#getting a good grade in creativity... love and light

[pigswithwings]

hi hi hi just wanted to say that i think youre so cool. seriously. love seeing your ideas whether it's in writing or drawing or any other art form ...... always happy to see that you like my stuff too like yesss yesss that's the awesome mutual stamp of approval. hope you have a good day : ) !!!!

AHHHHH AHH OKAY!!! THANK YOU!! I LOVEYOU!!! HOORAY

[cherriegyuu]

so high school | kmg | part 1

pairing: hockey player mingyu x f!reader  genre: smut (in later part), fluff, a bit of angst, bad attempt at comedy word count: 8.8k summary: when you’re suddenly thrown in Mingyu’s direction, you have no choice but to stay by his side, and maybe it’s not as bad as you think playlist: click here a/n: i wanted to write a story that was light, summeryish. it was based off of taylor swift’s song so high school (i’m not that creative with names), i wanted to write that sort of cute romance we all just love. i truly hope you like it, this one is precious to me. thank you to @joonsytip for helping me with this one. please, remember to comment and reblog, it does mean the world to me and i would love to know your opnions.

< part two >

If there was one thing you hated about college, it was having to choose electives. For starters, you really didn’t want to be there. You were a good student because you had no choice, not because you absolutely loved college — not that your major was boring and you hated everything about it, but it really did seem like a universal experience to hate your chosen major at some point in college. But the problem was that taking the courses related to your major was hard enough as it was, you didn’t want to have to worry about subjects that might or might not add to what you were studying. Of course, you always tried to choose something that had at least a minimum to do with your major — Art History.

But there were times, like the previous semester when you procrastinated too much to choose one, that it simply wasn’t possible, and you had to put up with classes on Cultural Management. At first, you thought it would be geared towards galleries and the like, but it was something much more specific about public cultural heritage and that wasn’t what you wanted. At least the subject was easy enough. Just reading a few pages of Kira’s notes and listening to half of the lectures was enough to get you through with a high grade.

Trying to be a little smarter, and do something you actually enjoyed doing, you signed up for the semester’s classes as soon as they opened. You were already sitting in front of your computer when the clock struck 10 am. You chose a class that all of your classmates, or at least the ones you talked to, were interested in doing: Model Making.

It was something you enjoyed doing when you were younger. Your parents knew that if you simply disappeared or were too quiet — aka you weren’t yelling at Jeonghan — you’d be in your room surrounded by modeling clay, chopsticks, glue, brushes, and paint, or whatever materials you were using at the time. 

However, all of your dreams were shattered when you ran into Kira at the campus entrance. 

“You know, the teacher for this class is crazy. Your life is going to be hell” was like a cold shower.

After that, it was as if everywhere you went, people were purposefully talking about the subject, about how the teacher was absolutely crazy and that getting a good grade with her was almost impossible, and how she “seems to take a sick pleasure in failing students.” So when the day of class finally arrived, the first of the next six hellish months, you dragged yourself into the classroom. You chose the seat furthest away from her, hidden behind a student, and did your best to stay as out of sight as possible. 

The guy sitting in front of you turned around. He was smiling widely. You weren’t sure if he was trying to be friendly or what. 

“Do you know if what everyone’s saying is true?” 

There was something about him that was familiar. You obviously knew who he was, it was no secret. Everywhere you went, people were either whispering about him or there was a picture of him and the other guys on the team taped to the wall.

Kim Mingyu, star of the ice hockey team. The youngest to become captain, top scorer, the big sensation who would lead the university to the long-awaited championship. All that blah blah blah about the chosen athlete, and the latest savior of the nation.

So yes, you knew who he was, there was no way you couldn't know. But at that specific moment, while he was sitting in front of you, his body turned in the chair at a strange angle because he was obviously too big for that tiny chair, there was something about him that was strangely familiar.

"That the teacher is crazy?" he nodded, his eyebrows slightly arched and his lips almost forming a pout "I haven't heard anyone say otherwise, so I have no choice but to believe it."

You lowered your eyes and focused on the lit screen of your cell phone, which showed a new message from your brother. You didn't look away because you wanted to know what Jeonghan wanted, as far as you were concerned his message would only be read at the end of the day, if that. You didn't want to keep looking at Mingyu when you felt that everyone in the classroom was looking at you.

You knew it wasn't exactly true, there was no way an entire class, full of students talking to each other, could be looking at you at the same time as if you were doing something scandalous or even remotely wrong. But you knew there were a few people, and that was more than enough. It was a very familiar feeling, one you preferred not to revisit.

Even though you completely ignored Mingyu's presence or his gaze on you, he still hadn't turned around. Not even when the teacher entered the room and everyone fell silent.

The problem with being a child who didn’t have many experiences is that you become a fearful person. Everything seems big, larger than life, and sometimes everything seems infinite and far beyond reach. It’s a much easier choice to retreat into that familiar corner and pretend the world outside simply doesn’t exist. The bubble you created for yourself was small and admittedly, sometimes suffocating, but it was also comforting.

But everything can change when you meet people who aren’t aware of that bubble, or who didn’t create those spaces for themselves. They weren’t trapped inside it.

One class was more than enough to start a crack in your perfectly intact bubble. A selective introvert, as you liked to say. For a loud hockey player when he was surrounded by his friends, Seokmin was strangely shy.

When the teacher was choosing the pairs, you closed your eyes, praying to anyone who would listen not to pair you with a bad student, someone who wouldn't do anything and you would have to do all the work alone. The prayer, or whatever it was, was not heard because the teacher decided it would be a great idea to pair you and Seokmin. Maybe you were under the wrong impression, falling into the old suspicions and stereotypes, but you doubted very much that you would be able to get any kind of help from Seokmin.

And to be quite honest, after a bad experience with a group mate, to the point of ending up at the police station, because the guy simply couldn't accept the fact that you taking his name off the work was completely his fault and you simply didn't think it was fair that you did everything alone and he still got a good grade, you were okay with doing everything on your own. You were sure that if you opened your email, and clicked on your spam box because God was a witness to the number of emails you had received from that idiot, there would probably still be some unread emails from him, bragging that even with your “attempt” to jeopardize his education, he had managed to get a good enough grade to pass the class. 

Despite everything, Seokmin was nice and seemed interested enough, although a little lost, but maybe a little push in the right direction would be enough. 

“I took this class because I thought it would be easy,” he said laughing, a little shy, “I guess I was wrong.” 

You nodded, absentmindedly turning the page of your notebook with the notes you had made. 

“I took it because I like the idea of ​​building models.”

The classroom door opened with a bang, slamming against the wall. Everyone turned to him, some girls laughing. Mingyu was obviously late, his hair still wet from the shower, his backpack inside out on his shoulder, his shirt completely wrinkled as if it had just come out of a cow’s mouth. The teacher stood up and walked towards him slowly, her arms crossed over her chest.

“He’s screwed.” Seokmin laughed softly, or as softly as he could.

The teacher didn’t have a welcoming look in her eyes, if anything she seemed to be glaring at Mingyu, and not even the best smile he could throw in her direction would make a difference. In addition to being crazy, the teacher was also apparently known for not accepting tardiness.

It was impossible to look away as Mingyu tried, without any success, to open his mouth to explain, but the teacher wouldn’t let him say a single word. You and Seokmin suppressed a laugh when the teacher looked in the direction where she thought the noise was coming from before turning back to Mingyu, who seemed more desperate by the second. He looked lost standing in front of the older woman, his head lowered like a child who had misbehaved and was listening to a lecture.

Finally, the teacher dismissed him with a wave of her hands and turned back to her desk, completely ignoring Mingyu. He finally turned back to the desks, his eyes scanning the space before finally settling on Seokmin. Or… on you? There was no reason to believe he was looking at you, none at all. When Mingyu smiled, you went back to looking at your notes, flipping the pages almost compulsively, looking for anything and nothing.

You had no idea why your heart was behaving like that, beating almost animalistically inside your chest, or why you felt a single drop of sweat run down your spine — despite the air conditioning being on and you feeling cold. You could have sworn you could hear Mingyu’s footsteps going up the stairs, despite the sound of the students’ conversations around you being obviously much louder.

“At least I got something good for being late today.”

Mingyu pulled out the empty chair next to you and sat down, his knee bumping against yours. You flinched a little and moved away, making yourself closer to Seokmin.

“Sorry,” you said to Seokmin and turned to Mingyu. “Could you…?”

