#Is this the scene I centered the whole fic around? yes it is!

[thefortysecondolive]

Also... dieses Fic ist etwas aus dem Ruder gelaufen. Ich wollte es vorm Ende Juni fertig haben, aber habe jetzt über 4k Wörter und nur ~23% des Fics, also... da es eigentlich für Pride gemeint war möchte ich einen Auszug zum monatlichen Prompt von @spatortprompts (Coming-Out) teilen:

Sie sitzen in Caros Wohnzimmer, jeweils mit einer Tasse Kaffee und einem Stück Kuchen, und erzählen sich gegenseitig, was in den letzten Wochen passiert ist. Über den Fall an sich kann Leo nicht viel sagen, aber er versucht, über seinen Leben außerhalb der Arbeit mindestens ein wenig zu erzählen. Er erwähnt nicht so präzis, dass Adam noch so oft bei ihm ist, obwohl Caro es bestimmt ohne Erklärung weiß und ihm kein Vorwurf deswegen macht. Es ist halt einfacher, nie zu viel dazu zu sagen, weil ihm sowieso nicht ganz klar ist, was genau da läuft. 

Ihrerseits erzählt ihm Caro darüber, wie die ersten Monate des Schuljahrs gelaufen sind und was für Wahnsinn ihre Klasse von Sechs- und Sieben-Jährigen immer anstellen. Er hört ihr dabei unglaublich gern zu, vor allem weil es so offensichtlich ist, wie sehr sie ihre Arbeit mag — auch wenn die Kinder und die Kollegen manchmal echt stressig sind. Dass sie sich noch obendrein darauf freut, ihre eigenen Kinder zu haben, ist ihm fast schon ein Wunder, aber das tut sie, und hat sie auch immer getan. 

Und dann kommt schließlich die Frage, während Leo die Tassen ausspült: „Wie läuft’s mit Adam?“ 

Momentlang weiß Leo nicht, wie er darauf antworten soll. Er spielt sich lässig vor, zuckt mit den Schultern, sagt, „Na, gut. Nichts Neues. Wie läuft’s mit Tom?“

„Ganz wunderschön, eigentlich,“ erwidert Caro trocken, „aber du glaubst doch selbst nicht, dass du so einfach davonkommen wirst. Er wohnt doch noch bei dir, oder?“ 

Leo seufzt. Er hatte nichts anders erwartet, aber der Versuch war’s wert gewesen. Er dreht sich um und lehnt mit den Hüften gegen den Tresen. „Wohnen ist vielleicht zu viel gesagt,“ gibt er zu. „Er hat ein Schlüssel und benutzt die meisten Nächte mein Gästezimmer, aber eingezogen ist er nicht.“ 

„Habt ihr darüber gesprochen?“ 

Er zögert, dann zuckt nochmal mit den Schultern. „Er weiß, dass er bei mir willkommen ist. Und in Sicherheit, was nach allem vielleicht das Wichtigeres ist. Aber so ganz genau über dem Einziehen, nee, haben wir nicht.“ 

„Willst du, dass er einzieht?“ 

Er muss einmal tief Luft holen, ehe er die Antwort über die Lippen bringt. Weil natürlich will er, dass Adam einzieht. Eigentlich ist es ihm nicht mal peinlich, dass Caro gegenüber zuzugeben — sie kennt ihn ja sowieso gut genug — aber trotzdem fühlt er sich auf einmal irgendwie rastlos. Er tippt mit seinem linken Mittelfinger am Tresen neben seine Hüfte, blickt von Caro weg, blickt zurück. Sagt: „Ja. Ja, ich glaube schon.“ 

Caro liegt den Kopf leicht schief. „Aber...?“

Er schnauft leise. „Nichts aber.“ Dazu bekommt er nicht mal eine Antwort; Caro hebt ungläubig eine Augenbraue und wartet. Er seufzt und lässt sich den Kopf in den Nacken hangen. „Aber, ich weiß nicht, was er davon hält, und ich will nichts zwingen.“ 

Die Ungläubigkeit ist nicht von Caros Gesicht verschwunden, als er den Kopf richtet und ihr Blick wieder trifft. „Er übernachtet die meisten Nächte bei dir—und du hast ihm sogar ein Schlüssel gegeben—ohne dass ihr so richtig darüber gesprochen habt, und du weißt nicht, was er davon hält? Leo, komm schon.“ 

„Was?“ 

„Wie bist du eigentlich Kommissar geworden?“ fragt Caro, scherzhaft und ganz rhetorisch. „Es steht dir buchstäblich unter die Nase, und du raffst es wirklich nicht.“ 

Er ahnt, wohin dies führt. Es ist ja nicht das erste Mal im Laufe der Jahre, dass Caro ein solches Gespräch begonnen hat. Normalerweise weicht er aus, wechselt das Thema, aber heute hat er davon genüg. Immer eine Ausrede zu haben, immer von allen die gleichen Fragen zu hören, immer wieder sich selbst zu hinterfragen und an sich zu zweifeln—er ist halt einfach müde. Und es ist nur Caro. Er stößt sich von dem Tresen ab und geht die drei Schritte auf den Fenster zu. „Was raff ich nicht, deiner Meinung nach?“ 

„Deine Gefühle zu gestehen.“ 

Er stoßt Luft aus in einem ironischen Halblachen. „Welche Gefühle?“ 

„Leo. Hey, schau mich an.“ Widerwillig dreht er um, verschränkt sich die Arme vor der Brust und wünscht sich, er hatte noch eine Tasse Kaffee, um sich die Hände zu beschäftigen. Er erwartet weitere Fragen, vielleicht die Behauptung, dass er und Adam sich nicht nur als Freunden benehmen, aber Caro wirkt nur ein bisschen besorgt. „Was ist los?“ fragt sie. 

„Nichts,“ besteht er. Sie wartet. „Nichts! Er ist mein bester Freund, und es ist schön, dass er da ist, und ehrlich gesagt, da ist ganz schön viele Scheiße zwischen uns passiert, und ich will’s nicht wieder versauen. Okay? Das ist alles.“ 

„Wirklich?“ 

Jetzt wird er schließlich genervt. Er mag es nie, wenn sie ihn anspricht als wäre er noch ein Kind. „Ja, verdammt. Was willst du denn hören? Dass ich in ihm verliebt bin, oder was?“

„Willst du mir sagen, dass du das nicht bist?“ 

Er hält inne, ein Widerspruch schon auf der Zunge. Er könnte lügen, aber Caro würde es sofort durchschauen. Deshalb atmet er tief durch und sagt, „Ich weiß nicht.“

„Wie kannst du das nicht wissen?“ Sie scheint wirklich nicht zu verstehen, und ein Teil von Leo würde am liebsten schreien. Wenn er wusste, wie man sich richtig verliebt, hatte er es wahrscheinlich schon längst getan. 

Stattdessen fängt er an, auf und ab durch die Küche zu gehen. Er weiß nicht wirklich, wohin mit sich selbst, aber einfach still bleiben kann er nicht. „Ich weiß es halt nicht, verdammt nochmal, was ist da nicht zu verstehen? Ich hab‘ keine Ahnung.“ Hat er auch nicht, aber es fühlt sich noch irgendwie wie eine Ausrede an. Als hätte er einfach nicht darüber gedacht, statt immer und immer wieder in die gleichen kreisenden Gedanken gefallen zu sein. 

Caro sagt, „Leo —“ aber diesmal lässt er sie nicht aussprechen.

Er fährt herum und fängt ihren Blick. „Caro, ich steh‘ nicht mal auf ihn!“ Es soll bestimmt sein, eine feste Behauptung, aber es klingt rau und ein wenig verzweifelt in seinen eigenen Ohren — und er weiß, dass Caro es auch hört. Dafür kann er nichts; verzweifelt beschreibt ziemlich genau, wie er sich gerade fühlt. „Und ich weiß nicht, was mit mir nicht stimmt, aber ich habe auch nie auf irgendjemand gestanden, niemals! Nicht so richtig.“

„Wie, nicht so richtig?“ Jetzt scheint sie wenigstens zu verstehen, dass ihm nicht wirklich nach scherzen ist, und schon gar nicht nach scherzen über Adam. 

„Nicht so —“ Weiter kommt er erst mal nicht. Wie soll er ihr denn bitte erklären, was er sich nicht fühlt? Er wirft eine Hand frustriert in die Luft. „Du weißt schon.“

Caro verschränkt die Arme stur vor der Brust. „Nee, tu‘ ich nicht. Aber ich glaube nicht, dass irgendetwas mit dir nicht stimmt.“ 

„Doch.“ Mal wieder wendet er ab, verschränkt sich die Finger in den Nacken. Da er Caro nicht ansehen muss, schafft er es gerade fortzuführen, „Das, was du mit Tom hast, das geht bei mir gar nicht. Und ich hab‘s versucht, mehrmals, aber es hat nie geklappt. Sie wollten alle — immer mehr. Mehr als ich dafür bereit war. Und manche habe ich‘s ja trotzdem gegeben, aber das hat’s immer nur noch schlimmer gemacht und dann – naja. Geht‘s halt nicht.“

„Und mit ‚mehr‘ meinst du…?“

„Sex, hauptsächlich.“ Eine leicht beschämte Wärme steigt ihm ins Gesicht. Ihm wäre‘s viel lieber, wirklich halt nie Sex zu besprechen, und schon gar nicht seiner Schwester gegenüber. Dass er sie dabei nicht in die Augen sehen muss, macht es nicht viel besser. Die Küche fühlt unangenehm eng an.

Er hört, wie Caro aufsteht und auf ihn zukommt. Sie liegt ihm eine Hand auf die Schulter und zieht sanft, um ihn herumzudrehen. Widerwillig lässt er sich drehen, und schafft es gerade nicht, ihr Blick auszuweichen. Sie sieht ihm fest und eindringlich in die Augen. „Leo… hat man dir gezwungen?“

Er braucht einen Augenblick, um die Frage zu verstehen. „Hä? Achso, nee. Nee, nee, ich wollte das. Oder so hab‘ ich mich eingeredet.“ Es fühlt sich an wie eine Beichte. 

Ganz nüchtern und ernst sagt sie, „Du musst nichts machen, was du nicht willst. Das weißt du doch.“ Der Rest seines Frusts bricht wie eine Welle zusammen, und er nickt verlegen. „Also warum hast du dir das angetan?“ 

Irgendwie vermutet er, sie würde ein weiteres ,Ich weiß nicht‘ nicht akzeptieren. „Ich dachte, es würde irgendwann gut laufen. Mit der richtigen Person. Ist es aber nicht.“  

Caro scheint das momentlang zu überlegen. Schließlich sagt sie, „Naja, vielleicht hast du sie doch einfach noch nicht gefunden, aber Leo —“ er reißt sich von ihr ab und kehrt auf den Fenster zurück. Genau davon hat er gehofft, sie würde es nicht sagen, und jetzt ist seine Kehle wie zusammengeschnürt. Hinter ihm fährt sie hastig fort, „Leo, hey, hör mir zu. Auch wenn nicht, das ist vollkommen okay. Wenn du dich nie verliebst oder halt nie Sex willst — das bedeutet nicht, dass an dir irgendwas fehlt, oder dass irgendwas mit dir nicht stimmt.“

Er lacht erstickt auf, ehe er es verkneifen kann. Jetzt spürt er die ersten Tränen, die hinter seinen Augen sammeln. Seine Stimme, als er antwortet, ist nicht mehr als ein Flüstern. „Das weißt du doch nicht.“ 

„Doch,“ sagt Caro bestimmt. „Doch, das weiß ich. Du bist mein kleiner Bruder, und du bist perfekt, so wie du bist. Es freut mich, dass Adam jetzt bei dir ist, und dass ihr wieder Freunde seid. Und wenn das für dich gut ist, dann ist es halt gut.“ 

Er holt ein-, zweimal tief Luft. Es hilft nicht viel; die Schnür um seine Kehle verschwindet nicht, aber die Tränen fallen auch nicht, was er als Sieg wertet. „Es ist gut,“ bestätigt er leise, ohne wieder rumzudrehen und Caro anzuschauen. „Deshalb will ich es nicht versauen.“ 

Caros antwortende Fragen kommt nicht sofort. „Wieso glaubst du, du wirst es versauen?“ 

Es fällt ihm unwillkürlich wieder ein, wie Adams Augen sich diese Morgen weiteten, als Leo in die Küche kam. „Was, wenn er mehr will?“ 

„Dann könnt ihr drüber reden,“ erwidert Caro sachlich. „Was ihr wirklich ohnehin tun sollt. Ich sehe, wie er dich immer anschaut, Leo. Ich kann mir nicht vorstellen, dass er dich zu irgendwas zwingen will. Ich glaube, ausgerechnet er würde es verstehen, wenn es einige Dinge gibt, die du nicht machen willst.“ 

Wahrscheinlich hat sie da auch recht, aber das Risiko fühlt noch viel zu hoch. „Es geht nicht ums Zwingen.“ 

„Worum denn?“ 

Endlich ringt er sich durch, sich zu Caro zu wenden. „Ich will ihn lieben,“ haucht er. „Aber ich weiß nicht, wie.“ 

„Ach, Leo.“ Sie zieht ihn einfach zu sich, und er lässt sich in die Umarmung sacken. Sie ist schon seit etwa fünfundzwanzig Jahren kleiner als ihn, aber die Geborgenheit, die er in ihren Armen fühlt, ist nie geändert. Sie lässt ihn nicht los, bis er sich schließlich wieder aufrichtet, und sagt auch nichts dazu, dass er sich mit einer Hand schnell über die Augen wischt. 

Er verabschiedet sich kurz danach; die Stimmung ist unerträglich schwer geworden. Leo hat nicht genug Energie, sie wieder heben zu versuchen, und Caro scheint auf einmal etwas unsicher, wie sie mit ihm umgehen soll. Das macht es nur schlimmer, und als er schließlich nach Hause fährt ist seine gute Laune regelrecht zerstört. 

Ein paar Tage später bekommt er zwei Nachrichte von Caro:

Ich habe ein bisschen rumgefragt. Sagt dir den Begriff asexuell was?

[melancholymetropolis]

“Lord have mercy,” the plump woman clenched the couch cushion tighter. “Logan. . . Please. . .”

Seated on the floor between her separated thighs and bunched up sundress was a man pulling her panties to the side. The wolverine’s hot mouth fanned the moist folds of her glistening cunt causing the woman to shiver. His deep brown eyes flickered up to hers, a question in his gaze. The woman took her bottom lip between her teeth and gave the older gentleman a slow nod. Every rational thought had drifted away the moment Logan captured her lips in a heated kiss.

To think it all started with a pyrex dish filled with homemade lasagna.

As a woman born and raised in North Carolina, Y/N L/N knew a thing or two about Southern Hospitality. She has distinct memories of her mom baking muffins for the new families in the neighborhood and offering juice boxes to any child playing in the sweltering heat. She was early for every council meeting, funeral and church picnic there was. 

Y/N's mama was the kind to spread love everywhere she went and managed to wear down even the grumpiest assholes there ever were.

Sadly, Y/N didn't have that gift.

At least she thought she didn't.

Logan Howlet was the grumpiest man she'd ever met. He didn't speak to anyone, always kept his head down and pretended not to hear the crappy things people said about him. He frequented the liquor stor as if it were a second job, but never smelled like liquor somehow. 

He had all but slammed the door in Y/N’s face when she offered him the glass dish. The younger woman thanked the heavens his roommate, Wade, swooped in to rescue the tilting dish from crashing on the patio floor.

The man's dripping tongue slid from her oozing center to her aching bud. The plump woman groaned loudly from the action and leaned further onto the arm of the couch. With one leg thrown over his shoulder and the other attempting to keep her balance, Y/N realized how obscure the position— fuck it through whole situation was.

One minute she was at the door, dropping off Wade's monthly pan of lasagna and the next Logan was pushing her against the kitchen counters, kissing her silly. He didn't bother ripping her dress off completely. Just broke a few buttons to gain access to her heavy breasts. One of his hands was gently squeezing the mound as his tongue tapped at her bud. 

The soft muscle swirled around her clit before the lips latched onto it. The older man sucked on the bud tenderly, whilst gripping her thigh so tightly she was sure it would leave bruises the next day. The sounds coming from her lips didn't feel light her own as the ripples of pleasure moved along her nerves like dancers. The plump woman took her bottom lip between her teeth as she watched his move against her womanhood. The salt and pepper hair atop his head nestled between her brown skin was something out of a dream. The sounds of his throaty groans as his sucked her cunt had turned her brain to goo and somehow made her even wetter.

"Take them off," Y/N said, suddenly. "My panties. They're getting in the way."

"Yes, Ma'am! Although, that will be a little hard to do considering Wolfy's posi--- oh shit! You absolutely weren't talking to me like at all," an annoying familiar voice sounds causing us to freeze in place. "But, I wish you would start to because I am about to bust just----"

"Either get the fuck out or come over here and put that mouth to use," Logan snapped, rising to his feet and staring pointedly at Wade. "Because I do not have the time for your bullshit today."

"I'll take option numero dos, Alex," the taller gentleman practically skipped to the couch. "If it is okay with the lady?"

"I'm. . . uh. . . I'm fine with it?"

-------------------------

this scene has been stuck in my head since I seen the film last weekend.

fun fact: I used to be a MASSIVE Marvel fan before the pandemic and secretly wrote Steve Rogers fics.

if you want a full piece, comment or send an ask.

Been thinking of writing some throuple stories. Thoughts?

[sungbeam]

nonidol!jeong yunho x f!reader

yunho might have been the superstar out of the two of you, but you have always been the center of his universe. (you — it's always been you.)

