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#a study in kissing evolution
sisitrip · 1 year
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semponant · 2 months
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Do you ever just wake up and casually spend 5 hours of your day studying human evolution, the human mind, prehistoric life, and pre-life on planet Earth, which made you cry in the corner out of joy at how there is no point in life whatsoever and it all happened by accident yet it sounds so beautiful to you, and then you nap for 2 hours and forget about all that? No? Aw man.
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*fistbumps* BIOLOGY I KNEW YOU'D SAVE ME
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nkogneatho · 4 months
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— 𝐒𝐀𝐕𝐄 𝐀 𝐂𝐎𝐖, 𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐊 𝐀 𝐌𝐀𝐍
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—characters: gojo, toji, geto, sukuna, nanami, choso
—cw: lactation ofc, fem!reader, nicknames, aphrodisiac (the milk), intoxication, masturbation, semi-public, dry humping.
—a/n: i have officially surprised myself with how insane i can really be. ya gurl so thirsty she created her own universe where men gib milkies 🧍🏽‍♀️
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introduction to the universe:
Evolution took place a little differently in this universe. A mutation caused hormonal presence that triggers monthly lactation in men for 3 to 5 days, and it usually starts in their early 20s. It is studied that it does not serve any purpose of feeding like female lactation, but might be an indicator to arousal, and even a mating call due to accurate findings of natural aphrodisiacs in the milk produced by the thin gland located in a breast. It also pains a lot and causes swelling of nipples. While scientific advancements have yet to develop a pill that might solve this problem, the most effective natural method to be proven is letting another person suck it.
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𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔
It had been quite a long day at work. You knew you were the last to arrive home when you found his boots messed on the floor.
“Toru?” You called out his name, failed to receive a response. “Toru, baby, ' m home.” The wooden door of the shoe cabinet creaked as you closed it after placing the footwear in their place.
The house smelled…sweeter, felt warmer than usual. Making your way to the bedroom, you found clothes scattered on the floor near the entrance. The door was ajar which means your eyes had quick access to what was happening.
“Fuck! Ah! Ah! Mhmm.” You watched in surprise as your boyfriend kept fisting his cock, but wait. Something was different. You moved closer and found his hands squeezing his tits, milk oozing and drenching his naked body. But his heat doesn't arrive until next week. You thought. It was not uncommon for heats to arrive irregularly. It only meant that his hormone level had increased due to sexual frustration. Your eyes scanned his position, his movements. A hand reaching down to rub the wetness forming between your legs. You couldn't take it anymore.
“Need a hand?” You asked, announcing yourself in the room to let the man know he wasn't alone.
“Oh fuck! I thought I locked the door,” he panicked, yet he didn't remove his from his cock, just another arm covering his chest.
“And deprive me of this treat? I don't think so, baby.” You walked closer until you were hovering over him, kissing softly. Heat always has Satoru acting needy and you knew it.
“Touch me, doll. Please.” You smiled at his eagerness.
“I will do more than just touch.” Slapping his wrist away that were blocking the view of his lovely tits, you pushed him until he was laying flat. Your clothed pussy grinding in his naked cock as you leaned and took one of his nipples in your mouth.
“F-fuck.” he stuttered. “Don't. I am early this month. The flow is too much—ngh—you'll get high.” As if that was going to stop you? You started sucking more aggressively. He was right. The flow really was too much because you found yourself gulping a mouthful of his sweet milk, as your other hand reached down jerked his cock.
“Baby…ah! Keep doing that. I am close.” He is so silly to think he can relieve himself on his own when it never works. “Holy fhhuuck! Gonna c—aahhh!” You watched as he arched his back, white spurts covering your hands and other white liquid wetting your jaw. You sat up, removing your top as you already felt dizzy.
“We're not done, Toru. Wan'you to fuck me nasty while I suck your milk.” And he was hard again at your words.
𝐅𝐔𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐎 𝐓𝐎𝐉𝐈
You loved spring. It was your favorite season to go out. Not too cold. Not too hot. Just the perfect amount of wind and sun. Apparently, it is also a perfect season for outdoor dates. You and Toji preferred to stay in most of the time but the cherry blossoms were too precious to be enjoyed from your windows or TV screen.
“Toji, you ready?” you asked your husband, packing things in your cute pink purse.
“Uhm, princess? Think we might need to cancel the date.” His muffled voice emerged through the bedroom.
“What?” You yelled as you stomped to the bedroom. “What do you mean we might need to c—oh…" Your legs stopped, body taken aback as you stared at his shirtless body, tone muscles and triceps flexing as he squeezed his tits, squirting the milk out.
“I am over-lactating.”
“What happened to the breast cups?”
“Look at me princess. 'm leaking too much. They ain't gon' hold it. Agh fuck!” He spat angrily as you watched the milk travel down his abs, covering it in sweetness.
“Fuck the date. I have a better plan.” You winked at him.
“Shit. Calm down, ma—ugh. Y'er gonna bruise my tits." You were riding his rock, rocking your body back and forth on his crotch while sucking his swollen dark peachy nipples. Your hands struggled to hold his chest because they were bigger than it, causing your nails to dig into the skin.
“Mmh lvove yvour mwilk shwo mwuch.” Your dirty muffled comments vibrating on his skin.
“Y'er drunk, ma. Ya like to get drunk on daddy's milk, hmm?” He cooed, planting a spank on your ass.
“Lwove it.”
“Hm mhh,” he chuckled. “Nasty fucking girl. Move—ahh! Move faster. Need to cum.” You followed his orders, not looking up once to meet his eyes but busy soaking in the drug and flavor of his milk.
“Ngh—twoji, too much. Wan' a break.” You complained, but he was not going to let you stop. This was your plan after all.
“Nuh uh! Don't pull that now.” He grabbed your ass and started bouncing them up and down. You felt so insides bursting with pleasure, cheeks burning up, eyes rolling back. “Gonna cum, ma. Make sure this pussy drinks all my cum as you stuff your mouth with my milk—gahh! fhuck fhuck! fuuuuck!” He was talking as if you had a choice when one of his hand forced you down on his cock as he painted your hole in his cum, while the other hand pushed your face further against his tits. He watched as milk overflowed from the side of your lips. “Such a good girl f'me. You wan' more?”
𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐔𝐍𝐀 𝐑𝐘𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐍
Sukuna tend to get a bit crazier when he was in heat. He fucked you with more strength, came a lot more than usual. It was hard to keep his mood balanced. You tried to suggest him some diet during those days of the month, but he refused to eat greens. A big man like him fancies flesh. Furthermore, why does he need a diet when he has the most proven effective method?
“K-kuna…agh! Too biiig." You cried. Sukuna had you on top of him, his big body splayed on the king-size bed—that surprisingly was almost the same size as him—your thighs trembling, kneecaps digging the mattress as you struggled to keep hi dick inside. Your head was telling you to get off it. Yet, your tight little cunt craved more of him.
“Hmm,” he chuckled. “Your pussy has a habit of biting more than she can swallow.” His teases were humiliating. Your hands rested on his chest, tongue reminiscing the sweet taste of his milk. Even though you were not completely dominant in this relationship—it is hard to be one when you are dating a man like sukuna—there were times when you initiated the things he would usually pester you about. Your lustful eyes gave him a look he hadn't seen before. Soon, he felt your hands tightening around his tits. Now he knew what you were up to.
“Want a taste, my woman?” All you could do was give a light nod because most of your strength was busy rolling your waist on his cock. “Go ahead. Suck my milk out.”
Without a second thought, you found your lips kissing his puffy pink nipples. You could feel the veins throbbing as you were suckling his juice out. Sukuna's milk was sweet with a hint of tanginess. Nevertheless, you loved it.
“Shhit! Calm down woman. I am not going anywhere.” His words were just background noise to you because all you could hear is squelching of your pussy and your slurps on his tiddie.
“Mmghh! Don't tell me you're planning on getting drunk.” His shoulders adjusted themselves to get a better position. “If you are—fuck. Then don't expect me to go easy tonight.” You unlatched your mouth from him for what seemed like after fifteen minutes to finally speak.
“Want you to ruin my pussy, kuna. Mmh,” you jerked your hips forward. “Want you to fill my mouth with milk as you do it.”
“Get off.” His tone shifted from somewhat sweet to serious. You followed his orders anyway. You both exchanged positions so now he was on top of you.
“My dirty human. Better stick to your words, darling. I am not planning on stopping until you're drenched in my cum and my milk”
𝐆𝐄𝐓𝐎 𝐒𝐔𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐔
You always knew Suguru's heat cycle. As the days approached closer, he used to become more and more whiny and clingy, arguing with you over petty things. His behavior did a 180° on these days.
Earlier today, you had a discourse over chores. He nagged at how you should keep things in place, or you won't find them when you need it. You understood where he was coming from, but the work had taken quite a toll on you that you barely had energy tonight. He just wouldn't let it go, and you grew more frustrated. You yanked him by his wrist, dragging his giant, muscular body to the shower. And here you were, stroking him off as you nibbled, and suckled on his tits. The continuous pour of warm water stimulating both of you.
“This is what you wanted, right, sugu?” you looked up, chin nuzzling in his cleavage. “Nagging me the whole day. You just wanted your tits sucked.” His brows scrunched together. A large hand approached your face, cupping your cheeks. He had his fingers digging the muscle on your face until they squished together.
“Behave,” his voice stern. “Just 'cause 'm in heat doesn't mean you hold the upper hand, baby.”
“Oh, but I do, Sugu—*spank* Ah! What was that for?”
“For teasing me. I know you love drinking my milk, princess. Get to it 'cause I can't take it nomo.” He pressed your face against one of his boobs, your nose pressured a little above the nipple, forcing the spurts of milk out.
“You gon' let it fall down the drain?” Your immediate action was to cup his tiddy with both of your hands—his chest was too big to use one—massaging all of the juice out. You opened your mouth and let it aim at your tongue.
“Fucking hell! This is why—mmghh easy, princess. 'Tis all sore.”
“I gotchu, sugu.” You eased out the movement of your hands, gently kneading them.
“Fhuuck, yes. Just like that.” Other hand travelled back down, grabbing his throbbing boner, squeezing the base as you squeezed his nipples. Geto planted a kiss on top of your head. “Holy shit. Still can't believe you're mine.” Your lips morphed into a smile, teeth still grasping his nipple. “Look at'cha. My milk's getting your high already.” He picked you up bridal style, your tongue still licking his puffed chest, as he kicked the bathroom door open that lead to your bedroom. “You got your treat. Time f'me to get mine, princess.”
𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐈 𝐊𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐎
Working 9to5, staring all day at a computer screen is what your life had been all about. You switched companies to think you might get something new to do, but to no one's surprise, it was the same. Except, this one man you were crushing on since day one.
Nanami Kento was a gentleman they described in those fairytales. Always so respectful, kind and damn he was a big feminist. Although, with him being the perfect husband material, you were still never going to cross the line because you were co-workers. That didn't mean you weren't allowed to crush.
“And then Mr. Sasaki from HR department knocked the beer over,” your TL chattered. Nanami wasn't the one to gossip, but Sakurako-san was your team leader and older than everyone. She wasn't a bad person but oh boy did she love tea. You fake gasped to give her the reaction she wanted, as you side-eyed Kento who looked a bit uncomfortable.
“Then he had the audacity to—”
“Excuse me,” Nanami withdrew halfway from the conversation he wasn't even participating in much, walking away abruptly.
After a few minutes, you decided to look for him to make sure he was alright. Of course, as a co-worker, you should. Nothing related to the heart eyes you give him, right?
You stomped towards the corridor almost making a left until you heard loud coughs reverberating through the walls of the men's washroom. You swore it was him. Furthermore, you shouldn't have gone in. What were you thinking? It was a men's washroom, for fuck's sake. But what if something happened to him? Sure.
Pushing the door in a hurry, you entered, almost tripping. “Nanami-san—” You did not whether you should be embarrassed, shocked or horrified. Maybe all three.
“Are you okay?”
“You shouldn't be here, l/n-san.” True. But seeing him squeeze his tits, and milking himself down the drain was the sight you were blessed to see. You locked the door behind, the clicking of the latch making Nanami hold his breath, “What are you doing?”
“You're going to let all that milk go to waste, Kento?” His dick twitched. You never called him by his first name, and now you were asking inappropriate questions along with calling him Kento.
“L/N-san, this isn't right—”
“Shhh. Just wanna help you. We're colleagues, aren't we?” He nodded.
Without breaking any eye contact you hopped on the counter, hands reaching for his nipples glistening with milk under the off-white light. You pressed your palm against his chest, feeling the liquid staining it, only starting to cramming the swell more. Kento lost his composure, hands falling flat on the counter, head on your shoulders. Couple of shaky breaths, fading soft moans leaving his lips. Pushing him back for a second to only latch your tongue on the dark pink bud, you were sure you're way past the appropriate relationship of just work buddies.
“L/n—ah! Can I?” He darted his eyes down where the tent peeked out his gray formal pants. You smiled. Knowing he needed friction, you adjusted your pencil skirt, and wrapped your legs around him, boner pressed against wet patch on your panties. Nanami felt like he was in heaven. He started humping against your clothed pussy, being rough contradictory to his gentle innocent touches to you before. But it was only reasonable given the fact that he was in heat.
He never knew the feeling of being milked from both ends, but now when he came, he ruined his whole expensive suit. The edges of the mustard yellow shirt becoming translucent with his milk, with a dark spot on his pants between his legs. He let out a shaky breath, apologizing as he slowly came back to his senses.
“What are you apologizing for? I started it,” you said as you hopped off the countertop. “Let me know if you ever need more help, Nanami-san.” A wink from is what caused his cheeks to turn red. “I'll bring you spare clothes from your desk.”
𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐒𝐎 𝐊𝐀𝐌𝐎
Most lactation in men started in their early twenties. Although, it wasn't unusual for some to start late. There was nothing medically wrong with them. But you've heard things about. How much more it hurts, and how more they leak on their first heat if they do get late.
You've been dating your boyfriend Choso for almost a year now. He hadn't start lactating yet, which is why you researched enough on this topic just in case. Personally, you've never been physical with men when they're in heat. Not because it is not your thing, but your relationships were too short to actually be comfortable in experiencing it. Of course, you would never do anything with Choso at his displeasure just because you wanna try it. You love him too much. But the thought would never leave your mind. What would he act like in his heat? Well, it was your lucky day. Because you came home to a whining lactating man.
“Cho…baby, are you okay?” You rushed to him in concern. Choso was on the bed, hair down with tears in his eyes as he pressed his chest together.
“Babyyy, It hurts. I don't know what is happening.” His hold on your wrist a little too tight. “Fuck. It hurts so bad. Make it stop. Leaking too much and my cock hurts too.” You could hear—feel the desperation in his voice. His cock was on full display as his boxers dangled near his ankles. The swollen tip shining with pre-cum seducing your mouth. But your mouth was needed more elsewhere. You remembered your first sex education class, how men in heat can be relieved if you milk and suck their tits. You discarded your clothes, getting bare and settling on his lap. Your hole rubbing against the body of his shaft as you pressed your tits against his, kissing his forehead.
“Cho shhh. Baby you're fine. You're just in heat. 's gonna be alright. 'm here, okay?” He sniffled as you pampered him. “Gonna take good care of my boyfie.” You left a trail of lipstick stains as you kissed his body, slowly trailing towards the puffy nipples. You looked up at him for consent, only to continue when he whispered a “please”. With your tongue darting out, you soaked in the view before licking a stripe.
“Shit,” Choso cursed. You do it a few more times until you're finally sucking on it like a popsicle. “Fuck. Ah!” It was indeed too much because with only fifteen seconds in, your mouth was already full of his milk, leaking from the corner of your lips. It wasn't a normal amount. But given the fact that it was his first, that too at this age, you brushed it off, focusing back to sucking. You gulped the milk, each sip making you dizzy. It made you grind harder against his cock, moaning along with him. His whimpers making you wet, and his dick enjoying your slippery pussy.
“Wanna cum. Please. Wanna cum, baby.” He begged and you started fastening your pace. The sheets were wet, along with your neck and tits as he shot spurts of sweet milk in your mouth that dripped down your body. Some of it sneaking its way down between his dick and your cunt. You held on to his shoulder, giving his chest a few slaps, making him rut harder against you that the bed started creaking.
“Cumming. Fuck, I am cumming. Ah! Ah! Ah! Ngh—holy fuuuuck!” Your own orgasming cunt could feel his dick twitch as it shot a load out. His hardened nipples turning soft. He immediately cupped your cheeks, pulling you up. “I love you so much, fuck. Thank you.” He said before he kissed you, his tongue lapping against yours, tasting himself on you.
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@kiffenisstupid @pastelle-rabbit @lxnarphase @teddybeartoji @rizzmin @yuta-nation @evxelisy @hellkaiserinphoenix @ffsg0jo @princessoflalaland @baekinola @chuuyasboots @cathybarn @togamest @katsukichu @blkkizzat
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sungbeam · 7 months
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nonidol!jeong yunho x f!reader
yunho might have been the superstar out of the two of you, but you have always been the center of his universe. (you — it's always been you.)
▷ genre, warnings. bffs2l, childhood friends 2 lovers, pining, popstar/singer au, swearing, fluff, humor, angst, hurt/comfort, kissing, mentions of alcohol, mentions of anxiety/nervousness, they physically cannot be apart for too long sorry they've got Attachment Issues low-key..., one kiss (is all it takes—)
▷ word count. 16.3k (guys,, this was supposed to be only like 6-8k i swear 😭)
▷ associated tunes. keep smiling (demxntia), gone too long (lullaboy), tear in my heart (twenty-one pilots)
a/n: hope u guys like this :'))) i had one of the scenes from here stuck in my brain for awhile and so i had to build the rest of the fic around it, and it turned into this monster, so uhm yes... also much love to @jaehunnyy tysm for reading thru it for me 💖
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THE DAY YUNHO'S ALBUM hit the Billboard Hot 100, you knew that you were going to need a lot more hands on deck than just you, your roommate, and Jeong Yunho himself.