You waved your hand to make him move away. He looked confused for a second until he pushed the chair further away from you. On the other side, Seokmin covered his mouth, trying to stifle a laugh, while Mingyu glared at him.

“The teacher who chose your group?” Seokmin asked, still trying to suppress a laugh.

“She just said to sit with whoever wasn’t already in a trio”

You closed your eyes and took a deep breath. Great, you were stuck with two jocks who had probably hit their heads on the ice so much that their brains had turned to jelly in their early twenties.

“What do we have to do?”

“Build 3 models based on architectural periods.” When Mingyu widened his eyes, you added, “It’s the entire semester’s work. We don’t even have to come to class anymore, just the last one to hand it in.”

You started gathering the few materials you had taken out of your bag. The notebook and pen quickly disappeared into what Jeonghan called a black hole. “What goes in there never comes out again. If you look hard enough, you’ll find a wallet I lost in high school.”

“Look, I know I’m going to do this alone. I'll find a way to let you know the periods I chose and the artists and you guys study for the presentation.” 

You stood up, pushing the chair back with your knees, making a lot more noise than expected, which in turn made most of the people turn to see what was happening, including the teacher. 

“Wait,” Mingyu said, holding the strap of your bag. 

Not that you could get out of there anyway, he was between you and any possibility of leaving. But you thought he would get out of the way if he saw that you wanted to leave.

“I'll help, it's my job too,” with his free hand, he pointed to Seokmin behind you. “Ours, actually.” 

Despite the sincere look on his face, you laughed.

“Look, I don't want to offend you guys, okay? But the three of us know that won't happen. There will always be a practice, a game, a party, something that will stop you from doing your part of the work. I don’t mind doing it alone, it won’t be the first time, and considering I still have two more semesters to go, it won’t be the last. It’s okay, really.”

Mingyu stood up and for a moment you were sure he was going to get out of your way, but somehow he managed to block your path even more. You couldn’t help but wonder if he had always been this tall and wide. When he was around the other players it didn’t seem like it, but him standing in front of you…

“I said we’ll help” 

He took his phone out of his pocket and unlocked it, turning the device towards you.

“You know, your hands are huge, and this is a very delicate job” What exactly were you talking about?

“He’s more skilled than you can imagine,” Seokmin said. 

Once again, you closed your eyes and took a deep breath. The teacher was definitely crazy, and it seemed like she had some kind of personal vendetta against you. Or was it a curse cast by Jeonghan for staining his white shirts? Whatever it was, it was a problem that, at the moment, had no obvious solution.

“If I fail this class because of you two idiots, maybe one of you will lose a hand.” You snatched the phone from Mingyu’s hand, dialed your number, and quickly handed it back. “Maybe both of you”

You put your hand on Mingyu’s shoulder and pushed him back. You tried your best to avoid any kind of contact, but it was the only solution you could find to pass.

“It’s not a matter of life or death, you know?” he said, laughing.

“I’ve never failed in my life, and I’m not going to start now.”

Mingyu pushed the door open with perhaps a little more force than necessary. He wasn't angry, but he wasn't happy either, a strange feeling somewhere in between that he didn't like very much.

That first day he had seen you in class was like he had been transported back to high school. He could almost hear you saying, in the most disinterested tone in the world, "I've been waiting for you for two hours, could we please go home?" At that time he had also felt invisible to your eyes.

But so many years later, in that classroom, he thought you would recognize him. Mingyu thought, as naive as it may seem, that despite your disinterest at the time, at least you would know who he was.

Of all the people he could meet in that class, you were the last one that ever crossed his mind. It had been years since he had last seen you, since Jeonghan's last game, when he was crowned champion for the third time - an unprecedented feat until that moment. Mingyu had even tried to beat that record, but his runner-up position in the third year had prevented him from doing so. 

He had gotten used to seeing you from afar, always the unreachable sister of his captain, who always seemed to be much more interested in the books you carried around with you than in anything else. 

The truth was that you had never even directed a word in Mingyu's direction. Besides Jeonghan, he had only seen you talk to one other person, Seungcheol. It had never been clear to him if it was by choice or if it was because Jeonghan always said you were off-limits. Maybe it was somewhere in between. 

However, when you entered the room, looking for an empty chair, Mingyu expected you to recognize him, even though so many years had passed. When you walked up the stairs and seemed to be heading towards him, Mingyu, like a silly teenager, expected you to at least greet him. But you walked right past him as if he wasn't even there. 

Even so, he tried to talk to you. Something about the teacher being crazy and the look in your eyes said that you couldn't wait for him to shut up and look straight ahead again.

After that, it was like he saw you everywhere, and believe him, he wasn't looking for you. In the café that opened on the other side of the campus, in the library, when he went to return a book, in the hallway of the building, on the lawn. Mingyu spent five years without having any kind of contact with you and, suddenly, you were everywhere.

He chose to see it as a divine sign. As if the guy up there was saying "Now is your chance". And then, as if all these signs weren't enough, he was given the chance to do an assignment with you, almost like a gift.

"The door didn't do anything to you," Seokmin said laughing.

"Do you want to be the door?" 

Maybe the divine signal was broken, maybe the guy up there was messing with him because in less than 5 minutes you managed to extinguish any and all excitement Mingyu could have about doing the assignment with you. All you had to do was open your mouth.

“Dude, she just doesn’t remember you” Seokmin laughed again, having a little too much fun with the whole situation “If you say, ‘hi, I was your brother’s teammate’, she’ll still not remember you, but maybe she’ll be less hostile”

Mingyu highly doubted that was the case. There was a rumor that you hated everything and anything that had to do with hockey, your patience was less than zero. Jeonghan was the king of the ice, the best the sport could produce. You were the ice princess without ever having even put on a pair of skates – or so the gossip said. 

“It doesn’t bother me that she doesn’t remember me” It did bother him, but he wouldn’t admit it “It bothers me that she thinks I’m stupid”

Usually, under completely normal circumstances, Mingyu would even prefer to be seen as stupid and without anything in his head. It was easier, it prevented people from creating any kind of expectation about him. Strangely, he wanted you to see him as intelligent.

“You’re a bit contradictory, aren’t you? You’ve spent the last 3 years cultivating the image of a dumb athlete, who gets good grades by pure luck, despite the almost impossible subjects, but now you want her to think you’re smart”

“I didn’t know you knew how to use the word contradictory”

You stared at the lit screen of your cell phone. The unknown number was glowing and the inviting green button was almost begging you to answer the call. It was already the third time he had called and it would also be the third time you had ignored him.

“You know, it won’t hurt if you answer his call,” Kira said beside you, but she also knew that trying to convince you was a losing game.

Exactly 11 days had passed since the fateful class that had put you in a group with Seokmin and Mingyu. While you had no direct problems with either of them, besides them being hockey players, Mingyu’s insistence irritated you in a way that didn’t make much sense — not even to you. You should have felt relieved that he wanted to do the work, and that he was interested in participating. But the truth is that you knew how this worked, you had been in that situation before and hadn’t had the best experience.

Maybe you were a little too hard on him, it's true, but it's like the old saying goes: a scalded cat fears cold water.

“I want to keep as far away from him as possible.”

Kira rolled her eyes for what seemed like the twentieth time. She understood, to some extent, your dislike for players and also knew that a lot of it came from your brother, but in the case of Mingyu, specifically, you were definitely going too far.

“Look, the rumors are that he's a good student, actually. Always with high grades.” Kira tried to argue.

You knew the rumor well, even before you were put in the same group, in fact, much to your chagrin, Mingyu had chosen to be in the same group as you. That helped a lot with the huge reputation he had around the college. Handsome, athletic, good student. But you didn't believe it for a minute.

You didn’t know if Mingyu really had any good grades, but if he did, you were sure he hadn’t gotten them in the most… fairway.

“And he’s not unpleasant to look at at all.”

It was your turn to roll your eyes at him. Yes, Mingyu was gorgeous, breathtaking, the kind of guy that made you wonder if he was even real. You had eyes and they worked just fine, you didn’t need Kira to remind you that he was handsome. Saying Mingyu was handsome was like saying the sky was blue, obvious, and expected.

“You know I don’t mess with athletes.”

Finally, Mingyu had given up on the call, but that didn’t mean he had given up completely. Your phone only had a few seconds of respite before the screen lit up again, but this time with a ton of messages.

