no one but himself to blame for it.

Had he not left their home of his own will?

Had he not waited all day to confront Grindlewald?

Sure, he anticipated that this could be a suicide mission. But honestly, Credence had only considered the possibility that Grindlewald could just kill him on the spot.

He had forgotten just how sadistic Gellert Grindlewald could be, apparently. He should have known that just killing him off wouldn’t have been any fun for the perverted, twisted heathen that he was.

And now, they were here, with Grindlewald’s dick jamming repeatedly into Credence’s ass, Credence gasping and panting and sputtering beneath him.

With no Percival to protect him.

If he hadn’t let his own anger get the better of him; if he only hadn’t been so brash -- he would be back home with Percival now. He would be safe. Credence tried to envision what Percival might be doing now, if there was any way he could save him anyway, but he knew it was a long shot.

Percival had no idea where he had gone, and likely wasn’t going to do some nationwide search of America with MACUSA on the lookout.

Credence inhaled sharply as Grindlewald enclosed a hand around his own cock, which was still flaccid and soft.

He yanked on it, and again Credence screamed and Grindlewald moaned.

He began to thrust faster into him, and Credence had to turn his face sideways on the wall just so he didn’t break his nose in the process. He again had to resist the unspoken pleas that teetered on his lips as he felt his entire lower half truly start to ache and burn from all the strain.

He wouldn’t grovel.

Not yet, at least.

“You’re so tight…” Grindlewald muttered, “Did daddy not fuck you hard enough or am I just that much bigger?”

Credence did not answer that, but the honest truth was that Grindlewald was much larger this time around; to the point where he had wondered if Grindlewald might end up actually killing him by ripping through his rectum.

Credence could feel the warm sensation of blood already running down the back of his thighs, dripping to the ground.

Suddenly, Grindlewald started counting.

“One…”

He thrusted particularly hard, to which Credence whimpered.

“…two…”

Harder. Credence groaned, his knees buckling, Grindlewald’s body likely the only thing holding him upright.

“…three…”

Harder.

That one elicited a full blown scream -- he was becoming lightheaded.

“…four…”

Harder.

And finally, to the sound of Grindlewal’s moans of euphoria -- Credence fainted.

Mark 16:9

Now when Jesus was risen early the first day of the week, he appeared first to Mary Magdalene, out of whom he had cast seven devils.

[calummwhatchasay]

Fuck, In Every Sense of the Word (cashton&muke)

1. this is based off a post on this website but idk where it is 2. so fucikgn fluffy 3. also kinda long im sorry 4. (my grammar is good in my writing, this is the lazy part)

-----

The busboy is really cute. Like. Fuckign. Okay. It’s fine, really. Luke isn’t even staring. (Except he totally is.) Deep breaths. A baseball cap sits backwards on his head and the tips of his hair are bleached, but his roots have grown out and his natural brown color shows. His green eyes have glazed over a bit as he wipes the same table for the fifth time.

“Hi! It’s nice to meet you, my name is Ashton. I’m your best friend and am not anywhere near that table in the corner. If you could maybe listen to me complain about my History lecture, that would be awesome.”

“Fuck off. Besides, I’ve heard you complain about your lecture a million times. I’ve never seen him before. Though, I wouldn’t mind seeing him again.”

“Thirsty much? Maybe chill a little.”

“Can I get you all anything to drink?” A waiter with brown eyes and a name tag reading ‘Hello! My name is none of your business’ asks.

“Um-I, um, yes, we’d, er-” Ashton stutters continuously while trying to take his eyes off the waiter long enough to look at the menu.

“Ashton, you look a little flushed, are you feeling okay?” Luke asks Ashton, his laughter barely contained by mock-concern. “Why don’t you get an iced coffee, to help you cool off. And for me,” Luke grins at the waiter, and then looks back at Ashton, “tea.”

“Alrighty then. I’ll be back with your drinks in just a minute.” The waiter beams at the two.

Once the waiter’s ass has disappeared behind the doors to the kitchen, Ashton reverts his attention to Luke’s shit-eating grin. A quirk of Luke’s eyebrow has the contented smile on Ashton’s lips contorted into a grimace. “Fight me.” Luke’s grin only grows.