▷ genre, warnings. bffs2l, childhood friends 2 lovers, pining, popstar/singer au, swearing, fluff, humor, angst, hurt/comfort, kissing, mentions of alcohol, mentions of anxiety/nervousness, they physically cannot be apart for too long sorry they've got Attachment Issues low-key..., one kiss (is all it takes—)

▷ word count. 16.3k (guys,, this was supposed to be only like 6-8k i swear 😭)

▷ associated tunes. keep smiling (demxntia), gone too long (lullaboy), tear in my heart (twenty-one pilots)

a/n: hope u guys like this :'))) i had one of the scenes from here stuck in my brain for awhile and so i had to build the rest of the fic around it, and it turned into this monster, so uhm yes... also much love to @jaehunnyy tysm for reading thru it for me 💖

THE DAY YUNHO'S ALBUM hit the Billboard Hot 100, you knew that you were going to need a lot more hands on deck than just you, your roommate, and Jeong Yunho himself.

“There's not enough albums, not enough time in the day, not enough of you!” You exclaimed with your fingers shoved into your hair as you took in the landscape of chaos before you on your living room floor. “Yunho, why couldn't you be ambidextrous?”

His eyes widened, body frozen where he was shoving a slice of beef jerky into his mouth. “Mwe? Pwhy are pyu yellinh ap mwe por?”

“I'm not yelling at you; I'm just wondering why you weren't born with eight arms instead of just two.” There were simply too many albums for him to sign before his agent came to pick them up in two hours, and there were also too few albums for the amount of demand. You always knew your best friend would make it big one day, but you also thought he would have had a whole team by that time.

Technically, you were his team—you, your roommate Trinity, and Mingi who was at his grandmother's for the long weekend. Mingi was five texts away from driving back down to help you guys four hours ago though. But his family needed him right now, and Yunho was firm in ensuring Mingi didn't have to come down and help. We got this, he'd said. It'll be easy, he also said.

Sure. Easy.

“We can't just forge his signature?” Trinity joked in a sleep-deprived daze as she leaned back against the couch cushions. Her mouth opened wide in a yawn. “I'm kidding. Let's not ruin his career.”

Yunho swallowed his bite. “That would be nice.” He cleaned his fingers on the Wet Wipe he had handy by his thigh, then picked up his black Sharpie, spinning the writing utensil between his fingers. “Now where were we? Album number fifty-six—?”

This had taken place just four months after Yunho released his second album, Aurora. It had been nearly a year and a half since Yunho debuted himself onto the music scene, and it was about time people finally began to recognize your best friend for all that he was—multi-talented, charismatic, handsome (on some occasions; you wouldn’t let him catch you slipping up there, though).

Within the next year and a half, Yunho skyrocketed into further altitudes of fame.

There were plenty of changes that occurred, many evolutions to Yunho's team and additions to his discography, but you were always a part of it. Even with your own career dealings, you would drop anything to be there for him, and him for you. Between the morning show interviews and late night recording sessions, there were also the research presentations and study session pick-me-ups.

“Are you sure you don't wanna come with?” You asked from where you were stationed in front of the bathroom mirror, putting on the final touches for your look this evening.

You could hear Trinity's fingers clacking away at her keyboard at the speed of light through her open bedroom door. “I'd love to, but I unfortunately did screw myself over by procrastinating on this paper. Have fun though, and tell Yunho congrats for me.”

Tonight was the album release party for Yunho's third full studio album entitled Youth. It was something he had been working on for years now, only recently having become satisfied with the tracks he chose and produced for it. Due to his sudden rise in fame, the release party was said to be hosting a myriad of big name celebrities and figures in the music industry. And of course, you. You were no one special, in hindsight, but Yunho couldn't begin to imagine celebrating a milestone without you by his side.

By eight o'clock, you were ready to head out.

You bid Trinity goodbye as you hustled out the front door of your apartment and down to the street below. Yunho and Mingi and everyone else would already be at the party; you would arrive on your own via Uber. You wished you could've been with him to get ready like all the other times, but your schedule had been unfortunate as of late. You were lucky enough to have gotten off of work this early.

As you sat in the backseat of your ride, you anxiously fidgeted with your phone in your lap.

(You were, without a doubt, excited to arrive at the party. Due to yours and Yunho's ever-busy and ever-conflicting schedules nowadays—yours because of work and PhD candidacy stuff, Yunho's because of rehearsals for his upcoming world tour—it had been awhile since you were able to hang out in person. You missed your gentle giant of a best friend.)

A loud vibration from it made your heart leap into your throat, and your face lit up in the dark with the incoming notification.

rockstar 🤟: pls tell me you've left the house

You snorted and typed out a swift reply. If I told you I was still in my pajamas…

rockstar 🤟: then i would call u a liar cuz u don't go to work in pjs, weirdo rockstar 🤟: just getting antsy tbh rockstar 🤟: need my star here w me :’)))

You couldn't help the touched pout that came to your face. I'm almost there, don't worry. And who are you calling a star when that's you? He always got a little sappy when he was nervous.

rockstar 🤟: im literally not having fun here without u hurry up :// your phone: isn't this UR album release party 😭 yun, why aren't u having fun? rockstar 🤟: just hurry up your phone: aish okok 🤧 eta 8min mr. impatient

You knew it was the jitters making him say things like that. Once you got there, you hoped you could help reassure him that he could stop worrying for just a second to enjoy himself. Even if Yunho worried about the album and what people thought, you were just as nervous. You hadn't even heard the entire thing—he’d been cheeky and didn't tell you he added a song to it last minute, but you'd listened to everything else.

You just hoped that people would continue to celebrate him and give him the love he deserved.

When your Uber driver pulled into the drop off loop at the front of the venue, you thanked him on your way out and threw the strap of your small purse over your shoulder. Already, however, as you were met with the residuals of flashing camera lenses and frantic paparazzi calls just a little ways down the driveway, the anxiety slowly began to settle in the pit of your stomach.

You could see the celebrities going up the entrance with people asking them to pose for their cameras, to say a word into their recorders.

Immediately, you turned on your heel and began slipping your way to a side entrance. The last thing you wanted was for dozens upon dozens of people to be staring at you, wondering who you were and why you were important. There were definitely people who knew you—you were plastered all over Yunho's social media because that was just what best friends did. But compared to everyone else walking up that driveway? Not a chance. You were nobody, and that was ay-okay to you.

Just as you thanked one of the employees coming out the side door for letting you in, you felt your phone buzz in your hand again, this time with an incoming call.

You picked it up and squeezed it between your ear and shoulder. “You're gonna need to speak up—the kitchen is super loud.”

“You're here finally!” Yunho said to you through the phone. “I was starting to get worried.”

You chuckled as you ducked out of the kitchen and into the main lobby to get to the elevators. The party was taking place somewhere on the seventh floor… if you could get there without getting lost. “Hey Yun, do me a favor?”

“Sure.”

“Calm down, man.”

The elevator sang its arrival and you stepped inside to the sound of Yunho sucking in a deep breath, then exhaling slowly. “I am calm… wait, are you in the lobby? Let me come down and get y—”

“I just got in the elevator, so don't worry—and I really don't think you should be leaving your own party, rockstar,” you teased. “Man, Mingi and Hwa really pulled out all the stops for this place,” you marveled quietly as you gave the elevator carriage a thorough look. It was made of marble and mirrors, every surface polished and crisp, like that of a tailored suit if tailored suits were made of crystals.

“Yeah, it's really great,” he agreed. “Remember the release party we threw for Crescent?”

A fond laugh tumbled out of your lips as you stepped out of the elevator and onto the seventh floor. Your mind filled with memories of his debut album's release party hosted in yours and Trinity's living room with three extra large Domino's pizzas, root beer floats, and a cheap disco ball. It had been a party for four that night—you, Yunho, Mingi, and Trinity—but your friends didn't need the fancy shit to have fun. “Definitely leagues away from this.”

There was a bouncer at the far end of the hallway, and you were certain now that you were in the right place.

“I kind of miss it,” Yunho murmured. You heard the sound on his end shift, simultaneous to watching the doors in front of you crack open and see Yunho's head pop out into the empty hallway.

“I kind of miss it, too,” you said into the phone, your eyes locked on his and a smile blooming over your features at the sight of your best friend, in the flesh.

There was a tender gleam in his eyes as he took you in and said something in a low tone to the bouncer. He stepped out into the hallway, letting the doors behind him shut fully.

“Slowpoke,” was his greeting to you as he scooped you into his embrace. The smell of his cologne was something familiar and delicious, and permeated your senses.

“Worrywart,” you quipped back, wrapping your arms around him to reciprocate.

When you both pulled back, he kept you at arm's length so he could take a better look at you. “I can't believe you're calling me the worrywart! I do recall that one night when Aurora hit the Top 100—”

You silenced him with a look and a playful punch to his shoulder. You pressed your lips together to suppress a smile as he tilted his head back in a jovial laugh. “Quiet, you. For once, I can't believe you're more nervous than I am.”

He gave a sheepish grin, fussing with the unbuttoned collar of his dress shirt, adjusting the chain he wore on his collarbones so the clasp sat right at the hollow of his throat.

You softened. Oh, he was really nervous.

“This album's just big for me; you know that,” he said, almost like he was trying to brush it off.

“I do.” The two of you began slowly making your way back towards the party doors. “Though, I'm excited to hear this mystery song that you snuck on there. I'm sure everyone will fall in love with the album, just like I did.”

He peered over at you then, and you couldn't understand why you were unable to read his expression then. It was… different. “Really?”

You blinked. “Of course,” you replied automatically. “I mean,” you added, “it's you, Yun. What's not to love?”

Yunho seemed speechless for a second, but moments later, he was breaking into a soft-cornered smile. “You always know what to say, Yn. Come on, there are some people who are dying to meet you.”

“Dying to meet me?” You laughed as the bouncer let the two of you into the party.

The party room was a rented out lounge space with wraparound windows that looked out at the skyline in the valley below. The main lights were kept low and warm, illuminating strategic places throughout the space to highlight the prohibition-like interior design. It was something out of a 1920s speakeasy with its velvet couches and dark mahogany wood finishes.

Yunho took you over toward the side of the room to get food first. There was a variety of snacks and small bites on the buffet table, and there was a bar counter shoved into the far corner where a bartender served drinks.

“I've pretty much socialized with everyone in this room already,” Yunho murmured to you as he shoved his hands into his pockets and grinned. “Meaning I can bug you for the rest of the night.”

Your eyebrows shot up. “There has to be, like, fifty people here. We still have the whole party left.”

“Yeah, but I have more fun with you anyway,” he said with a shrug. He reached for one of the little serving cups that held a little roll of rice armed with a slice of wagyu beef on top, all wrapped together with a strip of nori. “Now these—these are fucking amazing, dude. You have to try one.”

You snorted, but grabbed one of the little cups. “How many of these have you eaten already, Yun?”

He tapped his cup against yours like he was clinking glasses together. He chuckled, averting his gaze. “We don't have to talk about that…” His eyes caught onto someone nearby, and he perked up, shoving the entire bite into his mouth so he had a free hand to flag down whoever it was. “Mmh!”

You nearly choked on your own bite as you watched your best friend, who's cheeks were stuffed like a chipmunk's, flap his arm around in the air to get this person's attention because his mouth was currently occupied.

You turned your head to see who he was waving over, and nearly choked again, having to cup your hand over your mouth to prevent rice from falling out. Your eyes widened an alarming amount. “Mmno—!” You mumbled through your bite.

“What? I can't hear you,” he snickered. “Hongjoong hyung! There's someone I want you to meet.”

You made a crazed gesture—no, no, I'm not ready! How dare you ambush me with social interac—you swallowed the food in your mouth as Hongjoong made his way over. You had never met the famed Kim Hongjoong—legendary producer, prodigy musician, favorite model to ever strut down the Paris Fashion Week Runway. He dropped off the grid for a brief three-month hiatus until he suddenly reappeared, but in your best friend's Instagram story. At some point, Yunho had met Hongjoong and won his favor. Then again, it was easy for Yunho to win over anyone's favor.

No one really knew why Hongjoong disappeared like he had, but some speculate it had something to do with his new relationship status: single.

You were always starstruck seeing Hongjoong on Yunho and Mingi's social media, as well as Hongjoong's own platforms. Tonight was no exception.

Hongjoong's hair of the season was a simple light brown that complimented his skin tone and the warmth in his smile. You were used to seeing him in more extravagant garb, but tonight, he chose something very simple, but chic like Yunho.

Yunho and Hongjoong clasped hands in greeting. “What's up, man?” The latter chirped, eyes flickering over to you as you attempted to behave normally.

Yunho gestured toward you, his eyes twinkling as he swept his arm around your shoulders to bring you forward. “This is Yn. Yn, this is Hongjoong. He's the one who produced the album—”

“Now, don't downplay your own efforts, Yunho,” Hongjoong cut in with a knowing look. “You produced so much of it on your own; I fine-tuned and made a couple tracks, but the rest was all you, man.”

“I always tell him he's far too humble,” you agreed.

Hongjoong sent you a smile, extending his hand out. “Great minds think alike, Yn. It's very nice to meet the person this guy doesn't ever stop talking about.”

You laughed good-naturedly and saw Yunho's flushed sheepishness out of the corner of your eye. You shook Hongjoong's hand with a firm, confident grip. “Nice to meet you, too. You're—you’re incredible, by the way. I remember when Yunho posted a photo with you, and I literally screamed his ear off over the phone.”

Yunho winced and held a hand up to his ear, as if remembering the physical sensation of that phone call. “Yup, definitely damaged my eardrum that day.”

“Well, thank you; I'm flattered,” Hongjoong replied pleasantly. “So I'm assuming you've probably heard as much of the album as I have then?”

“I'm sure you've heard the whole thing,” you said. “Yunho has withheld one of the tracks from me, but I've listened to all the rest.”

He cocked his head to the side. “Oh? Which track did—oh.” As he and Yunho made eye contact, you watched as a silent understanding passed between them, and Hongjoong's mouth tugged upward in a teasing smile. “That song.”

You blinked. “What does that mean?”

Hongjoong flourished his hand as if to wave away the thought. “He just wanted it to be perfect, so we were working on it up to the last second. Nothing terribly concerning.”

Ah. You relaxed, but the curiosity still lingered in your mind's eye. “I'm sure it's great, nonetheless.”

“Oh yeah, you're gonna love—”

“Oh-kay! That's enough about the song,” Yunho chuckled nervously as he grabbed your shoulders and began steering you away from a clearly amused Hongjoong. “Let's go say hi to Mingi, hm?”

You threw him a look from over your shoulder, but went along with him toward wherever he'd seen Mingi wandering around. “What has gotten into you tonight?” You teased, though, you also hoped to know why he was so jittery. He wasn't even this nervous about dropping his debut album.

Yunho showed you a bright smile, the same kind of golden-retriever expression that the media knew him well for. It would have been enough if you didn't know him. “Again, it's an important album to me. And the song I added last minute is on the deluxe version, so I wasn't really confident in putting it on the original release.”

“Ah,” you murmured. You reached up to pat the hand that rested on your left shoulder reassuringly. “I'm sure it really is a great song, Yun, and I'm not just saying that. You can make an awful omelet, but you can't make an awful song.”

Your best friend bursted into laughter at the latter comment, and your heart soared to see the genuine smile on his face now. That was your Yunho shining through. “You're right—if I can't scramble eggs, at least I can write a song.”

Over the next hour and a half, Yunho took you on a tour around the room, jumping from friend to friend to introduce you to more of his world. For the most part, however, it felt like an excuse for you to bond with all his friends in teasing him about something or other. But he seemed content enough to see you getting along well with the other people close to him.

He had met plenty of your friends at your work, so it was only fair that you got the same opportunity.

At some point while you were with Wooyoung and San discussing all of the rehearsals for Yunho's upcoming world tour, Hongjoong summoned everyone's attention to announce that it was time to listen to the album. It would be a rather casual affair with the Youth album playing in the background of the party, but you were certain people would minimize their conversations to listen in.

You craned your neck to peer around the crowd to see where Yunho had gone off to. “Wait, guys, did you see where Yunho went?”

Wooyoung and San joined your search, but quickly hustled you into a nearby booth to sit and enjoy the album with your drinks. “He'll find us,” Wooyoung assured you as the three of you slipped into the leather seats. “He wouldn't miss this.”

“He'll at least be here by the last song,” San said offhandedly, his eyebrows wagging up and down.

Your lips parted, your face morphing into feigned offense. “Wait. Did he let you guys listen to the deluxe edition song, too?”

“Maybe,” Wooyoung giggled.

San cooed at your pout. “Awwh, don't take it to heart, Yn-ie. It was supposed to be a surprise for you.”

You raised your drink to your lips, sighing before taking a sip. “Everybody talks about this damn song as if he wrote it for me.”

Unbeknownst to you, the two others at the table exchanged pointed looks between one another when you were looking away. It was a wonder how Yunho was able to keep this all a secret from you. Though, even San and Wooyoung knew how busy you could get nowadays, so perhaps it really was just that easy. Plus, they had all at one point or another been privy to Yunho’s feelings—

“Speak of the Devil,” you perked up at the sight of your best friend emerging from the crowd with the others—Hongjoong, Seonghwa, Mingi, Jongho (vocal coach and album feature), and Yeosang (PR management)—in tow behind him. “We were wondering where you had gone off to.”

Yunho grinned as the lot of them squished into the circular seating arrangement with you, San, and Wooyoung. “Sorry, had to go round everyone up. The album should be queued up and ready to go.” He chose to sit on the end of the booth to your right while everyone else filled it up from the other side.

You offered him a sip of your drink, and he gladly took the glass from you. “So San and Woo were just telling me about how their tour prep is coming. You guys are leaving—what was it—two weeks from now?”

He hummed, smacking his lips as he set the glass back down on the table. “Yeah, it should be just about two weeks,” he said. His arm came up to rest against the back of the booth seat behind you. “You know, you can still come to the first stop with us…” This was said with a very pointed look at you from Yunho, followed by similar expressions from everyone else around the table.

“And you know that day’s when my supervisor holds quarterly meetings that are mandatory,” you shot back. As much as you hated the timing, the day that Yunho and the team planned to fly to their first stop on his world tour, you were required to be present for a very important meeting at work.

The Youth World Tour was something Yunho had been looking forward to and preparing for a long time. Besides working on the Youth album itself, his working hours extended over the past year or so to get ready for this major milestone. You would definitely be able to meet up with them at one of the tour stops, you just weren’t sure which one yet.