“There's not enough albums, not enough time in the day, not enough of you!” You exclaimed with your fingers shoved into your hair as you took in the landscape of chaos before you on your living room floor. “Yunho, why couldn't you be ambidextrous?”
His eyes widened, body frozen where he was shoving a slice of beef jerky into his mouth. “Mwe? Pwhy are pyu yellinh ap mwe por?”
“I'm not yelling at you; I'm just wondering why you weren't born with eight arms instead of just two.” There were simply too many albums for him to sign before his agent came to pick them up in two hours, and there were also too few albums for the amount of demand. You always knew your best friend would make it big one day, but you also thought he would have had a whole team by that time.
Technically, you were his team—you, your roommate Trinity, and Mingi who was at his grandmother's for the long weekend. Mingi was five texts away from driving back down to help you guys four hours ago though. But his family needed him right now, and Yunho was firm in ensuring Mingi didn't have to come down and help. We got this, he'd said. It'll be easy, he also said.
Sure. Easy.
“We can't just forge his signature?” Trinity joked in a sleep-deprived daze as she leaned back against the couch cushions. Her mouth opened wide in a yawn. “I'm kidding. Let's not ruin his career.”
Yunho swallowed his bite. “That would be nice.” He cleaned his fingers on the Wet Wipe he had handy by his thigh, then picked up his black Sharpie, spinning the writing utensil between his fingers. “Now where were we? Album number fifty-six—?”
This had taken place just four months after Yunho released his second album, Aurora. It had been nearly a year and a half since Yunho debuted himself onto the music scene, and it was about time people finally began to recognize your best friend for all that he was—multi-talented, charismatic, handsome (on some occasions; you wouldn’t let him catch you slipping up there, though).
Within the next year and a half, Yunho skyrocketed into further altitudes of fame.
There were plenty of changes that occurred, many evolutions to Yunho's team and additions to his discography, but you were always a part of it. Even with your own career dealings, you would drop anything to be there for him, and him for you. Between the morning show interviews and late night recording sessions, there were also the research presentations and study session pick-me-ups.
“Are you sure you don't wanna come with?” You asked from where you were stationed in front of the bathroom mirror, putting on the final touches for your look this evening.
You could hear Trinity's fingers clacking away at her keyboard at the speed of light through her open bedroom door. “I'd love to, but I unfortunately did screw myself over by procrastinating on this paper. Have fun though, and tell Yunho congrats for me.”
Tonight was the album release party for Yunho's third full studio album entitled Youth. It was something he had been working on for years now, only recently having become satisfied with the tracks he chose and produced for it. Due to his sudden rise in fame, the release party was said to be hosting a myriad of big name celebrities and figures in the music industry. And of course, you. You were no one special, in hindsight, but Yunho couldn't begin to imagine celebrating a milestone without you by his side.
By eight o'clock, you were ready to head out.
You bid Trinity goodbye as you hustled out the front door of your apartment and down to the street below. Yunho and Mingi and everyone else would already be at the party; you would arrive on your own via Uber. You wished you could've been with him to get ready like all the other times, but your schedule had been unfortunate as of late. You were lucky enough to have gotten off of work this early.
As you sat in the backseat of your ride, you anxiously fidgeted with your phone in your lap.
(You were, without a doubt, excited to arrive at the party. Due to yours and Yunho's ever-busy and ever-conflicting schedules nowadays—yours because of work and PhD candidacy stuff, Yunho's because of rehearsals for his upcoming world tour—it had been awhile since you were able to hang out in person. You missed your gentle giant of a best friend.)
A loud vibration from it made your heart leap into your throat, and your face lit up in the dark with the incoming notification.
rockstar 🤟: pls tell me you've left the house
You snorted and typed out a swift reply. If I told you I was still in my pajamas…
rockstar 🤟: then i would call u a liar cuz u don't go to work in pjs, weirdo rockstar 🤟: just getting antsy tbh rockstar 🤟: need my star here w me :’)))
You couldn't help the touched pout that came to your face. I'm almost there, don't worry. And who are you calling a star when that's you? He always got a little sappy when he was nervous.
rockstar 🤟: im literally not having fun here without u hurry up :// your phone: isn't this UR album release party 😭 yun, why aren't u having fun? rockstar 🤟: just hurry up your phone: aish okok 🤧 eta 8min mr. impatient
You knew it was the jitters making him say things like that. Once you got there, you hoped you could help reassure him that he could stop worrying for just a second to enjoy himself. Even if Yunho worried about the album and what people thought, you were just as nervous. You hadn't even heard the entire thing—he’d been cheeky and didn't tell you he added a song to it last minute, but you'd listened to everything else.
You just hoped that people would continue to celebrate him and give him the love he deserved.
When your Uber driver pulled into the drop off loop at the front of the venue, you thanked him on your way out and threw the strap of your small purse over your shoulder. Already, however, as you were met with the residuals of flashing camera lenses and frantic paparazzi calls just a little ways down the driveway, the anxiety slowly began to settle in the pit of your stomach.
You could see the celebrities going up the entrance with people asking them to pose for their cameras, to say a word into their recorders.
Immediately, you turned on your heel and began slipping your way to a side entrance. The last thing you wanted was for dozens upon dozens of people to be staring at you, wondering who you were and why you were important. There were definitely people who knew you—you were plastered all over Yunho's social media because that was just what best friends did. But compared to everyone else walking up that driveway? Not a chance. You were nobody, and that was ay-okay to you.
Just as you thanked one of the employees coming out the side door for letting you in, you felt your phone buzz in your hand again, this time with an incoming call.
You picked it up and squeezed it between your ear and shoulder. “You're gonna need to speak up—the kitchen is super loud.”
“You're here finally!” Yunho said to you through the phone. “I was starting to get worried.”
You chuckled as you ducked out of the kitchen and into the main lobby to get to the elevators. The party was taking place somewhere on the seventh floor… if you could get there without getting lost. “Hey Yun, do me a favor?”
“Sure.”
“Calm down, man.”
The elevator sang its arrival and you stepped inside to the sound of Yunho sucking in a deep breath, then exhaling slowly. “I am calm… wait, are you in the lobby? Let me come down and get y—”
“I just got in the elevator, so don't worry—and I really don't think you should be leaving your own party, rockstar,” you teased. “Man, Mingi and Hwa really pulled out all the stops for this place,” you marveled quietly as you gave the elevator carriage a thorough look. It was made of marble and mirrors, every surface polished and crisp, like that of a tailored suit if tailored suits were made of crystals.
“Yeah, it's really great,” he agreed. “Remember the release party we threw for Crescent?”
A fond laugh tumbled out of your lips as you stepped out of the elevator and onto the seventh floor. Your mind filled with memories of his debut album's release party hosted in yours and Trinity's living room with three extra large Domino's pizzas, root beer floats, and a cheap disco ball. It had been a party for four that night—you, Yunho, Mingi, and Trinity—but your friends didn't need the fancy shit to have fun. “Definitely leagues away from this.”
There was a bouncer at the far end of the hallway, and you were certain now that you were in the right place.
“I kind of miss it,” Yunho murmured. You heard the sound on his end shift, simultaneous to watching the doors in front of you crack open and see Yunho's head pop out into the empty hallway.
“I kind of miss it, too,” you said into the phone, your eyes locked on his and a smile blooming over your features at the sight of your best friend, in the flesh.
There was a tender gleam in his eyes as he took you in and said something in a low tone to the bouncer. He stepped out into the hallway, letting the doors behind him shut fully.
“Slowpoke,” was his greeting to you as he scooped you into his embrace. The smell of his cologne was something familiar and delicious, and permeated your senses.
“Worrywart,” you quipped back, wrapping your arms around him to reciprocate.
When you both pulled back, he kept you at arm's length so he could take a better look at you. “I can't believe you're calling me the worrywart! I do recall that one night when Aurora hit the Top 100—”
You silenced him with a look and a playful punch to his shoulder. You pressed your lips together to suppress a smile as he tilted his head back in a jovial laugh. “Quiet, you. For once, I can't believe you're more nervous than I am.”
He gave a sheepish grin, fussing with the unbuttoned collar of his dress shirt, adjusting the chain he wore on his collarbones so the clasp sat right at the hollow of his throat.
You softened. Oh, he was really nervous.
“This album's just big for me; you know that,” he said, almost like he was trying to brush it off.
“I do.” The two of you began slowly making your way back towards the party doors. “Though, I'm excited to hear this mystery song that you snuck on there. I'm sure everyone will fall in love with the album, just like I did.”
He peered over at you then, and you couldn't understand why you were unable to read his expression then. It was… different. “Really?”
You blinked. “Of course,” you replied automatically. “I mean,” you added, “it's you, Yun. What's not to love?”
Yunho seemed speechless for a second, but moments later, he was breaking into a soft-cornered smile. “You always know what to say, Yn. Come on, there are some people who are dying to meet you.”
“Dying to meet me?” You laughed as the bouncer let the two of you into the party.
The party room was a rented out lounge space with wraparound windows that looked out at the skyline in the valley below. The main lights were kept low and warm, illuminating strategic places throughout the space to highlight the prohibition-like interior design. It was something out of a 1920s speakeasy with its velvet couches and dark mahogany wood finishes.
Yunho took you over toward the side of the room to get food first. There was a variety of snacks and small bites on the buffet table, and there was a bar counter shoved into the far corner where a bartender served drinks.
“I've pretty much socialized with everyone in this room already,” Yunho murmured to you as he shoved his hands into his pockets and grinned. “Meaning I can bug you for the rest of the night.”
Your eyebrows shot up. “There has to be, like, fifty people here. We still have the whole party left.”
“Yeah, but I have more fun with you anyway,” he said with a shrug. He reached for one of the little serving cups that held a little roll of rice armed with a slice of wagyu beef on top, all wrapped together with a strip of nori. “Now these—these are fucking amazing, dude. You have to try one.”
You snorted, but grabbed one of the little cups. “How many of these have you eaten already, Yun?”
He tapped his cup against yours like he was clinking glasses together. He chuckled, averting his gaze. “We don't have to talk about that…” His eyes caught onto someone nearby, and he perked up, shoving the entire bite into his mouth so he had a free hand to flag down whoever it was. “Mmh!”
You nearly choked on your own bite as you watched your best friend, who's cheeks were stuffed like a chipmunk's, flap his arm around in the air to get this person's attention because his mouth was currently occupied.
You turned your head to see who he was waving over, and nearly choked again, having to cup your hand over your mouth to prevent rice from falling out. Your eyes widened an alarming amount. “Mmno—!” You mumbled through your bite.
“What? I can't hear you,” he snickered. “Hongjoong hyung! There's someone I want you to meet.”
You made a crazed gesture—no, no, I'm not ready! How dare you ambush me with social interac—you swallowed the food in your mouth as Hongjoong made his way over. You had never met the famed Kim Hongjoong—legendary producer, prodigy musician, favorite model to ever strut down the Paris Fashion Week Runway. He dropped off the grid for a brief three-month hiatus until he suddenly reappeared, but in your best friend's Instagram story. At some point, Yunho had met Hongjoong and won his favor. Then again, it was easy for Yunho to win over anyone's favor.
No one really knew why Hongjoong disappeared like he had, but some speculate it had something to do with his new relationship status: single.
You were always starstruck seeing Hongjoong on Yunho and Mingi's social media, as well as Hongjoong's own platforms. Tonight was no exception.
Hongjoong's hair of the season was a simple light brown that complimented his skin tone and the warmth in his smile. You were used to seeing him in more extravagant garb, but tonight, he chose something very simple, but chic like Yunho.
Yunho and Hongjoong clasped hands in greeting. “What's up, man?” The latter chirped, eyes flickering over to you as you attempted to behave normally.
Yunho gestured toward you, his eyes twinkling as he swept his arm around your shoulders to bring you forward. “This is Yn. Yn, this is Hongjoong. He's the one who produced the album—”
“Now, don't downplay your own efforts, Yunho,” Hongjoong cut in with a knowing look. “You produced so much of it on your own; I fine-tuned and made a couple tracks, but the rest was all you, man.”
“I always tell him he's far too humble,” you agreed.
Hongjoong sent you a smile, extending his hand out. “Great minds think alike, Yn. It's very nice to meet the person this guy doesn't ever stop talking about.”
You laughed good-naturedly and saw Yunho's flushed sheepishness out of the corner of your eye. You shook Hongjoong's hand with a firm, confident grip. “Nice to meet you, too. You're—you’re incredible, by the way. I remember when Yunho posted a photo with you, and I literally screamed his ear off over the phone.”
Yunho winced and held a hand up to his ear, as if remembering the physical sensation of that phone call. “Yup, definitely damaged my eardrum that day.”
“Well, thank you; I'm flattered,” Hongjoong replied pleasantly. “So I'm assuming you've probably heard as much of the album as I have then?”
“I'm sure you've heard the whole thing,” you said. “Yunho has withheld one of the tracks from me, but I've listened to all the rest.”
He cocked his head to the side. “Oh? Which track did—oh.” As he and Yunho made eye contact, you watched as a silent understanding passed between them, and Hongjoong's mouth tugged upward in a teasing smile. “That song.”
You blinked. “What does that mean?”
Hongjoong flourished his hand as if to wave away the thought. “He just wanted it to be perfect, so we were working on it up to the last second. Nothing terribly concerning.”
Ah. You relaxed, but the curiosity still lingered in your mind's eye. “I'm sure it's great, nonetheless.”
“Oh yeah, you're gonna love—”
“Oh-kay! That's enough about the song,” Yunho chuckled nervously as he grabbed your shoulders and began steering you away from a clearly amused Hongjoong. “Let's go say hi to Mingi, hm?”
You threw him a look from over your shoulder, but went along with him toward wherever he'd seen Mingi wandering around. “What has gotten into you tonight?” You teased, though, you also hoped to know why he was so jittery. He wasn't even this nervous about dropping his debut album.
Yunho showed you a bright smile, the same kind of golden-retriever expression that the media knew him well for. It would have been enough if you didn't know him. “Again, it's an important album to me. And the song I added last minute is on the deluxe version, so I wasn't really confident in putting it on the original release.”
“Ah,” you murmured. You reached up to pat the hand that rested on your left shoulder reassuringly. “I'm sure it really is a great song, Yun, and I'm not just saying that. You can make an awful omelet, but you can't make an awful song.”
Your best friend bursted into laughter at the latter comment, and your heart soared to see the genuine smile on his face now. That was your Yunho shining through. “You're right—if I can't scramble eggs, at least I can write a song.”
Over the next hour and a half, Yunho took you on a tour around the room, jumping from friend to friend to introduce you to more of his world. For the most part, however, it felt like an excuse for you to bond with all his friends in teasing him about something or other. But he seemed content enough to see you getting along well with the other people close to him.
He had met plenty of your friends at your work, so it was only fair that you got the same opportunity.
At some point while you were with Wooyoung and San discussing all of the rehearsals for Yunho's upcoming world tour, Hongjoong summoned everyone's attention to announce that it was time to listen to the album. It would be a rather casual affair with the Youth album playing in the background of the party, but you were certain people would minimize their conversations to listen in.
You craned your neck to peer around the crowd to see where Yunho had gone off to. “Wait, guys, did you see where Yunho went?”
Wooyoung and San joined your search, but quickly hustled you into a nearby booth to sit and enjoy the album with your drinks. “He'll find us,” Wooyoung assured you as the three of you slipped into the leather seats. “He wouldn't miss this.”
“He'll at least be here by the last song,” San said offhandedly, his eyebrows wagging up and down.
Your lips parted, your face morphing into feigned offense. “Wait. Did he let you guys listen to the deluxe edition song, too?”
“Maybe,” Wooyoung giggled.
San cooed at your pout. “Awwh, don't take it to heart, Yn-ie. It was supposed to be a surprise for you.”
You raised your drink to your lips, sighing before taking a sip. “Everybody talks about this damn song as if he wrote it for me.”
Unbeknownst to you, the two others at the table exchanged pointed looks between one another when you were looking away. It was a wonder how Yunho was able to keep this all a secret from you. Though, even San and Wooyoung knew how busy you could get nowadays, so perhaps it really was just that easy. Plus, they had all at one point or another been privy to Yunho’s feelings—
“Speak of the Devil,” you perked up at the sight of your best friend emerging from the crowd with the others—Hongjoong, Seonghwa, Mingi, Jongho (vocal coach and album feature), and Yeosang (PR management)—in tow behind him. “We were wondering where you had gone off to.”
Yunho grinned as the lot of them squished into the circular seating arrangement with you, San, and Wooyoung. “Sorry, had to go round everyone up. The album should be queued up and ready to go.” He chose to sit on the end of the booth to your right while everyone else filled it up from the other side.
You offered him a sip of your drink, and he gladly took the glass from you. “So San and Woo were just telling me about how their tour prep is coming. You guys are leaving—what was it—two weeks from now?”
He hummed, smacking his lips as he set the glass back down on the table. “Yeah, it should be just about two weeks,” he said. His arm came up to rest against the back of the booth seat behind you. “You know, you can still come to the first stop with us…” This was said with a very pointed look at you from Yunho, followed by similar expressions from everyone else around the table.
“And you know that day’s when my supervisor holds quarterly meetings that are mandatory,” you shot back. As much as you hated the timing, the day that Yunho and the team planned to fly to their first stop on his world tour, you were required to be present for a very important meeting at work.
The Youth World Tour was something Yunho had been looking forward to and preparing for a long time. Besides working on the Youth album itself, his working hours extended over the past year or so to get ready for this major milestone. You would definitely be able to meet up with them at one of the tour stops, you just weren’t sure which one yet.
Things at your workplace were a little rocky as of late due to shifting management, but you would play it by ear. For your best friend, of course you would make it work somehow.
Your ears pricked up at the sound of strings strumming overhead and your heart leapt out of your ribcage for a moment. “Oh my god, I love this song.”
“You and me both, Yn,” Hongjoong chuckled across the table from you, reaching over so you could bump fists with him, “you’ve got good taste.”