“Shut up.”

“Leave.”

“Let me live.”

“I’m bored of this conversation.” Luke sighs dramatically.

“I’m bored of you.”

Luke ignores Ashton’s weak attempt at an insult. “Entertain me.”

Ashton groans but concedes, inevitably. “Fine. Let’s play a game.”

“Okay, what game.”

“I don’t know! Do I have to do everything around here?” Ashton throws up his hands.

“Well… I don’t know how to put this. But, uh, yes. Remember? In the car on the way over here you said it yourself. ‘Luke, you are so useless. I swear, I have to do everything myself.’”

“Okay, okay, shut up.”

“That’s the second time you’ve said that to me in half as many minutes.”

“Shut up.” Luke glares, but lets him continue. “What about Truth or Dare?”

“Are we 13 and at a sleepover?” Luke questions, unimpressed.

“In terms of maturity? Yes, yes we are.”

“We are not playing Truth or Dare in the middle of a restaurant.”

“Never Have I Ever?”

“We know literally everything about each other.”

“Fuck, Marry, Kill?” Luke ponders this for a second, attempting to come up with a legitimate reason not to play.

“We really are as mature as 13-year-olds, aren’t we?” He murmurs, shaking his head in exasperation.

“I’ll take that as a yes. Okay, let’s start easy. The Chrises: Hemsworth, Evans, Pratt.”

“This is easy?” Luke mutters, eyes wide. Ashton cackles in a way that’s a lot scarier than it should be. “Fuck, um. Fuck, uh…”

“I can’t tell if you’re trying to decide who to fuck, or you’re just generally stressed.”

“Okay, um. Marry Evans, fuck Hemsworth, and, oh god, no! I guess kill Pratt. I don’t want to do that! This sucks, this is the worst.”

“I would fuck Evans, marry Pratt, kill Hemsworth.”

“I couldn’t kill Hemsworth! I wouldn’t.” Luke puts hand on his forehead, in a somewhat ridiculous fashion. “Okay, how about Hayley Williams, Selena Gomez, Shailene Woodley.”

“Wow, okay. Um…” Ashton pauses, scrunching up his face in thought. “Yea, fuck Selena, marry Hayley, kill Shailene.”

Luke tsks. “Marry Shailene, fuck Hayley, kill Selena.”

“I’ve got one! Lucy, Franklin, and Peppermint Patty from Peanuts.”

“You are sick-minded.” Luke says, glaring across the table. Ashton’s lips spread into a wide grin, and he lets out a slight chuckle. “Fuck Peppermint Patty, marry Franklin, kill Lucy.” Luke says with a decisive nod.

“That was an awful quick decision for such a,” Ashton makes air quotes with his fingers, “‘sick’ group.”

“What about you?”

“Easy. Fuck Lucy, marry Franklin, kill Patty.”

“Franklin just seems like husband material, right?”

“Oh yea, definitely.”

“Um, here are your drinks.” The waiter interjects, as he returns with the drinks. It’s as if someone’s painted a pink stripe across Ashton’s cheeks, his blush is so bright.

“Thanks.” Ashton mutters into his lap.

“Yea, thanks so much, None of Your Business.” The waiter looks somewhat offended before he realizes Luke is just reading his name tag.

“Right. Would you all like to order?” Luke looks to Ashton to see if he’s chosen what he’s going to eat. He’s still gawping at the waiter like he’s Jesus Reincarnate.

“You know, we haven’t even looked at our menus. Could you come back in a few?” The waiter smiles graciously before making his way back to the kitchen.

“Get your shit together, Ashton.” Luke leans across the table to (not-so) lightly hit him with the menu that has yet to be opened.

“Leave me alone? What did I do to deserve this? I am so nice and kind all the time?” Luke frowns at him, completely unconvinced. “Shut up.” Ashton says, sticking his tongue out.

“I didn’t even say anything!” Luke throws up his hands, entirely too done with his best friend.

“Whatever. What do you want to eat?”

“Um. Um, I think, uh…” Luke trails off, not even looking at his menu.