Things at your workplace were a little rocky as of late due to shifting management, but you would play it by ear. For your best friend, of course you would make it work somehow.

Your ears pricked up at the sound of strings strumming overhead and your heart leapt out of your ribcage for a moment. “Oh my god, I love this song.”

“You and me both, Yn,” Hongjoong chuckled across the table from you, reaching over so you could bump fists with him, “you’ve got good taste.”

“You’re only saying that because you wrote this one specifically,” Yunho sputtered out a laugh while rolling his eyes.

“It’s a good message,” you said, picking up your drink to take a generous gulp of it. There was a little left at the bottom of the martini glass and you swirled the liquid around before handing it over to Yunho to finish. “I think this one will definitely make it onto my work playlist.”

Yunho draped the back of his hand over his forehead, setting the now empty glass on the table. “Wow, relegated to the work playlist. Is that all I am to you?”

“You are a mood maker,” you pointed out with a teasing smile.

“Bro, you're complaining as if Yn doesn't put her work playlist on for everything she does.” Mingi arched his brows over the rims of his sunglasses. (Why was he wearing sunglasses indoors and at night? You didn't know; he said something about looking cool.)

Wooyoung chuckled. “What? So let's say you're trying to sleep—”

“Yah, I have a different playlist for that! I'm not completely unreasonable.”

“Completely,” Yunho and Mingi said at the same time, then looked at each other with wide, excited eyes. They bursted out laughing at once, too, leaving you to deadpan at the two clowns to your eleven o'clock and three o'clock.

You sighed. “I hate you guys.”

That only made them laugh louder, spurring on the others to crack smiles and for you to do the same.

Yunho calmed slightly, his cheeks hurting from smiling. “Aw, you walked right into that one, Yn.”

“So you're saying you are, in some capacity, unreasonable—oh my god, don't hurt me!” Mingi shrieked as he shoved Yeosang's body in front of him like a human shield as you lurched forward and threatened to grab him.

Yeosang sent Mingi a dirty look as he wrestled out of his neighbor's hold. “Dude.”

“Jongho, protect me.”

The vocal coach popped the olive from his martini into his mouth. “If you can't handle the heat, hyung, stay out of the kitchen.”

You nodded, raising your pointer finger up. “Exactly.”

For the next hour, you and your friends shared good company and conversation, while also commenting on, praising, and enjoying the tunes from Yunho's Youth album. There were a good thirteen songs featured on the album, and while most of them were inspired by real life, you remembered the days and nights when Yunho would break out the white board under his bed to draw out a concept map of the storyline he'd created in his head for some songs. It was like a miniature Easter egg hunt for fans to piece together from album to album.

When the clock hit nearly midnight, you recognized the song that marked the end of the conventional album—track number thirteen, 22. It was a song that reflected and lamented on his early stages of adulthood, all the goods and bads, all the hopes and dreams he had left. It was something that tied the regular album with a satisfying bow, but you were also giddy to hear the secret fourteenth deluxe track.

But as his ethereal voice from 22 faded out, the same guitar chords from the first song of the album began to play.

Everyone at the table paused in confusion.

“Uhh, I thought you were revealing the hidden track tonight, Yunho?” Seonghwa asked from across the table.

Yunho tilted his body out of the booth to peer into the sound booth at the very back of the lounge, a furrow in his brow. “I thought I was, too,” he said as he stood up. “I’ll be back in a sec.”

Before anyone else could say anything, Yunho disappeared past the door to the sound booth. You frowned as Hongjoong excused himself to catch up with him, mumbling something about helping with any technical difficulties.

In retrospect, it wouldn't be the biggest deal if you didn't get to hear the song tonight. You would simply listen to it when the deluxe album dropped in about a week, but you wouldn't deny that you were a little disappointed. Everyone else at this table had already listened to it—why had Yunho not shared it with you yet? Did he think you would judge him or not like it? You didn't think you were ever so harsh a critic, but that would explain why he was so nervous all night.

Regardless, you remained positive.

When Yunho and Hongjoong returned to the table, the rest of you all looked on to them expectantly.

“Something wacky is going on with the system right now and won't play the file for the hidden track,” Hongjoong huffed. He passed Yunho a sidelong glance, and you saw how Yunho avoided his friend's eyes like the plague. “Sorry to disappoint, Yn.”

Everyone's attention whipped toward you, and you straightened like a deer caught in headlights. “Oh, uhm, it's no biggie,” you said. You glanced over at Yunho who, if anything, seemed guilty. Or maybe it was just something apologetic. “Really—I can wait for it to drop officially.”

You didn't like how the air seemed to shift during this exchange, as if all the other boys were sitting on the edges of their seats, faces morphed into mixed ranges of confusion and disbelief.

You cleared your throat. “Anyone want more drinks?”

As the night waned and the party came to a close, you found yourself being helped into another Uber car to head home. After the supposed tech glitch, the remainder of the party passed by without a hitch. At the very end, Yunho popped open a theatrical bottle of champagne for all his guests to close out the celebration.

The backseat door closed just as Yunho ducked in with you, his hand waving out the window to San, Wooyoung, and Jongho passing by along the curb.

The alcohol had gradually made its way to your brain, and there was a light buzzing at the base of your skull that made you feel all warm and fuzzy. You yawned, leaning your head against Yunho's shoulder.

He chuckled, one of his hands coming up to gently pat your head. “Tired?”

“Mhm,” you hummed as your eyelids fluttered closed. “You didn't have to lie, y'know.”

You felt his shoulder tense under your cheek. If only you could feel the rapid beating in his chest, then he'd be as good as done.

“I don't know what you're talking about,” he replied innocently, nimble fingers running over the chain links of his wristwatch.

Your eyes cracked open slowly. “Yunho.”

A beat passed, then he sighed. “Are you mad?” He asked quietly and his hand nearest to you found yours as he began to mindlessly inspect the chipped nail polish on your fingertips.

“No, silly. Why would I be mad?” When he didn't respond right away, you let out an exhale of your own. “I mean, I could tell you were nervous about me listening to the song all night. And if you weren't ready for me to listen to it yet, then I totally get that, and I'm okay with waiting. I just would rather you tell me that instead of make Hongjoong lie for you.”

He stopped playing with your fingers. “I'm sorry, for the record. Thank you for understanding.”

You hummed in reply.

The drive continued on with the accompaniment of a random radio station playing on low volume. You weren't going to fall asleep just yet with the alcohol still working its way through your system, but you kept your eyes closed nonetheless.

“I missed you, you know?” Were his first words to break the next silence.

A small smile wormed its way onto your face. “I missed you, too. I feel like we haven't seen each other in forever.”

He chuckled, the low sound rumbling through his chest and into your ear. “Texting can only take us so far. Isn't that crazy? We can't even survive a week without hanging out, but we're… we're about to be separated for so much longer timewise and distance-wise.”

You grumbled. “Don't remind me—wait. Has it really only been a week?” You peeked one eye open, a frown coming to your lips. “No way.”

Yunho smiled, shaking his head. “Believe it or not, stargirl. It's been only a week.”

“In-fucking-sane.”

“You're telling me.”

“How are we going to survive?” You pondered aloud, genuinely. If you couldn't fly out to see him within the first handful of tour stops, you and Yunho at the soonest wouldn't be able to see each other for three weeks. And if you couldn't escape your work duties and your PhD responsibilities, then it would be longer than that. “You're gonna have a closer relationship with your Valorant account than me.”

Yunho snorted. “I already have a closer relationship with my Valorant account than you.”

“Shucks.” You breathed out. “Guess I'll just text Hongjoong then. You know what he told me tonight when we were exchanging numbers? All eight of you nerds have a group chat and he gets ignored like a mom in a family chatroom.”

Your comment made a laugh tumble out of Yunho's mouth. “Did he make that analogy?”

“No, Seonghwa did when he overheard.”

A wheeze. “That tracks.” Yunho licked his lips as he turned his head slightly to glance down at you leaning on his shoulder. With his free hand, he warmed his palm over your head like he could keep you here forever. “So what's this about texting Joong?”

You shifted your position to get more comfortable and clung to his arm to press yourself closer. There was still a little ways to go before you reached your apartment. “I told him offhandedly that I wanna pick up a new hobby… something about crocheting or something, and apparently that guy is like… amazing at everything, so he's gonna help me out.”

“Ah.” The sound was quiet. “I'm glad you guys got along.”

You smiled to yourself. “Me too. He's really cool.”

“Not cooler than me though, right?”

You blindly reached over to pat his chest in warm reassurance. “Don't worry, big guy. I guess you're still the coolest guy I know.”

He clicked his tongue at you with a weak chiding, “Yah. You only guess? Don't tell Mingi that.”

“Oh, I wouldn't dream of it.”

The Uber eventually pulled up along the curb outside your apartment complex. You lifted your head up from Yunho's shoulder and woke yourself up with a good stretch of your limbs.

He helped you out of the car, handing you your purse when you finally got your bearings. “Are you sure I can't walk you up? You look like your knees are about to buckle,” he chuckled.

You shook your head. The cool evening air was helping your brain to sober up. “No, no. Don't worry about it—I’m not as drunk as that one year.”

“Dear heart, how could I forget,” he teased. “Mingi still has the recording of when you begged to be bridal carried.”

Your face warmed at his mention of that memory and you wrinkled your nose at him. “I was gonna say ‘I love you’ along with goodnight, but I suppose not.”

Yunho froze. “What?”

Maybe you really weren't sobering up, because you didn't catch his strange reaction. “Nevermind,” you said flippantly. “Love you, Yun. Good night. Get home safe!”

He seemed to unfreeze, his lungs filling with breath again. A soft smile melted onto his pretty lips as he looked on toward you with a warm fondness. “Love you, too. Good night, Yn.”

He remained where he was outside the car door as he watched you dig your keys out from your purse and open the complex door. When you had one foot inside, you stopped, and turned back to him with a big grin on your face. “Hey!”

“Hey?” He laughed.

“I'm proud of you.”

For the thousandth time tonight, you made him lose his breath, his hold on reality. He swallowed—he wanted to kiss you. “I love you. Get some rest, stargirl.”

You waved to him in reply and he waved back. Then you disappeared through the door and left him there, his heart full and beating fast, the longing in his chest weighing heavier than before.

When you and Yunho were thirteen, you spent the longest period of time away from each other for the rest of your lives. It measured to about one summer break long when Yunho flew to South Korea to spend the entire vacation there and you could do nothing but chat with him via good, old fashioned e-mail.

Now that the two of you were older, even a couple days dragged on like an eternity. And because of your clashing and stacked schedules, a couple days almost always bled into a week.

A week since the release of Youth marked the inevitable release of its deluxe edition and the ever mysterious fourteenth track.

“Yn, wait, can you just help me finish this set of primers?”

You were this close to escaping the lab before one of your colleagues caught you. Taking a deep breath, you resolved to turn back and help them out. One less thing to worry about later, right? You could still listen to the track once you got home.

Except you couldn't, at least not right away. You saw the email on the bus ride home:

Hello TAs! One of your peers has unfortunately been involved in a motorbike accident early this evening. We have been informed that they will recover to full health, but because they are hospitalized, we will need to redistribute responsibilities regarding grades and as to who will cover their TA sections…

You skimmed down the email's contents, knowing you wouldn't be the one filling in as an actual TA. Because you were a first year graduate student in your first quarter, you opted to start off with grading work for now. But even if you didn't have to deal with a whole section of undergraduates, you could feel the blood drain from your face.

“You've gotta be shitting me,” you said, then slapped your hand over your mouth once you realized you'd said that aloud. You mouthed a sheepish “sorry” to a parent and her child nearby, then ducked your head to look at the contents once more.

There was no way they wanted—no, needed—all of those graded by tonight.

This was cruel and unusual punishment, but you knew you were going to do it anyway.

By the time you finished grading, shoveled dinner into your mouth, and took a therapeutically scalding hot shower, it was sometime past two in the morning. Thank fuck it was Saturday.

It was less than twelve hours later that you settled into the passenger seat of Yunho's Lexus sedan with a pair of shades covering your dehydrated, puffy eyes from the world and whatever paparazzi was stalking his car. Yunho glanced over at you with barely concealed amusement. “Well, good morning, princess.”

“You can't see it but I'm glaring at you,” you grunted as you strapped yourself in with the seatbelt. “I can't believe you wake up before noon now.”

“Unfortunately,” he chuckled, peeling his car away from the curb. After an unsatisfactory six hours of sleep, Yunho had woken you up with the obnoxiously loud sound of your phone ringing. You managed to negotiate for him to pick you up in two hours rather than half an hour—and now here you were. You never truly considered yourself a breakfast person and you would have happily slept all the way to lunch, but even through the exhaustion, you wanted to see him as much as he wanted to see you.

He would be gone by the end of the week, after all.

You leaned your head back against the headrest. “I used to have to lure you out of bed with the smell of bacon. Remember when you ate that entire plate of raw-ass bacon and pancake batter that Mingi made?”

Yunho let out a loud laugh that made you smile. He glanced over at you. “Bro,” he sighed, shaking his head, “you know I'll eat anything. Oh my gosh, I will never forget the horrified look on your face when you came out of the bathroom and found out what happened.”

“You looked like a kicked puppy when I told you that you shouldn't have eaten raw bacon,” you snorted. You'd felt so awful that Yunho was such a good eater who didn't complain; he didn't have any negative side effects afterward, thankfully, but you swore to never let Mingi in the kitchen or to let Mingi feed Yunho ever again, so long as you lived.

There was a café a few minutes drive from your apartment complex that the two of you liked to go to. It was a little hole in the wall, located on the second floor above a pet shelter, and the entrance could only be accessed through the stairs in the next-door alleyway.

Yunho adjusted the beanie over his bangs and you shifted your sunglasses up to the top of your head as you entered the establishment. There were a few people seated in the area to the right, but something you liked about this place was its hidden gem quality. (And the drinks and food they served, of course.)

“Hi, welcome in!” The barista behind the counter called before ducking behind the espresso machine. “Give me two seconds, and I'll be right with you.”

“No worries, take your time,” Yunho chirped back as he scoured the menu, eyes squinting and tongue darting out to wet his lips.

You had a general idea of what you wanted already, and you let Yunho know what it was before slipping off into the restroom.

By the time you emerged from the back hallway where the washrooms were, Yunho had finished ordering and was standing by one of the open two-seater tables by the far window with the soft autumn sunlight painting over his features. For a second, you stood at the opening of the hallway, just admiring him. Perhaps it was the lack of sleep making you envision the sunlight dancing around him as he sat down in one of the seats.

Heat rushed up your neck as your eyes met across the café. Gazes locked, you stood frozen, but a smile bloomed on your best friend's face like the coming of spring. It was the most beautiful thing you'd ever seen.

And then he made a face, cocking his head to the side like a puppy with a question. 'Why are you just standing there?’ He seemed to ask.

You shook yourself out of whatever strange daze you'd slipped into, then walked over to join him.

“You okay?” He asked as you took the seat across from him, a teasing lilt to his voice, yet there was still concern in the curve of his mouth.

You waved said concern away. “Yeah. I think I'm still waking up or something.”

“Ah,” he nodded in understanding. He frowned. “What time did you go to sleep last night?”

“Like… some time past two.” On cue, you let out a large yawn, lifting your sleeve up to cover your mouth. “It's okay. I'll just sleep early tonight or something. One of the other TAs got into an accident, so we just had to do some make-up work and I just happened to get home late as it was.”

You could already see the guilt manifest on his face for waking you up, and you were swift to add, “I'll be fine with food and coffee, so 's alright. What about you? How'd you sleep last night?”

“I slept decently,” he replied, leaning forward to rest his cheek against his fist. “I didn't end up dropping the deluxe album, so it was a little more restful than—”

Your brain took a second to catch up. The… the deluxe album… oh. Your eyes went from half-mast to wide open. “You—you didn't release the deluxe? Sorry, I was so busy yesterday that I didn't check my socials.”

“Don't worry about it,” he said with a sheepish smile. “But yeah, I told my manager that I still wasn't ready to release it to the public just yet. I don't know when I'll postpone it to, but it probably won't come out until while I'm on tour.”

Ah. There was that disappointment settling in the pit of your stomach again. This wasn't about you, but why did it seem like he was avoiding your eventual listening to this song? He was almost always sending you audio files without prompting, so what made this one different?

Nonetheless, it wasn't your song. You would respect Yunho's privacy if he wanted to keep this one to himself and his friends.

You unconsciously rubbed your arm. “Oh okay. Yeah, I mean—take your time, Yun. I'm glad you don't feel pressured to release it when you aren't ready.”

His expression softened to something tender that made your chest feel fuzzy. “You'll listen to it soon, I promise.”

The barista called out Yunho's order number, and your friend stood up to go retrieve it. You sighed as you fiddled with the sleeve of your shirt and peered over your shoulder as a pair of newcomers asked him for his autograph and a picture. You watched the pleasant smile spread on Yunho's face as he conversed with them as easy as breathing air, alongside the faint blush over his cheekbones.

No, you didn't know what had gotten into you this morning.

“No, no. You have to loop it through this piece here—yeah, there you go.”

You were so concentrated on following Hongjoong's directions that you didn't even register the sound of Yunho's front door opening and closing. Hongjoong clicked his tongue and scooted closer so he could direct your hands and the crochet hook himself.

“Uhm… hey?”

Both yours and Hongjoong's heads whipped up at the sound of Yunho's confusion. He stood at the entrance to the living room area where, scattered all around you and Hongjoong, were clothes, toiletries, and other essentials laid out for Yunho to throw into his bags.

Tonight marked the evening before Yunho and the team were to set off on the Youth World Tour. Tomorrow, they would fly out sometime in the afternoon, which meant that you would have time to send them off before heading to work and class. However, because you hadn't seen Yunho since this past Saturday when he dragged your ass out of bed for breakfast, you invited yourself over to his apartment to oversee his packing. Hongjoong just so happened to be swinging by Yunho's apartment and you asked if he was up for an impromptu crocheting lesson.

Hongjoong arrived some time while Yunho ran out to the Chinese place down the block to grab dinner, and the two of you had been hunched over the ball of yarn and hook ever since.