“You’re only saying that because you wrote this one specifically,” Yunho sputtered out a laugh while rolling his eyes.
“It’s a good message,” you said, picking up your drink to take a generous gulp of it. There was a little left at the bottom of the martini glass and you swirled the liquid around before handing it over to Yunho to finish. “I think this one will definitely make it onto my work playlist.”
Yunho draped the back of his hand over his forehead, setting the now empty glass on the table. “Wow, relegated to the work playlist. Is that all I am to you?”
“You are a mood maker,” you pointed out with a teasing smile.
“Bro, you're complaining as if Yn doesn't put her work playlist on for everything she does.” Mingi arched his brows over the rims of his sunglasses. (Why was he wearing sunglasses indoors and at night? You didn't know; he said something about looking cool.)
Wooyoung chuckled. “What? So let's say you're trying to sleep—”
“Yah, I have a different playlist for that! I'm not completely unreasonable.”
“Completely,” Yunho and Mingi said at the same time, then looked at each other with wide, excited eyes. They bursted out laughing at once, too, leaving you to deadpan at the two clowns to your eleven o'clock and three o'clock.
You sighed. “I hate you guys.”
That only made them laugh louder, spurring on the others to crack smiles and for you to do the same.
Yunho calmed slightly, his cheeks hurting from smiling. “Aw, you walked right into that one, Yn.”
“So you're saying you are, in some capacity, unreasonable—oh my god, don't hurt me!” Mingi shrieked as he shoved Yeosang's body in front of him like a human shield as you lurched forward and threatened to grab him.
Yeosang sent Mingi a dirty look as he wrestled out of his neighbor's hold. “Dude.”
“Jongho, protect me.”
The vocal coach popped the olive from his martini into his mouth. “If you can't handle the heat, hyung, stay out of the kitchen.”
You nodded, raising your pointer finger up. “Exactly.”
For the next hour, you and your friends shared good company and conversation, while also commenting on, praising, and enjoying the tunes from Yunho's Youth album. There were a good thirteen songs featured on the album, and while most of them were inspired by real life, you remembered the days and nights when Yunho would break out the white board under his bed to draw out a concept map of the storyline he'd created in his head for some songs. It was like a miniature Easter egg hunt for fans to piece together from album to album.
When the clock hit nearly midnight, you recognized the song that marked the end of the conventional album—track number thirteen, 22. It was a song that reflected and lamented on his early stages of adulthood, all the goods and bads, all the hopes and dreams he had left. It was something that tied the regular album with a satisfying bow, but you were also giddy to hear the secret fourteenth deluxe track.
But as his ethereal voice from 22 faded out, the same guitar chords from the first song of the album began to play.
Everyone at the table paused in confusion.
“Uhh, I thought you were revealing the hidden track tonight, Yunho?” Seonghwa asked from across the table.
Yunho tilted his body out of the booth to peer into the sound booth at the very back of the lounge, a furrow in his brow. “I thought I was, too,” he said as he stood up. “I’ll be back in a sec.”
Before anyone else could say anything, Yunho disappeared past the door to the sound booth. You frowned as Hongjoong excused himself to catch up with him, mumbling something about helping with any technical difficulties.
In retrospect, it wouldn't be the biggest deal if you didn't get to hear the song tonight. You would simply listen to it when the deluxe album dropped in about a week, but you wouldn't deny that you were a little disappointed. Everyone else at this table had already listened to it—why had Yunho not shared it with you yet? Did he think you would judge him or not like it? You didn't think you were ever so harsh a critic, but that would explain why he was so nervous all night.
Regardless, you remained positive.
When Yunho and Hongjoong returned to the table, the rest of you all looked on to them expectantly.
“Something wacky is going on with the system right now and won't play the file for the hidden track,” Hongjoong huffed. He passed Yunho a sidelong glance, and you saw how Yunho avoided his friend's eyes like the plague. “Sorry to disappoint, Yn.”
Everyone's attention whipped toward you, and you straightened like a deer caught in headlights. “Oh, uhm, it's no biggie,” you said. You glanced over at Yunho who, if anything, seemed guilty. Or maybe it was just something apologetic. “Really—I can wait for it to drop officially.”
You didn't like how the air seemed to shift during this exchange, as if all the other boys were sitting on the edges of their seats, faces morphed into mixed ranges of confusion and disbelief.
You cleared your throat. “Anyone want more drinks?”
As the night waned and the party came to a close, you found yourself being helped into another Uber car to head home. After the supposed tech glitch, the remainder of the party passed by without a hitch. At the very end, Yunho popped open a theatrical bottle of champagne for all his guests to close out the celebration.
The backseat door closed just as Yunho ducked in with you, his hand waving out the window to San, Wooyoung, and Jongho passing by along the curb.
The alcohol had gradually made its way to your brain, and there was a light buzzing at the base of your skull that made you feel all warm and fuzzy. You yawned, leaning your head against Yunho's shoulder.
He chuckled, one of his hands coming up to gently pat your head. “Tired?”
“Mhm,” you hummed as your eyelids fluttered closed. “You didn't have to lie, y'know.”
You felt his shoulder tense under your cheek. If only you could feel the rapid beating in his chest, then he'd be as good as done.
“I don't know what you're talking about,” he replied innocently, nimble fingers running over the chain links of his wristwatch.
Your eyes cracked open slowly. “Yunho.”
A beat passed, then he sighed. “Are you mad?” He asked quietly and his hand nearest to you found yours as he began to mindlessly inspect the chipped nail polish on your fingertips.
“No, silly. Why would I be mad?” When he didn't respond right away, you let out an exhale of your own. “I mean, I could tell you were nervous about me listening to the song all night. And if you weren't ready for me to listen to it yet, then I totally get that, and I'm okay with waiting. I just would rather you tell me that instead of make Hongjoong lie for you.”
He stopped playing with your fingers. “I'm sorry, for the record. Thank you for understanding.”
You hummed in reply.
The drive continued on with the accompaniment of a random radio station playing on low volume. You weren't going to fall asleep just yet with the alcohol still working its way through your system, but you kept your eyes closed nonetheless.
“I missed you, you know?” Were his first words to break the next silence.
A small smile wormed its way onto your face. “I missed you, too. I feel like we haven't seen each other in forever.”
He chuckled, the low sound rumbling through his chest and into your ear. “Texting can only take us so far. Isn't that crazy? We can't even survive a week without hanging out, but we're… we're about to be separated for so much longer timewise and distance-wise.”
You grumbled. “Don't remind me—wait. Has it really only been a week?” You peeked one eye open, a frown coming to your lips. “No way.”
Yunho smiled, shaking his head. “Believe it or not, stargirl. It's been only a week.”
“In-fucking-sane.”
“You're telling me.”
“How are we going to survive?” You pondered aloud, genuinely. If you couldn't fly out to see him within the first handful of tour stops, you and Yunho at the soonest wouldn't be able to see each other for three weeks. And if you couldn't escape your work duties and your PhD responsibilities, then it would be longer than that. “You're gonna have a closer relationship with your Valorant account than me.”
Yunho snorted. “I already have a closer relationship with my Valorant account than you.”
“Shucks.” You breathed out. “Guess I'll just text Hongjoong then. You know what he told me tonight when we were exchanging numbers? All eight of you nerds have a group chat and he gets ignored like a mom in a family chatroom.”
Your comment made a laugh tumble out of Yunho's mouth. “Did he make that analogy?”
“No, Seonghwa did when he overheard.”
A wheeze. “That tracks.” Yunho licked his lips as he turned his head slightly to glance down at you leaning on his shoulder. With his free hand, he warmed his palm over your head like he could keep you here forever. “So what's this about texting Joong?”
You shifted your position to get more comfortable and clung to his arm to press yourself closer. There was still a little ways to go before you reached your apartment. “I told him offhandedly that I wanna pick up a new hobby… something about crocheting or something, and apparently that guy is like… amazing at everything, so he's gonna help me out.”
“Ah.” The sound was quiet. “I'm glad you guys got along.”
You smiled to yourself. “Me too. He's really cool.”
“Not cooler than me though, right?”
You blindly reached over to pat his chest in warm reassurance. “Don't worry, big guy. I guess you're still the coolest guy I know.”
He clicked his tongue at you with a weak chiding, “Yah. You only guess? Don't tell Mingi that.”
“Oh, I wouldn't dream of it.”
The Uber eventually pulled up along the curb outside your apartment complex. You lifted your head up from Yunho's shoulder and woke yourself up with a good stretch of your limbs.
He helped you out of the car, handing you your purse when you finally got your bearings. “Are you sure I can't walk you up? You look like your knees are about to buckle,” he chuckled.
You shook your head. The cool evening air was helping your brain to sober up. “No, no. Don't worry about it—I’m not as drunk as that one year.”
“Dear heart, how could I forget,” he teased. “Mingi still has the recording of when you begged to be bridal carried.”
Your face warmed at his mention of that memory and you wrinkled your nose at him. “I was gonna say ‘I love you’ along with goodnight, but I suppose not.”
Yunho froze. “What?”
Maybe you really weren't sobering up, because you didn't catch his strange reaction. “Nevermind,” you said flippantly. “Love you, Yun. Good night. Get home safe!”
He seemed to unfreeze, his lungs filling with breath again. A soft smile melted onto his pretty lips as he looked on toward you with a warm fondness. “Love you, too. Good night, Yn.”
He remained where he was outside the car door as he watched you dig your keys out from your purse and open the complex door. When you had one foot inside, you stopped, and turned back to him with a big grin on your face. “Hey!”
“Hey?” He laughed.
“I'm proud of you.”
For the thousandth time tonight, you made him lose his breath, his hold on reality. He swallowed—he wanted to kiss you. “I love you. Get some rest, stargirl.”
You waved to him in reply and he waved back. Then you disappeared through the door and left him there, his heart full and beating fast, the longing in his chest weighing heavier than before.
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When you and Yunho were thirteen, you spent the longest period of time away from each other for the rest of your lives. It measured to about one summer break long when Yunho flew to South Korea to spend the entire vacation there and you could do nothing but chat with him via good, old fashioned e-mail.
Now that the two of you were older, even a couple days dragged on like an eternity. And because of your clashing and stacked schedules, a couple days almost always bled into a week.
A week since the release of Youth marked the inevitable release of its deluxe edition and the ever mysterious fourteenth track.
“Yn, wait, can you just help me finish this set of primers?”
You were this close to escaping the lab before one of your colleagues caught you. Taking a deep breath, you resolved to turn back and help them out. One less thing to worry about later, right? You could still listen to the track once you got home.
Except you couldn't, at least not right away. You saw the email on the bus ride home:
Hello TAs! One of your peers has unfortunately been involved in a motorbike accident early this evening. We have been informed that they will recover to full health, but because they are hospitalized, we will need to redistribute responsibilities regarding grades and as to who will cover their TA sections…
You skimmed down the email's contents, knowing you wouldn't be the one filling in as an actual TA. Because you were a first year graduate student in your first quarter, you opted to start off with grading work for now. But even if you didn't have to deal with a whole section of undergraduates, you could feel the blood drain from your face.
“You've gotta be shitting me,” you said, then slapped your hand over your mouth once you realized you'd said that aloud. You mouthed a sheepish “sorry” to a parent and her child nearby, then ducked your head to look at the contents once more.
There was no way they wanted—no, needed—all of those graded by tonight.
This was cruel and unusual punishment, but you knew you were going to do it anyway.
By the time you finished grading, shoveled dinner into your mouth, and took a therapeutically scalding hot shower, it was sometime past two in the morning. Thank fuck it was Saturday.
It was less than twelve hours later that you settled into the passenger seat of Yunho's Lexus sedan with a pair of shades covering your dehydrated, puffy eyes from the world and whatever paparazzi was stalking his car. Yunho glanced over at you with barely concealed amusement. “Well, good morning, princess.”
“You can't see it but I'm glaring at you,” you grunted as you strapped yourself in with the seatbelt. “I can't believe you wake up before noon now.”
“Unfortunately,” he chuckled, peeling his car away from the curb. After an unsatisfactory six hours of sleep, Yunho had woken you up with the obnoxiously loud sound of your phone ringing. You managed to negotiate for him to pick you up in two hours rather than half an hour—and now here you were. You never truly considered yourself a breakfast person and you would have happily slept all the way to lunch, but even through the exhaustion, you wanted to see him as much as he wanted to see you.
He would be gone by the end of the week, after all.
You leaned your head back against the headrest. “I used to have to lure you out of bed with the smell of bacon. Remember when you ate that entire plate of raw-ass bacon and pancake batter that Mingi made?”
Yunho let out a loud laugh that made you smile. He glanced over at you. “Bro,” he sighed, shaking his head, “you know I'll eat anything. Oh my gosh, I will never forget the horrified look on your face when you came out of the bathroom and found out what happened.”
“You looked like a kicked puppy when I told you that you shouldn't have eaten raw bacon,” you snorted. You'd felt so awful that Yunho was such a good eater who didn't complain; he didn't have any negative side effects afterward, thankfully, but you swore to never let Mingi in the kitchen or to let Mingi feed Yunho ever again, so long as you lived.
There was a café a few minutes drive from your apartment complex that the two of you liked to go to. It was a little hole in the wall, located on the second floor above a pet shelter, and the entrance could only be accessed through the stairs in the next-door alleyway.
Yunho adjusted the beanie over his bangs and you shifted your sunglasses up to the top of your head as you entered the establishment. There were a few people seated in the area to the right, but something you liked about this place was its hidden gem quality. (And the drinks and food they served, of course.)
“Hi, welcome in!” The barista behind the counter called before ducking behind the espresso machine. “Give me two seconds, and I'll be right with you.”
“No worries, take your time,” Yunho chirped back as he scoured the menu, eyes squinting and tongue darting out to wet his lips.
You had a general idea of what you wanted already, and you let Yunho know what it was before slipping off into the restroom.
By the time you emerged from the back hallway where the washrooms were, Yunho had finished ordering and was standing by one of the open two-seater tables by the far window with the soft autumn sunlight painting over his features. For a second, you stood at the opening of the hallway, just admiring him. Perhaps it was the lack of sleep making you envision the sunlight dancing around him as he sat down in one of the seats.
Heat rushed up your neck as your eyes met across the café. Gazes locked, you stood frozen, but a smile bloomed on your best friend's face like the coming of spring. It was the most beautiful thing you'd ever seen.
And then he made a face, cocking his head to the side like a puppy with a question. 'Why are you just standing there?’ He seemed to ask.
You shook yourself out of whatever strange daze you'd slipped into, then walked over to join him.
“You okay?” He asked as you took the seat across from him, a teasing lilt to his voice, yet there was still concern in the curve of his mouth.
You waved said concern away. “Yeah. I think I'm still waking up or something.”
“Ah,” he nodded in understanding. He frowned. “What time did you go to sleep last night?”
“Like… some time past two.” On cue, you let out a large yawn, lifting your sleeve up to cover your mouth. “It's okay. I'll just sleep early tonight or something. One of the other TAs got into an accident, so we just had to do some make-up work and I just happened to get home late as it was.”
You could already see the guilt manifest on his face for waking you up, and you were swift to add, “I'll be fine with food and coffee, so 's alright. What about you? How'd you sleep last night?”
“I slept decently,” he replied, leaning forward to rest his cheek against his fist. “I didn't end up dropping the deluxe album, so it was a little more restful than—”
Your brain took a second to catch up. The… the deluxe album… oh. Your eyes went from half-mast to wide open. “You—you didn't release the deluxe? Sorry, I was so busy yesterday that I didn't check my socials.”
“Don't worry about it,” he said with a sheepish smile. “But yeah, I told my manager that I still wasn't ready to release it to the public just yet. I don't know when I'll postpone it to, but it probably won't come out until while I'm on tour.”
Ah. There was that disappointment settling in the pit of your stomach again. This wasn't about you, but why did it seem like he was avoiding your eventual listening to this song? He was almost always sending you audio files without prompting, so what made this one different?
Nonetheless, it wasn't your song. You would respect Yunho's privacy if he wanted to keep this one to himself and his friends.
You unconsciously rubbed your arm. “Oh okay. Yeah, I mean—take your time, Yun. I'm glad you don't feel pressured to release it when you aren't ready.”
His expression softened to something tender that made your chest feel fuzzy. “You'll listen to it soon, I promise.”
The barista called out Yunho's order number, and your friend stood up to go retrieve it. You sighed as you fiddled with the sleeve of your shirt and peered over your shoulder as a pair of newcomers asked him for his autograph and a picture. You watched the pleasant smile spread on Yunho's face as he conversed with them as easy as breathing air, alongside the faint blush over his cheekbones.
No, you didn't know what had gotten into you this morning.
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“No, no. You have to loop it through this piece here—yeah, there you go.”
You were so concentrated on following Hongjoong's directions that you didn't even register the sound of Yunho's front door opening and closing. Hongjoong clicked his tongue and scooted closer so he could direct your hands and the crochet hook himself.
“Uhm… hey?”
Both yours and Hongjoong's heads whipped up at the sound of Yunho's confusion. He stood at the entrance to the living room area where, scattered all around you and Hongjoong, were clothes, toiletries, and other essentials laid out for Yunho to throw into his bags.
Tonight marked the evening before Yunho and the team were to set off on the Youth World Tour. Tomorrow, they would fly out sometime in the afternoon, which meant that you would have time to send them off before heading to work and class. However, because you hadn't seen Yunho since this past Saturday when he dragged your ass out of bed for breakfast, you invited yourself over to his apartment to oversee his packing. Hongjoong just so happened to be swinging by Yunho's apartment and you asked if he was up for an impromptu crocheting lesson.
Hongjoong arrived some time while Yunho ran out to the Chinese place down the block to grab dinner, and the two of you had been hunched over the ball of yarn and hook ever since.
“Oh, you're back!” You exclaimed. In your distracted state, Hongjoong took the opportunity to take the crochet piece from you and subtly fix the mistakes you made.