“What are you-” Ashton turns to see what Luke is staring at and finds the same busboy from earlier, now helping their waiter with a big order at another table. “Oh.”

The two boys sit in silence, each trapped in their own minds. The waiter and the busboy are returning to the kitchen far too quickly, and Ashton has turned his attention back to deciding what to eat. He looks up to ask Luke if maybe they ought to split a pizza? But Luke is still staring at the doors to the kitchen, lost in thought.

“I’m not saying you can’t talk but…” Ashton grabs Luke’s tea and takes a sip.

“Oh, fuck off.” Luke grumbles. Ashton laughs, but gives Luke his drink back.

“Do you want to split a pizza?”

“Only if there are banana peppers on it.”

“Deal.”

“Fuck, marry, kill, Elmo, Cookie Monster, Oscar the Grouch.”

“Luke, what the fuck.”

“Says Mr Peanuts Characters.”

“At least they’re human!” Ashton exclaims.

“Pick.”

“Fuck Cookie Monster, marry Elmo, kill Oscar.” Ashton sighs, dejected.

“Really? Cookie Monster?” Luke looks genuinely surprised.

“I mean, yea, I’d fuck Cookie Monster.” Ashton shrugs.

A cough prevents Luke from further probing. “Um… Are you all ready to er, order?”

Luke breaks eye contact with Ashton to look at their waiter, who’s nervously fiddling with his pen. Ashton sits stock still. The only way Luke knows he’s alive is the way his face pales when their waiter first speaks, and then reverts back to the bright pink that Ashton seems to usually flush when their waiter comes around.

“Yea, yes we do. We’ll have a medium pizza with banana peppers and…” Luke glances at Ashton to see if there are any more toppings he’d like, “and that’ll be all.” Luke smiles at the waiter before handing him their two menus.

“Alright, it’ll be out in about fifteen minutes.” The waiter starts to turn back to the kitchen, but rotates back quickly, “I would fuck Cookie Monster too, by the way.” He then quickly returns to the kitchen.

“Well that was the worst thing that’s ever happened in the world, ever.”

“Maybe you’re exaggerating a tiny bit?”

“No, most definitely not.”

“Fuck, marry, kill-”

“No.”

“Why not?” Luke pouts, jutting out his bottom lip.

“Because, Luke. Stop being like this.”

“No, I don’t understand, Ash.” Ashton glares at Luke, but fails to respond. “Can you please explain?”

“Luke, I swear…” Ashton sighs, dropping his head into his hands.

“Fuck, marry, kill, our waiter, the busboy, and, um…" Luke pauses, unsure of who to add to his list. He searches the restaurant for someone attractive enough to make Ashton squirm. He glances past Ashton and catches a glimpse of his reflection in the window. “And me.”

“Hmm, okay.”

“If you say kill me, we’re going to have to fight.”

“That’s not much of a threat, we both know you would lose.”

“Shut up. Answer.”

“That’s a bit contradictory, isn’t it?”

“Whatever. Shut up. Fuck off. Answer.”

Ashton chuckles, but answers all the same. “Kill the busboy, fuck the waiter, and marry you.”

“You would kill the busboy?” Luke gasps. “Wait." Luke holds up a hand, as if physically asking to Ashton to stop. “You would marry me?” Luke puts his hands over his heart. “I’m flattered.”

“I change my mind, I’m marrying the waiter, fucking the busboy, and murdering you with a blunt instrument, so it’s extremely painful.”

“Honestly, I can’t blame you. The busboy is beautiful. I want him to have my children.” Luke nods in earnest. Ashton smirks.

“What?” Luke’s eyebrows knit together. “Is there tea on my face?”

“No, no.” Ashton’s smile only seems to grow, “You’re just so whipped for someone you’ve never met.”

“I’m not whipped!” Luke flushes.

“Mhmm. Your blush disagrees.”

“Shut up.”

“Nah.” Ashton shakes his head. “Fuck, marry, kill: Busboy, Waiter, me.”

“Fuck the busboy, marry you, kill the waiter.” Luke replies after a breath. Ashton quirks an eyebrow.

“Oh? You aren’t going to marry the busboy.”