Unknown - 11:32

hi, it's mingyu

Unknown - 11:32

again

Unknown - 11:33

answer me, I want to talk about the project

Unknown - 11:34

you said you want to do it alone, but it's not going to happen, you know? I can't leave my grande in the hands of a complete stranger

Unknown - 11:35

I see you with your phone in your hand, take my call or reply to my texts

You lifted your head so quickly that you felt a twinge in your neck.

"Shit"

You looked around the cafe, trying to find Mingyu, but most of the tables were empty and none of the people standing in line looked remotely like him. You brought your face closer to the glass, trying to find the tall, broad figure, outside, and still didn't see anyone who could be mistaken for him.

yn - 11:37

I could report you for stalking

Unknown - 11:37

crime: wanting to do a college assignment

yn - 11:37

following me around, calling me non-stop, texting me. It could be considered stalking, yes

Unknown - 11:38

again, crime: wanting to do a school project

Unknown - 11:38

also, I wasn’t following you, I just happened to see you

yn - 11:38

I already said I'll do it alone

Unknown - 11:39

and I already said it won't happen, so if you could tell me your plan on how to do it, that would be great

“We have to admit, he's persistent”

Mingyu's messages became common and also at the most random moments possible. You were sure that the only time he hadn't sent a text was when he was at the game last Friday. You knew this because you had watched the game, with the computer with the sound turned down so that Jeonghan wouldn't suspect anything. 

You hated to admit it, but he was good at what he did. Dared to say it was even glorious. It was hard to believe that a man of that size, so wide, could infiltrate the smallest spaces and score the most unbelievable goals possible. He and Seokmin together were almost magical. They still couldn't compare to the duo of Jeonghan and Seungcheol, but that was already a very high level to reach. 

Mingyu had given up on sending you texts only about work, not that you had answered any of them, but he also started asking about your course, inviting you and Kira to go to one of his games – you still wondered how he had found out about your friendship since all of your social media profiles were locked and so were Kira's.

You had to agree with Kira, he was persistent. You could even say tireless. If you were him, you would probably have given up a long time ago, choosing to let the crazy guy do the work alone. But Mingyu was nowhere near giving up. You knew this because every time you miraculously ran into Mingyu, you had to run away from him, practically having to run away from him at some point.

It worked very well for a week until one day he simply appeared in front of you. You were distracted, your eyes glued to your phone. Jeonghan was gliding across the ice with skill when the player from the other team hit him hard, his body flying before falling to the ice. You felt the air get stuck in your lungs until he stood up, clearly irritated by what had happened. You felt like laughing when you saw the name on the other player's shirt, the one who had pushed Jeonghan. Choi. Best friends in real life, rivals on the ice.

“What are you looking at so focused?” a voice said next to him.

You felt like your heart was going to jump out of your chest as you tried to lock your phone and put it back in the bag. You wished you had been more graceful in the whole situation, to look less like someone who had been caught red-handed doing something they shouldn't have.

“Jeez, do you have no manners?” your voice came out louder than expected, causing some people around him to turn to see what was happening.

Beside you, Mingyu smiled, pleased with himself for having gotten some reaction beyond furrowed eyebrows and a look of disgust.

“Were you running away from me?” he raised his hand and corrected himself, “Not right now because you clearly had no idea I was here, but in general.” 

You rolled your eyes and quickened your pace. You didn’t really have anywhere to go or anything to do, there were still 50 minutes until your next class and there was no time to run home and hide. Would it be too pathetic to hide in the bathroom and wait for him to leave? With your luck, he would be waiting outside, even if it meant missing a class. 

“Why would I do that?” 

Mingyu crossed his arms over his chest. For the first time in your life, you wished someone was ugly, devoid of any kind of muscles or attractive qualities. You wished he was ugly, terrible to look at. You wished the sun wouldn’t make his skin shine, you wished you didn’t find the mole on the tip of his nose cute, wished you hadn’t wondered if maybe all this insistence of his didn’t have some extra reason, besides wanting to get the work done and obviously annoying you. Of all the things, you wished you hadn’t been disappointed when you hadn’t seen him for a day.

It was ridiculous, you knew it was. But whatever it may be, there you were, your heart pounding, feeling it throb in your neck. You wouldn’t fool yourself into thinking it was just because you were surprised by him suddenly being by your side. You could fool others, but at least you had to be fair to yourself.

“I don’t know, you tell me.”

Even though you knew it wasn’t a good idea, you stood still. You knew it would only attract more attention, it was almost inevitable when Mingyu was by your side. 

“Okay, I was. I don’t want to be seen with you.”

Mingyu looked confused, his head lolling to the side as if he was seriously thinking about what was happening. The question mark was clearly written on his face. It was almost as if one was floating above his head.

“Mingyu, look. You, in and of yourself, are not the problem. I mean, in part, it is, but you know, it's that old story, the problem is me, not you.”

“I honestly thought the problem was just the assignment.” He scratched his head, his eyebrows still furrowed. “You think I'm stupid and that kind of thing.”

You took a deep breath, your eyes closed for a second. You hadn't explained the situation to him, you had no reason to, so he had no way of knowing. But you also didn't want to expose your life to a stranger, so you weren’t willing to just tell secrets you’d never said out loud.

“If I tell you I’ll let you guys do your part, will you stop following me? It’s a little weird, and maybe even a little creepy.”

Your words were honest, it was weird and creepy at the same time. It didn’t make sense. Wouldn’t it be much easier for him, and for Seokmin, to just let you do everything yourself so they could focus on whatever was important to them? In your opinion, it was the easiest thing for everyone.

But Mingyu looked like a dog with a bone. A terrible analogy, but it made sense, at least to you.

“Yes,” a direct answer, great.

“Let’s do it like this then, let’s chat via text about the artists we think are cool, which are the most interesting. Once we’ve reached a consensus, we’ll get together to start making the models.”

You took a step back and held out your hand. A peace offering.

“We have a deal then.”

If regret killed, you would have been dead and buried so long ago that you would have turned into fertilizer. Logically, you knew that trusting Jeonghan was a mistake. You loved your brother with all your heart, but you also knew that he wasn't the most trustworthy person for certain things.

If you were in trouble and needed help? He was definitely the right guy for the job. He wouldn't say a word in a judgmental tone and, depending on the situation, he would go far enough to pretend it never happened. Now, if it was a request that he considered silly, then it was a lost cause. 

Besides all that, Jeonghan liked to play pranks, and you were one of his favorite victims. Things could even get a little out of hand when he and Seungcheol got together. It was like having two completely devilish older brothers. In truth, Seungcheol alone wasn't even that bad, but when he got together with Jeonghan it was like someone had opened the gates of hell. 

Even knowing all this, you had talked to him. You knew the house was his, that he could come and go as he pleased, but thought that if you played the little sister card well enough he would let it go.

"Some friends from college are coming over tomorrow, can you please not show up at home?" you asked, making your best puppy-dog-that-fell-out-of-the-moving-truck face.

"You don’t want me to meet your boyfriend?" he laughed, looking away from his phone for a second before returning his attention to the device.

You closed your eyes. Something was going on. Jeonghan was really into his phone, much more than usual. Either some nonsensical rumor had been published, which he would have already shown you and laughed along with you when he read the absurdities written; or he had a bone in his body, also known as a girlfriend. He always got more into his phone when he had someone more serious in his life.

It was useful information to have, so you put it in a little box in your mind labeled "something to blackmail Jeonghan with later" For now it was just speculation, but it could be important.

"How many boyfriends do you think I have?" You grimaced, shaking your head. “But no, none of them are my boyfriend. They’re just some guys I have to work with. I thought about doing it here because we need space and I’m sure I’ll yell at one of them sooner or later.”

You weren’t in the habit of bringing people home. Jeonghan was a person who really liked his private life to remain that way, private. Even with Kira, who was your closest friend, you had a hard time taking her home. Not because Jeonghan had asked. He knew that if you were asking, it was because you needed to or because you trusted those people enough to know who your brother was without it becoming a problem.

In fact, you weren’t sure of anything, not that you needed them or that you could trust them. But Jeonghan wasn’t one of those celebrities who had huge photos of themselves scattered around the house. It’s a little creepy, to be honest, he had said once. So the few photos he had around the living room were in normal-sized picture frames, which his mother had put up when she visited, so they could be easily hidden. The lie about the rich brother who works in the stock market was always on the tip of your tongue in case someone could question why you lived in a penthouse.

