#Let me happy I finished some creative writing for once in my life okay

[my-name-is-jefferooni]

Reflection

I AM ON A GODDAMN ROLL TODAY HOLY SHIT OKAY UHMMM

This is a short little Drabble I just came up with in this moment, inspired by my latest character analysis reblog. You don’t have to read that honestly, because it is VERY VERY LONG, but if you want then you can! idk I mean I kinda like it so…

Anywhizzle, this drabble is basically just Sonic angst. Takes place in the IDW universe some time after the Metal Virus, maybe in my own au, it fits in both so it doesn’t matter. Sorry for stalling, and here it is:

———

Sonic doesn’t look in mirrors very often. Usually when he wants to fix up his appearance or if he just wants to know what he looks like, he’ll just head on down to the nearest pond and watch as his face wobbles along with the waves. It’s not much, and he does have to admit that more stable surfaces are better than water, but it’s just how he does things. Like the saying suggests, “If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it!”

This was the first time in a while he actually saw his reflection at all, actually. He was hanging out with Cream and Vanilla, helping the younger rabbit with her writing. Honestly, his writing looked way worse than hers, but nobody ever said anything so he never mentioned it. And when Vanilla came outside with a metal tray full of cookies, obviously the two of them cleaned off the whole dang thing! All that was left were a few measly crumbs and that was it!

Or… No, wait, there was something else, too. Something… Odd. Something blue in color and with splotches of peach as well, something spiky sticking out from the back of the head…

Oh. That was him. Sonic the Hedgehog.

… Right…?

The strange image confused the young hedgehog. The odd reflection in the tray didn’t look anything at all like him! It was more like a blue blob, or an imposter of some kind, taunting him. It grinned wide and maliciously, staring at Sonic with empty eyes. The sight almost made the hedgehog jump out of his seat in surprise! He kept himself from doing so, then politely excused himself from the table, in search of an actual mirror. Because, yeah, that totally wasn’t Sonic! That blue ball of nothing wasn’t him at all! It was just a trick of the light, a fantasy in his head, the texture of the tray! That was it, surely! No scary blobs in sight!

He entered the small bathroom down the hall and looked into the mirror.

Something else looked right back.

A dark blue hedgehog, probably about three feet tall, with pointed ears and scruffy quills that stuck out every which way. The eyes looked dull, nothing indicating any sense of life, with only a dark green iris and a pure black pupil in each one. The fur on the forehead was matted and ugly, stains of all kinds replacing the original blue coloring. The muzzle was far too long for it to be natural, the nose on its end practically touching the mirror! Speaking of which, the nose was completely black, no wet shimmering in sight, indicating a clear lack of proper health. Dark circles lay dormant underneath the eyes, showing how utterly exhausted and gone this strange creature truly was.

But that… That wasn’t Sonic, was it? He wasn’t halfway to death’s door, was he? Sonic the Hedgehog was a world-renowned hero! A figurehead in practically every community! Everyone on Mobius knows of him, everyone looks up to him, everyone loves him! He’s got everything he could’ve ever wanted and more! Friends, a mismatched family, a life, freedom, peace and quiet…

Did he? Yeah, of course he had all that! He’s literally Sonic the Hedgehog! No one has a better life than him! Who else has the ability to go out into the world and be as free as the wind? Who else gets the chance to kick some angry fatso in the head with his own machinery? Who else gets to keep running and running and running and running and running and running and running and running and running and running and running and running and running and running and running and ru

Sonic stands there, staring at his reflection. It IS his reflection, isn’t it? He is tired, still trying to properly recover from the Metal Virus. (Even the thought of that dreadful time made his stomach squirm) Sonic still hasn’t showered in a while, so of course he’d be a bit on the uglier side. He is a bit on edge, still learning to not trust as easily as he did before. He is slightly malnourished, not wanting to be greedy and waste more food than necessary.

But… But is that really him? Does Sonic really looks so… Unwell? So overhelmed? So unkempt? So scared, so sad, so dead inside?

He stares back at the image in the mirror, glaring daggers at the darker version of himself. No, this could not be the same hedgehog. The real Sonic is cheerful, happy to be alive, happy to have such great friends, happy that he has such great opportunities! He’s thankful, he’s kind, and he would never ask for anything more.

The hedgehog in the mirror begs to differ. Its head tilts to the side, mocking Sonic’s thoughts, grinning from ear to ear as it analyzes its counterpart. Not a word is spoken from either being, for there are none that need saying. They just continue staring into each other's eyes, trying to one-up the other without even lifting a finger.

Sonic gets tired of it after only a minute, a pathetic little yawn escaping his lips and his eyes drooping in exhaustion. He rubs his eyes angrily, knowing the version of himself in the mirror has already won. But when he looks back, the being is no longer grinning.

It still looks the same, but… But it’s also still Sonic.

…

He exits the bathroom, turning the light off behind him, not wanting to look in the mirror any longer.

[crepesuzette2023]

Hi! Because someone just asked me, I'd love you hear your Top 5 favourite McLennon fics!

You made my day! Nothing could have made me happier than this ask.

I'm not going to evade your question. I will post my top-five, even though it hurts to choose. But you inspired me to finally write a longer (okay: very long) post about some (not nearly all!) of my favorites, which will be under the cut.

(Sorry for not knowing every writer's tumblr, by the way. Please feel free to let me know, so I can tag authors where appropriate. Thank you!)

My Top 5:

MIRACLE WORKER by @scurator. What can I say. Every time I need my heart broken and to feel an inkling of what grace truly means, I go to this masterpiece about Paul and Robert Fraser finding each other again at Cavendish in 1981.

COAST STARLIGHT by bookofapril is "Miracle Worker's" cosmic twin. The sun to its night. Paul and Robert Fraser on Fire Island in 1974. Nothing I can say will do it justice, so I won't try. This is the "other world" conjured in "Tug of War," so powerfully and joyfully imagined, it's real. (I'm always thinking of this story, but I did so extra hard when I came across a prompt recently: 'They aren't each other's first love, but they're each other's true love'.)

SAME AS IT EVER WAS by RedheadAmongWolves. My favorite Outsider's POV. An ageing newsstand owner from Liverpool remembers John and Paul as boys and young men. There's something magical about the relationship coming alive in these glimpses. A story filled with tenderness that reminds me to always look closely.

AN ORGASM OF SOUND by @pauls1967moustache. The insanity of John and Paul in 1967 got the tribute it deserves. I sleep easier since I read this story. It feels cosmically right that it exists.

PLANT A SEED by @eveepe. Paul in his slutty sailor outfit in Miami. He and John are into each other, and happy, and fuck slowly. Afterwards, Paul has an idea for a new song. That's it. Tender, glorious, hot perfection. Apply at least once a week for best results.

For more thoughts about some of my favorite stories, sorted into very much defined-ad-hoc categories, read under the cut.

Young Love:

I love the myth of their first meeting, and stories that speculate about the sexually loaded creative fireworks/gritty jealousies/tentative hand-holding/topping and tailing during the first years. Here are some faves:

Paul finds music, and John, and his life is changing. In STREETS OF OUR TOWN (@with-eyes-closed) you can taste the upheaval and promise of first love and growing up. Deeply sensual, even without on-page sex. The shaky, sweet, and all-consuming fire of John and Paul’s first kiss is immortalized in ALL I KNOW SINCE YESTERDAY (RedheadAmongWolves). In NON NOBIS SOLUM (@downtothe-lastdrop), art student John simply has to know how far grammar school boy Paul will go to please him. But Paul matches him play-by-play. In THE CAST IRON SHORE (@m1ssunderstanding) Paul earns extra money through music and sex. John finds out. They fall in love, and hide their mutual pining behind transactions—but in the end, they man up to pair up, and get their band back on track. (The first part is finished; I can’t wait for part 2.) John and Paul’s ’61 trip to Paris has been honored in fiction many times; WHEN YOU ARE YOUNG THEY ASSUME YOU KNOW NOTHING (@lilypadd23) is a slow-burning, blessedly long story that blossoms sweetly. DON’T THINK ABOUT IT is the concept by which Paul measures both his pining for John and their deeply satisfying (but surely not really queer?!) sex life. Perfectly realized Paul POV by @merseydreams. Finally: I NEED YOU DARLIN’ (verse) (by @beatlessideblog) would have fit many categories, but I put it here, because in the end, it’s about young John and Paul becoming friends, making music, having sex, and falling in love. No more, no less. Embedded in a late 50’s/early 60's Liverpool omegaverse in which there's a place for their bond. But, surprise (?!): It’s still complicated. I can’t overstate how charming and satisfying and funny and hot this work is.

Old John and Paul:

Is there anything as lovely as imagining John and Paul growing old together?

In HERE TODAY (@herspecialagent), John and Paul found happiness with each other in Scotland. On 8th December 1980, they invite friends for a party, and fight an inexplicable sense of doom. A reminder that our other lives can be closer than we think, and to keep our loved ones even closer.

GROW OLD WITH ME (@inherownwr1te): Old farmers and husbands John and Paul enjoy domestic bliss, deal with a broken arm, and make sweet love.

HAVING COFFEE (@feathersandblue): John Lennon and Paul McCartney, “one of the most iconic gay couples in history,” look back on their early love, the Beatles, and being outed in the 80’s, in this oh-so-glamourous, well-written 2020 portrait…

Magical re-tellings of J/P and/or the Beatles Story:

No matter where you come down on the blessed vs. cursed continuum—they were living through something magical.

In KISSING THE BLARNEY (@zilabee) the Beatles draw love and music from kissing Paul, and each other, until the stupid world interferes. But fear not, all ends well. How to tell the truth through whimsy: this story demonstrates it.

In WE ARE ALL TOGETHER (also by @zilabee), John and Paul switch bodies. It helps.

I WAS A YOUNGER MAN NOW (THEN) (POST HOC) BY @fingersfallingupwards: Paul is a time traveler and braids his life together with John’s, out of order, through the years. And yes, they do grow old together—but not without losing each other first. I’m in awe of this story.

A darker time-traveling story is A MATTER OF TIME (D12Fan), in which John and Paul love each other, over and over, and never manage to make it work—but Paul won’t give up.

FOR THOUGH THEY MAY BE PARTED (@downtothe-lastdrop): The misery of the 'Get Back' sessions and memory-stunting technology imported from “Severance” are not enough to kill off John and Paul’s attraction and longing for each other. Again, this is basically what happened, so.

John and Paul without the Beatles?

Yes, please! Sometimes, the best way to dissect and celebrate (and fix?) this mesmerizing and exasperating partnership is to lift it from its context and drop it elsewhere. Anything goes.

WHATEVER FATE DECREES by @dailyhowl: A gorgeous, finely spun, securely handled, self-contained vision of how John and Paul could have worked as artists in love, without a band to 'legitimize' and constrain their bond. I love this homage to their deep and complicated love that needed trust and breathing room.

1967 by @walkuntilthedaylight: What if John and Paul had gone to Spain together and not come back? This story not only explores their relationship layer by layer, it also dives into the the feelings of those who knew them 'before' and who now meet them again, as a couple. A fascinating alternate history. Not a fluffy one.

TOMORROW I'LL MISS YOU (@pauls1967moustache): Paul abandons John in Hamburg—or John stays behind without bothering to write, depending on who you ask. This "Before Sunset"—AU reunites them, years later. They ride a bus and write a song, and the love and tension are sweet and painful.

DOUBLE FANTASY (by @javelinbk): Modern AU in which John and Paul meet at John's flower shop and manage to ignore and creatively re-interpret their feelings for one another for a surprising amount of time, before fate has mercy. I love how their sweet, well-matched eccentricity makes the world a warmer place for both of them.

WE ARE STARDUST (Unchained_Daisychain): AU. John and Paul meet at Woodstock, fall hard and fast for each other, and have to decide what to do with it: Paul's life is back home in England...except...

Angst, darkness, and courage:

Pain, fear, grief, and other dark emotions are part of the real J/P story, so it makes sense to honor and harvest them in fiction. One of my favorite brands of McLennon angst is the one triggered by their feelings for each other, and the thing they become once they're together™. When they're scared of how much they need each other, and of what will happen next.

ONE AND ONE AND ONE IS THREE and MANAGING EXPECTATIONS (both by @pauls1967moustache), for instance. The first is a terrifying threesome with Yoko (at John's instigation, of course), in which trust is never rewarded and sex resolves nothing. The second is Paul wondering, in thoughts both messy and crystal clear, whether he exists independently of John. He turns to Brian for answers. They fuck. It feels like a human thing compared to what is going on in Paul's mind. Just astounding.

SUNDAY DRIVER (@boshemians) dives into the theme of Paul and John being afraid of themselves in the aftermath of Paul's accident (moped, sexual) with Tara Browne. This one, like "Managing Expectations," ends on a lovely grace note.

MACABRE (@dovetailjoints). Lennon and McCartney go too far.

OPEN HEART (@paisanas). Paul drinks John's blood. John lets him. But Paul starts to hate himself for how much he needs John, which John feels as rejection. I love how this story ends on Paul embracing his need. You can see the painful, bare bones of their malnourished love under the lush sensuality of the vampire sex. Raw and rich.

SILENCE (@ohjohnnysblog). Short and piercing. If there is someone you love—tell them. Don't wait.

THE LATE, GREAT JOHNNY ACE (@midchelle). Reeling with grief, Paul is recording an album in 1981. George and Ringo are there. John is not. But in the end—he is. And they touch. I've always admired Paul's resilience in the face of having to perform or "prove" his love of John in public, and this story showed me, without sugar-coating, where this resilience comes from.

Light, hope, and fixing things:

There is also much lightness and brightness in McLennon, because John and Paul were ridiculous, and horny, and weird. And also: they deserve a laugh. They deserve the fluffiest of happy endings. They deserve high-quality, life-affirming smut. They deserve silly, because silly is what they were. You know their names, look up their number.

1980. John is in BERMUDA (@scurator), Paul visits. Paul comes prepared, John just comes. Sometimes, it can be this simple. This story always leaves me in such a good mood. Paul is the (more) experienced one, and it...really works for me.

GOT TO GET DOWN (@eveepe): In praise of John's obsession with Paul's...precious. His small and perfect prick.

ADVENTURES IN TOTAL HONESTY (@merseydreams). Pithy and sexy, and, I quote from the tags: #Excessive Margarita Mixing.

ANINUT (@pauls1967moustache): The Beatles heal, together and separately, after Brian's death. Once more, I quote the writer: "The Beatles did not follow any of the Jewish mourning traditions, and frankly, they should have."

The unhinged weirdness of the Mad Day Out, with John and Paul escaping and Francie, Yoko and Mal not missing them...much, is rightfully celebrated in one of the insaner stories I read: JOHN, I'M ONLY DANCING (@skylikeaflame)

FAIR'S FAIR (@javelinbk): John and Paul are being silly during a press conference, resulting in acute arousal requiring John's skilled intervention. I love the unexpected care and tenderness in this one!

WHERE THE POETS WENT (RedheadAmongWolves): Tender and enchanted story in which Paul and John go to a bookstore, where they're not as famous as everywhere else. As delicate as the chiming doorbells and the pages murmuring around them.

TAKEN AWAY (@crumblingcookies) Extraterrestrial Intelligence intervenes to reunite John and Paul.

CAN I TAKE MY FRIEND TO BED? (manhattanvalleys). Paul fucks the band in sequence and gets off in the end, as is his due. This is a story like Prince's KISS. No filler, all effect.

THEY SAY IT'S YOUR BIRTHDAY (@ohjohnnysblog). Warm and nostalgic phone sex in the 70's.

KEEP THE LIGHT WE'RE GIVEN (@backbenttulips). Amidst the rise of Beatlemania, Paul and John expect their first child. This is Paul's 1962 diary.

More Outsider POV's:

STILL MATES (@pauls1967moustache): in 1968, Peter Asher takes the leap to act on his feelings for his sister's spiraling ex fiancé. This isn't about Paul as much as about Peter, and who he wants to be. Gutting character study. It made me love Peter.

ANOTHER GIRL (@boshemians): Astrid reunites with the Beatles during the making of AHDN and registers their words and deeds with the same stark objectivity as her camera. I love how she seeks the shelter of obscurity while they are being dragged into the limelight. But she sees them, wherever they are. J/P in this story feels incredibly real to me.

WHY BUY THE COW (RedheadAmongWolves). The milkman sees everything on his early morning rounds: the arrival of a nice new family, the McCartneys, the mother's illness, the sadness after her death...and the arrival of a new love in the older son's life. He shouldn't approve—should say something, in fact. But a small inner voice holds him back.

SLEEPLESS IN WALES (thinkpink20). Mike overhears Paul and John whisper in bed. He doesn't understand everything they say. I do. Adorable.

Not each other's first love, but each other's true love

THIS YEAR'S FOR ME AND YOU (@skylikeaflame): After a long life, after deep and loving partnerships with other people, John and Paul, encouraged by their grown-up children, finally meet their mutual love head on. A festive story about waiting the perfect amount of time.

THERE ARE ALWAYS FLOWERS (tarenas): The Beatles are in the past; John and Paul's love is in ashes. Paul, who is fragile and bereft, lives with George, who is content. The four ex-Beatles unite for the second wedding of Mike McCartney. At times, the aching grief in this story is almost unbearable. But the love between George and Paul is unusual and real. This is unfinished. I'll keep waiting for the final chapter.

Beyond J/P

WANT ME WHEN I'M NOT THERE (@backbenttulips): Linda catches Paul cheating on her with John. She divorces him. Finally: a story that puts her most likely reaction front and center, with no mercy for the messed-up geniuses.

In the Rebecca-AU LOVE LIKE GHOSTS (@backbenttulips), Yoko becomes Mrs. Lennon. Soon, she discovers that her husband is haunted by the ghost of his first love. It's pleasing how well this re-telling matches the events as they (alas) (almost) happened. The ending is chilling. Genuinely horrifying. I love seeing Yoko as the sensible one and as the focus of empathy.

THE BASS LESSON (@aquarianshift). Paul and Stu fool around without letting go of their mutual resentment for even a moment. And it works. "Let's never do this again." I don't think so.

TELL ME ALL MY LOVE'S IN VAIN (@midchelle). Forget about quote unquote platonically obsessed male rock stars: This about about Maureen and Patti through the years. The web weaving continues.

SPOTLIGHT ON JOHN AND STU (@dailyhowl) A love story in letters—too brief, like Stu's life, but sounding as if the writer transcribed their dictation. Some of the best descriptions of what it must have been like to play on stage with the Beatles during the mania are in NO I IN THREESOME (@with-eyes-closed). George finds himself in the beam of attention between John and Paul, and nearly loses his mind. But he's determined to stay and become part of them. Paul is daddy and "fucks like music" as seen through George's eyes. The whole story is vicious and hot and uncomfortable—until there's the love and quiet at the eye of the storm.

Not for the faint of heart! WHAT THE CIGGIE CARTON SAW (@waveofhand): Paul McCartney having his way with cigarettes.

This is getting out of hand...but I'll stop here. There are so many more stories I love. And I can think of many other categories that would deserve their own post.

So, who knows: To be continued?

[binsito]

I literally love your fics so much. They be having my toes curling n shit😫I was thinking about how skz would get caught having sex. I just think about getting fucked by one of the members and then somebody walking in 🤗 (I totally don’t have a kink for this) (I’m lying) (I totally don’t want you to write an ot8 thought about this) (I’m lying again)

oh god.. YUMMMMMMM (it's okay anon... me too) i took some creative liberty with these so not all of them are explicitly about getting caught in the act but playing with the idea of it possibly happening due to something risque hehe

warning: usage of pet names such as "baby", "good girl", "princess" as well as degradation such as "stupid slut," etc. han's story deals with stepcest but they are adults and their parents married each other, there is themes of exhibitionism and voyeurism in all of them for the most part, unprotected sex, dirty talk, oral (m and f receiving) in some, hyunjin's story deals with him being an ex and you encountering him again while on a double date, minho has very slight themes of dubcon, please let me know if i missed anything major.

again these themes are not for everyone so please skip if uncomfortable but remember to not kink shame and respect others, thank uuu!!!

bangchan: "shut up, stupid slut.. they're gonna hear me fucking you dumb if you keep making noise!" he grunts in your ear. he had you over his desk, hand around your throat as he took you from behind.

his pace going agonizingly slow whenever he thought you were being too loud just to punish you.

but the thing is..

channie wouldn't mind getting caught. the mere idea had arousal coursing through him. what if changbin popped in saying he forgot something only to see chan balls deep inside you?

or what if jisung needed to work on some lyrics?

maybe chan would ask him to stay until he finished so he could help him out, not minding the extra pair of eyes. maybe the pretty sight would inspire him to write the best lyrics of his fucking life.

if that's what it took to get over the occasional songwriting block, channie had no issue letting his boys catch him pumping you full of cock.

minho: leeknow doesnt care one bit if someone walks in

if anything it makes him fuck you harder.

“you swear they won’t be back till later, baby?” you ask him, of course he says yes, swears on his life even.

but you knew better than to believe him, he lied straight through his teeth.

when he has you on all fours, face buried in your cunt, he can’t help but grin against your pretty little pussy knowing his friends would be home soon.

sheathing his cock deep inside you because you kept whining for him to just put it in already. 

“whatever you want, princess..”

and you should’ve known he was up to no good because more often than not, he would make you work for it. he liked to tease you, have you beg, cry until you couldn’t take it anymore.

but his cock was just too good for you to care, happy that he had a change of heart for once and was fucking you into his sheets so good.

you couldn’t hear the door creak open over your moans, couldn’t feel curious eyes peering on your puffy cunt and how it was sucking minho in so perfectly.

minho was putting on a show for his friends, pretending like he wasn’t aware they were watching, grabbing a fistful of your hair to pull you back slightly, your back arching for him. he couldn’t wait to fill your pussy for everyone to see. he hoped they saw how dumb you were on his cock, that they would think about you when they touch themselves later.

changbin: changbin never knew how turned on he would be after being caught until it happened. it never crossed his mind that the thrill would make his cock swell with excitement.

hyunjin thinking he was gone and going into his room only to see you riding him on his rolling chair.

changbin warned you!

told you hyune was probably home and painting one of his pretty flowers.

told you to shut up if you wanted to take his cock or he would pull out, but he got so lost in the feeling of your warm walls around him that he totally forgot about keeping quiet himself.

hyunjin simply wanted to put back something he borrowed but was met with the two of you, changbin's pace not relenting after being caught. hyunjin couldn't move from his spot by the door, watching as changbin whimpered that he was going to cum.

and hyunjin was mesmerized by the thick ropes of cum spurting and spilling out of your hole, how changbin desperately tried making you keep it all. maybe next time changbin would invite hyunjin to watch for longer, maybe even paint what he sees so he could add it to his figure drawing portfolio.

hyunjin: fuck, you wanted him.

wanted him so goddamn bad.

so bad that you were willing to put aside all your morals for this man.

you knew you shouldn't.

shouldn't let him whisper all those tempting promises of pure fucking pleasure, not while you sat across your date. hyunjin was an ex who was unfortunately best friends with the guy you had been seeing. it was nothing serious as of now, quite casual. you weren't even sure how far this relationship would go but as soon as hyunjin offered to skip dinner and go straight to dessert, you threw away any scrap of dignity you had left and excused yourself from the table.

hyunjin followed suit a while later, leaving behind the girl his friend had tried setting him up, way more interested in what you had to offer. things didn't end badly between the two of you per say, but you both had a lot of maturing to do. the relationship was fiery and you knew it was too much too handle so early on in your life.

now however, all you wanted was his lips to work on your clit while your date waited outside cluelessly.

"missed me?" he mumbled into your folds before nipping them teasingly.

"shit.. hyunjin w-what if he-"

but he just smiled, knowing you didn't want him to stop either way.

"don't worry princess, i'll make it quick if you behave.. just bear with me."

you knew better than to act like a brat right now, you didn't even know how much time you had before your date would start to suspect something was up.

hyunjin licking at your hole with the thought of being caught all added to your intense orgasm. creaming all over hyunjin's tongue as he lapped it eagerly. there was nothing he loved more than the taste of your sweet cum.

"everything alright in there?" your date knocked which made hyunjin quickly cover your mouth.

instead of stopping, he decided it would be the perfect moment to pull his slacks off and line himself up with your hole.