“Oh, you're back!” You exclaimed. In your distracted state, Hongjoong took the opportunity to take the crochet piece from you and subtly fix the mistakes you made.

Yunho's brows creased, eyes darting from you to Hongjoong as he slowly placed the takeout bags on the semi-cleared coffee table. “Yeah… Joong, when did you get here?”

You leaned forward to help clear off the rest of the coffee table and to also assist in unpacking all of the takeout containers. Yunho shucked the baseball cap he was wearing off to the side, carding a hand through his dark locks.

“Like… seven minutes ago,” he replied cheekily. His mouth curled into something mischievous as he locked eyes with Yunho. “I can leave, though, if you wanted to be alone—”

“Hyung—”

“I'm messing with you,” he snickered as he handed you the yarn and hook. “I only came by to drop off the emergency backup files hard drive and to give Yn-ie a sneak peek of her crocheting lessons to come.”

(Yunho's eyes narrowed a millimeter. Yn-ie?)

You set the unfinished crochet square down on the couch to walk Hongjoong to the door. “Are we still on for tomorrow, by the way?”

“What's tomorrow?” Yunho twisted around where he was seated on the floor to watch you and Hongjoong make your way to the front door.

“You,” said Hongjoong with raised eyebrows at your best friend, “are going on a plane with everyone else. Because I'm not leaving until the day after tomorrow, Yn and I are bonding over lunch after we see you all off.”

You and Hongjoong finished up finalizing plans in the doorway, followed by amiable farewells. Yunho called out a “good night” to his friend as Hongjoong slipped out the door, and left you and him to the apartment by yourselves.

You claimed the spot on the floor next to him and accepted the pair of wooden chopsticks he extended to you. “I'm sorry if I wasn't supposed to invite him in. I probably should've asked,” you said sheepishly as you snapped the chopsticks apart.

“Oh, no, he's been over quite a few times, so it's all good,” he replied swiftly. “I just didn't expect you two to be so close.” He added a laugh at the end that sounded more nervous to him than it was supposed to.

“We've been texting back and forth, but I guess so. Nothing like the two of you,” you jested, lifting your eyebrows up and bumping your elbow against his.

Yunho grinned. “What's that supposed to mean?”

“You guys spend all that time together in the studio—WHA—NO! Keep those hands to yourself!” You shrieked, rolling out of the way to dodge his hands that threatened to tickle you into submission. Yunho had thrown his head back in a carefree laugh, a beautiful expression in itself, that had you reciprocating.

When you were sure he wasn't going to attack you (affectionately), you scooted back over to your original spot next to him. He smiled to himself at the sidelong glance you casted him, and he went and grabbed one carton of rice for himself and the other for you.

“Thank you for dinner, by the way,” you told him as you opened up your carton, his somehow already opened and spilling over with food.

You once again caught him with his mouth full, and Yunho swallowed the bite of food he had before replying. “Yeah, man. Of course.”

“I swear that I will definitely get the next meal we have—”

“Yn.” He touched the back of his hand against your arm to draw your attention to him. “You literally were the one to make sure I made it out of college alive, like, I can never thank you enough for how much you did for me then and continue to do for me now.”

You swallowed, suddenly blown back by the way he looked at you right now. “I did it because I care about you, Yun. It's not something I expect to be repaid for.”

“I know,” he said with a nod, lips pulled into a tender smile that made your stomach do flips. This was the look no one else got to see from him. Sure, he could fill stadiums of people who would see his big, bright grin that shone brighter than the sun, but… but this one, this smile, was yours. “That goes the same toward this meal, okay?”

Yunho notched his finger under your chin and tilted your head up slightly to meet his eyes. “Don't worry about it.”

You set your carton of rice and chopsticks on the table, he copied your movements, and you wrapped each other in your mutual embraces. The startling realization that you wouldn't see him for longer than a week from tomorrow onward rushed toward you like the coming of a tide to shore. Before you knew it, the water was up to your knees, and you—what were you going to do without him here?

“I miss you already,” you whispered.

You felt him squeeze you tighter, nose pressed against the side of your neck. “I won't be gone too long.” A promise.

“Thank god Seonghwa and Wooyoung can cook.” At the sound of his snort from above your head, you squawked out in your defense, “Who else is gonna make you bacon and pancakes in the morning when you’re dead tired?”

“Hey! I can fry bacon, I’ll have you know!”

You pulled away from him so he could see the look of pure disbelief on your face. “Okay, rockstar. I believe you.”

He scrunched his nose up at you. “That’s not very convincing.”

“I’m glad we’re on the same page.”

Yunho scoffed, reaching over to flick your nose. You let out a sound of indignation and rubbed your nose, a scowl on your face at Yunho’s very pleased expression. And even if you were currently conspiring on how to get back at him, you couldn’t help but resolve something right that second—you would do everything in your power to see his show in two weeks’ time—to see Yunho in two weeks’ time.

The thing about cheap plane tickets was that the cheaper you bought them, the less “amenities” that it came with. The one you’d purchased specifically for two weeks in the future did not allow you a refund. This meant that if something were to arise, you would be a good several hundred dollars poorer, and your plans to surprise Yunho at his show would fall completely through the floor.

Good thing you weren’t about to let that happen, right? …Right?

“You’re sick.” Those were your roommate Trinity’s first words to you as you stumbled out of your bedroom and found her perched on one of the stools at the kitchen counter. She fixed you with an unimpressed look as she stirred around her morning coffee.

“I’m not—” Your own response was cut off by one very untimely cough into your elbow. You wrinkled your nose at the metallic taste at the back of your throat. Great. “—sick.”

“And I’m Oprah,” she deadpanned.

“You could be.” Did you really sound as much like a dying walrus as you thought you did? Holy shit.

She stood up from her stool, setting her coffee cup on the counter, then walked over to you to direct you back into your room. “I’m not permitting you exit from this apartment until you're better. Back to bed with you.”

“But—”

“No buts! If you wanna still be able to fly by the end of this week, then you have to get better, Yn.”

You really, unfortunately, could not argue with that. Nearly a week and a half had passed since Yunho started touring. Opening night had been a massive success, as you’d seen the broadcast and read the reviews on social media. In the concert photos and videos slowly being released online, there was no doubt in your mind that Yunho belonged onstage. He was radiant as a diamond in each depiction of him, and he sounded better and better each night.

Suffice to say, you were beyond proud and happy for him.

In order to make your surprise successful, you informed Yunho’s team of your plans so they could help you get into the concert once you arrived. Your part consisted mainly of finishing all of your work ahead of schedule so you weren’t swamped when you got back. It was nearing the end of the term, meaning there was lots to grade and study, but when you had a goal, you were determined.

The only downside was that, between the long days and nights of work, your body couldn’t fight against the swift rush of early winter air that swept through the city in the past week. Your working hours stretched out longer and longer until your body just… gave up. Or at least, it was giving up.

After calling in sick to your workplace, you crashed back into bed for what you hoped to be a restful nap. Maybe when you woke up, this would all just turn out to be a 24-hour fever.

(It was not a 24-hour fever.)

You didn't even know what time it was when you woke up groggy and your head pounding like there was an active construction site taking place in your skull. Your bedroom was dark, and the world outside your window was also dark. The sound of your phone ringing drilled into your cranium, and you groaned as you felt around your mess of blankets and sheets for wherever that damned thing was—

“Hello?” You croaked into the receiver when you finally grabbed ahold of your phone.

There was a pause on the other end, and you were about to ask who it was when they responded. “Oh my god. You're sick.”

Your heart leapt into your throat at the sound of your best friend's voice and you shoved your face into the pillow. “I'm not sick.”

“Yn, sweetheart, you literally have the sexy sick voice.”

“You think I'm sexy?” You asked in a drowsy, unwell daze. “But anyways, I'm not—” You lifted your face into your elbow in time to practically hack out your lungs. You groaned. “Okay, maybe I am sick.”

Could things get any worse?

You could hear the frown in his voice. “You sound like my worst nightmare.”

“Am I sexy or your worst nightmare? You need to pick an adjective.” You whimpered as you struggled to pull yourself up into a sitting position.

“At least I know it did nothing to that attitude of yours,” he laughed. He sobered for a moment when he heard you groan as the blood rushed to your head. “Hey, do you have meds with you? I can order some and have them there in half an hour.”

You waved him off, even though he wouldn't be able to see. “No, it's okay. I should have taken an ibuprofen before I crashed. I'm sure we've got extra Nyquil around here somewhere…”

You attempted to stand up, a swear falling from your mouth as the vertigo hit you and sent you tumbling back down onto the edge of the bed.

“Yn, I'm sending you medicine—and dinner. That one bistro near your apartment is still open, right? I'll let Trinity know that deliveries are on the—Yn?”

You lifted your head and broke out of your return to unconsciousness. “Hm? Sorry… I did not hear anything you just said.” You rubbed your hand down your face and scooped your phone up to make your way out of your room. You somehow made it to the door, and you leaned against the doorjamb as you pushed out into the dark hallway. “You don't have to send anything, Yun. Trinity's studying for her law school finals, so I don't wanna bother her. Plus…”

You opened up the medicine cabinet in the bathroom and bit back a sigh of disappointment. No cold medicine. There was pain medication, at least, so that should hopefully help you fall asleep again.

At your lack of words, Yunho asked, “No medicine?”

“No, I have some medicine,” you countered. “Just—not the right ones.” Before you could swallow any pills, you hacked out another lung into your elbow; you swore your coughs were sounding worse and worse.

“You know what? I'm flying home—”

You slammed the pill bottle on the bathroom counter. “Don't—what? Yunho, do not fly home. It's literally just a little—” You coughed, “—cold. You have another show in two days. If you show up on my doorstep, I'm not opening the door.”

From the silence on his end, you knew he wasn't in total agreement with you. Maybe the bottle slamming was a little much, but his statement had surprised you. It didn't make sense for him to drop everything for you when you were experiencing something so trivial as a cold.

Not unkindly, you said to him, “I appreciate the concern, but you have bigger things to worry about and care about.”

“You will always be the most important thing I care about.”

His admission was so sincere that your heart gave a violent palpitation in your chest. You struggled to swallow, and it wasn't just because your throat was sore. “And I feel the same way about you,” you murmured, “but I can take care of myself, okay? I'll be back to normal in no time.”

You heard a sigh from his end. “I know; you're right. I just… wish I was there with you right now.”

You could understand that—it was how you felt. But some things couldn't be helped, and Yunho needed to be where he was and you needed to be where you were. You could hold down the fort while he was gone taking over the world by storm.

You closed the bathroom door to give an extra barrier between your voice and where Trinity was studying in her room. After knocking back a couple painkillers, you seated yourself on the floor with your back against the bathtub and your knees pulled up to your chest. “You know what's kind of ironic?” You coughed into your elbow and wrestled down another one bubbling up in your throat. You shouldn't have been speaking so much, but you could deal with the repercussions later. “I think I freaked out when you said you were going to fly home, not just because that's insane, but also because I was going to surprise you by flying out to your show in a couple days.”

He sucked in a breath. “You were gonna come surprise me?”

“Yeah,” you muttered, swiping at your nose and tucking your chin to your knees. Then you had to go and screw it all up, and you couldn't even get your money back. You pretty much accepted that you weren't going to be better by the time the day rolled around, especially not for travel. “I'm sorry I couldn't come see you.”

“No, don't be sorry!” He cooed. “I'm—I’m really sorry you're sick and I'm sad you couldn't make it, but… but think of it this way, hm? As soon as you get better, I'll fly you out to whatever city I'm in and we can hang out and you can come to the concert. All you have to do is get better for me.”

You didn't know if your schedule would allow after this setback, but you were going to remain optimistic. With a small glimmer of hope peering through your chest, you replied, “Okay.”

“Okay,” he said, and you could hear the fond smile in his voice.

“By the way,” you began, and had to clear your throat from how congested it was getting. Maybe some hot tea would do you good. You clambered to your feet to get out of this bathroom and do just that. “Was there a reason you called originally or was it just to say hi?”

A beat of hesitation passed between your question and his answer. “Ah…” There was a wince in his voice, “I, uhm, called because I wanted to know if you'd seen something online, but obviously you haven't 'cause you were asleep, but…”

Seen something online? Your movements with your electric kettle paused. Had someone posted something about Yunho? “What is it, Yun?” Who's ass did you need to beat?

“Seonghwa hyung found out that someone leaked the hidden track online a few hours ago.”

You leaned your cheek against your palm, eyebrows knitting together. “Shit, dude. I'm so sorry,” you said with a frown. That meant some rando on the internet had hacked into someone's files and leaked the song.

A sharp exhale from Yunho's end. “Yeah, I dunno. We're working on getting it taken down right now, but in the event it can't be done soon enough, I think I'm just gonna release the deluxe version in a couple hours.”

It seemed by his response that it wasn't the hacking that was his primary concern. Leaked, unreleased songs happened to every major artist in the industry, and it had most definitely happened to Yunho before this. But this time… this time felt different. You knew how hesitant he was to release this, and having the track get released to the public on terms that weren't his? Well, that just wasn't fair.

“You don't,” you said softly, reaching for a mug in the top cabinet to plop your tea bag into, “have to release it officially right now. You can still wait until you're comfortable.”

You heard sounds of shuffling on his end, followed by the sound of a door opening. You thought you heard Yeosang's voice as he murmured something to Yunho. The exchange was swift, but it reminded you that your time with your best friend here was limited.

“Do you need to go?” You asked, trying to cover up your hope that he didn't have to with nonchalance.

He hummed. “It's okay, I have a few minutes left. They want me to 'okay’ a couple things out on set, but that can wait. Uhm… as for what you said about releasing it—I,” he sighed, “I think this was the push I needed to finally drop it, y'know? I think either way I was going to be scared for—for people to hear it—for you to hear it. But uhm… yeah. That's all I wanted to say. I think it'll probably be released whenever you wake up.”

You poured the hot water of your tea bag, setting the kettle down gently. Letting the steam rise up to help clear your congestion, you could finally think a little clearer now. “I'm sorry this didn't happen on your terms.”

“I appreciate that. I hope you like the song—I… I really hope you like the song.”

A smile tugged at the corners of your lips. “I'm going to like the song, rockstar. You have nothing to worry about, I promise.”

He let out a small laugh and the sound of his happiness, however big or small, made your chest feel heavy. “I’ve missed you so much,” he rasped out. “So much.”

You pressed your forehead to your fist, willing the prickling feeling of tears at bay. “I wish I was there—I’ve wished I was there with you the moment you left. But I'm so, so proud of you. I know I've said this before, but you belong on that stage, Yunho. I'll be there… I'm always there in spirit.”

“You can't say that and expect me not to fly my ass home right now.”

You sputtered out a laugh, which was probably a bad idea, because it led to an utter disaster of a coughing fit. When you finally managed to get a reign on things, you picked up your mug of tea and took a couple ginger sips. It was still piping hot, but whatever scalding temperature it was at somehow soothed your throat and your head.

You set the cup down. “Again, I'll be there in no time, I promise.”

“You swear on your life?”

You sighed, but you pressed your lips into a smile. “I swear on my life.”

Yunho's departure from this call was imminent, and so you made further promises to get plenty of rest and to take care of yourself. You only did so when he promised to do the same for himself. Just after you both hung up, you received a text message from him: Stay up for five more minutes!! The delivery's almost there.

You huffed out a rough-sounding laugh, and bit your tongue around a smile. Of course he had still ordered you stuff. You shook your head to settle on one of the kitchen stools to nurse your tea and wait for the delivery to get here.

When the driver was safely out of bounds of your door, you poked your head out into the hallway to grab the paper bags seated on your doorstep. You had only expected medicine and maybe dinner, but not only were there cold medicines, orange juice, and hot soup from the bistro down the street, but there was a bouquet of flowers there, too.

Butterflies fluttered in your stomach as you pulled everything into the safety of your apartment. Damn Jeong Yunho and his gestures. It didn't mean anything—they were just Get Well Soon flowers, but why did you kind of wish they were more than that?

The Youth album's fourteenth track entitled your space hit the charts at number two. By the time you woke up, still sick as hell, the track had been officially released for about eight hours. You rolled over in bed to guzzle down half a bottle of water and cold medicine, then grabbed your phone.

It seemed that social media blew up while you were asleep. The deluxe drop was trending under a couple different tags, and based on initial skims, you were happy to report that most had everything good to say about it.

Though, some of the commentary made you pause. He has to be seeing someone, said one user. Look at these lyrics. These could only be produced by a man in love.

You had to swipe out of the app at that point. Instead, you went over to yours, Yunho's, and Mingi's group chat together where Mingi and Yunho had waged a meme war while you were asleep after Mingi wished you a “Get Better Soon” message. You sent back your own meme in response and opened your music streaming app to find track fourteen.

The boys would probably all be asleep by now, so they wouldn't respond any time soon.

You found your space exactly where you thought it would be, at the very bottom of the deluxe album. You sat yourself up against your headboard, plugged your earbuds in, then hit play.

If only you knew how much it would rock your world.

Hongjoong was never wrong about his hunches. It had been about a week and a half since you came down with an awful cold and couldn't make it to your intended surprise show, and slightly less than that since the deluxe album dropped. Even before the tour started, life was a whirlwind, but now that the tour was only ramping up further from this point, it had been nothing short of a total rush.

Different cities every week, at least two nights a city—all of it took a toll on both the staff and artist involved. Hongjoong's hunch, however, regarded the artist in particular as he watched said artist keep his smile up to say goodnight to the remainder of the stadium workers who lingered for cleanup. Yesterday was their last show date in this city, and today, Yunho and his team had come by to help load everything up for transport to their next destination. Tomorrow, they would fly out and be in the next city to begin preparing for the next round.

But as Yunho began making his way toward the exit where Hongjoong was waiting for him, it was impossible to miss the immediate exhaustion that flooded his features. He carded a hand through his hair as he checked his phone, then pocketed it in the back pocket of his pants.

“Hey,” Yunho nodded to Hongjoong as he met him at the exit and they both walked out into the chilly evening together. There was already a car waiting at the curb to take them back to their hotel—there was still so much that needed to be done before they left for the airport tomorrow.