Yunho's brows creased, eyes darting from you to Hongjoong as he slowly placed the takeout bags on the semi-cleared coffee table. “Yeah… Joong, when did you get here?”
You leaned forward to help clear off the rest of the coffee table and to also assist in unpacking all of the takeout containers. Yunho shucked the baseball cap he was wearing off to the side, carding a hand through his dark locks.
“Like… seven minutes ago,” he replied cheekily. His mouth curled into something mischievous as he locked eyes with Yunho. “I can leave, though, if you wanted to be alone—”
“Hyung—”
“I'm messing with you,” he snickered as he handed you the yarn and hook. “I only came by to drop off the emergency backup files hard drive and to give Yn-ie a sneak peek of her crocheting lessons to come.”
(Yunho's eyes narrowed a millimeter. Yn-ie?)
You set the unfinished crochet square down on the couch to walk Hongjoong to the door. “Are we still on for tomorrow, by the way?”
“What's tomorrow?” Yunho twisted around where he was seated on the floor to watch you and Hongjoong make your way to the front door.
“You,” said Hongjoong with raised eyebrows at your best friend, “are going on a plane with everyone else. Because I'm not leaving until the day after tomorrow, Yn and I are bonding over lunch after we see you all off.”
You and Hongjoong finished up finalizing plans in the doorway, followed by amiable farewells. Yunho called out a “good night” to his friend as Hongjoong slipped out the door, and left you and him to the apartment by yourselves.
You claimed the spot on the floor next to him and accepted the pair of wooden chopsticks he extended to you. “I'm sorry if I wasn't supposed to invite him in. I probably should've asked,” you said sheepishly as you snapped the chopsticks apart.
“Oh, no, he's been over quite a few times, so it's all good,” he replied swiftly. “I just didn't expect you two to be so close.” He added a laugh at the end that sounded more nervous to him than it was supposed to.
“We've been texting back and forth, but I guess so. Nothing like the two of you,” you jested, lifting your eyebrows up and bumping your elbow against his.
Yunho grinned. “What's that supposed to mean?”
“You guys spend all that time together in the studio—WHA—NO! Keep those hands to yourself!” You shrieked, rolling out of the way to dodge his hands that threatened to tickle you into submission. Yunho had thrown his head back in a carefree laugh, a beautiful expression in itself, that had you reciprocating.
When you were sure he wasn't going to attack you (affectionately), you scooted back over to your original spot next to him. He smiled to himself at the sidelong glance you casted him, and he went and grabbed one carton of rice for himself and the other for you.
“Thank you for dinner, by the way,” you told him as you opened up your carton, his somehow already opened and spilling over with food.
You once again caught him with his mouth full, and Yunho swallowed the bite of food he had before replying. “Yeah, man. Of course.”
“I swear that I will definitely get the next meal we have—”
“Yn.” He touched the back of his hand against your arm to draw your attention to him. “You literally were the one to make sure I made it out of college alive, like, I can never thank you enough for how much you did for me then and continue to do for me now.”
You swallowed, suddenly blown back by the way he looked at you right now. “I did it because I care about you, Yun. It's not something I expect to be repaid for.”
“I know,” he said with a nod, lips pulled into a tender smile that made your stomach do flips. This was the look no one else got to see from him. Sure, he could fill stadiums of people who would see his big, bright grin that shone brighter than the sun, but… but this one, this smile, was yours. “That goes the same toward this meal, okay?”
Yunho notched his finger under your chin and tilted your head up slightly to meet his eyes. “Don't worry about it.”
You set your carton of rice and chopsticks on the table, he copied your movements, and you wrapped each other in your mutual embraces. The startling realization that you wouldn't see him for longer than a week from tomorrow onward rushed toward you like the coming of a tide to shore. Before you knew it, the water was up to your knees, and you—what were you going to do without him here?
“I miss you already,” you whispered.
You felt him squeeze you tighter, nose pressed against the side of your neck. “I won't be gone too long.” A promise.
“Thank god Seonghwa and Wooyoung can cook.” At the sound of his snort from above your head, you squawked out in your defense, “Who else is gonna make you bacon and pancakes in the morning when you’re dead tired?”
“Hey! I can fry bacon, I’ll have you know!”
You pulled away from him so he could see the look of pure disbelief on your face. “Okay, rockstar. I believe you.”
He scrunched his nose up at you. “That’s not very convincing.”
“I’m glad we’re on the same page.”
Yunho scoffed, reaching over to flick your nose. You let out a sound of indignation and rubbed your nose, a scowl on your face at Yunho’s very pleased expression. And even if you were currently conspiring on how to get back at him, you couldn’t help but resolve something right that second—you would do everything in your power to see his show in two weeks’ time—to see Yunho in two weeks’ time.
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The thing about cheap plane tickets was that the cheaper you bought them, the less “amenities” that it came with. The one you’d purchased specifically for two weeks in the future did not allow you a refund. This meant that if something were to arise, you would be a good several hundred dollars poorer, and your plans to surprise Yunho at his show would fall completely through the floor.
Good thing you weren’t about to let that happen, right? …Right?
“You’re sick.” Those were your roommate Trinity’s first words to you as you stumbled out of your bedroom and found her perched on one of the stools at the kitchen counter. She fixed you with an unimpressed look as she stirred around her morning coffee.
“I’m not—” Your own response was cut off by one very untimely cough into your elbow. You wrinkled your nose at the metallic taste at the back of your throat. Great. “—sick.”
“And I’m Oprah,” she deadpanned.
“You could be.” Did you really sound as much like a dying walrus as you thought you did? Holy shit.
She stood up from her stool, setting her coffee cup on the counter, then walked over to you to direct you back into your room. “I’m not permitting you exit from this apartment until you're better. Back to bed with you.”
“But—”
“No buts! If you wanna still be able to fly by the end of this week, then you have to get better, Yn.”
You really, unfortunately, could not argue with that. Nearly a week and a half had passed since Yunho started touring. Opening night had been a massive success, as you’d seen the broadcast and read the reviews on social media. In the concert photos and videos slowly being released online, there was no doubt in your mind that Yunho belonged onstage. He was radiant as a diamond in each depiction of him, and he sounded better and better each night.
Suffice to say, you were beyond proud and happy for him.
In order to make your surprise successful, you informed Yunho’s team of your plans so they could help you get into the concert once you arrived. Your part consisted mainly of finishing all of your work ahead of schedule so you weren’t swamped when you got back. It was nearing the end of the term, meaning there was lots to grade and study, but when you had a goal, you were determined.
The only downside was that, between the long days and nights of work, your body couldn’t fight against the swift rush of early winter air that swept through the city in the past week. Your working hours stretched out longer and longer until your body just… gave up. Or at least, it was giving up.
After calling in sick to your workplace, you crashed back into bed for what you hoped to be a restful nap. Maybe when you woke up, this would all just turn out to be a 24-hour fever.
(It was not a 24-hour fever.)
You didn't even know what time it was when you woke up groggy and your head pounding like there was an active construction site taking place in your skull. Your bedroom was dark, and the world outside your window was also dark. The sound of your phone ringing drilled into your cranium, and you groaned as you felt around your mess of blankets and sheets for wherever that damned thing was—
“Hello?” You croaked into the receiver when you finally grabbed ahold of your phone.
There was a pause on the other end, and you were about to ask who it was when they responded. “Oh my god. You're sick.”
Your heart leapt into your throat at the sound of your best friend's voice and you shoved your face into the pillow. “I'm not sick.”
“Yn, sweetheart, you literally have the sexy sick voice.”
“You think I'm sexy?” You asked in a drowsy, unwell daze. “But anyways, I'm not—” You lifted your face into your elbow in time to practically hack out your lungs. You groaned. “Okay, maybe I am sick.”
Could things get any worse?
You could hear the frown in his voice. “You sound like my worst nightmare.”
“Am I sexy or your worst nightmare? You need to pick an adjective.” You whimpered as you struggled to pull yourself up into a sitting position.
“At least I know it did nothing to that attitude of yours,” he laughed. He sobered for a moment when he heard you groan as the blood rushed to your head. “Hey, do you have meds with you? I can order some and have them there in half an hour.”
You waved him off, even though he wouldn't be able to see. “No, it's okay. I should have taken an ibuprofen before I crashed. I'm sure we've got extra Nyquil around here somewhere…”
You attempted to stand up, a swear falling from your mouth as the vertigo hit you and sent you tumbling back down onto the edge of the bed.
“Yn, I'm sending you medicine—and dinner. That one bistro near your apartment is still open, right? I'll let Trinity know that deliveries are on the—Yn?”
You lifted your head and broke out of your return to unconsciousness. “Hm? Sorry… I did not hear anything you just said.” You rubbed your hand down your face and scooped your phone up to make your way out of your room. You somehow made it to the door, and you leaned against the doorjamb as you pushed out into the dark hallway. “You don't have to send anything, Yun. Trinity's studying for her law school finals, so I don't wanna bother her. Plus…”
You opened up the medicine cabinet in the bathroom and bit back a sigh of disappointment. No cold medicine. There was pain medication, at least, so that should hopefully help you fall asleep again.
At your lack of words, Yunho asked, “No medicine?”
“No, I have some medicine,” you countered. “Just—not the right ones.” Before you could swallow any pills, you hacked out another lung into your elbow; you swore your coughs were sounding worse and worse.
“You know what? I'm flying home—”
You slammed the pill bottle on the bathroom counter. “Don't—what? Yunho, do not fly home. It's literally just a little—” You coughed, “—cold. You have another show in two days. If you show up on my doorstep, I'm not opening the door.”
From the silence on his end, you knew he wasn't in total agreement with you. Maybe the bottle slamming was a little much, but his statement had surprised you. It didn't make sense for him to drop everything for you when you were experiencing something so trivial as a cold.
Not unkindly, you said to him, “I appreciate the concern, but you have bigger things to worry about and care about.”
“You will always be the most important thing I care about.”
His admission was so sincere that your heart gave a violent palpitation in your chest. You struggled to swallow, and it wasn't just because your throat was sore. “And I feel the same way about you,” you murmured, “but I can take care of myself, okay? I'll be back to normal in no time.”
You heard a sigh from his end. “I know; you're right. I just… wish I was there with you right now.”
You could understand that—it was how you felt. But some things couldn't be helped, and Yunho needed to be where he was and you needed to be where you were. You could hold down the fort while he was gone taking over the world by storm.
You closed the bathroom door to give an extra barrier between your voice and where Trinity was studying in her room. After knocking back a couple painkillers, you seated yourself on the floor with your back against the bathtub and your knees pulled up to your chest. “You know what's kind of ironic?” You coughed into your elbow and wrestled down another one bubbling up in your throat. You shouldn't have been speaking so much, but you could deal with the repercussions later. “I think I freaked out when you said you were going to fly home, not just because that's insane, but also because I was going to surprise you by flying out to your show in a couple days.”
He sucked in a breath. “You were gonna come surprise me?”
“Yeah,” you muttered, swiping at your nose and tucking your chin to your knees. Then you had to go and screw it all up, and you couldn't even get your money back. You pretty much accepted that you weren't going to be better by the time the day rolled around, especially not for travel. “I'm sorry I couldn't come see you.”
“No, don't be sorry!” He cooed. “I'm—I’m really sorry you're sick and I'm sad you couldn't make it, but… but think of it this way, hm? As soon as you get better, I'll fly you out to whatever city I'm in and we can hang out and you can come to the concert. All you have to do is get better for me.”
You didn't know if your schedule would allow after this setback, but you were going to remain optimistic. With a small glimmer of hope peering through your chest, you replied, “Okay.”
“Okay,” he said, and you could hear the fond smile in his voice.
“By the way,” you began, and had to clear your throat from how congested it was getting. Maybe some hot tea would do you good. You clambered to your feet to get out of this bathroom and do just that. “Was there a reason you called originally or was it just to say hi?”
A beat of hesitation passed between your question and his answer. “Ah…” There was a wince in his voice, “I, uhm, called because I wanted to know if you'd seen something online, but obviously you haven't 'cause you were asleep, but…”
Seen something online? Your movements with your electric kettle paused. Had someone posted something about Yunho? “What is it, Yun?” Who's ass did you need to beat?
“Seonghwa hyung found out that someone leaked the hidden track online a few hours ago.”
You leaned your cheek against your palm, eyebrows knitting together. “Shit, dude. I'm so sorry,” you said with a frown. That meant some rando on the internet had hacked into someone's files and leaked the song.
A sharp exhale from Yunho's end. “Yeah, I dunno. We're working on getting it taken down right now, but in the event it can't be done soon enough, I think I'm just gonna release the deluxe version in a couple hours.”
It seemed by his response that it wasn't the hacking that was his primary concern. Leaked, unreleased songs happened to every major artist in the industry, and it had most definitely happened to Yunho before this. But this time… this time felt different. You knew how hesitant he was to release this, and having the track get released to the public on terms that weren't his? Well, that just wasn't fair.
“You don't,” you said softly, reaching for a mug in the top cabinet to plop your tea bag into, “have to release it officially right now. You can still wait until you're comfortable.”
You heard sounds of shuffling on his end, followed by the sound of a door opening. You thought you heard Yeosang's voice as he murmured something to Yunho. The exchange was swift, but it reminded you that your time with your best friend here was limited.
“Do you need to go?” You asked, trying to cover up your hope that he didn't have to with nonchalance.
He hummed. “It's okay, I have a few minutes left. They want me to 'okay’ a couple things out on set, but that can wait. Uhm… as for what you said about releasing it—I,” he sighed, “I think this was the push I needed to finally drop it, y'know? I think either way I was going to be scared for—for people to hear it—for you to hear it. But uhm… yeah. That's all I wanted to say. I think it'll probably be released whenever you wake up.”
You poured the hot water of your tea bag, setting the kettle down gently. Letting the steam rise up to help clear your congestion, you could finally think a little clearer now. “I'm sorry this didn't happen on your terms.”
“I appreciate that. I hope you like the song—I… I really hope you like the song.”
A smile tugged at the corners of your lips. “I'm going to like the song, rockstar. You have nothing to worry about, I promise.”
He let out a small laugh and the sound of his happiness, however big or small, made your chest feel heavy. “I’ve missed you so much,” he rasped out. “So much.”
You pressed your forehead to your fist, willing the prickling feeling of tears at bay. “I wish I was there—I’ve wished I was there with you the moment you left. But I'm so, so proud of you. I know I've said this before, but you belong on that stage, Yunho. I'll be there… I'm always there in spirit.”
“You can't say that and expect me not to fly my ass home right now.”
You sputtered out a laugh, which was probably a bad idea, because it led to an utter disaster of a coughing fit. When you finally managed to get a reign on things, you picked up your mug of tea and took a couple ginger sips. It was still piping hot, but whatever scalding temperature it was at somehow soothed your throat and your head.
You set the cup down. “Again, I'll be there in no time, I promise.”
“You swear on your life?”
You sighed, but you pressed your lips into a smile. “I swear on my life.”
Yunho's departure from this call was imminent, and so you made further promises to get plenty of rest and to take care of yourself. You only did so when he promised to do the same for himself. Just after you both hung up, you received a text message from him: Stay up for five more minutes!! The delivery's almost there.
You huffed out a rough-sounding laugh, and bit your tongue around a smile. Of course he had still ordered you stuff. You shook your head to settle on one of the kitchen stools to nurse your tea and wait for the delivery to get here.
When the driver was safely out of bounds of your door, you poked your head out into the hallway to grab the paper bags seated on your doorstep. You had only expected medicine and maybe dinner, but not only were there cold medicines, orange juice, and hot soup from the bistro down the street, but there was a bouquet of flowers there, too.
Butterflies fluttered in your stomach as you pulled everything into the safety of your apartment. Damn Jeong Yunho and his gestures. It didn't mean anything—they were just Get Well Soon flowers, but why did you kind of wish they were more than that?
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The Youth album's fourteenth track entitled your space hit the charts at number two. By the time you woke up, still sick as hell, the track had been officially released for about eight hours. You rolled over in bed to guzzle down half a bottle of water and cold medicine, then grabbed your phone.
It seemed that social media blew up while you were asleep. The deluxe drop was trending under a couple different tags, and based on initial skims, you were happy to report that most had everything good to say about it.
Though, some of the commentary made you pause. He has to be seeing someone, said one user. Look at these lyrics. These could only be produced by a man in love.
You had to swipe out of the app at that point. Instead, you went over to yours, Yunho's, and Mingi's group chat together where Mingi and Yunho had waged a meme war while you were asleep after Mingi wished you a “Get Better Soon” message. You sent back your own meme in response and opened your music streaming app to find track fourteen.
The boys would probably all be asleep by now, so they wouldn't respond any time soon.
You found your space exactly where you thought it would be, at the very bottom of the deluxe album. You sat yourself up against your headboard, plugged your earbuds in, then hit play.
If only you knew how much it would rock your world.
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Hongjoong was never wrong about his hunches. It had been about a week and a half since you came down with an awful cold and couldn't make it to your intended surprise show, and slightly less than that since the deluxe album dropped. Even before the tour started, life was a whirlwind, but now that the tour was only ramping up further from this point, it had been nothing short of a total rush.
Different cities every week, at least two nights a city—all of it took a toll on both the staff and artist involved. Hongjoong's hunch, however, regarded the artist in particular as he watched said artist keep his smile up to say goodnight to the remainder of the stadium workers who lingered for cleanup. Yesterday was their last show date in this city, and today, Yunho and his team had come by to help load everything up for transport to their next destination. Tomorrow, they would fly out and be in the next city to begin preparing for the next round.
But as Yunho began making his way toward the exit where Hongjoong was waiting for him, it was impossible to miss the immediate exhaustion that flooded his features. He carded a hand through his hair as he checked his phone, then pocketed it in the back pocket of his pants.
“Hey,” Yunho nodded to Hongjoong as he met him at the exit and they both walked out into the chilly evening together. There was already a car waiting at the curb to take them back to their hotel—there was still so much that needed to be done before they left for the airport tomorrow.