"y-yes! i-i.. fuck.. be out soon!"

han: if your mom knew what you were doing, she'd absolutely lose her shit.

the same would go for han jisung's father who now happened to be married to your mother.

this wasn't the kind of bonding they anticipated the two of you would have when they planned a weekend family trip once summer classes let out.

but to your defense, they never explicitly stated what kind of bonding was or wasn't allowed. you gave yourself the liberty to interpret it as you wished.

your wish being getting fucked stupid while your parents went out for a stroll on the beach early that morning. thank god they thought it would be a splendid idea to make you two share a room while on vacation.

jisung had woken up with morning wood and you wanted nothing more than to take it in your mouth. you wanted to feel how hard it was deep inside you. and han jisung would be silly to turn down the offer. ever since he laid eyes on you, he wanted to have you bent in every position he could imagine.

but you had to be quick.

god knows when your parents would be back.

you two didn't waste any time.

legs thrown over his shoulder so he could carve his cock deep inside your pussy, hands squeezing your tits together and watching as they spilled from between his fingers. they could be home any minute now but han jisung wouldn't stop until he came inside you and left you full.

and he was going to do it all over again once they'd go to bed. he might even prep you beforehand, fingering you under the dinner table without anyone having a clue.

felix: you were needy and felix had decided to be mean and go live on his instagram.

how could he?

all you wanted was to play with him a little before bed..

you were very explicit with your desires, letting him know beforehand that you wanted to have sex. you knew he was doing this on purpose to mess with you.

however, he had no idea that you would get on your knees in front of him, pulling his cock out from under his shorts to take him in your mouth.

he knew he couldn't react.

couldn't make a scene in the middle of his live and alarm anyone watching.

fuck, if only they knew how good you were working on his cock while he tried talking about what he had for lunch.

felix would never live it down if people found out what was going on (however, it was making his toes curl thinking about how clueless everyone was, how he could easily give himself away with a moan or if you decided to suck on him a little too loudly).

and when he cums, he tries so hard to play off his facial expressions as a yawn, but in reality he's creaming in your pretty little mouth, gripping your hair to hold you all the way down to his base

"g'night everyone.." hastily ending the live so he can teach you a lesson.

seungmin: it's not your fault your brother's best friend was so incredibly hot.

you were well aware how upset he would be if he caught you two, but he just doesn't understand!

he wouldn't understand how fucking amazing sex with seungmin was. how spontaneous and confident he was.

seungmin was bold.

seungmin was unafraid.

he'd ask you to sit besides him during movies so he could play with your pussy under the blanket, all while your brother sat mere feet away.

he'd ask you to give his cock a quick suck if he was in the kitchen grabbing a beer and you so happened to be there at the same time, your brother patiently waiting for him back upstairs.

but today he had gotten the idea to fuck you behind the baseball field's bleachers after he had finished practice.

your brother had gone to his truck to load the equipment back and seungmin just had to have you before he was back.

"come on.. trust me." he purred in your ear.

you knew your brother had his hands full at the moment, too busy making sure the pitching machine was strapped in properly to keep it from sliding in his trunk.

so you took seungmin's word and trusted him like you always did. his thick cock breaching your tight hole, no matter how many times he fucked you, the stretch always made your legs buckle.

his big hands gripped your hips as you clung to the bleacher for dear life. cock pumping mercilessly into you and leaving you stuffed.

his cum dripping down your legs just as he could make the faint figure of your brother approaching from parking lot.

you hoped he couldn't hear the both of you going at it from over there.

jeongin: he was bored out of his mind.

who's idea was it to take a school trip over the weekend? thank god it was his last semester and he would be done with all these class commitments for good.

the trip was long and exhausting but at least he had you.

there weren't that many students on this trip because this was a higher research class and most people would rather have a life outside of college. you being jeongin's girlfriend, pushed him to try a little harder before he graduated.

how could he say no when you motivated him with such a sweet smile? when he saw how interested you were in your major and how hard you worked? jeongin wished he could be a little like you sometimes, so disciplined and curious.

by now most people had dozed off, at least the bus was one of those nice coach ones.

jeongin just couldn't fall asleep no matter how hard he tried.

"baby?.. we still have three more hours until we get there.. why don't you just take a nap?"

"don't feel like it.. not tired.."

he could be such a kid sometimes, never wanting to take naps. it made you giggle as you shook your head

"stay up with me a bit, baby?.. everyone's asleep.."

god, you knew exactly by the tone in his voice what he was thinking of.

"jeongin-"

"just lay on my lap and pretend you're sleeping.. we're in the back, i'll keep an eye out. no one's gonna know.."

before you could even agree, he was already pulling his cock out just enough for you to be able to suck on him.

just like the good girl you always were to him, you laid down as comfortably as you could and took him in your mouth.

dropping him out of your mouth whenever you thought you heard any shuffling but jeongin would reassure you and guide his cock back through your pretty lips.

"relax baby.. just be good okay?.. that's right.. give me that mouth of yours.." he groaned quietly once you started to sloppily bob on him.

please refrain from reposting, modifying, translating, copying or stealing my work. - © binsito

[storybookprincess]

20 questions for fic writers!!!!!!!!! tagged by @ilgaksu (yes, we HAVE been mutuals since the dawn of time & yes we HAVE diverged fandoms wildly and yes we DO deserve this as a treat!!!!!!)

1. How many fics do you have on AO3?

87………… dear god……

2. What’s your total AO3 word count?

377,923

dear god……….. take 2!!

3. What fandoms do you write for?

pretty exclusively animanga fandoms these days. hunter x hunter has been my home base for a while, but i dabble in other series too!!!

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

personally i don’t enjoy discussing stats (outside of word count) because i think it encourages comparison, even if unintentionally, and i used to struggle a lot with that. sort by kudos exists for the curious, of course, but i don’t want to go out of my way to emphasize stats

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

oh gosh, i used to be RELIGIOUS about replying to every single comment i received, but that's since become a bit unmanageable with my current work & life schedule. i'd like to get back to replying at least a little bit, though!!

6. What is a fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

i'm a happy ending girl through & through so i think the closest i have to an angsty ending is this tiny lil 1k leopika oneshot i wrote for the greed island server!!!

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

what i'm getting from these questions so far is that i do not remember my own fics very well anymore & might want to go revisit them someday bc i am struggling to answer this one!!

that being said, i am a bit fond of this one from facts about stones, which was my big bang fic this year!!

“Let’s stay together.  For as long as you’ll have me.” “Forever, then,” Gon replies. Killua used to hate the thought of forever.  Life was something to be survived: minute to minute, second to second, breath to breath.  If his mind ever wandered further into the future than a few days, a sick, dizzy feeling would overtake him; the thought of this misery stretching on, gray and endless, was more than he could tolerate. But now, as Gon leaps over that very creek they’d played in so many times with a loud whoop, Killua finds that something has changed. “Longer,” he says. “Forever would be too short a time.” “Okay,” Gon agrees, a smile in his voice. “You and me. Forever, and then what comes after.”

8. Do you get hate on fics?

i was about to say that i've been fortunate enough never to get a hate comment BUT THEN i remembered how someone once wrote me a five paragraph essay (i'm not kidding) about how a character's behavior in a fic didn't make sense & was poorly written. god that was incredible

but on the whole, no, i'm quite quite lucky that i don't receive much negativity

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

not yet..............

10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written?

i'm a very boring person & thus don't vibe particularly much with crossovers. the most i've done is like........ very vaguely fairy tale inspired aus & the like. i wish i were a more adventurous writer bc some of the stuff people come up with in crossovers is ridiculously creative

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

not a whole fic, but back in my bnha days, i had someone lift a scene literally beat for beat from a tddk fic of mine. i was a lot younger & less experienced in the fandom space back then, so i'm very glad, although perhaps a bit surprised, that i just closed the tab & moved on. life's too short to stress over that sort of thing

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

yes, one into russian & one into spanish on wattpad!!!!!! they both felt like such huge honors!!!!!!

13. What’s your all-time favorite ship?

i could pretend to give this some thought & come to a difficult decision, but it's killugon. it's far & away killugon. let's not kid ourselves here

14. What’s a wip you want to finish, but doubt you ever will?

color in your cheeks

i think the idea has a ton of potential, but my execution of the first two chapters strikes me as rushed & impatient & a bit sloppy as a result. i think my only option is rewriting it from scratch so i can have a product i'm satisfied with

15. What are your writing strengths?

i pay a ton of attention to the flow of my prose & really endeavor for the sentences to have a lyrical quality. outside of syntax, i think i'm quite good at describing physical & emotional experiences extremely vividly

16. What are your writing weaknesses?

well well well, if it isn't my old nemesis, actually having a plot....... we meet again

17. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?

i don't have enough fluency in my non-native languages to pull this off & i find it challenging as a reader, but i think just about any choice or device can work if it's serving a narrative purpose & doing so effectively

18. First fandom you wrote for?

the year: 2008

the platform: fanfiction.net

the fandom: rent

listen we all start somewhere & i had a BLAST writing those silly little musical theatre fics, even if both they & the source material don't hold up 15 years later

19. Favorite fic you’ve written?

i worked so hard on it that i just have to go with divine magnets

am i missing a question???????? is this really only 19????? i'm so confused!!!!!!!! anyway tagging @ladycrescentvenus @clood @carochinha @chubsthehamster and @anyone else who wants to do this just say i tagged you!!!!

[cookinguptales]

Hello, hi! I read your year in review post, and it inspired me to come say hello. I fell off Tumblr a few years ago and have tentatively crawled back over the last few months (honestly, it was the Goncharov craze that got me nostalgic for Tumblr again - I love Tumblr memes). I was really happy to see that you were active here and still writing fic for a new fandom that I also love!

I wanted to let you know that I'm a huge fan of your work and still am even after all these years! Your writing is so thoughtful and detailed, with a warmth and sincerity that makes it far too easy to consume a lot all at once, like a big mug of hot chocolate that you finish too quickly. Not just your creative writing, but your nonfiction blogging on fandom and health accessibility and travel too! I still go back and re-read some of my favorite fics you wrote when I'm feeling the itch to indulge in an old fandom! I had a big Muppet deep dive because I loved your fic so much, and now I go to work every day at a desk covered in Kermit stickers!

And I should have told you all of this a while ago. I regretted not reaching out for a long time. But now I have! And I hope you're okay with me being all mushy and earnest (how cringe!) out here in the open. If you don't want to post a response, I'm fine with that. I'm happy to just say hi, and I hope that my message brings you some joy/pride/whatever you need right now. Wishing you Merry Holidays and a Happy New Year!

Sorry for the delay! Life has kind of been a lot lately!

This is very sweet to hear, especially because... yeah, things have been a lot, and I've been struggling with feeling really down on myself. So thank you. Hearing that my fic feels like that makes me really happy. ;;

My dad literally just emailed me about a Bunsen & Beaker ornament set he found, so clearly I'm still into them. (I... bought it, too. haha. This is not even my only Bunsen & Beaker ornament.) The Muppets are a real comfort canon for me, so I'm really happy that I was able to share some of that with you.

Honestly, there's something that feels very... idk, genuine about writing and posting fanfic for me. I think fiction only works if you really give yourself over to it, whether that's getting really engrossed in the emotions of fictional characters as the writer or as the person reading it. I don't think it's cringe to be earnest about your feelings. What's the point, really, in being anything but earnest about them? I think it's nice to be able to be genuine about these things. So thank you for being genuine with me. I know that can feel a little vulnerable sometimes.

As for your second ask, which I also saw, anyone is free to DM me whenever they want. I'm not always... super great at responding promptly, especially right now. But yeah, we may not be friends yet, but talking is the only way to get closer. :)

(And you'll have to tell me what the new fandom we share is!)

[ignisregina]

Do you have any ships for Marianne or Daighre? If you do, would you like to gush about them?

i woke up to this (two days ago lol) and was like 'whoa don't give me too much platform about this topic' hahaha

okay just IM GIVING YOU ONE LAST CHANCE TO BACK OUT lol no too late for that. this isn't just romantic ships but also friendships because uwu i love it when someone adopts marianne.

aight so fiiiirst, @dcwnthercbbithcle IDK MAN, I THINK WE'VE BEEN FOLLOWING EACH OTHER FOREVER why did we just talk now coz Fiadh and my baby just clicked together so well. i'm always super happy to find muses that are involved in the cycle one verse coz i think marianne is somehow a different person back then living a different life altogether. it's a pretty confined life, yes, and that's why i'm so happy she has fiadh aka literal force of nature. i think bunni just knows how to talk to me coz we just keep yelling back and forth at each other about daighre and fiadh and it's all fun and games until your bestie chooses to kick the bucket on you after all you've been through - literal lore getting written because of their shenanigans, going through a war and grief, balancing their domains and friendship together, and then she's gone and you have to go through your long lame life alone. and the best part is meeting again in the future and knowing things have changed between them but they're kinda clinging to some semblance of the past, one because she remembers, the other coz she does not. HAVE YOU SEEN THE LONG HEADCANONS BUNNI WRITES FOR THEM I CANNOT I AM CRY

next is allie. i'm so thankful for @wildcxrds for being marianne's first bestie when she got back in the rp scene. i love this because they share the same element - fire - but have veeery different dispositions. where marianne is temperamental, allie is patient. where marianne is quick to anger, allie is all patience. and extra points because allie is an orphan and yet she's the one who sort of adopted marianne. anyway, i'm so glad i'm seeing you around again! excited to write with you once more!!!

@cfgcdsandmcnsters's malakai. this guys should be a lesson to all that when you say "sEnD shIppY meMes EvEn if wE DoN'T hAVe A shIP" WILL GET YOU A MEME AND A SHIP AHAHAHA. oKAY BUT FIRST LET ME SAY THAT LILA IS LITERALLY THE BEST HGJSFGJSHDFGJHG SO AMAZINg. I'm so terribly sorry Marianne isn't as creative as Malakai and all she can come up with is a dumb nickname while she gets something poetic AF ahahahaha. I'm sorry what, i can't hear you over eventide sun HAHAHAHA. he's sooo gentle with her and it kinda annoys her? like 'wtf you can't always put me first, mal'. never thought marianne would ever hang out in a punk club but what can we do...

@vihilum and i one day jumped on discord and just planned the entire dynamics of reed and marianne and HOW DID THAT HAPPEN? OH yes because i randomly doodled a thing and bam! ship. anyway, i know you're not here a lot but i just want to say anyway that i loved what we talked about and your enthusiasm for their dynamics. your demon child reed will always have a home in marianne whenever your guys are back.

and you're last @heksery because i can (no because you have two, wtf that's illegal). this is funny coz we were both out of tumblr when it happened, there were memes before there were even ships, and honestly, the ships happened because of the memes. ironically, i haven't finished the meme that started this. it's not much but i will finish it anyway otherwise i will feel like i've tricked u into doing this HAHAHAHA. i think i once said their trope is found family but how to unfind them HAHAHA i love that Marianne gets some degree of pass from jules and pat HAHAHAHA

if you've heard of fun's some nights "coz i could use some friends for a change", i guess that's her thing with jules especially. like, does she fully trust jules? no, but she's not looking for someone who will 100% not stab her in the back and who has a shiny moral compass. she's there for jules' strength and no-nonsense attitude and her begrudging way of showing love because, i think, at the back of her mind marianne knows she has also this begrudging way of accepting love. if jules wants to take care of people but she doesn't wanna admit it, marianne wants to be taken care of but HAHA she doesn't recognize it either so jules can insult her and she can angrily accept.

idk what she liked about patrick. he's hot? but yeah no kidding, it's probably that plus the swag and power and his hair lol. that's soooo sexy to her but also annoying AF. and your boi can't resist egging her on and she can't resist wanting to take him down a notch but they have to watch their tempers because it's either breaking the bed or breaking the house probably. just like with jules, i don't think marianne would ever admit it but she feels safe in his presence because she knows he could take her attitude and he could also take her on - in a banter, in a fight, in *ahem* other stuff - like in terms of power he can match her. so it's basically the touch her and you die but also touch him and you die so just let me scream quietly in my corner thanks

haha oh well i think that's all. i probs said too much, but hey, you asked XD I just wanna thank everyone who puts up with me about this ahahaha *sinks back to the sea*

[thistle-and-thorn]

Hey

So here is a hypothetical question I’m asking people just now. Imagine you have a novel about to be published by a moderately successful publishing house and they have given you an advance that would just about allow you to take a sabbatical from your job and focus on writing full time. Netflix have got hold of a press copy of the novel and offer you a life changing amount (let’s say it would buy you your dream home and give you a little to spare). But you will have no creative control over the show Netflix will make and you will have to agree to withhold publication of the novel until Netflix want it released. Would you take the money and let the show possibly be made? Or not? Why?

♥️♥️♥️s

Okay—this is fascinating. The fact that this is not an insane scenario troubles me about the book industry but.

I think talking about money and peoples relationships to money is fascinating. I personally have modest, very American middle-class financial goals—house ownership, some disposable for travel and other experiences, some disposable for philanthropy, finance my children’s education, solid retirement. I don’t need or want that much more to be happy or secure.

So while I understand the concern about artistic ownership and such, I think the reality of being a working creative is that, like, you have to compromise a lot of the time and the ability to be able to write fiction full-time and own property and have savings….I mean. That’s really, really rare. It’s really a stepping stone to artistic freedom? The ways actors often have to take terrible roles in order to eat so then they can be more choosy once they have some cultural capital. The difference between people who are able to publish books and who aren’t falls along class lines a lot of the time—there’s a great essay about this that I’ll try to find written by a woman had worked on a single book manuscript for several decades and suddenly was not only able to finish her book but became very successful and prolific later in life…all because she married her second husband who happened to be very wealthy and was able to support her, her children, travel for book research, and periods of no income while she finished her novel.

One of the keys to this is that the book itself would remain untouched and, like, that’s my artistic vision. Any time I would sign an adaptation deal my expectation is that…it’s an adaptation. It will never be my vision for it unless I work on it myself. I wish it wasn’t Netflix and was a service with more consistent and thoughtful output but…again, i have financial goals that I could suddenly achieve.

so I would take the deal so I could stop being a starving artist and hope for the best

What about you?

[sundaysundaes]

Revival

Jung Jaehyun X Reader feat. Haechan | Fluff, Smut, Hurt/Comfort, Soulmate AU | NC-17 | 15k

Summary: When fate brought Jung Jaehyun to you, it didn’t feel like your first time meeting him. And with him, smiling at you like his heart shattering to pieces, eyes painted with longing, you knew you were connected to him somehow. You just have to find the answers before it’s too late.

Warnings: sex scenes (both with Jaehyun and Haechan), mentions of death and suicide 

For my lovely cinnamon bun Esme @rainydayswithnct​ I couldn’t think of anything else to give you but this. You’ve been nothing but kind to me, I hope this will make you happy ❤️

His eyes… They remind you of the ocean after the storm. 

It’s not the color as his are dark brown, like the freshly turned earth after rain. It’s the feeling, the way they glimmer under the soft evening light, calm and steady, but in a way, emits sadness, yearning for something. As if he had been crushed, trapped inside a hurricane for so long, he was about to fade into the void. And as he peered into your eyes, full of depths and secrets you long to unveil, something tugs upon your heartstring. 

It’s not love at a first sight. You’ve experienced that before with Lee Donghyuck, the lover whom you share frantic kisses and desperate touches with. But it’s something more intense, something you can’t even begin to fathom, something you wish you understand.

The second your eyes are locked to each other, it’s like you’re electrocuted, starting from the tip of your hair down to your toes.

“Oh, sorry,” you say, your voice sounds like you haven’t spoken in years. A tiny red spot begins to form on his chin from where it made contact with your head earlier. “I was looking for a book so I wasn’t—I didn’t see you there.”

The man, young enough to be around your age with a gaze wiser than most, has an expression of a heartbroken man. There’s pain that fleets through his eyes, a feeling that he quickly hides with a smile too bright to be genuinely coming from the heart. When he speaks, his voice is both rich and soft, deep and tender. “No, it was my fault.” He shakes his head. “Please don’t apologize.”

You want to reach out to him, want to know why he looks like he’s seconds away from breaking apart, want to ask him whether you’ve said too much or too less. But he’s nothing but a stranger and you don’t want to step out of the line. “Were you looking for a book?”

“Yes, umm…” He points his finger towards a book hidden in the shelf behind you. “That one.”

You follow his direction, smiling when you read the title written on its spine. “No wonder we bumped heads. I was aiming for the same book.”

“Oh, then it’s fine,” he says, pushing the book back to you after you handed it to him. “You can take it.”

“No, please, go ahead. I’ve read this too many times already.”

“Me too. So—”

“I insist.” You press the book to his chest, looking up at him. He looms before you, standing 180 centimeters tall that you have to tilt your head up to match his line of vision. You catch a sniff of his scent, the smell of soap and aftershave, thinly layered by cologne. His eyelashes are long, face framed by strong jawlines, brunette locks falling over his forehead. When his lips curve up, pretty dimples start to form in his cheeks. He looks like a painting, a thought runs through your mind, one that you hastily dismiss. “Take it as a form of my apology for bruising your chin,” you add.

His eyes widen, just for a split second before a soft chuckle reverberates from his chest. When he speaks again, it’s almost like a whisper—like a secret never meant to be told, “I can never win against you.”

You barely catch his words. “Sorry, what?”

“Nothing.” He clears his throat, hiding his eyes behind his bangs. “I’m… I was about to borrow this and grab some coffee. Would you care to join me? I’d love to talk more.” His body language indicates that he’s nervous which you find rather endearing. “I mean, It’s hard to find someone who has a similar taste like mine.”

Your heart convulses. You know how grabbing some coffee together tends to lead to something more. Your boyfriend’s name pops in your head but your lips betray you before your brain can form a warning. “Well, I do have a peculiar taste when it comes to books,” you answer with a smile. “Sure, as long as you tell me your name.”

“Right, sorry.” You love the sound he makes when he chuckles, and you love it more when it echoes louder in your ears. He offers his hand, stretching out his lean fingers. “I’m Jaehyun.”

You expect it to be soft just like the way he’s gazing at you, but his palm feels calloused against your own. When you reply to him with your name, he seems stunned but doesn’t stay still for long. Your name flows out of his mouth so naturally, as if he has been calling you for years, like a soulmate to another. It feels like electricity is running through your veins once more, something that you’ve never experienced before.

It takes around ten minutes to walk from the library to the nearest coffee shop and by then, you’ve caught on the little gestures he makes: the way he forces himself to laugh a little when he notices he’s being too straightforward; the way he clears his throat when he feels like his words have more hidden meanings than they let on. You’ve become aware of his passion and the love he has for books, so strong that it can only be matched by your own. You’ve learned about his dream, a novelist in the making, taking his first baby steps to turn it into reality.

“Have you thought about what kind of story you’re planning to write?” You question as you slide your cup closer with hot, black coffee shimmering inside. Before you take a sip, Jaehyun drags a sugar bowl toward your direction. “What?”

“It’s too bitter for you.”

“You think I can’t handle my coffee?”

“It’s not that.” He clears his throat and you wonder what is it that he’s trying to hide. “The coffees here are always too bitter.”

“Yeah?” You taunt him, smirking. “Well, watch me.” You take a sip, about to wince when the bitter taste hits your tongue but you act unfazed. Smacking your lips, you say, “See? I’m fine.”

“You’re sure?”

“No. Give me the damn sugar.” 

It doesn’t take long before Jaehyun’s little laughter becomes one of your most favorite sounds in the world. 

“I’m planning to write a romance novel,” he responds to your earlier question.

“Romance, huh? To be honest, I see you more as someone who writes detective stories. Never would’ve pegged you as a romantic.”

“Well, it’s supposed to be more than just a romance story. It has a supernatural element to it. Borderline fantasy.”

“Like what?”

He takes a few seconds before he responds quietly with a secretive smile. “I guess you’ll just have to read to find out.”

“Cheapskate.” You purse your lips. “Is it going to have a happy ending?”

“Well, they’ll be separated by death in the end.”

“No,” you drawl out. “What happens to them? You can’t just say something like that and then not tell me about it.”

“Of course, I can.” There’s a tiny smirk creeping up his lips. “I’m the author.”

“And a jerk too, apparently.” You’re worried you might go too far with your joke but Jaehyun still peers at you with that warm, longing eyes that make you curl your toes.

“Fine, then,” he succumbs. “Since you insist, I’ll give you a hint later. But you’ll have to imagine the rest.”

“Then tell you about it? What if you steal my idea?” You raise an eyebrow, teasing him. “I happen to have a very creative imagination.”

“I promise you I won’t. I’ve finished writing my version of it. I’ll let you see it after you tell me yours.”

“Huh, interesting.” You pretend like you’re rethinking your decision, just to get him a little bit hopeful and nervous by it. “Deal, why not.” Your coffee has grown slightly cold but the sugary taste of it serves as an addiction. “So, does that mean we’ll see each other again?”