“Well, it’s like you said... I barely know him. He could just be a really hot serial killer. You and I, our marriage would be loveless, but I wouldn’t be dead. And I would just have multiple sidechicks.”

“Or sidedicks.”

“Or sidedicks.” Luke agrees.

Ashton reaches across the table to reach the salt and spills Luke’s drink everywhere. “Ashton! What the fuck! What the hell were you even going to salt?!”

“My, um, coffee?”

“Why are you being so wei-”

“Excuse me,” Ashton raises his hand, waving someone over, “would you mind helping us clean this up?” 

Within seconds, the blondish brunette is standing at the pair’s table, a towel in hand and a rosy tint on his cheekbones.

“I would love to help, but I need to use the bathroom.” Ashton beams, a glint in his eye.

“Ashton.” Luke spits, gritting his teeth.

“I really have to pee, Luke.” Ashton offers Luke a very fake pout and leaves the booth.

“Ashton Fletcher Irwin!” Luke all but shouts after him. The busboy rocks back and forth on his heels.

“My company really isn’t that bad, y’know. And I’m not a serial killer.” He shrugs, starting to mop up the mess on the table.

“I-I didn’t think, I just- um, sorry, I’m-” Luke stammers, unable to string words together in a sensible order.

“Shh...” The busboy puts a finger to Luke’s lips.

“Er...” Luke sits there, listless. The busboy moves around dishes and continues to soak up the tea. All Luke can do is sit there like a dumbass, staring at the sharp angle of the boy’s jawline and thinking about how warm the boy’s hand was.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have- I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable, I just- You were stammering, and I- well, I-” Luke interrupts to busboy, putting a finger to his lips.

“Shh.” The busboy’s lips curve into a (really cute, oh my god) smile. Luke pulls his hand back to his lap. His cheeks are pink again.

“Have you got a name?”

“Y-yea. I’m Luke.”

“Luke,” The boy pulls his eyebrows together, “Suits you. I’ll tell your waiter to bring you a new tea.” And then the mysterious busboy turns tail and walks back to the kitchen.

“So.” Ashton says, sliding back into his seat.

“So.” Luke stares across the table at Ashton. “How was your piss?”

“Jesus, you’re petty.”

“And you’re a little bitch, but what else is new?”

“I’m not saying I hate you, but...”

“I change my mind. I’m marrying the busboy and killing you.”

“What’s his name?”

“Who?”

“The busboy. What’s his name.”

“I, er, don’t know.”

“You didn’t ask for his name. You talked to him for like five minutes and you didn’t get his name.”

“I was busy!”

“Doing what?” Ashton all but screeches, “Daydreaming?!”

“Maybe.” Luke mutters.

“Honestly.” Ashton shakes his head.

“Here’s your pizza guys.” The waiter puts the pizza down, “Your tea,” He puts Luke’s tea on the table in front of him, “and, Ashton, do you want a refill?” He starts chewing on his pen, looking intently at Ashton.

“You, um, you know my- er, um... no. Thank you. No thank you. But, a water would be nice?”

“Sure thing!” The waiter is a little too excited to bring a customer water in Luke’s opinion, but Ashton is also far too nervous to order one. They just might be a match made in heaven. The waiter heads back towards the kitchen.

“You didn’t get his name?! What were you doing? Daydreaming!”

“Shut up.” Ashton groans.

“Let’s just eat, yea?”

“Whatever.” Ashton grumbles, taking two slices. Luke rolls his eyes, grabbing a few slices of his own.

“Here’s your water!” 

“Thank you, um, thanks so much.” The waiter stands there a few seconds too long, just looking at Ashton.

“Right.” He straightens his back, as if knocking himself out of stupor, “If you need anything, I’ll be over there.” He points to the kitchen. “So... yea.”

“Wait! Who should I ask for? If I need something.”

“Calum. I’m Calum.” And he turns around and doesn’t quite sprint back to the kitchen.

“You two are sickening.”

“Oh, fuck off.”

“You got his name though. I envy you that.”

“Chill. Eat your pizza.” Ashton grabs a third piece.

“God, you’re annoying when you’re hungry. And when you’re not. You’re actually just always annoying.”