“Hey,” he said back. “Everything okay?”
Yunho glanced over at him. “Huh? Oh, yeah. I'm fine; just tired. I think it's a good thing I started packing before we came here earlier,” he mused. For him to pack early? A miracle.
Hongjoong bobbed his head in understanding. “Yeah, I get that, but that's not really—you know you can be honest with me, right? I know this has all been… a lot.” And Hongjoong would understand; he had been in the public eye for so long now, and all of that could be so incredibly draining. From catering to fans and journalists and sponsors, it could be difficult finding himself amongst all that mess.
Plus, Yunho had the added bit of being away from home for a very long time. From what Hongjoong understood, Yunho only used to tour relatively close to home, and when it was farther, it was during his school breaks. He also knew that you were an integral part of Yunho's sanity, and that even before he reached this level of fame, you were his rock, his anchor, his ground control.
Being away from you for so long was beginning to show. When Hongjoong brought it up offhandedly to Mingi, Mingi was swift to agree.
“I—” Yunho began as he slipped into the passenger seat and Hongjoong into the back of the car. He murmured a soft greeting to the driver before strapping himself in with a seatbelt. “—it definitely has been hard,” he admitted with a sigh. “I don't know, Joong. You know that rush you get while onstage, but it just comes crashing down a couple hours later? Like the adrenaline leaves you all at once and all you crave for is home?”
Hongjoong pursed his lips, watching Yunho lean the side of his head against the window as he watched the world pass by. “Yeah, I do,” he said quietly. “The moments between all the rush and excitement, you're no longer distracted from how much it all is.”
A nod. “Yeah.”
“You miss her?” It was less of a question and more so a statement. Hongjoong's hunches were never incorrect. It was both a blessing and a curse.
Yunho's quiet was answer enough.
Hongjoong played around with the back of his phone case. He knew you had listened to the song—he’d asked Yunho and you'd texted Hongjoong, too. Yunho reported that you gushed about the song and affirmed him in all his choices and lyricism as always, but he was certain that you didn't get it. But when you had run to Hongjoong questioning your own feelings and if Yunho had been scared to tell you if he was in love with someone, Hongjoong could confidently say that you did get it, just not one hundred percent.
There was still miscommunication in the message, but he knew that was only something that the two of you could sort out.
“Have you guys talked since last week?”
“Yeah, we have. She's been…” He pushed a breath out of his mouth, “... She's been working her ass off trying to make up for the amount of time she was sick. I don't even know how she isn't getting sick again. I mean—all the shit she has to weather through—I wish I could help.”
And he couldn't, not like how he wanted to, not from so far away. Maybe that was what was eating him up inside the most, besides the fact he believed his feelings to be unrequited.
The car pulled up to the back entrance of the hotel Yunho and his team were staying at for the time being. The two of them thanked the driver on their way out, and they were swiftly greeted by employees coming out of the back for their breaks.
When they reached the warmth of their hotel floor's hallway, Yunho said to Hongjoong, “I miss her so much.” He shoved his hands into the pockets of his Youth World Tour hoodie, eyes lined in silver. “I worry about her so much, too. I'm sure she worries just as much about me and I know that she's more than capable about taking care of herself—’cause god, she was the one who kept me afloat all these years, and I—”
I love her.
He slapped his key card against the reader and shoved into his hotel room with Hongjoong trailing after with a sympathetic frown on his face.
“It just feels wrong sometimes when I can't be with her. Is that crazy?”
Hongjoong settled a warm hand on Yunho's shoulder as the latter sat down on the edge of his bed. “It's not crazy,” he said. He'd felt like that about a person, once upon a time. After everything Hongjoong had gone through with his last relationship, one might think he didn't believe in love, but he was still clawing for it. He wanted something that he could see manifesting between you and Yunho. He wanted to help you reach that.
He sighed and sat down next to him. “It's completely valid to feel this way, y'know? She's been a huge part of your life and your passions, and for you to see all this without her seems incomplete.”
Yunho nodded. “Yeah.”
“You can go home whenever you want, you realize that?” Hongjoong asked. “We have time built into each week to give you rest days, man. We can make that work.” It might be a little tiring for so much travel, but one trip back wouldn't hurt, especially when it could help his mental state more than simply powering through.
“I know,” he replied. “I don't… I just feel like I want her to see that I can do this, that she didn't put her trust and energy into someone who would fall so fast—”
“Do you seriously believe she would think about you that way?”
Yunho's expression shuddered, and he let out a shaky breath as he shook his head.
Hongjoong arched his brow. “Exactly. She would never fault you for needing a break. Being human is not a sign of weakness, Yunho. She's your best friend—I think she has more forgiveness and compassion for you than that.”
Yunho swallowed. Of course what Hongjoong said was right. You wouldn't look at him any different if he needed a break; it was just a thing about being kinder to himself. But sometimes it was hard to put that into perspective, and perhaps he just needed someone to do that for him.
With no good choice made without a decent night of sleep, Hongjoong bid Yunho goodnight.
As soon as Hongjoong slipped out of his friend's room, he sighed and mentally calculated what time it would be where you were. You should have been awake.
And awake, you definitely were.
You would be lying if you said you hadn't been listening to the song your space on repeat for the past week and a half. Even as you sat in one of the campus dining halls doing work and eating your crappy sandwich for lunch, your headphones were spilling with your best friend's gorgeous croons.
You questioned everything at the same time. You'd figured out two days after you first heard it that you were in love with your best friend.
The lyrics had resonated with you, and you had come to the startling conclusion that you felt the song's meaning toward Yunho.
All you could do since was freak the fuck out and tell Yunho that the song was incredible. You didn't know who the song was for or about, but you knew it was important to him because of how scared he was to release it. Had he been scared to tell you he was in love with someone? Why?
Sometimes you found yourself tearing apart the lyrics like a rabid trash panda.
I couldn't ever leave you behind They couldn't ever take me away Baby, if I could pick a heaven on Earth It would be anywhere in your space.
You broke away from your work and sandwich to the sound of a text notification. Suddenly remembering how loud your vibration ringer was, you silenced it, then opened up Hongjoong's message: I know you're probably moping and eating a shitty sandwich—what. You glanced down at said shitty sandwich that sat in its equally sad plastic container. How did he know…? —and he's not doing well either. He's miserable, dude.
Everything slowed for you, and it was no longer about your so-called epiphany. You felt your entire body and mood drop at the news. You'd seen social media posts commenting on Yunho's stage presence and brightness never fading, but there were always the one or two who noted something along the lines of him seeming too tired or that perhaps he didn't have enough stamina for this.
The latter comments made your blood pressure spike, but there was, unfortunately, some truth to it. You just didn't think it was this bad.
You pressed the backs of your knuckles against your eyes. You hadn't been doing the best, clearly, and you knew that it was largely because you missed him. Being away from someone you considered home for so long meant that you were bound to get homesick.
You didn't know what to do. There was so much work to be done, and you had just caught up. On top of that, you were short a few hundred dollars from the last time you tried to fly out.
Another message buzzed in from Hongjoong: I think you guys really need to talk.
The organ in your chest rattled around in its cage; it longed to be with its partner. You were starting to understand that now.
The song playing in your ear was slowly petering out, and all you could hear was his voice.
And I've kinda been wanting to ask if we can Skip the 'why’ and get to the 'our’ Because baby, I love your space But I love ours more.
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Yunho had not flown home that week. Some emergencies had sprung up as soon as they landed in their new city, and all bets were off to be able to go home. All that he could do was buckle down and get comfortable. Even so, he knew how to make the best out of a situation.
As he stood at the very center of the main stage, he held a hand up to shield his eyes from the bright spotlights shining down on him now.
“Is that better?” Hongjoong's voice echoed throughout the near-empty stadium.
From one of the balconies, Jongho cupped his hands up around his mouth to scream at the top of his lungs, “LOOKS GOOD, HYUNG!”
“Jongho,” Yunho chuckled into his microphone, “did someone not get you a headset, bro?”
A beat passed, and then, “NO.”
Mildly amused laughter cropped up around the stadium in reaction to the youngest's troubles. It was little moments like these where Yunho could forget for one second just how tiring all of this amounted to become. His smile was genuine, and his tongue darted out to trace his teeth—
“Jeong Yunho, put your damn tongue away.”
Yunho's eyes went as wide as saucers, his expression morphing into something like childlike surprise as he immediately retracted his tongue into his mouth. But in the split second it took his brain to process the words that had been said, he also recognized the voice who'd said them. From the big screen, any one of the staff members or you could see the way his face stretched into the widest grin possible, his eyes lighting up like spotlights.
He lifted the mic in his hand up to his lips as he tilted his eyes up to the sound and lighting box far up in the stands. From where he was onstage, he could just make out the shape of you in the box next to Hongjoong—the sneaky bastard. “Ln Yn, get your ass down here right now,” he said, hardly able to contain the excitement in his voice.
You didn't need to be told twice.
You raced down the stadium steps from the box, your legs carrying you as fast as humanly possible without falling. Yunho leapt off the stage and left his microphone behind to meet you in the middle.
Somewhere between the pit and mezzanine, you flew into his arms and he caught you, spinning you around. The glee on both of your faces was enough to make everyone stop and appreciate the tangible love before them. Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes and you pursed your lips to subdue them. You squeezed him as tight as you possibly could; his arms held you firmly around your waist, head tucked into the joint between your neck and shoulder.
“You're here,” he croaked with tears in his voice now. You heard him sniffle, and only held him tighter. He felt the added strength and let out a sob. “I missed you so much.”
Oh, for fuck's sake—you started bawling like a baby. “I—” you sucked in a breath, “—I heard—so I booked a flight—”
This only caused his body to tremble harder. “Oh god… Yn… I…”
You sniffled and brushed your hand over the back of his head in an attempt to get both of you to calm down. “Hey, don't worry about it, okay? It doesn't matter; you know I'd drop everything for you.” When his only response was to press his wet eyes against the heat of your neck, you blinked away your tears. “Plus, I missed you, too, rockstar.”
Yunho let out a watery laugh, gently setting you down onto solid ground. You both looked like a hot mess and a half: snot dripping out of your noses, eyes red and drowned in salty tears. The adrenaline rush from the surprise had trickled out of your system, but your heartbeat continued to rattle around in your chest with reckless abandon. His messy, damp hair; the wobbly shine in his dark brown irises; the way he smiled at you with that something on his face… he was everything to you.
“Glad to know the feeling's mutual,” he said, nudging you with his elbow, then pawing at his eyes to wipe the tears away.
“Good to see you, Yn!” San piped up from the stage with his microphone. He had picked up Yunho's microphone from where he'd abandoned it to come meet you.
You laughed, lifting a hand up in a wave. “Hey, San! Hi everyone!”
Chimes of greetings from all the other boys and staff members cropped up from all around the arena.
Yunho brushed a hand through his hair and wrapped an arm around your shoulders. “Did all you fuckers know about this?”
Mingi was perched on the ledge of the stage. His grin seemed to be the widest after watching your reunion. He tugged the microphone attached to his earpiece closer to his mouth. “Don't tell us you're not grateful now.”
“Nah, I'm just surprised Wooyoung was able to keep his mouth shut.”
Wooyoung didn't need a microphone to let you all know of his offense. You could hear his squawk of disapproval all the way from where you stood—crazy how acoustics worked.
Yunho heard your laugh from beside him, and he glanced over at you to catch the fond look on your face. He hadn't stopped smiling for the past five minutes, and it didn't matter how much his cheeks hurt. You were here; that was all that mattered.
“This place is—” you marveled as the two of you began walking down the stairs together toward the stage. The backs of your hands brushed against one another, breaths away from touching, from lacing, from being together. “—huge. It's so much more—” You felt your lip wobble again, “I don't even know why I'm getting emotional. It's all you dreamed of as a kid, wasn't it?”
The tears pricked at the edges of his eyes again, and the two of you looked back at each other with equally wet eyes and bright smiles. “Yeah,” he nodded, swiping at his eyes.
“You deserve it.”
“All thanks to you,” he said with a sniffle, hugging you to him again. You were solid and real beneath his fingertips—he was so happy you were here. This was where you belonged; none of this felt right without you.
When you finally reached the bottom of the pit, Yunho had to run back up to the stage, and you went through the aisles until you found your perfect seat. It wasn't long before Mingi bounded up the steps to come join you. He brought you in for a long awaited hug of his own.
“What's good, Yn?” He asked with a soft chuckle as he pulled away and settled in the seat to your left.
Just ahead, Yunho appeared onstage with his microphone in hand, and the two of you lifted your hands in sync to wave to your best friend.
You adjusted your bag in your lap, and clasped a hand on Mingi's shoulder. “This is surreal. Does it feel surreal?”
Mingi's lips pulled into a smile as nostalgia made his vision cloudy. “It does, every single time. I'm glad you're finally here—we’re all very happy that you're here now.”
You bumped your head against his shoulder and let it rest there for a moment, and his hand came up to gently pat your head to tell you he understood. You didn't need to say anything.
For the next hour and a half, you and Mingi got to watch Yunho and everyone else run through the last of the day's lighting checks. Periodically, someone else from Yunho's personal team would come and sit with the two of you, then leave quickly when they had something else on their to-do list.
At last, when the session wrapped up and everyone was sent to go home for an early night, you rushed down to meet with Yunho again.
He waited for you to be at his side before leading you down toward backstage. “There's a couple things I need to grab in my dressing room before we can head back to the hotel.” A thought suddenly interrupted his thoughts and his eyes widened. “Do you have accommodations? Please tell me you do.”
“Don't worry—I promise I'm not sleeping on the streets,” you teased. You'd figured all of that out pretty last minute with Hongjoong and Mingi's help.
Yunho nodded, a smile coming to his face. “Okay, good. I was gonna offer my room and I could sleep on the pullout couch.”
The thought of sleeping in the same room as him made your skin warm, and if you hadn't realized your feelings for him before, you would be confused as to why you were so flustered at the thought now. It wouldn't be the first time you had a sleepover. But this would be… different. Oh lord.
The backstage hallways were scarce and dimly lit in order to save energy, but it was enough to guide you and Yunho's way to the star dressing room. You swallowed as you reached the door—the facade plastered with a pretty, gold star with his name on it—and followed him inside.
“Hey, Yun?” You asked him as you lingered by the door and he rushed around to grab his things. The room was decently spacious, and definitely larger than all the other ones from his past tours.
“Mhm?”
“Could we… talk about something?”
He glanced back over his shoulder as he threw things into his bag. “Yeah, ‘course.”
You toed at the polished ground, fingers twisting and wringing in front of you. “It’s about the song. The, uhm, the your space one.”
His movements paused. He looked up and connected gazes with you through the vanity mirror in front of him. Yunho cleared his throat and ducked his head to zip up his bag. “What—what about it?” He asked, shouldering his bag and meeting you back at the door.
He seemed unable to look you in the eyes directly now as he closed the door behind the both of you as you stepped out into the empty hallway.
“I just,” you stammered. Blood rushed up to your face and you could hear your heartbeat thundering in your ears. “I needed to know—I didn’t need to know—it’s your life and your song, and you have every right to have feelings for someone without me knowing. And I think I’m asking this for selfish reasons, but… are you seeing someone?”
The question caught him off guard, his eyes blowing wide open. “Wh—no. No, I am not seeing anyone. Why do you ask?”
“The song—I know I shouldn’t be indulging in what people on the internet say, much less in the opinions of those who don’t even know you, but I couldn’t help but agree with them when they say the lyrics, the—the feeling of the song—you’re in love, and I—” Your breath caught in your throat as you choked on the words lodged there: And I am in love with you.
Yunho pushed an exhale out of his mouth and stepped toward you. So much shone in his eyes right then, and it didn’t matter how much light there was in this damn hallway, his eyes would always glitter like twin diamonds. “I am in love with someone. Yn, I’m in love with you,” he said. “I thought that the song would make it obvious, which is why I was so scared for you to hear it, but I realize now that this was just something I should have said outright.”
Your heart fluttered in your chest and it wasn’t from the nerves anymore. God, your knees felt like buckling from the force of the tenderness in his eyes alone. “You’re—you’re in love with me?”
“I am,” he nodded. He slowly reached for your hands and clasped them within his own. “I’ve been in love with you since that day you ran out of Science Olympiad practice to come to my audition; I’ve been in love with you from the moment you yelled at me for not being ambidextrous and I had beef jerky in my mouth—”
“I did not yell at you!”
He broke out into a cheeky, yet fond grin, his hand coming up to cup the side of your face with his hand. “I’ve been in love with you for so long that I can’t imagine what life was like before I was in love with you—and yes, you did yell, but you can yell at me as much as you like, and I would still be head-over-heels for you.”
Your lip curled in on itself at all of his words, at everything he was revealing to you now. You wished you had known—oh, god, you wish you had known. You didn’t know if things would have been different, but for some reason, you had a feeling that all paths might have led here nonetheless.
You squeezed his hand between your own now. “You’re everything to me, Jeong Yunho,” you rasped out, unable to put strength behind your voice for fear of all of the emotion about to spill out. “And I’m so stupid for taking so long to figure it all out, but I’m in love with you, too, and I’d be damned if I let another day pass without you knowing that.”
Something washed over him in that moment, and he laughed, leaning over to cup the back of your neck and rest his forehead against your own. It was ridiculous, the fact that both of you were giggling and smiling at such a precipice of emotion, but it felt right.
You could feel the warmth of his breath against your lips as he murmured, “Fuck, I wanna kiss you so bad.”
“Then come kiss me, rockstar,” you said, looping your arms around his neck. You drew him down to your mouth and felt his body mold against your own. Every crevice and curve slotted so perfectly with one another, and the heavy longing in your chest slowly eased.
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“You guys have been incredible for me tonight—” Yunho beamed as he walked toward the front, center stage and looped the electric guitar strap over his head to the sound of the roaring crowd, “—so I've got a little surprise for you.”
