#also to clarify i don’t hate the idea of schooling/learning

[ashironie]

no but i hate capitalism and the institute of schooling in america is dumb and stupid and 9 times/10 doesn’t help and it certainly doesn’t help me but if i get a c i will cry and if my manager looks disappointed for even a second i will cry

my grades and how well i do at my job don’t determine my self worth but like. they do. im like so good at those things. so they like do.

being anticapitalist with a strong work ethic is so fucking embarrassing like my managers don't deserve this

[lunaajade]

SPOILERS FOR DETECTIVE CONAN MOVIE 27

Okay so. The movie revealed that Toichi is alive. Along with the KaiShin cousins reveal, these are all things I’ve been theorizing for at least 5+ years (the former mostly because of the fact that Gosho Aoyama hinted at it in an interview).

Everyone in the fandom from what I can tell now wants to strangle Toichi for all the pain he’s caused his son. Even if it later turns out he’s been in hiding for a good reason, the fact of the matter is that he’s still letting his son put himself in danger to avenge him.

As I was thinking more about the fact that the movie chose to make this big reveal, my mind wandered to another theory I’ve had for the past 5+ years, ever since I saw the interview answer where he hinted at Toichi’s fate.

(Just to clarify this is all me rambling and wanting to share my thoughts that have been rattling in my brain for years. I’m not trying to convince anyone of this theory or discuss how plausible it is, nor do I even think all parts of it make sense/are logical, I’m just sharing these random thoughts I’ve come up with and wanting to see what people think.)

Now let me clarify that I don’t know WHAT early high school me was thinking in order to come up with this theory. I don’t even remember how I came up with it in the first place. I think I just sorta…thought of it. Nor do I have any idea why I still kinda sorta believe in it a little. With the way he just dropped this reveal for the first time in a CONAN movie (not…y’know…in Kaito’s own series…), I now have no idea if Gosho would ever try to pull something like this, but still, my mind can’t help but at least consider the possibility:

What if Toichi is a part of or leads the Magic Kaito organization. He started off genuinely as Kid wanting to protect Chikage. But eventually he learned of Pandora. At some point he came into contact with the organization. For whatever reason he eventually wanted to retire from being Kid. So he just decided to eventually let his son someday do his dirty work for him. Like. Just to further add on to how messed up it is that he never revealed to Kaito that he’s actually alive.

It’s a super messed up theory, I know. And look, I also hate seeing Kaito in pain (just let my boy be happy, please—), but I can’t deny that I’m at least a little interested in how a plot line/twist like this would play out. And again, because Gosho made the big leap to reveal Toichi is alive in a CONAN movie after hinting at it years ago, at this point I don’t really know what to expect anymore. Anything could happen (if only he’d show a little more love to MK…).

But I’m just rambling and wanted to share the thoughts I’ve been sitting on for years. And honestly, no matter how plausible you find this theory, no matter how likely it may or may not be to happen, at minimum, Toichi is now canonically alive and god knows how Kaito will react when he finds out. May the gods of manga have mercy on our boy’s soul… 😢

[kobold-that-bites-people]

it’s pride month, so i’m gonna take the opportunity to talk about something relatively serious for once.

if you have even half an opportunity, it is really important to actually mention queer stuff around other people. especially children. i’m not saying you have to personally educate everyone you meet, most people ain’t got time for that. but i am saying that there is a social avoidance of discussing even queer stuff as a topic in a lot of spaces.

let me give an example irl of what i mean. i’m trans. very openly so. and frankly, i could not have been more obviously trans when i was younger if i had tried. when i was a child in primary school, and we’d be divided into boys and girls for yard games, it was once phrased as “if you’d rather be a boy go on this side” and similar for the other. i of course, went over to the girls side, and was interrogated about why i could possibly want that. did anyone say that was even possible? mention the existence of trans people? no. nothing. similar events happened countless times through my life. i eventually figured out i liked guys towards middle and high school, and was quite openly gay. i remember so many people in that period who i’d complain to about how desperately i wished i was a girl, that i wasn’t a gay guy. did any of them mention the existence of trans people? no, of course not. even among queer people, they’d often give me a look when i’d talk about wishing i was a girl, that i didn’t have a gender, that i just hated being a guy, as if they knew something i didn’t. but did they say anything? no of course not.

and on and on it went, until one day i encountered the idea of being trans. the word trans. at a work diversity seminar of all things. i left the place yearning desperately more than anything in life that i was trans so i could transition. because that sounded like everything i had ever wanted. and i told people as such. but did they say anything? clarify that being trans wasn’t some obvious thing you were born with and would automatically know? no of course not.

eventually i did figure it out. after 23 years and meeting openly trans people online. but if literally anyone had brought up the possibility that i could be trans, when i was 5? 6? i would have leaped on it in a heartbeat.

and all that dancing around words, of refusing to discuss queer things around me for... no clear reason i know of. it didn’t help me. the extra time to think about it didn’t help without the words or concepts to even talk about what i was feeling.

what it did accomplish, was leave me with an entire experience of puberty, watching my body transform into something i desperately wished i could escape. it left me with countless scars as i carved at everywhere the body hair came in. scars on my chest, that felt wrong and empty and hard. it left me with a sharp pain in my heart every time a family member called me “handsome” or “manly”.

and when one day i eventually did find out. and came out as trans. and started talking about wanting different pronouns and for people to stop threatening to cut my hair while i slept, suddenly there was a change. everyone in my family suddenly wanted to introduce me to trans close friends of theirs. suddenly wanted to be supportive and help. wanted to introduce me to all the trans people they knew.

but i’ve seen both sides. i’ve seen how that entire concept was carefully avoided until i was part of it.

please, don’t be like that. talk about these things. especially around children, but also around your peers. even the openly queer or gay ones. not all of us have had that opportunity to learn these things. i went through school in the southern us with an abstinence only sex ed class. my “talk” with my folks was my granddad one day saying unprompted that condoms are important and i should carry them “just in case”. even interacting online, it took years before i found circles that talked about these things.

tl;dr please talk about queer subjects. not everyone knows what a therian is, or what trans is, they might not even know about being bi or poly, all of those words need to be learned. and avoiding them unless someone already is openly such, only causes more harm.

[disasterbijamietartt]

Since I just can’t not think about how Roy x Jamie could still happen and my dream scenario for the next episode, I’ll just drop this here for fanfic writers looking for ideas since none of this will happen and I know I'm too lazy to write this myself 😂

(Jamie was in two promo pics so he’ll probably be a background character with zero lines but some great pantomimes)

Jamie won’t be called up for England to play in the qualifications for the World Cup in Qatar, which is a downer at first, but he soon recovers (he’s a battler after all). And he still could make the cut for the actual World Cup team (I don’t know if this is how it works with the teams, but I doubt the show would care). Therefore, Roy and he have some extra intense training while everyone else is on break. Finally, we get a proper training montage to the tune of “Physical” by Olivia Newton-John.

(Sam also won’t be called up for Nigeria since Akufo is a piece of shit. 😞 But he’ll focus on his restaurant during the break, which is Akufo’s next target on his irrational mission to ruin everything good for Sam. But this will lead to Sam and Simi bonding some more and becoming an official couple. And Rebecca somehow gets Akufo to stop with his scheming. (He probably wants to buy Richmond to kick Sam off the team…) Maybe thanks to a bet similar to the dart competition with Rupert.)

But back to our main guys.

Roy is still pondering what he wants out of life (For once this season he hasn’t forgotten the lesson he learned between episodes!). During a training session, he asks Jamie what Jamie wants out of life. Jamie answers something like “I just want to live life as me!” which initially has Roy rolling his eyes. Until Jamie explains that most of his life he has lived as the man his dad wanted him to be instead of being true to himself. And that he wants to become the best version of himself to finally deserve to be loved and cared for. (And Roy looks puzzled like “??? But everyone already loves and cares about him???? Even me.”, but of course doesn’t say so…)

Then something along the lines of “I wanted and got a lot of things for the wrong reasons, so … maybe it is better not to get what you want but what you need.”

Jamie also comes out as bisexual during this exchange. He tells Roy how Colin’s coming out and everyone’s acceptance made him think maybe he can actually be bisexual. Instead of always hiding this part of himself, just because his dad hated it when he got the notion Jamie might be into boys.

(All of this then sets up that Jamie turns down the offer to play for England in Qatar, since he won’t support a World Cup in a country where they still have strict anti-gay laws. Clarifying that it is more important for Jamie to be the best, most authentic version of himself instead of being the best and most successful footballer he could become)

Keeley loses KJPR since Jack pulls the funding. And she realises the firm was something she might have wanted, but not what she had actually needed at this point in her life.

When Keeley goes to Rebecca to talk about this, she runs into Jamie in the hallway, they have a sweet exchange (he encourages her not to give up on her dreams), that is witnessed by Roy who has this yearning, slightly jealous expression (Cue for Isaac to talk about body language and something along the lines of “Sorry, coach, looks like she’s over you”)

Roy and Jamie do a school visit similar to the one with Ted and Roy in “Trent Crimm, the Independent”. Jamie meets Phoebe and Ms Bowen and while they interact, there is a similar wistful shot of Roy pondering … something. (Trent is there for his book and looks at Roy like “I know what you are”)

(Alternatively, Phoebe’s team visits Nelson Road and that is where the locker room stills are from—I just want Jamie to meet Phoebe!)

In a later scene, Roy is watching TV with Phoebe, getting snacks while some commercials run.

Cut to Keeley slouching on her couch, watching the same station as Roy and Phoebe.

And then Jamie’s bantr commercial plays. He says something super profound. That he is looking for a relationship where they help each other become the best version of themselves and support each other in reaching their life goals. This visibly moves Keeley.

Cut back to Roy and Phoebe. Roy tells Phoebe he has to go somewhere, to get what he really needs.

And then “You can’t always get what you want” by the Rolling Stones starts playing, while Roy makes his way to his unknown destination. Is it Keeley? Ms Bowen? (Spoiler, it is neither!)

(The song is both a callback to Jamie comparing him and Roy to Mick Jagger and Keith Richards AND to “She’s a Rainbow” playing while Roy returned to Richmond. And the chorus very well suits the theme of the episode as I wrote it in my head.

Edit: I also just noticed they used this song for the season 3 trailer, which I had totally forgotten about, so it would make even more sense to pick it up at some point later in the season)

And we get a montage of what is going on in the other characters’ lives, finishing of their storylines for this episode.

Rebecca has realised throughout the episode that she wants to give Sam another shot. But when she reaches Ola’s she sees Sam and Simi being cute together and kissing. Rebecca turns around, runs off and slams into someone. She drops her phone and when she reaches down to get it, the other person does the same. Cue to them looking at each other and … it is Dutch Guy! (And at last Rebecca gets to see his penis!)

Feeling sympathy for Bex, Nate leaked information to the press about Rupert's cheating (just like he did with Ted, but this time it is for the greater good!!!). Rupert finds out who the source is and tears Nate down verbally, really humiliating & insulting him to the core (to stress the stark difference between Rupert and Ted). In the end, Rupert threatens to fire Nate if he makes another mistake. Nate is devastated at first, but finds comfort with Jade. She is proud of him for exposing Rupert for the cheating asshole he is and reassures Nate (who is a worried mess about possibly losing his job) that she likes him and not his money and fame.

(At first I wanted Rupert to outright fire Nate, but Rupert probably wouldn’t want more bad publicity by firing the Wonder Kid AND it would be a better end for Nate’s arc if he is the one walking away from Rupert.)

Someone rings at Keeley’s door, but … it is not Roy, it is Barbara. She tells Keeley that she quit her job with Jack since she is sick of collecting snow globes. She rather wants to build a business with Keeley. (And for the rest of the season Keeley works on building her own little PR firm, slowly growing instead of suddenly being overwhelmingly BIG because of funding and expectations, with AFC Richmond as her primary client.)

(Also something with Ted, but I haven’t settled on some specific scenario. Maybe some realisation that the team may want him to stay but they don’t need him anymore, therefore it is better for him to leave so they can grow on their own. I’m fairly certain he’ll leave—or at least he decides to leave—by the end of the series, but it might be too early for him to actually come to this realisation. Either Trent or Rebecca or both will play a big part in his storyline this episode)

Next cut is Jamie on the couch, reading a book about football tactics. It rings at his door, and when he opens, *gasp*, it is Roy, a bit breathless and sweaty from running too fast. Jamie is a bit confused. Roy explains he has finally realised what he wants out of his life and that he maybe not get it, but he has to at least try. Then Roy confesses to Jamie that he wants him. A brief moment of hesitation before they kiss.

Fade to black and the end credits start rolling.

OR, if they go for a more gut-wrenching scenario and Jamie x Keeley x Roy endgame: Roy reaches Jamie’s house just in time to see Keeley standing at the door, both of them talking and then Keeley going in for a kiss. Shot of a very sad Roy turning away while Keeley and Jamie retreat into the house.

[monobmp]

No I completely understand… there’s a lot that could be done with canon that could be really interesting… and I know exactly what ur talking about when it comes to the awkward social interaction margarita LIKE ITS SO PAINFUL IN A GOOD WAY sinks my teeth into them and shakes them around. I think why Bill is so out of pocket with the kids is that they don’t have as much uhh how do u say it.. like they’re kids and no one outside of the know would believe them.. but also like they don’t have the adult brains that go “I’m just gonna ditch this and run as far away as possible” if that makes sense??? Like an adult typically has much more resources. I think Bill was also just genuinely invested in keeping up appearances at first and see how far he could sink his claws into Ford… I always thought that Bill would have a very far removed POV on human socialization and use it like a reference guide on how and what buttons to push, which is really fun bc my major uses a similar perspective to examine human social behaviors

Also I understand the Ford dislike bc I’ve been down bad for him since middle school but dear god he’s an asshole basically for the entirety of the show. Legitimately the only person he’s consistently nice to is Mabel, which to me is interesting when you put that next to his interactions w/ Dipper before weirdmageddon. I suppose it clarifies that he doesn’t really have any disdain for people who aren’t like him, just some really outdated beliefs. But it’s ok I can fix him

There is!!! It's just I'm not really much of a writer though, unfortunately, I love consuming the content, but it's hard to think of suitable content yourself 😔 it's tough 😭😭😭

And YEAH that honestly makes sense. It's giving "I'm the creature your parents warn you about if you don't brush your teeth before going to bed" but no physical harm, maybe just trauma though.

And Bill keeping up the "muse" appearance 💕💕💕💕💕 I still find it crazy Ford calls him "My Muse" and had all that Bill memorabilia 😭 ALSO I really like the idea of him using memories as a reference guide for human socialization, even if he doesn't fully get it. I love it a lot actually, I love learning an outsiders perspective on understanding human mannerisms and dissecting the deeper meaning of it. Like sure he's a little freak in a human POV that aligns dead rats into Ford's name for his birthday, but that means a lot to Bill in his own way, right? Smiles

I DON'T HATE FORD ANYMORE, I'm no longer a young idiot that didn't have the concept of media literacy and can understand more on why Ford was so mean </3 but also he was like, gone from human civilization for 30+ years and was being chased by a triangle for that entire time. Just give grandpa some time to get adjusted again 😊

[apartments4rent]

Apartments For Rent: TEN-YEAR RETROSPECTIVE

Ooooohhhh man, this… This is fucking me way up, big time… I don’t even know where to begin with this… I should definitely be using this free time I have today doing my homework, you know, the thing with a hard deadline? That was technically due yesterday?? Well, how about instead of that, I take a walk down memory lane…

Do you remember the 21st night of September? 

Picture this: It’s 2013. It is your sophomore year of high school. You have more friends than you ever have in your life and they are all so wonderful to you (this wouldn’t always be the case and they all wouldn’t stick around but you didn't know that yet). One of you proposes the question: If you were a monster, what would you be? A witch. A vampire. A werewolf. A mermaid. A ghost. A selkie. A dullahan. (You had to look those last two up.) You are so inspired by this that you want to make a story for these ideas to live in. You create a fantasy. Where all your best friends get to live together under one roof. A slice of a life you know you’ll never have. It’s actually the 20th night of September that you created the tumblr blog where most of what comes out of this will live (your first post says “why do i do this to myself”) but it is the 21st night that your creations get their names. Their genders don’t all stay the same but their cores haven’t really changed. “a very dramatic/theatrical witch who loves animals and sass master. a bubbly and happy mermaid who gets really scary when u cross her. a passive, nerdy vampire who isnt so out spoken. a moody selkie who loves to learn and lost her seal skin. a strong beautiful fairy girl who doesnt take shit from no one but is v nice to her friends. a ghost girl from the 1920s who is forgetful and not really confident but really likes her new friends.” You put a disclaimer at the bottom of the post, clarifying that these descriptions shouldn’t be taken as a description of your friends but separate characters entirely. This is also the birth of Marvin, the human man created to navigate this world of chaos, not based on anyone you know in real life. The straight man in this goofball circus. Your Original Character. (Who, you now realize, was designed as the boring main male character in the harem anime.) This was the genesis. And you would never know peace in your life ever since. 

And then what happened?

Bro, so much. A lot can happen in 10 years. You develop the characters further. You make a small town for them to live in (even though you’ve never even been to a small town in your life). You make (bad) art. You make sims because you hate the way you draw but you need a physical version of them to exist outside your head, as you see them. You apparently make a rule where no one outside of your little group is supposed to know about these characters (because you “had an experience” and “don’t wanna repeat it”). You make Alternate Universes for these Alternate Universe selves to populate, again and again. (As of right now, your “AU of an AU” list stands at 26 but there are probably more dumb ones not yet counted on the doc you made.) You try to make a one-shot comic collaboration with all your friends but no one seems to agree on how it should go so nothing but a script and panel formatting ends up getting made. (You know that your script was worse with many unnecessary details but you were bad at killing your darlings and stubborn about your ideas being the best. You’ll learn eventually.) You love and appreciate all the things your friends make for this story you start to feel full ownership of. (You haven’t noticed yet how much of a control freak you are.) Their writing and art give you life, especially considering they are doing The Most while you mostly just come up with ideas. The setting goes from apartment building to boarding house and back again before a year has passed. The first anniversary is a blast! You actually wrote something! And drew something you were proud of! Others wrote and drew and it was great. (How would you know it would never be like this again?) 

And the years go by and by… 

After the first year, you decided you wanted to make a dating sim with these silly characters because you just loved them so much. You shipped the characters (not realizing that your friends did it as a way to express they had crushes on each other, conveniently shipping your self-insert with the only man/only character not based on a friend.) There were still a lot of headcanons being made and posts being shared. But noticeably less and less. Then the second anniversary hit. Not much fanfare. After the second year, more characters started popping up based on more friends you make. Some of the friends that were there in the beginning weren’t anymore and you try not to think about it. After all, these characters aren’t your friends, they are separate and distinct from them. So it’s still OK to play with them, right? (The answer must be yes; ten years later you still do.) Then the third anniversary happens, with 4 posts between them. It was understandable. That was your senior year of high school. Everyone was getting ready to go their separate ways. You were moving clear across the country. Your friend group was getting smaller still and this big shake-up would prove who would stick around to still be a part of this thing and who would remain a memory for you to look back on in ten years. 2017, though, was a big year for the blog. You were unemployed and not yet going to college so you had A LOT of free time on your hands. It was probably the most number of posts you made since the first year of the blog. It was magic. Then you got a job. There have been 16 posts in the last 6 years. 2019 had none. 2020 and 2021 had one each. They were all made by you. There has certainly been less activity on the blog but that doesn’t mean these kids have been lying dormant all this time. You haven’t stopped thinking about them since they first popped up into your head. In 2019, you rewrote the story you had written for one of those anniversaries; the first chronological beat. (You haven’t read it since then; You have no idea if it’s good or not.)  In 2020, you attempted to write the actual story (like fr fr) for NaNoWriMo -- you didn’t get very far but it’s the thought that counts? 2021 was a quiet year as far as actual writing goes - as was 2022 - but trust that your brain definitely didn’t forget about them. 

The Retro part of the Spective 

Alright, enough second-person POV. 

Ten years.

Ten years. 

Talk about hard pills to swallow (thanks FOB). 

I’ve had this “story”, these characters, banging around in my head for ten years and what do I have to show for it? A couple thousand words and a blog full of half-thought ideas? Around this time last year, I was excited about this anniversary. I made a new Twitter for it (before that died) and was planning on actually publishing something to do this story justice… and I chickened out. I convinced myself, once again, that I wasn’t ready. That other things were more important, they took precedence. Do I have even that much to prove I was right? No, I don’t because I really haven’t changed all that much in ten years, if you can believe it. I know, a real shocker. (I still like all the same things I liked back in high school for crying out fucking loud!) I wanted to reach out to the people I used to do this with, to see if they still wanted to be part of it. (I’m sure that wouldn’tve been at all hard, I wonder why I didn’t follow through?) I wanted to have something so I would be able to say, “I did it.” So that maybe, I could finally move on. But that’s the thing, isn’t it… I don’t want to move on. I’m stuck in this arrested development because I refuse to change, to give up any past part of myself. Because if I don’t have that, I don’t know who I am. 

So now what? What’s all this for? One big, sad diary entry reflecting on the parts of myself that I already know very well? 