“Well, I do have to go back to the library to return the book. So, hopefully, yes.” You both exchange stares, sharing sheepish smiles with you breaking away first, bringing your focus back to your coffee. “I’ve never seen you in the library before,” Jaehyun questions, “Is today your first time visiting?”

“No. I’ve been visiting it almost every day for the last… two weeks, I think? It’s near my workplace so I usually drop by after work to read for an hour or two. My apartment is pretty small so it feels a bit cramped. That’s why I enjoy spending more time outside.” You swirl your spoon, watching the little whirlpool you create inside your cup. “Besides, I can’t read at home.”

“Why’s that?”

“It’s…” You awkwardly laugh, waving one hand in the air. “I have a boyfriend who is younger than me and he’s a pretty lively person. It’s hard to focus on your book when someone keeps pulling you into conversations.”

Jaehyun’s fingers stop tapping against the surface of the coffee table but it’s too fast for you to notice before he starts again. “Isn’t it better to have someone like that rather than to be alone, though?” He counters, the smile on his lips never falter but the one in his eyes does.

“I…” It’s not apparent but you can sense it, the painful look on his face. It feels like you just said something that hurt him so badly that you want to apologize about it. “Yeah… I guess so…”

Maybe he notices you noticing, which is why he tries to mask his feelings better with a wider smile that does reach his eyes this time. “Why do you choose this library?” He diverts the topic. “There are a lot of new ones in town, bigger ones too. This place is pretty old and dusty.”

“Can’t argue with that.” You nod, sighing. “Okay, don’t laugh, but honestly? It just feels somewhat nostalgic to me. The first time I stepped inside, it felt like I’d been spending all my life there—just sitting on that old couch, reading books, enjoying the silence. It just feels familiar, even more comforting than being in my room. It’s weird but I can only feel at ease when I read there.” Jaehyun stays quiet that you have to lift your head to understand what goes through his head. His face is pensive, undecipherable. “What about you? What’s your reason, Jaehyun?”

He stops breathing at the sound of his name escaping your mouth, his shoulders tense, and only after what feels like hours, he finally has the strength to drag his eyes away from yours, bringing them down to see his interlaced fingers lying on the table. 

“It’s just closer to my place.”

***

“Hey, babe.” Donghyuck chirps with a lollipop stuck in his mouth, his fingers running through the keyboards, eyes locked to his computer screen. He can tell that it’s you who just slipped through the front door by the sound of your footsteps. “You’re late. Did you get the puddings I asked you?”

“They’re in the fridge.” You take off your coat and unwrap your scarf from your neck before you stroll toward the living room. You can’t remember what or who initiated it but it has been almost six months since he started living in your apartment. You remember how he used to spend just one night at your place on the weekend, then two when he felt a bit needy for your touch. Before you knew it, his personal belongings were scattered all over the place—his hoodie on the couch, his towel on the bed, his toothbrush on your sink—and he could be spending the entire week at your place, only moving once to his apartment when he ran out of comic books to read. It just came so naturally that you didn’t notice at first but by the time you did, it was too late to even bring the topic to the table.

Being with Donghyuck was easy, casual, and he gave you more reasons to laugh over little things more than anyone else. During the first two months, you acted like newlyweds with him peppering kisses on your face whenever you arrived home from work. Unlike you, Donghyuck is a freelancer and he does most of his work at home. He used to be considerate enough to do some chores for you—cooking, cleaning the bathroom, sometimes even doing your laundry when he felt he’d been neglecting you. Whenever you arrived late, he would’ve always had something prepared for you, beaming at you with a contagious grin while chiming, “Finally, you’re here! I’ve been waiting for you and I’m starving. Today’s dish is your favorite so let’s eat!”

But things are bound to change and happiness doesn’t last forever. It started slow, almost unnoticeable, with him forgetting to kiss you good night before bed and you treating the fact that he no longer paid attention to what you were wearing as normal. Nowadays, he doesn’t have enough affection to greet you with his smile—one that used to shine brighter than the sun. Comforting hugs and welcome kisses are long forgotten.

It’s lonely, but it’s fine. He’s still here. Donghyuck is still yours as much as you are his.

It’s fine.

“I met someone today,” you say, reaching out to stroke his dark hair. It’s so soft and fluffy like a dog’s fur and you find it calming just to card your fingers through them. The feelings are the same, only his reaction isn’t. He used to lean into your touch as a kitten would. Now, he doesn’t even spare you a glance. 

“A man?”

“Yep.”

“Is he hot?”

“Well, he’s not ugly.”

“Then don’t get too close to him.”

Donghyuck is the jealous type, he’s always been—sometimes even a bit possessive but it makes you happy to know there’s someone out there who cares about you so much he doesn’t want to share you with anyone else. But not today. Today, his words feel empty. You can tell that he doesn’t mean any of them. He just says them as a joke, maybe out of habit, but certainly not a warning.

“What will we be having for dinner?” You ask him when he’s busy shouting foul words to his screen as his character just got shot dead.

“Jesus—left, you moron!” He groans loudly in to the air before he turns around, finally recognizing your presence. “What? Oh.” He pops the lollipop out of his mouth. “I just had some take-outs.”

“You didn’t wait for me?”

“I was dead hungry, but I ordered some for you too. It’s probably cold now but you can heat it up.”

“Can you do that for me, please? I love it when you add more seasonings to it.”

“I’d love to do that but,” he smiles apologetically, his fingers meeting the keyboards once more. “I’m busy, babe. There’s an event going on and Jeno literally won’t let me take a break. Look, I’ll cook for you tomorrow, I promise.”

You have stopped believing in his promises, or at least, don’t allow yourself to believe. You’ve learned that the best way to avoid disappointment is to not expect anything.

You smile back, push his hair away so you can land a kiss on his temple. And no matter how much your bottled-up feelings are about to burst, you don’t say a word.

Because you know silence is what keeps your relationship alive.

***

That night, Jaehyun appeared in your dream.

He had a different hairstyle, a little bit shorter, color’s a shade darker. He was dressed in an old-fashioned way—a white buttoned-up shirt under a brown blazer that was a couple of sizes bigger than it was supposed to. Nevertheless, he looked just as strikingly handsome as he was in real life.

He took off his fedora hat, bowing when his eyes met yours as he entered the library—the one that you always visit. “You look beautiful today,” he said, smiling like he always has from the first time you saw him but it felt different in the dream. His smile was timid and shy, eyes never stayed long enough to be locked with yours, but they were honest. The way they shimmered in adoration at the sight of you, painted with both desire and affection.

Your body went autopilot, words flowing from your mouth before you could even process the situation. It was like you were residing in someone else’s body, just a bystander. “Are you saying I didn’t look beautiful yesterday?”

“No, that’s not—” At the sight of you covering your smile behind your hand, he sighed, pressing his hat to his chest. “Don’t tease me like that.”

“I’m sorry. Which book would you like to read today?”

“Will you choose one for me?”

“Unfortunately, I have a peculiar taste when it comes to books—”

“I trust you.” He smiled a tad wider, perfect teeth peeking behind soft red lips, and you could feel your lips curving to mirror his. 

“Well then,” you said, reaching toward a bookshelf. “Why don’t we start with this?”

It ended without you knowing what book it was nor the line between your dream and reality. They stand out so vividly—the scenery, his expressions, the lines you’d exchanged with him—that it takes you a few good minutes to realize that it was just a dream and not a memory.

You couldn’t sleep for the rest of the night.

***

The library is indeed old, with walls standing in dire need to be repainted. But the faint smell of sandalwood combined with the orange tint of sunlight sneaking through the windows is comforting. Crowds don’t gather much around here—maybe four or five people at most—and you’re consoled by the tranquility. There’s only a soft thrum of acoustic guitar playing through the speakers that keep you company.

And Jaehyun.

You meet him every day when the sun is an hour away from setting. You don’t chat for long, spending most of your hour reading your chosen book for the day while stealing glances at him scribbling stuff down on his notebook.

“Why don’t you use a laptop?”

“Not fond of it. I feel more like a writer this way,” Jaehyun responds, re-reading the words he just wrote on paper. When he notices you’re giggling, he frowns. “What?”

“You’re like my dad.”

“Then I’m sure your dad is a very smart, tech-savvy man.”

“I’m saying you have an old soul, the way you prefer to do stuff more traditionally.” You sink further into your chair, opening a new page, eyes scanning the lines but not reading them. “Well, I guess that makes the two of us since I already have the e-book version of this on my iPad and I’m still here reading it in a library. How’s your story going?”

“Pretty well. I just came up with a really annoying character.” His smile is a bit different this time, somewhat mischievous. “Inspired by someone.”

“You’re not talking about me, are you?”

Jaehyun drags his pen over his note. “Character A begins to question her—”

“Shut up!”

The more time you spend with him, the more you feel like he’s becoming a mystery you can’t solve. You’re closer to him, closer than any of your friends, but you know there are secrets he tries to bury underneath those tender smiles. To you, Jaehyun, with his eyes that always seem like they’re telling a different story—one that nearly drives him to the brink of tears, still seems like an incomplete puzzle. And if time allows you, you’d gladly collect every piece of him to be able to perceive him better.

***

Jaehyun visited you in another dream.

This time, you were walking next to him beside a beautiful pond in a backyard that seemed familiar enough to be your own. Both of you were dressed in traditional clothing and you wondered whether a ceremony just occurred.

“Are you nervous?” He asked, holding your hand.

“I don’t know, maybe,” you heard yourself mumble, body moving beyond your control. “I just feel like we’re moving too fast. We just turned twenty.”

“Are you having doubts?” He intertwined your fingers better and you noticed how his were shaking slightly. “About me?”

“Of course not.” You turned around, reaching up to caress his cheek, stroking his cheekbone with your thumb. “Jaehyun, this is the only thing I’ve ever wanted. I want to be with you, there’s no doubt about it. I’m just thinking about our future, that’s all. What will we do with our jobs? Our money? What will we do when we have kids—”

“It’s just like you to overthink about stuff,” he tittered, “We’ll cross the bridge when we get there.”

That earned him a pout. “I’m not overthinking about stuff. I’m planning them.”

“Of course, my bad.” He kissed your inner palm once before he let you frame his face again, his hand pressing against the back of your smaller one. “Thank you.”

You frowned. “For what?”

“For everything. For caring, for worrying.” Jaehyun smiled so gently, it was almost heartbreaking. “For being with me. Perhaps it’s immature for me to say this, but whatever future that lies ahead of us, I’m sure it’s filled with nothing but joy as long as we’re together.”

“That is such an embarrassing line to say.” You giggled and the blush that bloomed on his face was instant and striking but before he could say a word, you pulled him into your embrace, resting your cheek against his chest. “As long as we’re together, huh?” You repeated quietly. “Then will you promise you’ll stay with me forever?”

“I promise.” Jaehyun’s smile was pressing against your hairline. “Not even death can separate us.”

You wake up with a cold sweat, your heart thrumming so loudly, it makes you feel nauseous. Donghyuck shifts around in bed at the sound of you gasping for air, sleepily asking what’s wrong as he rubs his eyes.

“I’m fine,” you tremulously utter, a hand on your chest as if it could do something to steady your racing heart. “Go back to sleep.”

Donghyuck sends you another look with eyes barely opened. “Come here.” He tugs you closer to his chest, his nose grazing the crook of your neck. “It’s just a nightmare,” he murmurs drowsily against your skin, and in a matter of seconds, he drifts back to sleep.

“Yeah…” You swallow your breath, Jaehyun’s name resting on the tip of your tongue. “Just a nightmare…”

One that feels too real.

***

Weeks turn into months, and what started as curiosity becomes affection. 

Reading books has turned into nothing but an excuse for both of you to spend time together. What started as stealing secret glances at each other has morphed into an exchange of secret whispers in a secluded corner. The questions have become more personal too, and you find yourself talking about childhood memories and nonsensical ideas that show up in your thoughts, even the ones you have never shared with anyone else, not even to Donghyuck who lends his arm for you at night.

It’s only the dreams that you keep quiet about, as they always revolve around him since the first day you met Jaehyun. You’re not sure why, maybe it’s a way of your subconscious trying to tell you that you have feelings for him—feelings that aren’t meant to be shared with friends—as the dreams tend to play romantically. And you can’t deny that you do feel something about him.

It’s hard not to feel anything when Jaehyun has given you everything you’ve ever asked from a person. From a friend. From a lover.

But it’s not love. Definitely not love. At least not in the way you know of. In your mind, love is in the form of hugs you share with Donghyuck, not in the way Jaehyun lands his eyes on yours. Love is—

Your head swirls. What is love?

The concept of love is so complex that even if you know about it, you’re not sure if you understand it enough to experience it. You have never talked about love, not with your boyfriend, not with yourself. Is it something that you’ve already felt once? Are you in love with Donghyuck—the man you’ve spent the last two years together?

What does he think of me? You start to lose focus, sinking into your thoughts and the soft music playing in the background feels like a lullaby. Does Hyuck love me?

Before long, you feel your eyelids grow heavy. You fall asleep with your arms folded on the table, cheek pressing against them.

You’re dreaming. You’re dreaming of a hand, so warm and tender as it brushes stray hairs from your temple. You’re dreaming of a voice, so familiar to your ears, so quiet and heartbroken as it resonates in whispers. You’re dreaming of a pair of lips, so soft and light as they press against your strands.

“It’s okay if you don’t remember me. It’s okay, so please…” Slender fingers curl around your wrist, bringing it to frame a face with skin as soft as porcelain. “Just come back to me…”

You wake up. 

Jaehyun is sitting on the other side of the table, pen tapping against his lips as he reads back his work, eyebrows furrowing in concentration. He notices the little shift in your movement, immediately beaming at you with his signature smile. “Hey there, Sleepyhead.”

You rub your eyes before sitting straight on your seat, your hair’s astray. “What—How did I—” A coat is slipping through your shoulders and you catch it before it meets the ground. It’s Jaehyun’s. “Umm—t-thanks,” you mumble, handing it back to him.

“Sure,” he responds. “You were shivering so…”

“Oh… Right.” You certainly don’t feel cold now especially when your cheeks feel like they’re on fire. “W-what time is it?”

“Around eight. The place’s about to close.” Jaehyun takes a sip of his drink, grinning at your behavior. “You were sleeping so soundly, I didn’t have the heart to wake you.”

“Yeah, well, you should’ve. My boyfriend's gonna interrogate me for this.” You sigh, trying to gather back every bit of your strength and dignity. “Why are you still here?”

He raises an eyebrow at that, acting offended. “You don’t actually think that I’m the type of guy who leaves pretty girls sleeping defenselessly in public, do you?”

The word ‘pretty’ comes so effortlessly from his mouth that you’re sure he doesn’t mean it to mean something more. “There’s literally no one else around here but the staff besides us.”

“Which should be the more reason why I shouldn’t have left you alone.”

You scoff, shaking your head in amusement. “Yes, yes, how chivalrous of you. Thank you, oh my mighty prince. How can I return the favor?”

“By coming here again tomorrow?”

The way his eyes shine with excitement at the thought of seeing you again makes your heart flutter. “I don’t think you need to ask,” you grin.

***

Jaehyun knows you. He knows you too well. But it’s not the things that can be seen, it’s the things that you can only know by spending time together. Jaehyun knows the type of music you listen to, knows that whenever it gets too cold, you’ll start craving a cup of hot chocolate. 

It’s strange, the fact that Jaehyun, a stranger you just befriended, pays attention with all his heart, even at the words that accidentally slipped off your tongue as if you’re the only person who matters in the world, while Donghyuck, your boyfriend, barely bats an eyelash when you share an important aspect of your life. It feels strange at first, but now, it sickens you.

“What’s this?” You ask, examining a CD case he just hands over. “Are you giving me a mix-tape?” It doesn’t have a cover, just a note painted with the words: When we die, we will turn into songs, and we will hear each other and remember each other. You have your eyebrow raised. “A quote by Rob Sheffield?”

“It’s a hint for my story. As promised.” He takes a seat in front of you. “Have you worked on it?”

“When you’re only giving me this quote as a hint and nothing more, it’s kinda hard to come up with something tragic for the ending.”

“I thought you had a very creative imagination.”

You throw a playful glare and he titters a little bit in response. “Is there any other reason why you’re giving me this?”

“Just something to keep you company.” He smiles. He always smiles, but more with his eyes than his lips. Then he slides down another thing—a book this time—wrapped with a red ribbon. “As you read this.”

It’s an old book written by your favorite author, one that you haven’t been able to read because it’s so rare to find. “How do you—” You’re lost for words. You have never told him about this. You’ve mentioned your favorite books but none from this author as it is something personal that you prefer to keep to yourself, not wanting others to judge you for your distinctive taste.

“It’s written by my favorite author,” he elaborates, “I just thought you’d like it too since we have similar taste.”

There’s something he’s not telling you, you can sense that. But if he’s not ready to provide the words, you won’t take them away by force.

“Thank you.” You hug the book to your chest. Somehow, the air feels like spring, like cherry blossoms blooming for the first time after being frozen for so long. “I’ll cherish this.”

“It’s just a book, don’t be dramatic,” he chuckles but happiness is written all over his face, mirroring yours. Jaehyun’s eyes soften and he appears so fragile, like a porcelain doll. So beautiful and vulnerable.

The songs he has compiled for you seem like they’re taken straight out of your playlist. Even for the songs you’ve never listened to before, they click right in. You’re so caught by the moment, drowned deep in the lyrics and the music that resonates from your speakers, that you don’t hear the sounds of your boyfriend stepping into the room.

“I thought I heard noises. What are you listening to?” Donghyuck asks, leaning over your shoulder to peek at the empty CD case you’ve been holding on your lap.

“A friend gave me,” you answer. You notice the way his eyes dart to the handwritten note and it makes you nervous as if you’re doing something wrong behind his back, something forbidden.

“What a thoughtful friend,” he comments nonchalantly, albeit a little bit cold. You mask your anxiety with a chuckle. “Maybe you can tell your friend that there’s this thing called Spotify nowadays. Literally no one listens to CDs anymore.”

Your tongue lays heavy in your mouth, and maybe it’s better to leave things the way it is but you can’t stop yourself from bitterly saying, “I happen to like listening to CDs. It makes me feel nostalgic.”

“You and your nostalgia.” Donghyuck snorts, completely missed the annoyed tone in your voice. He places a peck on the top of your head. “Well, I’m hungry. What do you want to have for dinner? I’ll cook."

“There’s a new Chinese restaurant opening just a block away,” Jaehyun said on a Sunday evening when you two were about to part ways. “They got amazing reviews. Do you have some time to spare? I know how much you love Chinese food.”

“I never told you I loved Chinese food.”

“Everybody loves Chinese food, it’s not that hard to guess.”

“Fine. But if you can guess what I’m about to order, I’ll start filing a restraining order against you, assuming you’re a stalker.”

“Well, I gotta be careful not to get caught then.”

“Baby?” Donghyuck snaps you out of your reverie. “I’m asking what you wanna have for dinner.”

“Umm…” You push a loose strand of your hair behind your ear, somewhat jittery. “Chinese food?”

He frowns upon your words. “I didn’t know you liked Chinese food.”

“I-it’s just something I haven’t eaten in a while.”

“Well, I’m going to cook you something better.” He grins, boyish and ignorant. “How about your favorite Spaghetti Aglio e Olio by Chef Lee Donghyuck?”

You smile, weak but hopefully not empty. “That would be nice.”

***

“You’re okay?” Jaehyun asks the second you take a seat in front of him. He seems so concerned that it surprises you. You haven’t realized you look that troubled.

“I’m fine,” you assure him with a smile. “Just… You know, boyfriend stuff.”

You can tell how Jaehyun is holding back his words from how tightly he keeps his lips pressed together. He’s always considerate like that, always detecting every little thing that you try to hide but never pressures you to speak, especially when it comes to your relationship. Jaehyun respects you, respects the fact that you are already involved with someone that he never tries to get you to look in his direction. Though his eyes often betray him, Jaehyun tries his best to maintain his distance. He never flirts, never praises you with romantic words, never steps out of line.

And you’re thankful for that because deep down you know, once he does, it will be hard to untangle yourself from his grasp.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“I’d rather not.”

“Then...” Jaehyun closes his book, leaning closer. His dimples are so prominent when he grins, eyes turning into a beautiful pair of crescents. “How about we go try out some dumplings?”

It’s so sudden and random but once the idea sinks in, there’s only one thing you want to say. “Take me away, Jaehyun.”

It’s not about the food. It’s not about ignoring your problems, or the loneliness that’s drowning you a little bit more every day. It’s about enjoying the little things with someone who understands you, someone who doesn’t need to hold your hand to keep you warm. 

Someone who can finally let you breathe.

***

“I can’t believe it’s closed early,” you whine after you read the sign that’s strapped to the library’s front door. “And I was so excited to read the next chapter too.”

“What’s the book?” Jaehyun asks, adjusting the strap of his bag that hangs low on his shoulder.

“No Longer Human.”

“By Osamu Dazai?”

“Yep.”

“I’ve got a copy of that.”

“What, really?” The spark of glee that glimmer in your eyes catches him by surprise but he hides it behind a soft smile. “Can I borrow it? It’s such an old book, I can’t even find the e-book version of it.”

“Sure. Would you like to come over to my place?” The line makes your breath hitched in your throat and Jaehyun recognizes the faint blush that spreads on your cheeks. Mirroring your reaction, he hastily clears his throat, rubbing his nape as his face turns scarlet. “Or, uhh, I can just hand it over to you tomorrow.”

“No, it’s—” As you tuck your hair behind your ear, you notice your fingers are shaking. “I have—I’ve got time to spare. You have coffee at your place, right?”

His shoulders begin to relax and with a soft gaze, he reciprocates with an even tender smile. “If you’re alright with instant coffees.”

“Then lead the way.”

Jaehyun has this mature persona around him, like a caring big brother that calms you down but the second you arrive in his hallway, he fumbles with his words, his key slipping out of his fingers during his first try, and his nervousness starts to rub off on you.

It makes you wonder whether he’s feeling like he’s crossing the line, just as much as you are with Donghyuck’s name sitting on the front of your mind.

“Come in,” he invites, opening the door but keeping his eyes anywhere else but yours. “I hope you don’t mind the mess.”

His apartment smells just like him and it makes it hard for you to focus on anything else. But the second you’re able to sort that thought away, you realize something. He keeps his place minimalist and neat, just like the way he dresses and writes. Everything is organized properly with two paintings decorating his walls—ones that remind you of your grandmother’s house. “You really do have an old soul,” you playfully comment and he scrunches his nose at you in return.

It feels more familiar to step into Jaehyun’s apartment than your own because he has everything that you wanted and more. All the books sitting on his shelf, his collection of CDs, even the potpourri he has on his coffee table has the same scent with the one you’re planning to buy. 

“I know you said we have similar taste, but this…” You scan his bookshelf in awe, noticing how it almost covers his entire wall from how huge it is. He owns hundreds of books and everything is arranged alphabetically. “This is just taking it to another level. Are you sure you’re not my stalker?”

He simpers. “If I was, I wouldn’t have invited you here. Too much evidence.”

“Or maybe you’re just planning to keep me here with you forever.” When he doesn’t reply, you realize how wrong that line just sounded. “I’m sorry, was that a weird thing to say?”

“I didn’t hear anything.” Jaehyun waves you off, walking to the kitchen. “Coffee?”

“Yes, please.”

The tension gradually starts to ease by the time you have a book in your lap, your eyes running from one passage to another. Sitting next to you, Jaehyun has his pen glued to his notepad again, his brown hair nearly looks golden as the sunset illuminates his face with such a warm, beautiful glow.

He really does look like a painting, you admire as you steal glances at him from behind your book. The perfect shape of his nose, his smooth skin, the way he’s so focused on his story, drowned inside his imagination… Maybe you’re being carried away, taken by his beauty, that your mouth begins to produce the words without thinking.

“Why do you look so sad?” 

Jaehyun’s pen nearly slips from his fingertips. “What?”

“Sometimes you just look... so lonely and hurt,” you clarify although you’re growing more conscious of the way you’re crossing the line. “It feels like you’re forcing yourself to smile when you look at me...”

Jaehyun loses the ability to speak, even just blinking his eyes already seems like a stretch. But he sees something, the genuine curiosity and concern written in your eyes, that makes him avert his gaze away. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he remarks, forcing himself to chuckle and you know that’s he’s showing you that smile again, even when you can barely make out his features.

You don’t know what’s gotten into you. Maybe you’re just tired of him keeping secrets to himself when you’re sure they concern you. Maybe you’re just sick of seeing him like he’s on the verge of breaking apart without knowing the cause. Or perhaps it’s just your selfish way of saying, “I want you to smile, truly smile, because of me and no one else.”