"I don't understand what's wrong with me being here then" His indifferent tone of voice was dangerous.

Maybe it would be better to give up.

"First because I don't need supervision, the virginity ship sailed a long time ago" 

It might be a good idea to talk about something he didn't like to talk about, like your past relationships. He could joke all he wanted, but at the end of the day, he was just a guy who didn't like knowing that his younger sister had boyfriends.

"For the love of god I don't need to know that in detail" He grimaced, pretending to vomit. He was such a good actor that he had even turned pale.

"And secondly, because they play hockey. Since there's no way they don't know who you are, I'd like to not witness another fanboy" 

You knew you had said the wrong thing when you noticed that gleam in Jeonghan's eyes. Even his expression had changed when you told him that your groupmates played hockey.

Still, you chose to believe him when he said he would be out of the house all day, that he would even go to Seungcheol's house after practice — which you thought was a lie, considering the whole situation with not putting down his phone and running when a notification came in. He had gone as far as to say, “let me know when it's over, so I can come home.” That's why you sent a message to the group chat with Seokmin and Mingyu asking if they had Tuesday night off.

A part of you, a very big part, thought they would deny it and make up any excuse not to show up, but it was almost as if they both had their phones in their hands waiting for your message.

And so, the three of you were sitting at Jeonghan's huge dining table. It was the kind of furniture that existed only to take up space, you always ate in the kitchen.

“You live well” Seokmin commented.

It was funny, and almost cute, how completely clumsy he was. You had bought different types of materials to test, thinking about which one would work best. Seokmin had changed several times, the last attempt was the biscuit.

“My brother earns well” you shrugged, hoping he wouldn't ask anymore.

To your surprise, he didn't ask. Which was a relief, you didn't want to lie.

Even without looking up, you knew Mingyu was looking at you. He didn't try to hide it at all. It was uncomfortable, but at the same time, it was flattering.

You rested your chin on your hand and stared at him too. Ever since the first day you had seen him in class, you had the feeling that you knew him. You didn't know where from, you didn't know how. It wasn't from college, it wasn't from the posters spread around, or from the fame he had. It was from before, before college, but you didn't know where. You were sure he wasn't in any of the courses you took and he wasn't from your school either, there was no hockey team.

“Where do I know you from?” the words came from your lips, but it was a question asked much more to you than to him.

Mingyu simply tilted his head to the side and didn't say a single word. Seokmin, who until then had his head down, his brow furrowed in concentration trying to shape the white mass in his hands, looked up, almost startled by your words.

It was as if a light bulb had been turned on over your head. It was so ridiculously obvious that you would be able to kick yourself.

And with perfect timing, as if it had been sent from heaven, programmed to the exact seconds, you heard the living room door open. A second later, Jeonghan was in the room.

��Mingyu?” Jeonghan said, his eyes darting from side to side, trying to understand what was happening.

“Captain,” Mingyu said, smiling.

You wished a hole the size of Mount Everest would open up beneath your feet and swallow you whole as you watched Mingyu stand up and greet Jeonghan as if they were old friends who hadn’t seen each other in years.

That was obviously true.

“You know each other” It wasn’t a question, it was a simple statement.

“Yes? Mingyu is a few years younger, but we played on the same team.”

Suddenly a brief movie flashed through your head, of all the times you had seen Mingyu — or at least the times that were never erased. Mingyu walking next to Jeonghan one of the times you were waiting for your brother in the school parking lot, him at the games, sitting on the bench completely irritated by the fact that he couldn’t play and the team was losing. He was a boy who was clearly too skinny, but somehow he had become that man in front of you.

“She doesn’t remember me,” Mingyu said with a laugh.

Was that a hint of resentment you heard in his voice? You hoped not, but maybe if you were in his shoes you would be resentful too. You hoped he hadn’t talked to you that first day because he expected you to recognize him and every time after that. Because most of the time you had been a complete jerk to him.

“Wow, you saw him literally every day for at least two years.”

It wasn’t like you weren’t already embarrassed enough on your own, of course, Jeonghan, in his best big brother role, had to add fuel to the fire. You hoped your cheeks weren’t as red as you felt them hot.

If the smile on Mingyu’s lips was any indication, you were completely screwed.

“I only remember Cheol. He was the only one you let get close to me.”

It was a futile attempt to defend yourself, but it was the only excuse you had. It was also the truth.

“That’s true,” Mingyu agreed, sitting back down.

It wasn’t a big secret that Jeonghan had forbidden all his teammates from getting close to you. It wasn’t like you desperately wanted their company anyway, so it was a win-win arrangement.

“You were a pain in the ass,” which was just another shovel of dirt for someone who was already buried, right?

“I was protecting you? The guys on the team…” he tried to defend himself, feigning offense.

You simply waved your hand at him, dismissing any kind of explanation he might have offered.

“They were teenagers full of testosterone and hormones. Not much has changed, you know.”

The three of them were startled when Seokmin slammed the table, his eyes wide as he stared at Jeonghan. For a few minutes, you had forgotten he was there.

“You are Yoon Jeonghan’s sister?” His voice had suddenly become shrill to the point of echoing in the room.

The laugh that escaped your lips was partly incredulous and partly desperate. Mingyu remembered you, but he hadn’t told anyone—not even his teammate—probably because he remembered it was something you kept people from knowing. In a way, you knew your secret's safe with him. But you didn’t know if you could trust Seokmin in the same way.

“He’s kind of slow sometimes.”

Mingyu pushed Seokmin out the door, hoping he would finally stop talking. His friend hadn’t realized the discomfort he had caused you yet. Jeonghan, as always, didn’t seem to care and on some level, he actually seemed to enjoy all the attention he was getting.

“It’s been a while since someone got this excited to see me,” he said, laughing when Seokmin went to the bathroom.

Either Jeonghan hadn’t realized how quiet you had been, or he had simply chosen not to do anything about it. Mingyu couldn’t be sure of the older man’s intentions, not at that moment or when they were still at school.

But you? You were like an open book, almost begging to be read. You obviously didn’t say a word, but your face showed how uncomfortable you were with the whole situation, how embarrassed you were for not remembering Mingyu as soon as you saw him.

Without you noticing, Mingyu spent a lot of time observing you. In a way, it was easy to know what you were thinking. Of course, a lot had changed in the years you hadn't seen each other, but many things were still the same.

“He won't tell anyone about your brother.”

Mingyu pushed Seokmin again, this time towards the elevator, and turned to you, who was holding the door, your gaze almost lost.

“It's okay.” you took a deep breath before straightening your spine and forcing a smile. “Eventually, everyone will know.”

He shook his head and put his hand on your shoulder, leaning his body forward slightly so his eyes were leveled with yours.

“You have my word,” he promised, voice low “Seokmin won't open his mouth. Your secret will still be a secret.”

You nodded, but Mingyu knew the gesture was just to make him leave faster.

“You should go,” you said before closing the door, without waiting for Mingyu's response.

If he could, he would suffocate Seokmin right there in the hallway, but then the security cameras would see him and that would become a problem. He entered the elevator in silence and pressed the button for the ground floor. Beside him, Seokmin was practically thrilled with the discovery he had made an hour ago.

“When you said you knew her from your old school, I would never have imagined that,” he said, laughing. “I thought she was a girl who went to the same school as you.”

Mingyu chose to remain silent. He expected Seokmin to eventually get tired and simply stop talking, but he should have known better. His friend had too much energy to simply stop. In fact, it was a surprise that he had managed to stay quiet for two hours before Jeonghan arrived. And even after he arrived, Seokmin had remained standing in the same place. He spoke faster than ever and looked at Jeonghan as if he were seeing a god in person, but still, standing in the same place.

God knew it was almost impossible to convince Seokmin to stay still for long.

“I don’t understand why she hides the fact that she’s his sister. It’s basically the nicest thing anyone can say. Imagine going around saying ‘my brother is Yoon Jeonghan’”

Mingyu sighed and crossed his arms and sighed, rolling his eyes. Of course, he would.

“Remember that time your sister complained that a girl tried to befriend her because she wanted to go out with you?”

“It happened a few times, actually.”

Mingyu stayed silent, waiting for all the dots to connect in Seokmin’s head without him having to actually say the words. Under normal circumstances, Seokmin would have understood and kept quiet, but he was too excited after meeting an idol god to realize the full context Mingyu was trying to give him.