Honestly, I don’t know. I was hoping I could come to some sort of conclusion by writing this but as it turns out, it only made me want to cry. 

I wanted this to end on a good note.

I spent all day writing this, I can’t end it like this.

So let’s instead talk about all the things that have changed about these goofballs over the years:

Mystic Cove is a city in a Northern California town. It started out in Florida, it almost ended up as a mountain town. I also briefly considered straight up placing it in San Diego because there are some nice, beautiful, old-ass buildings downtown that juxtapose the cold, sleek skyrises in such a way that I thought about writing something about being lonely in a city and finding your own family. 

Vast Acres has been an apartment building, a boarding house, Mediterranean Revival, Victorian, Queen Anne, even briefly considered a Bed and Breakfast. All I know is it has to be the place where this family gets together. At one point under the ownership and operation of Marvin’s dad Alejandro, it is now bequeathed to Marvin by a mysterious, freshly dead uncle/great uncle. 

Marvin is a wholeass person to me, in that he’s not completely knowable to even me anymore. Marvin is probably the person in Mystic Cove I know the BEST and that like doesn’t mean anything to me. Like yeah, I’ve written pages and pages and answered so many pointless questions about him but… I don’t know how else to describe him other than, “He’s an enigma.” The most significant thing about him that’s changed is I’m considering undeading his mom? Just because I feel like we’ve had enough dead mom media and it’s not something I can speak to truthfully. Briefly considered making her a runaway mom? But we’re still thinking about it. I think her name is Lily? 

Mel’s name went from Melinda to Melody because I decided Melinda was a weird name? And Mel likes music so I thought I would be clever. She went from “Marv’s sister” and side character to basically co-lead. Mel was even almost briefly considered as the real main character for a time when I thought to lean into its roots as a product of a high schooler’s imagination and go full YA coming-of-age adventure. It was actually the subject of my 2020 NaNo attempt. I decided against it because I loved Marv too much to push him to “supporting character” and if there’s something about me that’s developed, it’s that I don’t much care for YA books anymore. 

Amber is unsurprisingly my favorite because I’m a Leo. I think I finally decided on a backstory for her that I like and she’s not white anymore? Like, not fully anyway lmao. Before she was like, from someplace in England with like Spanish parents so like tan? But now we’ve decided that she’s from colonized Mexico and her father is a white devil. :) I’ll let you figure that one out. Over these ten years, I’ve grappled with the fact that an immortal is almost impossible to understand. I’ve gone back and forth on whether her immortality is on purpose or by accident or a curse or what. Honestly, I’m still thinking about it, I don’t know for sure what I’ll end up picking. Right now though, it is an involuntary immortality with her life being tied to her sister’s (yes, the cat). Details are fuzzy. I’d have to finish the main story first but if I were to make a spin-off, I would make a prequel story about Amber’s life because it is QUITE eventful. 

Lucas is a man now lmao. And so is Will. And they r gay. For each other. But that’s been that way from the beginning lol. I think Luc’s story had to do with self-worth and Will… Will didn’t have much going on in my mind. My instinct was to make him a himbo but Will has always been very smart in my head so I don’t think that will work? Dude’s beefy asf and mad respectful so perfect man tbh? No notes. 

Jenny’s been my way to try to break down the trope “Born Sexy Yesterday” because that’s just the kinda guy I am. No, but fr I think I was making a very infantilized version of Jenny initially and that’s why I shipped her with Mel in so many AUs?? I’m not against skewing Jenny younger to make that ship viable in canon but I don’t know if that’s the story I want to tell. I don’t think Jenny ever had a goal beyond “Get to the surface” which she gets when she makes her appearance in the story so?? Where do we go from here? Things to think about…

Rohen was fat (like a proper seal should be) before they lost their skin on the beach to some snot-nosed kid and became depressed. When they start healing on their depression journey, they start to gain weight again and it's a good thing. :) 

Everyone else I haven’t mentioned yet hasn’t changed much (ie. I haven’t thought about them much). It’s not that I have favorites (even though I just said that I did), it’s just that I basically go down a list whenever I think about these guys, and, due to my short attention span, I never make it all the way down the list. AND honestly, it’s probably for the best because looking back… there were WAAAY too many characters to keep track of ngl… Like it’s a slice-of-life thing, I know. Not every character has to be involved in every storyline but like… At some point, you have to draw a line at, “How many named characters with their own plotlines can I insert into this story?” YKWIM? Especially because at one point there was a whole roster of other people who lived in the apartment building when there were like 20 units. That was (rightly) reduced back down to just the core cast. 

You can pry Jonesy from my cold, dead hands, tho. He’s perfect. He can stay.

This post took me literally all day. 

I’m tired.

I don’t really expect anyone to read all this but if you are not me and you made it to the bottom, congratulations! You now know me on a much deeper level! :) I hope I can convince myself to buckle down and write, straight up. Maybe NaNo this year? No promises. I’m trying to apply for university this year and living situation issues might take precedence but such is life, right? 

Thank you.

I love you all.

For giving me this gift.

Even if you never intended to give it fully to me.

It’s mine now, bitches. >:) 

Here’s to 10 years! And many (but hopefully not too many) more…

Cheers. 🥂🍾

❤️

[echos-girlfriend]

I know the is weird request and you totally don’t have to do it, but maybe you could do an AU where tbb and the reader are in high school? An Echo x reader of course

Howdy!

I actually love this idea! And as I was writing this I thought about making this a small series! If you would ike it to that is.

Hope you like it anon! 💙💜🤍

(Also to clarify my HS had a vocational center where I learned and earned my college course completion in Graphic Design & Interactive Media.. they also had culinary class and I thought that echo would totally do culinary class sooo. Here’s this fic)

Culinary Class

Echo x reader

Master list

~_~_~_~

You take the only empty seat in your culinary class.. which is next to a cyborg. A cute cyborg and you too become friends quickly

~_~_~_~

(Somewhat Modern au, With SW universe elements. Echo has a cybernetic hand)

~_~_~_~

You walked into the classroom and saw that the desks were two students with a sink and small stove in between them.

There was one last open seat. In the back of the class next to a boy. You slowly sat down and the boy looked at you.

You gave him a small smile and wave. You swore his brow furrowed and his cheeks turned pink. He waved back slightly.

“My names (-) . What’s yours?”

“I’m echo..”

“Wait? Is your brother Crosshair?”

“Yeah.. w-why?”

“I sit next to him in math. He hates it”

“Pfft.. sounds like Crosshair.. so. Do you like cooking?”

“Yes. Although I’m not very good at it”you giggled

Echo chuckled and put his hands.. well arms together. You then saw that he had cybernetic hand. He must’ve saw you looking at it and when to hide it.. he must be self conscious you thought because he then started to try and cover the attachment on his head.

“It’s ok.. I have those ports too. on the back of my head”

You lifted your hair and echo saw two small ports right under your hair line above your neck.

“I was in an accident and I hit my head on a metal bar.”

“I was. I had an accident too”

You nodded and didn’t pressure him into talking. The Galaxy could be cruel..

“What time do you have lunch?”

You asked gently.

“After 3rd period”

“Me too”

“My brothers do too.. maybe you would like to meet them?”

“Of course I would!”

~_~_~_~

After class had ended you both went onto your 3rd period classes.

“See you at lunch echo”

“See you then”

You made your way to the restrooms and couldn’t hold in your excitement.

“Oh my gosh he’s so adorable!!”

You then got yourself together and went onto 3rd period.

~_~_~_~

“Hello echo.”

You sat next to him at the table. He smiled at you.

“My brothers should be here soon.”

And a few minutes later the rest of his brothers arrive one by one. You started to feel nervous. Especially about the super tall one.

“Who’s this echo?”

The one with goggles looked at you curiously.

“This is my new friend. We have culinary class together”

“Hahahaha! You took a cookin class?!”

“Wrecker. Don’t be rude.. I’m hunter.. and that is wrecker.. Crosshair and tech.”

“Oh trust me I know who Crosshair is. We sir next to each other in math”

Crosshair rolled his eyes and sulked.

“It’s nice to meet you all.”

“Like wise.. I’m grateful echo has a new friend.. he’s rather shy”

Echo’s brows furrowed and his face turned pink. You giggled and smiled at him. You could tell this friendship was going to make your school year better.

~_~_~_~

[michael-teaching-real-but-not]

when is when the to the of the!!! 😢😢😢 (pinned)

introduction:

so uhh

basically. michael's teachings ask blog

most of the stuff ( i'd say like %98 of it ) here isn't intended to be canon but this account is ran by an MT voice actor & concept artist ( @cleanerdoesntgaming btw )

character intros (faculty):

Michael: pretty cool guy. somewhere in his 30s in critter years (i'd say he'd be around 5 or 6 in human years.) used to be the most normal "person" here in terms of personality. his eyes can change color

Ms. Painter: also pretty normal. mid 30s in critter years (4 or 5 in human years.) if you need a word to describe her personality silly probably works i guess. also rabote 🐇🐇🐇🐇🐇

Jet: awful. mid 40's (he is a human to clarify.) not human mentally though (he has tortured & killed several students for their wrong doings before and WILL go after more.) he's convinced the other faculty that killing "bad" students is the right thing to do as well (by force obviously.)

Cleaner: no idea what age to give this guy. as a very vague range 20-40 (human & critter years.) tries to be nice but lost his shit years ago. also kinda paranoid sometimes

Archie: blind. doesn’t really choke people intentionally he just does it sometimes (also like. 80 years old)

Eventina: 20-30. new record holder for most normal bitch in the mix. yeah we dk much about her in canon yet so I’m just gonna say white woman and move on

Liam: early 20s. used to go to “this school” when he was younger & volunteered as a faculty member. runs a secret shop amongst the students

Scott: 🐖

character intros 2 (evil faculty):

Nesteph: unknown principal. died in the fire when the old school burnt down (maybe or maybe not because of jet.) really hates the current situation he's in right now

Asher: vice principal of the old school (also dead obviously.) friends with unknown principal (sometimes talks with him in the detention room after school.) that's all i've currently decided to think about in terms of him though

character intros 3 (main students):

Max: HUGE sports kid. 16 years old (like in actual canon. also a human obviously.) about his personality just know he would willingly eat shower tarts ( <- for anyone new to tumblr that is a link you can click it )

TV Bot: cunt. 12-16 maybe

J-C-tot: don't know how to describe this guy like at all. one thing i do know is that in one way or another that boy ain't right

Gzoonk: ???

Tabbu: michael's daughter. manny age (3 years old critter years) and was born with black magic (obviously)

Ruby: annoying little shit. 10/10 would punch. anyways 6 years old

Susie or Sally or whatever her name was: annoying little shit but not as much. 4/10 probably wouldn’t punch. 10 years old

Nerd Kid (planned to be official): he/she was teased in MDG’s TLOE stream. putting him/her on here should be fine i don’t post his/her planned design

character intros 4 (background students):

Band: band kid & drummer kid. they're both 5 & stupid

Skarlet (unofficial): jumprope baby. 4 years old (that's all i have in mind about what to say)

Nensha (unofficial): 16 years old. used to be an art kid. was attacked by ms. painter a few months prior to the mod though

Ghost: dead. 14-16. jet killed him

Anastas: cunt (the original.) 8 years old. made fun of (and killed) jacob (jacob -> currently known as TV dude.) used to go to a different school with jacob but moved with him just to piss him off

Jerry (used to be official): 16. WAY too tall for some reason. only knows Russian (he went to “this school” to learn English but basically got lobomized because he was “shit at spelling”)

[purplesurveys]

1650

do you ever do these surveys with your SO? we do all the time I never did when I had one; I like that this is one of the few things in the world I can keep for myself.

have you ever totally lied or made up ridiculous answers for surveys? There’s absolutely no reason for me to lie on these lol.

do animal furs upset you? Yes.

who picks the music when you’re riding in the car? I drive alone most of the time; otherwise when it’s my family headed out it’s either me or my sister who connects to the Bluetooth 50%-50% of the time.

do you have a waste basket in your car? Nah, I just shove trash in whatever bag I’m bringing at the time and then toss it out once I can find a trash can. 

what’s the Spanish name for your favourite food? Is there a Spanish word for sushi...? If there is, I have no idea what it is.

do you know anyone who regularly uses a bike for transportation? In this extremely bike-friendly country? Hahahaha. Everyone I know either drives, has a driver, or takes a Grab.

do you consider audio books not really reading? It still is. Just not my preferred way of doing so, though. My attention span is like...3 seconds long.

strangest thing you’ve ever put in the trunk of a car? A MEGA FUCKton’s worth of dog food. I handled a dog food brand for work and stupidly agreed to pack 50 influencers’ worth of PR packages, so all the damn food bags got sent to me. It was like 10 boxes of 2kg and 5kg bags, and then there was also a fucking army of 10kg and 15kg bags sent over. Didn’t even all fit in my room, so some of them I had to briefly store in the trunk. Worst experience ever, didn’t get to sleep in my bed for like two nights, my mom was understandably fuming, and I’m never doing something like that again.

do you carry matches or a lighter? Neither, I’m scared of fire lol.

do you keep socks with a hole in them if they are your favorites? I don’t have a favorite pair, but I’m also not the type to throw out a sock just because it has a hole. People don’t even see socks most of the time, so I don’t see the point in immediately getting rid of it.

last time you wore clothes that were too small on you. Can’t recall. I’m usually too tiny for clothes, lol.

have you ever frightened someone on purpose. not as a tease but to seriously? Good question. I don’t think I have; I hate the idea of terrorizing someone on purpose like that. Does it count if I’ve been forced to say something to someone that I know will scare them, even if I didn’t want to scare them? It happened a couple of weeks ago when I had to tell my mom that Cooper bit my face and that it was bleeding everywhere.

have you ever had something taken away from you by airport security? I know my mom and I got stopped for a bit at Shanghai because she apparently had something in her bag that shouldn’t be there, but the language barrier was rough and we couldn’t figure out what it was they wanted us to take out. Anyway, eventually we found The Thing but I can’t for the life of me remember it anymore hahaha.

what’s the last wild animal you have seen? Idk...do birds count?

something you were surprised to learn about your parent’s childhood? That my dad’s family’s financial situation got super dire at one point that he was once sent home from school by the nuns in charge so they can explain to his parents that he could technically be kicked out, but because he was doing so well in school they were going to let him stay. Also, my mom’s family got robbed once and they managed to get their grand piano.

do you store any non food items in the fridge? Just face masks – the skincare type, hahaha. Funny how you have to clarify that now.

have you ever told a friend you thought their parent was hot? Not really hot but I have told a few friends that their mom is really pretty.

what was the last thing you bought from a gumball machine? how long ago was that? Well...a gumball hahaha. Not sure, must have been over a year ago.

have you ever destroyed another person’s belongings out of anger? I would never do that. Anger fades out; the things you say or do in the moment won’t.

plain band aids or fun ones? I never got the cartoon Band-Aids as a child so that’s what I stock up on these days to heal my inner child lmao. Just this weekend I got teddy-bear themed ones.

which pain killer do you use? Paracetamol.

have you ever used someone else’s Rx med? No.

have you ever borrowed underwear from a friend? Nah.

would you like to be part of a wedding party? Sure, I haven’t been to one since 2007 so I’m just waiting for one of my friends to get hitched lol so I can experience what weddings are like now.

last pair of shoes you threw out and why? My high-top Chucks; wasn’t wearing them anymore. have you ever thrown anything up to hang on the power/phone lines? I have no reason to do so.

have you ever really stayed up all night to do homework? I never cared all that much for school, so no. For work, latest I’ve stayed up was around 2 AM. I’d never pull an all-nighter for something that’s separate from my personal life.

have you ever had anything stolen from you? Yep.

if you could make up one rule for all your friends, what would it be? Idk, seems weird and dickish to make them follow something.

do you pay attention to people’s posture? Well, only if it’s noticeable enough I guess. do you have a creepy uncle, or have a friend who has one? Not when sober at least.

alarm clock, or do you use your phone? Phone. Never had an alarm clock. have you ever backed into a cactus? ouch! Nopes.

do any of your relatives not have home internet? It’s very unlikely.

when you get the munchies, do you want sweet or salty? Salty most of the time. something you taught yourself how to do? Read Korean. And basic embroidery.

[automatismoateo]

Washington Post: Why are we so tolerant of churchy bigotry? via /r/atheism

Washington Post: Why are we so tolerant of churchy bigotry?

Excerpt below.

Full article available here: https://www.washingtonpost.com/opinions/2023/03/06/religious-bigotry-lgbtq-homophobia/

By Kate Cohen Contributing columnist

When one of my kids was 12, he was invited to join an esteemed local choir, one of the crown jewels of Albany’s Episcopal Cathedral of All Saints. Although he was an atheist, he didn’t object to singing Christian music — years in children’s choruses and “holiday” concerts had accustomed him to that.

But as I, high on maternal pride, was calculating how I’d get him to two rehearsals a week, he asked me whether the church condoned same-sex marriage. I said I didn’t know. He said, well, if they didn’t, he wouldn’t join.

I checked: They most emphatically did not. When I told the choirmaster why my son was declining the invitation, he responded that progressive forces inside the church were working toward change. I wished him well. Even if their efforts succeeded, the change would no doubt arrive after my son’s tenure as an angel-voiced advertisement for a discriminatory institution.

Are you impressed by the moral clarity I expressed … after having been schooled by a seventh-grader?

I thought of this moment when I read that last month, Pensacola Christian College in Florida had disinvited the King’s Singers — an a cappella group visiting campus — two hours before their scheduled performance. The college canceled, it later said, “upon learning that one of the artists openly maintained a lifestyle that contradicts Scripture.” In other words, because one of its members was gay.

In fact, two are. The King’s Singers knew about the college’s position on homosexuality when they agreed to play there, but as they explained in an Instagram post: “Our belief is that music can build a common language that allows people with different views and perspectives to come together.”

It’s an extremely gracious statement. Yet I have to ask them, as I belatedly asked myself years ago: Why so tolerant of bigotry?

Are we just so accustomed to the anti-LGBTQ stances of conservative religious institutions that they don’t even register? Are we so used to church-sponsored homophobia that we ignore the vast, forbidding landscape of prejudice while celebrating the tiniest signs of change?

It made the news, for example, when Pope Francis told the Associated Press recently that homosexuality should not be criminalized, as it is in 67 countries, and urged bishops around the world to recognize everyone’s dignity. Amen.

He noted, however, that homosexuality is still a sin. The Catholic Church will keep calling it a sin, and urging sinners to repent, and it will keep refusing to recognize same-sex marriage or to condone adoption by same-sex parents, but in a way that also totally recognizes their dignity!

(Not for nothing: Where does the pope think those countries first got the idea that homosexuality should be a crime?)

In January, the Church of England apologized for its treatment of LGBTQ people while clarifying that such people would not be allowed to marry in the church. “For the times we have rejected or excluded you, and those you love, we are deeply sorry,” the pastoral letter reads. And for the times we will continue to reject or exclude you, we are so deeply sorry for those, too!

These official church statements represent genteel, soft-spoken prejudice in God’s name. For a more brutal version, take a look (if you can stomach it) at Hemant Mehta’s recent roundup of “Christian hate preachers,” each opining on video that gay people should be executed. It’s horrifying.

Of course, many progressive churches — and synagogues and mosques — welcome their LGBTQ siblings as full and equal members. And many that don’t yet will get there eventually.

The Episcopal Church, for example, now officially sanctions same-sex marriage. And the Albany diocese — well, it’s working on it. A statement on the Episcopal Church website notes: “As with all spiritual journeys, everyone walks at their own pace. Some Episcopal congregations are actively involved in LGBTQ ministry and their arms are open wide; others are more reserved, but their doors are still open to all; some are still wrestling with their beliefs and feelings.”

Fair enough, right?

Now, let’s pretend that instead of talking about LGBTQ people, the church was talking about congregations “wrestling with their beliefs and feelings” about Black people. Would our spirit of patient forbearance extend to that?

Not too long ago,

Submitted March 07, 2023 at 04:07AM by bitemy (From Reddit https://ift.tt/4bemGDP)

[mishafletcher]

Are you a Gold Star lesbian? (Just in case you don't know what it means, a Gold Star lesbian is a lesbian that has never had the sex with a guy and would never have any intentions of ever doing so)

So I got this ask a while ago, and I've been lowkey thinking about it ever since.

First: No. I am a queer, cranky dyke who is too old for this sort of bullshit gatekeeping. 

Second: What an unbelievable question to ask someone you don't even know! What an incomprehensibly rude thing to ask, as if you're somehow owed information about my sexual history. You're not! No one—and I can't reiterate this enough, but no one—owes you the details of their sex lives, of their trauma, or of anything about themselves that they don't feel like sharing with you.

The clickbait mills of the internet and the purity police of social media would like nothing more than to convince everyone that you owe these things to everyone. They would like you to believe that you have to prove that you're traumatized enough to identify with this character, that you can't sell this article about campus rape without relating it to your own sexual assault, that you can't talk about queer issues without offering up a comprehensive history of your own experiences, and none of those things are true. You owe people, and especially random strangers on the internet, nothing, least of all citations to somehow prove to them that you have the right to talk about your own life.