But you find yourself reaching out a hand, your fingertips meeting the warm skin of his cheek, wanting him to turn his face around so you can see his expression. Jaehyun jolts, your name tumbles down his lips abruptly, his hand clamping against your wrist. “What are you doing?” His eyes are shaking as they bore deep into yours but yours are steady. Your eyes, your voice, your fingertips. They’ve never been this steady.

This is the first time you’ve been this close to him, to know how long his eyelashes really are, the way they flutter against his cheeks, the curve of his mouth, and the beauty mark on his pale skin. He’s possibly the most beautiful man you’ve ever witnessed in person.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to suddenly touch you like that.” You try to retract your hand, but he keeps his fingers around your wrist, hand hanging mid-air as he swallows his breath. Seeing him nervous makes you nervous. “Jaehyun, I won’t force you to say anything you don’t want to say, but…” You haven’t realized that you’ve been speaking in whispers, but Jaehyun has and his eyes soften just as much as yours do. “Please don’t pretend, not when you’re with me.”

Whether it’s from your words or the tenderness in your voice, you’re not sure, but Jaehyun releases your hand only so he can cup your cheek. He murmurs your name, so soft as if he’s telling a secret that he’s been dying to say. He leans forward, his breath is now fanning your cheek, and he’s so close, so close, and your eyes begin to shut when his lips faintly graze against yours—

The ringing sound of your phone blares through the room. 

Your entire movement stops but your heart runs a thousand miles per hour. It takes a good few seconds to come back to reality, and when you do, you’re not graceful at it. “Umm—” You glance away, breaking free from his touch. Your fingers are trembling hard when they retrieve your phone from the table. It has stopped ringing and a notification appears on your screen. The sight of your boyfriend’s name makes you feel like the floor is crumbling underneath you. “Sorry, it’s Donghyuck—I have to—It’s getting late, he must be looking for me.” Too embarrassed to see his face, you quickly gather your belongings into your arms, not even spending a few seconds to wear your coat back. “Thank you for inviting me. I have to go. I’ll see you tomorrow?” And you don’t wait for an answer, only forcing yourself to laugh which comes out as strained and pitchy, before you head toward the front door.

“Wait.” Jaehyun has his right hand pressing against the back of the door, shutting it close before you have the chance to let yourself out. You’re trapped between the door and his chest, making it harder for you to breathe. “Can you look at me?” He firmly orders but promptly adds a soft, “Please,” when you’re not brave enough to respond to him. 

You turn around, hugging your purse and your coat to your chest, facing him but not meeting his eyes. You can feel him analyzing your expression, feel how heavy his gaze is on your face. He bends down slightly, hand reaching out to frame your face like before but you flinch, eyes shutting tightly before he can make any contact.

You can’t see the look on his face as you are too frightened to do so, but you can tell how much you hurt him by the sound of his voice. “You forgot your book,” he states, handing a copy of Osamu Dazai’s No Longer Human.

“O-oh, right.” You sound so nervous, so afraid, and you don’t know why. “It’s okay. I won’t be able to read at home anyway—”

“I want you to have it.” It’s the first time he loses the warmth in his voice when he speaks and if you’re not too clouded by your thoughts, if you weren’t so selfish, you would’ve tried your best to fix the situation. But not right now. Right now, you just want to disappear. You want to run back home, run into Donghyuck’s arms like how you’re supposed to be. 

Because this is wrong. This isn’t supposed to happen. Not when you have another man waiting for your return.

You take the book from his hand, noticing how your fingers brush his and how they stay that way for a little too long, but Jaehyun doesn’t say anything. “I’m sorry,” you mumble out, tears begin to prickle at the corner of your eyes and you’re still not sure why you’re on the verge of crying.

“Don’t be. It was my fault.” He notices your emotions, he always does, and it breaks you apart to know how much you’re breaking him right now. “I shouldn’t have done that.”

“Nothing happened,” you convince him, shaking your head and will your tears to go away before they fall down your cheeks. “We didn’t do anything.”

Jaehyun’s fingers curls, nails sinking into his palms as he tries his best to mask what he’s feeling. “You’re right,” he quietly repeats, “Nothing happened.”

***

“Where have you been?”

Your keys slip through your fingers at the sound of Donghyuck’s voice and you’re petrified, millions of thoughts running through your head as you try to come up with an excuse.

But why? Why do you have to come up with an excuse? “Nothing happened. We didn’t do anything.” Isn’t that what you said?

“Babe?”

You jump back a couple of steps when Donghyuck walks into your personal space with a frown breaking on his temple. He furrows his eyebrows deeper at your reaction. “You okay? You look kinda pale.”

“Yeah, umm—” You adjust the collar of your turtleneck shirt, suddenly feeling like you’re being choked. “It’s fine—I’m fine. I just had a long day at work.”

“Why didn’t you text me? I could’ve swung by to pick you up.”

You force yourself to smile at his offer. “Thank you. It’s okay, really. Were you waiting for me?”

“Well yeah, I wanted to eat dinner together. It’s been a while since we did that and I wanted to make it up to you.” He cutely pouts and you’re reminded of the reason why you’re so trapped under his spell. “Text me next time when you’re about to come home late so I don’t have to wait for you.”

There it is. It strikes again. The feeling of loneliness. Curling your fingers at the hem of your shirt, you weakly reply with, “I’m sorry.”

Because out of the millions of thoughts that run through your head, that’s the only thing you have the bravery to say out loud.

***

“Hyuck?” You call out, carding your fingers through his soft locks. Donghyuck has his head on your lap with his legs sprawled out, taking most of the couch. His eyes are glued to the screen of his Nintendo Switch, thumb moving frantically to land a new high score. “I think we need to talk.”

Donghyuck doesn't respond right away. After a few relentless movements of his thumbs, he shouts, “Fuck, not again! Goddamn, I gotta restart all over again.” You can see him renewing the game, picking a different character. “What do you want to talk about?”

“I just…” You’re nervous, feeling more so than the pain that swells in your chest from not being taken seriously. “It feels like we haven’t been spending time with each other. Properly, I mean.”

“We’re spending time together now, aren’t we?” He hisses when his character takes another damage from his opponent. “What, do you want to watch a movie or something?”

I want us to talk. I want us to laugh. I want us to listen to each other like we used to. “I’m not in the mood for movies right now.”

After taking another shot, Donghyuck groans. “Fuck this stupid game,” he grumbles, throwing his device to the coffee table. “You know what’s annoying? The fact that I could land a perfect high score when I was drunk as fuck but now, I can’t even get into top three!”

Your patience is growing thin, but even then, you can’t find the strength to confront him properly. “Hyuck…”

“Right, sorry.” He heaves a sigh, rubbing his head as he sits straight up, facing you properly. “What is it? Is there something wrong?”

You meet his gaze and you realize how rarely you stand in this position, with him looking directly at your face with concern in his eyes. Now that he’s paying you full attention, your vocabulary turns into a blank slate. Your lips are parted but your voice is nowhere to be found, as it is hidden by the fear of speaking beyond control once you let your emotions run loose. 

“I…” You begin, clearing your throat to sound less anxious. “Are you happy with me?”

He knits his eyebrows together. “Of course, I’m happy. What are you talking about? Have I done something to upset you?”

“No, it’s…” Your hands lay rigid on your lap, fingers tightening around each other. You weakly smile. “Nothing. I guess I just had some weird thoughts popping in my head.”

“Look, I promise you I’ll do the laundry this weekend,” he confidently convinces you, as if that was the problem you’re currently facing. He pokes you on the nose, grinning boyishly. “Stop acting so weird, you’re creeping me out. What else are you thinking about? If it’s sex you want, you just gotta ask. You know I’m down with it anytime you want.”

“Yeah, of course…” You can force yourself to laugh but every sound you make feels like a knife piercing against your heart. “Sorry, I was just being stupid. You can ignore me.”

“I won’t ignore you, how can I do that? Not when you’re this cute.” He giggles, pressing a kiss to your forehead. But his affection does not make the butterflies in your stomach come alive. It makes hot tears threatening to appear in your eyes. “I like your sweater,” Donghyuck coos, “Is it new?”

No, this is my third time wearing it in front of you. “Yes. I’m glad you noticed.”

“I always notice everything about you.” He ruffles your hair as he stands up, stretching out his arms above his head. “Is there anything else you’d like to talk about? ‘Cause I’m dead tired.”

“No. Thank you for listening.”

“Anytime, babe.” He bends his head down to kiss you fully on the mouth, tongue running along your lower lip just to tease like usual. When he pulls away, he has his juvenile grin intact. “Well, I’m going to bed. If I wake up late tomorrow, you can re-heat the food. I’ve stored everything in the fridge.”

Donghyuck disappears behind the door before you can finish saying good night.

***

The sun’s about to set… He must have been there already.

It has been two days since you last saw Jaehyun. You know you’re not being fair avoiding him like this, but you don’t know what else to do. You’re not brave enough to face him after that. Have you been giving him signs? Was it your fault, was it the expression you made, was it the words you spoke, that made him lean towards you, asking for a kiss that you were more than eager to give?

“Hey, babe,” Lee Donghyuck chirps against your ear, arms finding their way to circle your waist, pulling you to his lap. “What are you doing?”

You’re successful at hiding your surprise but knowing it’s Donghyuck, anything will probably pass by without him realizing. Even when you have spent the last fifteen minutes reading the same paragraph in your book over and over again as your thoughts drift somewhere else. 

You have a boyfriend and it’s not Jaehyun. Donghyuck is everything to you now, isn’t he? Yet, if you hadn’t been interrupted by that phone call, you were sure you would’ve yielded to Jaehyun’s touch.

“Nothing happened. We didn’t do anything.”

You’re disgusted with yourself.

You throw a glance to the side, your nose nearly brushing his as Donghyuck settles his chin on your shoulder. Unlike Jaehyun who has a fresh, masculine scent, Donghyuck smells like summer and lilacs under the sun. It’s comforting and sweet, yet even after two years, it stills feels somewhat unfamiliar to you.

“Reading a book.” You shiver when he pushes your hair away, placing a lazy wet kiss on your nape, lips parted and tongue pressing against the skin. “Hyuck…”

“It’s okay, keep reading.” Whenever his mouth makes contact with your skin, he adds a hum or a moan to make sure you know that despite his words, he’s not giving you the chance to continue. “You want us to spend more time together, don’t you?”

You deeply exhale, staring lifelessly at the ceiling, sensitive skin being caressed but none of his touches pumps desire through your veins. Since when did I stop wanting him this way? You wonder, feeling guilty when Jaehyun’s face appears in the corner of your mind once more.

“Baby,” Donghyuck murmurs seductively against the skin, thin fingers slipping underneath the hem of your shirt, trailing over your navel. “Hasn’t it been a while since we last did it?”

“It’s only been a week.”

“And that’s a week too long. I want you.” He strokes your cheek, guiding you to meet his eyes. “Can I touch you?”

It’s a rhetorical question since you both know you can’t say no when he demands something from you. “Of course.”

Donghyuck’s lips still taste the same, feel the same as they suck bruises on your delicate skin but the sparks are no longer there. He used to make you squirm with excitement, body begging under temptation. Sex used to be an adventure, a way for him to make you lose your mind, to have you gasping his name between moans, nails clawing against his back, thighs trembling under his fingertips.

Right now, sex is just… another glue to keep your relationship in place.

Clothes are discarded on the floor, and Donghyuck is sitting with you on his lap, his spine pressed against the couch, nails digging into your hips as he brings you down to take him inch-by-inch. He hisses when he feels you engulfing him with your warmth, head thrown back with lips parted in a blissful moan.

“No matter how much we’ve done it,” he chuckles, eyes glazed with lust. “I can never get enough of the way you’re taking me so well, baby.” Donghyuck is a very passionate lover and his lips love to praise, both by words and kisses. The way he calls your name, the way he whispers, “You feel so good around me,” often makes you wonder whether there would be any other man who will desire you this much. But is it love? Does he love you? 

Do you love him? 

You’re not sure. You don’t know yet. But you know he plays a huge part in your life. Donghyuck once added a spectrum of colors into your previously dull, monochromatic life. You care about him, think about him more than you should, even putting his needs and priorities above yours.

If that’s not love, then what is it?

“Donghyuck…” You flinch when he rocks his hips up, a bit too rough and forceful as he’s getting impatient with the pace you’re going. “I—I think I love you.”

It surprises you that these words can leave your lips but you don’t regret it. It’s the right thing to do, saying these words to him. It’s only natural after the amount of time you’ve spent with him. It’s a way to bridge the gap between you and him, to reignite the flame, to bring laughter back into your life. 

To fix the mistake you just made two days ago.

But maybe his thoughts are too clouded with lust, maybe your words are too quiet for him to hear, or maybe you haven’t said the words at all and everything is just playing inside your imagination but no matter what the reason is, Donghyuck doesn’t answer. The words that escape his lips are obscene, a sign that he’s about to finish and you let him pull you closer to his chest, let him sink his face in the crook of your neck, let him groan and release everything inside because that’s what you’re supposed to do.

“Did you get to come?” He asks, breathless and flushed when he’s finished. His bangs are glued to his temple, sun-kissed skin glistening with sweat and when he strokes your cheekbone with his fingers, they tremble from the pleasure that washed through his body.

“Yes.” You didn’t. You haven’t in a while. It’s not because you didn’t enjoy it. Donghyuck still moved in the way you wanted him to—in the way that used to untie the knots in your stomach, almost making you cry from how good it was. But you’ve begun to realize that there was a part of you missing and Donghyuck isn’t the right piece to complete the puzzle. 

Jaehyun.

The dread of having another man’s name running through your head is so much, it almost makes you vomit your insides. 

“Hyuck.”

“Yes, baby?”

“I said I love you.”

There’s no going around it this time. You’ve said the words, you’ve pronounced them loud and clear but when Donghyuck still doesn’t say anything, you wish the earth could swallow you whole. “Can you… say something, please…?”

“Baby,” he sighs, fingers framing your face so gently, it hurts you. “Please don’t take this the wrong way. It’s not that I don’t love you but—”

You’re stunned, shocked to your core at the incoming rejection but… that’s it.

You don’t feel anything. How can you not feel anything? You don’t feel hurt, you’re not disappointed, you’re just…

Relieved.

“Baby, are you listening?” Donghyuck calls again, grabbing you by your chin so he can peer into your eyes. “I like you. I really do like you. I like you so much but love is such a big word and for me to be committed that way is just… I don’t know, I haven’t figured out my feelings yet. I don’t even understand what love is. I just—I need more time.”

You’re lost for words. How can you tell him? How can you say that you’re so relieved he doesn’t love you back? How can you tell him that his action does not break you apart, but only makes you realize that you’ve just been forcing yourself to stay with him because it feels like it’s the right thing to do?

What if you’re just staying with him because you’re so afraid of being alone, not knowing that loneliness is the only thing he can offer you in return?

“I understand,” you quietly reply, climbing off his lap. Your knees wobble slightly under your weight as your mind travels somewhere else. You gather your clothes into your arms, placing them back on your body.

Donghyuck frowns at your reaction, calling your name as he stands up and pulls his jeans back to place. “Look, I don’t want to hurt you by saying it when I still don’t truly mean it the way you do.”

You can’t look at him, can’t meet his eyes when you can’t even understand how you feel. “I get it, Hyuck, it’s fine.”

But maybe Donghyuck is taking it the wrong way because his voice is laced with both exhaustion and desperation to make this feel any less terrible. “Babe, can we just talk—”

“I said, I’m fine!” You turn around to face him, head dizzy and heart palpitating. It scares you. It scares you that after all this time thinking Donghyuck was the one for you—all the things you’ve done, all the memories you’ve shared—you still don’t understand your feelings for him. You loved him once, you’re sure you loved him once. But is it love if the feeling isn’t eternal? Can you call it love when it fleets by so fast, disappearing without a trace as if it’s never existed in the first place?

To think that these two years you have spent with him would amount to nothing...

You take a deep breath, wishing your body and voice to stop shaking. When you look him in the eyes, there’s nothing but certainty written in your eyes. “You’re right, we need to talk.”

Donghyuck walks to your spot, hand resting against your waist, another one framing your cheek. “Please don’t be mad,” he whispers, and for the first time in the last few months, he does look sorry. “I’m happy to hear you say those words, I really do, but—”

“I want to break up.”

He freezes, jaw dropping low. “What?” 

“I want to break up with you, Donghyuck.”

“What—why—” His eyebrows are sewn together, and you take his hand away from your face, breaking free from his hold. “You’re breaking up with me because I can’t say I love you too?”

“No.” You exhale. “I’m breaking up with you because I feel fine with you not saying it back.”

He stands in silence, then his forced chuckles fill the air. “Babe, what are you talking about—”

“Are you happy with me?” The tremble in your voice has receded. “Be honest. Are you truly happy with me? Or are you just going along with everything because you’re so comfortable—so used to the situation of being with me—that you start to think as long as I’m not hurt, it’s fine. As long as I’m not alone, I can keep going with this relationship, even when I’m with someone who doesn’t truly understand me. Or accept the real me.”

Donghyuck releases the breath he doesn’t know he’s been holding. His voice is a pitch lower when he speaks, bitter and hurt. “Is that how you feel? All this time when we’re together?”

“No.” Your heart still breaks at the sight of his face. “I think I really did love you once, Hyuck. And if you had rejected me a few months earlier, I would’ve probably broken down crying. But now…” You grow stiff, noticing the infuriated look that’s plastered on his face. “I’m sorry.”

Donghyuck stays mute and the silence only adds more tension to the atmosphere. His teeth are grinding against each other when he replies. “Why did you even say you loved me if you weren’t fucking sure about how you felt?”

You twist your finger in the hemline of your shirt, in dire need of something to keep your emotions collected. “I thought it would make us grow closer again. To fix what’s lost between us,” you weakly admit, heart throbbing and breaking at the sight of him. “But then I realized that we shouldn’t say we love someone just because we have to. We should say it because we want to. Because we truly feel that way. But I didn’t feel anything when you didn’t say it back. I only felt… relieved.” 

The enraged look on his face forces you to drag your eyes to your feet and you stay still, breathing as quietly as possible. It’s only when Donghyuck starts to reach for his jacket, muttering, “I’m not having any of these bullshits,” as he walks passes you that you dare to look in his direction.

“How easy for you to put this all on me,” he declares with his fingers lingering on the doorknob, so spitefully it shocks you. “You probably think I’m dumb and insensitive, but I know. I’ve noticed the way you changed ever since you met him.”

“What?” His words feel like a slap to the face. “I don’t—”

“You know,” he cynically laughs into the air, throwing his head back. “Just because you found someone who makes you happy ‘cause he can quote your favorite lines, read your favorite books or listen to the same shit you like, doesn’t mean you can throw me away like I’m some fucking garbage.”

You’re petrified by his words. Somewhere in your head, you keep saying that the reason why you’re breaking up with him is that you’re so different from each other—that there would be little to no chance for the two of you to understand one another even if you’re given all the time in the world. But you can’t deny that there’s a part of you that completely rejects Donghyuck simply because you’ve stopped wanting him as much as you want Jaehyun. 

It sickens you.

“I’m…” It’s suffocating. The tension in the air, his eyes, the way your heartbeat is ramming against your ribcages. “I’m sorry...”

Your apology only aggravates him more and with gritted teeth, Donghyuck slams the door behind him, leaving you alone in the silence of your room.

Your apartment has never felt this big before.

***

It’s funny how you just ended your two years relationship with your boyfriend but Donghyuck isn’t the one you’ve been avoiding for months. It’s Jaehyun.

Something is gnawing at you from the inside, the feeling of guilt as if you just sinned. You didn’t cheat on your boyfriend. Physically, you didn’t. You’re attracted to Jaehyun, everybody would be to someone who owns such a handsome face and delicate features. But it’s more than just physical attraction because when you lay at night in your bed, alone and empty, it’s not his face that comes to mind. It’s the little thing he does, the way he listens to your words so attentively, the way he smiles—happy and sad at the same time, the way he greets you, the way he nibbles at his lower lip as he tries to think of a word to write on his note. 

And the dreams.

The dreams never stop, they only grow stronger. You can remember each and every one of them crystal clear when you wake up. They’re usually different every night but for the last few days, the atmosphere and the surroundings were the same. 

In the dream, you were lying down in a hospital bed, wearing nothing but your white gown, too weak to even lift a finger. Jaehyun was sitting on a wooden chair with a book in his hand—the one that he presented you as a gift in real life—while his other hand was holding yours, thumb tenderly gliding against your knuckles. He seemed much thinner, cheekbones growing prominent with dark eye-bags tainting his pale skin. But his smile was the same, just as warm, just as tender.

He was reading you a story, one that you had memorized by heart from how many times you’ve read it. But it’s different when he read the words out loud, voice melodious and soothing, like a mother’s lullaby. When it was over, he beamed at you, asking, “What’s your favorite part of the story?” And you opened your mouth but no words could come out. You were losing your voice, could only make croaking sounds and even that already put a strain on your body. You could see how much it broke him to hear you struggle but he waited patiently, hand squeezing yours tighter. 

“Me too,” he responded after he heard your answer, kissing your knuckles. “I like that one too.”

In another dream, you saw him sitting at the edge of your bed, his mouth still formed that beautiful, delicate smile, but his eyes were as heavy as the storm. You asked him, why, what’s wrong, trying your best to let your voice break free from your mouth. He brushed his fingers against your cheek, pushing your hair out of your eyes. “I won’t let anything separates us,” he said and it felt more like a promise than how it sounded. “Not time, not death, nothing. I will always be with you.” He let his lips linger on your temple as he whispered the next words. “So it’s okay if you want to sleep. I won’t be going anywhere.”

Then… I’ll see you again when I wake up.

“Yes.” He leaned closer, letting his lips meet your chapped ones in a chaste kiss. “I’ll see you again when you wake up.”

But by the time you opened your eyes, heart thrumming loudly inside your chest, with the sound of the alarm in your phone muffled by your pillow, you knew that in the dream, once you go to sleep, you’d never be able to wake up.

I have to see him.

***

Three months have passed since you last saw him. It’s funny that despite how close you are to each other, know each other like the back of your hand, you just only realize now that you haven’t given him a way to contact you. No home address. No phone numbers. No social media. You’re not even sure what his last name was. You never needed to know his contact details before. Every day, an hour before the sun is replaced by the moon, you will meet each other here in this library—that was the unspoken promise between you and neither of you ever broke it. Not until now. The second you stop coming to the library, you disappear from his life as well, as easy as snapping your fingers.

The quickest way to see him is by visiting the library. Today you will see him. You just have to.

It’s raining hard, hard enough to drench you to your socks, painting shivers to each of your fingertips. It’s a Sunday evening, the sun is an hour away from setting behind the horizon. But with how heavy the rain is going, the day will turn into the night before the sun can shine its light through the clouds again.

Hesitation arises within you as you take shelter on the porch, your shivering fingers circling the doorknob to the library. He might not even be here in this kind of weather, you miserably think to yourself. It wasn’t raining when you took your leave half an hour earlier but you should’ve noticed how thick and dark the clouds were. Your thoughts were too jumbled that you didn’t even think about carrying an umbrella with you.

But you’re already here and if he still keeps his promise…

You take a step inside.

Your clothes are drenched but thankfully they’re not dripping water to the carpeted floor. It’s warmer inside, so warm that you feel like you’re home, sitting close to a fireplace, basking in the scent of sandalwood. Your eyes naturally scan the room, taking a longer glance at the table where you usually sit in front of him, a book in your hands, a smile strapped to your face. Jaehyun’s nowhere to be seen.

He’s not here. Is it because of the rain? Or… Maybe he has stopped coming here to see me. 

You can only realize how important someone is to you when they’re gone and it hurts so much that you have to nip at your lower lip, fingers curling around the end of your sweater. 

I want to see him again…

“You’re here…”

You turn your head to the source of his voice, heart about to burst when you see Jaehyun stopping on his tracks, one hand holding the entrance door open, another one carrying a folded umbrella that drips water to the floor. He’s so stunned at the sight of you, he doesn’t even appear to be breathing. In a whisper, your name breaks free from his lips.

And you run towards him with all your might.

He nearly stumbles from how hard you’re crushing your body against his, his umbrella falling from his grip but he doesn’t push you away. Jaehyun is warm, warmer than everything you’ve ever held and you wonder whether you’re just freezing from the cold or he’s always been this comforting. It feels so natural to stay in his embrace, to be wrapped with his strong arms, to have him whisper your name against the shell of your ear. 

I’ve missed you. I’ve missed you so much.

Jaehyun...