“Wow, thanks. Remind me to never ask you to be my wingman ever.”

“I have a feeling you won’t need a wingman after today.”

“What’s that meant to mean?”

“That was redundant.”

“And that was irrelevant. Are you going to really going to kill me? Is that why I won’t need a wingman? Because, it’s just a game. You’re not actually supposed to fuck, marry, and kill the people you say you will in the game.”

“Shut up. I was just trying to say I think you and Calum,” Luke does a little dance with his eyebrows that just makes Ashton uncomfortable, “might be thE START OF SOMETHING NEW!” Ashton puts his head in his hands because why, of all people, is this idiot his best friend? “No, but seriously,” Luke pokes him, “I think he likes you.” Luke says, finishing his third piece of pizza.

“Yea?”

“Yea.”

“What if he’s straight.”

“I think he’s about as straight as a shape with a 2πr perimeter.”

“Did you just fucking say that.” Luke shrugs at Ashton’s appalled expression. “I hate you.”

“The feeling is mutual.” Luke finishes his fourth slice.

“Dessert?” Calum asks, coming over to their table. Luke glances at Ashton. No response. If he plans on asking this boy out anytime soon, he needs to work on his voice box functionality when their waiter comes around.

“I think the check will do. Should we bring it back there, or...?” Luke asks as Calum hands him the check.

“I’ll come grab it.”

“Thanks, Calum.” Luke smiles. “You know,” he says turning to Ashton, “if you ever intend to make a move, you need to actually speak. As of current, I’m pretty sure he thinks I like him, which couldn’t be farther from the truth.”

“Hell no, Luke. Get your hands off my man!”

“Okay, a) calm down, b) people are staring, so c) calm down more. D) I don’t like him, e) he isn’t your man,” Luke puts his pointer finger up at Ashton’s indignant expression, “f) yet, and g) my hands aren’t anywhere near him.”

“Jesus this isn’t kindergarten, you and your alphabet need to chill. Also, he will be my man, and your hands better never be anywhere near him.”

“Thank you all for coming to eat with us!” Calum beams as Luke hands back the check and two twenties.

“You owe me twenty bucks Ashton. And I believe you owe this gentleman a thank you.” Luke stands up to leave. “I’ll be in the car, if you ever manage to open your mouth.”

“Fuc-”

“Ashton Fletcher! Language! Please do not use expletives in public, there could be children about!” Ashton just glares as Luke exits the restaurant.

“Ashton, I am so sorry,” Calum wrings his hands together, “I’ll be right back, I just have to take of something real quick. Please wait?” Calum asks, a worried expression plaguing his chiseled features.

“Of course.” A smile graces Ashton’s lips, and it’s bright in the way that reminds Calum of the sun, but soft in the way that reminds him of it setting on the ocean.

Calum rushes back to the kitchen, and less than a minute later, he and the busboy are walking back out at Olympic speed. The busboy continues towards the exit and Calum makes his way back to Ashton.

“Sorry, I kind of...” Calum trails off when his gaze switches from the door to Ashton.

“No, yea. Of course.” Ashton breaks himself out of the trance he seems to fall into every time Calum is around.

“Fletcher, huh?”

“Do we have to talk about that? I’d really rather not.”

“Aw, c’mon! It’s cute.” Calum pauses as if he’s about to say something else, but he isn’t quite sure he should. “You’re cute.”

“I-” Ashton almost says he isn’t, but Luke’s been telling him he needs to learn to accept compliments, “Thank you.” The silence hangs in the air for a minute. “So, what’s your middle name.”

“Oh, wouldn’t you like to know.”

“I would. Very much.”

“Maybe I’ll tell you later.”

“Oh? How much later?”

“A couple days, maybe. Over french bread and cheese that tastes expensive, but I got for free from my sister who works at a cheese shop.”

“Maybe at an overlook where we can watch the sunset. It’s a bit of a hike but,” Ashton looks Calum up and down, “I don’t think that’ll be a problem for you.” (And if Ashton is disproportionately proud of himself for not fainting, no one needs to know.)

“How’s Friday sound?” Calum grins.