This makes some people uncomfortable, and to be clear, I think that that's good: people who feel entitled to demand this information should be uncomfortable. Refusing to justify yourself takes power away from people who would very much like to have it, people who would like to gatekeep and dictate who is permitted to speak about what topics or like what things. You don't have to justify yourself. You don't have to explain that you like this ship because this one character reminds you a bit of yourself because you were traumatized in a vaguely similar way and now— You don't have to justify your queerness by telling people about the best friend you had when you were twelve, and how you kissed, and she laughed and said it was good practice for when she would kiss boys and your stomach twisted and your mouth tasted like bile and she was the first and last girl you kissed, but— 

You don't owe anyone these pieces of yourself. They're yours, and you can share them or not, but if someone demands that you share, they're probably not someone you should trust.

Third: The idea of gold star lesbians is a profoundly bi- and trans- phobic idea, often reducing gender to genitals and the long, shared history of queer women of all identities to a stark, artificial divide where some identities are seen as purer or more valuable than others. This is bullshit on all counts.

There's a weird and largely artificial division between bisexuals and lesbians that seems to be intensifying on tumblr, and I have to say: I hate it. Bisexual women aren't failed lesbians. They're not somehow less good or less valid because they're attracted to [checks notes] people. Do you think that having sex with a man somehow changes them? What are you so worried about it for? I've checked, and having sex with a man does not, in fact, make your vagina grow teeth or tentacles. Does that make you feel better? Why is what other people are doing so threatening to you?

Discussions of gold star lesbians are often filled with tittering about hehe penises, which is unfortunate, since I know a fair few lesbians who have penises, and even more lesbians who've had sex with people, men and women alike, who have penises. I'm sorry to report that "I'm disgusted by a standard-issue human body part" is neither a personality nor anything to be proud of. I'm a dyke and I don't especially like men, but dicks are just dicks. You don't have to be interested in them, but a lot of people have them, and it doesn't make you less of a lesbian to have sex with someone who has a dick.

There's so much garbage happening in the world—maybe you haven't noticed, but things are kind of Not Great in a lot of places, and there's a whole pandemic thing that's been sort of a major buzzkill? How is this something that you're worried about? Make a tea, remind yourself that other people's genitalia and sexual history are none of your business, maybe go watch a video about a cute animal or something. 

Fourth: The idea of gold star lesbians is a shitty premise that argues that sexuality is better if it's always been clear-cut and straightforward—but it rarely is. We live in a very, very heterosexist culture. I didn’t have a word for lesbian until many years after I knew that I was one. How can you say that you are something when your mouth can’t even make the shape of it? The person you are at 24 is different to the person you are at 14, and 34, and 74. You change. You get braver. The world gets wider. You learn to see possibilities in the shadows you used to overlook. Of course people learn more about themselves as they age.

Also, many of us, especially those of us who grew up in smaller towns, or who are over the age of, say, 25, grew up in times and places where our sexuality was literally criminal.

Shortly after I graduated high school, a gay man in my state was sentenced to six months in jail. Why? Well, he’d hit on someone, and it was a misdemeanor to "solicit homosexual or lesbian activity", which included expressing romantic or sexual interest in someone who didn’t reciprocate. You might think, then, that I am in fact quite old, but you would be mistaken. The conviction was in 1999; it was overturned in 2002.

I grew up knowing this: the wrong thing said to the wrong person would be sufficient reason to charge me with a crime.

In the United States, the Defense of Marriage Act was passed in 1996, clarifying that according to the federal government, marriage could only ever be between one man and one woman. It also promised that even if a state were to legalize same-sex unions, other states wouldn't have to recognize them if they didn't want to. And wow, they super did not want to, because between 1998 and 2012, a whopping thirty states had approved some sort of amendment banning same-sex marriage.

Every queer person who's older than about 25 watched this, knowing that this was aimed at people like them. Knowing that these votes were cast by their friends and their families and their teachers and their employers. 

Some states were worse than others. Ohio passed their bill in 2004 with 62% approval. Mississippi passed theirs the same year with 86% approval. Imagine sitting in a classroom, or at work, or in a church, or at a family dinner, and knowing that statistically, at least two out of every three people in that room felt you shouldn't be allowed to marry someone you loved.

Matthew Shepard was tortured to death in October of 1998. For being gay, for (maybe) hitting on one of the men who had planned to merely rob him. Instead, he was tortured and left to die, tied to a barbed wire fence. His murderers were both sentenced to two consecutive life terms in prison. This was controversial, because a nonzero number of people felt that Shepard had brought it upon himself.

Many of us sat at dinner tables and listened to this discussion, one that told us, over and over, that we were fundamentally wrong, fundamentally undeserving of love or sympathy or of life itself.

This is a tiny, tiny sliver of history—a staggeringly incomplete overview of what happened in the US over about ten years. Even if this tiny sliver is all that there were, looking at this, how could you blame someone for wanting to try being not Like This? How can you fault someone who had sex, maybe even had a bunch of sex, hoping desperately that maybe they could be normal enough to be loved if they just tried harder? How can you say that someone who found themself an uninteresting but inoffensive boyfriend and went on dates and had sex and said that it was fine is somehow less valuable or less queer or less of a lesbian for doing so? For many people, even now, passing as straight, as problematic as that term is, is a survival skill. How dare you imply that the things that someone did to protect themself make them worth less? They survived, and that's worth literally everything.

Fifth, finally: What is a gold star, anyhow? You've capitalized it, like it's Weighty and Important, but it's not. Gold stars were what your most generous grade school teacher put on spelling tests that you did really well on. But ultimately, gold stars are just shiny scraps of paper. They don't have any inherent value: I can buy a thousand of them for five bucks and have them at my door tomorrow. They have only the meaning that we give them, only the importance that we give them. We’re not children desperately scrabbling for a teacher’s approval anymore, though. We understand that good and bad are more of a spectrum than a binary, and that a gold star is a simplification. We understand that no number of gold stars will make us feel like we’re special enough or good enough or important enough, or fix the broken places we can still feel inside ourselves. Only we can do that.

The stars are only shiny scraps of paper. They offer us nothing; we don’t need them. I hope that someday, you see that, too. 

[thecarnivorousmuffinmeta]

What would a cw adaptation of Harry Potter look like?

Having not watched too many cw shows myself (I just hear about their nonsense), I phoned @therealvinelle who made the poor life choices of having watched much more of The Vampire Diaries than I have and watching any Supernatural.

The following is her beautiful response:

So for starters, we merge Snape and Tom's characters. This is because Snape isn't hot, and because Tom needs to be near the kids. Tom still looks like Tom Riddle, and he's a teacher who seduces Hermione. At no point are any thoughts about the fact that he's a teacher sleeping with a student had

Harry is a blond now, and he's also dating Hermione. A love triangle ensues, one where Tom will hover sexily but dangerously in empty classrooms and make vague threats that Hermione find very sexually arousing.

The love triangle is the focal point of this show.

Voldemort is Tom's evil alter ego, who killed Harry's parents over that prophecy. He wants to kill Harry as well, but it's not the season finale yet so he's not actually doing anything about it. Too busy seducing Hermione.

Instead he just does vaguely sinister things, like release a basilisk that Harry heroically saves Hermione from.

He every so often has charged conversations with McGonagall (Who has been aged down and is in her thirties. She's still considered ancient), implying they had an affair once.

Harry and Hermione piece together that Tom and Voldemort aRe ThE sAmE pErSoN.

(Piece together meaning that Dumbledore, who only appeared in the second half of the first season and the show never bothers to clarify what his job actually is, gets a focal episode where he tells them the story of Tom Riddle through flashbacks. Terrible flashback wigs and costumes galore.)

Tom will later, in season 3 where he goes full woobie and we learn that none of his evil deeds were ever his fault, reveal that there's more to the story. That orphanage he grew up in? It was a special school for muggle-borns where they trained a future wizarding militia. Tom was the only one who broke free of their oppressive regime. The other children... GREW UP TO BECOME THE ORDER OF THE PHOENIX.

But I'm skipping how season 1 ended. The answer is that Hermione disavowed Tom in the season 1 finale since he was evil, he was too sexy bad boy to care except subtle wigglings of his eyebrow told the captive Tomione-shipping audience that he did in fact care. Harmione shippers think they're all delusional. She then jumped into Harry's arms.

Which was poor decision making on her end, because in season 2 Harry joins the dark side. This lasts for half a season, mostly because the arc featured so much filler. Tom, who was imprisoned in season 1, becomes Hermione's supportive pen pal through this ordeal and she starts to wonder if maybe there's good in him after all.

Sirius Black is introduced, he's a lawyer living in the Muggle world and he was in love with Lily. We get a flashback showing us how sad Sirius was when she married James, and there is buildup for an arc where Harry's paternity will be questioned. This arc is scrapped, and Sirius is written out of the show altogether, never to be mentioned again.

Ginny gets pregnant by Neville. Neville dies tragically shortly afterwards, killed by Harry because Harry is a dark wizard now. This is actually the spinoff door episode to the new show the CW is trying to launch, "The Weasleys".

Neville's death has no real consequences, Harry returns to the light and is forgiven in time to become the child's godfather.

Oh, and can't believe I forgot: they've all been aged up to 17.

End of season 2, Tom escapes prison.

Season 3, we get the whole "DUMBLEDORE is the real villain!" arc. Tom killing Harry's parents in season 1 is forgotten, the show doesn't outright retcon it but it doesn't want the viewers to remember it either.

Hermione is once again in a love triangle, only this time Tom and Harry have both done bad things (but we'll only bring up the 2 bad things Harry did (killed Neville and said a mean thing to Hermione) and none of the 282985204592 bad things Tom did) so Hermione has a hard time.

Hermione also discovers that she's a uniquely powerful witch. She has the power to make windows shatter, candles flicker, and wind blow all about. Everyone is frightfully impressed with this.

Mid-season 3 finale, Dumbledore destroys Tom's body. It's terribly dramatic, but then turns out to only be a mild inconvenience as he is resurrected four episodes later. He's resurrected by Hermione's window shattering powering, she closed her eyes very intensely and bam, he's back.

We learn about the horcruxes, which by themselves are shockingly similar to the horcruxes of the original books. The big change, however, is that this Tom didn't know he had horcruxes, those evil bastards at the orphanage split his soul in the night through ominous rituals (another flashback here). He has no idea where this other half of his soul is.

Season finale, we learn that Hermione is in fact his horcrux. This is why they had so much in common (they don't have anything in common) and why she got through his bad boy persona (he hasn't been a bad boy since season 1!). They were soulmates this whole time!

Harry despairs in the face of this, and he and Hermione have a teary conversation where she confirms that yes, the Tomione shippers won.

He also has a pleasant conversation with Tom, as a bromance has bloomed between the two.

Alas. The episode ends on a cliffhanger, as the door flings open dramatically. Dumbledore walks in, bearing proof that Tom made an Unbreakable Vow to always serve the Order, a Vow that was obliviated from him. He drags Tom kicking and screaming away from a crying Hermione, the season ends with her resolve to find a way to save him.

(Sorry, I'm on a roll here)

Season 4, a year later. Harry and Hermione have been searching ever since Tom disappeared. They've become closer than ever, but apart from three or four moments of extreme sexual tension per episode, Hermione is Faithful™

News of Tom's terrorist actions as an Order member reach them with regular intervals. Hermione remains convinced that he's being forced to do all this and doesn't actually want to hurt anybody, Harry's not so sure.

They catch up to him in Minneapolis (did I mention this entire show takes place in the states? All the actors are American.) and he tells them to stop trying to save him. Hermione, devastated, takes this to mean he never loved her, he was only ever a psychopath playing with her feelings. She tells him as much, and Tom confirms, yeah, he's a cold-hearted son of a bitch (Harry's favorite insult for him).

They break up, and Hermione gets back with Harry. They return to their home city in North Dakota.

At the very end of that same episode, Tom is able to visit Harry for 15 seconds in the form of a specter and very dramatically tell him how he does love Hermione but he's not good for her, better to make a clean break, yada yada. DON'T LOOK FOR ME.

Harry agrees, sure no problem, he can do that. Just one noble bro to another.

Tom nods, thanks for having sex with my girl while I rot in hell, bro.

It is in this same season premier episode that the show introduces the Blacks. Remember Sirius Black? Yeah, this is sexy family.

They become instant fan favorites, and one of them is shipped with Tom (the fans now hate both Harry and Hermione).

Pandering as always, the show lets said character run into Tom. And it's not Bellatrix, oh no. It's Athena, a CW original Black. She's indistinguishable from the original Bellatrix and it's unclear why she's not just Bellatrix.

Tom is ordered to kill her, but they have a moment of truly intense eye contact so he only injures her (the killing curse doesn't exist in this show. Don't ask how Harry got his scar. No really, don't ask, the show never explained it). Shippers go wild.

Tom is eventually able to break free of the Unbreakable Vow through the power of true love (book fans are sobbing, this show gets nothing right), and he returns to Hermione, begs her to take him back. She rebuffs him, and he goes to get drunk at a bar. This is where Narcissa (aged down to 25) finds him. They have sex.

He has a brief fling with her, only to get into a more serious relationship with Athena. This leads to Hermione getting jealous.

We're now dealing with a love pentagon, of sorts. Harry and Tom love Hermione, Tom also loves Athena, Narcissa wants Harry but she has undeniable sexual chemistry with Tom.

The show descends into back-and-forth-ing, and does not get renewed.

The end.

POST SCRIPT:

The oddly popular side character that the CW never wanted to be popular at all and keeps having to make mysteriously vanish for half a season so that the plot(?) can avoid being derailed is Draco.

He's super competent but the show will never admit that.

Later, Athena plays this same role.

- @therealvinelle

[honeyxmonkey]

I've always had the hc that Douxie can do something akin to siren magic where he can entrance someone/s with his voice by channeling magic into his singing

Honestly anytime you have a magic character associated with music I'll throw this siren thing at them XD

When Douxie uses the siren voice, his voice gets very melodic and echoey, just very enchanting to listen to that even people who the spell isn't directed at will start drifting towards him, wanting to be closer to hear it better

And sometimes even he can get lost in the music and not realize the spell is affecting his friends

So he doesn't do it often

The song often affects the listener in a way where they'll be, for lack of a better word, completely head over heels and wanting to do anything for the singer

Lil moppet douxie is just singing one day, absent-mindedly so as he does his chores, not realizing how his singing is affecting the people around him. He looks up to see that he's gathered a small crowd of people, Merlin, Morgana, Gwen, a few maids and they're all listlessly standing around, eyes glazed over as if they're in a trance.

Douxie, horrified, clamps his mouth shut and the spell breaks. He's so terrified of himself, that he did that without even thinking, that he'd too scared to say anything when Merlin asks him what happened. He's too scared to use his voice in fear of what it'll do to them again

One day, Douxie has no other choice than to use his voice in that way he really hates doing it because he hates taking away someone else's control over themselves but he needs to so his friends can live so he steps out in front, standing in front of the group protectively, taking a deep breath.

Archie knows what he's about to do and says, "I'd cover your ears."

And then Douxie begins to sing. His voice floats through the air, gently taking hold of their enemy, luring them into a false sense of security and the enemy they're fighting becomes listless and relaxed.

Before his voice can really do any damage to the team, they wisely cover their ears, all except Steve who wasn't quick enough and is now listening with the same glazed over expression

Douxie feeds more magic into his voice, singing of peaceful sleep and starry night skies and one by one, the army of enemies begin to drop, lulled to sleep by the siren song. Steve also passes out and him falling startles Douxie who falters for a moment, horror passing over his face at seeing his friend so affected by him. Archie gives him a nod of encouragement and Douxie picks the song back up before their enemies can shake off the siren spell

Sometimes Douxie will accidentally use his siren voice but like, it's so brief that it barely has time to work on anyone. He's just vibing, belting out a Disney song or something and then he notices his magic is working and almost immediately he closes his mouth and takes a moment to compose himself. It's so hard to remember to keep a lid on his siren magic sometimes. It's not like his other magic, this sort of siren magic just starts working on its own sometimes.

Claire pops her head into his room to make sure he's okay because he stopped singing so abruptly and the team had kinda been enjoying the show tunes.

Douxie shakily reassures her that he's fine. She isn't convinced he is

One time, the team is having a karaoke night and they have to beg douxie to join them, reassuring that they trust him and that he's gotten so good at controlling his magic.

Douxie reluctantly agrees and when it's his turn to sing, the anxiety pooling in his stomach only grows worse when he starts to sing. He can feel his magic wanting to spill into his voice, but he forces it down. This is supposed to be a night of fun with his friends, not a place for magic. He gets more confident as time passes and soon he's smiling as he sings and when he's done, the whole team is staring at him with these enraptured smiles.

"Yall good?" He asks slowly.

"Oh we're fine!" Toby reassures. "You just have a really good voice, even without all the spooky siren stuff"

The laugh they share lifts a lot of weight off his shoulders

I had this other idea where he could literally channel so much magic into his voice that he can do something like the canary cry if yall don't know what that is just Google black canary 👍 and basically he could demolish a targeted object/person with just his voice

He... doesn't know about this ability until he accidentally destroys a small row of trees after a particularly loud scream cause he got le ✨stabbed✨

Steve was watching and he just watched the guy who stabbed his friend get blasted back by this invisible force and he's like, "haha neat"

Literally just a straight row of forest going back about 3 yards has been completely demolished

Even douxie seems to have no idea what just happened but he's bleeding out and disoriented so there's no time for questions, just run back to town for a ✨hospital✨

Steve didn't know if it was Douxie's usual magic tricks or... something else

Douxie: I am ✨dying✨

Steve: PLS SOMEONE HELP HES GONE LOOPY

Douxie: if anyone needs to know my blood type is... red. [straight up passes out]

While Douxie's in recovery, Steve tells everyone what happened in the forest and they're all kinda in this shocked silence cause usually if it was normal douxie magic there would've been some sort of blue light involved but Steve confirmed that there was no light it just... happened. There was no visible magic, Douxie just screamed and suddenly half the forest was demolished and the guy who stabbed him was crashing through a dozen a trees

So yeah

I want to clarify also that it's his voice that literally has magical properties and its very difficult to turn off or control so it's a gamble whenever he sings or sometimes even talks but he eventually learns to control it to a degree, and then his friends help him get full control over it!

This is sort of what I imagine Douxie's siren voice to vibe like with the echo and everything and it just be in general very enchanting

Douxie casually breaking out some Disney showtunes but his voice fucking sounds like this. Literally everyone stops to listen cause holy shit

But his singing voice specifically always has magic in it, the echo is just more noticeable depending on how much he's suppressing or feeding the magic

The first time Merlin heard him singing was when Moppet was just vibing, doing chores, and humming a lil tune under his breath but it just started to get this hauntingly enchanting echo the longer he sang and that's when Merlin knew... this boy was different, special, dangerous without the proper guidance

One time moppet was just vibing, singing his lil tune while he cleaned up and without noticing, he accidentally started enchanting items to help him clean up. His voice is literally strong enough to enchant inanimate objects without him even trying

Merlin walks in and goes to start his lecture but Douxie immediately slams a hand over his mouth, the items dropping to the ground, tears pricking at the boy's eyes. Merlin sighs, gently placing a hand on his shoulder.

"Hisirdoux, it's okay."

Douxie looks at him, lips pursed into a thin line. For goodness sake the boy didn't even want to speak.

"Hisirdoux, its nothing to be afraid of."

"I wasn't... I wasn't even trying to do that, Master." The boy whispered, clearly trying to shove down his tears.

"I know, you'll get control of it, Hisirdoux. I know you will." Merlin awkwardly pats his shoulder. "You're stronger than you know."

AND THEN

Douxie just had like, this outburst of magic one day and accidentally enchanted people just by speaking to them and he goes running to Merlin to try and tell him what's happening but he doesn't want to speak so it turns into a really long game of charades

Eventually Morgana figures out what he's trying to tell them XD

One time Ms. Janeth heard him singing and she begged him to join the school's musical theater group she didn't care that he wasn't even a student. Douxie politely declined, not wanting to be the reason hundreds of teenagers and parents and teachers were suddenly under a siren spell

So.... yeah!

Siren Douxie my beloved

This will absolutely now be a canon thing for literally all and anything I write that's Douxie related, peace and crackers

[bookofmirth]

I saw your recent response to an anon where you mentioned the drama that occurred the other day based around bookprofessor’s post. Obviously you don’t have to respond to this or publish it if you do not wish but I just wanted to bring up that while it is important to focus on the real life issues at hand, the OP was hypocritical in her post which is why people were getting upset. She was preaching against ableism while simultaneously flaunting her IQ and degree which is a form of ableism. She was speaking out against racism while ending her post using the racial slur “cracker” when talking about the possibly Caucasian Twitter elriels.

Obviously she had some important points but it was completely overshadowed by her participation in the hate speech and prejudice that she was speaking out against.

This does not in any way justify the nasty messages she received but on the same hand, I do not blame anyone that called her out for her hypocrisy. I hope you can understand why her post was so negatively received and how flawed it was. My hope is that one day everyone can just ignore the negativity, report those who are being racist/prejudiced in any way, and block those who are just being loud and who you don’t wish to see content from. But unfortunately I do not see that happening any time soon.