“Hey,” he said back. “Everything okay?”

Yunho glanced over at him. “Huh? Oh, yeah. I'm fine; just tired. I think it's a good thing I started packing before we came here earlier,” he mused. For him to pack early? A miracle.

Hongjoong bobbed his head in understanding. “Yeah, I get that, but that's not really—you know you can be honest with me, right? I know this has all been… a lot.” And Hongjoong would understand; he had been in the public eye for so long now, and all of that could be so incredibly draining. From catering to fans and journalists and sponsors, it could be difficult finding himself amongst all that mess.

Plus, Yunho had the added bit of being away from home for a very long time. From what Hongjoong understood, Yunho only used to tour relatively close to home, and when it was farther, it was during his school breaks. He also knew that you were an integral part of Yunho's sanity, and that even before he reached this level of fame, you were his rock, his anchor, his ground control.

Being away from you for so long was beginning to show. When Hongjoong brought it up offhandedly to Mingi, Mingi was swift to agree.

“I—” Yunho began as he slipped into the passenger seat and Hongjoong into the back of the car. He murmured a soft greeting to the driver before strapping himself in with a seatbelt. “—it definitely has been hard,” he admitted with a sigh. “I don't know, Joong. You know that rush you get while onstage, but it just comes crashing down a couple hours later? Like the adrenaline leaves you all at once and all you crave for is home?”

Hongjoong pursed his lips, watching Yunho lean the side of his head against the window as he watched the world pass by. “Yeah, I do,” he said quietly. “The moments between all the rush and excitement, you're no longer distracted from how much it all is.”

A nod. “Yeah.”

“You miss her?” It was less of a question and more so a statement. Hongjoong's hunches were never incorrect. It was both a blessing and a curse.

Yunho's quiet was answer enough.

Hongjoong played around with the back of his phone case. He knew you had listened to the song—he’d asked Yunho and you'd texted Hongjoong, too. Yunho reported that you gushed about the song and affirmed him in all his choices and lyricism as always, but he was certain that you didn't get it. But when you had run to Hongjoong questioning your own feelings and if Yunho had been scared to tell you if he was in love with someone, Hongjoong could confidently say that you did get it, just not one hundred percent.

There was still miscommunication in the message, but he knew that was only something that the two of you could sort out.

“Have you guys talked since last week?”

“Yeah, we have. She's been…” He pushed a breath out of his mouth, “... She's been working her ass off trying to make up for the amount of time she was sick. I don't even know how she isn't getting sick again. I mean—all the shit she has to weather through—I wish I could help.”

And he couldn't, not like how he wanted to, not from so far away. Maybe that was what was eating him up inside the most, besides the fact he believed his feelings to be unrequited.

The car pulled up to the back entrance of the hotel Yunho and his team were staying at for the time being. The two of them thanked the driver on their way out, and they were swiftly greeted by employees coming out of the back for their breaks.

When they reached the warmth of their hotel floor's hallway, Yunho said to Hongjoong, “I miss her so much.” He shoved his hands into the pockets of his Youth World Tour hoodie, eyes lined in silver. “I worry about her so much, too. I'm sure she worries just as much about me and I know that she's more than capable about taking care of herself—’cause god, she was the one who kept me afloat all these years, and I—”

I love her.

He slapped his key card against the reader and shoved into his hotel room with Hongjoong trailing after with a sympathetic frown on his face.

“It just feels wrong sometimes when I can't be with her. Is that crazy?”

Hongjoong settled a warm hand on Yunho's shoulder as the latter sat down on the edge of his bed. “It's not crazy,” he said. He'd felt like that about a person, once upon a time. After everything Hongjoong had gone through with his last relationship, one might think he didn't believe in love, but he was still clawing for it. He wanted something that he could see manifesting between you and Yunho. He wanted to help you reach that.

He sighed and sat down next to him. “It's completely valid to feel this way, y'know? She's been a huge part of your life and your passions, and for you to see all this without her seems incomplete.”

Yunho nodded. “Yeah.”

“You can go home whenever you want, you realize that?” Hongjoong asked. “We have time built into each week to give you rest days, man. We can make that work.” It might be a little tiring for so much travel, but one trip back wouldn't hurt, especially when it could help his mental state more than simply powering through.

“I know,” he replied. “I don't… I just feel like I want her to see that I can do this, that she didn't put her trust and energy into someone who would fall so fast—”

“Do you seriously believe she would think about you that way?”

Yunho's expression shuddered, and he let out a shaky breath as he shook his head.

Hongjoong arched his brow. “Exactly. She would never fault you for needing a break. Being human is not a sign of weakness, Yunho. She's your best friend—I think she has more forgiveness and compassion for you than that.”

Yunho swallowed. Of course what Hongjoong said was right. You wouldn't look at him any different if he needed a break; it was just a thing about being kinder to himself. But sometimes it was hard to put that into perspective, and perhaps he just needed someone to do that for him.

With no good choice made without a decent night of sleep, Hongjoong bid Yunho goodnight.

As soon as Hongjoong slipped out of his friend's room, he sighed and mentally calculated what time it would be where you were. You should have been awake.

And awake, you definitely were.

You would be lying if you said you hadn't been listening to the song your space on repeat for the past week and a half. Even as you sat in one of the campus dining halls doing work and eating your crappy sandwich for lunch, your headphones were spilling with your best friend's gorgeous croons.

You questioned everything at the same time. You'd figured out two days after you first heard it that you were in love with your best friend.

The lyrics had resonated with you, and you had come to the startling conclusion that you felt the song's meaning toward Yunho.

All you could do since was freak the fuck out and tell Yunho that the song was incredible. You didn't know who the song was for or about, but you knew it was important to him because of how scared he was to release it. Had he been scared to tell you he was in love with someone? Why?

Sometimes you found yourself tearing apart the lyrics like a rabid trash panda.

I couldn't ever leave you behind They couldn't ever take me away Baby, if I could pick a heaven on Earth It would be anywhere in your space.

You broke away from your work and sandwich to the sound of a text notification. Suddenly remembering how loud your vibration ringer was, you silenced it, then opened up Hongjoong's message: I know you're probably moping and eating a shitty sandwich—what. You glanced down at said shitty sandwich that sat in its equally sad plastic container. How did he know…? —and he's not doing well either. He's miserable, dude.

Everything slowed for you, and it was no longer about your so-called epiphany. You felt your entire body and mood drop at the news. You'd seen social media posts commenting on Yunho's stage presence and brightness never fading, but there were always the one or two who noted something along the lines of him seeming too tired or that perhaps he didn't have enough stamina for this.

The latter comments made your blood pressure spike, but there was, unfortunately, some truth to it. You just didn't think it was this bad.

You pressed the backs of your knuckles against your eyes. You hadn't been doing the best, clearly, and you knew that it was largely because you missed him. Being away from someone you considered home for so long meant that you were bound to get homesick.

You didn't know what to do. There was so much work to be done, and you had just caught up. On top of that, you were short a few hundred dollars from the last time you tried to fly out.

Another message buzzed in from Hongjoong: I think you guys really need to talk.

The organ in your chest rattled around in its cage; it longed to be with its partner. You were starting to understand that now.

The song playing in your ear was slowly petering out, and all you could hear was his voice.

And I've kinda been wanting to ask if we can Skip the 'why’ and get to the 'our’ Because baby, I love your space But I love ours more.

Yunho had not flown home that week. Some emergencies had sprung up as soon as they landed in their new city, and all bets were off to be able to go home. All that he could do was buckle down and get comfortable. Even so, he knew how to make the best out of a situation.

As he stood at the very center of the main stage, he held a hand up to shield his eyes from the bright spotlights shining down on him now.

“Is that better?” Hongjoong's voice echoed throughout the near-empty stadium.

From one of the balconies, Jongho cupped his hands up around his mouth to scream at the top of his lungs, “LOOKS GOOD, HYUNG!”

“Jongho,” Yunho chuckled into his microphone, “did someone not get you a headset, bro?”

A beat passed, and then, “NO.”

Mildly amused laughter cropped up around the stadium in reaction to the youngest's troubles. It was little moments like these where Yunho could forget for one second just how tiring all of this amounted to become. His smile was genuine, and his tongue darted out to trace his teeth—

“Jeong Yunho, put your damn tongue away.”

Yunho's eyes went as wide as saucers, his expression morphing into something like childlike surprise as he immediately retracted his tongue into his mouth. But in the split second it took his brain to process the words that had been said, he also recognized the voice who'd said them. From the big screen, any one of the staff members or you could see the way his face stretched into the widest grin possible, his eyes lighting up like spotlights.

He lifted the mic in his hand up to his lips as he tilted his eyes up to the sound and lighting box far up in the stands. From where he was onstage, he could just make out the shape of you in the box next to Hongjoong—the sneaky bastard. “Ln Yn, get your ass down here right now,” he said, hardly able to contain the excitement in his voice.

You didn't need to be told twice.

You raced down the stadium steps from the box, your legs carrying you as fast as humanly possible without falling. Yunho leapt off the stage and left his microphone behind to meet you in the middle.

Somewhere between the pit and mezzanine, you flew into his arms and he caught you, spinning you around. The glee on both of your faces was enough to make everyone stop and appreciate the tangible love before them. Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes and you pursed your lips to subdue them. You squeezed him as tight as you possibly could; his arms held you firmly around your waist, head tucked into the joint between your neck and shoulder.

“You're here,” he croaked with tears in his voice now. You heard him sniffle, and only held him tighter. He felt the added strength and let out a sob. “I missed you so much.”

Oh, for fuck's sake—you started bawling like a baby. “I—” you sucked in a breath, “—I heard—so I booked a flight—”

This only caused his body to tremble harder. “Oh god… Yn… I…”

You sniffled and brushed your hand over the back of his head in an attempt to get both of you to calm down. “Hey, don't worry about it, okay? It doesn't matter; you know I'd drop everything for you.” When his only response was to press his wet eyes against the heat of your neck, you blinked away your tears. “Plus, I missed you, too, rockstar.”

Yunho let out a watery laugh, gently setting you down onto solid ground. You both looked like a hot mess and a half: snot dripping out of your noses, eyes red and drowned in salty tears. The adrenaline rush from the surprise had trickled out of your system, but your heartbeat continued to rattle around in your chest with reckless abandon. His messy, damp hair; the wobbly shine in his dark brown irises; the way he smiled at you with that something on his face… he was everything to you.

“Glad to know the feeling's mutual,” he said, nudging you with his elbow, then pawing at his eyes to wipe the tears away.

“Good to see you, Yn!” San piped up from the stage with his microphone. He had picked up Yunho's microphone from where he'd abandoned it to come meet you.

You laughed, lifting a hand up in a wave. “Hey, San! Hi everyone!”

Chimes of greetings from all the other boys and staff members cropped up from all around the arena.

Yunho brushed a hand through his hair and wrapped an arm around your shoulders. “Did all you fuckers know about this?”

Mingi was perched on the ledge of the stage. His grin seemed to be the widest after watching your reunion. He tugged the microphone attached to his earpiece closer to his mouth. “Don't tell us you're not grateful now.”

“Nah, I'm just surprised Wooyoung was able to keep his mouth shut.”

Wooyoung didn't need a microphone to let you all know of his offense. You could hear his squawk of disapproval all the way from where you stood—crazy how acoustics worked.

Yunho heard your laugh from beside him, and he glanced over at you to catch the fond look on your face. He hadn't stopped smiling for the past five minutes, and it didn't matter how much his cheeks hurt. You were here; that was all that mattered.

“This place is—” you marveled as the two of you began walking down the stairs together toward the stage. The backs of your hands brushed against one another, breaths away from touching, from lacing, from being together. “—huge. It's so much more—” You felt your lip wobble again, “I don't even know why I'm getting emotional. It's all you dreamed of as a kid, wasn't it?”

The tears pricked at the edges of his eyes again, and the two of you looked back at each other with equally wet eyes and bright smiles. “Yeah,” he nodded, swiping at his eyes.

“You deserve it.”

“All thanks to you,” he said with a sniffle, hugging you to him again. You were solid and real beneath his fingertips—he was so happy you were here. This was where you belonged; none of this felt right without you.

When you finally reached the bottom of the pit, Yunho had to run back up to the stage, and you went through the aisles until you found your perfect seat. It wasn't long before Mingi bounded up the steps to come join you. He brought you in for a long awaited hug of his own.

“What's good, Yn?” He asked with a soft chuckle as he pulled away and settled in the seat to your left.

Just ahead, Yunho appeared onstage with his microphone in hand, and the two of you lifted your hands in sync to wave to your best friend.

You adjusted your bag in your lap, and clasped a hand on Mingi's shoulder. “This is surreal. Does it feel surreal?”

Mingi's lips pulled into a smile as nostalgia made his vision cloudy. “It does, every single time. I'm glad you're finally here—we’re all very happy that you're here now.”

You bumped your head against his shoulder and let it rest there for a moment, and his hand came up to gently pat your head to tell you he understood. You didn't need to say anything.

For the next hour and a half, you and Mingi got to watch Yunho and everyone else run through the last of the day's lighting checks. Periodically, someone else from Yunho's personal team would come and sit with the two of you, then leave quickly when they had something else on their to-do list.

At last, when the session wrapped up and everyone was sent to go home for an early night, you rushed down to meet with Yunho again.

He waited for you to be at his side before leading you down toward backstage. “There's a couple things I need to grab in my dressing room before we can head back to the hotel.” A thought suddenly interrupted his thoughts and his eyes widened. “Do you have accommodations? Please tell me you do.”

“Don't worry—I promise I'm not sleeping on the streets,” you teased. You'd figured all of that out pretty last minute with Hongjoong and Mingi's help.

Yunho nodded, a smile coming to his face. “Okay, good. I was gonna offer my room and I could sleep on the pullout couch.”

The thought of sleeping in the same room as him made your skin warm, and if you hadn't realized your feelings for him before, you would be confused as to why you were so flustered at the thought now. It wouldn't be the first time you had a sleepover. But this would be… different. Oh lord.

The backstage hallways were scarce and dimly lit in order to save energy, but it was enough to guide you and Yunho's way to the star dressing room. You swallowed as you reached the door—the facade plastered with a pretty, gold star with his name on it—and followed him inside.

“Hey, Yun?” You asked him as you lingered by the door and he rushed around to grab his things. The room was decently spacious, and definitely larger than all the other ones from his past tours.

“Mhm?”

“Could we… talk about something?”

He glanced back over his shoulder as he threw things into his bag. “Yeah, ‘course.”

You toed at the polished ground, fingers twisting and wringing in front of you. “It’s about the song. The, uhm, the your space one.”

His movements paused. He looked up and connected gazes with you through the vanity mirror in front of him. Yunho cleared his throat and ducked his head to zip up his bag. “What—what about it?” He asked, shouldering his bag and meeting you back at the door.

He seemed unable to look you in the eyes directly now as he closed the door behind the both of you as you stepped out into the empty hallway.

“I just,” you stammered. Blood rushed up to your face and you could hear your heartbeat thundering in your ears. “I needed to know—I didn’t need to know—it’s your life and your song, and you have every right to have feelings for someone without me knowing. And I think I’m asking this for selfish reasons, but… are you seeing someone?”

The question caught him off guard, his eyes blowing wide open. “Wh—no. No, I am not seeing anyone. Why do you ask?”

“The song—I know I shouldn’t be indulging in what people on the internet say, much less in the opinions of those who don’t even know you, but I couldn’t help but agree with them when they say the lyrics, the—the feeling of the song—you’re in love, and I—” Your breath caught in your throat as you choked on the words lodged there: And I am in love with you.

Yunho pushed an exhale out of his mouth and stepped toward you. So much shone in his eyes right then, and it didn’t matter how much light there was in this damn hallway, his eyes would always glitter like twin diamonds. “I am in love with someone. Yn, I’m in love with you,” he said. “I thought that the song would make it obvious, which is why I was so scared for you to hear it, but I realize now that this was just something I should have said outright.”

Your heart fluttered in your chest and it wasn’t from the nerves anymore. God, your knees felt like buckling from the force of the tenderness in his eyes alone. “You’re—you’re in love with me?”

“I am,” he nodded. He slowly reached for your hands and clasped them within his own. “I’ve been in love with you since that day you ran out of Science Olympiad practice to come to my audition; I’ve been in love with you from the moment you yelled at me for not being ambidextrous and I had beef jerky in my mouth—”

“I did not yell at you!”

He broke out into a cheeky, yet fond grin, his hand coming up to cup the side of your face with his hand. “I’ve been in love with you for so long that I can’t imagine what life was like before I was in love with you—and yes, you did yell, but you can yell at me as much as you like, and I would still be head-over-heels for you.”

Your lip curled in on itself at all of his words, at everything he was revealing to you now. You wished you had known—oh, god, you wish you had known. You didn’t know if things would have been different, but for some reason, you had a feeling that all paths might have led here nonetheless.

You squeezed his hand between your own now. “You’re everything to me, Jeong Yunho,” you rasped out, unable to put strength behind your voice for fear of all of the emotion about to spill out. “And I’m so stupid for taking so long to figure it all out, but I’m in love with you, too, and I’d be damned if I let another day pass without you knowing that.”

Something washed over him in that moment, and he laughed, leaning over to cup the back of your neck and rest his forehead against your own. It was ridiculous, the fact that both of you were giggling and smiling at such a precipice of emotion, but it felt right.

You could feel the warmth of his breath against your lips as he murmured, “Fuck, I wanna kiss you so bad.”

“Then come kiss me, rockstar,” you said, looping your arms around his neck. You drew him down to your mouth and felt his body mold against your own. Every crevice and curve slotted so perfectly with one another, and the heavy longing in your chest slowly eased.

“You guys have been incredible for me tonight—” Yunho beamed as he walked toward the front, center stage and looped the electric guitar strap over his head to the sound of the roaring crowd, “—so I've got a little surprise for you.”

One of the staff members had set out a mic stand and bottle water for him, and he approached both items to fit the microphone into place. Tonight was the Friday night concert being held in this city, and the energy was dialed to one thousand in all the best ways.