One of the staff members had set out a mic stand and bottle water for him, and he approached both items to fit the microphone into place. Tonight was the Friday night concert being held in this city, and the energy was dialed to one thousand in all the best ways.
He held onto the microphone with one hand. “This song is dedicated to—written for—my best friend in the world, the love of my life, my stargirl. I'm sure you know it—you crazies debuted it at number two on the charts—this is your space.”
His smile tugged up wider at the reaction he received. If anyone in the crowd didn't know the song, they were about to fall in love.
Yunho laughed, shaking his head, as he began checking to make sure his guitar was tuned with practiced, nimble fingers. “Oh, by the way—” he pointed up at the accessory he wore, the crocheted headband holding his hair up and out of his face, with a row of stars across its band, “—she made this for me. Isn't it cute?”
The stadium echoed in choruses of “aw” and cheers.
He could only duck his head with a smile, eyes twinkling with fondness and tenderness at the thought of you. You were in the crowd, but you could be up here with him in spirit. “Yeah, that was me, too.”
After you and Yunho left the stadium yesterday, hands intertwined and a new page in your relationship turned, you’d gone back to his hotel to share a restful evening in one another’s presences. You revealed later that night that you spent the four or five days you were bedridden practicing your crocheting skills until you were able to make him a headband. A row of three stars studded the length of it—stars for your rockstar.
Yunho struck his fingers down the strings of his guitar with a gentle rocking motion from his opposite hand to let the sound reverberate around the stadium. The crowd cried in love as his soulful, beautiful voice filled their ears with love of his own. And as his fans filed out of the stadium for the night and headed home, Yunho could finally return to his home. Because you were here now… no matter how far, no matter the distance, the two of you would always find a way to be in the other's space.
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a/n: pls remember to reblog, comment, and send asks if you enjoyed!
atz m.list
permanent taglist: @flwoie @vatterie @seomisaho @hqrana @ja4hyvn @outrologist @rikizm @tinkerbell460 @meosjinn @hyunjaespresent-deobi @stayarmytinyzenmoa-l @floatingpluto @gyulfriend @jaehunnyy @shakalakaboomboo @soonyoungblr @justanotherkpopstanlol @kangfication @pxppxrminty @fluorescentloves @haechansbbg @jaerisdiction @super-btstrash-posts @jundundun @http-gyu @mvvnsseul @mars101 @kflixnet
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tinyluminaryzombie · 3 months
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Non Exhaustive Jily Recs: Hogwarts Years
Pre-Jily
Evergreen and Pine by @tinyluminaryzombie - 1K words
Sirius and Lily friendship while they’re both pining
Full disclosure I wrote this 🙈
Lily Evans is stuck in a closet with Sirius. All Sirius wants to talk about is exactly what she's trying not to think about: James Potter. Or: A seven minutes in heaven that's more like seven minutes of sweet sweet interegation ft. Lily and Sirius.
The Dog You Feed by @january3693 - 100K words (25 chapters)
Lily getting close with the Marauders. Lily and Sirius friendship. Pre Jily and Wolfstar. TW abuse (Sirius)
Beautifully written and love how it shows the evolution of Lily’s friendships.
When Sirius ran away from home he went to live with the Potters, but before he made it there he wound up lost, alone, and hurt in Muggle London. With James out of the country, Peter stuck at home, and Remus trapped by the full moon, it’s Lily Evans (who hates his guts) that Sirius is forced to turn to for shelter and more advice than he could have bargained for.
Jily Get Together
A Dog in Stag’s Clothing by @lynxindisguise - 4.8K words
Great James and Sirius prank. Jily and Wolfstar get together
So funny and sweet and cute!
In which Lily is bad at feelings, Remus loses all powers of observation, James is clueless, and Sirius has to do some waiting.
Erasmus Lovegoods’s Guide to Brewing Love Potions by @thelighthousestale - 5.3K words
Love potions, humor, and love confessions
Mixes in the potion instructions in a really cool way and is such a fun read!
How an accidental explosion in NEWT-level potions finally forced Lily and James to confront their feelings.
Through the Rain by @bookeatingbean - 6K words
Vignettes of Jily at Hogwarts
Such a well rounded and beautiful story!!
James and Lily's first kiss, and the story behind it. There's some fluff, some character study, and some good old fashioned angst.
Accidental Magic by @missgryffin - 9K words
Jealous Lily, love confessions, first kiss, first time
Hot hot hot hot hot hot!!!!!!!!
What else is there to do after confessing feelings in the middle of the night than spend a lazy Saturday in bed?
i would drink a case of you, darling by treacherous_talks - 13.4K words
Pining Lily while she’s friends with James plus seventh year / first war angst
Such a good how did Lily and James go from friends to more fic!
James is like seventy-ish percent certain that Evans is trying to make a move on him. But that thirty-ish percent doubt isn’t worth the risk of ruining the friendship they’ve worked so incredibly hard to develop. So he spends his days in blatantly enforced ignorance. Lily doesn’t know how much more obvious she can be. There’s only so much fluttering eyelashes and touching-his-arm-accidentally she can do. She can practically feel her brain cells dying every time she twists her hair around her finger. So she finally accepts that Potter won’t make the first move, and takes it upon herself do so. Sirius is just here to enjoy the fireworks. (And outside Hogwarts, the world grows ever darker.)
As If By Magic by @annabtg - 34K words
Seventh year Jily
Awesome multi chapter with so much pining!
Lily Evans, Head Girl, is starting her seventh year at Hogwarts. Alongside her, Head Boy James Potter, who has always had a crush on her yet has given up all hope of winning her over. But between working together, sharing fun times with friends and getting through the darker moments that come with living in an era of war, things between them are bound to change...
New Year by scaredofclouds - 92K words (14 chapters)
One year in life of Jily + all the Jily feels.
It’s on fanfiction.net but i love this fic so much and it’s definitely worth venturing from ao3!
Lily Evans is planning on seeing the New Year in alone, then just getting through the rest of the year with as few problems as possible. Unfortunately for Lily Evans, very little in her life is that simple. Still, what difference can a year make? 1977 through the eyes of L & J.
Established Jily
Fireside Chats by @kay-elle-cee - 1.7K words
Lily and Sirius friendship. Slight angst + family drama.
So so good and I love their friendship!
“He’s still upset, then?” “Evans,” Sirius starts, and she can hear the disbelief in his voice. “You uninvited him to Christmas with your family. Yeah, he’s still upset.”
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syoddeye · 4 months
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sy's reading recs
hi. i read a lot of fanfiction for COD and i love spreadsheets. i try to track my reads, and thought i'd make two reading rec lists. you are currently viewing the non-darkfic list. i've included blurbs from yours truly. the blurbs are short because there are a LOT of recs below the cut. now then.
beyond the read more, you are responsible for reading tags, warnings, and summaries.
pairings are indicated where applicable, although these may change or may not be established yet.
similarly fic ratings may change! again, it's your responsibility to read tags and warnings.
i've checked all the links, but if they're broken, i blame tumblr. there's enough info to find the fic if need be.
do not harass authors with "next part when" bullshit. it's tacky and i hate you.
previous lists: one, two | banner by @/cafekitsune
gaz x reader
Lavender Skies by @yeyinde
Late to the party but gd if you haven't read this, put it at the top of your list. Kebabs, back-up shoes, the feeling of someone knowing you, the pain and sublimity of being in your late 20s...Chef's kiss.
childfree!reader thoughts by @pfhwrittes
Tooth-rottingly sweet bit about finding someone with the same priorities and not being made to feel bad about it. Love it when the boys match-make a lil bit.
The Gym by @secretsynthetic
Very cute piece about meeting trainer!Gaz at a workout class. Kudos to Reader for making it through the class because I would've had to bail if Gaz perceived me for half a second. Love how observant and sweet he is in this.
Pluto by @groguspicklejar
Late to yet another party, but I got sucked in by the premise: 'vampire!Gaz is smitten with a girl who has no desire to be around his kind'. I love how the relationship progresses, the later chapters had me gigglin'. Except for that last chap. I got GOT.
ghost x reader
child free @391780
I tag it from time to time but one of my favorite things to see in fanfic is the love and intimacy of caring for someone. And that's what this is. Among my favorite oneshots I've seen shared in this fandom.
Roommate Simon by @tacticalgirlboss
Roommate Simon could go in so many directions, but I love this particular take. The slow evolution of the relationship from roommate to something else. Made me feel mushy as hell by the end.
Through Me (The Flood) by @peachesofteal
Another drop everything to read fic. Seeing Simon embrace a role he was not expecting to ever fulfill is both heartbreaking and heartwarming at the same time. Me with every installment.
soap x reader
mic work by @glossysoap
I have four words for you: Erotic audio artist Soap. Soap's hard at work (🥁), imagining best friend!Reader as the subject of his latest scripts. He is COMMITTED to his job. submissive Soap by @doeidawn
Dizzying. Schedule time to take a lap after reader. Something about that man begging. It needs to be studied and somehow distilled. Into what? I don't know, don't ask me, I can't think straight after re-reading this. bad reservation by @the-californicationist
I think I summed up my reaction to this in my tags: "reader's getting that michelin star dick". A prompt filled by Cali that made me giggle furiously for a smooth ten minutes after reading.
price x reader
Storm Chaser by @/the-californicationist
Save me, biker!Price...save me... Caution: You may need to lie down after reading. Truthfully, I'm terrified of motorcycles. But I would reconsider for this Price.
A Case of You by @alittleposhtoad
One of my favorite new series. A zombie apocalypse where you're hiding out on a remote island in Canada, and who finds you? Just my favorite man. Really enjoy the pieces of worldbuilding and seeing Price interact with what's left of Reader's community.
Words Like Violence by @deadbranch
BodyguardxBodyguard. Two professionals wanting one another and their jobs kind of getting in the way. Suits. Gear. Gloves. Pure catnip. An appearance from Simon that made me laugh, re-read, then rub my hands together like a raccoon.
141 x reader and other pairings
GhostGaz Week by @dragonnarrative-writes - gaz x ghost
Dragon knocked it out of the park on GhostGaz week. I love all of them, but 'afraid of the dark' and 'sweet talk' are two of my favorites.
An Offer You Won't Refuse by @lovifie - gaz x price
You know that clip of Kylo Ren screaming more? That's me, because this makes me want more GazPrice in my life. Delectable. Mean!Price and Gaz calling in a victory.
SCP!141 by @ghouljams - gen tf 141
Incredibly fun and freaky AU that I think has half of my lil circle of friends on here willing to overlook their personal safety to get at SCP-141....I may or may not be among them.
Fancy by @swordsandholly - 141 x reader
Subtle delicious morsels of worldbuilding and bleak, dystopian vibes with vampires. That should be enough to get you started. Had me at the Reba reference.
Tradie 141 by @/pfhwrittes - mix
The way I would be quickly banned from any worksite if they were real. The Tradie!verse is very, very important to me and I eat up every piece that comes out of P's big brain.
Autumn Embers by @/dragonnarrative-writes - 141 x reader
One of the most nuanced takes on the omegaverse paired with some of the hottest smut. The meta is a good place to start, imho, as it underpins the fic and bolsters the plot.
Mission Shenanigans by @kyletogaz - gazsoap x reader
Here's a taste: “You’ve got your tongue shoved in my pussy and you expect for me to be quiet?” Got it? Scurry on over for the oneshot that made me bluescreen at the end.
Service Dog Johnny by @void-my-warranty - ghoap x reader
Interesting spin on Ghoap x Reader that shows a level of intimacy between Simon x Reader (and by extension, Ghoap x Reader), that goes beyond the sex. Yes, the smut is fantastic, but the relationship dynamic hooked me.
Cool Girl x @/peachesofteal - ghoap x reader
As a former 'Cool Girl', reading this is both therapeutic and painful, and fuck me if I don't run to read every update. You will cry, laugh, tear your hair out, and enjoy it.
Fuck-ass mohawk by @sentientcave - ghoap x reader
Reader finally saying what I'm thinking. Fuck-ass mohawk. Hilarious piece. I definitely didn't finish this and think "oh dang I want Reader to be mean to ME". 👀
"romance" in the age of technology by @/pfhwrittes - soap x gaz
Let it be known that Johnny MacTavish is a giver. A good friend. So thoughtful of others. So while Gaz recovers from top surgery, obviously our Scottish saint takes it upon himself (literally?) to cheer him up. Funny and WHEW.
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temis-de-leon · 5 months
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Day 21 - Comforting while crying kiss
Characters: Solomon x fem!MC
25 kisses challenge Masterlist
Main Masterlist
CW: college anxiety, memories about bad friends, worried Solomon, established relationship
A/N: not the most relatable because I made it as a continuation for this, but I hope you enjoy it nonetheless <3
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Studying in the human real again wasn’t something she ever thought would become a reality, especially when she didn’t want to do it at all, but she should’ve learnt long ago that no thing in life was impossible.
Her best friends, if not her only friends, were demons and angels; she was dating King Solomon the Wise. Going back to college should not feel that weird.
And yet.
There she was, sitting on her ankles in a hidden corner under the staircase of the main entrance. The heat of June burned her hair and made her cupid’s bow sweat, but it was the stress of finals what made her feel feverish. Her backpack laid pathetically near her, the zipper opened enough to let her see some crumpled papers full of scribbles and a couple of pens with no caps.
It was draining. Sitting alone at the table, remembering the presence of those who left her behind laughing at her jokes and helping her study, acting like true friends when God knows what they were saying behind her back. The tiles of the floor and the graffiti on the benches remained the same, but the walls were different and the buildings had gone through some serious renovations. What hurt her the most, surprisingly, was the sight of the brand new cafeteria, which now looked like a hospital ward.
MC’s lips trembled at the thought of change and evolution, of coming so far just to return to the same place that made her feel so lonely.
First periods on Mondays, back when she was eighteen, were hectic. The hallways were cold and the elevator was always occupied because a blind guy with his guide dog had to go to the last floor and whoever decided to be stubborn and wait for the elevator to be free was always late to class. One of the coffee machines forever remained out of service and the other one only had one flavour worth paying: hazelnut. MC didn’t even like coffee and still bought a couple of those every now and then.
The blind guy already graduated, she supposed. Both coffee machines worked and they even had other vending machines filling the empty spaces of the hallways. Warm hallways, that is. The Styrofoam cups didn’t smell like hazelnut anymore, but rather something more generic and impersonal.
MC couldn’t recognize the scent and it made her mad. It made her cry. And the foolishness of the situation made her cry even harder.
Her weeping filled the corner she was hiding in and she felt incredibly grateful that the evening classes had already started, but not much time would pass until anyone inside would open the windows in search of any possible breeze.
Determined to not let the damn building see her cry more than necessary, MC grabbed her things and pitifully walked down the street, looking at the flowers with deep yearning like she too wished she was buried underground and left alone to absorb light and look pretty.
Fortunately for her mood, her phone vibrated in her pocket and showed a very familiar name. She tried to swallow tears and clear her voice before answering.
“Is everything okay, MC?”
She’d never fool him.
Solomon sounded extremely worried. The sheer surprise at his reaction made her stop in her tracks to wonder just how much he knew her. Before she could ponder about it too much, however, someone near her called her name.
There he was, sitting on the hood of a car that MC knew wasn’t his. He called her once more to urge her and, thankfully, by the time she reached him the crying had already stopped. Her skin felt sticky with sweat and fallen tears and she felt an incipient headache threatening to break her mind.
“Are you okay?”
“Yeah, yeah”
She forced herself to swallow, hating the blockage in her nose, and Solomon looked at her in pity, clearly wanting to console without going too far.
“You know you can trust me, right?”
His eyes turned sad and MC felt the familiar sting in the back of her throat. Although her first impulse was to continue denying her pain and leave the whole thing behind, she knew that if she didn’t ask her boyfriend, of all people, to take care of her, then the turmoil would become much worse.
“I do” she assured him, holding his hand in slow movements. He immediately held her back and her eyes watered again “I’m just really tired, you know?”
There, under the sun, where no one was there to see the scene, Solomon opened his arms and sighed when she rushed towards him. MC tried to ignore the tears staining his white coat, hugging him instead to hide from the rest of the world. There was a gentle pressure on top of her head, a soft kiss that made her shoulders relax and lean into him further.
“Do you want to go back home? Take a nap?”
MC didn’t know what home he was talking about, but she didn’t care. Without letting him go, she nodded against his chest and made herself comfortable. Home was wherever as long as he was there with her.
.
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Taglist: @ourfinalisation  @owlisbuffering  @chizukimp4  @ravenredwine @darkflowerav  @craftysclown @mehkers
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jpitha · 2 years
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I will never get tired of human children's ability to make friends with anything.
When the humans first came to our starbase, they asked if they could bring families. Thinking it would be one or two brave volunteers, we agreed. Originally this starbase was for deep space research, and such was staffed mostly with professionals and support staff.
Overnight, it had became a major meeting point and progenitor of Human/K'laxi relations.
Almost all of the humans came with their families! We had anticipated 100 humans, but more than 300 came in the first wave alone. We scrambled to make room for everyone, and with their help were able to expand the starbase to accommodate all the new people. What was a small research starbase became a huge, sprawling home for thousands of sapients and their embassies.
With families came along new challenges that we were not used to. Human parents raise their children themselves for almost 20 of their years. Once our children begin their formal education, they usually go off to creches and are raised communally. We still see and interact with our children, but they are much more independent than the human children are. Maybe it's a function of our own differing evolution?
We made the effort to have the humans integrate with us, as much as they wanted to or could. Dietary needs and gravity/pressure needs aside, our own children and their own children spend as much time together as possible. The humans even brought forward the idea of teaching them together. Today, Human and K'laxi children are taught in the same classrooms as much as possible, only splitting out in groups for species specific things. Eventually, even those were merged together and both sapients learn about the other as well as more academic studies.
At first, we were worried about how the human children would see the K'laxi children, whether they'd get along, how they would interact.
We needn't have worried.
Almost immediately the human children included the K'laxi children, invited them to play games and make art and be friends. They ceased to be "Human children" and "K'laxi children" and became just "kids".