There are a few things I want to address in this because I think it's a good moment for the fandom to step back and reflect on how we treat one another, how we react to such issues, and how we behave moving forward.

First off, thanks for explaining your point of view without being antagonistic. I do think that everyone's emotional reactions to the post were valid. I do NOT think their responses, in terms of words and actions, were valid. Now before I move forward, I want to clarify that when I use the word "you", I am referring to anyone who may have had the response I am describing - not you personally, anon. Also please don’t freak out about how long this is, as a majority of it is a response to the fandom in general, not you in particular.

What was - and wasn’t - said in the original post

In this post, there were completely valid criticisms of the way that people in this fandom behave, and it wasn’t “generalizing” a certain group, it was literal, actual proof of things that had been said, by multiple people. I’m not going to get too into what Alyssa argued because her critiques of those tweets was flawless. The original post had very valid criticisms of what was happening on Twitter. Alyssa exposed the actually racist, homophobic, and imperialistic underpinnings of those tweets.

However, a lot of people are stuck on the bits before and after those critiques. @bookprofessor apologized for different aspects of her post in a few different asks. There were perhaps better ways that some of those things could have been phrased, some things that could have been left out. And she apologized. People can accept that apology or not but we can’t act like it didn’t happen. Like she didn’t reflect and learn to do better.

However, the people she was calling out have not done the same thing, and if anything, comments that focus more on Alyssa’s tone than why she wrote the post in the first place lets those people off the hook.

On cracker - Using the word "cracker" is not racist in the same way that using racial slurs against POC is. Is it prejudiced? Yes. But you cannot say that it is the same thing when that is demonstrably untrue, given centuries of oppressive history. No one has been oppressed for being white. Those are not the same. Reverse racism is not a thing because a white person punching down on POC is NOT AT ALL the same thing as a POC punching up at white people. The actions look the same, but the impact is so unequal it’s not even funny.

Racism is a systemic, institutionalized problem. It is not defined by individual actions, though those actions can either support or challenge racism. When someone calls a white person a cracker, there isn’t centuries of oppression giving power to and reinforcing that statement. That is not a “gotcha” moment.

Saying “I have x IQ” or “I have X degrees” is not ableist. I’m sorry to whoever told you it was ableist (again, not you specifically anon but people who had read the “aw shucks guys” vagueblogs about it), but it’s not. Those are facts. I have no idea what my IQ is, but I have five degrees from institutions of higher education. Me saying that is in no way ableist. 

Often, people mention those things to be elitist, yes. Sometimes, they can be used to say “hey I know more about this than you”. They can be used in a way that tries to make themselves feel superior. I suspect that this is the impression that a lot of people got of the post. However, there is a fine line between saying “hey that’s elitist” and professing anti intellectualism. Which is perhaps a side issue so I’ll let that go for now.

Another reason that people mention their degrees or qualifications is to establish their background knowledge and credibility. If I were to say “hey y’all I have two MA degrees” (which is true) I am not being ableist! It is a fact! It is factual! And I worked my ass off for those, I will be in student loan debt until I die for those, I have every right to mention them if I want to, and often I do so in order to establish my credibility, to explain the position I am coming from. And my prior knowledge of these topics is relevant when we are talking about literature since that’s what my degrees were on - literature and linguistics. That is why Alyssa mentioned her background, though she did pair it with comments about other people, for which she has apologized.

My final point about this is that I 1000% understand feeling insecure or less than because of educational attainment. I dropped out of high school. I had a complex about that for a long, long time. But I also know that if I took offense at someone else saying they had a PhD, then that offense is about me, not them. Someone else’s inferiority complex is not reason for people to pretend to be less than they are.

If those two comments are what overshadowed the bigger, more important issue for a lot of the readers of that post, then y’all allowed them to overshadow those more important issues. I am 99% sure that someone right now is reading this and thinking “but Leslie, it was the way that she said it!” Boy have I got some news for you!

How we react

This next section is not specific to this ask; instead, it is a discussion of how the fandom responded. If it were only one person who had said “but her tone” then I wouldn’t need to make this point. The fact that multiple people are exhibiting the behavior explained below is what makes this a cultural problem within the acotar fandom.

The main argument I saw on the post itself, and indeed any time I see people bring up how nasty Twitter can be, is that “it was a joke” and “that’s how stan Twitter works”.

No.

Those responses were quite useful for this post, though! So buckle up everyone, because I am going to talk about gaslighting, racism, respectability politics, and tone policing. While I understand that some people might have taken personal offense to what was said, there is a much bigger issue at stake that has nothing to do with individual feelings, and everything to do with ensuring that POC stay silenced and white supremacy is upheld. 

Back to the “but it’s a joke” thing. Thanks for gaslighting! Great example of that, person I’m not going to tag! Gaslighting is when you make someone question their experiences, when you try to make them think “wait, did I really feel that way? Is my feeling about that valid? Do I need to re-evaluate my response to this?? Am I blowing this out of proportion???” And saying “it’s just a joke” is a perfect way to do that. Did I say something accidentally sexist? It’s just a joke, nbd! Now you’re the problem, because you didn’t understand my joke and laugh!!! 

Saying “it’s a joke” or “oh they are old/young/ignorant, they will learn” is not a good response to... anything. It takes the responsibility off the people who are doing the harm, and putting it onto the people who were hurt. And in this case, anyone who read those tweets and found them harmful (which should be everyone?) is completely valid. You aren’t lesser for being angry or emotional or for seeing a problem where other people saw a joke. The people who see those things as acceptable jokes are the ones in the wrong.

This is a tactic that is used against women all the time. Any time a woman is sexually harassed at work or online, for example, and she gets upset about it, and someone chimes in with “oh they weren’t serious, can’t you take a joke?” So you can imagine what this is like for women of color.

It is a very, very common tactic for people of color to be silenced via tone policing and respectability politics. Tone policing and respectability politics are very closely related, especially in this context. The idea is that if Alyssa had just written that post in just the right way, it would have been more palatable to white people, and therefore okay to write. The idea that if she had tried to be “understanding” or “see it from their perspective” or understand that it’s “just a joke” are all ways to silence and de-legitimize any accurate, valid criticisms that were made of those tweets. It effectively re-routes the conversation away from the real issues, and to the person trying to bring them up. It’s essentially an ad hominem attack in disguise. 

We see respectability politics in media when people of color who act or dress or speak like white people are afforded more respect. Or any time that a person of color is pulled over and people say, “well if they had just done what the police officer asked...” There is a pervasive idea that if people just “act” properly, aka if you act white, then the police won’t feel antagonized and try to kill arrest you. If we are nice enough, meek enough, smile enough, etc. then we will be accepted.

When we tone police, we refuse to allow marginalized people the right to be angry. We say that "hey, we can only have this discussion if you leave emotion, which you rightfully feel, at the door, and we can only continue this discussion if you behave in a way that makes me feel comfortable." But guess what? It isn’t about you! These discussions are often highly uncomfortable. There is no nice way to tell someone they are being racist. And yet somehow, that is the ever-moving goalpost. It seems reasonable, right? “Just be civil, be nice, don’t insult each other!” And there is that. But those criteria change constantly, to the point where anyone (white) at any time can say “WHOA WHOA THIS IS MAKE ME UNCOMFORTABLE???” Then we find ourselves at zero, and suddenly the focus of attention has shifted away from the actual problem.

Before we go further, I want to say this: people have a right to be angry. They do not need to make their anger palatable or tasteful for the consumption of others (read: white people). 

We saw this last summer, and I’m not sure how the message didn’t get across. But people are rightfully angry about racism. They are angry about the murder of people of color by police, they are angry about lack of quality education, or clean water, of centuries of oppression that have led to this very moment when all of that ceases to matter because a white woman’s feelings got hurt one time. 

And that is what pisses me off so much. There is no way in this world that we could criticize tweets like those that everyone would agree with, and that everyone would “approve” of, that would be “nice” enough and yet still be impactful and make the authors of those tweets understand the gravity of what they have done. 

The least we can do is allow one another to express our anger, our outrage, because it’s highly likely that those people know exactly what the fuck they are doing, and they do not fucking care. By criticizing a woman of color for the way in which she chose to engage with this topic, we are avoiding the issue and letting the people in those tweets off the hook. 

There were many responses to that post that were positive, that agreed with Alyssa. There are a ton of people who disagree with those tweets, who find them disgusting, who understand exactly how and why they are problematic. That should be what we are talking about. Getting to the core of the argument, on that post or any about racism or other problematic behavior in fandom, requires getting past our own egos. It requires us to be able to step back, say “hm this thing is frustrating but there is a bigger picture here”. It’s not easy, and I recognize that. 

The fact that it is a common tactic though? To say “hey this hurt me personally and so I’m going to ignore any valid points you made?” That feeds directly into centuries of white supremacy because it, once again, silences POC and makes them try to play a losing game. And they will always lose, because no matter how hard they try to play the white game, the goalposts are constantly shifting. So you know what? Fuck the game, and fuck respectability politics, and fuck tone policing and “uwu be nice guys” because when it comes to things like racism and sexism, I don’t expect the people who deserve to be criticized to be nice. In fact, trying to be nice only serves to fuck POC over in the end.

Indeed, in response to that post, certain blogs have taken the opportunity to position themselves as “the nice ones” or “the ones who would never” or “uwu let’s be nice guys” while completely ignoring the fact that a woman of color was attacked for calling out racism. And yes - that was the point of her post. People getting hung up on mentions of her degree are (intentionally or not, it doesn’t matter) completely obfuscating the fact that that is not what her post was about, which was to call out disgusting behavior. idk how many words the post actually was, but essentially, people are focusing on 5% of it to the detriment of the 95% that was actually really important shit. These types of vagueblog posts about the issue fall into exactly what I am talking about - these are people who have decided to look at this issue, see how Alyssa (and anyone else who dares speak up) has approached it, and intentionally try to act like they are “better” because they can be “rational” and “kind”. Newsflash, if you don’t have something to be angry about, then being “nice” about racism isn’t that much of a flex. If it didn’t bother you, then congratulations. That doesn’t make you better than people it did bother. You just got lucky this time, and decided to use that to your advantage to look like the good guy.

I am not saying that all calls for peace are doing this. Obviously it’s what we all want. This is the worst I have seen this fandom in the 4+ years I’ve been here. But we cannot have that by ignoring the real problems and pretending that if we are all just nice to each other, then we will solve racism and sexism and all bullying in the fandom will stop. 

So combining all of this - the gaslighting, the tone policing, and what do you get? You get a fandom that refuses to actually engage critically with its own problems and take accountability for them. You get a fandom that decides that it’s easier to be distracted by this one mean comment over here than it is to engage in the fact that you know what, the culture in this fandom has actually turned incredibly disgusting and a lot of people are just okay with it. You’ve got a fandom that is using the tools of white supremacy to avoid the discussions that should actually be taking place. Maybe people don’t realize that that’s what they are doing. But if someone still thinks that after reading this post, then godspeed my friend, I hope you enjoy Twitter.

Okay so my last thing I want to say is that I didn’t come to all of this knowledge fresh from the womb. I do a lot of work, in my personal life and my professional life, to be better. So here is a list of books that I have found particularly helpful:

How to Be An Antiracist by Ibram X. Kendi

Stamped From the Beginning: The Definitive History of Racist Ideas in America also by Ibram X. Kendi

White Fragility: Why It’s So Hard for White People to Talk About Racism by Robin DiAngelo (side note, I was kinda meh about this one but the chapter “White Women’s Tears” is particularly helpful)

So You Want to Talk About Race by Ijeoma Oluo

Black Feminist Thought: Knowledge, Consciousness, and the Politics of Empowerment by Patricia Hill Collins

I’m not going to talk specifically about Alyssa’s post anymore, but if anyone wants to continue talking about these broader issues going on in the fandom, I am game. (I really should be grading papers though, so it might take a bit.)

[just-come-baek]

body rhythm

Pairing: Taeyong x reader | mentions of Seulgi x Irene | mentions of Johnny x almost everybody

Themes: smut | fluff | dance!au 

Word count: 14.8k

Summary: Taeyong and Seulgi participate in a nationwide dance competition. However, due to unfortunate scheduling, she has to drop out of it, suggesting you, out of all people, fill in. Taeyong isn't pleased with how things manage to fall out of place, but he is in no position to be whiny about it. For him, it's either learn to work with you or lose yet another time to his arch-enemy.

Warnings: a moderate amount of fluff | Johnny flirting with everybody in plain sight | Johnny stalks people out on social media | cursing | Doyoung being a huge dick | Doyoung flexing his hips | reader has inappropriate thoughts about Taeil | Taeyong being very demanding dance teacher | stressfull situations | drinking | reader is kind of bratty and Taeyong finds it really frustrating | frustrated/angry making out | as per smut | oral!female receiving | unprotected sex (never try it at home or else Imma tell your parents) | they kinda fuck in the open and kinda check our their refection in the mirror |

A/N it's my entry for song association event, I hope you like it, and also don't forget to check out other entries ^^ they must be all out by now lol

“Are you ready?” Johnny inquired as he set his fourth coffee of the day on his desk and plopped onto the swivel chair in a cubicle next to mine. It was a really long day at work, and we both had trouble sitting through the end of it. Heaving a deep sigh, I looked at the pile of documents that required my attention, groaning before I sprawled across my workspace.

“I thought it’s canceled tonight,” I spoke as I looked at my wristwatch, wincing when I realized there was still one more hour until Johnny and I could finally clock out.

A few months ago, our lovely firm, instead of giving us a well-deserved raise, had decided to provide us with a variety of extra activities. Though I’d rather get some monetary benefits, together with Johnny, we chose dance classes. Our company was paying for it, so we might’ve as well attended.

Ever since then, every Thursday, we would go to a dance class to sweat out all of the pent-up frustration. I didn’t have plenty of expectations, still bitter after the company’s decision, but the dance class turned out amazing. Seulgi was our teacher, and although she was a bit demanding, she was patient enough to teach us some sick moves. If that didn’t scream talent™, I had no idea what did.

“Well… last week, she said she might be absent today, but I got a text from school that someone will fill in,” Johnny spoke matter-of-factly. I sighed, checking my phone, reading the same text message from the studio. I really didn’t have energy for dance classes, but there was no way Johnny would let me skip.

“Do you want to grab a drink after? I think I need one, or a few,” I proposed as I sat back in my chair, trying to let my eyes rest from the computer’s screen.

“Does a bear shit in the woods?” Johnny asked rhetorically, smiling at me as if I just read his mind. It was almost Friday at this point, and we deserved a little treat.

Though it felt like an eternity, the clock finally struck 5 p.m., letting us leave our claustrophobic cubicles. Tomorrow we would come back for another dose of torture, but right now, we were free. Only for a few hours, though.

Quickly, I returned home to get my gym bag. Thankfully, I lived within walking distance from both – my office and the dance studio, so it wasn’t as troublesome to commute as it was for Johnny, who got stuck in traffic almost every day.

A few minutes before the dance class, I was already changed into my gym attire, waiting for Johnny. Though no one was texting me, I stared at my phone, furiously typing away. Moon Taeil, also known as my secret crush, was leaning against the wall on the other side of the corridor, and I tried every single trick my mind could come up with not to look desperate.

“At this point, he must think you hate him,” Johnny commented as he conjured in front of me out of nowhere. “You should hit on him instead of trying to bolt every time he approaches you,” he added, and I rolled my eyes at his yet another one shitty advice.

“Can you remind me why I don’t take dating advice from you?”

“Why are you attacking me? I just wanted to help. There’s no need to get so aggressive,” Johnny defended his case, not really answering my question. Johnny was a self-proclaimed love expert, but to me, he was more of a pathological playboy. Either way, he seemed to understand the secrets of flirtation to pick up girls whenever he set his mind to it.

“I am just trying not to be obvious,” I commented, stealing a glance at Taeil. It was a silly crush, and though Johnny encouraged me to go for it, I never decided to act on my feelings. Taeil probably didn’t feel this way about me, so remaining idle actually saved me embarrassment after an inevitable rejection.

“Speaking of which, I figured out why Seulgi is so resistant to my charms,” Johnny announced proudly, and I raised my eyebrow, waiting for the big reveal. Everybody in our group knew that Johnny was attracted to Seulgi, but every time he tried to approach her, she would brush him off.

“By figured out, you mean you stalked her, right?” I commented when Johnny handed me his phone, showing me Seulgi’s profile. According to what Johnny dug out in social media, Seulgi was getting married to Irene – her girlfriend of five years. “Huh,” I mused as I gave him back his phone, trying not to laugh at him. Seulgi was already madly in love with someone else, no wonder she could resist his charm.

“Call it whatever you want,” Johnny started, putting his phone away. “Just don’t hold me down when FBI finally recruits me for my impeccable detective skills,” he argued, and I laughed as I imagined him leaving our lovely company. That would be a shame; I couldn’t imagine anyone else sitting in the cubicle next to mine.

“The room should be open,” someone hollered, mentioning for us to open the doors and get inside. I had seen him a few times around the school, so I deduced he must’ve been our substitute teacher today.

Once everybody took their spot on the dance floor, the man cleared his throat. “Hello everybody, my name is Taeyong. Together with Seulgi, we run this school, and I hope we will have a lot of fun today with new choreography,” he announced politely with a practiced professionalism. Perhaps Taeyong didn’t seem as cool as Seulgi, but we had to give him a chance to prove us wrong.

Taeyong was intimidating. I wouldn’t want to be left alone with him. When he showed us a few moves, he was immensely focused on delivering one hundred percent. It was impressive and admirable, but at the same, Taeyong gave off a scary fierce aura. Though he was a great dancer and teacher, Seulgi was just better.

“I think I have a heart attack,” I panted, gasping for air. The new choreography required lots of jumping, and I didn’t expect so much cardio today. I wasn’t out of shape; however, after dancing to Taeyong’s choreography, I had some doubts.

“We should’ve skipped,” Johnny commented, bending over with his palms on his knees, supporting his huge body. Taeyong’s dance routine was too much for us, and we weren’t the only people struggling to breathe. Thankfully, next week Seulgi would be back.

***

“You’re not gonna believe this,” Johnny announced, craning his neck to look inside my cubicle. Heaving a sigh, I put my pen down, giving him my full attention.

This better be good.

“What is it? Who are you stalking this time?” I inquired, giving him the attitude. Johnny was spending too much time on his phone during working hours, but I couldn’t really frown upon it because I often caught myself doing the same thing.

“First of all, I thought we agreed to call it researching, not stalking,” Johnny clarified, and I rolled my eyes. “And second of all, it’s Seulgi. She and the other guy from the dance studio qualified for some dance competition. Check this out,” Johnny explained, handing me his phone.

Seulgi and Taeyong rocked the stage. Though I had nothing to compare their performance to, they just oozed charisma, uniqueness, nerve, and talent. Without any shred of doubt, they would make it to the grand finale.

“Wow,” I mused, not sure how to appropriately respond. I was happy for their success; after all, their performance was broadcasted during prime time on national television. At this point, Seulgi and Taeyong were celebrities.

“I can’t wait for today’s class,” Johnny added in excitement, hiding his phone away inside the pocket of his jacket. “I have to congratulate her.”

“Them. You have to congratulate them,” I corrected Johnny as he seemed to forget about Seulgi’s dance partner. It wasn’t a solo competition, so both Seulgi and Taeyong deserved praise. “And as if you’ve forgotten, Seulgi is not and will never be interested in you. You gotta let this one go, man,” I added, hoping Johnny would stop his relentless flirting with Seulgi. Though it was funny at the beginning, it was evident Seulgi would appreciate it if he stopped.

“I am all over her. Trust me,” Johnny reassured me, and I let out a shallow sigh, wanting to believe him. “Do you know Wendy from the HR department? I think I’m gonna ask her out. I am all over Seulgi,” he added, and it actually convinced me. Although Johnny didn’t seek anything serious at this point in his life, and when something didn’t go according to his plan, he would shake it off and forget all about it.

“Ok, I believe you,” I said, giving him a genuine smile. “Oh, and I was thinking… how about some beer and chicken after dance classes today? I’ve been craving them the whole day,” I offered, and Johnny enthusiastically nodded. It did sound like a solid plan.

Thankfully, this week Seulgi was back, and everybody appreciated it. Taeyong was a great teacher, but we were a group of beginners, and it was difficult for us to follow his routine. We just weren’t ready for such complex choreography.

Everybody had so much fun today. At first, we practiced some old routines, working on synchronization. Later on, Seulgi taught us a few new moves, which I recognized from her television performance. Admittedly, they weren’t as difficult as they looked. Maybe it was a little bold of me, but I was thinking I was doing a pretty good job today.

At the very end of the class, Johnny delivered a dramatic congratulatory speech, making people laugh out of utter cringe. It was a nice gesture, and Seulgi’s embarrassment was adorable. She would cover her blushed cheeks and turn around, hoping the ground could swallow her up. In all honesty, it seemed to be the only way to shut up Johnny.