“How’s I’ll pick you up at 7 sound?” Ashton grins back.

“Perfect.” Calum hands Ashton his phone and Ashton inputs his number.

“Text me.” Ashton turns around to leave, and congratulate himself on what may have been the most successful flirting of his life.

“Oi!” Ashton looks over his shoulder at Calum. “Thanks for the tip.”

“Luke paid?”

Calum lets his eyes drift down to Ashton’s butt, “Yea, but your tip was better.” He winks cheekily, and Ashton thinks he could get used to this.

-

5 minutes ago

Michael bursts through the doors to the parking lot. “Where, where, where!” He mutters, tugging at the short hair sticking out from his baseball cap. He spots broad shoulders and blond hair a couple of rows over. “Luke!”

Luke spins around, not knowing quite what to look for. “Busboy?” Luke looks confused, concerned, maybe a tinge hopeful, but Michael’s probably imagining that.

Michael maneuvers around the shoddy parking jobs towards Luke. “Hey. Hi.” He smiles, a tad shyer than before.

“Um, hi. Is everything okay?” Luke’s face pales for a second. “Ashton- Ashton isn’t hurt is he, because I-”

“No, he’s alright.” Michael puts his hand on Luke’s shoulder to calm him down, “I just wanted to- to talk to you.” Luke smiles, just a little.

“Yea? About what?”

“I know you’re a tea guy, but, I know this hole-in-the-wall coffee shop where they sometimes have music. I’ve heard it’s a pretty good place for first dates.”

“Were you going to ask someone out?” Luke asks. Michael honestly isn’t sure whether he’s kidding, or if he honestly doesn’t know Michael is trying to ask him out. “Tinder date?”

“No, Luke, I-”

“Not a Tinder date? Who then?”

“Luke, please.” Luke lifts an eyebrow (A single eyebrow! How does he do that? Michael’s eyebrows do not work independent of each other.) “You, Luke. Would you like to go to this kind of lame coffee shop I know, where the lighting is low but the music is good, and the people are quiet. Would you go on a date with me?”

“I might, maybe. Probably. Normally. But I can’t.” And Michael’s face falls, and Luke might cry, but goddammit, he’s going to stay strong, because this is only fair.

“I understand. I didn’t mean to bother you. I really need to be getting back anyway, um-”

“I can’t, because my mum always told me not to go places with strange men you don’t know. And a certain busboy I find awful cute never told me his name.”

“You dick. I was about to go cry into my dish towel, you know.”

“Oh you were not, you are so over-dramatic.”

“I was! It’s not every day a really cute guy comes into your workplace and tries to flirt with you but is too nervous, but in being nervous only gets cuter! I was very upset!”

“You think I’m cute?”

“I thought that was very obvious. Was it not? Let me clarify: I think you are probably both the cutest and the hottest guy I have ever seen, simultaneously. And I look in the mirror every morning.”

Luke hums, biting his lip to keep from splitting his cheeks, “That’s pretty hard to compete with.”

“Lunch then? On Saturday? I’ll pick you up?”

“You haven’t given me your number, told me where we’re going, given me a specific time, or told me your fucking name.”

“I’m sorry! You’re just- really distracting, you know that? I can’t get my mind off of you long enough to remember how to hold a conversation.”

Luke looks at his beat up Converse. “Thank you. You’re pretty cute yourself.”

“It’s Michael,” He can’t keep the grin off his face, “Before I forget. Michael Clifford.” Luke looks up, and his smile must be a thousand watts, in Michael’s estimation. Luke hands the busboy - Michael - his phone. “I’ll text you my address.”

“Yea. You do that, Luke. I’ll come pick you up. We’ll go on a date. I’ll go on a date with you. ‘Cos you said yes. Sounds like a plan.”

“Shh.” Luke puts his finger to Michael’s lips. “We can talk on Saturday. Now, get back to work.”

MASTERLIST

5. no one blushes this much?? 6. i came up with the word sidedicks on the spot who’s proud of me 7. ‘disproportionately’ is a really long word 8. i use so many variations of the word smile js 9. the ending is kinda shoddy im sorry 10. should i have put a ‘read more’ in? probably. did i? nope.