“That happens to her all the time. She didn’t even go to the same school as us. She really does everything so no one knows she’s his sister. Didn’t you notice there’s no picture of them at home?”

Seokmin laughed, as if the question was too stupid, causing Mingyu to narrow his eyes.

“Dude, you’re the one who’s into her, not me. I don’t care about whose picture is in her house.”

Would anyone find it a problem if Mingyu strangled Seokmin until he passed out and then took him back home? In Mingyu’s eyes, he would be doing everyone around him a favor. It would be a night of silence and peace for everyone involved — in this case, just him, but no one needed to know about it.

“Either way, you can’t tell anyone about this,” he warned once more.

He had made a promise to you and he would rather cut off an arm than break it.

“Not even to the team?”

Mingyu scratched his head before crossing his arms again, with much more force than necessary. Finally, the elevator reached the ground floor and Seokmin was faster than Mingyu to get out, almost running down the hall to the gate.

Mingyu briefly greeted the doorman with a nod before following his friend.

“Especially to the team. No one can know. It's like a federal secret, you know?”

Mingyu grabbed Seokmin by the arm, making his friend stop and look at him. He hoped it would be enough for him to understand that he wasn't kidding, that it wasn't some kind of joke.

"Jeez, so much drama."

He got away from his friend and quickly opened the car door and got into the passenger seat.

Once again, Mingyu took a deep breath, his eyes closed. Maybe he shouldn't have promised you anything, not when the promise had nothing to do with him, and when there was a possibility of everything going wrong, then he would have to bear the burden of someone else's mistake.

"Seokmin," your voice was a warning tone. He opened the car door.

"I won't say anything!" his friend almost shouted.

"You're terrible at keeping secrets," he sighed, almost defeated.

"Nobody knows that you're actually super smart," Seokmin scoffed. "I never told on you, you know."

When you finally managed to get Mingyu and Seokmin to leave, you were beyond exhausted. It was late, already past 10 pm and you had to wake up early for class the next day. At least you would fall into bed without much trouble and you were sure that you would black out almost instantly. Except for the idea that from that moment on it was likely that the entire college would know who your brother was.

You always knew that this day would come, you just hoped it wouldn't be during college, a college that had a good hockey team — well, it was almost unfair, they were fantastic — and that lived and breathed the sport. If the news really needed to get out, you wanted it to happen when you were far away from there, in an environment where few people would like the sport. Of course, you were living off stereotypes, but you preferred to believe that you wouldn't have many colleagues who liked the sport, or that if they did, they would be indifferent.

With a sigh, you began to gather the materials that were scattered around the table, cleaning up the mess left behind. Seokmin wasn't wrong when he said that Mingyu was more skilled than expected. The prototype he made was delicate and almost perfect. Working with him wouldn't be complicated at all. With Seokmin too. He was more absent-minded, but he wasn't bad either. He could do the rough part of the work and you would refine it until it was perfect.

“Sis”

Jeonghan's voice sounded behind you and you chose not to answer. You were irritated with him for so many reasons that you didn't even know where to start, or what to say to him. You had made it explicitly clear why you didn't want him home. And, although he had never necessarily liked your reasons, Jeonghan had always respected you. If you said you didn't want something, he accepted it. But this time he had crossed all the limits.

“Sister” he tried again, this time a step closer to you.

You rested your hands on the table and leaned your body forward. 

“You know, I know that I live in your house, that you’re the one paying for my college, and that all the comfort I have here is because you pay for everything, so you can kind of do whatever you want. But this is my life.” 

You continued to put the things in the box and went to your room. You didn’t close the door because you knew Jeonghan would follow you. 

“I don’t understand what’s wrong with people knowing that I’m your brother.” 

You shook your head as you sat on the bed. He clearly didn’t understand, he never had, but he had always respected it. Apparently not anymore. 

“It’s not middle school anymore and you’re not 13 anymore. Just tell them all to go to hell,” he tried to reason, sitting in front of you. 

Jeonghan’s eyes were affectionate, without a hint of judgment. He just wanted to understand what was going on, because it was so important to you that people didn’t know.

“I didn’t change schools because girls were all over me because they wanted your number. I can’t say it didn’t affect my decision and it was the perfect excuse. But that wasn’t all.”

You didn’t know how to continue, didn’t know how to say everything without Jeonghan getting upset. Because you were sure he would.

“I didn’t want to be compared to you anymore.”

Your voice was almost a whisper and you didn’t dare look up, or in Jeonghan’s direction. You didn’t want to see the look of disappointment on his face, because you knew he would be disappointed. Not because you were feeling that way, but because you never told him anything.

“The teachers always talked about how smart you were, that despite sports you always got good grades. And I remember how you were back then, and you barely tried, but you were good at everything. I tried so hard and it was never enough.”

With each word that left your mouth, your voice got lower and weaker. When you said the words out loud, when they weren’t just cloistered in your mind anymore, they sounded almost pathetic. Jeonghan had never put any kind of pressure on you, quite the opposite. Your brother always made sure that you were you, an individual different from him.

All the ideas and traumas you had were not directly caused by Jeonghan but somehow had to do with him.

Jeonghan sighed loudly and leaned forward until he could hold your hand.

“Being good at school doesn’t mean anything, it’s just school. No one cares about it after a while.”

The laugh you let out was one of complete mockery. Jeonghan really had no idea what could be going through your head, the things that had happened and were still happening. Not that you blamed him for that, he had no way of knowing if you didn’t tell him what was going on, but part of you just wanted him to pay attention. If he paid attention, even the slightest bit, he would know.

The fact that he didn’t understand was painful.

If it were just the school teachers, it would be fine. Like he said, no one cares about school after a while. Do you know who cares about school, regardless of the moment? Parents. Parents who aren't necessarily bad, just parents who think that comparing one child to another is an excellent incentive. An incentive so good that they still do it.

Deep down you know that it's not out of malice, that it's not because they want to see you down, but it's an inevitable consequence. And, in a way, they were already so intrinsic in the conversations, little notes that didn't even seem like real comments, that you were sure that Jeonghan didn't even notice them.

"Okay," you said, just wanting to end the conversation. "I'll talk to both of them tomorrow, and apologize to Mingyu."

Jeonghan nodded, knowing full well that the conversation was over and that even if he pressed, he wouldn't be able to get anything else out of you.

"I have to leave early tomorrow," he said, "but if you want, can we have dinner together and talk about it?"

"I'll accept dinner, but I'll skip the talk."

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[minkieater]

three fates ⟶ khj ⋆ ★

p. kim hongjoong x f!reader w. lots of drug use, and i mean a lot, so please if u don't like drugs don't read this !! 18+ there's smut too, minors dni PLS addiction, consumption, sex while intoxicated, age gap (18 and 22/21 and 24) lemme know if i missed anything!! wc. 13.6k <3

she's finally here <3 my baby!! i am in love with this, this is my favorite thing i've written, city boy joongie is my heart and soul. takes place in the same world as luck & carousel, but none of the characters we've met so far are here !!

♫ — one of these nights, the eagles “i’ve been searching for the daughter of the devil himself i’ve been looking for an angel in white i’ve been waiting for a woman who’s a little of both i can feel her but she's nowhere in sight”

hongjoong is an artist, a creator. everything he’s ever seen, touched, smelled or heard, every little thing he’s ever come in contact with could and has been used in his art in one way or another. he couldn’t help himself, he saw the beauty in everything, from the gloaming atop the horizon of the hudson river on the third day of his bender to the massive rats playing tag in the subway station in downtown brooklyn. 

his clothes, his jewelry, his music, his apartment, his friends… everything and everyone is gorgeous, it has to be that way. the well of his creativity never runs dry, not living in this city, not with the life he’s created for himself. 

coming from a small brownstone in brooklyn, he lived with his parents and younger sister, a quiet girl that was nothing like him. he was always the rambunctious older brother, could never keep his grades up, couldn’t go a week in school without getting in trouble. she, the scholar, was his parents’ shining star, as well as his own. he hoped she wouldn’t be anything like him, anything like their father. 

he’d never compared himself to her, he knew he was just wired differently, a chemical concoction in his head that made him who he was and he loved it. he couldn’t picture his life, himself, any differently. he could never stay focused on one thing, always moving to the next project, always bouncing from opportunity to opportunity. 

when he got into high school reality set in of where he lived, who he surrounded himself with, what exactly was accessible to him at all times. from alcohol to drugs to shows to backstages to underground raves, hongjoong learned very quickly the different paths he could take, the routes his life could go in. 