Just when we were about to be dismissed, I heard someone calling my name. Surprisingly, it was Seulgi. She must’ve wanted to discuss something with me. Damn it, was she going to scold me for not improving? Or was it because I sat half of the song out? I just needed a short break; I had no idea it would get me in trouble.

“I am sorry,” I apologized even though I wasn’t sure what for yet. Seulgi would enlighten me in a second, so I cleared my throat to apologize to her once again. However, when she giggled instead of yelling at me, I furrowed my eyebrows in confusion.

“I’ll wait for you outside,” Johnny hollered before he strolled out of the practice room.

“Am I in trouble?” I asked, and Seulgi smiled, shaking her head.

Great, it was a relief.

“Actually, I may sound crazy to you,” she started, fidgeting a little. It was strange, Seulgi was a strong and confident woman, but right now, she seemed rather bashful. “Would you like to participate in a dance competition?”

Her question took me aback.

“What?” I asked, trying to wrap my head around the topic.

“Let me explain,” she offered, and I reluctantly nodded.

By the look on her face, I could tell it wasn’t going to be a quick chit-chat. Seulgi had a lot of things to explain, so we decided to sit on the floor before she began her speech.

Patiently, I listened to everything she wanted to tell me.

Seulgi and Taeyong wanted to participate in a dance competition ever since they had decided to open up a dance school together. Last week they really thought they were going to achieve their dream. Unfortunately, as soon as they qualified and received the schedule, complications started to follow.

Maybe it was a little bit overconfident of them to think they’d make it to the finals, but it still made them anxious. Regardless of their talent, they wouldn’t be able to perform in the grand finale. Apparently, on the very same day, Seulgi was getting married.

At first, I wanted to interject that they could reschedule, but Seulgi beat me to it.

“It would be the third time we reschedule it, and I just can’t let that happen. I don’t want Irene to think I prioritize dancing over her. She means the world to me, and I’d quit a thousand times to get married to her,” Seulgi confessed, and I tried my best to contain my feels. There was something raw and pure about Seulgi’s love, and it moved me.

Seulgi’s proposition was genius in its simplicity. Together with Taeyong, she would perform, climbing up the rankings. And if by any chance, they would make it to the final round; she wanted me to fill in. Given I had been dancing at their studio for about four months I couldn’t comprehend why she chose me.

I was a rookie, for crying out loud!

Finding a substitute dancer made a lot of sense, actually. Instead of dropping out, they could find a replacement. This way, Taeyong could still make his dream come true. And next year, together with Seulgi, they could try to defend the title.

However, once again, Seulgi read my mind and answered my question before I voiced my doubts. She must’ve really thought this through before approaching me. It seemed she had rehearsed all possible inquires and came up with perfect answers.

“All of our dancer friends either compete against us or failed during qualifications,” she declared, and I hummed in response. “Unfortunately, people who already attempted joining can’t fill in for other dancers.”

“That sucks,” I commented, and Seulgi dryly chuckled.

“I think you would be a perfect fit,” she started, and I held my breath, wanting to hear what made her think I’d be able to rise to the challenge. “Everybody can memorize moves, but you have a natural passion for dancing. I can see it in class. Maybe you can’t see it yet because dancing is a hobby to you more than anything else, but I can tell you have the it™ factor.”

I was speechless. Seulgi, the dance prodigy, was praising my dancing skills. I couldn’t believe my ears. What kind of self-indulgent dream was it? Why couldn’t I dream like a normal person? I had tendency to toot my own horn sometimes, but it was just too much.

“I bet with proper training, you and Taeyong could win.”

“Let me think about it, okay?”

“Sure, of course! No pressure!” Seulgi replied enthusiastically, giving me enough space to clear my mind and think about it.

“See you next week.” I waved at her, exiting the dance room. Absentmindedly, I changed out of the gym clothes and walked out of the building, almost walking past Johnny.

“Hey, what did Seulgi want?” Johnny asked, grabbing my wrist, pulling me out of trance.

“She wants me to dance in her place if she and Taeyong ever make it to the finals.”

“What?!”

 ***

At first, I was hesitant about this whole thing. I wasn’t a professional dancer, and I really didn’t want to contribute to them losing the competition. However, Seulgi really made a point that they would have to drop out anyway, so in some twisted way, my participation gave them a slimmer of hope for victory.

Once I explained everything to Johnny, he really insisted I should help them out, spitting nonsense about fame and recognition and how I couldn’t doubt myself and just go with the flow. Opportunities like this rarely occurred, and I ought to welcome them with excitement.

So I did.

Every Saturday and Sunday, I dropped by the dance studio for practice. Taeyong still intimidated me, but I could deal with it. Seulgi was always around me to nag him whenever he demanded too much from me. They balanced each other very well, and it was fun working with them. Even though each practice left me with sore muscled, I was still excited. It was tangible proof I was improving.

Seulgi and Taeyong smoothly went through the contest, winning each battle with ease, slowly climbing in the ranking. There was still plenty of work until the grand finale, but everything looked they were to make it to the very top.

Unfortunately, the closer to the D-day, the less time Seulgi had to help us during practice. With her wedding coming up, she had a lot of preparations to deal with. As a result, Taeyong and I had to practice the dance routine on our own.

“No, you’re doing it all wrong,” Taeyong yelled in irritation when for the nth time, I turned to my right instead of my left. “Do it again; five, six, seven, eight,” he added, playing the song from the very beginning.

To say I was frustrated was an understatement of the century. I was aware that Taeyong really wanted to win the competition, but he didn’t have to be a dick about it. With no Seulgi to supervise him, he was unbearable.

“I think I need a break,” I declared once I turned to the wrong side again before Taeyong managed to scold me for it. Even though he shouted something again, I ignored it. With a deep sigh, I walked over to my gym bag to get my water bottle.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Taeyong asked, staring down at me with his arms folded across his chest, his demeanor dominant. His eyes were drilling holes in my head, his jaw was tightened – it was evident I was driving him up the wall. It was just a matter of seconds before Taeyong would snap, lashing out at me.

“I am taking a break,” I answered quickly, ignoring his angry stare. I was at my limit. If Taeyong didn’t back off, it would be the end of the practice for today. One more mean word and I’d storm out of the studio. I was here voluntarily. I was doing him a favor, and I didn’t deserve this type of treatment.

“Is it a joke to you?” Taeyong carried on, and I rolled my eyes. Of course, it wasn’t a joke to me. But at the same time, I was sick and tired of his shenanigans. I wanted him to win, but not when my mental health was on the line. He was pissing me off, and I wouldn’t let him walk all over me. “I thought you decided to help us out, but you’re not trying at all.”

He did not just say that.

“What?” I rhetorically asked, standing up, poking his chest with my forefinger. “I am trying my best here. You’re the one who makes it impossible to have fun dancing. You’re making it a chore, sucking all the fun out it.”

“Then tell me what I should do for you to finally make some progress? We’ve been stuck at this part for two weeks, and you still haven’t learned how to turn right!”

“Then go ahead and find someone else who can put up with your shit. I’m out,” I spoke, bending down to pick up my stuff, ready to leave the studio. Unfortunately, before I managed to exit the practice room, the doors opened, and Seulgi walked in with a confused expression on her face.

“Hey, what’s going on here?” She asked in worry, trying to put two and two together. It wouldn’t be the first time Taeyong and I argued, but it seemed to be the most intense one so far. It didn’t sit right with her. “Please don’t tell me you fought again.”

Briefly, I summarized what happened, and Seulgi looked down at Taeyong disapprovingly. I was glad Seulgi took my side; after all, she knew Taeyong could be too demanding.

“I am a dancer, but why does it feel I am a couple counselor? You two really have to learn how to work together when I’m not around,” she scolded us, making her point. If this whole arrangement was to work out, we both needed to establish some ground rules and learn how to put our differences aside. “I have an idea.”

Oh, no.

There was something mischievous in her tone, and I didn’t particularly like it.

“Let’s finish for today,” she proposed, and I smiled, thinking it was a great idea. Taeyong and I needed some time to chill, and calling it a day seemed like an appropriate way to do it. “Let’s go out clubbing instead!” Seulgi added cheerfully, clapping her hands in excitement.

“What?” Taeyong and I asked in unison, a bit surprised by Seulgi’s statement.

“That’s my prescription for the two of you,” she started, and I rolled my eyes. Taeyong and I didn’t get along as well as she wished for us to, but it wasn’t that bad. We didn’t need to bond over a few drinks in a crowded club. We would do just fine if Taeyong learned to go easy on me. “I believe we all can benefit from clubbing.”

“How come?”

“First of all, it will remind Taeyong that dancing is about fun, not overworking oneself,” Seulgi spoke, and I hummed, agreeing with her. “Second of all, it’ll give you a chance to loosen up. Your moves are still a bit stiff during intimate parts of the choreography,” she added, and Taeyong nodded in agreement. “And I really need something to drink because wedding planning is stressful as fuck.”

Not even thirty minutes later, we were inside the club.

“It’s a very sensual song. And you two really have to work hard to convey emotions through your dance,” Seulgi started as she sipped her tropical cocktail. “You must feel comfortable around each other and just ooze longing and sexual attraction,” she added, and I almost choked on my drink.

Performing with Taeyong was going to be more difficult than I had anticipated. When Seulgi and Taeyong showed me the choreography, I was amazed. Absolutely blown away. The way their bodies moved in synchronization left me speechless, but at the same time, I was a little bit nervous because I didn’t see myself living up to their level.

I wouldn’t consider myself particularly sexy. It made me feel awkward when I thought how seductive the dance routine actually was. I wasn’t sure I could pull this off, but Taeyong still had a lot of time to teach me.

“Take her to the dance floor,” Seulgi elbowed Taeyong, almost spilling his drink. Unenthusiastically, Taeyong looked at me before standing up and extending his arm.

Drunken people were jumping around us to the rhythm, and I awkwardly swayed from side to side, staring at Taeyong. With godlike precision, he moved, getting lost in the music. One could tell straight away Taeyong was a professional dancer.

Upon noticing how stiff I was, Taeyong shook his head, yanking me against his lean body. “How about you take a five-minute break to get that stick out of your ass? You look like you have no joints,” he yelled into my ear, his breath tickling my sensitive skin.

“I’ve had too little alcohol,” I replied, but Taeyong wasn’t having it.

“When we perform on the stage, will you need alcohol to let loose too?” Taeyong challenged with a playful smirk, and I rolled my eyes, too prideful to admit he was right. I couldn’t participate in that competition drunk. We wouldn’t win if I wasn’t able to come out of my shell and show everybody I had a sensual bone in my body.

“No,” I yelled into Taeyong’s ear. “How do I let loose?” I asked, hoping to hear some words of wisdom from him.

“Mirror what I’m doing,” Taeyong guided, and I nodded, focused on my new task. I could do that. I had been mirroring Seulgi’s movements during our classes, and I was pretty good at doing it. I could copy Taeyong’s moves.

At first, Taeyong danced a few classic moves we usually did during our warm-up routine. It was easy, and I think I nailed it. Later, he wiggled his upper body, feeling the rhythm. With envy, I observed how his body executed every single move, owning it. I wish I was half as good as Taeyong. Next to him, I probably looked like a crippled kid.

Upon noticing my struggle, Taeyong began jumping around, throwing his hands in the air. He looked ridiculous, but I remained focused on my task, dancing as if I was his shadow. Our bizarre moves earned some attention from other people, but our eyes were trained on each other, slowly getting lost in our own bubble.

I was sober, and I was on my way to owning the dance floor. I couldn’t believe it was happening. Maybe Taeyong’s charisma overshadowed my poor attempts of showcasing mine; however, I was sure I made a big step in the right direction. Slowly, I was improving.

“How about we spice it up a little bit?” Taeyong shouted into my ear, and I cocked up my eyebrow, thinking what he meant by that. “Don’t be shy,” he added, yanking me against his body. Taeyong was so close I could feel his legs rub against mine. “Come on, sweetheart. Touch me, tease me, feel me up,” Taeyong snickered, getting on my nerves. Not only Taeyong was smug for no reason, but he also quoted the song, which I was slowly growing to hate.

Taeyong must’ve assumed I’d back out. Surely, he didn’t expect me to follow his instructions and actually run my hands across his chest, shoulders, and back while simultaneously swaying my hips, earning approving stares from impressed men on the dance floor. At first, he was surprised he talked me into it, but a second later, he smirked, resting his palms on my sides, slowly exploring the valley of my butt.

I had no idea I had it in me, but Taeyong helped me discover it. We were basically grinding against each other, and it somehow didn’t feel awkward at all. We were just two people having fun.

“I’m sorry I was so harsh on you,” Taeyong apologized, shouting in my ear. “I’m just stressful all the time, and I think I may sometimes take it out on you,” he added, and I looked at his face, which was dangerously close to mine.

“It’s understandable,” I replied as I wrapped my arms around Taeyong’s neck, finding it much more comfortable. Now with our bodies pressed together, it was easier to have a conversation. “I know how much you want to win this competition. I’ll try harder,” I promised, and Taeyong released a relieved chuckle.

Who would’ve thought an adult conversation would work better than shouting at each other?

“Thank you,” Taeyong spoke genuinely, and I pulled away, staring at his face. His eyes were trained on mine. No matter how many hours we had spent at the dance studio, his gaze still intimidated me sometimes.

“Ekhm, I need a break,” I said in a desperate need to break eye contact with him. The dance floor was crowded, and it was making me dizzy. I was getting dangerously hot, and it seemed like heaven to get back to our booth and finish our drinks.

“Of course, you need a break,” Taeyong teased, sending me a lopsided smirk. “It’s okay, though. We still have plenty of time to work on your stamina,” he added as he grabbed my hand, leading me out of the crowd. Carefully, we zigzagged around drunken people, trying to make it safely to Seulgi.

Unfortunately, by the bar counter, someone walked into Taeyong, almost knocking him down.

“I’m very sorry,” a man shouted, but I could sense the words weren’t genuine.

“Doyoung,” Taeyong spoke, gritting his teeth, staring at the other man. Taeyong’s grip tightened around my hand. I figured he didn’t particularly like Doyoung.

“Taeyong,” Doyoung sighed, checking Taeyong out from head to toe before his gaze shifted to me. There was something spiteful about his lingering eyes, but I couldn’t pinpoint it. For sure, there was some bad blood between two men, and I suddenly felt an urge to know more. Inquisitiveness got the best of me.

Taeyong and Doyoung kept glaring at each other almost as if it was a competition. The tension was so intense one could cut it with a knife. I cleared my throat in a poor attempt to break their stare contest, but they didn’t even acknowledge my presence.

“I saw your last performance,” Doyoung finally spoke, scoffing. “You’re getting out of it, and here I expected to kick your ass in the finale. I wouldn’t be surprised if you and your partner got eliminated next week.”

I thought I had seen Taeyong furious, but right now, I was proven wrong. The way he looked at me whenever I was a handful during our practice was nothing compared to the way he glared at Doyoung. Taeyong was scary, and I decided to not get on his wrong side ever again.

“I’d gladly kick your ass here, but I’d rather wait for the finale. You know what people say about prolonged gratification,” Taeyong talked back, and I gasped, trying to comprehend what I just heard. Taeyong was getting cocky, and it made me nervous. I was already stressed about the possibility of performing, and he just added more pressure on my shoulders.

“We’ll see about that,” Doyoung replied, focusing his scrutinizing gaze on me. “But I have to say I kinda look forward to seeing you cry again. The way I beat you the last time was spectacular.”

“Let’s go, Taeyong. Don’t waste your breath on him. He’s not worth it,” I exclaimed, pulling Taeyong’s hand, reminding him I was there the whole time. I couldn’t listen to Doyoung talk trash about Taeyong. If Taeyong wasn’t going to walk away by himself, I had to intervene and pull him aside. Doyoung was provoking him.

“And who is that?” Doyoung asked in a mocking tone, displeased by the way I looked at him. Though I didn’t know the back story, I took Taeyong’s side. At least, Taeyong didn’t try to humiliate his rival, while Doyoung had already tried a few tricks to tick Taeyong off.

“You’re right,” Taeyong said, looking at me. It was evident he was holding himself back, trying his best not to take the bait. “Let’s go,” he added, pulling me away from Doyoung.

“Who was that?” I asked as we approached our booth. Unfortunately, I didn’t get my response. Upon arrival, we noticed that Seulgi was sprawled on the table, giggling to herself.

“Is she always like this?” I inquired, concerned about how drunk Seulgi got in such a short amount of time. We were gone for thirty minutes tops, and she was barely conscious after drinking her and our drinks.

“Aww… there you are… my dear friends,” she cooed cutely, trying to attack Taeyong with cuddles. She was adorable, but it was kind of irresponsible to drink by herself when we were on the dance floor. Thankfully, nothing happened. We returned just in time to collect her and escort her home.

“I can’t believe my plan worked,” Seulgi grinned, pointing her finger at Taeyong. “You no longer have a stick up your ass,” she exclaimed at Taeyong, too drunk to realize she should be talking to me. “And look at you! You were having fun!” Seulgi yelled, extending her arms to hug me. “I am so proud of you!”

“I should take her home,” Taeyong reasoned, considering it the safest option. He could call an Uber for Seulgi or just phone her fiancée to pick her up but bringing her home himself seemed to be the most rational solution. “Will you be alright by yourself?” He inquired, and I nodded right away. It was sweet of him to look after me too. Thankfully, I barely touched my cocktail; I could get home safely on my own.

“Don’t worry about me,” I replied casually, sending him a reassuring smile. “Just make sure Seulgi makes it home safe,” I added, warming up at the way Taeyong hauled up Seulgi, carefully leading her out of the club. It made me wonder if Johnny did the same to me. Probably. He wouldn’t be that gentle, though. If anything, he’d throw me over his shoulder like a bag of potatoes. Or just drag me out like a corpse.

“Give me a call once you get back home,” Taeyong demanded before we parted ways.

 ***

“You went clubbing without me?” Johnny dramatically asked after I told him everything that happened on the weekend. Despite my detailed narration, it seemed as if that was the only thing he caught on to. “How could you?”

“Relax, dude,” I rolled my eyes, shuffling around my desk, getting ready for work. It was Monday morning – it was about time we start our gossip routine.

“And I was wondering… would you mind helping me researching this shady dude? There’s some conflict between him and Taeyong. And I need to know what happened,” I started, wondering if Johnny would cooperate with me and put his stalking abilities to good use.

I was too embarrassed to ask Taeyong about Doyoung. Besides, I had a hunch he would either brush me off or scold me.

“Do you know anything about this dude besides his name?” Johnny pulled out his phone, no questions asked. “Please, don’t tell me that’s the only thing you know.”

“I mean… he’s probably a dancer,” I added with a sheepish smile, making Johnny heave a deep sigh. “He must be a big deal, though. Apparently, Taeyong lost a competition to him.”

“I’ll try to find some dirt, but it may be difficult given how little info you gave me,” Johnny declared as he began his thorough research.

It took Johnny five minutes to find the correct Doyoung. It was remarkable. If it wasn’t enough for the FBI to hire him, I’d gladly present them a recommendation letter. Quickly, I opened Doyoung’s profile on my phone, scrolling through his feed.

At first glance, Doyoung seemed to be a regular bratty internet star with an overgrown ego. His follower count was impressive. Studying his profile, I learned a lot about him. Unfortunately, it had no value. There was nothing specific about his conflict with Taeyong.

“How was your date with Wendy?” I asked Johnny as I gave up on my research. Whatever was the root of their bad blood would have to remain a mystery.

“It was fine,” Johnny started, but I could tell he wasn’t entirely honest. His disappointed tone betrayed him. “She left before the waiter brought the dessert. Apparently, she didn’t particularly like when I kept calling her Wanda.”

“Ouch.”

“No hard feelings, though,” Johnny shrugged it off, trying to focus on the positive aspect of their terrible date. “At least, I’ve had two slices of cheesecake. Besides, I’m kind of into Sooyoung from the creative team now. I think she is the one.”

“Every girl you’re into is the one,” I interjected, rolling my eyes, done with his antics.

“Oh, by the way, I’ve forgotten,” Johnny chimed in, staring at me in excitement. “Taeil asked me about you,” he revealed, and I almost spat out my morning coffee.

“What?”

“Are you still into him, though?” Johnny inquired, rubbing his temple in deep thought. “I haven’t heard you gush about him these days,” he pinpointed, and I wondered if my crush on Taeil was still as intense as it was a few months ago.

Taeil was insanely hot. I kept drooling whenever I saw him operate the printer. It was inappropriate to check him out whenever he bent down to change the ink, but I couldn’t help myself. Or whenever we met by the vending machine.

Good old times.

Right now, though, I rarely caught myself thinking about him. At first, I thought it was due to a hectic schedule. I was either at work or at the dance studio or getting shit-faced with Johnny on another wild adventure with him and his friends.

It was difficult to comprehend how easily my crush faded into thin air. Taeil was still sexy as fuck, but while I appreciate his looks, I wasn’t daydreaming how to get into his pants. At this point, I was just admiring his attributes in the most nonsexual way imaginable.

Apparently, the lack of response on my part was everything Johnny needed to confirm his suspicion.