The first tear that slips down your cheek is an accident, as you don’t want him to see you cry. You don’t even know why you’re crying but you can’t stop. You sob against his chest, fingers curling against the fabric of his knitted sweater, gritting your teeth to stop yourself from crying harder but failing every time. 

Jaehyun never breaks away from your embrace. He does not care if people stare, does not listen to the murmurs being exchanged at the back of the room. He pulls you closer, one hand holding you around the waist and the other one stroking your damp hair. “I thought I’d never see you again,” he says, overwhelming you with his scent, his warmth, his voice, his everything and you still want more. His lips nearly brush against the tip of your ear when he whispers, “I’ve missed you.”

Your hands are now fisting the back of his sweater, pressing your cheek to his chest as you muffle your cry, focusing more on the sound of his heartbeat. It feels like a dream, one that you never want to wake up.

It’s only when you have the strength to pull away from him that he releases you. He swipes his thumb under your eye, erasing the stains of your tears. He looks at you in a way that is so different than the way Donghyuck used to. His gaze is softer, a mix between the feeling of relief for having you in his arms and a yearning to have more as if you’re still far away from his reach.

I want him to stare at me like this forever.

“You’re freezing,” he says, noticing the coldness of your cheek against his palm. “Would you like to come over to my place? I can make you something warm.”

You let out a tiny laugh. “That would be nice.”

***

Jaehyun’s sweater is too big that the hem falls to the middle of your thighs. Your clothes are in the dryer, making rumbling noise that’s loud enough to fill the awkward silence between you. Drying your hair with a towel he gave you, you take a seat next to him, careful enough not to invade his personal space too much.

“How are you feeling?” Jaehyun asks, handing you a cup of hot chocolate.

“Warmer now, thanks.” You wrap your fingers around the mug, seeing a cloud of steam erupting from your drink. 

“It’s been a while since we last saw each other. I’m glad you look fine.” 

“I am. I feel fine. More so than I’ve ever been.” And it’s not a lie. Being here with him, despite everything that happened, makes you feel at ease. He makes you feel as if you had been embarking on a trip for so long and now you’re finally home. “Were you, umm…” Were you planning to wait for me at the library? Have you been waiting for me all this time? Or was it just a mere coincidence that we bumped into each other again?

“Were I what?”

“Never mind.” You don’t have the bravery to do it. Flushed, you quickly take a sip of your drink.

“I was about to wait for you,” he suddenly confesses, nearly making you choke. “I was… worried about you. I kept wondering whether something bad happened.” His voice gradually turns into murmurs as he continues. “And I thought... After what happened... You hated me.”

The ticking sound of the clock echoes like thunder when silence hangs in the room. “I would never hate you, Jaehyun…” You’re unconsciously rubbing the edge of your mug with your thumb, eyes fixated on the glass instead of him. “There’s no way I could hate you.”

From the corner of your eyes, you could see him turning his head to face you. “Well, you stopped visiting for three months without leaving a word. It was hard for me to stay positive,” he says, a bit teasingly, “And I had no idea how to contact you either. I didn’t know what else to do but wait in the library every day until I could see you again. So that’s what I did.”

Blood is rushing to your face. He did wait for me. “I’m sorry.”

“Why are you apologizing?” He chuckles and you just realized how much you missed hearing it. “You don’t need to. I’m glad we can meet again.”

“Me too.” You mirror his smile. “You know, you could’ve just looked me up online.”

“Then, why didn’t you?” He asks and your heart stops. “Why didn’t you call me?”

You have to tell him the truth, you owe him that much. “I couldn’t. The way Donghyuck looked at me when I broke up with him made me feel so guilty and I knew I would hate myself even more if I ran back to you right after.”

“Why?” Jaehyun questions in a whisper. “What did you feel guilty for?”

Your heartbeat roars so thunderously loud, you can hear it in your ears. “Because he said the reason why I broke up with him was that… I had feelings for you.”

Jaehyun stays in silence for a few seconds and it drives you insane. Eventually, he leans forward to lay his cup down on the coffee table. “So…” He hesitantly speaks. “Did you tell him he was wrong about that?”

You tighten your hold around your cup. “I…” Taking a deep breath, you confess. “I didn’t.”

And there are so many things to be said, but none of you dares to speak. The silence is deafening, its invisible arms strangling you little by little and you’re trapped, not knowing whether to ask him to respond or just run away before your heart explodes to pieces.

Jaehyun does that look again where he stares at you like you own his heart, giving you the permission to hold it or crush it however you like. “Your hair is still dripping water,” he says, reaching out to place his hands around the towel and gently dab your strands, squeezing out the excess water and he’s so close, you can truly see the color of his eyes. In the soft, yellowish light of his room, they’re a little bit darker, a stark contrast to his pale skin. You’re distracted with the way his eyes shimmer under the light, the way he breathes so softly, warm breath hitting your lips.

And you don’t know who initiate it, but for the next breath you take, you’re gasping for it against his mouth. Jaehyun’s lips move slow against yours, tentative and patient, waiting for you to react. But he doesn’t have to wait, not when you’ve been wanting to do this for so long. Not when both of you have been wishing for it to happen.

If your mind wasn’t too deluded with the thoughts of him, how he feels against your body, how he tastes on your tongue, how the low grunt and moan that escape from the back of his throat successfully send shivers down your spine, you would’ve probably thought about how different he was compared to Donghyuck. Jaehyun was so tender, cradling your figure so gently as if you were about to break into pieces if he moves too fast. His kisses aren’t as rushed and bruising as Donghyuck’s, but they’re deep and just as passionate, if not more. The effects that his lips have on your skin burn stronger than anything you’ve ever felt. And if you thought Donghyuck reminded you of the sun, Jaehyun was the blazing sun himself.

But you couldn’t think of Donghyuck. You can’t think of anything else but Jaehyun. Right now, he’s the only one that matters.

“Push me away anytime you want,” he says, eyes dark and hazy, as he circles a hand around your waist to press your body flat against his chest.

With one hand fisting his collar, you let your lips taste him once more. “I never want you to.”

Your soft gasp is muffled by the skin of his neck when Jaehyun lifts your body off the couch, and you tangle your legs around his waist for support as he carries you toward his bedroom. Despite the growing, overwhelming passion between you, he lies you down so gently on the bed, hovering above you as he paints your name at the skin below your ear. You let out a sigh, pulling him closer and closer until you can sink completely into his warmth. 

No words are being exchanged because they don’t need to. Jaehyun speaks with his eyes, expresses his feelings with his lips, and carves your body with nothing but affection and adoration with his gentle hands. It amazes you how different sex can feel when there are feelings involved. It’s a connection, not just between your body and his but your mind, your soul, and every bit of your heart.

You’re more sensitive to his touch that even the slightest slide of his finger can make you arch your back. Jaehyun swallows every gasp, every moan of his name that tumbles down your lips and you do just the same with his.

He only stops to give you the chance to catch your breath when he’s fully sheathed inside you. His fingers tremble as they caress your face. “Are you okay?” He asks, sounding breathless and hoarse. He looks even more beautiful like this, skin glistening with sweat, lips bruised and swollen by kisses, pale cheeks reddening at the feeling of you peering into his eyes.

You smile, gaze softening. “I’m fine.”

Jaehyun has never looked so content before, so relieved, so happy and it makes you feel something in your stomach—something that you haven’t felt for months—to know that you’re the reason behind his most genuine, beautiful smile. When he whispers, “You don’t know how long I’ve been waiting for you to come back to me,” into your ear, you know that he’s not talking about the time you were absent from the library. His words have more weight to them as if he’s been waiting for you for years as if you once belonged to him before something separated the strings between you.

“I’m going to move, okay?” Jaehyun murmurs against your lips, and you let out a shaky breath, nodding a little.

He takes it slow, waiting for you to adjust to his rhythm as he keeps his eyes on your expression to make sure he’s not hurting you in any way. His eyes are half-lidded, cheeks flushed, lips parted in a small moan, barely audible. He splays one hand on the inner part of your thigh, fingers pressing hard against the supple skin as he pins it down to the bed, spreading your legs wider so he can press himself deeper inside you.

“You’re beautiful,” he whispers against your jawline. “So beautiful…”

You nibble at your lip, circling your arms around his shoulders, raking your nails down his back as he picks up the pace. He’s perfect, he’s so perfect at everything he does—the sway of his hips, the angle, the way he changes from giving shallow to deep thrusts in accordance to your expression, knowing exactly what you need. 

He kisses you every time you give him the chance and it makes everything a lot more intimate, makes you feel more vulnerable, makes you feel more exposed. “I’m in love with you,” he says, forehead pressing against your own. “I’ve always been… All this time…”

There’s a surge of joy washing through your entire body and it’s so intense, you find yourself hiding your face in the crook of his neck, your vision blurred with tears. How can you feel so complete when this is your first time with him?

“Jae—” You gasp, your thighs trembling as you wrap your legs around his hips, arms hugging his shoulders tighter. “Jaehyun, I’m—I’m close—”

At your words, Jaehyun untangles your arms from his body and sits on his heels. He takes a hold of your waist and slams his hips harder to yours, driving you to the edge until you’re left sobbing against the sheets. He pulls away on the last second to finish himself off, tainting your stomach as a low grunt breaks free from the back of his throat. His bangs are falling over his eyes, a bead of sweat rolling down from his chest to his lean stomach and he still looks like a painting, one that you can’t seem to stop admiring.

“Wait, don’t move,” he says as if you had the strength to do so. “I’ll clean you up.”

When he comes back from the bathroom, fully clothed in a white tee and black sweat pants, he takes care of you so attentively, dabbing warm towel along your skin, swatting the bangs out of your eyes. A gentle smile never leaves his face but he blushes whenever your eyes make eye contact, though not as apparent as the shakes on his fingertips. 

“You’re so good at this,” you tease him, propping your elbows on the bed. “Must have a lot of experience with women, I’m sure.”

“I’ve only ever been with you,” he answers and it doesn’t sound like a lie.

“What?”

His movement stops, acknowledging the appalled look on your face. “There’s… something you need to know.” He slips under the comforter, lying down on his side, and makes sure it covers your body to your shoulders to keep you warm. “That day, when we first met… It wasn’t our first time meeting each other.”

“What do you mean?” Your eyebrows are adjoined in the middle. “When did we first meet then?”

Jaehyun falls quiet, eyes searching yours. “In the same library,” he says, “Seventy-four years ago.”

***

“Where are we?” The question leaves your lips as you scan your surroundings. Jaehyun has taken you somewhere you haven’t been before, a rural area in the foothills of Jiri Mountain. After spending more than three hours drive from Seoul, seeing nothing but never-ending roads and traffic signs, it feels refreshing to see a charming little village, blanketed in a snow of white and soft pink, with the sound of water streams soothing your ears and cold wind of April caressing your cheeks.

“Hwagae,” he claims, his hand never leaving yours as he walks next to you, taking shorter strides to match your step. “People usually think that Jinhae is the best place to see cherry blossoms, but for me, it’s here.” He glances at the way your fingers are intertwined with his, smiling timidly to himself. “But maybe due to personal reasons.”

“Well, you’re not lying…” You murmur in awe, eyes widening at the sight of cherry blossoms trees that line the road, following both sides of a turquoise-blue stream, pebbles whisked about in the under wash like pieces of glitter. “It’s beautiful.”

You can hardly pay attention to anything else so when Jaehyun presses a kiss against your hairline, your heart nearly leaps out of your chest. “It is, isn’t it?” He says, pushing some loose strands behind your ear. “Beautiful.”

With his eyes locked with yours, it seems like he’s praising something else and you look away, cheeks heating up at his words. “How long does this road goes?”

“Around four kilometers.” Jaehyun follows your steps. “There are more than a thousand cherry blossom trees around. Locals call this lane the Marriage Road as it is said that lovers who walk hand-in-hand under the trees will get married and live happily ever after.”

He tightens his grips around your hand, and you can swear your palm is getting sweaty from how nervous you are. “You just can’t stop making me blush, can you?”

“I’m just stating out facts.” He chuckles and it’s even more beautiful than the whole scenery. He’s more beautiful than anything you’ve seen. But when he speaks, all trace of humor has dissipated. “You may not remember but... This was the place where I asked you to marry me.”

You have seen it coming but it still shocks you, nonetheless. It’s easier to treat him as a liar who’s telling superstitious stories and pointing things about you because he’s a stalker that knows more about you than he should. But the more he tells his stories, the more they feel like the truth and it’s not just a hunch. His stories are his versions of the dreams you’ve been having. The dreams that you’ve gotten ever since you first met him, and you never told anyone about that.

As you take a seat on the nearest bench, Jaehyun hands you his journal—the one he’s been using to write his novel. “I think it’s time for you to read the story.” But as you reach out to open it, he lays his hand on top of yours. “Before that,” he says, “Remember what I asked you? I want you to guess the ending for me.”

You’ve never thought about it, never imagined how the ending of his story would unravel. He has told you that it was about a pair of lovers meeting each other by fate and separated tragically by death, you knew that much. But anything could’ve separated them, whether it was because of sickness, accident, or simply because of old age, you could’ve guessed wrong. Yet, when your lips moved without thinking, providing answers that make your heart jolt, Jaehyun smiles and says, “Correct.” He then opens the book and gives you the chance to run your eyes through every passage. It’s written in a first-person narrative, allowing you to see through Jaehyun’s eyes as he unveils his story. 

The female lead has your name.

Every line. Every word. Every description. They feel like deja vu and the tiny hairs at your nape begin to raise. Your fingertips tremble as they move to open new pages. These are memories. They truly happened in the past. As you read, you can feel your own coming back, little by little, and by the time you’re halfway through the story, you can guess the next part that’s about to happen or correct little details that may have slipped from his mind.

“They were lilies,” you say, fingers tracing his perfect handwriting. “Not white roses.”

“What?”

“The flowers you gave me on our first anniversary.”

Jaehyun takes a shaky breath, and when he chuckles it sounds like a peal of tiny laughter and a choked sob at the same time. “Is that so?” He weakly asks, fixing his gaze to his lap. “I’m sorry, I must have forgotten.”

But he remembers everything else, everything that matters, even the way he felt back then. You could tell the love he once experienced with you through his eyes, the longing he has suffered as he waits for you to remember him once more, and the agony of being separated from you.

It’s easier to cry than to breathe when the memories of your past life start to dawn on you but you provide your best effort to stay reserved. There are more you need to learn.

The reason why he visited the library was not because he lived nearby. He moved there so he could visit the library, as it was the first time he met you in the previous life. “I was hoping she would remember the place as it was something we both grew fond of,” Jaehyun wrote in his journal, “She always thought I had a passion for books. She was wrong. She was the one who taught me that stories could mean something more. That they could make you feel alive, make you feel something you’ve never experienced just by words. I’d like to believe that these stories were the ones who brought us together, so we could create our own and maybe then, we could inspire other people—to make them feel alive with our stories.

I waited for her every day, from one season to another. The memories I have of her have always been there with me ever since I could remember, but that did not guarantee hers would resurface. Maybe she was looking for me. Maybe she was not. Either way, I couldn’t give up. I would not give up. 

And finally, one day, I saw her again. In the same library, with the same little smile she always had whenever she had her eyes fixated on her book. She appeared exactly the same as the first time I met her 74 years ago. I could not breathe, trapped between reaching out to her or just standing still in the distance, because when our eyes met for a brief second, she looked away. 

She did not remember me.

I was crushed. Devastated. I was nothing but a stranger. Twenty-five years I had been searching for her and now that she stood before me, I lost the ability to speak. It took me another week until I could find the bravery within me. I tried my best to appear as nonchalant as possible, even when my heart was breaking, even when my hands were shaking. I sank my nails into my palms so I wouldn’t take her hand and pull her into my embrace. When she told me her name, I was shocked. Her last name was different but her first name was the same, and I wanted to laugh. Fate could be so cruel, letting her keep her name but not her memories. 

But memories could be re-created, and I learned that none of her habits had changed. I might be a stranger, but to me, she was not. She was my wife and I wanted to hold her. I wanted to tell her I love her and hear her say the words back to me. I was ready to start over, to make her fall in love with me once more but before I could even begin, I learned that she had belonged to someone else.

And what killed me was that… She did not look happy with him.”

Your breathing stalls. Everything makes sense now. He’s been holding everything to himself. This was the secret he kept from you. And that time when he almost kissed you… What did you say to him?

“Please don’t pretend, not when you’re with me.”

That’s what he did. He stopped pretending. 

And you pushed him away, treating both of your feelings and his like a mere high school crush when they were something deeper than anything you’ve ever had. 

You place your lower lip between your teeth, nibbling at it until it grows white. He must have been so hurt, you realize, I’m the worst.

“Are you okay?” Jaehyun asks, reaching out to take your hand. “You don’t have to read it if you don’t want to.”

“No, I—” You shake your head, hoping the tears won’t fall. You give him a reassuring smile. “I want to. I need to remember.” Your smile doesn’t deceive him but he gives you the space you need, believing the honesty in your words.

Your marriage with him only lasted for four years before you passed away in your sleep, your weak lungs could no longer support your system, and through his story, you learned that Jaehyun followed you to the place he shouldn’t have. Because just a few minutes later after you took your final breath, he slit both of his wrists with a knife and hugged your body close to his chest, his blood drenching the white sheets underneath. His lips lingered against your hairline as he spoke, “I’ll see you again when you wake up.”

His neat handwriting starts to turn into dark splotches of ink as it is tainted by your tears. You’ve remembered. You’ve remembered everything. Everything that makes you happy and everything that hurts, you’re reliving each and every one of them. 

“Why?” You sob, shoulders quivering as you try to keep your emotions contained. “Why did you do that? You could’ve lived for many more years. Could’ve found someone else.” You bury your face in your palms, voice muffled by your skin. “You could’ve been happy without me.”

You can’t see how he looks at you, can’t feel his touch as he’s nowhere near, but you hear him take his breath. “My mother used to say,” he says, “that two people who are meant to be would always find their way to each other, even in the afterlife.” Jaehyun moves and kneels on the ground in front of you, his hands prying yours away from your face and his smile has never looked this blissful. “That’s why,” he continues, voice so soft it’s almost as light as the wind. “If there’s a chance, no matter how little it is, for me to see you again I would gladly trade my eternity for it.”

There are emotions you can’t explain, ones that you can’t understand. Emotions that make you cry as if the world was ending but also ones that make you feel so blessed to be born into this world, to be able to see him again, to witness his beautiful smile, his beautiful soul, and the beautiful love he has for you.

“Why are you crying?” Jaehyun chuckles softly but the quiver in his voice betrays him. He strokes your cheek, drying your tears with the pad of his thumb. 

Leaning into his touch, you sob against his palm, “I love you,” you confess, “I love you, Jaehyun. Even if my memories never came back, I’d still fall in love with you. Over and over again. I’m sorry you had to wait—”

Jaehyun abruptly stands on his knees, pulling you into his embrace. As your eyes widen in surprise, he buries his face in the crook of your neck, whispering, “If I had to wait a thousand years to be able to have this one moment with you, I’d gladly do it in a heartbeat.” His shoulders begin to shake and you wrap your arms around them, drenching the fabric of his shirt with your tears. “I love you too.”

There’s a voice inside your head that says, ah... so this is how it feels. 

Love... is not so complex after all. It doesn’t have to be. It’s not something to be understood. It’s not something to be thought endlessly. It’s not a choice to be made.

It’s a feeling, and feelings are meant to be felt. And you realize that happiness does not only emerge when your love is answered with the same passion. Happiness is already there in your heart just by loving him. You love him. You just love him. Entirely. Infinitely. 

So you kiss him with the biggest smile you can make, you pull him close with every strength that you have and you let him stay. In this life or another, you will let him stay.

And you will see him again when you wake up.

***

[not-the-tie-youre-looking-for]

Something that's been bugging me for years since the Legends finale. If Zhan had been the writer for Rebels, do you think he would have had Thrawn bomb Lothal to bring Ezra out? On the one hand, from Legends Thrawn's portrayal I imagine he would without a second of hesitation. On the other, Canon Thrawn has been much more... restrained? And on a third point, there's the fact that Legends and Canon Thrawn seem like they really could be the same person just at different points of time. cnt in next

...I'm just curious if anyone else was curious if Zhan agreed with that direction taken. Which, on that note, did Zhan ever say anything about his thoughts on how Rebels handled Thrawn? Both from a writing standpoint as well as an acting and musical one (Thrawn's various leitmotifs)?

Oh man. Ohhhhhhhh maaaaan. My friend, you have asked exactly the right person this question, because not only have I wanted to talk about this multiple times before, but I also have ~receipts~. 👀

⚠️Spoiler warnings for Star Wars: Rebels, The Mandalorian, the canon Star Wars novels Thrawn, Thrawn: Alliances, Thrawn: Treason, Thrawn Ascendency: Chaos Rising, and Thrawn Ascendency: Greater Good, and the legends Star Wars novels Heir to the Empire, Dark Force Rising, The Last Command, and Outbound Flight.⚠️

Oh man. Where to begin.

Lets start with who Thrawn is, because depending on who you ask, you're gonna get different answers—whether you're strictly a Legends fan, Dave Filoni, a guy who's only seen Thrawn in Star Wars: Rebels, Timothy Zahn, or just a writer/artist fan like me.

To Timothy Zahn, the man behind our favorite chiss, Thrawn is a character that is constant in both attitude and personality throughout all of his content. In multiple interviews, ranging from Thrawn's debut in Rebels to the latest about the writing of the Ascendancy Trilogy, Zahn states that Thrawn in canon and Thrawn in Legends are indistinguishable.

And so I present the receipts:

In a 2017 interview with The Verge on writing the first canon Thrawn book Thrawn, Zahn is asked the following question and responds as such:

How do you navigate bringing back a character who already has an extensive backstory and audience expectations, with telling a new story that fits in the new continuity?

Actually, I didn’t find that to be a problem. I’d never written Thrawn in this part of the Star Wars timeline, so it was simply a matter of bringing him into the Empire and chronicling his rise through the ranks. It’s still the same character as in the 1990s books, just a decade or two younger and in a very different military and political environment.

In another interview with The Verge in 2018 (a few months after the finale of Rebels aired) about writing Thrawn: Alliances, he repeats this sentiment twice:

Thrawn feels like if it had been written before the canonization purge a couple of years ago, or if you squinted a bit, it would serve as a perfect setup for Heir to the Empire.

Oh, I don’t think you need to squint at all. I wrote him in these two books to fit in with everything else I’d done. So if someone at Lucasfilm snapped their fingers, and suddenly all of my other books were canon, and there would be no real retrofitting that would have to go in. It would all fit together.

Thrawn: Alliances feels more at home in the new canon, especially because Thrawn has been fleshed out a bit more in Rebels. Was there any adjustments for that?

Not really. I’m getting to play with more canon characters like Vader and Padmé and Anakin, but the character himself, I still see him as the same person. He’s got goals, and he won’t necessarily share them with you, but he as long as you’re going the same direction, he’s happy to cooperate and assist along the way.

...and this is referenced again in a 2020 interview with Polygon about writing Thrawn Ascendancy: Chaos Rising:

Along with Thrawn’s appearance in Rebels, Zahn would pen a new novel, Thrawn, that chronicled the character’s early days as an Imperial officer. Zahn didn’t have to change anything with the character, telling me in 2017 that “he’s like an old friend who I understand completely.” While Heir to the Empire was no longer canon, a reader could easily read Thrawn as a precursor to that classic novel. Thrawn went on to become a major presence in Rebels, and Zahn continued to explore his origins in Thrawn: Alliances and Thrawn: Treason.

The next day, an interview with IGN was published on the same subject:

Thrawn is an especially unique case because Zahn has been able to effectively continue the work he started way back in 1991 with Heir to the Empire. That novel may not be a part of official Star Wars lore any longer, but as Zahn explained, Thrawn himself is basically the same character regardless of continuity.

[....] The closest comparison between Chaos Rising and Zahn's earlier EU work is probably 2006's Outbound Flight, which is set during the Clone Wars and details the first encounter between Thrawn and the Galactic Republic (while also retroactively laying the groundwork for elements of Heir to the Empire). That novel is no longer canon, but Zahn told us he prefers to operate as if it were. He's making a concerted effort not to retread the same ground as Outbound Flight and to avoid contradicting the events of that novel as much as possible.

So yeah. In Zahn's opinion, Legends Thrawn is Canon Thrawn is Book Thrawn, and there is no difference whatsoever between Thrawns in, say, Outbound Flight, Heir to The Empire, Alliances, and Chaos Rising. I wholeheartedly disagree, but lets move on.

Now that the books are out of the way, its time for Rebels.