he was a junkie, a junkie for adrenaline, for excitement, for anything this godforsaken city had to offer him. so he experimented. 

his friends were just like him — loud, outspoken, covered in piercings and tattoos, much too young to have gotten them done professionally. they looked for nothing but a good time, they didn’t care about school, didn’t care about their futures, they cared about a sick guitar riff and how much their dealers were charging for an ounce of weed. 

like his father, they introduced hongjoong to good music. growing up he listened to all his father’s favorite bands, from alice in chains to black sabbath to pearl jam, it set a tone for his future, laid the grounds for what the following decade of his life would look like. he spent weeknights, weekends, every night he wasn’t watching his younger sister he’d be at a different show in the city. no name bands, ones that were trying to get a foot in the door to the music industry to DJ sets at underground raves, blinding shows with flashing lights and a thumping bass he’d end up rolling at every damn time. 

hongjoong’s friends introduced him to many, many things, but his favorite would have to be cocaine. feeling on top of the world, like he can accomplish anything and everything, hongjoong adored the white powder he often sniffed with a crisp dollar bill. his personality alone was akin to it, he bounced off the walls all by himself, but during a night of drinking the main thing that kept him going, pushing through until sunrise was the bag full of blow in his back pocket. 

it got him through high school, it made him pay attention, it made him ask too many questions in class. it gave him confidence, he felt like the most attractive person in the world, like he was at the top of the food chain. it made him optimistic toward his future, he knew he’d become successful no matter what he did whenever he was at the peak of his high. 

what he despised about blow was the come down. from feeling untouchable to drained of everything he was worth in about all of forty five minutes, that he couldn’t stand. the one solution, the only solution that every single one of his friends had given him: “joong, you just need to do another line.” 

so he did, he always did more, but one thing about cocaine is that you never feel as good as that first line, the one that makes you untouchable, unstoppable, unkillable. he never thought he’d feel that again, that beautiful, unique euphoria, until he was a freshman in college, at a grimey city nightclub’s show of your band’s debut. 

he watched you in awe, blown pupils taking in every last detail of you strumming your guitar. how your fingers moved from string to string, black painted fingertips going white from the pressure. how your hair flowed in the air as your head banged to the drums, how your red lips stained the microphone when you sang into it. he grew up listening to music, he spent years listening to great bands and really terrible ones, by now he knew the difference. 

he knew then and there what field his career would lay in. dirt caked the floor he stood on, posters and receipts and papers of the sort covered the walls, the disgusting nightclub he now owed everything to offered him two things, you and the chance to make something of himself. 

he knew your band was special, knew you had the raw talent to make it big. he wanted to see it, he could picture it now, your faces stretched across a billboard in times square. it was exciting, this feeling that flushed through him, knowing he was watching celebrities perform before they had their break, their break that would come soon if they just had someone to sign them. 

he did everything in his power to wait diligently for your set to be over, already knowing that he and his friends would make it backstage, a routine for them every time they came to these shows. his head nodded along to the music, a can of beer in his hand, his hair tickling the back of his neck every time the main singer hit a note he himself couldn’t. 

when your band finally made their last bow, thanking the crowd for their attendance and cheers, hongjoong felt the adrenaline in his fingertips. he was so, so close to meeting you, telling your band what he thought, buying you a drink. so close to taking you back to his dorm, untying your skimpy black bikini top, learning your tattoos to memory. 

he usually went for the drummer — that he knew by now. after a few lines and a six pack he would ache to be bent over, or be the one bending someone over, that didn’t matter to him. what did matter was that he wanted a good fuck, he planned on it, he craved it, from trial and error his eyes always landed back on the drummer. it hasn’t failed him yet. 

he wasn’t sure what made you different, why you caught his eye on the small stage, what stopped him from eyeing up the green haired drummer he couldn’t place. you were magnetic, with your bulky boots, revealing clothes, intriguing tattoos and piercings all up your ears. he wanted to smear the lipstick you wore down your chin, wanted to see it all over himself, prints of crimson running down his torso. he shivered, desire crawling up his spine when he pictured it, it was too easy, your stage presence was like no other.

when he got backstage and first saw you sitting on the torn up couch, handheld mirror in your grasp with three perfectly parallel lines laid across the glass, the confirmation was instant. you had a debit card on your lap, a rolled up dollar bill, sunglasses and that very lipstick he was fantasizing about laid across your thigh. a smile broke out across his face, one wicked and knowing, one that told everyone in the room hongjoong had found his game for the night. 

you looked up to him from the amber colored couch, patches of questionable browns and grays mimicking a pattern across the rough material. your pupils were blown, huge and empty, matching the ones that stared back into them. the room backstage was small, a space he deemed claustrophobic, much too boxy for the amount of people occupying it. a mirror, a clothing rack and a couch, not much for a band to prepare for a show. he was impressed to say the least that a band of your aptitude had put on such a good performance in these conditions. 

his friends went around the room in commendation, giving each member their own praise, complimenting the band as a whole. hongjoong was excited to do the same when he was in the crowd, but being back here with the adrenaline from the show being thick in the room, a voice told him to stay quiet, something that was close to impossible for him. 

“you,” you began, and hongjoong’s neck snapped to you, greeted with a finger pointed directly at himself, “where did you get your jeans?” 

“diesel,” he looked down to the ripped denim hugging his skinny legs, “vintage, i thrifted them from the shop on sackett.” 

he watched as the eyes he couldn’t see the color of glanced up and down his figure, taking in every detail of his outfit, his body. you glanced back down to the mirror in your palm then back up to him, “you want a line?” 

hongjoong’s feet were moving before he nodded yes. he sat down next to you on the decrepit couch, seated on the cushion in the middle. your hand moved under his chin and he could see his reflection in the glass below the lines, rich chocolate blending in with pupils, too wide to be able to tell where they started or ended. 

he took the dollar from your raw, discolored fingers and sniffed, taking the line closest to you on the end. he was wide awake then, energy flooding his veins like he’d just slept for fourteen hours and drank three cups of coffee. his smile returned as he glanced at you, watched you do the same, took in every detail.

your hair, tucked behind your ears, laid in front of your shoulders far past the string of your bikini top. your lips were in a tight line, a streak of blood red below your nose, which had the rolled up bill just beneath the surface of your right nostril. he watched you sniff once, twice, both lines disappearing from the glass in your palm, your head tilting back with an additional sniff and a knuckle to your cupid's bow. 

he watched in awe, a sparkle in his empty pupils, a flare in the sea of vast darkness. his dick twitched in his pants as he lost himself in the moment, his fogged up yet crystal clear head morphed you into some kind of seductress, a succubus, he had no chance of getting out of whatever spell you put him under, not that he needed one. all he could do, all he wanted to do is succumb. 

succumb he did when you pressed him against the front door of your apartment, grabbed him by the throat and took him for everything he was worth. you were nonstop from that moment on the couch all the way to your apartment in queens, hands exploring and lips touching, tasting, giving, taking, there was no moment of question. no time to waste, not a fact to be shared, just a carnal desire that poured out of himself and into you, into your veins, into the blood that shared a color with your lipstick smeared onto hongjoong’s jaw. 

he smirked knowing he got what he wanted, knowing he always gets what he wants, he was just that kind of person. shrouded in luck, like he had a guardian angel who refused to leave his side. from where he’s been to what he’s done, there was no way he should be alive, the chances of survival for a guy like him are slim to none. 

the first time was in the bathroom of that club, where he pushed you into a stall and bent you over the toilet, your hands gripping onto a wall that you were sure had never been cleaned. markings of sharpie covered every inch, lewd and crude sayings, initials in hearts, phone numbers of random people who wronged the person that wrote it. you took every inch of him proudly, lifted your leg onto the toilet seat, ushering him to hit deeper, to empty himself inside you. 

you left that bathroom in heavy breaths and lust darkened eyes, only for the two of you to last one more drink and another key bump before you were below the ground, on the subway to your apartment.

you didn’t get any farther than the entryway where you grabbed him by the throat, ushering for him to give into you, a power he didn’t just give away to anyone. he chuckled darkly and switched your bodies quickly, pressing your face against the art covered wall instead of the front door, smacking your ass with a force that made you cry out. he knew what you were, he could see it when you were onstage, nothing but a pain slut that let him fuck you in one of the dirtiest bathrooms he’s ever seen. 

a low laugh left his lungs when he felt your core, fingers slipping through your release and his own cum that you’d been saving for later. he was immediately on his knees, eating it out of you, tasting the two of you mixed into one. the second time was in that very entryway, where he took you against the wall once more, this time with a low dim light peeking through the windows and a clear scent of fresh laundry and vanilla floating through the space. much cleaner, much sweeter, the opposite of what the two of you had endured just an hour earlier.

he ended the night in your bed, where he took you for a third, fourth and fifth, neither of you sleeping a wink. with the sunrise coming in through your half open window, sounds of sirens and cars passed by, drifting through the translucent rose colored curtains making them ruffle and bend to the noise. you had a cigarette between your lips, a tray with four more parallel lines sitting at the foot of the bed. you were naked, your tattoos your only blanket, hongjoong the same beside you. 