He held onto the microphone with one hand. “This song is dedicated to—written for—my best friend in the world, the love of my life, my stargirl. I'm sure you know it—you crazies debuted it at number two on the charts—this is your space.”

His smile tugged up wider at the reaction he received. If anyone in the crowd didn't know the song, they were about to fall in love.

Yunho laughed, shaking his head, as he began checking to make sure his guitar was tuned with practiced, nimble fingers. “Oh, by the way—” he pointed up at the accessory he wore, the crocheted headband holding his hair up and out of his face, with a row of stars across its band, “—she made this for me. Isn't it cute?”

The stadium echoed in choruses of “aw” and cheers.

He could only duck his head with a smile, eyes twinkling with fondness and tenderness at the thought of you. You were in the crowd, but you could be up here with him in spirit. “Yeah, that was me, too.”

After you and Yunho left the stadium yesterday, hands intertwined and a new page in your relationship turned, you’d gone back to his hotel to share a restful evening in one another’s presences. You revealed later that night that you spent the four or five days you were bedridden practicing your crocheting skills until you were able to make him a headband. A row of three stars studded the length of it—stars for your rockstar.

Yunho struck his fingers down the strings of his guitar with a gentle rocking motion from his opposite hand to let the sound reverberate around the stadium. The crowd cried in love as his soulful, beautiful voice filled their ears with love of his own. And as his fans filed out of the stadium for the night and headed home, Yunho could finally return to his home. Because you were here now… no matter how far, no matter the distance, the two of you would always find a way to be in the other's space.

a/n: pls remember to reblog, comment, and send asks if you enjoyed!

atz m.list

permanent taglist: @flwoie @vatterie @seomisaho @hqrana @ja4hyvn @outrologist @rikizm @tinkerbell460 @meosjinn @hyunjaespresent-deobi @stayarmytinyzenmoa-l @floatingpluto @gyulfriend @jaehunnyy @shakalakaboomboo @soonyoungblr @justanotherkpopstanlol @kangfication @pxppxrminty @fluorescentloves @haechansbbg @jaerisdiction @super-btstrash-posts @jundundun @http-gyu @mvvnsseul @mars101 @kflixnet

[vinelark]

what r some fics that shaped your psyche? you have so many good recs im currently rereading the to an athlete dying young series

hello! you sent me this ask ages ago and i've been meaning to get to it ever since. (it took me so long to answer that i'm sure you've reread to an athlete dying young by @sonosvegliato many times over by now but hell yeah, what a good one.)

these are a few fics--dc and beyond--that have been in my "in case of emergency" epub folder (aka fics i want to have on hand immediately to reread on bad days, or good days, or even average days) for a few years now. so here is an extremely incomplete list of fics that have shaped my psyche!

for dc specifically--if i tried to list all of them i would just end up repeating my whole fic rec tag, so these are just a few of the ones i read when i was getting into this fandom that stayed with me/made me want to seek out more for these characters:

📸 surveillance series by @smilebackwards

this series located the tim drake center of my brain and lit it up like the vegas strip.

🎒 like a hinge, like a wing by @bonesbuckleup

one of my go-to rereads for pangs; chapter one is a masterclass in tension. also, one of my favorite pre-robin tim pov fics of all time.

💻 nominal by @unpretty

"you don't get it, batman is a comedy" --conversation i've had with multiple people using this fic as my thesis statement.

🌃 the jingle jangle morning by @audreycritter

the moment somebody in my vicinity says "i love dick grayson" i'm on their doorstep with this fic url.

🚉 a meditation on railroading by @eggmacguffin

there's a moment in this fic known among my friends as "baby wipes jason" and it has successfully converted no less than three people to the fandom.

and then for non-dc fic:

🌌 atlas by @megafaunatic (mdzs & tgcf)

did i read this before i had a single clue who the characters were? yes. did i return to it once i did and lose my mind a little? yes. lore etymologyplayground writes that “so so so in love and pining so hard the lines between us are blurring and we haven’t made a move yet but it’s inevitable” flavor with such a deft hand; it is in fact called the lorezone. if any friends-to-lovers pining i write can achieve even 50% of a lorezone i will have done my job.

🪿 If they caught you by @feyburner (tgcf)

i go back to this when i think about setup and payoff, when i think about subtle misdirects, when i think about the monumental task of creating whole compelling new characters in 6k words.

🧪 away childish things by lettered (hp)

one of the best de-aging trope stories i've ever read; i think of this when i want to take a trope to its maximum potential and then go: no wait, there's even more.

(another fav de-aging fic is grow by @cafecliche; shorter plot but no less pangs 🌱)

🏡 in defiance of all geometry by @idiopath-fic-smile (les mis)

a fic that's a perfect reread when i need something cozy and full of character, and a perfect touchstone when i'm pondering something where the world may not hang in the balance but the stakes still matter.

📔 The Absolutely True Story of the Yiling Patriarch: A Manifesto in Many Parts by aubreyli (cql/mdzs)

paragon of metahumor, basically. i think of this when i want to write something that's funny in both text and form.

🍚 and his wanting grows teeth by @yuebings (cql/mdzs)

masterclass in pangy backstory reveal; the way the first scene loops back around to punch you in the gut long after you've forgotten it will forever be seared into my brain.

also, most answers on this list fit the bill!

(apologies again that this answer is so belated; it took me ages to write up partially because i kept stopping to reread these fics every time i tried.)

[mvltisstuff]

Evan Buckley & female reader - a fic where instead of the firetruck crushing buck’s leg, it crushes the reader’s leg instead and the reader is in the firetruck when it explodes and Buck & reader have been engaged for 2 years. Buck is worried and scared and panics when he sees the reader underneath the truck. He helps her through the physical therapy of getting back her leg strength and helps her through how she is told she may not be able to be a firefighter again.

lots of angst, heartbreak, sadness, anger, fluff too 💙

love ur 911 fics so much ❤️‍🩹

are you with me - e.b

summary: request

evan buckley x reader

a/n: i’m so happy you guys like my fics, i have plenty coming your way soon 🩶 btw this started off pretty strong and idk what happened toward the end w the quality

it’s never realized how much calamity one person can cause in such a large city. people get in their cars to go to work, they order a package, they stop at the store, and the last thing they expect is an explosion right at their feet.

over three million people in los angeles, and one forced 30 tons of weight onto y/n’s leg. it was just work. something she does every single day. of course, nothing in life ever remains the same, but this is really something you can never expect. you watch it in movies, or you hear about it in the news, only until it happens to you.

she knew the bones in her leg were crushed upon the impact, the engine thrown on its side. buck watched from a distance, being held back by the police. he would do anything for her. he wanted to tear this kid to shreds. he saw y/n’s broken leg under the truck and her head weakly lifting up. he could almost hear the pained gasps and whimpers from her lips. y/n, on the other hand, felt like she was in the center of the ring, the joke of this kid.

all the bystanders watched the scene unfold, the boy trying to summon the captain of the 118. it felt unreal. the noise and the truck shaking the ground they walked on.

buck thought he hallucinated the sparkling ring on y/n’s hand, somehow managing to remind him of the fight he was about to do. he vividly remembers the day he got down on his knee, bargaining the rest of his life to her and crying when she said yes. the whole team had been there, watching from a distance as her hand covered her mouth and lifted him from the floor. their wedding was being planned, every last detail needing to be perfect for the couple.

most people’s instinct would be to run away, but buck wanted to run toward the chaos. if y/n was there, so was he. his life mission has been to keep her safe, and knowing someone went out of his way to hurt her makes him go crazy. the exact moment that freddie was taken down with his overcomplicated vest, buck found himself running to her. he instantly fell onto his knees, seeing the ash and tears on her face close up.

she wished she couldn’t feel it, but she felt every part of it. she didn’t know anything. was her leg even connected to her anymore? buck moved himself closer to her so she could hear him over the murmuring of watchers.

“hey! hey, y/n,” he starts.

“it h-hurts so bad,” she whines, making him grimace himself.

“son of a bitch, ok. we’re gonna get you out of there, yeah?”

“please,” she begs, almost inaudible. buck stands up, calling for anyone he can to lift the truck off her, which was almost impossible with a few people around. hen was on the ground, connecting machines to y/n’s harmed figure.

“hang in there, y/n/n,” she says softly. “we’ve got you.”

despite his entire body weight being used to lift the ladder engine, it didn’t budge once. the only thing it did was echo the raw screams from y/n, poisoning bucks ears making his heart speed up. the adrenaline pumping through his system was making him think he could do it.

“do you have anything on the truck we can use for leverage?” eddie asks to a panicked bobby, trying to save one of his workers and best friends.

“it’s too heavy, it wouldn’t work,” bobby says as a light goes off in bucks head.

“more people,” he mumbles. “we need more people! hey! all of you, get over here and lift this!” he shouts at the mob of people observing the accident. not hesitating, the civilians sprint over and grab onto any part of the truck that they can.

y/n was in grievous pain, dreading the agony that would come when they finally lifted it. she was right, it was tormenting, releasing shrieks she didn’t know she had. before she could rethink everything, she was tugged from under and flipped onto her back. buck couldn’t peel his gaze away from the blood that has completely stained her pant leg and the parts of her leg that should be inside of it. complete shock and fear took over his body, but not enough to stand there with her the whole time. he watched chimney and hen bandage up her leg and move her into the ambulance, where buck sat next to her. hen was in the back with him, chim being the designated driver. unfortunately, y/n had been awake for the entire experience. from the second the engine flipped, to the second she was lifted into the ambulance. as much buck was grateful that she was awake, he almost wanted her to pass out. she wouldn’t have to endure this much pain, despite the morphine kicking in.

y/n’s hand twitched in bucks, “buck?” she grumbles out.

“y/n,” he makes note of her panicked state. “i’m here, you’re ok. i’m not going anywhere, honey.”

“someone should tell the city that we need a n-new truck,” buck laughs at her mind and how it works before running a hand through her hair.

“you don’t have to worry about that,” says buck. “you have no idea how relieved i am that you’re ok.”

“we’re getting married soon,” she realizes. “shit, we were supposed to get married soon-“

“shh, it’s all gonna work out, ok?” buck reassures. “i’d marry you no matter what, broken leg or not.”

“promise?”

“i promise.”

the hours sitting in the waiting room were grueling. maddie had left to be with buck, watching the entire scene go down on the news. even her heart ached, watching someone she already considers family have to face something like this. the whole team was anxiously waiting for the surgeon to come out and say she’d be ok. she held them together like a true family, being the most stable relationship they had. she was the part of the station that made their bond unbreakable. watching her vulnerable condition under that truck was almost intolerable. the time that she wasn’t in work felt like a missing puzzle piece.

weeks had passed since the bombings of LA, and buck had been there every single day. in sickness and in health, he hasn’t said the words out loud, but he swore to that since the day he met her. he knows that she would do the same exact thing for him, and he would spend every single day helping her.

y/n felt completely isolated in their small apartment, barely being able to leave the first floor. she craved work, she desperately awaited the day that she could return, but the injury in her leg hadn’t resolved. no matter how many times she tried to convince herself, she didn’t know if she’d ever be a firefighter again. at some point, she almost envied her fiancé for being able to go to work. he felt so bad for her, just wanting to give her her life back. the weekly doctors appointments were draining her of almost everything she had, every single one proving nothing. nothing that meant anything. the situation was completely out of anyone’s control, and she had consumed so much anger about it. anger at the doctors, the therapists, the kid, the 118, everyone around her.

buck was forced to sit back and watch, to act as a shoulder to cry on. he was the third crutch, the person she leaned on when she couldn’t stand on her own. there was no way in hell she could’ve done it alone. buck was the one to drive her to every appointment and helped carry some of the burden.

at the end of the day, there were two things that scared y/n the most. losing buck and losing her job. the two things that got her out of bed and the two things that gave her a true meaning. as time passed and every request to be back at work was denied, she swore her heart hurt more than her leg.

“y/n?” buck called out after arriving back home. she had been on the couch, watching another drama series about firefighters. “hi, how are you doing?” he asked when spotting her in the living room. she didn’t respond, just looked at the television with the volume low. he went and sat next to her.

“what’s wrong? did something happen?”

her eyes had already been bothered from tears of anger and frustration, and he could clearly see that with his own. “they called again.”

“wasn’t the answer you wanted?”

“i have been pushing myself every day for approval, and i have not gotten anything for it,” she says, dryly. “i have been killing myself to go back to what i love and why am i not getting anything?” her voice cracks.

“listen,” he tries to distract her from her own negativity and forces her to look at him. “i know you’ve heard this a million times, but you have to let yourself take the time to heal. if you go back too soon, you’re going to make it worse.”

her nose scrunches at bucks words, causing her to sniffle as he continues. “i know, it sucks, and i am so, so sorry. it’s just that none of us want to see you do more harm than good. we need you back as a firefighter, but i need you back to normal first. you’re worth so much more than this, and this injury is not going to take you out, we all know it.”

y/n opens her mouth to speak, but nothing comes out besides the small beginning of a word. she knows he’s right, but having to come to terms with that is the hardest part of it all. she begins to cry lightly again, her face in her hands as she leans forward. buck slides over, wrapping his arms around his distressed fiancé.

y/n took bucks advice, and now, she stands in the entrance of the firehouse. she walks in to see her uniform waiting for her in her cabinet, her gear untouched, and it feels like she was here yesterday. she feels at home here. buck follows her in, grabbing her hand and they restart the rest of their lives.

[munsonsmixtapes]

Hey ❤

i was wonderimg if i could request a fic where the roles are reversed and reader proposes to eddie.. (maybe a little optional scene where steve and robin help the reader pick out a ring?) and he feels so loved, Hes so giggly with butterflies and loves his ring

All their friends and wayne are around and supporting them and congratulating them

Um, absolutely! I love this idea!! Thank you so much for the request, lovely!!

Eddie x gender neutral!reader

You knew that you wanted to propose to Eddie six months into your in your relationship, but decided against it since it was probably too early. Once you had reached a year and your relationship had become more serious, you had started looking for rings with Steve and Robin’s help.

You had looked for months, but nothing seemed right. They were all too flashy or expensive and you wanted the ring to be perfect. Something that he would have picked out for himself. And Eddie had a very specific taste so it was definitely difficult, but you were going to keep looking until you found what you were looking for.

You entered the last store of the day, feeling hopeless with Steve and Robin in tow. You were glad to have them help you make such a big decision, but you felt like they didn’t understand Eddie the way you did. Robin’s suggestions were too shiny and Steve’s were too simple. You needed something that screamed “Eddie” but kept coming up empty handed.

“What about this one?” Robin asked as you looked over the very sad options.

“I don’t know,” you sighed, turning your head to see what she was pointing at and you stopped. It was black with a silver Celtic knot that went around the whole band. It was perfect. It was Eddie.

“It’s perfect, Rob,” you rested your hand on her shoulder, giving it a squeeze.

“Can we see this one?” Robin asked the employee and he pulled it out from behind the glass and handed it Robin who pulled Steve over, putting the ring on his finger to see what it looked like.

“I do,” Steve told you dramatically and you just rolled your eyes as he removed it from his ring and handed it back to the associate.

“I’ll take it,” you told him and five minutes later, you had the ring and a knot in your stomach. You were sure that he would say yes but that didn’t mean that you weren’t nervous.

You had told Eddie that you were having everyone over to celebrate his new job, but really it was just for the proposal. You also had Wayne keep the ring safe since you didn’t really trust that anyone else wouldn’t lose it.

Everyone had arrived sooner than you had hoped and your heartbeat quickened as the proposal set in. You were going to ask Eddie to marry you. To spend the rest of his life with you.

Soon, the party was in full swing and you had a chat with Wayne who was trying to calm you down. He had always liked you and considered you to be part of family so when you asked for his permission to marry Eddie, it was an easy yes.

“He’s going to say yes, everything is going to be great,” he gave your back a pat.

“Do you have the ring?” You asked.

“Right here,” he held up the red velvet box and put it in your hands, resting his on top of yours. “He’s very lucky to have you,” he told you, tears welling up in his eyes. “I’ve been waiting for someone like you for a long time and I couldn’t be more grateful that you’re part of this family. Now go propose to my boy.”

You wiped your tears away and headed to the center of the room with your glass of champagne where you were going to make a toast. You had everyone take a glass and pulled Eddie to stand beside you.

“I’d like to make a toast,” you announced and everyone was cheering you on, all of them being in the loop except your unsuspecting boyfriend.

“Eddie,” you started. “I couldn’t be more proud of you in this moment. You’re finally doing what you’ve always wanted and I couldn’t be more happy for you than I am right now. I have loved you for a long time, even before we got together. The moment we got together, I knew that I didn’t want to spend my life with anyone else. So Eddie,” you set down both of your glasses and got down on one knee, opening the box. “Will you marry me?”

Eddie let out a gasp and tears welled up in his eyes that he was trying to wipe away. He couldn’t believe it. He had been wanting to propose to you and just couldn’t make it work because of his nerves. Now he didn’t have to. You were taking the reins on this one and he couldn’t have been more grateful.

“Yes,” he smiled, pulling you to your feet. You pulled the ring from the box and put it on his finger as everyone erupted in cheers. He pulled you in for a long hug then sealed your engagement with a kiss and he couldn’t wait to walk down the aisle and vow that he’d love you in sickness and health until death did you part.

[theicarusconstellation]

Hi, ok hear me out. An arcane AU with marauders characters. Black brothers angst, etc.