In July of 2016, after the trailer announcing Thrawn's canon debut aired, Dave Filoni had the following to say about Thrawn's character in regards to Timothy Zahn:

“I was pretty adamant with a couple of people saying, ‘Listen, we need to have Tim sign off on this. This is kind of a waste of time [otherwise],'” says Filoni. “We, of course, can do what we want with a character that Lucasfilm owns, but without Tim’s okay, what does it mean? That’s not going to be good. Once we had some stuff, we wanted to do what we thought was right and make the character. Then we brought him in. We had the production fully prepared. I said, ‘Look, if there’s something that Tim says that I think is really valuable, even if it changes something dynamically, we need to be ready for that and see what we can do.’ I wanted to make sure we did this right by everybody. We brought him in and we didn’t really tell him why. We just flew him up to Lucasfilm and sat him down in a theater and said, ‘Hey, we’re bringing Thrawn into the show.’ He was like, ‘Wow.’ and I said, ‘Yeah, wow. And I’m going to show him to you right now and you let me know what you think.'”

(Before we continue, keep that first highlighted sentence in mind for future reference. I'm going to come back to that later.)

Fortunately, Timothy Zahn was delighted at the show’s approach to the Empire’s imposing blue-skinned Chiss.

“We showed him some of the scenes with him,” Dave Filoni recalls. “He looked like a kid in a candy store. I think it meant a lot to him not just because it was his character, but because you have to imagine what he went through when it was announced that everything is Legends now, not Expanded Universe. I get that and I’ve always appreciated the work that goes into the Expanded Universe… For Tim, I think it was us saying, ‘No, no, no. We really like your character. We want him to be part of the real thing. The canon universe.'”

So in 2016, before we even saw Thrawn in action beyond a trailer, we were told that Zahn gave the OK, and he was chill with the way Thrawn was created in the show. In 2017, he gave a little more of the background of this process in an interview with FANgirl Blog:

The events of Thrawn dovetail closely with Rebels and shed light on some of Thrawn’s more seemingly surprising actions on the show, like when he appears to lose his temper and yell at Lieutenant Lyste. What was it like to see Thrawn come alive onscreen? Is he how you’ve pictured him in your head?

I don’t see my characters in terms of voice or appearance, but rather as personality or attitude. That said, I very much enjoyed the way the Rebels team brought him to life, in his appearance, voice, and actions.

I also appreciated the freedom I had to tweak certain incidents, such as the one you mentioned, and give additional or alternate explanations for the viewers who may have thought those were somewhat out of character for him.

He doesn't really elaborate on this, but we can assume he had SOME creative input on Thrawn's character, and he was overall pretty happy with the choices made in the show.

But then, we have this from that earlier 2017 the Verge article:

When did you learn that Dave Filoni was intending to bring Thrawn to Rebels, and did you have any input into how the character would be handled?

[...] I didn’t have any real input into how Thrawn was going to be handled, mainly because the lead time of an animated series is so long that much of season 3 had already been finished. But I trusted Dave and the team to do the character right. After all, why bring him into Rebels if you were going to drastically change him? Having seen the entire season now, I think we can agree that my trust was completely justified.

So... he didn't have "any real input," but was satisfied with it in the end? I guess? I don't know. We're getting into some contradictions now.

The last thing I've got in regards to Rebels is an interview Zahn did with the YouTube channel Star Wars Explained after the finale aired, where he responds to the following:

“So, maybe let's jump over to Rebels for a little bit. Now that it has wrapped up, how do you feel Thrawn was represented in Star Wars: Rebels?”

“They did a really good job—they not only understood the character and how to write for him, but they also understood the meta around how you defeat him. The only way to defeat Thrawn is to throw something at him he can't control, or can't anticipate. Given perfect knowledge and control, Thrawn will always find a way to win. But they understood, this is how you defeat him, these are the things we can use against him... so his portrayal in general, is very good; he's smart, he's anticipating, he's a step ahead of everybody, he's looking at clues and picking up on them, so I was very pleased with how the Rebels team handled the character."

I think these quotes answer many of your questions, so to answer your initial question: If Zhan had been the writer for Rebels, do I think he would have had Thrawn bomb Lothal to bring Ezra out?

Yes—but ONLY because at that point, the only established™️ Thrawn content was found in Legends, where Thrawn was a ruthless and calculating warlord.

However!

I do believe that if given the chance to re-write the Star Wars: Rebels finale using his now-canon novels as a solid background TODAY, Zahn would choose to not let Thrawn bombard Lothal's Capital City.

I believe this because he made one single very interesting creative choice when writing Thrawn that completely overwrote Thrawn's pre-established Rebels character: Thrawn was not responsible for the civilian deaths on Batonn—Pryce was.

And that's that on that.

A few months ago I would have ended it there, but today, Thrawn's story is no longer just contained in the novels and Rebels, but also in that of The Mandalorian.

This is where I will proudly say I have no idea what the fuck is going on. Before The Jedi aired, I was 100% sure that the next time we saw Thrawn, it would be nowhere NEAR the Empire, because Zahn was pretty adamant in the novels that Thrawn was only in the Empire to help. His. People.

So now he's apparently doing fuck-knows-what in fuck-knows-where and is STILL associated with the Seventh Fleet and Imperial Warlords???

Huh??? Despite the fact that he held no true loyalty to the Empire or to the Emperor??? It's been months and I'm still confused as fuck. Add to the fact that Zahn also doesn't know what the fuck is going on to the equation and we get a big fat question mark with one pretty clear answer that Filoni said himself that we have to keep in mind:

"We, of course, can do what we want with a character that Lucasfilm owns."

So I don't think Zahn has much control over Thrawn as we would all like to think. We can hope he gives us the crazy Thrawn and Ezra Space Adventure™️ novel all we want, but ultimately, Thrawn's fate does not rest in his hands.

If you guys have more to add please let me know!!! This is, obviously, a topic I am very passionate about, so I'd love to hear your thoughts!

[ks-dreams-fantasies]

Hi can I request like a vinnie x reader like the reader wrote deja vu by olivia rodrigo (let’s pretend the reader wrote it and released it) and when the music video got posted on yt yall watch it together with the hype house members and when it finish your crying (tears of joy) and vinnie is proud of her and the other hype house congratulated the reader and thomas and alex filming everyone’s reactions and later thats night the reader and the other hypehouse member are hanging out in the living room and vinnie is all cuddled up to the reader and mia ask who’s the song abt and the reader said its abt vinnie and she explained it that she wrote the song when they broke up and vinnie got with another girl and everyone is shock.. you ucan continue it and do whatever you want in the end thank youu<33

Déjà Vu - Vinnie Hacker

Sooooo, I feel like this wasn't my best piece but I hope you still like it. I love Olivia Rodrigo 👀 I just can’t imagine Vinnie breaking someone’s hearts tbh, he looks way to sweet 

Warning : None

Word Count : 1.2k

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Today was an important day for you and your career. Your debut single Déjà vu was coming out and you couldn’t stop yourself from being excited but nervous at the same time. Having been doing covers of your favorite songs on social media for the last 2 years, fans wouldn’t stop asking you when your own music would come out. Today was the day they would hear your ideas for the first time in what seems like forever. You had posted little bits of some compositions you had made but never did you post a clip over 15 seconds long, let alone a full song.

You had been recording a lot in the past few weeks and when you presented the lyrics to Déjà vu to the producers, they fell in love with it. In all honesty you didn’t think it would be one of their favorites since it was sad and angry. You had written these lyrics a while back when you and your now boyfriend were apart. You and Vinnie had been good friends since the moment you had met. Being two growing TikToker, you found yourself hanging in the same places with the same group of friends.

Your relationship was complicated to say the least, you both knew you had feelings for each other, but he wasn’t ready to be in a relationship at the time and you were afraid to get into one as well. It didn’t stop the both of you of doing everything together, you were inseparable. From sharing one spoon to eat your favorite strawberry ice cream, to sharing clothes, you did everything a couple would do. All went crashing down the day you went on a trip with your best friends, a bunch of pictures of Vinnie and a blonde girl holding hand and sharing ice cream, laughing, came flooding the internet. You couldn’t believe what you were seeing, the guy you liked, the guy you thought liked you too was with another women having the time of his life not even giving the time of day.

A few days after you came back from your trip, Vinnie had texted you, but you had decided to ignore him, staying in your room writing down into your notebook. That’s how the lyrics for your new song were created.

After that, things got awkward between the two of you, both of you having the same friend group, hanging out wasn’t easy. He would often bring his new friend with him and the situation made you uncomfortable and sad. They would share moments together, moment you first had with Vinnie, moments you thought belong to the two of you. The girl even posted pictures of places Vinnie would bring her to, places you showed him first.

A few months past and the two of them broke up, leaving the majority of your friends and yourself happy. Soon enough, Thomas invited you to move into the Hype House and you did. You and Vinnie got back to talking frequently and he one day asked you to lunch which you agreed to. You decided to give him a second chance and soon enough he asked you to be his girlfriend. Everyone had been talking about your relationship, approving of your love. The fans were mostly happy, some of them were mad that Vinnie found a new girlfriend, but for the most part, everyone was supportive.

Four weeks later, here you were, all sitting in the backyard waiting for the show to start. Your roommates had decided to surprise you with a nice diner, and they had set up an outdoor projection screen for the release of your debut single. Vinnie had his arms wrapped around you as the both of you sat down on a huge bean bag next to the others. You were all laughing and talking when the voice of the presenter got your attention.

“She’s been getting more and more popular over the past two years and fans had been waiting for her to drop her own music. From singing covers of her favorite songs on the internet to now coming out with her own song, this artist is destinate to a great career. We had the pleasure of getting the exclusivity of her debut single and videoclip, here is Déjà vu by (Y/F/N)”

The screen changed quickly, your face appearing as you licked some ice cream in a convertible. You had told Vinnie about the song a few weeks prior since it was about him. You could feel his arm tightened around you as he kissed your temple

“I’m so proud of you baby” he whispered so only you could hear. You smiled feeling the tears well up in your eyes, realizing how far you’ve come. It wasn’t always easy, but you were doing what you loved with the people who you cherished most. Once the videoclip ended, everyone was clapping making you laugh slightly as tears poured out your eyes.

“OMG! This song is so good (Y/N)” Kouvr said smiling widely as you turned towards her, seeing Alex filming.

“It is, and the video is great” Thomas continued

“Thank you, guys! You’re too kind, you’ve been supporting me from the beginning, and I couldn’t thank you enough for that” you said wiping your tears, looking at them.

“I could never do what you do, you’re so creative, where do you get all your inspiration from? Like for this song, I didn’t know you had all these emotions built up” Mia said, questioning you. You felt yourself tense up as Vinnie rubbed your arms softly.

“It was from an old relationship, all is good now” you shrugged, trying to avoid the question

“Well, this guy seems like he made a big mistake, who would do this to you?” Michael said trying to light up the mood

“Actually, it was me” Vinnie spoke as everyone looked at him with big eyes, including you.

“I’m sorry. What?” Kouvr was the first one to speak

“I was a dick to her two years ago, and I know I broke her hearth. I still regret it to this day and I’m sorry about everything” Vinnie stated now looking at you deeply

“I decided to forgive you and give you another chance and look where that has gotten us. I was scared at first, because of what had happened, but you proved me wrong. You showed me that you’ve changed and that you weren’t that guy anymore. You make me feel so special and I feel so lucky to have you”

“I love you baby, and I’m so proud of you” he said before kissing you tenderly, his tongue finding your bottom lip, making you smile slightly against his mouth

“Okay guys, get a room” Alex said, pushing Vinnie slightly

“We’ll gladly do that” he stood up, offering you his hand to help you do the same

“Stop” you said swatting his chest softly, laughing “Thank you guys so much for this perfect evening, I couldn’t wish for better friends”

“We love you (Y/N)” Mia said bringing you into a tight hug “And you” she said pointing at your boyfriend “If you break her hearth, I’ll have to kill you”

“Don’t worry, I won’t make this mistake a second time”

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

Thanks for reading

Hope you liked it, let me know what you think

-K

[calumxkisses]

Sleep On The Floor | c.h.

pairing: calum hood x reader

genre: fluff

warnings: none

summary: life’s getting dark grey, lucky for you, Calum is ready to show you all the colors - or maybe that’s what you dream about.  

a/n: hi beautiful angels, i’m back! sorry for being away fr such a long time but i was studying and trying my best to stay alive. today’s also my birthday and i wanted to thank all of you for loving my past serie. i love every single on of you.

this imagine its inspired by the song: sleep on the floor 

♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥

The music is loud, the same songs are repeated continuously but the constant talk and the drinks make it difficult to notice the monotony of these parties. It is a monotony that you relive every weekend since you started working in the music industry and it doesn’t depend on the place, the week or the event, the same things repeat themselves over and over again.

Dark grey. It’s the color that you best associate to this situation. It’s that color that makes you think about factories, workers in line, controlled by rules and by a world that leaves no room for creativity, for change, for a better world. You remember that Charlie Chaplin’s movie that your professor made you watch in school and the way he ends up living an adventure. Will that happen to you too? It’s just a party, you think, but because it’s a party you shouldn’t feel this way. 

You’ll take a plane tomorrow and you’ll end up in another city that you won’t visit because there’ll be no time. After the concert or the interview, you’ll end up in some hidden place dancing and drinking and the day after another plane or bus will be waiting for you. And when the tour ends, you’ll be able to breathe. 

The girl in front of you keeps talking about the promotion she got at work, but you stopped listening to her a long time ago. Didn't she get the promotion last week? Or was it another girl? Maybe she was the one who had just returned from a business trip? 

Across the room, a few steps away from you, Calum, Luke and Roy are talking about the new album the band is working on, the new genre they are experimenting with and the lyrics they enjoy writing but will never release. They spend their days like this, searching for new sounds and writing lyrics about salads and strange places where they get lost.

You look around before your gaze gets placed in front of you and you notice that Calum is looking at you too, his curly hair with shades of blonde free from any beanie and he’s still wearing the leather jacket. His eyes stare at you and a little grin forms on his lips. Without realizing it, you slowly approach each other. 

“It doesn't look like you're having fun.” 

“My stomach hurts from how much I’m laughing.” You say in a sarcastic tone, your face expressing your emotion. 

“What’s going on? Are you okay?” Calum knows you. He knows your need to break free from the world and the way you love everything that is extraordinary. He needs that too, he wants to have the possibility to just be him and not the bassist from 5 Seconds Of Summer, but he’ll never tell you this, he won’t give you the satisfaction of being right. But you know. 

“No, I'm just tired of always doing the same things.” You say dramatically, sighing.

“Then let's do something different.”

“Like what? Playing hide and seek instead of beer pong?” 

“No, let’s leave. We have a couple of hours before this party ends and nobody will notice our absence anyway. Let’s do something different for once.” 

You smile. He’s trying to relieve your suffering and you appreciate that.  

Calum walks away for a moment and when he returns, your jacket is in his hand and no longer on the couch. He throws it at you and offers you his hand. “A Taxi is already waiting for us outside. What do you think?” His smile is wide on his face, but not as big as the one that forms on your face when you grab his hand and drag him out.

You both laugh as you get into the car, your adrenaline is running high and you already feel better. The driver smiles at the scene, Calum whispers something in his ear and then sits back on the seat, his eyes following your body before looking in your eyes. 

“I didn’t know you could speak French.” You say looking at his face. 

“There’s a lot of things that you don’t know about me, love.” He says before looking in front of him, mentally trying to remember the name of the streets. His side profile is lightened by different colors as you pass all the different neons of the shops of the city.

The window on your right is slightly lowered. You rest your head on his shoulder and close your eyes, the wind brushes your face and the noise of the city is like a melody in your ears. Calum kisses your hair and rests his head on yours. 

You’re in a car, just the two of you stuck in traffic, yet you feel like you are in a different world, in a world of constant change, where everything happens only once and you are ready to treasure every second of it. 

You don’t know how many minutes have passed by before Calum taps on your shoulder and whispers, “Look.” before pointing to his left. You open your eyes and the Arc de Triomphe lights up the city. It’s a masterpiece that reigns in the French city. It’s fully illuminated and stands powerful in the center of the rotunda.

“Wow.” It's the only thing you can say as you get closer to the window to get a better look. The driver chuckles at your reaction. You are too distracted by the beauty of the monument to notice the way Calum looks at you, lost in the way the lights illuminate your face and the way your hand is in his, as if they were made to hold only each other. 

All the cars are driving past the monument as if it was nothing, probably used to the view, but you can’t get enough of the magical feeling that you feel just by looking at it.

As the Arc de Triomphe is now behind you, you sit back in your seat, your mouth still slightly open from the astonishment of the sight. They might have been some of the most intense minutes you’ve ever experienced.

“Everytime we finish a show here, we always ask to pass by here. After the confusion of the concert, this view always manages to bring peace. Usually we are always exhausted but we try to stay awake as much as possible to not miss this view.” He whispers, looking out and smiling at the memories. 

“I know how much you daydream and how much you like these views and as soon as they gave us the tour dates, I immediately asked to let you come with us. I knew you would like it.” 

The idea that Calum has thought of you, especially in this occasion, warms your heart. He’s not a person who expresses what he feels, he finds it difficult to open up to the world and to the people around him and you know that that's his way of showing that he cares, by gestures, thoughts and small details.

“Thank you, Calum. We passed here yesterday and it was magical in the sun, I didn't expect to love it even more at night.”

The car crosses a bridge and the Seine is illuminated, leading you to fall even more in love with this city. It is definitely the most romantic city in the world, as everyone says.

“Close your eyes.” Calum whispers, taking your hand and putting them on your eyes.

“Wait, why? What are you doing?” You ask but he stays silent. Your heart beats fast. 

Before you know it, the car stops and Calum talks to the driver. You are tempted to open your eyes and peek but the idea that he has decided to surprise you makes you feel too much guilt to do it so you decide to keep your hands on your face.

Calum opens the door, “Give me your hand but keep your eyes closed, okay?” You nod before holding out your hand. He grabs it and, being careful not to hurt you, he gets you out of the car.

You walk  for a while, the noise of the stones is loud as you walk on them and the wind ruffles your hair.

“Keep your eyes still closed for a moment.” He whispers in your ear making you feel chills all over your body.

You feel him moving away and you try to use your senses to understand where you are. You hear people talking in the distance, the noise of some cars behind you as you play with your fingers to entertain yourself while you wait. You aren’t afraid, there’s no single cell in your body that feels fear, you trust him too much to think about the idea that he left you there. He would be ready to climb the highest mountain and cross the hottest deserts to come to you, there’s no emergency that’ll let him leave your side. 

Since the first moment his eyes saw you, he knew that he couldn’t let you go.

You feel someone stand in front of you before you hear him speak: “Okay, you can open your eyes now.”

Calum is standing in front of you, he’s looking straight in your eyes to see your reaction. He’s holding a red rose in his right hand and a huge smile is on his lips. Behind him, the Eiffel Tower is majestic, a source of light in the dark of the night. You’re left speechless, the magic you’re living is impossible to explain with words. It seems like billions of stars are joined by surrounding the structure, illuminating it and making it something eternal.  

There are a few people in the distance, taking photos of the structure and laughing at each other. 

There’s a musician on the side of the tower, she’s playing songs that you’re not familiar with and yet they seem to be perfect for this moment. They might be love songs, or even sad songs, but the melody envelops the atmosphere that surrounds you, making you look like the protagonists of a dream.

“Calum.” It’s the only thing you’re able to say. He’s standing there, between you and the Eiffel Tower, one of the most beautiful attraction in the entire world and yet his beauty almost steals the spotlight. But he’ll never know.

He grins and turns around to admire the structure. You reach to take your phone from the pocket of your jacket and take a picture of him, of the Tower, of everything that is surrounding you. Something to look at when you’ll need to think about a happy memory. 

“I’m in love. That’s it. I know what love looks like now.” You said admiring the view. 

“With me?” He looks at you smiling.

“You wish, don’t you?.” 

He laughs and there’s no sound that could be better than that. Not even a view could be more beautiful. Calum Hood laughing in front of the Eiffel Tower, in the middle of the night, surrounded by stars is a sight that no one will ever experience and you hold this moment close to your heart.

“I’m moving here.” You say after a few minutes of silence. 

“You can’t.” 

“Why?” 

“I can’t live without you.” Your heart skips a beat. “How am I supposed to wake up on time and to go to all my appointments if you don’t remind me?” You both laugh. 

“Fine, I’ll honor you with my presence for a little while longer.” 

“Thank you.” 

For a moment, you look straight into each other's eyes. The world seems to stop, except for the Tower and the music in the distance. Calum takes a piece of your hair behind your ear and you can see your reflection in his eyes. 

“It’s getting late, we should go.” He whispers close to your lips.

“Do we really have to go?” You want to close your eyes but you can’t seem to leave the sight of his face. A face that you see everyday but that you can’t get enough of. 

“Yeah but this’ll be our little secret. A place that you can escape to when you’re tired of the world. It’s gonna be here-” He says before pointing to your mind, “-and here.” He stops pointing to your heart and for a second you stop breathing.

“We have too many secrets, Calum.” You say as he takes your hand and walks towards the Taxi. You can’t see his face but his body language is telling you that he’s smiling.

He opens the door of the car and gets in and you follow him, not before looking at the Eiffel Tower one last time and taking a deep breath. 

The drive back to the party passes quickly and silently, your head is again resting on Calum's shoulder and his head is resting on yours, your hands are intertwined as you play with your fingers while the stereo plays slow, almost inaudible music.

“We are here.” The driver says with a strong accent and you realize that you're back in that building. You both get out of the car and while Calum pays for the ride, you look around you. 

“It’s okay to escape reality every once in a while, as long as you remember to come back to reality to me.” He whispers while you get inside the house and you look at him confused before noticing the scene in front of you. 

As you enter through the big door, you see that everything looks exactly as when you left. People are doing the same things they were doing before and while you throw your jacket on the couch, you notice that the stereo is playing the same playlist it was playing a couple of hours ago. 

Calum is back at talking with Roy and Luke, he’s holding a drink and he’s laughing at something his friend is saying.

You go back to the group you were with at the start of the party, nobody seemed to have noticed your absence. The girl in front of you keeps talking about the promotion she got at work but you’re not really listening. 

You look around before your gaze gets placed in front of you and you notice that Calum is looking at you too, he gives you a questioning look and winks before turning his attention back to his friends.

You smile.

[nerdzzone]

Only For A Moment: July

Summary: A series of shorter one shots from Chris and Whitney’s life together throughout the pandemic. Some happy times, some harder times, some fluff and some things a little more sexy - they work through it all as they try to get settled in their new and blossoming relationship.

Chris Evans x OFC

Part of the Once Bitten/More Hearts series

Only For A Moment: June

-----

July 2020

Chris was stressed.

It was understandable as he'd just launched his new endeavour - A Starting Point - but it was worrying me how anxious and overwhelmed he seemed to be. The feedback so far had been good, but he was still concerned about how it was going to be received and whether or not people would actually find it useful. He had several long, full days of interviews scheduled to promote it and explain what they hoped to achieve and, after the first week, he was exhausted which made him moody and withdrawn.

It didn't help that Grayson had quickly adjusted to having our undivided attention and was growing increasingly frustrated with his dad's busy schedule. The Friday after the launch, Chris promised him that he'd be done by bedtime so he could tuck him in, but technical difficulties got in the way and he was once again stuck in front of his laptop until well into the evening.

And that was where I found him, at almost nine o'clock, when I went to see if he'd be finished anytime soon. I'd poked my head around the door and saw him sat at his desk with his head in his hands and the sight made my heart ache.  Sneaking up behind him, I wrapped my arms around his shoulders.

"Hey," I greeted him softly. "How are you doing?"

"I'm fine," he assured me, but the sigh that followed told me otherwise. "Just tired. It's been a busy week."

"It has. We've missed you."

My words weren't meant to add guilt to his stress, but I realized my mistake when he winced.

"Sorry," he mumbled, placing a kiss on my arm where it rested across his chest. "I did try to finish early today - I suggested we push the last interview until tomorrow when we hit the connection issues, but they weren't having it. Was Grayson mad that I missed bedtime again?"

"Not mad," I shrugged. "Just a bit disappointed."

Chris' head fell forward and his shoulders stiffened.

"That's worse."

"No, it's not," I insisted, squeezing him tightly. "He was just a little sad, but he got over it. I promised him that you'd do something fun with him when you weren't so busy and he accepted that."

"I was actually thinking of taking him to the museum to see the dinosaur exhibit," Chris admitted. "They just reopened, but he'd have to wear a mask."