“So what? Are you into Taeyong now?” Johnny asked boldly, and now, I actually choked on my coffee, thinking I heard him wrong. How did he jump to that conclusion?

“What?”

“Don’t get me wrong, but it kinda looks like you’re into him,” Johnny commented, playing with a pen. “You talk about him all the time with lots of passion. I think there’s something going on between you two. Is he single?”

“I talk about him all the time because I live to complain, and recently he’s the sole reason why I gotta vent,” I defended, but Johnny didn’t seem convinced. “And I don’t know if he’s single. I don’t really care,” quickly, I rejected all accusations, but in all honesty, his words got me wondering.

Was I attracted to Taeyong?

Surely, Taeyong was ridiculously attractive. He danced well, too. Unfortunately, we didn’t click much. There was passion between us, but it wasn’t romantically stemmed. We just kept annoying each other. I wouldn’t consider it sexual. We were just getting on each other’s nerves often, unable to properly solve our differences.

“Whatever helps you sleep at night, honey,” Johnny teased, and I fought the urge to throw the stapler at him. “I bet fifty bucks you’ve imagined him naked, fucking you dumb.”

What the fuck, John???

I did not imagine Taeyong naked!

Not until now, at least.

“I seriously hate you right now,” I complained, deciding it’s about time I focus on work.

 ***

After Johnny had planted naughty thoughts in my mind, each dance practice was unbearable. My mind was running wild, coming up with different scenarios involving Taeyong and me in intimate situations. It was wrong on so many levels, but I couldn’t bring myself to stop.

After months of practicing the dance routine, we decided it would be best to make some changes to the choreography. Though it was still sensual as hell, with our hands roaming each other’s bodies, we found it crucial to accentuate Taeyong’s talents.

It was a strategic plan. While typically male dancers helped the female dancers shine, we put a little twist to it. Though our performance was still pretty balanced, Taeyong had a few crucial parts of choreography, in which he would snatch everybody’s hearts.

Seulgi didn’t object to our strategy. Well… she was never there, to begin with. Seulgi was a ghost, never present during our practice, always busy doing some last-minute wedding prep.

“Let’s take a five,” Taeyong hollered as he turned off the music, sending us off to a short break. It sounded weird when it came out of his mouth, but I didn’t complain. We’ve been practicing nonstop for the past hour. At this point, I was panting.

Lying down onto the floor, I rested my head on my towel, reaching for my phone. Quickly, I unlocked it to see a series of notifications from Johnny. He had sent me a link to a video, telling me in all caps to watch it.

Having left the earphones in the locker room, I played the video quietly through my phone’s speaker. It was a short film with Doyoung. It must’ve been his performance from last year’s competition. Jamming to the music, I studied his moves.

Doyoung was really good. I mean… it wasn’t professional expertise, but I could tell he had talent. His body control was impeccable, his hip thrusts must’ve impregnated plenty of women in the audience, but his shoulder rolls were just otherworldly. Along with the female dancer, they showcased quite the performance. From the beginning to the very end, I couldn’t look away, failing to notice Taeyong approach me.

“What the hell are you doing?” Taeyong shouted, tearing my phone from my hand, double-checking what I was watching. “Why are you watching this?” He angrily asked, locking the device, wishing for it to stop playing music.

It was difficult to explain.

I couldn’t exactly tell Taeyong that I asked my best friend to do research on Doyoung in hopes of finding out what was the root of their conflict. Though we had never found anything substantial, Johnny would send me more footage to check out. However, regardless of how much stuff Johnny had provided me with, I was still clueless.

“Why are you shouting at me?” I spoke, biting on my bottom lip. I was in big trouble, so it was only logical to play dumb.

Taeyong stared down at me, demanding a genuine answer. His jaw was tensed, his knuckles around my phone turned white. It was just a meaningless clip, but it got him fuming at me. Regardless of what I’d tell him, he wouldn’t like the answer. I figured this much.

“Why were you watching that?” Taeyong yelled, raising his hand, almost smashing my phone against the floor. Thankfully, he held back and gently put it on my bag.

It was incredible how much the video affected Taeyong. The movie worked on Taeyong like a red rag to a bull. One moment he seemed fine, but once he figured out what I was watching, he snapped.

“You really want to know?” I challenged as I rose to my feet, staring at him. It was my turn to raise my voice. If he kept shouting at me, I was going to give him the same treatment. “Ever since that night at the club, I was curious. You were basically throwing daggers at each other, and I really wanted to know what happened between you two. You never bothered to explain it, and I didn’t want to push you.”

“Do you have your answers now?” Taeyong exclaimed, and I rolled my eyes, agitating him even more with my fed-up behavior. He was scary right now, but I refused to let him intimidate me. “Or do you want to read my diary too?!”

I resisted the temptation of saying yes to his offering. Taeyong wasn’t the type of person to write a dairy. He was exaggerating, but I didn’t want to provoke him further. At any mention of Doyoung’s name, wrath took control over Taeyong, turning him into his destructive self.

“If it makes you feel any better, I know shit about him,” I confessed, throwing my hands in the air. “I wanted to know what he did to you, but I came up with nothing. And believe it or not, the way he treated you that night made me worry. You’re my dance partner, and I care about you a lot, and it really hurt me seeing you in distress,” I spat, not thinking about consequences. I was talking without filter, probably spilling too much information.

My verbal diarrhea confused Taeyong. His huge eyes were staring at me in astonishment. He was studying my expression, wondering if everything I said was true. Oh, no! My reckless words made him uncomfortable. He must’ve grown to hate now.

In embarrassment, I looked down at my shoes. I felt terrible, and I needed to come up with something clever to say to save my dignity and ease the tension. However, before I managed to voice my sincere apology, I felt Taeyong’s hands cup my cheeks as he surged forward and kissed my breath away. It was sudden, but I reciprocated the kiss in an instant.

Stress, anxiety, anger, sexual frustration, and probably many other factors led us to this very moment. I had been daydreaming about Taeyong’s mouth on mine for a while now. And when it finally happened, I eagerly swept my tongue across his lips, deepening the kiss. Though I had tried my best to withstand the tension between us, I wasn’t oblivious to it.

Taeyong already knew almost every inch of my body, so his hands naturally began roaming across my skin. Moaning into the kiss, he held me closer, keeping me pressed against him.

“Taeyong,” I breathed out as I pulled away, only for Taeyong to smash his lips against mine again, successfully shushing me. This time around, the kiss was even more passionate, making my knees weak. In a rush, Taeyong pushed me against the wall, pushing his thigh between my legs. “We shouldn’t,” I spoke, but my tone wasn’t convincing at all. I wasn’t even sure who I was trying to convince that it was a bad idea.

“Shut up,” Taeyong demanded as he tilted his face, sucking on my bottom lip. His hands were on my butt, kneading my flesh, trying to make me moan into his mouth. In all honesty, it worked. Maybe, I whimpered incoherent sounds, but it’s was just a poor attempt to encourage him to keep kissing me.

Regardless of how much he was to gift me, I needed more. I wasn’t going to stop until I’d take everything Taeyong was willing to give.

I craned my neck to the side, and Taeyong quickly caught on, leaving a wet trail down my neck. His lips were delicate, careful not to leave a mark, while his hips were grinding against me, letting me feel how stiff he already was.

“Legs,” Taeyong ordered, gently slapping my thigh. Obediently, I spread my legs apart, letting his hand cup my sex. It was ridiculous how horny he was making me. Once his raspy voice echoed in my ears, I fulfilled his wish, waiting for another command in excitement.

“Please,” I begged, needing more of him. Whatever he planned on doing to me, I needed it now. Whether he was to tease me with his beautiful fingers or fuck me raw with his cock, he better do it now.

“Patience, sweetheart,” he whispered against my skin, pressing feather-like kisses along my collarbone. His touch was driving me insane. His hands were everywhere but where I wanted them the most. This type of teasing should be illegal.

It was more than I could take, so I took matters into my own hands. I could play this game, too. With a mischievous smirk upon my face, I hooked my forefinger under the band of his tracksuit bottoms. Unfortunately, Taeyong quickly swept my hand away.

“You’re such a bad girl,” Taeyong commented before he captured my lips again, sliding his tongue into my mouth, knowing I’d talk back to him. “You have to do everything your way. Would it kill you if you listened to me at least once?” Taeyong muttered, staring into my eyes.

Yes, I was a brat. Taeyong wanted me to submit to him, and I would do it eventually, but not before I’d tease him first. What was fun in that?

“Don’t answer that,” he added, and I rolled my eyes. Though we barely hung out outside the dance studio, Taeyong learned a lot about me. Having an answer to everything was one of those things he had the pleasure of discovering.

“Just fuck me, please,” I said nicely, staring into his eyes, hoping it would be enough to make him cave. “I can’t take it any longer,” I added, rubbing my loins against his restrained cock, making him let out a guttural moan.

My plan was working. Slowly, Taeyong was giving in, probably taking his time to think about the consequences of letting me experience instant gratification. Orgasm would’ve been sweeter if he made me wait a bit more, but it was difficult for him to control his urges.

Without any doubt, Taeyong wanted to bury his cock inside of me as much as I wanted him to fuck me dumb. We withstood so many practices without jumping at each other – I should consider it foreplay.

“Fine, but I’m gonna eat you out first,” Taeyong spoke, and I almost lost it by just imagining his jaw going between my thighs. Swiftly, he knelt in front of me, pulling my leggings down to my ankles in one fluid motion. Having kicked off my gym shoes, I wiggled the fabric off my feet, sending it flying across the dance studio.

Taeyong ran his fingers across my panties, inspecting how soaked they already were. With a smirk upon Taeyong’s face, he pressed a chaste kiss against my skin above the waistband before he yanked the undergarment down.

“Beautiful,” he said under his breath before he surged his face, taking my clit between his gorgeous lips, making me tilt my head in pleasure. Frustration got me sensitive. Even the slightest touch got me purring in delight.

Taeyong licked and nipped at my entrance, and I run my hands through his hair, encouraging him to keep going. He flicked his tongue, and I buckled my hips, wanting more.

“I need your fingers,” I pleaded, looking down at him. Taeyong looked breathtaking, with my juices were dripping down his sharp jaw, with his lips turned into a satisfied smirk. He was proud of how he was making me feel. His glistening skin was the very evidence of his skillful moves. “Taeyong, please, I am so close.”

Though I didn’t expect him to, Taeyong listened to my humble request. His middle finger slid right it, making me purr in satisfaction. I could finally feel him inside of me, and it was heavenly. His palm moved quickly, working me up.

The first orgasm was building up. Taeyong was fucking me now with two fingers while his mouth was fiddling with my clit. If it wasn’t for Taeyong’s palm, holding me still, I’d buckle right into his face for more friction.

“I’m about to come,” I declared, shutting my eyes close. As tempting as it was to peek at the mirror on the other wall and check out the view of Taeyong eating me out, it was more than I could take. My instinct to squeeze my eyes shut and welcome the orgasm was too much.

Unfortunately, it didn’t happen.

Before tiny tingles of electricity could unite and explode, shooting through me like a lightning strike, Taeyong pulled away, denying me of my orgasm. It physically hurt when instead of a blissful peak, I felt nothing.

“What the fuck?” I barked angrily, ready to pull him by his hair against my sex and press him against me, so he could finish the job.

“We’re coming together, or we’re not coming at all,” Taeyong sternly replied, standing up. His lips were swollen from all the work he was doing, and they looked even more kissable.

“I’ve never pegged you for such a teaser,” I stated matter-of-factly, still a little bit butt-hurt over the way how smug he was about not letting me come first. Maybe I was a handful most of the time, but I didn’t do anything wrong to deserve such treatment.

“I’m not,” Taeyong chimed in, biting down on his lip. “There’s just something about you that makes me want to punish for your misbehavior,” he explained, and I got it where it came from. I wasn’t the best student he could work with. “Isn’t it the sweetest torture?” Taeyong challenged before he surged forward, smashing his lips against mine again, raising my thigh and giving it a gentle rub.

“Please, Taeyong, I need you inside of me,” I begged as I ground my sex against his rock-hard cock. I couldn’t comprehend how self-disciplined and patient he was; his budge was throbbing underneath his pants. It must’ve been painful for him, and he did all of that to teach me a lesson. “Fuck me, already.”

“Relax, sweetheart. I got you,” he softly spoke as he hoisted me up, pressing me tightly against the wall. “To be honest, I expected you to lose it sooner,” Taeyong added, and I hoped he was talking about my sanity. I endured more than enough; his teasing was too much.

“How should I fuck you?” Taeyong asked, looking around the practice room, seeking a perfect spot to stuff his cock inside of me. We didn’t have a lot of options, but I didn’t care. He could fuck me in the middle of the room, and I’d eagerly spread my legs for him. “Screw it,” he cursed, gently lowering me down onto the floor. “Do you mind?” Taeyong inquired, and I shook my head as I wrapped my legs around his hips, pressing him against me.

“Strip,” I ordered, and Taeyong smirked before he pulled his T-shirt over his head, revealing his lean physique. My eyes marveled at his beautiful shoulders and toned muscles. I had touched him more than I could count, but I never saw him bare, and when I finally did, I gawked.

“What about you, sweetheart? Come on, I am waiting,” Taeyong teased, and I took off my T-shirt. I was only in my sports bra, and Taeyong bit his lip, staring down at me, admiring my simple beauty. With no further comment, Taeyong leaned in, attacking my collarbone. It was hot how attentive he was, but right now, all I needed was his cock buried deep down my cunt.

Desperately, I reached to his sweatpants, palming his erection through the fabric. As soon as I touched him, Taeyong released a needy growl, rolling his hips into my hand, finally giving in to the pleasure. He lost his self-restraint, and now, he seriously needed to fill me up with his throbbing length.

“Take them off,” I breathed out, pulling by the hem of his pants. With a lowered head, Taeyong tsked before he yanked them down to his knees, wriggling out of them. Just as I expected, his cock urgently entailed my attention.

Though the thought of blowing him crossed my mind, I eventually decided not to entertain this idea too much. It was apparent Taeyong wanted to him inside of my pussy. I’d suck him dry on a different occasion. Hopefully, it would happen soon.

“Fuck me, Taeyong,” I moaned as I trembled when the tip of his cock brushed against my folds. I was embarrassingly sensitive after his ministrations, and he dared to tease me again. “Please,” I begged as I gave his length a few gentle strokes, aligning it with my entrance.

“Aaahh…” Taeyong growled, slowly pushing his dick inside of me. Inch by inch, he filled me up, stretching my walls. A lot of different sinful noises came out of his mouth as he began steadily thrusting his hips.

Taeyong’s stamina was no joke. It was hard to believe how long he could snap his hips without messing up his rhythm. His low voice mixed with my desperate moans echoed inside the room, creating a wicked symphony along with the sound of our sweaty bodies smashing against each other.

He was fucking me hard, and I was in seventh heaven. Taeyong was filling me up so good; I could come undone on his cock anytime.

“Taeyong,” I moaned his name as I watched him fuck me. Though it was hot to look at his cock disappear in my pussy, it was even sweeter to stare in the mirror. With my head turned to the side, I studied the whole picture how Taeyong was fucking me.

“I am coming,” I screamed as I felt the bliss approach. Taeyong was panting, struggling to maintain his tempo with the way my walls tightened around his sensitive cock. Once he hit my sweet spot, I was a goner. After a few thrusts, I came, digging my nails in his back.

“Fuck,” Taeyong cursed, shouting my name as he shot his load inside of me, collapsing on top of me. We were a breathless mess, our bodies sticking together, but neither of us minded. At this point, we were too spent to care. “You were incredible,” Taeyong whispered as he pulled out, rolling to the side.

“You weren’t that bad yourself,” I panted, giggling, still recovering from the mind-blowing orgasm. Thankfully, Taeyong didn’t pay much attention to my playful jab. “I meant it what I said,” I added, turning around to look at him.

“I’m sorry for yelling at you,” Taeyong started, staring into my eyes, showing me his sincerity. “I just can’t help myself but get angry when I see him or hear about him,” he continued, and I nodded my head, letting him know I was willing to listen.

I didn’t expect that Taeyong would agree to vent to me, but when he did, I patiently heard him out. After all, I was pretty sure we were at least friends now.

“It all happened about a year ago. We were competing in the same contest, and he made my dance partner quit. Doyoung seduced her, toyed with her, and once the trophy was his, he dumped her. Because of him, I was disqualified, and she quit dance altogether.”

Listen to his story made me both sad and angry. Doyoung had been a dick to interfere like that – he must’ve known he hadn’t stood a chance against them in a fair fight. My blood was boiling in my veins as I put all the pieces together.

Sadness took over next. The way Doyoung had manipulated Taeyong’s dance partner was upsetting. The wound had been cut so deep, she couldn’t have forced herself to keep going. Doyoung had wrecked two lives, and it made my blood boil, too.

“We’re gonna beat him. Don’t worry, I’ll make sure we do,” I spoke, reassuring him. It was impossible to tend the wounds, but the least I could do is help Taeyong win. For what he had done, Doyoung deserved punishment. If I were Taeyong, I’d not hesitate to beat him up.

“I hope so,” Taeyong muttered, reaching for my hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. “It’s still fine if we don’t. I’m pretty sure karma will get to him eventually,” he added with a sigh.

“I’ll work harder,” I declared, feeling an extra wave of determination wash through me. “I’ll try my best,” I said, and Taeyong smiled fondly, content to hear me say it.

“Thanks. It means a lot to me.”

For a while, we were staring at each other. It felt nice and somehow more intimate than all the fucking we had done. If we were in bed, I could do it all night. Unfortunately, we were still lying on the uncomfortable floor.

“Let’s get washed up before we get too sappy,” I added, trying to ease the tension. I really enjoyed it, but it was getting a little too much.

“I hope you don’t mind sharing the shower with me. You know… water bills are a bitch,” Taeyong spoke, and I giggled at his bullshit excuse, finding it incredibly cute, considering what we had been doing a few minutes ago.

“Of course they are,” I deadpanned, chuckling. Though his excuse was lame, I liked Taeyong enough to go with it. “Come on. Let’s go. I don’t want anyone to catch me naked.”

 ***

After that one time at the dance studio, Taeyong and I made it a regular thing. However, we kept it civilized. We wouldn’t jump each other’s bones in the open like animals like we had done the first time. Usually, we would go on small kind-of-dates, which consisted of picking up food, going to my or his place, and then rolling in the sheets.

We were having lots of fun. It was a perfect way to de-stress. After all, the finale was this Saturday, and we were nervous as hell. In all honesty, I was still scared, but these orgasms were numbing my anxiety.

“I think that’s it,” Taeyong spoke, and I smiled brightly, unable to contain my joy. It was the first time Taeyong ever approved of our performance. Most of the time, he was nitpicking, complaining about the slightest mistake, but finally, he was satisfied with it.

I was ecstatic; I never expected to live up to Taeyong’s approval. Through hard work and persistence, I managed to earn his eulogy.

“What should we do now? How about we order some food?” I asked, feeling in a celebratory mood. Maybe it was a little bit too early to drink to this small success, but it’s still worth a shot.

“We should do it again. We should dance it flawlessly at least a couple of hundred consecutive times before celebrating,” Taeyong seriously replied, and I rolled my eyes. Despite his painstaking nature, a couple of hundred times, it was a bit too much. Even for him. “Don’t give me that look. Let’s start again; five, six, seven, eight.”

Though usually, I’d complain and try to force him into a five-minute break, right now, I was oddly energized. We were dancing for the past two hours, and I was panting out of exhaustion. Nevertheless, the thoughts of finally mastering the choreography kept me going.

“I’m pretty good at this,” I confidently commented while roaming my hands across Taeyong’s shoulders before he twirled me around to the rhythm. I could tell that Taeyong was just waiting for an excuse to pause the music and scold me for making a mistake. However, much to his dismay, I executed every move impeccably. “I had a pretty good teacher,” I added, stroking his ego. The D-day was approaching, and Taeyong obviously needed an extra boost of confidence.

“I must admit you were a piece of work. I have no idea what kind of sorcery is this,” Taeyong teased, staring into my eyes. We had practiced the routine plenty of times; we could probably perform it in blindfolds and not make a single mistake. “I must be a magician or something.”

“Don’t push it,” I warned him in a very non-threatening tone, making him smirk. “But it’s only partially your success. Seulgi told me I have the it™ factor,” I proudly said, cracking Taeyong up, messing the choreography. “Is it a student-has-become-the-master kind of moment?” I asked, laughing at Taeyong. For the dance prodigy, he was getting distracted way too easily. It was suspicious.

With a broad smile upon his face, Taeyong grabbed my wrists, making me look at him.

“How about we finish up for today? I have a surprise for you,” Taeyong said, and I cocked my eyebrows, biting my bottom lip. “Not that kind of surprise,” he added, rolling his eyes at me. “We might get it on later, though.”

“What kind of surprise then?”

“Wait a second,” Taeyong spoke, quickly jogging out of the practice room. In a minute, he was back with a garment bag in his hands. “Here, that’s for you. Seulgi came in the morning to drop it off for you,” he explained, and I pulled down the zipper. It was going to be my costume for the contest, and I was curious how it looked.