The translators that the adults use are almost completely unheard of among the kids. Oh, they wear them when needed, or their parents insist, but the kids picked up on the other's language astonishingly quickly, and just as quickly built a patois of both languages. They revel in having their own ways of communicating, something to keep what they're doing separate from the adults.
As the generation of kids raised on the station grew, we noticed how integrated they became. They would stay together, be romantically intertwined together, live together, work together.
Having grown up together, the differences between them - while not completely erased - only served to reinforce the camaraderie that they felt being raised together. K'laxi would go on to serve on human ships, humans on K'laxi.
Today, our kids are still raised together, and now the parents of those kids are speaking the Human/K'laxi patois. It is evolving into its own language, being spoken on ships and at starbases across the galaxy. Other starbases have taken our model and expanded it, and communal living is now the norm, not the exception.
Here on our starbase, there is a Human and K'laxi couple who have just celebrated more than twenty five years together. I should know, I just kissed my (human)wife a good night before winding down after the party, and taking the time to write this.
Our two species are more interdependent on each other than ever before, growing and learning and thriving because of the other.
All because human children's ability to make friends with anything.
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buddierecs · 4 months
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hurt/comfort buddie fics
all mature rating!!! make sure to kudos/comment on these amazing works :)
leave the light on (i'll be coming home) - highly highly recommend this!!!!! by: HMSLusitania "an accident on a call leaves buck with custody of chris after eddie is... missing presumed. while they navigate their new family circumstances -- and fight to stay together, despite eddie's parents' best efforts -- a john doe wakes up in a coma ward with no memory of his own life beyond the knowledge he has a son named christopher and, somehow, he needs to get home." word count: 44k important tags: presumed dead, grief, mourning, angst, amnesia, getting together
peace in austin by: angalwithwingsoffire "the story of evan buckley, losing all hope in la after the lawsuit and moving to texas to join the 126." word count: 156k important tags post-lawsuit, 911 lone star characters, angst, evan buckely leaves the 118, depression, ptsd, emotional hurt
just to be with you by: woodchoc_magnum "in which eddie and ana are dating, buck is secretly in love with him, and christopher isn't handling it well." word count: 147k important tags: pining, angst, secret relationship, lack of communication, found family, jealously the evolution of buddie (series) by insanejuliann "over time, eddie starts to wonder if everyone might actually be right when they joke about him and buck being more than friends." word count: 171k important tags: pre-relationship, oblivious!eddie diaz, eddie diaz pov internalised homophobia, getting together, slice of life
heart of flowers/heart of gold by elvensorceress "after nearly losing each other, buck and eddie find their way to each other and their family’s happily ever after." word count: 144k important tags: season 4, friends to lovers, mutual pining, evan buckley takes care of eddie diaz, demisexual!eddie diaz, gun shot wounds
like when the sun came out by: spaceprincessem "buck can see ghost au" word count: 39k important tags: mentions of suicide, supernatural elements, getting together, first kiss, angst
if i said you could never touch me by: marviless "in which buck is avoiding having sex with eddie." word count: 15k important tags discussions of sex as self-harm, developing relationship, unhealthy coping mechanisms, character study, fluff
fireflies where my caution should be by: littlesnowpea "there are people on the porch,” eddie says, voice even. “saying they want to meet their grandchild.” word count: 13k important tags: fake marriage, self-esteem issues, protective!eddiediaz, angst, bobby nash and athena grant being evan buckley's parents
general audience rating hurt/comfort fics explicit rating hurt/comfort fics
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hocuspocusbabyy · 4 months
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Love Grows: Eloise x Cressida. (18+) 🦢🕊️
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Description: A continuation of Must Be A Dream
Pairing: Eloise Bridgerton x Cressida Cowper
Warnings: It’s smut babe, it’s smut.
“Last one darling, I promise.” The brunette whispered her presence unyielding, as though imbibing the essence of her very soul. Her legs trembled, weak and unrequited spasms of sorrow her body spent as her heart could only search for more. “Shh Cress I’ve got you.”
Eloise promised, her perfectly kept nails curls against the height of the blondes hip as her tongue pressed flat against her again. So close yet so far, the brunette resembled that of an echo - tangible, unobtainable.
Cressida’s inner voice grew thick, taunting, peeling at the very edges of her mind as Eloise continued her devotion. Reiterate swarms of warmth against the seems of her flesh, opening her into yet another bloom. An evolution Cressida had never aspired to attain, how could one surpass the heavens and expect another gate? Eloise’s tongue flush against her skin, repeated, nauseating motions that curled and whipped upon the pits of her stomach. She could not moderate her hunger for much longer, a fist striking down, hand against her lover's head as she ascended.
Those who have wings do not require keys nor gates.
Her back lay flat against the compost heap, the seams of her trousers wet askew beside them. Her blonde hair tainted with clumps of abrasion and mire.
Eloise laced her tongue along the crevice of Cressida’s knee, in silent disbelief, praise to whatever gods allowed her this moment. Stark beneath the Cowper thousands count sheets, her flesh hot as she dove forward again.
Give me my sin, and I shall worship the devil as though he were my friend, she thought.
Gazing up at her lover, the flat of her chest, the extensive span of her torso littered and bloodied with the presence of her. As though a map, formations of union, imperfections of diligence, smear of sin - the most welcome, becoming and sort after cardinal.
Till death gives up on them, through every circle of hell and inch of eternity. Realms and continents, cosmos and dirt. Eloise and Cressida would chase each other till the edge of reality warped beneath them. A solace found between them, that others could only aspire to.
Eloise pressed a final kiss against her lover's heated, worn flesh.
Crawling up against the grain to lay against her. The blonde left to simply mewl and gasp beneath her. The brunette mouth latched upon her skin, as though pray, irrevocable truths carved upon her being, that would last long beyond her body.
"Are you enjoying yourself down there?" Cressida whispered, sardonic, finally regaining her bonds as the brunette rose to her neck and snuggled closer with a lilt.
"I've never enjoyed anyone more," Eloise said, shockingly candid, nuzzling her nose against the blonde's jaw. Her eyes drifted closed, a mere second after they were snapped back open vision clouded over as Eloise bit into the soft flesh of her cheek.
“You made a mess.” The brunette shrugged, her damp fingers tracing up across the blondes lips.
Cressida took the fingers willingly, sucking them between her lips, cleaning every inch of herself from the other woman’s skin. Her holy communion, if she were the cup, Eloise were the wine.
Eloise smiled gently, her hair dishevelled littering her eyesight hundreds of hair pins scattered around as Cressida reached to stroke her face. Her eyes softened as she studied the blondes flushed face, the smudge of a nose, rosy pink cheeks, perfect swollen lips.
An unfathomable beauty, the optical illusion that was Cressida Cowper. In all her years following or prior, Eloise doubted she would ever come across such a wonder.
"I—" Cressida started finally opening her eyes fully to look at the brunette, "you're bleeding" she whispered quickly moving to sit up, pushing the brunette back to straddle her. Perfectly pale flesh now covered and darkened by their location. The mulch, cold and welcoming upon their burning flesh. Cressida knees sunk deeper as she grasped the other woman’s face within her her hands, "I'm sorry," she whispered, licking the blood from her cupid's bow.
Eloise laughed lightly, her tongue gently flicking against the witch's own. The pair indulged in a few shared kitten licks mixed with light brushing kisses across their faces.
"It's okay my Swan," the brunette reassured her left hand pressed into her lower back massaging the bottom of her spine, comfortingly, grounding. Her other sunk into the blondes' silky curls stroke lightly at her scalp - not dissimilar to the attention one would done a cat.
"Hell. I love it when you call me that." The blonde giggled gently, her thumbs running firmly across the brunettes shoulder blades pulling them flush to another.
They sat there silently rocking, few notes of Cressida's perfume were still in the air, pomegranate and incense, mixed with the iron bite of fresh blood, completion and the delightful musk of their mingled sweat. Eloise pressed a kiss to her hair, the blonde now resting gently against her shoulder nose pressed into her neck humming gently.
"If someone cut me into pieces," Cressida whispered, her chin firm upon the brunettes shoulder as she meticulously rolled a strand of hair between her fingers, "and all that was left of me was my hands, would you know that they were mine?"
"Yes," the brunette said, without hesitation, her eyes closed and neck flushed as the other woman snuggled against it. "Why'd you ask?"
Cressida shrugged, "I read a penny dreadful, with Ben.” she clarified. “Well more he read it to me, but I am grateful to him, and I honour our time together, as I do with your entire family. I find your existence within them all. Especially your mother.” Cressida claimed tilting to kiss the underside of her lovers jaw.
"Ah" the brunette mumbled, holding the older woman against her as if for warmth; making a mental note to yell at ben again about filling her Swans head with nonsense.
"How?" The blonde continued, her lips loving against Eloise’s flesh as she spoke. Every syllable scribed to her skin, "how would you know?"
Eloise opened one eye then leaning back to look at the blonde, "Well I'd start by looking for a trail of garden soil." She joked, taking the blonde's hand within her own, playing with her fingers gently.
Cressida tsked, her free hand tugging at her hair until she flinched, the blonde. Eloise brushing her knuckles over the soft curve of Cressida’s breast as best she could in their position. "There's a scar on your left index finger. Across your knuckle."
Cressida glanced at it, a weak silver thread buried in the furrows of her skin beneath one of her many rings. "Hardly," she said. "And if my blood had already drained by then, it would be the same colour as the rest of me. You'd never see it."
Eloise huffed. "Then I'd look for a torn thumbnail, chipped nail polish" she tried, pressing the pad of her thumb against the blondes as if to play war. "Your left hand, that you pick when you're agitated –“
"I do not – "
"Yes, you do," Eloise said.
The blonde said nothing. As Eloise wrapped her hand around her wrist; Their eyes met while she brought her hand to her lips and sucked each of her fingers in turn, her tongue curling around her knuckles, her smooth painted nails, the faint whorls of her fingertips.
"Or perhaps I'd use muscle memory," she said, giving her thumb a firm bite before letting her go.
"You'd suck my cold, dead fingers, would you?"
"If that is what it took to find you."
She seemed pleased by that. Cressida moved to kiss her, one hand sliding into her hair while she shifted them across the dirt beneath them. Her head lay against Eloise’s chest as their fingers danced together.
Then Eloise reached and twisted at her wedding ring, the bitter gold pulling on her eyelid. "Or I'd look for this, I suppose."
"One would presume that anyone to dismember me would strip me of my jewellery first."
"I'd look for the tan line then," Eloise shrugged. "Given how you refuse to take the damn thing off, it would be there."
Cressida sighed lightly at the, rolling off the brunette not far enough away that their shoulders were no longer touching - but enough to convey her hate for the conversation's turn. They lay side by side upon the dirt, surrounded by the beauty of her doing, as though relics buried beneath the world together for generations to come.
"I don't think Alfred would be able to identify me" the blonde mumbled, tugging her bottom lip between her teeth. "He's not as attentive, I couldn't even tell you the last time he held my hand."
Eloise made a noise of recognition, too busy thinking about the man who was stupid enough not to hold such hands that belonged to thee Cressida Cowper. Goddess.
The brunette pushed the hair back from her face and scratched lightly at her crown, before rolling over to rest her body upon the blondes again. It seemed they could last few moment without each other, as though marbles upon sand, sinking, seeking and soothing other another.
She perched above her, studying the way her pupils had become frantic and pleading, begging her to pull the wool over both their eyes. For a moment longer, here in their garden, that green house, the only home they’d ever been granted.
"Then he is a fool, more so than I already thought" the brunette commented as she bent down to press kisses along the brunette's jaw until her lips reached the warm shell of her ear. "I promise to you, my Swan, if you see to ever leave my sight for so long. I would seek you out and bring you here," she said, after a beat, "Always.”
"Even if I were just a hand?" The older woman asked, a wave of vulnerability gripped her. Crawling at her cheats as the brunette lips travelled there as though aware of her internal pressure.
"Even then" Eloise confirmed with a smile, kissing the blonde’s nose careful not to lay too much of her weight on to her. Urging her to breathe, her hand slowing bending up across her elbow, deft fingers drawing across her skin till it bumped and twisted towards her. Their hands fell together, grasped above their heads, the brunettes motions working to remove the offending object. Pulling until the ring finally popped off her finger, into her palm.
“I fear I have grown to resent the thing.” Cressida whispered, it had been a wedding gift of her father’s. The only thing he had ever granted them, in ode of their shared name.
Eloise sat up then, much to the blondes confusion as she reached back unclapsing the chain from around her neck. Sliding an all too familiar circle from upon it, Cressida had seen the ring a million times, Eloise refused to ever be without it.
“Then we shall trade. This—-was my fathers, my mother gave it to him before their wedding. It was handed to me at a young age and I was promised to keep it, until—-.”
“Until?”
“Until a hand was found worthy of it.” Eloise whispered, sliding the blondes ring upon her chain and sliding her own upon her finger. “We shall keep these as a reminder, and I will always find you.” The brunette promised, placing a gentle kiss upon the other woman’s lips.
The green house a heaven against the winter chill and their harsh reality.
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willow-lark · 1 year
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lark's recently-read byler fic recs
thought people could use some uplifting 💕🫶 please remember to hype up your favorite fics and art and other creative work & remember there's always something new to enjoy!! browse the tag or ao3 page & give someone's work a some love!! xoxo
If Time Runs Out by @rainypebble07 (T, ongoing, 14k+) - BYLER PIRATE AU!!! 🏴‍☠️ i literally just discovered this one today and i'm actually obsessed. i have never seen any other pirate aus (🤨) n i just wanna say u guys are missing out on the concept and on this fic bc i'm so invested. i'm so excited to see where this fic goes. royal mike x pirate mike is SO GOOD.
how to get your crush to believe you love him: a guide by mike wheeler by @newlesbianprideflag (T, 3/4, 11k+) - mike goes across the country to visit will at college in an attempt to confess his feelings to him. will, who has a boyfriend already and would like to think himself very over mike, thank you, is not impressed. this one deconstructs a lot of popular/fanon tropes and is really great so far!!
california show your teeth by @fireflywitch (T, 8/19, 63k+) - ok this one mayyybe only has background byler but i'm reccing it anyway bc it's one of my FAVORITE regularly updating fics maybe EVER. in early 1985, chief hopper and his average, normal family move from lenora hills, california to hawkins, indiana--the latter of which has had multiple tragedies over the past few years, to which the new chief's family may or may not be linked. LIKE WHATTTT 👀 go read it RN. masterpiece
All Good Dogs by @hellfiremike (T, 1/1, 3.8k) - this one actually made me cry. featuring: an EXCELLENT character study of will byers, a heartfelt examination of canon and what comes after, and chester the dog getting the attention he deserves and never got in canon 😭
kiss me (try to fix it) by birthofv3nus (T, 1/1, 4k) - will has kissed every member of the party except for mike, who is, understandably, taking this news *SO* well and is not jealous about it at *ALL.* but maybe his situation is not quite as dire as he believes it to be....ugh this one was such a fun read, and you know i loveee party dynamics!!
drank my poison all alone by silverluminoqity (T, 1/1, 4k) - mike is going through it, and, though vecna seems to have been vanquished, maybe he's not so completely gone as everyone thinks.... this is an excellent exploration of both mike's guilt as well as his evolution as a character, and how he views himself. super in-character and super good!!
high tide came and brought you in (and i could go on and on) by silverluminoqity (T, 1/1, 8k) - MOTEL FIC MOTEL FIC MOTEL FIC 🥳 or, mike and will have yet another heart to heart, and some things are revealed. this fic is just so completely heartfelt and UGH i was MELTING the ENTIRE TIME, holy SHIT. probably in my top 3 motel fics EVER tbh.
Chasing Heartlines by @cherryisgone (T, 1/2, 6k+) - i was so excited to read the first chapter of the sequel to maybe one of the best byler fantasy aus ever!! knight mike pining after prince will is something that can actually be so personal to me. i love a good mike-won't-shut-up-about-will fic. the attention to detail in this fic is actually INSANE.
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F/O Headcanons: Pokemon Universe Edition!
(More will be added with time)
(Also, many of these are inspired from headcanons I’ve previously read, so you may recognize them. Unfortunately, most of these have been in my phone for a long time so I don’t remember some of the original sources; if you do though, please message me so I can give proper credits)
Aromatisse tend to make potpurri nests
Nessa and Raihan are cousins.
Leon does not know how to break open a safe or pick locks… Hop knows how to do both. In fact Hop has numerous skills that are also a little shady.
It’s hard keeping a Riolu at their beginning stage because they are very loving, loyal and friendly pokemon. Don’t give your kid a Riolu because you will be taking care of a Lucario.
Phantump can possess all kinds of tree stumps (fruit trees, redwoods, birch trees, etc.). This gives them some natural variation in appearance.
Kirlia will often "intern" under Gallade and Gardevoir in order to enhance their psychic abilities. Which one a Kirlia trains under is thought to influence its evolution if male.
Magikarp are popular among breeders because they have a good amount of variation and produce lots of eggs. You can get Magikarp/Gyarados in various colors and patterns because of this. This is also true among Rattata, but they’re less popular due to people considering them weak and boring.
Absol are known for being paranoid. They are extremely protective of their trainers and will try to prevent any negative thing from happening to them, even if that thing is "leaf blows into their face" or something equally mundane.
Sylveon and Umbreon get along surprisingly well because they're both stealth hunters.
One popular textile company uses a stylized Leavanny for their logo.
Modern Pokeballs create simulations for the Pokemon inside that make them feel like they're in a large environment. In addition to making the Pokeball feel extra comfortable, they also help keep the Pokemon enriched.
Eevee and their evolutions arguably have the cutest courtship rituals on the planet. They start off by showing interest with short yips and sniffing, studying each other. After that, play-fighting ensues. When that's done, the pair share tiny kisses on the cheek.
Umbreon can spray poison from their rings. They can poison themselves if they breathe it in accidentally due to not being poison-types, but the toxins are pretty mild.