“can’t believe you’re a fucking freshman in college,” you laughed through the smoke leaving your lips, a saccharine sound mixed with the smell of tobacco and menthol, “please tell me you’ve at least turned nineteen.”

hongjoong nodded, letting his fingers continue to trail your thigh, tracing the outline of the dragon that was soaring through the skin of your hip, “i’ll be twenty in november.” 

a lie, one he knew would be believed, one that allowed you to sigh out in relief. he’d slept with much older, your measly twenty two was nothing to him, just another thursday night after a show, another experience to add to his arsenal. 

“you said you go to NYU right? what’s an NYU student doing in brooklyn?” hongjoong smiled at that, he loved when people knew absolutely nothing about it him, made assumptions based on one thing they’d heard. he could make up anything he wanted, he could be whoever he wanted to be, not that you’d ever find out the truth. you’d never hear from him again after he stepped foot onto the sidewalk outside, back to his dorm, back to his roommate who would be waiting to ask him a million questions about his excursion. 

tonight he was hongjoong, the nineteen year old that’d fucked you five different times in nine different ways, snorted countless lines of blow and hungout with a band he knew would make it. he wasn’t eighteen year old student hongjoong who was going to NYU because his parents were pushing him into accomplishing something, anything, trying relentlessly to get him out of the city’s gutter. 

“to be fair, we’re in queens,” he cracked a smile, the corner of his lips lifting, “i grew up in bushwick, i come whenever i can. got lots of friends that still live around here.”

he didn’t know why he was being honest, this was his favorite part. maybe a small part of him was tired of lying, even if he’d done it already, he was ready for truth, ready for it to be laid bare for him, ready for it to point him in yet another direction. he didn’t care which direction it would send him in from your dingy apartment in queens, he just hoped it was upward, to something better than what he came from. 

“why aren’t you guys signed yet?” there it was, the question that’s been clawing at him all night, sat fresh on his mind even when he was buried inside of you. the one truth he wanted to know, not your name that he already couldn’t remember, your age that’d already become irrelevant, or your address that he’d never even learned.

you sighed again, running a hand through your hair, collapsing into the plush pillows beneath you, “a few agencies have tried, none have been worth it. contracts are too strict, we won’t get paid enough, the companies aren’t popular enough. yasu handles all of that, i’m just told what we do or what we don’t do.”

“so if the right label approached you, one with money and connections and a contract that was perfect, you’d sign with them?” hongjoong asked, letting his eyes flutter shut, not that he felt tired. he’d need at least twenty milligrams of valium for that and even then it probably wouldn’t lure him to sleep, just enough to take the edge off, to let his head lie still.

you laughed, a bitter chuckle, “like who? republic fucking records? we’re performing in run down clubs across the city, we have miles to go before an agency worth anything takes an interest in us.”

hongjoong smiled through his eyes that stayed closed, that same smile he wore last night, the one that was both wicked and knowing. he could see it in front of him, an idea, a dream, a career. if he didn’t feel like shit he’d call up his parents and thank them for sending him to NYU, thank them for the opportunity to do something right with his life. his roommate would get a kick out of this. 

he sat up on the bed and leaned forward, pulling the silver platter on his lap. he picked up the dollar bill that was slowly losing its shape with every sniff and lifted it to his nose, railing two lines from the tray. he tilted his head back and shook it, giving one last sniff before he was off. 

“i have class,” he said as he searched for his pants around your cluttered bedroom before remembering he’d undressed in the entryway. you sat up with wide eyes, blinking at his sudden departure after a night of wild sex and snorting all of your coke. 

“wait,” you called after him as he nearly ran through the bedroom door, “i want to give you my number, call me if you ever want to come see our show again, or if you want to do this again.”

he smiled from the open door in which the frame towered over him, shooting you a finger that said wait before he went in search of his clothes, phone, and wallet. he returned and saved your number in his phone, leaving the contact name as tattoo girl. in the moment it’d seemed easiest to remember you by. 

he never ended up calling you, never ended up seeing another show that you mentioned. he went back to his dorm, to his life, and changed his major with a speed he hadn’t experienced before, despite his whole life being quick. he ate quick, he thought quick, he grew up quick, he learned quick, he did everything at such a rate he’d never experienced whiplash. this was normal.�� 

music technology classes were not easy, but he thought himself lucky for the brain he was born with, his ability to adapt. for once in his life hongjoong wasn’t just good at school, he was excelling. 

the connections he formed, his ever growing ability to network himself, show off his extensive knowledge of music itself, its history, the music scene in the city. never in his life had he thought he was born for something, never thought he had a purpose, just thought of himself as an open minded creative person who loved a good time. as he got deeper into his major which he thankfully didn’t change again, he realized there was one thing that remained constant all throughout his life, one thing that stayed with him through every phase, got him through every hump in the road. 

when he came home that morning with pupils swallowing his eye color whole and lungs that had no breath left in them, he told his roommate he was changing his major and mingi was relieved. he was relieved and grateful, smiling because the first friend he made at NYU was going to be beside him for more than just sleepless nights across the dorm, letting out a sigh he kept trapped in his lungs because now could keep a better eye on hongjoong. the night before he was worried out of his mind, even if he knew hongjoong was born and raised in the city, mingi was raised in south korea. 

mingi was told since he first started mentioning new york city to his friends and family to be careful, he had all of the horror stories told to him in depth, used as a weapon to scare him out of coming to the states. he never thought twice about it until he got here, stood face to face with hongjoong, and learned every dirty secret he had to offer. then he believed the horror stories, he believed that the city’s wretched dark side could really kill someone dead, even hongjoong who had become a good friend to him. 

that fear was short lived, it was cut short the moment hongjoong took him to his first show in brooklyn. hongjoong could see the excitement in his eyes, that same adrenaline rush hongjoong considered himself addicted to as he watched mingi snort his first line of blow. he felt prideful, like he’d taken mingi under his wing and rebirthed him into a weapon the city couldn’t touch, couldn’t harm. he offered mingi the city’s beauty, the bright lights of the buildings at night, the pleasure of a woman he’d just met mere minutes ago. 

the two of them became a pair, and hongjoong had grown to love the friendship, love the closeness that came with it. he wasn’t used to sharing so much time with one other person, he kept to himself if he wasn’t with his group of friends, even when he still lived at home he didn’t see the need for having one person to put all of his trust into. 

mingi taught him a lot of things, the first being how to keep his head on straight and screw it tight. he kept hongjoong grounded, kept him centered around his music, kept him looking forward and never backward. he kept hongjoong flowing, retelling stories of nights they’d gone out together when hongjoong was feeling himself hit a creative block. mingi pulled hongjoong out of his hole when he’d snorted one too many lines, he’d put him in the shower, force feed him valium like it was candy. 

it wasn’t until hongjoong was sat on a wooden stool in the soundproof booth of his school’s recording studio two years later that he’d be reminded of you again. strumming along to into the void by black sabbath, a song he loved since he was young, getting frustrated when his fingers slipped up around the bridge, they always slipped up at the bridge — the chords were so close together, it was ironic that something which took speed would trip him up. 