"He'd love that," I smiled, knowing how much both of them loved their father and son days. We'd made an effort to give him more one on one time, but it was limiting when we hadn't been able to leave the house much until recently. "And I think he'd be okay with a mask. We can order one and get him to wear it at home for a bit to get used to it."

"Good idea," Chris nodded. "I can do that tomorrow"

"Or I can," I suggested, kissing the side of his head. "You're busy enough at the moment. And you're stressed, I can feel the tension in your shoulders."

Chris sighed again and I felt a pang of sympathy for him.

"I know. This project just means a lot to me. I want it to do well."

"And it is," I reminded him as an idea hit me. "C'mon, I know what you need to help you relax."

"Oh, yeah?" Chris smirked and I rolled my eyes as his mind had clearly gone straight to something dirty. "What would that be?"

"Probably not whatever you're thinking of," I informed him. "But there's some pizza left in the kitchen. Go have a slice of that and then meet me in the bedroom."

"Alright, I like the sound of this."

His smirk had grown and I swatted the back of his head as I slid my arms off of his shoulders.

"Don't be such a perv!"

He laughed and stood up from his chair as I shook my head and he pulled me in for a quick kiss before we headed downstairs and went our separate ways.

-

If there was one thing I knew how to do, it was run the perfect bath for relaxation. It had been my tradition every evening after I'd dropped Gray off at Chris' house - I would pour myself a glass of wine and take a bath, enjoying the opportunity for a long soak without the risk of Grayson interrupting. The bathtub in Chris' en suite made that indulgence even better due to it's size and depth and I'd taken advantage of it several times during our stay with Chris. Which meant that I had quite the assortment of bath salts and bubble bath to create the perfect bath for Chris.

The tub had just finished filling up when he walked in and I heard him chuckle at the sight.

"I'd be lying if I said I wasn't a little disappointed."

"Oh, shush," I teased, turning around to face him once I'd turned off the taps. "This will be much more effective than whatever you were imagining."

Chris scoffed at that claim, a smirk firmly on his face.

"I disagree."

"I'm sure you do, but that's too bad. Now, strip."

"Ooh, I like it when you're bossy."

His comment earned another roll of my eyes as I crossed my arms and waited for him to do as I'd instructed.

As he did, I couldn't help, but stare. He seemed to be toning up even more during our quarantine and the sight of his perfectly sculpted body took my breath away every time I had the luxury of seeing it. He caught my gaze and colour flooded my cheeks as I knew that he'd seen me gawking at him, but despite the smug look on his face, he made no comment as he climbed into the tub.

Once he was settled with his head resting back on the edge of the tub, I sat down on the closed lid of the toilet and picked my phone up from where it was sitting on the counter. I unlocked the screen with the intention of replying to my mother who had messaged me while I was getting the bath ready, but a giggle slipped from my lips when I saw what was already open on my phone from earlier that day. Chris raised a questioning eyebrow and I debated whether or not to tell him about it. It had the potential to send his stress levels sky rocketing again, but if he thought I was hiding something from him, it would probably irritate him and ruin his mood anyway so I came clean.

"Hannah sent me a link to an Instagram account today that posts lots of gossip stuff," I informed him. "Most of it seems to be just random submissions, but they've been right a few times, I guess, so people seem to believe whatever they say now."

"And why did she send you a link to it?"

"Because apparently you're engaged."

I was smiling as I broke the news to him because obviously I knew it wasn't true, but Chris let out a groan of annoyance.

"Engaged to who?! To you?"

"No, to a mysterious blonde. Apparently, the person who sent in the message has a friend who spotted you picking up some takeout with this woman. Her ring was clearly on display and you were openly affectionate with her while you waited for your food."

"That's just a straight up lie," Chris huffed. "I don't know why people waste their time making this shit up and I really don't know why you bother reading it."

"It's not like I seek it out, but Hannah finds it entertaining to see what people are saying about us," I shrugged. "You have to admit that it's kinda funny. It sends everyone into such a frenzy."

Chris shot me a look.

"Funny isn't the word I'd use."

"C'mon, it's a little amusing!" I smiled, scrolling down to the comments. "Like, look, they're discussing whether or not I fit the description in case I just dyed my hair blonde. But then someone else says they saw me in L.A. two weeks ago, around the time you were with the blonde woman, so it couldn't possibly be me. They're like little detectives."

Chris rolled his eyes, but there was a reluctant smile on his face.

"Detectives aren't allowed to just make things up," he pointed out. "Unless you took a secret trip a few weeks ago that I didn't know about."

"No, I didn't," I laughed. "You have some very creative fans."

"I don't think it's my fans who write that stuff. It's probably other people trying to antagonize them."

"Well, it works like a charm. They go nuts trying to decide if it's true. I just wish they wouldn't get so mean about it sometimes," I admitted. "Like, some of them were saying how glad they were that you'd moved on from me finally because of how cruel it is that I ruined your life by trapping you with a baby."

The scowl on Chris' face instantly returned with that additional information and I scolded myself for saying it.

"I should have let Downey sue them all like he wanted to when it first leaked that you were pregnant," Chris huffed. "Then maybe by now these gossip pages would know better than to post shit about us."

"It would have just made things worse," I insisted as a smirk slid onto my face. "Besides, it doesn't really bother me. I'm the one sitting next to you while you lounge completely naked in a bubble bath while they spiral into a jealous pit of despair."

That comment earned me a laugh before he sat up a bit higher in the tub.

"Why are you sitting over there anyway?" He asked. "Get in here with me."

I smiled at his demand, but shook my head.

"This isn't supposed to be a sexy bath. You're supposed to be relaxing."

"And what better way to relax than to share a bath with the woman I love?"

A statement like that was hard to resist, especially as he grinned up at me from the tub with that amazing smile of his. I relented with surprisingly little resistance and rose from where I was sitting.

"I suppose that's fair..."

Putting my phone back on the counter, I turned so my back was to Chris. I could feel his eyes burning into me as he stared and I bit back a smirk. I quickly undid the button on the shorts I was wearing and slid them down my legs, bending at the waist as I stepped out of them. A noise of approval came from behind me as I stood up again and I shot him what I hoped was a sexy look over my shoulder before I pulled my shirt over my head. After slipping out of my bra and quickly pulling off my panties, I left them with my shorts and turned around with one hand over my chest to keep it covered until I was settled in the tub under all the bubbles.

"Wow," Chris grinned. "You're so fuckin' hot."

I giggled at his compliment, feeling a wave of self-confidence from my little strip tease.

For the past few weeks I'd been spending more time in Chris' home gym and I was feeling the positive side effects - more than just in my slowly developing muscle tone. We'd had a fight one night not long after our first pool day when I made some self-deprecating comments that rubbed Chris the wrong way. He scolded me rather harshly for always talking badly about my body and, while at first his exasperated reaction made me shut down, it eventually led to a very open conversation.

I explained that I wasn't just fishing for compliments all the time. I had some serious insecurities and - as analyzed by Hannah who was a very well trained psychologist - I tended to put myself down first before someone else could do it. I informed him that it wasn't just the body changes that come from pregnancy that bothered me, but the fact that I hadn't had much time to go to the gym since Gray was born - when he was with me, I was busy with him and when he was with Chris, I was busy with work.

He understood where I was coming from and reminded me that his home gym was available for my use any time I wanted, but insisted that I make sure I was doing it for the right reasons. He didn't want me killing myself to change how I looked when I didn't really need to, but I assured him that my motivations weren't all vanity related. Sure, I wanted to look good, but I missed feeling strong and healthy.

After our conversation, I’d started taking some time every day to get some exercise and the difference it was making to my confidence even after a few short weeks was huge. So, hearing Chris' praise now made me feel wonderful because I was actually starting to believe it.

"Thanks," I smiled in response to his compliment as I got settled in the bath tub. We were facing each other, my legs draped over his thighs so my feet were resting by his hips and my bum was between his shins. He grabbed my hand and laced our fingers together as he watched me with what could only be described as an adoring look. "It's amazing what a few weeks at the gym can do."

"Helps that you were pretty hot to start with too," he teased. "But I'm glad you're feeling more confident."

"Me too." I leaned forward to press a soft kiss on his lips. "So, are you feeling more relaxed?"

"I am," Chris nodded before letting out a sigh. "I'm sorry I've been so stressed out lately. I just want this whole thing to go well."

"And it is," I repeated my earlier assurance. "So far you've had a great reaction."

"For now," he frowned. "I just want people to actually use it and get involved."

"They will," I assured him, leaning in for another kiss. "Have I told you how proud I am of you? You're doing such a great thing, using your influence to try and make a difference. It's very inspiring."

"Well, I think you're too kind," he told me, trying to be humble despite the proud grin on his face. "Really, it's the least I can do."

"Nope, the least you could do is nothing," I pointed out. "But you're trying to help people and I'm so proud of you for that. I'm grateful that Grayson has a dad like you to look up to."

It appeared - for a brief moment - that Chris' eyes grew a little bit glassy, but he blinked a few times and they were clear once again.

"Thanks, Winnie." He paused to clear his throat. "That really means a lot and I'm sorry I've been so busy this week. I have one more podcast interview to do tomorrow morning and then I have a few days off."

"I'm glad you'll get a break, but you don't need to be sorry," I assured him. "Even though it has been kinda weird. It's crazy that a few months ago, we only ever saw each other in passing, but now I miss you when you're busy for even a few hours."

It was true. I had missed him the last few days and it did seem ridiculous when we used to go weeks without seeing each other and even then it was just briefly at a pick up or drop off. I'd been spoiled the last few months, having so much of his time. Now, seeing him every day wasn't even enough if I didn't have much of his undivided attention.

A brief flash of dread tore through me as I shared that thought with Chris because I knew this would all come to an end some day. We couldn't stay locked away in his house forever, eventually we would both have to go back to work and I knew it would make things harder. Some people found that the intense quality time was testing their relationship, but I was worried that we'd start to crumble as soon as we weren't together almost twenty-four hours a day. Once the world of Hollywood got it's claws back in Chris, I couldn't help but wonder where that would leave me.

But as always when those thoughts filled my mind, I did my best to push them away. It was likely still months before anything would change so there was no point in stressing about it now and Chris chuckled, bringing me back to the moment.

"Awe, you’ve missed me?"

His words were accompanied by a cocky smirk and I smiled despite my rolling eyes.

"Shut up."

"It's sweet. I never thought you'd be a clingy kinda girlfriend."

I wrinkled my nose in displeasure at that thought and shook my head.

"I'm not clingy!"

"Kinda sounds like you are," he pointed out. "Can't even get through a work day without pining for me."

"I wasn't pining!" I huffed, but he continued insisting that it seemed like I was. "Well, I was just about to suggest we get out of this bath, but now I think maybe you don't deserve what I was thinking of doing next."

"Get out? You just got in," Chris pointed out with a raised eyebrow. "What else have you got planned?"

Now it was my turn to smirk as I rested my hands on the side of the tub before pushing up until I was standing in front of him.

"A little extra relaxation," I told him, deliberately keeping it vague. "But I guess now, you'll never know."

I stepped out of the tub and grabbed my towel. With one last glance back at Chris who was still sitting in the bath, looking a mix of surprised and intrigued, I wrapped the towel around myself and left the bathroom - making sure to sway my hips a little more than usual on my way out.

I heard the water slosh as Chris leapt up to follow me and he appeared in the bedroom - towel around his waist and water dripping to the floor - moments later.

"Chris!" I laughed. "You're getting the floor all wet!"

"So are you," he pointed out. "But I don't care."

I hardly had time to take in his words before he strode swiftly across the room and pulled me against his chest. His hands gripped my hips so tightly that it undid my towel and he moved just briefly enough for it to fall to the floor. Once that was out of the way, he captured my lips in a kiss so fierce it made my breath catch in my chest.

I indulged for a moment, enjoying the feel of his hands roaming by body as his lips worked against mine, but then I remembered who this evening was supposed to be about. I pulled back slightly, just enough to trail my lips across his jaw and locked them onto a spot just below his ear as my hands moved to the towel around his waist. I could feel a slight bulge pressing against me - he wasn't hard yet, but it was clear that the anticipation was having an effect on him - and I untucked the towel and let it fall down with mine to give me easier access.

I heard Chris take in a shaky breath and felt him tighten his grip on me as I took him in my hand. Smiling against his skin and enjoying his little reactions, I stroked him until he was thick and full from my touch.

"Get on the bed."

Chris' tone was demanding and there was definitely a part of me that wanted to follow his instructions, but I resisted and moved my face away from where it was buried in his neck, shaking my head.

"No, this is all about you," I reminded him. "You need to relax."

He voiced a few protests as I kissed my way down his chest, but he fell silent as I dropped to my knees in front of him. His hands were clenched in fists by his side while I continued to gently stroke him, placing soft kisses on the top of his thigh, but when my kisses moved closer until my lips landed on his cock, his hands shot to grip in my hair. He wasn't forcing anything or trying to control my movements, but the sense of control that action gave him was something I knew he enjoyed and I smiled before getting down to business.

I licked him slowly from base to tip, making him shudder as I took him into my mouth. His hips twitched, pushing farther in and I did my best to accommodate him. Letting him slide slowly over my tongue, I stretched my jaw to get my mouth around his thick shaft. He always felt big - he was big - but this action made it even more apparent and I took as much of him as I could before sliding back up his cock.

Pausing for a moment to suck at the tip, I used my hand to stroke him as I lifted my eyes to look up at his face. His hand gripped my hair tighter as he threw his head back briefly, then returned his gaze to me and met my eyes. I smiled around his cock before letting my lips move farther down, taking him back in my mouth. Not feeling completely confident in my ability to deep throat someone of his size, I used my hand to cover the base and began to bob my head with renewed enthusiasm, spurred on by all the sighs and groans that were falling from his lips.

I could feel myself growing wet. His reactions, the position we were in, the slight tug of my hair - it was all overwhelming me and increasing the temptation to let him fall from my mouth, push him onto the bed and ride him until we both couldn't take it anymore, but I tried to stay focused as I worked his cock.

After a few minutes, I could tell he was getting close as his grip on my head began leading me more and more, a sign his self control was waning. That only spurred me on, but as his breathing shifted until he was practically panting and I could feel his thigh muscles tensing where my hand was resting, I heard a sound that would kill any mood.

"Mama!"

Grayson's voice floated down the stairs. It was distant and quiet, but enough to make my blood run cold as I instantly pulled my mouth off Chris.

"Fuck," Chris groaned, a pained look on his face as I shot up from where I was kneeling. "Fuck, that kid has bad timing."

Gray called for me again, sounding slightly closer than he had before and I threw on one of Chris' shirts that was crumpled up on the bed. Luckily, it fit me like a dress and covered everything that needed to be covered.

"I'm so sorry, babe," I flashed him an apologetic look. "I'll take care of him and you can take care of that."

I gestured to his still very hard and throbbing cock and the poor man looked like he wanted to cry as I hurried out of the room.

Turns out, Grayson was just thirsty so after a quick drink of water, I tucked him back into bed. By the time I returned to our bedroom, Chris was fast asleep as he lay sprawled out, still naked on top of the duvet. It looked as if he had just collapsed onto the bed and even though he was asleep, his face still showed his exhaustion. I felt a flash of sympathy as I pulled the blanket off the back of the chair in the corner of the room and covered him up with it, placing a soft kiss on his forehead before climbing in to my side of the bed.

-

August

Tags:  @maggotzombie @moonlacebeam @mizzzpink @zaylaugh @flowery-mess @flowerjewels @njrronaldo7 @hockeychick10 @partypoison00 @theladybiers @sidepieces @firoozehmoon @patzammit @sparkledfirecracker @mytbel0st @chvntelle-99

[theres-an-impulstor-among-us]

If you have any idea, any existing ideas whatsoever that you want an excuse to write to continue the Tango glitch fic storyline, PLEASE -

(however if the horror of a forever uncertain fate is what you were aiming for in the first place I VIBE WITH THAT SO HARD feel no pressure to continue if the story is done)

thanks Shade for the idea! i saw your other ask and i like the general idea of it :)

(also as much as i like uncertain endings the anxiety in me needs arcs like this to have a proper ending. how happy that ending is is up to my creativity :3)

first part

second part

…

Tango steps through the doorway.

And vanishes.

Impulse lets out a choked sob and buries his face in his hands. Brody numbly puts his arm around his friend’s shoulder. Alone on the other side of the door, Etho slowly sinks to his knees.

Tango is gone. Forever.

“No!” Impulse wails into his hands. “Nooooo!”

Even Brody can’t hold the tears back.

All three of them blame themselves. Maybe if Impulse hadn’t killed him during the game… Maybe if Brody had done better with the doorway… Maybe if Etho had tried harder to dissuade him from going first…

...maybe Tango would still be here.

This doesn’t feel real. How can Tango, a friend they’ve had for years, more years than they can count, just be GONE? So quickly? So abruptly? So… So FINALLY? He was here just seconds ago, talking and moving, eyes full of life and emotion. And now…

Gone.

Etho stares through the doorway with hollow eyes. Not only is his close friend gone but now… now it’s proven that he’s stuck in here. Alone. Forever. He can’t follow Tango without meeting the same fate.

“What do we do now…?” asks Brody quietly.

It takes Etho a moment to realise that Brody is looking to him for guidance.

“I… I don’t… know…” Etho forces himself to breathe. “I-I guess I can’t come through the door. But I can’t stay here forever either. I guess it’s a case of picking death or a fate worse than death.”

His eyes flicker to Impulse, who is still crying into his hands. He has to blink back tears of his own as his heart aches, not just for his lost friend but for Impulse, who has lost his BEST friend. Can he in good conscience force his own death on Impulse as well? To lose one close friend in one day is bad, but two could break him.

But is a fate worse than death really preferable?

“Impulse,” Etho says softly. “Look at me.”

After a moment, Impulse raises his head and looks at him with red, puffy eyes. “Please don’t leave me,” he croaks. “I can’t… I can’t lose you too.”

Etho reaches out with his hand, palm towards Impulse, almost but not quite touching the doorway. Impulse mimics the movement with his own hand. It’s almost like they’re simply on either side of a window: able to see each other but not to touch.

Fresh tears spring to Impulse’s eyes.

They both know this is goodbye, one way or another.

“Am I closing the doorway, Etho?” Brody asks quietly.

He’s asking Etho what he wants to do.

“Yes."

“Are you sure? You know that once it’s closed, I might never be able to open it again?”

“Yes,” Etho says again. “I know it’ll be hard, but I-.”

“WAIT! STOP!”

Impulse jerks sharply and spins around at the familiar yell.

There’s no way it’s him, there’s no way he’s here, there’s no way it’s him, there’s no way he’s alive, there’s no way-

“Tango!” Brody gasps.

In the doorway to the lobby stands Tango, with someone Brody has never met before behind him: Xisumavoid.

Mouth open and tears still dripping uncontrollably from his eyes, Impulse scrambles to his feet and tackles Tango in a tight hug, unable to believe Tango is here.

“You’re okay…!” he cries. “I can’t believe you’re okay…!”

“I’m sorry,” Tango whispers back. “I’m so sorry for doing that to you. But I’m okay.”

“H-How…?”

“Later,” says Xisuma firmly, approaching the door. “Etho, come through the door.”

Etho’s eyes widen. “What?!”

“Trust me, it’s safe. It’ll take you back to Hermitcraft.”

“A-Are you sure?”

“That’s what happened to me,” says Tango, still hugging Impulse. “It sent me straight back to my last respawn point on Hermitcraft. I don’t know how and I don’t know why. But it should do the same to you.”

It’s the ultimate trust test. Does Etho trust the word of his friends?

Yes, he decides. He does.

Seeing the look in Etho’s eyes change, Xisuma nods. “See you back on Hermitcraft.”

Etho nods back and, after taking a deep breath, steps through the doorway.

He vanishes, just like Tango did.

“Everyone back to Hermitcraft,” Xisuma orders.

Tango releases Impulse and is immediately enveloped in a hug from Brody. “Don’t you dare make me grieve for you ever again, you asshole,” he mutters.

“Wasn’t my intention, trust me.” Tango can feel Brody trembling slightly. “But I won’t.”

After saying goodbye to Brody, the three Hermits head back to their server. Impulse’s head is spinning and his legs feel weak. He may faint at any moment.

“Are you okay?” Tango asks him. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to worry you. I never imagined I’d be sent straight back here. I thought I was either gonna just walk straight through or immediately get my face obliterated. I-.”

He breaks off as Impulse again pulls him into a hug. “Impy? Buddy?”

“I never wanna lose you again,” Impulse whispers. “Ever.”

Tango wordlessly hugs him back.

After a few minutes of the two just holding each other and recovering from the fact that they were almost separated forever, someone else joins the hug, wrapping their arms around both of them.

“Etho!” Tango beams and pulls him in. “You got back! Are you okay?”

Etho nods. “I’m okay, I’m okay. A little mentally scarred, but I’ll live.”

“Me too.”

“I’m so glad you guys are okay,” Impulse breathes. “For a horrible, horrible moment back there, I thought I’d lost both of you forever. That was so, so scary. Why did the doorway do that?”

“The game likely freaked out at having a dead player try to cross into the lobby without going through the normal resurrection protocols,” Etho responds, “and ejected us completely back to our normal world.”

“Thank god it did,” says Tango, shivering.

Impulse nods and holds his friends tighter to him, almost afraid that they would be ripped away from him at any moment.

“Yeah, thank god.”

…

“-then Etho turned up and everything was okay,” Tango finishes. “Well, KINDA okay.”

“What do you mean?” asks Zedaph, munching on the cookie Tango gave him.

“We’re physically fine, but I’m pretty sure at the very least, Impulse and I are scarred for life. I don’t even wanna think about what that might’ve done to Brody and Etho too. It’s got to the point where every time I even think about Among Us, I get a chill down my spine.”

Zedaph gives him a sympathetic look. “I’m sorry. That sounds horrible.”

“Don’t get me wrong, I still LOVE the game. It’s a lot of fun. I just… I don’t know if I can go back there after what happened. I don’t know if I can trust it anymore.”

After a moment, Zedaph says, “What if I went with you?”

Tango glances at him in surprise. “Really? I thought you said you never wanted to play.”

“I said I had no interest in playing but that was a while ago. Honestly, I’ve kinda wanted to play with you guys for a while and this is just the excuse I need.” Zedaph squeezes his best friend’s hand. “I know how much you love that game, Tango. If I can do anything to help you feel comfortable with it again, I’ll do it.”

“Oh, Zed…” Tango smiles gratefully and hugs his best friend. “Thank you.”

“No problem.”

Zedaph continues to hold his best friend, his mind already on the game he’s avoided playing for so long.

He likes glitches. They make life fun. Unpredictable. But not this time, not for his best friends. There may be some more glitches when Zedaph joins the Among Us crew, but he’ll do whatever it takes to make sure these glitches are only for fun.

He won’t let the game hurt Tango or Impulse ever again.

[ailuronymy]

do you think every disabled character in wc is handled poorly? i understand theres def some cases of ableism but at the same time when i hear ppl say that its usually bc the disabled cat wasnt able to become a warrior due to their disability. and i feel like ppl forget, that not everyone irl CAN do what they want after they become disabled. ex. someone wants to be an athlete, but their legs have to be amputated. a cat like briarlight esp i feel is p realistic and could be a source of comfort

Hello there, thank you for writing in. I’m going to reply to this question with a series of questions I think are a bit more useful, given what you’re trying to ask me. I hope that’ll clarify what is a deeply complex, multilayered issue. 

Do I think Erin Hunter handles anything in the series “well”? Not really. I don’t have a high opinion of the work of the collective and, broadly speaking, I think every right note they play, metaphorically speaking, is an instance of chance rather than effort, skill, or intention. Stopped clocks are right twice a day, mediocre writers will sometimes do something cool by accident, similar principle. That’s not to say Erin Hunter hasn’t ever done anything on purpose--just that overall the underlying drive of the series isn’t so much quality as it is quantity, and speed of production, and it shows. 

Do I think Erin Hunter puts any significant research into how they portray disability? No. I do not think it is a priority for this series. They’re not trying to make a meaningful work of literature, or capture a realistic experience of disability, or tell especially impactful or thoughtful stories, or even make a particularly good or coherent fantasy world. Warriors is a specifically commercial product that was commissioned by HarperCollins to appeal to a particular demographic of drama-loving, cat-loving kids. It’s not really trying to do anything but sell books, because it’s a business, so the text in many ways reflects that. They’re not going for disability representation, in my opinion. They’re including disability in many cases as a plot-point or an obstacle. 