I was speechless. At first, I thought it was a joke. I wouldn’t be able to perform in that. However, the more I looked at it, the more sense it made. It was a simple white suit shirt, but when mixed with a leather body harness, high-waisted shorts, and boots, it fitted the concept beautifully.

“Do you like it? I thought it was too revealing, but Seulgi insisted you would look amazing in it. I mean… it fits the mood, but if you’re not comfortable with it, we still have some time to find something else,” Taeyong blabbered, and my heart swelled. It was very sweet of him to consider my comfort above anything else.

“It’s skimpy, but it’s fine. I like it,” I replied, having no idea where my confidence was coming from. A few months ago, I’d be anxious to even try it on in the confines of my bedroom. However, now I was planning on showing a lot of skin on national television during prime hours on the weekend. I must’ve gone insane.

“Do you want to try it on?” Taeyong challenged, pulling the hangers out of the bag.

“You mean… here?!”

“Come on, it wouldn’t be the first time you took off your clothes in the middle of the practice room,” Taeyong concluded, smiling at me mischievously.

“Pass,” I firmly rejected his dare, even though it felt tempting. “It’s not fun when I’m doing it alone,” I added, and Taeyong grabbed the hem of his T-shirt, more than ready to discard his clothes in a blink of an eye. “Don’t fool around,” I warned him, placing my hand over his before he managed to take his T-shirt off.

“You’re right. Let’s go to my place first,” Taeyong agreed, zipping the bag before he grabbed my hand, leading me out of the practice room.

 ***

 On the day of the performance, I woke up with a terrible stomach ache. No matter how much fantastic sex Taeyong and I had, I was not mentally prepared to perform in front of the whole nation. I felt sick, almost as if my body was telling me to quit before I’d embarrass myself on national television. Stress was eating me from the inside.

“What are you doing up so early? Let’s go back to bed,” Taeyong purred in his raspy morning voice as he sneaked his arm around my waist, pulling me against him. “You need to be rested before the performance. Trust me, you don’t want a camera to catch you yawning,” he added, nuzzling his nose in the crook of my neck, breathing hot air against my skin.

“Thanks for giving me one more thing to stress about,” I deadpanned, heaving a deep sigh, staring at the ceiling. It was a mistake. I should have never agreed to Seulgi’s proposition in the first place. What the hell was I thinking? “I think it’s a bad idea. We should quit.”

Taeyong wasn’t in the mood for my nagging so early in the morning; he was having none of it. “You’re being ridiculous. We’ve practiced so much. We’re gonna win it with ease,” he declared, pressing a featherlike kiss against my jaw. “But for real,” he added, climbing on top of me, trapping me between his thighs, “we’re going to win. And even if we don’t, it’s fine. Really, if somehow we lose to Doyoung and his partner, I’ll just punch him backstage.”

“How can you say that?” I said with a sigh, running my hands across his thighs, finding it rather calming. “I know you said we should rest, but how about…” I trailed, and Taeyong smiled before eagerly capturing my lips, reading me like an open book.

“Say no more,” Taeyong whispered before his hands traveled under my shirt.

Unfortunately, Taeyong’s phone started buzzing on the nightstand before he managed to pull my panties down. With a groan, he extended his arm, staring at the screen.

“It’s Seulgi.”

“What are you waiting for? It’s her wedding day. Pick it up,” I yelled at him as I fell on the pillow, admiring his handsome face when he was talking to Seulgi.

“Please, not you, too,” he barked, rubbing his face in annoyance. Though I barely could make out what she was saying, I figured this much Seulgi and I were suffering from the same stress-fuelled illness. It was her wedding day, after all. Even if it was obvious she loved Irene with a burning passion, she wasn’t immune to pre-wedding anxiety.

Seulgi was talking her stress away, and Taeyong just hummed and nodded his head, registering her words. For some reason, the pressure didn’t seem to bother Taeyong at all. It was weird, but at least he was the voice of reason, which could help me and Seulgi cope.

“Breath in, breath out,” Taeyong spoke when Seulgi made a pause long enough for him to interject. “I know it’s a big deal, but there’s nothing to worry about. You’re getting married to Irene. You love her so much,” Taeyong reminded her, winking at me, expecting Seulgi to end the call soon. “Everybody’s a little nervous; it’s completely normal.”

It was beautiful how close Taeyong and Seulgi were. They had each other’s backs in all types of situations.

About ten minutes later, Seulgi finally calmed down. Taeyong’s reassuring words swept the anxiety away, and she was more than ready to get married to the love of her life.

Once Seulgi hung up, Taeyong threw his phone on the bed and secured my legs around his hips before he leaned forward, giving me a quick kiss. “Seulgi says hi, by the way,” he added, sneaking his hand under the hem of my panties.

“What?”

“What do you mean what?” Taeyong looked down at me, creasing his eyebrows in confusion.

“She knows?” I yelled, unable to comprehend how, on Earth, Seulgi figured out I was in Taeyong’s bed. She couldn’t know. She wasn’t even there when our romance bloomed. “How?”

“Yeah, is it a bad thing, though? You didn’t want to fuck me in secret, did you?” Taeyong challenged, not really answering my inquiry. Did Seulgi figure it out on her own? Or did Taeyong told her about us? And, the biggest question mark was: what were we to begin with? “Seulgi must have some sort of sixth sense. She was bothering me about the sexual tension between us since day one of your training.”

“I wouldn’t call it sexual tension per se, but there was something going on,” I replied, reminiscing how rocky our beginning was. “But I think we were interrupted…” I reminded him, and Taeyong with a playful smirk on his face dived right between my thighs.

 ***

 The streaming should begin at 8 p.m., but we had to arrive before 5 p.m., so the make-up artists and stylists could prepare us for the performance. Sitting in that chair and waiting for all pampering to be over with was stressful as fuck. I tried to preoccupy myself with an idea of Taeyong, but whenever someone threw a question in my direction, I was being pulled out of my train of happy thoughts.

I wanted to get on the stage and be done with it. Unfortunately, whoever funded that contest didn’t think of the mental health of its participants when making today’s schedule.

Punctually, the show began its transmission at 8 o’clock. However, at the very beginning, the MC had to introduce all sponsors. Going through them took him about twenty minutes. Then, they interviewed some of the eliminated dancers, asking them questions either about their experience in the competition or simply who they thought would win.

Later, they decided to rewind the contestants’ moments in the show. At first, they showed Doyoung and his partner, and a few experts analyzed their performance, wondering what the odds of them winning were.

When the host announced the rewind of Taeyong’s and Seulgi’s stages, the jury only talked about the sudden switch up, confirming it was the first time it ever happened in the grand finale. It startled a lot of people why would Seulgi drop out, but Taeyong explained it in a brief interview.

“It was a crazy coincidence, but Seulgi couldn’t participate today because she is getting married today,” Taeyong revealed, and the audience cooed loudly, obviously supporting her choice. “I was stressed at first, but Seulgi found an amazing dancer to take her spot. She really chose well,” he added, and I looked at him, trying not to cry in front of everyone.

It was almost impossible to fish out a compliment from Taeyong during practice, but right now, he did it on his own accord, melting my heart with his words.

“Everybody is dying to know more about your partner,” the MC started, shifting his attention to me. I didn’t particularly like to be put in the spotlight, but before I managed to spit some nonsense, Taeyong butt in, rescuing the day.

“Although she doesn’t have much experience in dance competitions, I think she’s a great dancer. To think of it, she is my secret weapon,” Taeyong added, and I almost ran into his arms, feeling too overwhelmed by his speech.

“Alright then, let’s see what you got after a short commercial break,” the MC cheerfully announced before I bolted out of the stage as I felt the stress crept into my head.

“Calm down,” Taeyong softly spoke as he approached me, holding my hand, drawing circles with his thumb. “You’ve got this. Just focus on me,” he added, flashing me a reassuring smile before kissing my knuckles.

“Awww… isn’t it adorable?” Someone snickered, and I didn’t need to turn my head around to know it was Doyoung. He was like a venomous snake, trying to sneak into our subconscious and make us even more anxious. It couldn’t be fair play.

“Buzz off,” I barked as I didn’t want to let him tick Taeyong off. Taeyong was my safety pin, and I didn’t want him to go full rage on Doyoung. Their backstage battle would make it to the news, but I’d rather prevent it from happening.

“With Seulgi on your arm, I was giving you a five percent chance of winning,” Doyoung started, ignoring my warning. “Now, when she’s gone, I won’t even have fun beating you on the stage,” he added, and I almost surged forward to punch him. If it wasn’t for Taeyong, who held me in my place, I’d definitely rearranged Doyoung’s face.

“Don’t let him get into your head,” Taeyong whispered into my ear, and I nodded my head, sighing. Then, it struck me. Doyoung’s motive wasn’t to mess with Taeyong but with me. He knew I was the weakest link, and he wanted to guarantee his victory by making me doubt myself. His words rung in my head, but one look at Taeyong helped me relax. We had practiced it a thousand times; there was not a chance I would make a mistake.

“Come on. Let’s go. They’re calling us out,” Taeyong mused, pulling me towards the stage.

The silence filled the auditorium when we got on the stage, taking our respective places. I stole a glance at Taeyong – he was mouthing words of encouragement seconds before the MC announced our performance.

I can hear it callin'

Loving the way you wanna talk

Touch me, tease me, feel me up

Callin', something in the way you wanna talk

On two sides of the stage, we moved to the rhythm, telling the story of two strangers lusting over each other from afar. With hunger in our eyes, we tried to seduce each other with sharp movements, showcasing our attributes.

You got me sayin', you got me sayin'

How you doing? Tell me what's your name (Ey, tell me what's your name?)

What's your sign? Feeling like you are into me

Taeyong ran up to me like a man enchanted by the siren’s voice, rolling his body against mine. It was his moment to shine; everybody’s eyes were on him as he owned the stage with his overflowing charisma.

Baby, we're two distant strangers

I know you don't speak my language

But I love the way she's talking to me (Talking to me)

I can hear it callin' from where you are

Loving the way you wanna talk

Touch me, tease me, feel me up

Touch me, tease me, feel me up

It was a classic game of cat and mouse. Though our bodies were so close to each other, we moved in perfect synchronization, careful not to brush against each other. The chemistry between us was undeniable, and the feeling of yearning was visible from the very last row.

Max, max, max, we can have it all (To the max)

If you back, back, back, back, back it up (Back it, back it)I'll take you where you wanna, got the gas in the tank (Wow)

If you really wanna make it last (Git, git, git)

Finally, as the song slowly progressed to the end, we were showing intense frustration. We were portraying two individuals, yearning for intimate contact, who were hastily losing their minds over uncontrollable passion.

I can hear it callin' from where you are (Callin', woo)

Loving the way you wanna talk (Love the way you talk)

Touch me, tease me, feel me up (Yeah, yeah)

Touch me, tease me, feel me up

The song was to end soon. The last chorus rolled in – it was our cue. After all teasing, we finally made the connection, ready to combust out of raw craze. After three minutes of painful longing, we were to reach completion.

I can hear it callin' from where you are (Callin', woo)

Loving the way you wanna talk (Love the way you talk)

Touch me, tease me, feel me up (Yeah, yeah)

Touch me, tease me, feel me up

It was all or nothing. We were finally together, touching each other with fervor.  The audience was eating our performance up – particularly when Taeyong showcased his flexibility and body control.

Tell me how you like it babe (How you)

I don't even know your name (How you, ey)

I love the way you're talking to me

It was finally time to finish our performance with a bang; we needed to show something spectacular, something Doyoung wouldn’t ever think about. As the singer began the last verse, it was my cue to run into Taeyong’s embrace. The second the last syllable rolled of the singer’s tongue, Taeyong caught me in his arms, and the lights went out to add a dramatic twist to our performance.

For a while, the audience was silent. However, a few seconds later, they roared in excitement, clapping loudly, showing how much they enjoyed our stage.

The MC was congratulating us, but I was too thrilled to register his words. I still couldn’t believe I performed on national television and didn’t trip and smash my face.

I had no idea how I found myself backstage, but there was a high chance Taeyong led me off the stage. I was too overwhelmed to do it on my own.

I even forgot that Johnny, together with Yeri – the love of his week, had backstage passes. I only remembered that when he wrapped his arms around me in a bear hug, congratulating me.

“You gotta quit that office job and start dancing professionally,” Johnny ordered, and I smiled, glad that he enjoyed my performance. “We both gotta quit. You’ll be dancing, and I’ll be a badass FBI agent.”

“You two were great,” Yeri politely said when Johnny let me go. “Thank you so much for letting me backstage.”

“No problem,” Taeyong replied as he grabbed my shaking hands. “Are you okay?” He asked, cupping my face, making me look at him. “You rocked the stage,” he added before he leaned forward to peck my lips.

Ignoring Johnny’s perplexed expression, I wrapped my arms around Taeyong in a comfortable hug. I hadn’t suitably introduced Johnny to the concept of me dating Taeyong, but hopefully, our interaction got the message across.

Emotions were slowly fading away, but I still needed Taeyong’s support. I was a rookie, and I had no experience with this type of stress. Something was calming about Taeyong’s aura; I couldn’t pinpoint what exactly, but I wasn’t going to question it.

“Anticipation is killing me,” I muttered against his skin. “Can he already go on that fucking stage?” I yelled, wondering why Doyoung’s performance didn’t start yet. I knew the MC was building up tension, but it was too much for me to handle.

“We could always skip,” Taeyong casually spoke, and I pulled away to look at him. What the hell was he talking about? I hadn’t agreed to help him out, so we didn’t wait until the end. “If we lose, we lose. If we win, your friend can accept the prize, can’t he?”

“Are you insane?”

“Maybe a little bit,” he answered with a bright smile, brushing stray hair off my forehead. “I just want to know the result already so we can go to Seulgi’s wedding and congratulate them,” he added, and I nodded my head. Though we couldn’t participate during the ceremony, the least we could do was to show up ridiculously late to the reception.

“Can they hurry the fuck up now?” I craned my neck, trying to find Doyoung and his partner. They were arguing about something right behind the curtain. Everything seemed they weren’t in the right headspace.

“I don’t think I want to see their performance,” Taeyong whispered, tightening his grasp on my waist. “How about a quickie in the dressing room? What do you say?” He proposed, and I smacked him, telling him to behave. It was tempting, but we really shouldn’t. I wouldn’t walk up that stage with messed-up post-sex hair.

“Get a grip,” I added, gently elbowing him. “Let’s just hit the snack table. I am hungry,” I spoke, pulling him away when the MC invited Doyoung and his dance partner onto the stage.

While munching on snacks, we stared at each other fondly. In some weird way, we were helping each other cope with anticipation and stress. Though it was tempting to check out their performance, we decided it was for the better if we didn’t.

They performed to “Hips Don’t Lie,” and it was almost impossible to turn my head around to check out Doyoung’s sick moves. Having considered all the videos I had seen of him, I was sure he looked gorgeous.

“What about a little peek?” Taeyong questioned, unable to control his urge to see his rival’s performance. “I thought I could endure it, but I can’t,” he added, and I nodded, giving in. Instantly, we ran to the nearest screen to watch their stage.

It was everything I imagined. Their moves were executed with precision and grace, but entertainment-wise, I was bored. They had the skills, but something about the general concept didn’t fulfill my expectations.

No matter how great of a dancer Doyoung was, he just could not pull this song off as the original artist did. Regardless of how hard he swayed his hips, it just didn’t live up to its potential. Though I wasn’t educated enough to give an honest review, it felt meh.

The audience in the studio whistled and shouted once they finished their performance, giving them a round of applause. With genuine smiles, Doyoung and his partner bowed before they ran off the stage.

Now, only thirty minutes of aggressive advertising, and we would know the winner.

“Is it too late to agree to that quickie?”

“You should’ve said so earlier,” Taeyong answered with an innocent smile as he reached to hold my hand. “The best I can do is cuddles,” he added, leading me to the couch, letting me rest my head on his shoulder. “It feels nice.”

“It does, but it doesn’t take my mind off things like a quickie would.”

“Don’t even try. I am not going on that stage with a boner in my pants,” Taeyong warned, peeling my hand off his thigh, pressing a delicate kiss against my knuckles.

Though it wasn’t as preoccupying as sex, it was still nice. And most importantly, it took our minds off the unbearable anticipation. A staff member actually needed to gently shake Taeyong’s shoulder to remind us that the MC was calling us to the stage.

Taeyong’s hand didn’t leave mine once we were waiting for the big reveal. It was fine if we lost. Next year, Seulgi and Taeyong would definitely make it to the top.

When the MC announced the winner, a few confetti bombs exploded. The audience roared in excitement, but I had no clue what was going on. Uncertainty was over – one of us won.

Stress, anticipation, and anxiety slowed down my reactions. However, I figured it would be weird if Taeyong picked me up and spun me around in his arms if we lost. It could only mean one thing – we did it.

We won.

Taeyong’s acceptance speech was short and simple. He thanked everyone who succored him discover his passion for dancing, who supported him throughout his dream, who directly helped him get this far, and me.

When I was handed the microphone for the first time that evening, I basically rephrased Taeyong words. Maybe it wasn’t my dream, but it felt damn good to assist Taeyong in achieving his. It was a bumpy road, but overall, it was all worth it.

The MC handed me a statue after shaking my hand, congratulating me once more. Taeyong, on the other hand, was gifted a huge check for 20 thousand dollars.

“Let’s go,” Taeyong whispered to me, running off the stage with me.

 ***

It was shortly before midnight when the Uber parked in front of the hotel where Seulgi’s and Irene’s reception took place. It was beautifully decorated with lights and flowers, making it look like a magical castle.

Though the security didn’t want to grant entrance, one of Seulgi’s aunts recognized Taeyong and told the man to let us in. She was nice enough to help us out, but she still found some time to glance disapprovingly at my stage costume. I wouldn’t be surprised if she gossiped to her entire family I was a prostitute.

As soon as we walked into the ballroom, Seulgi noticed us. She was sitting by the table, eating the wedding cake with Irene. In an instant, she rose from her chair and ran up to us, throwing herself on Taeyong’s neck.

“You won! I knew it!” She shouted as she gave Taeyong a bone-crushing hug. “Irene and I sneaked out for a while to watch your performance. You smashed them,” Seulgi added before she turned to me, congratulating me too.

“You were amazing,” Irene approached us, sending a polite smile. Unlike Seulgi, Irene was much calmer and collected.

“You are finally married,” Taeyong spoke, beaming. “You better have everything recorded. I gotta know every embarrassing thing that I missed,” he added in a teasing manner, earning a playful jab from Seulgi. “I bet you cried during your vows.”

“Congratulations,” I chimed in, breaking their friendly banter before it properly started. It was Seulgi’s wedding day, after all.

After we caught up, Seulgi and Irene walked off to the dance floor, leaving us by the table alone. For a while, we admired them. They looked absolutely stunning in their white suits, dancing, basking in happiness.

“Do you know where the gifts are held?” I inquired suddenly, looking around.

“Why? Did you have time to get them anything?” Taeyong asked before he stuffed his mouth with a chocolate glazed strawberry. “Or are you thinking of stealing some?”

“I just want to give them my part of the prize,” I started, making Taeyong choke on the fruit. “Seulgi’s the rightful winner, and I think it’s only right.”

“Are you sure? It’s a lot of money.”

“Yeah, I know, but I really want to do that,” I replied, fiddling with my fingers. “I don’t need this money, so I want to give it to her.”

“You’re so hot right now,” Taeyong said, making me turn my head in embarrassment. “If that’s what you really want to do, do it. But remember, you earned it.”

“I am sure.”

“Then let me spoil you with my prize,” Taeyong offered, staring into my eyes. At first, I thought he was joking, but when his gaze didn’t even falter, I understood how serious he was. “Well… look at that. What are the odds?” Taeyong spoke as a familiar melody echoed within the walls of the grand ballroom. “It’s our song. Shall we dance?”

Having glanced at Seulgi, who whispered something to the DJ, I smiled at Taeyong. Though I was sick and tired of Love Talk already, it was kind of our song. We had been listening to this song too much, and regardless of how good it was, the prospect of it being our anthem terrified me.

“One last time,” I gave in, accepting Taeyong’s invitation, letting him lead me to the dance floor. Despite having mastered the choreography to it, I just wrapped my arms around his neck, slowly waltzing to it.

“That’s nothing like we practiced,” Taeyong pinpointed, and I chuckled, shaking my head. “I don’t mind, though. It’s comfy,” he added as his hands found purchase on my hips.

“Seulgi doesn’t look pleased. She didn’t expect us to perform, did she?” I whispered into Taeyong’s ear, hugging him closer. “Also, it can’t be our song. We have to change it; the sooner, the better,” I complained, but Taeyong just chuckled into my ear, humming softly.

Instead of giving me an actual answer, Taeyong decided to sing it.

“I love the way you're talking to me.”

[homoose]

Love Has a Learning Curve: Part III (x reader)

Summary: Spencer has to face Anita and Sam— and learns a little about reader’s past. Reader and Spencer babysit for Michael and Henry. 

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader

Category: fluff, a tiny smidge of hurt/comfort

Warnings/Includes: implied smut, drinking/alcohol, vague mentions of previous emotional/mental abuse (Owen)

Word count: 4.2k

a/n: This picks up right after the end of the tmsidk epilogue! I also worked two requests in here.