(Just an Idea don’t feel pressured to write anything at all I just really love your style of writing and if anyone was to write an arcane au, I would want it to be you that’s all ily bye bye now)

NO I LOVE THIS SO MUCH YES

i actually have an arcane au just for me that’s centered around regulus and mariela (my oc jegulus’ daughter) with mariela as jinx and regulus in silco’s position. it’s mariela’s pov so i won’t be publishing it or anything since it’s just a silly OC story, but god it’s. So important to me.

in terms of what i would publish though🤭regulus as jinx has always been so deeply felt as Canon in my heart and soul. like. oh the youngest sibling curse is REAL and the thought of him being Haunted his entire life, alone and abandoned, raised to be more weapon than person OH I JUST AHHHHH GNAWING AT THE BARS OF MY ENCLOSURE.

plus we all know i’m a slut for transmasc genderfluid regulus, so imagine a pre-transition regulus in powder’s position, and then once he reunites with sirius (who’s in vi’s position — bro gets falsely locked up in every universe lmao), there’s a whole other layer to the “refusing to call jinx by her new name” thing because regulus is trans!! he’s trans and it’s Not Who Sirius Remembers and it just furthers regulus’ mentality that he’ll never be accepted as he is.

OH AND IMAGINE THE BLACK BROTHERS ANGST AT THE DINNER SCENE.

“i thought…maybe you could love me like you used to. even though im…different…”

AND SIRIUS. DOESNT. RESPOND. LIKE??????????

i’m not sure whether i’d want to play into the exact dynamic of jinx and silco, in which case i’d have bellatrix be in silco’s position, if i’d want to play into the softer parts, in which case i’d have narcissa be in silco’s position, or if i’d want to play into the fully toxic and manipulative parts, in which case i’d have tom riddle be in silco’s position.

and okay hear me out: pandora as viktor. LITERALLY OPENING PANDORA’S BOX HELLO!!!!!!!! pandora as viktor, and i can’t decide who would be jayce, but im thinking maybe barty?? the Diplomat’s Son dabbling in forbidden sciences only to discover something genius (mr twelve O.W.L.s over here).

with mel (side note she looks so good in season two promos im SWOONING) i could see her being lily or dorcas. i’ve wanted to write bartylily for a while but never got the chance to, so lily in mel’s position would be the perfect opportunity for their twisted little dynamic, but dorcas’ slytherin cunning up there running the council?? that’s also just. too good to pass up yk??

i’d probably combine elements of both lux and ekko for james’ character. i’m a lightcannon girlie through and through, but for this fic id defo make an exception for jegulus <3 KISSING ON HOVERBOARDS YES PLEASE <3

but yeah a regulus-centric arcane au has been On The Brain since i first watched the show. just. the dinner scene plays over and over in my head, and i just think, what if that was regulus? what would she do? who would be his silco? it’s absolutely a concept i intend to write, hopefully sooner rather than later.

also “if anyone was to write an arcane au id want it to be you” is probably one of the most flattering things anyone has ever said to me thank you so much??😭

[philaet0s]

Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written then pass it on to at least five other writers (except me because obvs I have done it). Spread the self love ❤

Ehe thanks for that! I wouldn't know who to send it to and I get embarrased about asks so let's say I'm sending it to anyone who wants to do it lol

Now my 5 fav fics I've written...

The first one is, UNDOUBTEDLY,

1. Live and Die For Moments That We Stole 

My baby (literally, it took me 9 months to write it), my masterpiece. I love what I've done with this fic, I love the characters and the trajectories their lives take, I'm really, truly satisfied with this fic. Which is rare. Obviously if I rewrote it now I might change a few scenes, but as a whole, I love the fic and I'm very proud of it. It was a huge challenge because of the time period I set it in and because of the sheer lenght of that fic, but I did, I wrote it :)

2. Second Chance

I have a weird emotional attachement to this fic, I couldn't explain why but I reread it so often (because yes, I reread my own stuff, what's the point of writing stories I want to read if I don't read them?), and it always puts me in a good mood. I love the idea of a second chance, and of characters GROWING as people before they get that second chance

3. Woundrous and Mystical

I have to put it in the top three. Before I wrote Live and Die it was my favourite fic of mine, I'm just so proud of that story. Baz is my favourite character in this universe and the way that his trauma -psychological and physical- from the coffin is dealt with in canon is something that genuinely upsets me so for the longest time I wanted to write my own version of that, a version of the story where Baz gets to be affected by the fact that he was, you know, locked in a dark box for weeks without food. That story is very dear to me because of that, because it's centered around Baz and his trauma, but also because when I look at my fics as a whole, it's really with this one that I started to get a sense of how I wanted to write the characters and their relationships. The most striking example of that is Niall, the way I wrote Niall in Wondrous and Mystical is the way I've been writing Niall in my other fics since (except Live and Die, funnily enough), like Woundrous and Mystical really shaped my writing

4. The Ephemeral Nature of Flowers

Probably the fic of mine I've reread the most after Second Chance. I just love the vibes of that fic, I like the bittersweet ending, and I especially love the idea that a strong connection can be born in a very short time. Not in a 'love at first sight' kind of way because I don't really like that trope but in a 'we've had one real conversation and I feel like you and I connect in a very special way' kind of way

5. Thirteen Days to Fall in Love With Your Worst Enemy 

That fic was soooo much fun to write. Putting our Simon with a Baz that considers him their best friend, and our Baz with a Simon that considers him his best friend + non!binary Baz my beloved <3

Simon getting to see Baz for the person that he truly is and not this evil mastermind he imagines him to be is always my favourite thing to write in fics where they start out disliking each other, and this fic is literally just that, so

[gluion]

works in progress

thought i'd hold myself accountable by posting about my upcoming works! if you're ever interested in being part of the taglist, feel free to reply to this post or leave me an ask! please know that synopses are subject to change and that genre and tags will be updated as i write.

last updated: july 28, 2024

almost, but not quite ➵ leehan

if there’s one thing leehan didn’t understand, it’s the gross, sticky emotions he feels with you. yet, there’s an undeniable warmth that lingers—and that’s when he knows he’s screwed. (in other words, the five times leehan found himself at a crossroads and the one time he decided on what he wanted with you.)

genre/warnings ➵ friends to lovers, fluff, loser!leehan, slight mutual pining... if you can even say that, emotions are gross and sticky aka leehan is always running AWAY from them… save this guy, reader is not that oblivious but leehan never reads their signals, alcohol, ponyo plays a big role in this fic (yes, the ghibli movie), getting froyo to avoid confessing LMFAO, kissing

word count ➵ est. 8-10k words

current status ➵ first draft (5.6k words), 3 more scenes remaining

at the center of the universe ➵ leehan

you’re nothing but a speck in the universe. while everyone would argue the same thing, you knew to your core that there would never be a universe where the cosmos would revolve around you. yet, a strange man in a blue police box convinces you otherwise.

general genre/warnings ➵ strangers to lovers, doctor who au, scifi, crack, fluff, angst, donna noble & tenth doctor dynamics, doctor who elements won't really be dived into

word count ➵ est. ??? (might be a whole universe until i decide its time to close their book)

current status ➵ universe has been roughly plotted out over discord dms... (p.s. love you @blumisiu <3)

every summertime ➵ myung jaehyun

with every summer break, your heart finds its way back to the goofball your brother is best friends with. yet, your crush on him never seems to fade away, and you don’t know if the few seconds he lingers mean something.

genre/warnings ➵ brother's best friend, fluff, light angst, slightly suggestive, summer love throughout the course of four years (16-19)

word count ➵ est. 6-8k words

current status ➵ outlining... still

prayers for a garden ➵ taesan

regardless if the world crumbles in your hands, taesan chooses to stick with you—for all he knows is you.

genre/warnings ➵ friends to lovers, royalty au, angst, devotion fic, inspired by edelgard and hubert’s relationship, mentions of violence & blood, uses fe3h names because i can’t for the life of me think of some El oh el…, very anti-monarch and pro-socialism reader if we’re going to be honest, but reader does have their downfall

word count ➵ est. 3-5k words

current status ➵ backburner... for now...

all works taglist ➵ @blumisiu @0310s @heebees

a/n ➵ always be patient as i try to write these fics! they do take a lot of care and effort, and can still be fleshed out! your words of support will always mean so much to me <3

[reverie-starlight]

heloo saw ur req was open!

Can i req smth like a fic? (or hcs if u prefer) of mammon x gn reader!

Basically where reader is the type that enjoys horror movie and never flinches or might even laugh at some jump scare bcuz they think it’s horrible or funny! and mammon is like ‘what?? how r they laughing??!’ while he’s shivering and clutching a pillow like his life depends on it..

YES OFC I CAN THIS IS SO FUN!!! PERFECT FOR HALLOWEEN <3

(I hope you can forgive me for taking so long to post it, my plan is to schedule this to be released ON Halloween hehe)

also I don't watch a ton of horror movies, so I'll keep it kinda general, but I hope you enjoy anyway!!!!

gn!MC, pre-established relationship with mammon, takes place in OG obey me.

HALLOWEEN MOVIES WITH MAMMON

okay so

at first when you say you want to do a horror movie marathon with him, he's hesitant

yeah, human world horror might seem a bit lackluster for a demon, especially ones centered around possession or summoning- they might even see some as comedies if the execution was done poorly

but possession hits a bit too close to home for mammon, and he's never been a big fan of horror in general

you see him hesitate and before he has the chance to hide his feelings and force himself to agree, you give him an out

"hey, we don't have to if you don't want to... I just thought it might be fun since Halloween is coming up and it's a fun way to get into the spirit of it all. I won't force you, my love."

and he almost takes it.

but then he thinks about how you were probably really missing out on human world holiday traditions... and he sees the bit of disappointment you're trying (and succeeding for the most part- if he didn't know you as well as he did you would have fooled him) to hide

so with a deep breath, he sucks it up and shakes his head. "no, it's okay. we can totally do that! pick a time and place and we'll binge as many as ya want."

your eyes light up and you grin. "really?! thank you so much, mammon! I promise we'll start off with some easier ones and work our way up! I'll go make a list."

he doesn't regret his decision one bit and appreciates that you're being considerate of his feelings

until he realizes that your definition of "easy" horror movies didn't exactly align with his.

the first movie on the list was not "easy" at all, and at first he thought you were pulling his leg a bit

until he saw that you looked almost bored whenever there was a jump scare

it was almost embarrassing that he was clutching the pillow as tight as he was, but you were so focused on the movie that you didn't notice.

you did make sure to periodically check on him in between scenes and during bathroom breaks, but he didn't want you to feel bad, so he put on a brave face that seemed to sway you

he somehow made it through the first movie, and the second, but by time you were on the third (still in the "easy" category, you had said), he felt mildly sick to his stomach

during the movies, you had actually laughed during a few of the scary scenes.

how were you so desensitized to the horror genre?!

he usually admired your bravery, but this was a whole other level.

this third movie had to do with a zombie apocalypse, and you teased him, saying it reminded you of that haunted house you both got trapped in forever ago.

he tried to laugh with you, but at that moment the main character came into contact with one of the zombies and he wasn't able to hold back his scream since his guard was down

suddenly he was hiding his face in your shoulder, and shivering in your arms

poor baby starts apologizing and shaking his head when you pause the movie to check on him

"mammon have you been trying not to let on you were scared this whole time?!"

he tries to deny it but you give him a stern look and he sighs, nodding, starting to shake less now that the initial shock had worn off

"I just wanted to make you happy! I know how much you must miss human world halloween traditions and I wanted to make it feel more normal for ya..."

you smile at him and cup his cheek.

"mammon, that's sweet, but I'm literally in hell watching horror movies with my demon boyfriend, it doesn't get more halloween-y than that for a human," you giggle when he pouts and you lean down to kiss it away

"and if you were scared, you could have told me! we can watch something else, it's totally fine. it's no fun if only one of us is enjoying it."

he reluctantly agrees, still feeling bad for "ruining" your horror marathon (to which you reassure him that he didn't ruin anything, and then apologize for not realizing sooner).

so for the rest of the night you watch horror parodies (which are definitely more his speed) and cuddle up together under the blankets until you both fall asleep, thankfully nightmare free.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

OKAY I really hope you enjoyed this, anon!!! and HAPPY HALLOWEEN!!!!!!!

I tried to keep it as general as possible because horror movies really aren't my thing, but if you're interested in more spooky mammon content, I have a fluffy halloween fic coming later today (it may already be out depending on when you read this) and I promise the quality is a lot better than what I've offered here :')

[pimento-playing-hopscotch]

Tag Game: 911 Lone Star Fandom Edition

Thank you for the tag, @chicgeekgirl89 @ladytessa74 💝

When did you first start watching Lone Star? Who or what introduced you to the show?

It was right about two years ago around this time of year, and the who would be Owen Strand himself, Mr. Rob Lowe. I was on Hulu and bored and saw this go by and thought well I've never met a Rob Lowe something that I didn't like, so what the hey.

I was not expecting to get this into it at ALL- like by the time the title card appeared for the first time I was like what is this show! (literally, I hadn't written anything in about 13 years, and I had no computer at the time, and there I was, scribbling down fic in my notebook like a child of the 80's lol).

Which season is your favorite?

For me it's a horserace between seasons one and four. Season one did so much with those ten episodes (why I have hopes season five can still be amazing with only twelve episodes) and season four for a couple reasons; one, season four fixed sooooooooo many of the mistakes they made in season three, and season four compared to season one is like them living their lives out loud.

Like that sad boy from New York who just wanted a way to bury his pain? He's getting married now!

That cop with zero work-life balance? Also getting married and has friends who adore him!

The trans firefighter worried he'll never date anyone he can be himself with- look at his relationship blooming now!!

It's just the best, season four.

Who is your favorite character? (Bonus: If you answered TK or Carlos, who is your favorite besides them?

Well, first pick would be my Tarlos boys, but I also do love me some Owen Strand. Yes he's flawed but there is so much good in him, and he's an amazing dad and captain when his character doesn't suffer from the show needing him to be the center of everything and the fact they can't land a decent romantic storyline for him (though I do know why that is lol).

Top Five Episodes - Go!

4x08 1x01 1x10 2x05 4x12

If you could pick any character to be given a "begins" episode, who would it be and what would that episode look like?

Carlos, cause I'd like to go just like a year before the show started - like it's been confirmed TK was his first real relationship but did he try to date? Did he ever hook up? Also I feel that because he is a good son that he wouldn't cut off his parents completely, but wouldn't see them until they asked, what was that like? Did he want to tell his mom about his life and feel like he couldn't? (note; this might be the most depressing begins episode ever - TK really burst in like the Kool-Aid man and color this boy's whole world).

Also Nancy, just because we don't get anything about her hardly - did she go to college? How long has she been with EMS? Did she have another captain before Michelle? All could use answers.

What is a scenario or storyline that you would like to see in season five?

TARLOS DOMESTIC MORNING SCENE PLEASE AND THANK YOU -

I want Carlos to be up early and trying to wake TK up gently. After TK says just a few more minutes four times, Carlos uses stern voice and tells him it's time to get up. TK still is hiding under the covers so Carlos puts those long fingers to use and tickles his husband right out of the bed.

Beyond that - for TK and Owen to have scenes together like they did in season four; for Owen's rich girlfriend to not be a thing anymore, for Robert's death not to cause any bad feelings between Strands, and for TK and Carlos to be on a team against their problem, not on opposite sides against each other.

Also Carlos picks TK up; in any context. I would love a Carlos puts his husband on his shoulder and carries him out of somewhere while he's protesting but would also accept in a romantic setting he picks TK up, or he picks a very sleepy TK up who wraps his legs around his husband and lays his head on his shoulder.

The still of a concerned Carlos on the phone and a despondent-looking TK behind him- what do you think is going on there?

I think a mean person told TK that Catan is stupid and TK got very upset about it and Carlos's phone call consists of "you made my baby sad? You picked a good day to die, son".

Juuuuuust kidding lol - no I think that Carlos has to do something dangerous (perhaps related to his father's murder, perhaps not) but it's known to be dangerous and TK is scared for him and begging isn't there anyone else? And Carlos gets the call confirming there's no one else; it needs to be Carlos.

We all know about the elusive spicy 5x05 scene that has been teased, so what is your prediction for how it could possibly top 1x02?

That is tough because they're still on network TV - I would say one or both of them are wet - possibly it is raining and they're at the famous Reyes ranch and Carlos takes TK in the barn.

Where was the Tarlos honeymoon in your mind?

(I may be stealing this) but I could see them going somewhere in Mexico - pretty but also not terribly far away, because of what happened but also because TK is very nervous about leaving their lizard child and is constantly texting his dad like what is Lou doing why haven't you sent me videos of him!!"

Shoutout to one of your favorite fan creations

The Little Monkey by @anewkindofme - my most reread fic and chock full of sweet TK and Owen feels. It is the ultimate comfort fic.

Where All This Love Comes From by @carlos-in-glasses - so much angst, so much heart, so much love, so much writing talent possessed by one person!

No pressure tagging - I tag @anewkindofme @nancys-braids @carlos-in-glasses @actualalligator @lemonlyman-dotcom @carlos-tk -tk @heartstringsduet and anyone else who wants to do it - open tag 🫶

[chickycherrycola]

(no place like) home for the holidays

Its Christmas Eve! Which means its FINALLY TIME for me to unveil the very special project I've been working on! I got a Christmas-y, holiday-themed idea in my head several weeks ago that started out as a few loosely connected scenes, and eventually spiraled into a whole-ass novel 😅 and today I am so pleased to present my most recent labor of love to the Soul Eater fandom: (no place like) home for the holidays. Its centered around Soul and Maka visiting Soul's family for the holidays, and its fluffy, its sappy, its pine-scented, and its so so mushy. I really hope that if you read it, that you enjoy 💝🎄

As always, I gotta give a special shout-out to @moriohpissky for all of her assistance bringing this fic to life. Thank you Leah for the beta read, the idea bouncing, and the assistance with the lovely moodboard! 💕

I'll be posting a chapter a day until the end of the year, starting with Chapter 1 today!

Rating: T

Summary: After a bit of convincing from his overzealous but well-meaning older brother, Soul returns to his hometown in upstate New York for Christmas with his meister in tow. It's been more than ten years since he's been home, and along the way, he'll have to contend with more than just a long-buried past - travel delays, shitty motel rooms with less-than-ideal sleeping arrangements, Wes's horrible ugly sweaters, and, perhaps most daunting of all... his feelings for Maka.

Preview of Chapter 1 under the cut, or read the whole chapter on Ao3!

Ch 1: All I Want For Christmas Is You

His phone rings just as he’s realizing he might be the slightest bit inebriated.