Leavanny can fly, but only for very short distances and not very far off the ground.
A popular rumor states that the more powerful the Lucario the more black they have on their bodies, but there's nothing scientific to back up this claim.
There are some that believe that Fidough evolve faster when around fire-type Pokemon. This claim has yet to be scientifically backed, however.
Young Vulpix will actively try to get their trainers to "hold their paw for reassurance.
The Leavanny line becomes incredibly agitated if they don't have any materials to "sew" with, so make sure they have access to plenty of greenery.
Absol live in isolation out in the wild, only coming together to breed and take care of their pups.
Jolteon oddly prefer sparkling water. Many theorize that the breed generally prefer foods that cause ‘tingly’ sensations as it’s similar to the hum of electricity.
Legendary and guardian pokemon in Kanto, Johto, Hoenn, Sinnoh, Unova, and Kalos are so rarely seen they are thought of as myths. Meanwhile the Tapu guardians in Alola have shown up in people's backyards to mess around with their sprinklers and lawn ornaments.
Luxray are used as police or medical Pokemon in Sinnoh due to their ability to see through objects and strong stature. They are good at finding and retrieving victims and people who need assistance. Along with that they can be trained to listen for heartbeats and give electricity in a way similar to an AED.
There is a superstition in Johto that if an Eevee jumps into a child's crib, the child is blessed. Often times for baby showers, the mother is gifted an Eevee egg for this very reason. When the kit hatches, it is left in the room with the baby. If the Eevee stays by the child's side, but outside the crib, the child is destined to be average and live a normal life. However, if the Eevee jumps inside the crib and sleeps next to the child, the child will be blessed with fortune, prosperity, and joy.
It's thought that having someone with a positive aura take care of Riolu eggs helps them to hatch faster.
Eevees tend to mimic the personality and habits of their trainers. If their trainer tends to be energetic, the Eevees will get a share of that energy too. If, on the other hand, the trainer tends to be more on the relaxed and a bit lazy side the Eevees will behave like that too.
Popplio are frequently used for public performances and other forms of entertainment. It works out nicely, as it serves as excellent enrichment for them
Swablu's soft, cotton-y down is a favorite filler for pillows, especially because they shed it often. Nowadays it's more common to find synthetic substitutes.
Eevee’s love to be groomed and accessorized, especially on their tail. They don't like baths though but they groom themselves well.
Hisuian Growlithe/Arcanine are still found in some volcanic regions, but they are incredibly rare and protected under law.
A group of Chingling/Chimecho are known as a gong.
While Vulpix and Ninetales have incredible fur, harming one is considered bad luck and, in some areas, sacrilegious.
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h-c-u · 2 years
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I see forever in your eyes
Summary: Evolution of the relationship, ended with a bit of fluff in the end ;)
Pairing: Tom Cruise x fem!reader
W/C: 1.6k
Rating: PG | Age Gap
TWs: None
Dedication: This fic is dedicated to the lovely @malavera :) Something in a conversation with her gave the idea for the last few paragraphs, and the rest kind of materialised out of it's own free will.
A/N: I don't usually write RPFs, so it's a bit new for me, but I like the challenge :)
Masterlist | List of tags | Dandelions - Ruth B.
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Being engaged to a movie star had its ups and downs.
Even though Tom did everything in his power to keep as much of your private life, well... private, he couldn't stop the press and paparazzi from trying to squeeze anything and everything they possibly could from the crumbs that he didn't manage to hide. And honestly... you didn't care. As long as you had him with you all the crazy theories and speculations didn't matter, and even more - few of them were actually funny. There was one that said that he literally bought you when he was visiting a 3rd world country... And another that said that you hypnotized him with your super-psychology powers, because how else you could have landed one of the most recognizable celebrities?
It didn't help that you were so much younger than him, which only fed them more... There were caricatures of him as a grandpa and you as a baby, sworn testimonies from people neither of you knew that he groomed you when you were still underage, and your personal favorite - a couple who pretended to be your parents, trying to convince the police and press that Tom kidnapped and brainwashed you, is abusing you and that they just want their little girl back home. As if you weren't almost 30. And you actually had to entertain the last idea for a bit, because even though there was no relationship between you and the crazy couple, you and Tom were still placed under observation for a week.
Sure, it wasn't the easiest, and you hated seeing Tom get angry at every ridiculous rumor. But one gentle touch from you was enough for all that negativity to disappear, and you loved watching him instantly relax just because you placed your hand on his shoulder. Or cupped his face. Or placed a soft kiss on the top of his head...
With time both of you learned that it was actually better for you to be in a public eye right next to him. The press couldn't say that he was abusing you if you were seen in a backless dress with slits up your thighs and there were no visible bruises. They couldn't accuse him of grooming you when you look nothing like the child they painted you to be. Sure, there still were wild theories, but not as aggressive as at the beginning, when there were only a few blurred pictures of you two together. And there were more and more articles talking about how much you loved each other with pictures of him looking at you with that relaxed expression, when you were holding hands, or when he was kissing your hand while someone managed to snatch a picture.
He wanted to take you with him to work, but that wasn't something that you wanted to do every day. Sure, you could fly with him whenever he was leaving the country and occasionally visit the set to meet his friends and co-stars, but you much rather focus on doing something else.
Since you had a Ph.D. in developmental psychology, you weren't exactly able to find a job in your field, and it was weighing on you, because you've spent so much time studying and doing research in a field you were deeply passionate about, only to have to choose between it and the man you loved. Because there was no chance that you would risk files of your patients being leaked to the press, which was a real possibility if you started working as a therapist while being engaged (and soon to be married) to one Mr. Tom Cruise. He would have never asked you to choose though, and it was a burden you were carrying alone because you didn't want to worry him.
But even if he didn't know exactly why he knew that something was wrong... So he helped you find something that you could do while he was on set, which was charity work. And of course, the press jumped on that with headlines like "Tom Cruise's latest fling gets HER way with HIS money". It didn't matter that you never touched his fortune... And instead of focusing on collecting money, you were finding local companies who were willing to donate their time or products to communities they were already close to. It was much easier than you first assumed because your name was linked with your fiancee's in every google search, and you were basically promoting those companies just by association.
And when you eventually started giving interviews to get ahead of any nasty rumors, there was a lot of venom from your interviewers. But because you basically had a degree from human behavior, it didn't take you long to understand what exactly most of them were after, and you were skilfully flipping the script in your favor, using their own words against them, to the point that few articles accused you of demanding the questions before the interview. You were happy to prove them wrong again and again. It was fun, dueling people who started with pure resentment towards you and ended up supporting your cause.
And as it turned out, you had a knack for it.
Eventually, the word about your agenda carried and you had to hire people to help you manage all the companies that wanted to join your cause, and only after four months you were running a full-blown non-profit, that matched companies willing to donate surplus of their products to people who needed it most. And it grew more and more every week to the point, when finally when you were out with Tom, you were asked about something other than who you were wearing, and what it was like being with such a famous actor.
And he was your number one cheerleader. Not only by praising you in every interview he did, but also by including you in the conversation, and encouraging you to talk about your latest projects. Logically you knew that you wouldn't be able to grow as much that quickly without his name associated with yours, even if he was purposefully staying away from the charity, not wanting to take the light that was shining brightly on you.
It took a while, but the venom slowly disappeared from the headlines, replaced by your latest pictures full of affection and speculation if you had already gotten married, and if not - was the date set up.
And now you were standing in front of the venue where there was another award afterparty, you were mostly alone in the area where you were supposed to wait for your turn in front of all the cameras, with only a few other people, who - if you were completely honest - you didn't recognize. You still had a few minutes without all the flashes and millions of questions. He was holding your hand in his, with your fingers intertwined, and just looked at you. In his eyes you were the most beautiful creature on this planet, nothing could even compare. You eventually gently put your head on his shoulder, stealing a moment of intimacy from all the reporters. You were careful not to transfer any makeup to his grey suit, even though you knew he didn't care.
With Tom so close, and a subtle scent of his cologne surrounding you, it was extremely easy to forget that showing up here tonight was more of an obligation than an actual date. And as if someone somewhere heard your thoughts, speakers started playing one of your favorite songs, Dandelions, which you started humming with a giant smile on your face. And as soon as Tom realized what was happening, he placed a soft kiss on the top of your head and changed the way he was holding your hand, so he was able to twirl you, and you immediately followed his lead, because at this point no words were necessary to communicate. You came back to him with another twirl, and he was already waiting for you, ready to put his hand on your shoulder blade, and as soon as he did that, you put yours on his shoulder, and off you went.
It was extremely easy to slip into the steps of the waltz you were following so many times in the privacy of your home, far from any prying eyes. And it wasn't a complicated choreography, but with your flowy dress, every twirl, every turn, every switch looked magnificent. You let Tom lead, and you closed your eyes, imagining that you were far away from here, letting him steer you away from anyone who was waiting for their turn to go to the red carpet. 
Every move either of you made was meant to compliment the other person... He was your ornate frame, and you were the painting within it... And together you were a masterpiece. You opened your eyes again, just to catch him doing the same, and you couldn't stop the giant smile climbing onto your face. It was so easy to forget why you were here, with his beautiful green eyes so intensely focused on yours, because everything else faded when you were together, and you hoped that this would never change.
But eventually, someone loudly said his and your name, calling you to the red carpet, and one look from Tom told you exactly what he planned to do, and you couldn't help but laugh out loud, and let him lead you, still waltzing, to the red carpet, giving reporters a small glimpse into your real life. You were immediately attacked with a cacophony of screams and flashes, but none of that mattered. Right now there was only him and you, twirling your way to the center of the carpet. Because you were focused on only one point in space, you didn't even get dizzy when you finally stopped.
He let your waist go and placed a small kiss on your hand, and pulled you closer, so both of you could take your rehearsed, photograph-worthy poses, and come back to reality. 
P.S.: For the choreography I thought about something like this set of course to this song The tempo is really similar, so you can open both at the same time and mute the dance video while the song will play in the background :)
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ranticore · 6 months
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20, 21, 33, and 34 for qedivar!!
My lil birdman....
20: Who do they like as a person but hate their work? Vice versa, whose work do they like but don’t like the person?
He likes Amivar his frenemy roommate who is also writing a thesis at the Spire, tho Amivar is doing historical anthropology. They tend to get along well, they can work in close proximity without wanting to murder each other (...that often), and sometimes they're fwbs. The only problem is that Qedivar absolutely loathes Amivar's theory of evolution, he thinks it's poorly founded and a whole bunch of nonsense, especially as there don't seem to be any mammals on Siren other than the people living there, so there's no evidence of close relatives, ancestors, etc. aside from the odd unaltered human skeleton in the fossil record. But no transitional forms! Amivar's reconstruction of an unaltered human places feathers on the arms, where they should be, but the wrist shape is all wrong. Qedivar isn't convinced. They fight about it a lot.
The reverse is Tekteivar, a scholar studying world languages. Qedi respects Tektei's work a whole lot because Tektei is the one who back-translated modern speech into English, so that all the records from Ishmael's time could be understood properly. But that's where the respect ends. Tekteivar is grating and cold and fighting with him isn't even fun.
21: What common etiquette do they disagree with? Do they still follow it?
In the Spire, the world's only university, the hierarchy of scholars is absolute. If you haven't published your work, or been recognised as an authority in your field, you have absolutely no right to question the knowledge of someone who has. The higher someone is up the chain, the less acceptable it is to question them. Qedivar used to respect this, as obviously you need to acknowledge when someone knows more than you. But since he started his own research into predecessors and Ishmael, and was completely blackballed as a result of his controversial findings, he no longer cares to follow that etiquette. The facts are what must be respected above all else, not the people studying them.
33: How do they greet someone they dislike / hate?
The Spire has a massively high population density and conflict is always held out in the open, to avoid simmering grudges or dysfunctional relationships that might affect dozens of individuals just because everyone's so closely packed together. So if you hate someone, you need to tread a fine line between making it known, so no feelings get bottled up, but not allowing it to dictate how you behave around that person. When working with Tekteivar, Qedivar is as functional as can be - all communication is clear, concise, to the point. They don't like each other but they are colleagues and working to a common goal, which they acknowledge, so they make it work. A greeting would be something like "Hello, today we will discuss [subject]", so that expectations are clearly stated and they don't have to spend more time together than is strictly necessary.
34: How do they greet someone they like / love?
He wouldn't greet them he'd just launch straight into whatever it is he'd want to say, trusting that the other person is familiar enough with him that he can do this without being misconstrued as rude or whatever. He is such a dramatic person that he'd probably start telling a story about how he almost DIED getting over here to meet them, with a multi-stage blow by blow account of the traffic conditions and whether he saw anything interesting along the way. He's very fun to be around but he can be exhausting lmao. Also Spire culture is very.. free and open where intimacy is cocerned so he would probably greet a friend with a hug or kiss [no distinction is made between friend and lover in the Spire]
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casuallyferal · 1 year
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It's been announced that Elon is reflecting on making X membership exclusive, ie where you pay to have an X membership.
With the upcoming death of X, I find myself having meta thoughts about my fandoms, the art community, and where they intersect; and, how much those things radically-and-completely changed after the death of Tumblr -- and still haven't recovered.
(this does relate to Cross!Sans' recent win I prommy just give me a minute)
...
To start off with an example:
Some folks still remember the mass death of Tumblr.
It's hard to describe it to people who didn't see it.
There were actual casualties. Y'all remember that, too? The deaths?
Most of them were because for many people, their ~5-10 years of portfolio disappeared overnight with no recovery. Even for folks who had backups, the little things that mattered most, like reblog-chains, had been compromised. I remember reading a vent post that stuck w/ me of a college applicant sobbing because their blog was going to be their portfolio to apply, and the needed morning, it was gone. They lived through an abusive home and lost their out. They stopped posting after that.
There are keystone works that now only exist in our minds.
Cornerstones of both fandom and people's real lives were erased by a mega corp afraid of organic Human sensuality, the artist's familiar muse. A kiss, a shirtless photo, a man lounging in the sun, didn't matter. Gone with no explanatory messages. Everything was very unstable about the rules for a disturbingly long time with ghost-edits to the sitewide rules, and vague lettering. If you posted a single dangly bit, you're out. If you posted male or female nypples at any point, you're out. The rules now aren't the rules that were for a little while, long enough to carve up careers and sink fandoms.
As a case study:
Try to understand that if you're a new arrival into an old fandom from the Before Times, like say Undertale,
... you arrived into a fandom carved into quarters.
Everything we cared about and definitive blogs & art pieces vanished. I was temporarily surprised that Cross!Sans won the AU contest instead of the longtime fandom favorites like G!Sans.
For years, he was our fandom mascot.
I had a harrowing realization and began doomscrolling to confirm that nobody can find 👌the showstopping sensuality 👌😩 of G!Sans. It's gone.
G-o-n-e gone, can't find it anywhere, like that mfker into his smoke.
Our fandom values and cultural pillars that we built ourselves were deleted off-site by some Suits.
Everything the young people inherited was bleached-out and fucking sanitized by a corporation. We had no choice but to tolerate that, even as self aware as we were about it.
...this cultural-drift was not because of natural evolution, but because we weren't sterile enough to "make the cut;" and now, it's definitive with a clear before/after gap.
...
I'm of the opinion that the online art community has never really recovered from these repeat events.
It's never been the same:
I see a lot less WIPs unless it's teasing a piece.
I see less reckless abbandon in artwork. There's less scribbles.
There's less breath on the canvas.
People tightened their shit up into hyper polished presentation-pieces.
There's less shitposting in general. People used to post doodles and silly faces and polished pieces were in between.
I think this new media relationship comes from a place of collective hurt. I think many of us realized all society gives a fuck about is money money money money for something that for many of us is a necessary biproduct of being alive. The people who couldn't handle that never came back. They Told Us So when they left, and coincidentally, never came back -- or came back different.
❕ (brief cw cp)
As necessary aside, I'm not lumping in the CP -- it's that every platform has CP, and addressing CP head-on on a platform like Tumblr also meant having regulations that corporate with legal, consensual sensuality, and that's not feasible without endorsing that exists... AND, is deeply influential to many artists. Tumblr wasn't willing to do that.
Tumblr wasn't willing to accept ads from orgs that are okay with that, either.
❕ (cw over)
I feel like this keeps happening... Facebook, Tumblr, Twitter/X... because it comes from a cultural climate of fear towards the veritable Human qualities, some raw, beastial, or even vestigial, of which is the Creative's foundational wellspring. What inspires is often transgressive, and there's no room for such things on a corporate level due to the sterile inhumanity of present day economics. If it's not palettable enough that it can be sold to stockholders with polished floors and dry-cleaned suits, we're a weed between the concrete.
Get too tall and we're seen as a disordered presentation of society instead of just... just, Human. Raw, beastial, vestigially Human.
...
At the end of the day,
our inherently-self-expressive Human potential keeps getting butchered alive by fear of sex & sensuality and love, and the bitter taste of culturally dominant hatespeech; to really spit on the situation, the biggest driver behind both of those is economic. There's a desire knit into the social fabric to squeeeeeeze every fkn penny possible out of an inherently involuntary part of the Creative's experience.
For many, creating freely is a necessary part of a Creative's self-regulation, regardless of whether it's just a hobby or a career path. Creatives create things. We have to or we wilt. It is counter-intuitive to the nature of Wall Street, as it stands, and so it will never favor us -- let alone begin to understand that, without overhaul.
For me, painting is like breathing, I have to do it or I become ill.
...
...It's like... they bottled our air.
Dammed our wellsprings and sell our own work back to us in plastic jugs. Elusive, ominous "they," vague because it's a lottery for whoever plays "them" next; executioner with hanging-rope in hand to strange the creative experience.
There's nothing sacred left when it's all about making money.
...so, where's next?
(: Might as well grit our teeth about it and stay organized. Mastodon, I think? Dreamwidth also? Misskey? Where have you heard? Where do I go, now?
I miss the reblog-artfights and having Tumblr friends before it was deleted by a suit, and I don't want to lose that.
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