Do I think this means that people can’t connect to these characters and narratives in meaningful ways? No. Often I say that a work is completed only when it is read. Before that point, it doesn’t have a meaning: a reader finishes the work through the act of reading, and interpretation, and filling in the spaces and resonance of the story with their own values and experiences. When people talk about subjectivity, this is what they are talking about. What this means in the context of disabled characters in Warriors is that these characters and their stories can be multiple, conflicting, even mutually exclusive things at the same time, to different people, for different reasons. 

Do I think characters have to be “good” to be significant to someone? No. I think genuinely “bad” (i.e., not researched or poorly researched, cliche, thoughtlessly written, problematic, etc. etc.) characters can be deeply meaningful, and often are. Ditto above: for many people, and especially marginalised or stigmatised people, reading is almost always an act of translation, wherein the person is reading against the creative work of the dominant culture in a way that the author likely didn’t intend or didn’t even imagine. There’s a long documented history of this in queer culture, but it’s true for just about everyone who is rarely (or unfairly) represented in media. Disabled people often have to read deeply imperfect works of fiction featuring disability and reinterpret them in the process--whether to relate to a kind of disability they don’t experience themselves but which is the closest they’re offered to something familiar, or to turn positive and meaningful what is intended as narrative punishment, or simply to create what’s commonly called headcanon about “non-disabled” characters who echo their personal experiences. 

Do I think everyone has to agree? Extremely no. As I said before, people will actually always disagree, because all people have different needs and different experiences. What can be interpreted as empowering to one person might be very othering and painful for another. There is no “right” answer, because, again, that is how subjectivity works. This is especially true because marginalised communities are often many different kinds of people with different lives and needs brought together over a trait or traits they share due to the need for solidarity as protection and power--but only in a broad sense. It’s why there is often intracommunity fighting over representation: there isn’t enough, there’s only scraps, and so each person’s personal interpretation can feel threatening to people whose needs are different. You can see examples of this especially when it comes to arguments over character sexuality: a queer female character might be interpreted as bisexual by bisexual people who relate to her and want her to be, while being interpreted as lesbian by lesbians who also relate to her and want her to be like them. Who is correct? Often these different interpretations based on different needs are presented as if one interpretation is theft from the other, when in fact the situation is indicative of the huge dearth of options for queer people. It becomes increasingly more intense when it comes to “canon” representations, because of the long history of having to read against the grain I mentioned above: there’s novelty and, for some people, validation in “canon” certainty. And again, all of this is also true for disabled people and other stigmatised groups. 

Do I think this is a problem? Not exactly. It is what it is. It is the expected effect of the circumstances. Enforced scarcity creates both the need for community organising and solidarity and the oppressive pressure to prioritise one’s self first and leave everyone else in the dust (or else it might happen to you). The system will always pit suppressed people against each other constantly, because it actively benefits from intracommunity fighting. Who needs enemies when you have friends like these, and so on. A solution is absolutely for everyone in community to hold space for these different needs and values, and to uplift and support despite these differences, but it’s not anyone’s fault for feeling threatened or upset when you don’t have much and feel like the thing that you do have is being taken away. It’s a normal, if not really helpful, human response. But until people learn and internalised that the media is multifaceted and able to be many things at once, without any of those things being untrue or impacting your truth of the text, then there will be fighting. 

Do I think my opinion on disability on Warriors is all that important? No, not really. I can relate to some characters in some moment through that translation, but my opinion on, say, Jayfeather is nowhere near as worthy of consideration than that of someone who is blind. I don’t have that experience and it’s not something I can bring meaningful thinking about, really. That’s true for all these characters. If you want to learn about disability, prioritise reading work about disabled rights and activism that is done by disabled people, and literary criticism from disabled people. And as I mentioned above, remember that community isn’t a monolith: it’s a survival tactic, that brings together many different people with disparate experiences of the world. So research widely. 

Finally--do I think there’s only one kind of disabled narrative worth telling? No. For some people, a disabled character achieving a specific, ability-focused dream is a good story. For other people, a story that acknowledges and deals with the realities, and limitations, of disability is a good story. The same person might want both of those stories at different times, depending on their mood. That’s okay. Sometimes there’s power and delight in a fantasy of overcoming seemingly impossible obstacles and defying all expectations. Sometimes there’s value and catharsis in a narrative that delves into the challenges and grief and oppression experienced because of disability. There’s no one truth. 

To round all this off, I’m going to give my favourite example of this, which is Cinderella. I think it’s a great and useful tool, since for many it’s familiar and it’s very simple. Not much happens. In the story, she is bullied and tormented, until a fairy godmother gifts her over several nights with the opportunity to go to a royal ball, where she dances with a prince. The prince eventually is able to find Cinderella, due to a shoe left behind, and they are married. In some versions, the family that mistreated her are killed. In others, they’re forgiven. 

Some people hate the story of Cinderella, because she is seen as passive. She tolerates the bullying and never fights back. She does every chore she’s told. She is given an opportunity by a fairy godmother, and she doesn’t help herself go to the ball. She runs from the prince and he does the work to find her again. Eventually, she’s married and the prince, presumably, keeps her in happiness and comfort for the rest of her life. 

For some, this story is infuriating, because Cinderella doesn’t “save herself”: she is largely saved by external forces. She is seen as a quintessential damsel-in-distress, and especially for people who have been bullied, infantalised, or made to feel less capable or weak, that can be a real point of personal pain and discomfort. 

However, for some others, Cinderella is a figure of strength, because she is able to endure such hostile environments and terrible people and never gives up her gentle nature or her hope. She never becomes cruel, or bitter. She is brave in daring to go outside her tiny, trapped world, and she is brave to let the prince find her. She doesn’t have to fight or struggle to earn her reward of happiness and prove her worth, because she was always deserving of love and kindness. The prince recognises at once, narratively speaking, her goodness and virtue, and stops at nothing to deliver her a better life. 

Depending on the version, the wicked family disfigure themselves for their own greed--or are punished, which for some is a revenge fantasy; or Cinderella forgives them and once again shows her tenacious kindness, which for others is a different revenge fantasy. 

The point? Cinderella is the same character in the same story, but these are almost unrecognisable readings when you put them side-by-side. Which one is right? Which one is better? In my opinion, those are the wrong questions. I hope this (long, sorry) reply is a set of more useful ones. 

[darling-i-read-it]

Wash Up

Geralt of Rivia x reader

Word Count: 1.7k

Warnings: nakedness, wounds, men at bars, cuteness

Author’s Note: I just finished this show and i just am in love with this man thats that you know what i mean. I really liked this fic too so I hope you guys do as well! 

Summary: Geralt returns from a few days away from you 

Genre: fluff

Song: rivers and roads by the head and the heart 

I don’t own these characters. They belong to author/director 

(not my gif)

The town scuffled around you. It seemed that the world moved around at a high pace. Your world moved so quickly. As quick as the strangers around you, spilling and knocking over drinks while laughing with friends. Jaskier sat beside you at the corner of the bar. He had out his loot, mulling over the next song that he wanted to write. 

You had a pint of ale in your hands as you watched and waited.

“Is advantageous to pretentious?” Jaskier asked. You turned to him and raised an eyebrow, shrugging.

“I think that it works. How are you going to use it?” He showed you the piece of parchment where there were scribbled lyrics and notes. You looked it over and nodded idly. “Not too pretentious.” 

“Geralt will think it’s too pretentious,” he pointed out, hesitating to put down the word amongst the others. You shook your head and turned to him, away from the town gathered around you. 

“Don’t actually listen to anything Geralt says. He, himself, is too pretentious,” you promised. Jaskier shook his head.

“Easy for you to say. I don’t think he’s spoken an ill word of you ever.” You rolled your eyes and took a small drink of your ale. 

“We’ve had our fair share of fights.” 

“And they usually end with me not getting a good nights sleep. I wish you would warn me next time so that I could get a room far away from both of you,” he muttered. You chuckled lowly.

“Sounds like you need another drink to get those creative juices flowing, huh Jaskier?” You stood up and ruffled his hair. He swatted your hand away but he was smiling. You and Jaskier had grown close. You didn’t act like you hated him like Geralt tended to do. You were a nice balance between the two of them, such happiness matched by such bitterness. You had known Geralt much longer than Jaskier but he seemed to add some laughs to the relationship. 

You walked over to the bar and put down your empty cup. 

“Two more please.” 

“On me.” You turned over to the man who had just approached. It was not Geralt which surprised you. Geralt had been away for a couple of days. You had been itching for him to return. He left you to watch Jaskier which you thought was stupid. He liked to tag along and you were useful in a fight. Geralt was picky much too often.

“Thank you but I’ve got it,” you told the stranger. He shook his head. 

“Two for a girl like yourself?” he questioned. You shook your head.

“The second one if for my friend over there,” you said, pointing over to Jaskier. He was messing with the strings and singing quietly so that only he could hear.

“What kind of woman are you to be stuck with a bard like that?” You scoffed.

“I don’t think that’s any of your business sir,” you promised. The bartender gave you the two drinks and you gave him a nod goodbye. You got barely three steps away before he grabbed your arm, spilling the drink all over you. You let out a small gasp, looking down at the dress he had ruined. You were lucky you had left your armor in the room. 

The people closest to you turned to look., Jaskier looked up and stood when he saw you were in distress. He crumpled up his paper and put it in his pocket as he walked over. 

Geralt got there first.

You raised an eyebrow and your mouth opened in surprise as you saw him. He put himself between you and the man who had troubled you with his advances. He was covered in the guts of some monster, from head to toe. Jaskier got to you and you handed him the full cup. 

“For you,” you said, smiling. 

“You didn’t have to-”

“I wanted to.” Jaskier nodded, giving you a happy grin. Geralt however, was not done with the man.

“She told you it was none of your business and then you ruin her dress. I suppose you have the money to pay for it,” he said stiffly. The man realized who Geralt was and put his hands up in surrender.

“I didn’t realize she was a witcher's property,” he said. “My apologies.”

“I’m no one’s property. Now the money for my dress,” you said, pushing past Geralt. Geralt let you move past him. You stood your guard against the man. 

“I have no money to spare for a rag you may wear once.” You nodded, slowly, stiffly. You turned to Jaskier who was slowly sipping his drink.

“I’m sorry dear,” you said softly. He handed you the drink before you had to ask. You turned back around and sprayed it in the man's face. It dripped off his beard and onto his clothes that looked nothing more than the rags he spoke of. He reached for his dagger but Geralt stepped in front of you once more. 

“Call it even,” he said. The man looked at the sword draped across his back and how he was covered in the guts of a monster that was likely much harder to kill than the stranger would ever be. The man nodded, letting out a sigh. You turned to the bar and raised a finger.

“On the house,” the bartender said, shaking a bit at the sight of Geralt. You took it with a kind smile and handed it to Jaskier. 

“Voila,” you said with a smile. “The drink has returned.” He laughed and shook his head. Geralt grabbed your arm gently and you nodded. “Keep ‘advantageous’.” Jaskier nodded as you walked out of the bar. He had always been so fond of you. A kind soul that was locked in life with a witcher. It made for good songs.

You and Geralt walked out of the bar and then wordlessly up to the place that you were staying. You were drenched in ale and he was drenched in guts but you did not speak. You reached the room and he disappeared wordlessly into the small closet. You walked into the bathroom and started to draw a hot bath. It took a few minutes but Geralt returned to you, a change of clothes for the both of you. He put them down on the counter and walked over to where you sat, beside the bath, your fingers just barely touching the water as you tested its temperature. 

At the sight of you, peaceful, Geralt eased. It had been a hard monster to kill, harder than most. He had wondered if his travel home was going to be delayed or not but he made it just as night fell. You put your head against the side of the bath and he started to undress. 

You had seen each other naked countless times before. There was no sense of awkwardness anymore to it. He gestured for you to take his hand and you did so, standing up. He turned you around gently and slid the dress off of your shoulders. It fell very carefully onto the floor. He did his best not to touch your body with his guts covered hands. You took off the rest of your undergarments and by the time you were finished with that, Geralt was in the bath. 

You sat behind him, grabbing a sponge and ringing it out. You started to wash the guts off him slowly. He eased into your touch, relaxing. 

“What happened while I was gone?” he asked gruffly. You shrugged.

“Nothing eventful. I would have liked to go with you.”

“Well then who would have washed me up.” As the grime started to ease away you noticed a new scratch on his back. You brushed your finger over it lightly. 

“I would have avoided this growing scar,” you whispered. You kissed it gently, lips lingering on his skin. He took your hand off of his shoulder where it lay. He brought it to his lips and held it there, closing his eyes as he kissed your palm. 

The door to the room opened. Geralt's eyes opened quickly and he turned to see who was disrupting his peace. 

“Y/N?!” Jaskier yelled. You chuckled lowly and sank further into the water, ringing out the sponge. 

“Busy!” you yelled back. You heard his walking stop. 

“I thought I told you to warn me!” he pouted. You placed your head against Geralt's back and smiled lightly.

“Go away Jaskier!” Geralt yelled gruffly. You hit him gently.

“We’ll be out before you go to bed!” you called. He seemed to be okay with that.

“Fine! Be quieter!” he yelled and the door shut again.

“Why make promises you can’t keep?” Geralt asked you, voice back to a softer tone. You put down the sponge and he turned his head to the side to look at you.

“I’d rather he leave us thinking we will be back soon.” 

“You’re too nice to him.”

“Kindness is free you know.” You grabbed his hand and placed your head on his shoulder. You moved down and kissed his skin. “I missed you.”

“I missed you too.” 

He turned his head and kissed the side of your head.

“We aren’t going to be back before Jaskier goes to sleep are we.” 

“Not a chance.”

[joshstambourine]

A Girl Named Ivy

Warning: None! Unless you dislike fluff

Word Count: 2350

Synopsis: Just a cute lazy day with Jake and his little girl

Thank you so much for this request @anditsmywholeheart , I can’t even begin to explain how much joy it brought me to write. Hopefully you love it--- and that you don’t mind that I named her, I find it a lot easier to write when I have names. 

Taglist: @anditsmywholeheart @babydxll

Jake let out a weak sigh as he could feel small shifts of weight on the bed. The movements were slow, as if trying not to wake him up. It wasn't long before the shifting stopped and there was soft pattering leading away from the bed. Jake couldn't help but peak his eyes open to see what was happening. He could see a tiny figure standing at the window on the far side of the room. The small figure wore a set of blue floral pajamas, with soft brown hair falling over her shoulders, she was on her tippy toes trying to see outside.

"...Ivy... what are you doing?" Jake called in a groggy manner, which immediately caused the little girls head to turn and look at him.

"Mommies gone again…" she tells him lightly, "I wanted to see her before she left." Ivy admits in a sad tone. It was a rather normal thing for Ivy to check and see if (Y/N)'s car was there in the morning, she still hadn't managed to get herself up early enough despite all of her vows to do so.

Jake couldn't help but smile a little, "Come here sweetie." He tells her, lightly lifting his arm and moving the blanket a touch. Ivy was rather quick to scramble her way back to the side of the bed and climb back up so she could cuddle into Jake's chest.

Jake wraps his arm around her tiny figure giving her a small kiss on the top of her head, "Mommy will be back before you know it. She always is." He whispers against her hair, his hand rubbing her back in a loving way.

"But why does she have to go? You don't have to go away everyday." Ivy points out, wiping her little nose with the back of her hand.

Jake smiles a little, "Well, we have to make money so we can pay for all your toys and clothes." He tells her beginning to twirl her hair around his finger. It always surprised Jake just how much Ivy looked like him; she had his soft brown hair that always sat so sweetly on her shoulders, her eyes… they were the same color as (Y/N)'s but their shape was just like his when he was small.

"Well… I don't need any more toys." Ivy tells him, "Do you think if I tell Mommy that,  she'd stay home with me?"

Jake softly laughs pushing her hair away from her face and looking into her eyes. "Maybe… but y'know we can have lots of fun without Mommy here sweetheart." 

Ivy pouts a little, "You always say that…" She utters; she may have all of Jake's features but that pout was pure (Y/N). 

"Annnnd? Don't we have fun?" He asks her. To which Ivy shakes her head. "No?! What do you mean no?!" Jake quickly responds, a small frown appearing on his lips. "Daddy isn't fun?" She again shook her head. "What?!" Jake quickly says again, hands moving to her sides, "Daddy isn't fun?!" He quickly asks, beginning to tickle Ivy’s sides.

She just as swiftly begins to giggle and try to push his hands away, "S-Stop--!" She giggles, Jake complies and instead pulls her into a tight hug for a moment.

"I think you just don't want to admit that Daddy is more fun than Mommy. It's okay you can tell me…!" Jake whispers by her ear, "I won't tell Mommy." He continues.

Ivy seems to think over this idea for a moment or two before lifting her little hand, "Pinky promise?" She whispers back as if (Y/N) was in the room now.

"Pinky promise." Jake tells her, locking one of his calloused pinkies with hers. They were so small, Jake couldn't help but stare at her tiny hand for a moment. Four years had gone by so fast, it felt like he closed his eyes and when he opened them again Ivy had sprouted up and was preparing to go to kindergarten.

Jake could still remember the first time he got to hold her in his arms… it felt...as if everything in his life had purposefully led up to that exact moment. Jake had tried his best to not let on how big of a deal this was to him to other people; of course, (Y/N) knew. 

Just like the moment (Y/N) had told him that she was pregnant… his tough guy façade crumbled, and he became a crying mess. They were happy tears of course… just overwhelmingly happy ones. Jake held the small bundle close to him, "I'm your dad…!" He lightly whispered, to her--- and more importantly to himself. “...I’m your dad.”

Jake immediately bit his lip a little having recalled that very special moment in his life. He refused to cry as he looked down at his little girl who was growing up faster than he ever could have imagined.

"Daddy?" She lightly called him.

"Yes Ivy?" He responds softly, her hands cupping his cheeks.

"You look sad!" She tells him honestly, seeming to have noticed the change in how he looked at her. Jake could never quite grasp just how good kids were at picking up on people's emotions.

Jake shook his head giving her little palms a kiss, "No! I'm not sad, just thinking~" He tells her with a tender smile. "I was thinking about a fun thing we could do today… to surprise Mommy?" He lightly suggests.

"To surprise Mommy?!" Ivy soon beamed, her little cheeks were so cute when she smiled.

Jake nodded, "To surprise Mommy." He hums as she moves to kiss her nose. "What do you think of making cupcakes?"

"Chocolate cupcakes?!" Ivy quickly suggests,

"Is there any other kind?" Jake smiles at her, Ivy quickly sits up and starts to dance a little.

"Come on Daddy!! Let's go make them!" She urges, taking his hand and trying to pull him to sit up. She was clearly excited, pushing her hair out of her face.

Jake chuckles a little as he sits up, "First." He starts, "We have to get you dressed for the day okay?" He tells her.

She was already crawling her way towards the door, "Can I pick my clothes?!" Ivy eagerly asks, next to vibrating with the new found excitement for the day.

"Sure, honey." Jake smiles lightly watching as she happily hops off the side of the bed and begins running down the hall. "No white clothes Ivy. You hear me?!" He yells.

"Okay!" She yells back.

Jake now stood in the bathroom, brushing back Ivy's hair. She was now dressed in a light purple summer dress that ruffled down to a flowy bottom at her knees. On her feet were mismatched socks, one covered in orange flowers, the other ladybugs. And of course as a crowning glory she wore a long pink beaded necklace. "How do you want your hair this morning?" He lightly asks her, looking at her in the mirror.

She taps her chin, "Two buns?" Ivy suggests.

"Two buns eh?" Jake utters, "Not just one big bun?" He asks her, he wasn’t surprised by the choice. Ivy seemed to like her hair in two buns or a fancy braid normally; that being said (Y/N) normally did her hair because she was much better at it. Jake began to divide her hair so he could pull the two sections up the way she wanted.

"Are you going to have a big bun Daddy?" She asks, her gaze showing she was looking up at him in the bathroom mirror.

"Well I was thinking about it."

"Can I do it for you??" Ivy quickly asks him, watching as he tied the one side into a messy but sweet bun. It was different from how (Y/N) did her buns but Ivy knew her dad was trying his best.

"It'd be faster for me to do it, honey..." Jake tells her. Ivy did his hair very often and Jake really did love letting her play with it, but he assumed she would want to get straight to baking today.

Ivy bit at her cheek for a second watching him start on her second bun. "I want to do it for you." She reaffirms, "When you do buns they're so messy… I want Daddy to look pretty today." Ivy tells him pointedly.

Jake looks down at her pretending to be offended by that statement. "Hey! I thought I was pretty good at it…!”

Ivy seemed to make a slightly disgusted face as she shook her head, making Jake smile even wider. “Well how would you do it then?” He asks her, handing her the hair brush now that he had finished up her buns. 

Ivy spun around on the stool and pulled him down by his arm, “Turn around!” She tells him, Jake gives her a peck on the cheek before sitting down with his back facing her. Her hands were quickly in his hair, yanking the brush mercilessly through any knots Jake had in his hair. He wouldn’t say anything, not wanting to kill her little creative spark. He just bit his lip and allowed her to tug and pull until finally she seemed happy with the little bun she had made on the top of his head. “Where is the thing Daddy?” Ivy asks him, clearly looking for an elastic or scrunchie.

“On the counter baby.” He replies, suddenly getting a sharp pull on his head. She was reaching for one of her floral scrunchies to put in his hair. Once she found one it took her a few minutes to get it in his hair.

“There!” She hums giving him a small smack on his shoulders.

Jake looked up at her, before getting up and turning to look in the mirror, “Oh wait!” Ivy stopped him pulling him down by his hand once more before opening a drawer and pulling out a white headband of (Y/N)’s and quickly pushing it down on Jake’s head. “There! Now you’re beautiful.” She hums.

Jake finally looked at himself in the mirror, curious to see just how messy his hair was. Ivy had actually done a bang up job for the most part, aside from a few little pieces poking up. “I love it.” He smiles, leaning down to give her little kisses on her cheek, “Thank you Ivy.”

Ivy grinned proudly at her handy work.

After a few more stops during their morning routine, Jake and Ivy were now in the kitchen. Ivy knew the drill: she had to get her stool, she also had to find her apron, and most importantly she had to put some music on for the two of them. Ivy began to dig through the records trying to find her favorite album he had buried away. Finally she pulled free an album and handed it to Jake carefully, knowing very well how delicate records were. “The space ship one!” She cheers, having picked out Boston’s album.

The sight of it made him smile, he knew she only liked it because it had a space ship on it but it still made him happy that she wanted to listen to something like that. “You know what to do.” He lightly tells her, not moving to help her just watching carefully as she placed the record on the turntable and very carefully moved the needle over it, 

“Right there?” She asks him, wanting to make sure she would drop it in the right spot. Jake leaned a little closer and soon nodded,

“Right there. Remember to put it down slowly.” He says. Ivy did so with ease, having done this many many times, within seconds music began to fill the house. “Good job!” Jake hums offering his hand for a high five, Ivy happily hit it and began to the kitchen excitedly.

The rest of the afternoon was full of fun as Ivy worked with Jake to bake some beautiful surprise cupcakes for (Y/N). They were covered in batter and icing by the time they were done, sprinkles all over the counter from all of the decorating they had done. As it drew closer to the evening Ivy had cuddled herself up on the couch and fallen asleep watching a movie, she couldn’t wait for (Y/N) to get home so she could give her the prettiest cupcake she had made.

The front door of the house soon creaked open, keys jingling as (Y/N) called out. “I’m home!” 

“In the kitchen.” Jake responded softly, not really wanting to wake Ivy up yet. 

(Y/N) stepped into the kitchen to find Jake cleaning everything up as well as a plate full of cupcakes on the counter. It immediately brought a smile to (Y/N)’s lips, “You guys clearly had a fun day.”

Jake smiled back at her, “Those are supposed to be a surprise, so you better act surprised when she shows you them.” He points out, as he continued to scrub out one of the bowls.

(Y/N) came up behind Jake to hug him from behind and place a small kiss on his neck, “I will~” She smiles resting her head on his shoulder, “It was a fun day though?”

Jake nodded, turning a little to place a soft kiss on (Y/N)’s lips, “Y’know what?” He whispers,

“What?” (Y/N) asks.

“She says that I’m funner than you.” He grins being very proud of this.

“What?!” (Y/N) laughs, Jake just kept nodding, not saying anything else. “Well we’ve gotta change that.” She continues pulling back from him and beginning towards the hallway, “Is she in the living room?”

“Yeah she’s sleeping.” Jake hums, 

(Y/N) nodded as she started her way down it, “Ivy! Mommies home!” 

Jake could hear her call as he turned back to the dishes, his smile wouldn’t dampen. He still couldn’t believe just how lucky he was… to have this beautiful little family. More importantly, how lucky he was to have his sweet little girl named Ivy.