Incoming Call…

Wes

The only reason Soul picks up the phone is because he's on his fourth cup of eggnog - or is it his fifth? Truthfully, he's lost count at this point - and he'd woefully underestimated the potency of one sixteen-ounce pour of eggnog, let alone four or five of them.

(A rookie mistake, honestly, given that this year's Christmas party libations had been supplied by Black Star.)

Before he can think twice about it, he's swiping the green answer button and pressing his phone to the side of his face.

"'Sup?"

It's perhaps a bit too casual a greeting, considering he hasn't spoken to his brother in… months, now.

"Well, color me surprised," Wes chirps through the speaker, and Soul can't help how he cringes in response. "Is that you, little bro, or do my ears deceive me? I suppose I’ve simply forgotten what your voice sounds like, after all this time."

"…Should've sent you straight to voicemail."

"Oh, yes, voicemail, I love leaving those,” Wes hums thoughtfully. “Do you know, I’ve even taken to writing out my messages before I call you. Pity, I was quite excited about this one.”

Soul removes the phone from the side of his face and holds the top of it against his forehead as he draws in a long, slow breath, in part to dredge up his quickly dwindling patience, and in part in an effort to stop the room as it perilously spins around him.

Goddamn eggnog. Goddamn his brother.

When he holds the phone back up to his ear, he asks, as evenly as he can:

"What do you want, Wes?"

“I should think it's fairly obvious,” comes his brother’s reply. “I want to talk to you, Soul. If the fact that I continue to call you once per week despite your insistence on not answering doesn’t make that clear enough.”

"Alright," Soul leans backward against the kitchen counter and crosses one leg over the other. "So talk. Here I am."

Against all better judgment, he brings the red solo cup back to his lips and takes a hearty sip from the spiked eggnog sloshing around inside.

If he must converse with his older brother, maintaining his current level of intoxication will at least make it a tolerable experience.

“Jesus, Soul,” Wes laughs. “Don’t make it sound like talking to me is a death sentence, I just want to chat. What’s new, how’s life, how’s the… what is your title again? Death Knife?”

“Death Scythe.”

“Right! Silly me. How’s the Death Scythe thing going? No ulterior motives, I swear.”

Soul narrows his eyes in suspicion.

“I didn’t ask if you had any ulterior motives.”

Read the rest on Ao3!

[the-furthest-city-light]

This post is relates to the current chapters in my Fem!Luffy AU, so read if you want but feel free to scroll.

Sanji has this thing about masculinity and machismo born from a combination of a childhood spent being ridiculed for having emotions and being a Normal Human, and then being raised on the Baratie, which is full of guys who are kind but similarly gruff. He doesn't express vulnerability easily, and he's used to showing he cares in indirect ways that avoids the mortifying ordeal of being known so to speak, especially in relation to other men, and especially men his own age.

I think Sanji by nature of his weird chauvinism would view Luffy as a figure of respect much more quickly than he does Lucy. While he likes her and is probably kinder to her than he was Luffy to start, it’s probably not until around the end of Arlong Park in my fic where Sanji really gets it in his head that Lucy’s in charge and worthy of following, as opposed to the fight on the Baratie in canon. He's just never in his life experienced and trusted himself to a capable female authority figure before, and Luffy, being a guy, would be a much easier and more natural model of leadership for Sanji, regardless of Luffy/Lucy's similarities in personality.

By the time Whole Cake Island comes around, Sanji is on board with Lucy's leadership 100%. He's exactly as loyal to her as he is to Luffy. But since Sanji's conflict in Whole Cake Island centers around his emotional turmoil and his own long-buried trauma and fear, I think Lucy would have a distinct advantage in dealing with it from Luffy. By virtue of Luffy being a guy, Sanji puts on a pretty strong front throughout their various interactions in the arc. He’s not someone who likes to be vulnerable in general, but around other guys (especially Zoro) it’s really obvious that he’s someone who fronts with machismo and aims for stoicism he doesn’t actually feel.

I’m convinced that when confronted with the same emotional turmoil before Lucy, he would actually express that emotion more honestly and openly.  She's his captain and his friend yes, so he still feels that sense of loyalty and need for honesty, but she's also a girl. The need to front masculinity isn't there. For Sanji, women have always been sources of emotional comfort and a safe place to express himself, and I don’t think that would change just because she’s a kind of authority figure, especially when they have so much history proving Lucy's trustworthiness.

I do think Lucy's position as a female authority figure/friend in Sanji's life would do interesting things to his psyche following Whole Cake Island. I think he'd probably view her more fraternally than he was previously, or than he does with Nami and Robin, who are decidedly Women to Sanji, though of course the three of them are friends. I don't think his behavior would necessarily change much, but the way he thinks about her, possibly.

I initially started writing this AU because I was interested in how Luffy/Lucy's gender would affect their personal development, and to reflect more severely/honestly some of the dangers depicted in the one piece world. Sanji and Usopp have always been the characters I have the hardest time dealing with in this fic for different reasons, but with Sanji specifically it's because he's so weird about women that it's hard to imagine him respecting one enough to follow her the way he does Luffy. It's been fun to write scenes depicting why Lucy's gender is an advantage to her leadership rather than a hindrance, especially when it features Sanji.

New chapter to be posted in a bit :)

[notaghost3]

i have binged literally all of your fics and I NEED MORE THINGS OF YOURS TO READ! Do you have any obitine wips??? I NEED MOREEEE

Hi Anon! Um, wow *blushes* that is incredibly nice to hear and kinda just made my day *sobs* To answer your question though- yes I do have some Obitine WIPs! None of them are published though...and I don't have a timeframe for when I'll post them but I'm happy to let you in on a few of them!

Working on an angsty one-shot about the conception of Korkie after Qui-Gon's passing (I've been working on this one a while and I just keep re-writing it because I want it to be perfect and the vibes are not quite...there yet lol)

Another angsty one-shot based off of Peter from Taylor Swift's TTPD....I considered combining it with the one-shot above this one, but it deserves it's own one-shot! Mostly dealing with themes of regret and what if and all those good things that make up Obitine hehe

ANOTHER (can you tell I like to suffer?) angsty one-shot but THIS one is ModernAU based on the "Fourth of July" song by Sufjan Stevens (you know the one *cries*) with Obi-Wan keeping vigil by Satine's bedside in the hospital, and ultimately her deathbed, after a tragic accident.

A multi-chapter mini-series or maybe realllly long one-shot of the disaster trio plus Padmé and Satine that is basically Ahsoka, Anakin, and Padmé trying to sneakily find out if Korkie is Satine and Obi-Wan's son hehehe- fluff for a change!

Ok...this one is near and dear to me and is NO WHERE ready to be published but it has been living in my brain for like two years now and it is a multi-chapter slowburn 80s AU, centered around Obitine but told in dual timelines between the 60s and the 80s. However, I also have storylines for Anakin, Ahsoka, Dooku, Qui-Gon, Bo-Katan, Padmé...Palpatine- like it's basically a retelling but also not if you catch my drift haha, anyway that story doesn't have a title and it is my BABY and I can't wait to one day share it with the world (also taking name suggestions, maybe lolololol)

A Dark Obi-Wan one-shot...I bounce back between when exactly this story will be set timeline-wise in canon, and I have no outline yet, just vibes and a few scenes in my mind that HAUNT me

Ok, I think that's it; I have a whole doc full of ideas, but those are the ones closest to actually being written and published on AO3 anytime in the foreseeable future!!

[charleneferlay]

Alekos of nowhere, prince of nothing

“How do I look?” Kleitos smiles, teeth white in the midst of his black beard. “Fantastic,” he answers. “And to my brother,” I ask, “how will I look?” “Not fantastic, I guess,” my almost-uncle jokes. “You look like war.”

This short fic was initially posted on AO3! I have a lot of thoughts about the relationship between Arrhidaios and other members of his family, which usually don't fit into my main novel.

Under the cut: Alexandros and Arrhidaios after the battle of the Granicus.

Note: The scene takes place soon after Alexander crossed to Asia, right after the battle of the Granicus. While we don't get to see the battle in this fic, I picture it like Steven Pressfield did in his book The Virtues of War, in which every Persian that matters tried to have a go at killing Alexander.

***

The field parts for my horse. Boukephalas, my black monster, wide chested, covered in blood, sweat and dust.

A field of soldiers. Men packed as close as barley before the reaping. My men, cheering, their hands reaching out to touch my blood-soaked clothes and my armor. One shoulder piece is hanging at an odd angle, half cut from the rest by a sword slash to the chest; the crest, on my helmet, has been shaved by another. Their fingers brush against my thigh, soiled red by my own blood.

Red, red, red everywhere, and their voices deafen me.

I let Boukephalas carry me. He doesn’t prance, my brave companion; he’s too spent for that after the battle we had, and cut from half a dozen light cuts.

Victory.

My first battle against the Persians. Mine, no one will deny it. I listened to my officers and they fought well, but it’s my body throbbing from the hit of a mace, my blood that has dried in dark rivulets along my spear arm. I am the king, I made no secret of it – to me they rode, the magnificent lords of Persia, dozens of them rushing at me. Kill the king and the battle is done. Duel after duel I fought, friends falling all around me, friends saving me at every heartbeat.

Kill the king.

Praise the king.

And I think: father, are you proud? I am one step further to avenge you, one step further toward the throne room, that throne room of the King of kings where one can fit the whole palace of Pella.

Dark clouds above. I raise my eyes to the skies. I dream of rain, to clean the blood sticking to my face. Father, I think again, though this time it is not my mortal father I think of. Are you pleased? Am I worthy at least of the divine blood rushing in my veins?

 I am lightheaded, riding through a sea of hands and faces alight with savage happiness.

***

I reach the center of my camp.

I am a sack, a heavy sack full of blood and bones and flesh. I am so tired it takes Hephaistion and Kleitos both to help me slide down Boukephalas. My legs don’t carry me; what mad energy spurred me forward, forward, forward has deserted me. Have I lost too much blood? Ares clothed me in bloody purple. How much of it is mine?

I walk into my tent, weighting on my most trusted companion and the man I love like an uncle. There I crash in a chair and then fumble with the strap of my helmet. Fingers (not mine) untie all one can untie to get me out of my armor. Servants flock, like gulls on the corpses of dead fishes.

“How do I look?”

Kleitos smiles, teeth white in the midst of his black beard.

“Fantastic,” he answers.

“And to my brother,” I ask, “how will I look?”

“Not fantastic, I guess,” my almost-uncle jokes. “You look like war.”

Yes.

That is because, I am war. I am born for it, am I not, Father Zeus? You could have chosen a philosopher or an artist, but no: you made me as the son of Philippos. Tell me, do you like your new sword, now that you have abandoned your last one, broken and dead and betrayed at the very door of Asia?

I smile, and I feel empty.

I let the servants clean my skin. I am war, but there are places I will not go bearing the face of Ares. It is enough that the cuts remain on my spear arm, on my thighs, enough that my skin is turning into thunderous shades of purple.

“Enough,” I order.

I won’t get more presentable than this. Someone presents me with a cup full of kykeon – thick wine mixed with barley, honey and spices. I swallow the mixture with a grimace. I need the energy; the black juice of the grapes is so strong, despite everything else, that warmth shoots straight to my head.

I push the cup away.

“Tell my brother he may see me now.”

***

I am half naked when Arrhidaios is led into my tent, my physician checking my wounds. I wish I could hide the battlefield of my body from my brother – but that would be denying his bravery, and I will not take it away from him.

Arrhidaios doesn’t hide. He doesn’t know how, and this is why my father protected him with secrecy – why he made me swear, long before his death, that I would always stand between my brother and the world.

Arrhidaios doesn’t hide. Horror and fear and sadness shape his plump face. The face of Philippos of Makedon, rounder because of the layer of fat, and with eyes like windows baring his soul. It is always strange to see my father’s face with such innocence and openness. To see this face shocked by violence, shocked by my wounds.

But then, I remember, a long time ago, Arrhidaios begging our father to stay home. I don’t like it when you go to war, Pappas, please, war is dangerous, why do you keep going to war?

“I am well,” I greet him, to keep the tears out of his eyes. “Arrhi, dear, I am well.”

His huge steps swallow the space between us. Arrhidaios is the biggest man in our family. Tall, wide, he can make me disappear in the circle of his arms. Everything about him is soft. His belly, his chest, his arms. He is no warrior, travelling with my baggage train like a woman; I don’t care. I won’t tell anyone, and I can’t let him hug me like that too often, but I like that feeling of warmth.

In my world, everything is always sharp and tough, even Hephaistion; everything except my half-brother.

“You are bleeding,” he whimpers against my hair, sticky with sweat after hours under the helmet.

I nod and fall back into my chair. “Yes, but the physician says it’s nothing dire. Would you mind…”

“Yes, yes of course, Alekos.”

I smile a tired smile. People say Arrhidaios is dumb. Half-witted fool, they snicker behind my back. They should see him now. My brother is not bright, this is true. His mind is not a burning flame jumping from one thing to the other, like mine was when I was a child. It is more like an ox.

Moving slowly, but moving somewhere.

I wait as Arrhidaios prepares his tools. He absently hums a wordless song, an Illyrian song no one in the family knows the lyrics of. My grandmother sang it, a long time ago, to children who didn’t speak her language.

My brother is a healer. Not a very good one, granted. He has a good memory but slow hands. When he doesn’t hum, he repeats under his breath all the instructions he learnt by heart, from the books I sent him from Mieza, and then from the teachers my father paid for him when Arrhidaios asked for them. Whatever he wanted, my father always paid for – painting and sculpting lessons, toys, singing birds and a loom, music instruments and pet rabbits.

Today, none of my wounds require much competence. I lay back in my chair as Arrhidaios takes his time sewing one cut shut, applies salves and wraps bandages around me. He is slow, yes, but one would be hard pressed to find a kinder hand.

You look like war, Kleitos said.

Yes. I am war, and to most people, that is all I will ever be.

But to Arrhidaios?

“I don’t like when you fight,” he says, quiet and sad, taking my scared hand in his, soft, so soft. “I don’t like it when so many people want to harm you.”

He doesn’t ask me not to go. He asked Philippos so many times, and our father never listened; but then, why should I? The men of our family rarely die on the battlefield. It’s assassination I must fear, not fellow warriors rushing at me with their eyes full of Ares.

“I know. But don’t worry, we have them running. No one is going to try for a while now. We’ll be going down the coast to our fellow Hellenes cities. We’ll go to the theater together, would you like that?”

“Only if it’s a comedy,” Arrhidaios answers. “I don’t like to see you cry.”

I chuckle. “The tears the tragedies get from us are good tears.”

“Still tears,” he mumbles. “I want you to laugh, Alekos.”

“You are kind, but I do laugh, dear.”

“No,” he rebukes me. “Your eyes are always sad. It’s not a real laugh if your eyes remain sad.” He squeezes my hand. “Comedies. I want them funny and I want you to be happy.”

“Fine. Comedies, then. Comedies in every city we’ll visit, just for my dearest brother, and songs and jugglers. Hymns to happiness and spring and love.”

“Thank you,” he says, and then he rewards me with a very inappropriate bear hug. “I love you Alekos.”

And I love you too, dear. Because of all the men that follow me now, he is the only one who wants nothing from me. No glory, no loot, no power, no women, no honors.

Just I, Alekos of nowhere, prince of nothing.

[blackbird-brewster]

I was so disappointed when after they went home together the next episode basically just skipped over everything and hardly had Tara even in it! We spend WAY too much time with Garcia and I like her but I’m so over her plot with that guy. Plus all this time with JJ and Emily and it’s cute but Tara gets like 5 mins to be Rossi’s therapist? Ugh. I wish she’d gone to Emily and they’d talked about their issues and maybe JJ joined after. Idk it was just annoying waiting for a week to see what would happen between her and Rebecca only to get nothing. I think they’re either going to be randomly together at the end or they’ll act like it was a one time thing. I really hate that this is where they ended up. They should’ve had them meet at work slowly & slowly fall for each other but that would mean caring about the characters that doesn’t give a shit!

Hey, Anon? I love you. You have no idea how validated I feel by this ask. I seriously feel like I'm the only one who cares about Tara/Rebecca sometimes, which is WILD considering WE HAVE A CANON QUEER SHIP!!!! But a lot of the fandom would rather focus on dissecting every frame of the stoned Jemily chaos, than care about Tara/Rebecca. (Don't get me wrong, I love Jemily -- but I would have much rather had a scene or two of Tebecca than an entire episode of JJ/Emily)

I hate that Rebecca wasn't even in 17x06 after she and Tara went home together in 17x05. LIKE!?!?! WHAT HAPPENED??? I NEED TO KNOW ABOUT MY GIRLS!!! And I totally agree, there's been WAY too little Tara the last few eps. I hate that she was solely in 17x06 as Rossi's therapist, like dude, go to fucking therapy and stop milking the women on the team for emotional labour. I'm so tired of Rossi's man-pain bullshit. This whole reboot has been centered around him and Voit and --- FOR WHAT?!

I also agree that the whole Penelope love triangle is annoying af. They've ruined her character and this season she's just been used to be a point on contention between Tyler and Luke. I'm too gay and polyam to care about that bullshit.

Unfortunately, Rebecca isn't in this week's episode either. So once again, we'll have to wait to find out what happened after 17x05. And I suspect, because we don't see her for two episodes, by the time she appears in 17x08 she and Tara will be magically healed and back together. WHY can't we just get them having some adult conversations about everything, huh? WHY can't we get some screen time for these two incredible actors? We've had less than five minutes total of these two in scenes together (without other people in them).

I think in ALL of Season 16, Tebecca only got a total of 13 minutes of screen time. (I calculated it once, can't remember the exact total but it was there abouts)

YET, Will was a main fucking character last season. He was in EVERY fucking episode, went on the jet, went into the field, etc. Like????? (Yes, Rebecca did that this season, but she's still a very background character)

Since the show won't give Tara/Rebecca the storyline they deserve -- I'll do it myself. I'm working on my fifteenth Tebecca fic and I have more ideas on the to-do list.

I love them and it's become my sacred duty to protect this ship from canon fodder.