Series Masterlist

———

Spencer stacked the last of the tiny chairs in the center of the room, stepping back and dusting his palms on his trousers. He looked over to see Y/N playing a sort of container tetris with the bins of supplies in her closet. He smiled a little to himself, his head still in the metaphorical clouds with her confession of love. 

She maneuvered the bins to her satisfaction and shut the closet doors, pushing against them to squeeze everything in until the latch clicked. She turned to see him watching her and wiped imaginary sweat from her brow. She gave him a wink and a grin, and he was falling all over again. 

She perched on the corner of her desk with a tired sigh, and he made his way across the room to her. She reached for him as soon as he was within arms length, wrapping her arms around his middle. She snuggled into his chest, and he pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “Let’s go to dinner to celebrate.”

She laughed and looked up at him. “Celebrate what?”

He shrugged. “You. Summer.” He brought his arms around her shoulders. “Love.”

She smiled and scrunched her nose at him. “You just want me to say it again.”

His lips twitched. “Maybe.”

Her hands came to rest on his hips, her fingers squeezing lightly. “I love you.”

“I love you,” he answered immediately and rather dreamily. 

“Yo, Y/L/N!” 

The call of her name from the hallway startled them both. Anita began to step over the threshold, continuing, “You ready to get absolutely crunk tonight or— oh.” She stopped dead in her tracks, eyes tracking Spencer’s frame. “Dr. Reid.”

Spencer stepped back from Y/N, smiling a little awkwardly at the formality and giving a wave. “Mrs. Lopez. It’s, um— it’s nice to see you again.”

Anita hummed noncommittally, and Spencer shoved his hands in his pockets. She turned her attention back to Y/N. “So, are we going out or what?”

Y/N groaned. “Anita, I’m exhausted. Can we keep it low key? Oh!” Her eyes lit up with an idea, and Spencer could already see where this was going. “Spence and I were gonna get dinner to celebrate, um— summer. Call Sam; we’ll all just go together.”

Anita spared a glance in Spencer’s direction before sighing heavily. “Fine. But I’m drinking.” With that, she turned on her heel and disappeared back into the hallway.

Y/N chuckled. “I swear she’s not actually an alcoholic.” Her eyes landed on Spencer’s face, and she smiled gently. “I know you weren’t expecting a Meet the Friends night, but it’ll be fun.”

“She hates me,” Spencer surmised.

“She does not hate you.” Y/N stood from the desk, pressed a reassuring peck to his lips. “She’s just… protective. That’s all.”

…

Y/N was entirely wrong. Anita Lopez hated him. That was the only explanation for her absolutely icy demeanor. 

They’d met up with her and Sam at a Mexican restaurant in Tenleytown. Sam was wonderfully kind and funny, even apologizing for having “flipped him the bird” the last time she saw him. And it was a good thing Sam was being friendly, because Anita was decidedly… less so. 

Spencer understood completely of course. He’d broken Y/N’s heart. Penelope had been ready to hunt her down at the mere thought of him being hurt. As Y/N’s best friend, Anita had every right to be wary of him. She had every right to hate him. He’d just... hoped that she wouldn’t. 

Thankfully, Y/N and Sam were more than happy to carry the conversation— he and Anita chiming in here and there. He learned that Sam worked as an attorney at a firm specializing in family law. She and Anita had two kids, Riley and Sidney— one in 2nd grade and the other in preschool. 

“Y/N is still Riley’s favorite teacher ever,” Sam told him. “I mean, it helps when she’s also your aunt, I guess.”

“He didn’t get any special treatment,” Y/N insisted. At Sam’s raised eyebrow, she laughed. “Okay, maybe a little special treatment. But you raised a good kid! And I can’t help it that he was the most trustworthy of the bunch.”

“Oh my god, the field trip,” Sam groaned, rubbing a hand over her face. 

“The field trip!” Y/N turned to Spencer. “My group of kiddos from two years ago— they were kind of a tough group.”

“Kind of?” Anita squeaked. “Let me just tell you, I can hear them through the floor. The entire middle school is literally dreading the day they make it upstairs.”

Sam piped in, “I chaperoned on said field trip to the zoo. And I vowed that I will never, ever go on another field trip. Ever.”

“What happened?” Spencer asked incredulously. 

“So many things,” Sam baited. 

Y/N covered her mouth to stifle a cackle, leaning a bit into Spencer’s shoulder. He couldn’t help but smile, looking around at the three women. Even Anita was chuckling, and she’d barely cracked a smile all evening. 

“Okay, so many things happened,” Y/N started, “but the worst was—”

“The poop!” Sam wheezed. “The poop was the worst part of that day. The smell alone, oh my god.”

Y/N composed herself as best she could, gesturing over the table. “So after this nightmare of a day, we get on the bus, and there’s this— smell.”

“The absolute worst smell you’ve ever smelled, Spencer,” Sam assured. 

“It’s awful. It’s so bad,” Y/N agreed. “And I’m literally going seat to seat, checking to make sure no one has shit themselves.”

“You could not pay me enough,” Anita chimed in. 

“And I get to the seat that is very clearly where the smell is coming from. And I can’t, like— hold my nose, right? I don’t want to embarrass him!” Y/N turned to Spencer with flushed cheeks. “So I ask, ‘Sweetheart, did you have a bathroom accident?’”

Spencer let out a nervous laugh. “Oh no.” 

“But oh, it wasn’t a bathroom accident,” Y/N clarified, waving her hand. “No, no— that would be too easy. This child had somehow managed to obtain copious amounts of poop from one of the zoo animals and packed it into his lunchbox to take home.”

Spencer could feel his jaw drop. “Oh my god.”

“So, he unzips his lunchbox and it’s just— overflowing with shit.” Y/N dropped her head into her hands, overcome with giggles. 

“And don’t forget the worst part: his mom was on the field trip!” Sam lamented, throwing her hands up. “I will never understand.”

Y/N lifted her head with an exasperated grin, and he wasn’t sure if it was the story or the fact that she loved him, but Spencer felt like he could float away into outer space. 

“I told you I had a lot of poop stories,” Y/N reminded him, drawing another round of laughs. As they composed themselves, the waiter came by their table to clear some of their plates and refill their water.

“God, I said we were keeping it low key, and then I drank half a pitcher,” Y/N complained, pushing back from the table. “I’m just gonna go to the bathroom. I’ll be right back.” 

She gave Spencer a reassuring smile, and he tried not to panic as she stood and left him with Sam and Anita. And because the universe was toying with him, at that exact moment, Sam’s phone began to ring. She pulled it from her pocket with a sigh. 

“Shit— I’ve been waiting on this call all day.” She kissed Anita’s cheek and stood from the table. “So sorry; I’ll just be five minutes, I promise.”

With that, it was just the two of them, staring intently at their water glasses. Spencer was certain he should say something, but he wasn’t sure what. Anita broke the silence first. 

“You know what’s annoying?”

Spencer wasn’t sure he wanted to know. “Considering that the issues one might classify as an annoyance vary for each individual person, there are over seven billion potential answers to that question.”

Anita tilted her head with an unimpressed purse of her lips. Spencer hedged, “And I understand now that it was probably rhetorical.”

“I actually kind of like you.” She leaned across the table with an irritated sigh. “I wanted to hate you, but I don’t.”

He cleared his throat. “Well, I’m, um— I’m glad to hear that.”

“You’re good for her. Smart, humble, kind. Enamored with her, as you should be,” she deadpanned. She dropped her chin into her hand. “Almost as hot as she is.”

He laughed a little at that. “Thank you?”

“You’re welcome.” She dropped her hand back to the table. She still didn’t crack a smile, and her gaze bore into him. “I don’t know how much you know about Owen, and she’d probably kill me for saying anything. But he was a real piece of shit.”

This was not the direction he thought this conversation would take. He didn’t know anything about Owen; he’d tried not to think too much about anyone Y/N might have been with before him. 

“It didn’t start out that way.” She drew her brows together. “Well, I don’t know— maybe he was always an asshole, and he was just good at hiding it.”

She shook her head and leaned back in her chair. “The point is, I didn’t know he was treating her like garbage until it was too late. He was already all…” She gestured wildly around her head. “In her head, telling her lies about herself, fucking her up, isolating her. For years he did that. And then it took her years to get him out of her head. To— unlearn all the lies. To build herself back up.” 

He could see her grinding her teeth, trying to calm down. He was intensely grateful to not be on the receiving end of Anita’s wrath. He was also immensely glad that Y/N had a friend like that. And his blood absolutely boiled at the thought of her ever feeling anything less than adored. 

“You’re a fed or whatever, so I shouldn’t be telling you this,” she continued, “but I would love nothing more than to put that fucker six feet under.” She ran her hand through her hair, and when she continued her voice was the quietest he’d ever heard it. “All that to say, I… I wasn’t there for her when Owen was destroying her from the inside out. And I will never let that happen again.” 

Anita locked eyes with him and her voice was resolved. “I like you, Spencer. And I want to keep it that way. So, just— don’t give me a reason not to.”

She didn’t drop her gaze, and he couldn’t quite think of the appropriate response. He opened his mouth, and then closed it again. His brain was still fixated on the idea that anyone had ever hurt the loveliest and kindest woman he’d ever met.

“Where’s Sam?” Spencer turned just as Y/N slid back into the chair beside him, a comforting hand coming to rest on his knee. 

“Some bullshit from the office that her idiot partner can’t handle.” Anita raised her eyebrows at Spencer, and he nodded minutely. She shifted her gaze back to Y/N with a grin. “Don’t worry. I didn’t scare him too much.”

…

“Easy.” Spencer steadied Y/N with a hand on her waist as they made the way up the stairs to his apartment. 

“Jesus, I’m so sorry. I just— really can’t drink like I used to.” She clutched a little at the railing, and he held his breath until they were at the top of the stairs. 

He slipped an arm back around her waist as they crossed to his apartment door, fumbling with his keys and fighting back a shiver as she snuggled close and ran her hand low over his tummy. 

“Can’t believe I’m tipsy from a couple margaritas.”

“To be fair, you had four,” he chuckled, turning the key and pushing open the door. 

“Okay, okay,” she relented. “But I used to be able to have a whole pitcher and be totally fine.”

“A pitcher?” Spencer laughed as he locked the door and turned to face her. “I can’t even have one without being completely incapacitated.”

She ran her hands up from his waistband, over his chest, and wrapped them around his neck. “Mmm, so you’re a lightweight.”

“Very much so,” he confirmed, bringing his hands to her hips. 

“Just one more sweet thing to love about you, sugar.” 

He couldn’t stop the smile from stretching across his face at the endearment, the way that North Carolina dripped syrupy and thick over every syllable. She pulled him down to meet her in a sweet kiss, quickly deepening it as he dug his fingers into the softness of her hips. Her hands wound into his hair, tugging lightly and holding him close. 

He broke away to rest his forehead against hers and catch his breath. She laced their fingers together and leaned on him while she kicked off her shoes. He toed his own off and then allowed her to lead him toward his bedroom. 

She sat him down on the edge of the bed and straddled his lap, bringing her hands up to tangle in his curls once again. 

Before she could lean in for another kiss, he murmured, “I’ve been thinking.”

“Sounds dangerous,” she teased, ghosting her lips over his.

“Ha, ha.” Part of him wanted to bring up Owen, but she was so happy and warm and comfortable in this moment. He didn’t want to ruin this night of celebration. He didn’t want to ruin this day that had been so full of love. They had plenty of time to discuss Owen. 

He wrapped his arms around her middle. “You’ve met Penelope. I’ve met Anita. Now that the school year is over… we could tell Michael.”

She pulled back, and the smile she gave him could only be described as radiant, and he knew he made the right decision. “He’s gonna lose his mind.”

…

A week later, the pair of them were strolling up the sidewalk to the LaMontagne house. Will and JJ were long overdue for a date night, and Spencer had jumped at the opportunity for the two of them to babysit. When they reached the door, Spencer rang the bell and Y/N waited slightly behind him. 

They could hear the joy from behind the door before it even opened, Michael’s high pitched giggle and Will’s booming laugh. Spencer was already leaning down in preparation, and Michael absolutely launched into his arms as soon as the door swung open. Spencer clocked the moment that Michael spotted her, purely because he practically squealed and squirmed right out of Spencer’s grip. 

“I knew it!” Michael cried. 

He wrapped himself around Y/N’s legs and squeezed tightly, and she rubbed a hand over his hair with a bewildered smile. Michael broke away to turn back to Will with a grin. “I told you.”

“You did, buddy.” Will gave Spencer a lopsided smile as Michael tugged Y/N forward by the hand. “Michael had an… inklin’ that uncle Spencer might be friends with Ms. Y/L/N.”

“Not friends, Daddy,” Michael said exasperatedly. “He’s her boyfriend.”

“Oh, excuse me, sorry.” Will held his hands up in apology as he stepped aside to let them all in the door. “Michael had a feelin’ that uncle Spencer might be Ms. Y/L/N’s boyfriend.”

Y/N’s cheeks had turned a very pretty shade of pink. “What— um, what made you think that?” 

Michael waited patiently for her to take off her shoes. “Well firstly, he started picking me up all the time, which was nice but weird. And then he wouldn’t stop asking about you. It was kind of annoying.” Spencer made a choking sound, and Will stifled a laugh. 

“You guys wear the same shoes, and you both love Halloween and tea and reading. I knew you’d like him if he could be a guest reader.” As he led her into the living room, Michael continued, “Oh, and you wore his purple scarf. He doesn’t let anyone wear the purple scarf.”

Spencer vividly remembered that morning— she’d slept over after a midweek date night in April. The temperatures in DC had plummeted overnight, and the outfit she’d brought left her woefully under-dressed for the chilly spring day. He’d wrapped her up in the soft, purple scarf without a second thought. 

She caught his eye with a shrug, and Will tried not to look too smug. Spencer watched her be dragged further into the house, turning to Will with a sheepish smile.

“Well, guess I can’t take all the credit,” Will decided. “Who knew we had a mini matchmaker this whole time?”

Spencer huffed out a laugh as Michael pulled Y/N into the playroom. “This is the best,” Michael sighed. “Now we can play restaurant forever.”

…

Spencer pulled his legs up in the tiny chair, resting his elbows on his knees and taking a moment to watch the scene in front of him unfold. Usually on nights like this, Michael ran him ragged with demands for magic tricks, story time, and playing pretend. Tonight, he’d actually been able to catch up with middle school (middle school!) Henry, because Michael was totally and completely enthralled by Y/N. 

She was helping with the last of the setup for the “restaurant,” organizing Michael’s menus and straightening his clip-on tie. Of course he’d seen her with kids before. But something about being in this playroom— one that he’d spent so many hours in, watching two of his favorite kids grow up— had him feeling warm from head to toe. 

Henry had bounded down the stairs at the news that uncle Spencer was dating his former kindergarten teacher. He hadn’t realized that she’d taught Henry, too, although with the timeline of her teaching career he should have put two and two together. The generally reserved middle schooler had positively beamed when she gasped out, “Gosh, I always forget how tall you’ve gotten!”

And now three of his absolute favorite humans were in one room, and he couldn’t stop smiling. 

“Hen!” Michael called. 

Henry turned from his spot in the chair across from Spencer. “What?”

“You’re the chef,” Michael informed him. 

Y/N tilted her head. “I thought I was the chef?”

“No, no, no.” Michael pushed her toward the kid-sized table. “You and uncle Spencer are on a fancy date.”

Henry rolled his eyes playfully and stood from the chair, pulling it out for her like a perfect gentleman. She beamed at him and gave him a wink. “Thank you, sir.”

She dropped lightly into the chair across from Spencer and laughed a little at his folded limbs. “You look very comfortable.” 

He laughed and stretched his legs out straight. “The picture of comfort, really. These chairs were clearly designed with six foot men in mind.”

“I’m sorry I’m so under-dressed for our fancy dinner date,” she teased, dropping her chin into her hand. 

“You look stunning, as always.” He gestured to the messy braid Michael had folded her hair into. “I especially love what you’re doing with your hair.”

She sucked in a dramatic breath, bringing up her hand to pat lightly at her hair. “You’re making me blush, doctor.” She peeked behind her and then lowered her voice. “I’m probably going to cry when I try to brush the rats out.” 

He looked at her sympathetically. “I know the feeling. I think I’ve got a wide tooth comb, and I can help. I’ve gotten pretty good at detangling Michael’s handiwork.”

Before she could respond, Michael made his way to the table, holding a dish towel over his arm. “Good evening, sir, madam.” 

“Good evening,” they chorused, with barely suppressed grins. 

“Compliments of the chef.” Michael held out his hand to reveal two slightly smushed strawberries.

“Oh, wow,” Y/N said, eyes wide and gesturing to Spencer. “Honey, do you want to—”

Spencer waved his hand, eyeing the berries warily. “No, no, please, help yourself.”

Y/N held back a smile and accepted the strawberries, holding them carefully in her hand and turning her attention back to Michael. “Thank you so much. What a wonderful appetizer. Could we hear the specials?”

That helped Michael remember the menus, and he pulled them from his pocket and cleared his throat. He handed them the construction paper menus. “Our specials tonight are roasted octopus and a steak tartar.”

From the kitchen, Henry mumbled, “Tartare.” 

“Tartare. Steak tartare is our special,” Michael corrected. 

“Hmm, I don’t know if I’m that adventurous. Maybe my boyfriend is though,” Y/N told a grinning Michael. “What do you recommend for a picky eater?”

“My favorite is the chicken nuggets.”

“Well then, sign me up. One order of chicken nuggets.” Y/N handed him the menu. 

Spencer was still perusing the menu for Le Chateau LaMontagne. He smiled at Michael’s handwriting, but particularly at the places where he could tell Y/N had helped. “Everything looks delicious,” he finally decided, “but, you know... I think I’m also going to have the nuggets.”

…

When the boys were finally in bed, Spencer and Y/N settled down in the living room to untangle the mess of her hair. She sat on the floor in between his legs as he gently pulled each braid strand free. He smiled at the way she arched up into his touch, shivering when his fingers brushed over her neck. 

“You’re lucky,” he remarked, laying the last braid strand back into its original place. “Michael seems to have gotten a little better at braiding.”

She leaned her head back into his hands. “You detangled the whole thing?”

“Mmhm.” He leaned forward to press a kiss to her forehead, then her nose, then her mouth. She brought her hands up to hold him against her, trying to deepen the kiss before laughing at the awkward angle and giving up. 

He sat up as she stood and moved to the couch, snuggling up close to him and tucking herself under his arm. “I’m very lucky,” she agreed. “For many reasons.”

Her hand drifted to rest on his tummy, her fingers immediately tracing little shapes over the fabric of his shirt. He pressed a kiss into her hair. “And tired, too.”

“Hmm?” 

He leaned his cheek against her head. “When you get tired, you, um— you start drawing on my stomach.” 

Her finger paused. “Do I?”

“Yeah.” She shifted to raise her head to look at him, and he shrugged. “I don’t mind. I’ve just— noticed.”

She smiled a little sleepily. “You know I love all of you. But I— well, I don’t know, really. I just like your tummy.” She gave it a quick squeeze. “It’s just— nice and comfy and perfect for resting on.” 

He covered her hand with his own and leaned forward to press their mouths together. She drew his bottom lip in between her own, sucking a little and then giving it a quick peck before pulling back and stifling a yawn into his chest. “Man, I am tired.” She snuggled back into him and resumed her tummy tracing. “What, um— what else have you noticed?”

He rubbed his hand down her arm and pulled her impossibly closer. “You like to play with my hair.”

“Mmmm, guilty as charged.”

He smiled at the sleep creeping into her voice. “I like it, too.” He ran his fingers up to her shoulder, and then back down to the crook of her arm, soothing her closer to sleep. “Hmmmm. You always have at least one point of contact on my body at all times. It’s usually your hands, but sometimes it’s your head or even your toes— like when you tuck them under my leg.”

“Ugh— I’m sorry. Clingy and putting my feet on you,” she mumbled.

She might have been joking, but Anita’s words were replaying in his head. He couldn’t change what had happened in the past. He couldn’t go back and prevent her from being hurt by someone else. But he could be different in every way. He could be open and honest and vulnerable with her like he’d promised. 

“I’m not sorry. I love all of you,” he murmured, pulling her in closer and repeating her words back to her. 

“Even my feet?” 

He could also show her that there was absolutely nothing that he didn’t love about her. “Especially your feet.”

She huffed a sigh into his chest. “Y’got a foot thing I don’t know about?”

He laughed a little at that. “Only for yours. They’re very cute feet.”

“You’re weird,” she muttered, but she hugged him tighter when she said it.

“You love it.”

Her fingers on his tummy had come to rest comfortably just above his waistband, and he knew she was on the very edge of sleep. “Mmhm. Love you.”

He thought of all the little moments over the past few months.

Doesn’t live up to expectations? Sorry for overstepping. Are we dating? Sorry for being clingy. Sorry for taking so long to tell you. Sorry. Sorry. Sorry.

“I love you, too,” he murmured. “So much.”

———

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