“joong!” mingi called from outside of the booth, turning the microphone on, ripping hongjoong from his frustrations. “i got accepted! you need to check your email now.”

hongjoong left the booth in a rush, swinging his guitar back into its stand haphazardly, pushing the microphone he was keeping close to his lap back into the open space of the recording booth. he grabbed his phone and opened the email, relief washing over him like the stream from his apartment’s moldy shower head when he read we have selected you to join republic records as a production intern for the spring term.

hongjoong looked to mingi with wide, disbelieving eyes, unable to form a single reason why one of the biggest record labels in the city would accept him, choose him. hongjoong had been more than proficient in his work, with his grades, with forming relationships with big names in the industry — but at the end of the day, when he looked at himself in the mirror, all he saw was the same sixteen year old boy from brooklyn who’s only future was spent on the sidewalks of manhattan, maybe a shelter if he was fortunate enough. not a cent to his name, barely any clothes on his back, spending his adult years asking faceless people for a couple dollars just to buy himself a burger. 

it was his parents’ biggest fear, it kept his mother up all night in her queen sized bed, his father no doubt already passed out drunk beside her. she laid there with wide eyes listening to his snores, staring at her cracked ceiling praying for the day she gets to watch her son walk across that big stage, graduation cap flattening his shaggy haircut. she smiled at the thought, but the severity of the situation hit her much deeper, it wiped the smile right off her face. hongjoong was a wild card, she never knew what to do with him, how to keep him walking in a straight line, her last attempt was sending him to such a prestigious college. she begged him to see the value, see what she was sacrificing to send him there, see the desperation she slipped over her head like a uniform when hongjoong was at the ripe age of twelve. 

“you’re in production?” mingi twisted his neck to look over hongjoong’s shoulder, the height difference making it easy for him, “i’m in artist relations.” 

“what’s artist relations?” hongjoong asked while lifting a brow, looking up to the phone his lanky best friend held tight in his hand. 

mingi moved the phone lower, closer to him, sharing the screen to read the email word for word, “interns work closely with signed artists to assist in their day-to-day needs, organizing promotional activities, tours, and managing communications between the artist and the label.”

hongjoong laughed at that, his head tipping back, his eyes fluttering shut in hysterics. mingi’s cheeks flushed, his mouth shut tight and lips lifting at the edges ever so slightly, a mixture of embarrassment and amusement. it took hongjoong a moment to get it together before he said, “so you’re someone’s personal assistant?” 

“no!” mingi’s voice was raised, he took a breath, “yes, maybe, i guess so, whatever! i’m still interning at republic and a hierarchy is something to climb no matter where you start.” 

hongjoong laughed again, clutching his stomach that had a slight ache in the pit then looked down to his lit up screen, “i’m assisting with music recording, mixing, and mastering. may help in studios, learning about the technical side of producing records, blah blah blah. i got the good one.” 

“shut up,” mingi grumbled, locking his phone and shoving it in his pocket, “asshole, they're both good, i was excited. don’t ruin it.” 

“i’m just fucking with you, ming, you should be excited. being a personal assistant means you get the inside scoop,” hongjoong smirks, “plus we can tell each other about our jobs.” he lifts his index finger, already thinking of what comes next, “we’re gonna learn every inch of that place and every job before we even get hired, we’ll be behind the big desk in no time.”

mingi nods as if hongjoong’s strategy had planted itself directly into his head through shared brain waves, “you’re right, you’re so right, holy shit you’re so right.” 

hongjoong’s eyes go wide again, the realization settling in, “we’re interns at republic records.” 

it brought him back to that night, you with your husky voice and tattooed legs and piercings that shone in the path of moonlight through your bedroom window, the cigarette you held between two dainty fingers … you that brought him here, you that handed him this idea along with four white lines on a silver platter. 

pieces started falling into place, everything started to click, he remembered just a month ago he saw an advertisement for your band, a black piece of paper stuck to a light pole, performing at the red lion in greenwich village. he didn’t spare it a second thought, didn’t even process that he knew you when he saw it, too engrossed in how he was rushing to a class he was late for and the music in his headphones and the redbull he was juggling between his phone and laptop and keys. 

he didn’t think much of it again until he was two months deep in his internship, walking through the dim hallways of republic records with two cups of coffee in his hands, one for himself and one for the producer he was working next to that day. he walked by one of the practice rooms, door shut with a square window in the center, he caught nothing but a glimpse of your hair but it was enough to make him stop in his tracks, to feel the coffee in the confines of their cups threaten to overflow their lids.

he stopped there for a moment, peered through the glass box, let his brain backtrack to that fall of two years ago. god, what the hell was your name again?

he couldn’t hear a note yet he longed for the main singer’s mellifluous voice to kiss his pierced ears, he could see you working the crowd in his memories when you were performing for nothing but a blank brown wall, he let his eyes drift to the green haired drummer. what could have been. 

he pulled himself from the trance you had pulled him under again, much similar to when he first met you. hair cut shorter, edgier, more ink filling spaces in your soft skin that were empty the last time he saw you, much more clothing on your body this time around. at this point you must be twenty four, hongjoong himself just twenty one, just legal to drink in public, not that his age had ever stopped him before. it didn’t stop him from doing anything he wanted. 

he kept walking, beckoning his legs to push one foot in front of the other before he arrived back at the studio he was in for the day. he felt cloudy, like he needed a line, something to pull him out of his head, but he needed to reminisce. he remembered your conversation even in his coked out state, the way you laughed at him for suggesting such a perfect label to exist, the way republic records slipped off your tongue like it was nothing but a pipe dream you stored in the darkest corners of your head.

hongjoong believed in fate, he always told himself there was no other reason for his life to be the way it is. hongjoong had experienced plenty, he’d woken up on too many stoops in neighborhoods he started the night across from, had one too many syringes full of narcan shot in his arm when his cocaine was cut with fentanyl. he’d survived to tell the tale, not just survived but he kept living, what else did he have to thank? 

sheer luck, a guardian angel, fate, whatever it was he was thankful it stayed with him for so long, perched on his shoulder when he’d do the same things that made the front page of the new york times. there were too many lines in his life that crossed, too many threads that webbed for there not to be some external force, something he didn’t have a hand in. when yours and his threads crossed, got tangled that one night in the pits of brooklyn, he couldn’t help but think that the two years he’d spent his life up to this moment was the untangling. 

as mingi stood in their shared apartment later that night, telling him about his day, talking about the band he was assigned to, hongjoong couldn’t believe his ears when the word clotho left mingi’s lips. out of all the interns, all the employees in that massive building, all of the record labels in the city, you signed to the agency he worked for and mingi was assigned to assist you. 

he let him speak, let him complain about listening to your harsh demands, your continual need to practice the same song until they got it right, the way you flirted with mingi and how mingi ate it up. he let mingi speak with open ears, normal sized pupils and a nasty drip sliding down the back of his throat before he had enough. pulling the bag of his coke from his pocket he grabbed his favorite tray he kept right on the coffee table, spread the snow and cut it with a card from his wallet and sniffed. no dollar bill, no straw he sliced in half, just a finger pressed to his pierced nostril leaving the other one raw and full of blow. 

“christ, joong, it’s eight at night on a monday,” mingi shook his head at his friend, “do you really need to be railing lines right now?”

“i fucked her,” hongjoong admitted plainly, crossing his right leg back over his left knee.

“what? who?” mingi asked, his eyebrows reaching his hairline, leaning over in the recliner in their shared living room. 

“the guitarist from clotho, the one who’s name apparently neither of us know,” hongjoong chuckled before shaking out his arms, shaking off the discomfort of a possession he had no right feeling, “i fucked her.”

mingi sat there, blinking, not a word leaving his lips for moments before his brain turned back on, “i won’t- i didn’t know- when did you even?”

hongjoong waved him off with ring clad fingers before standing, walking towards his bedroom, “do what you want with her, just figured i’d let you know.”

hongjoong never had a girlfriend, a boyfriend, a relationship that lasted longer than one drunken night. even when he was younger he’d never experienced the puppy love all of his peers got themselves into, the only desire he felt was the rush of getting away with something, he’s craved that since before he can remember. possession wasn’t an emotion he was used to, one he rarely experienced at all, he couldn’t pinpoint why that spark of control showed itself when talking to mingi of all people. 

he left your apartment in a race that night, he couldn’t of cared less about you in the moment, he never thought about you again until two months ago, over two years after he slept with you in the first place. he thought you special maybe, a fucked up train of thought when he couldn’t even remember your name, special despite how utterly ordinary that night was. special because he had you to thank for the path he was on now, what he's accomplished since that night with you. maybe it was gratitude, adoration, maybe just someone to look up to if he considered your success comparable to his own, he didn’t know and it was driving him insane. 

his night with you was nothing out of the ordinary, he did nothing with you that he hadn’t done with tens of other people, yet the pedestal still remains tall. he tried to think about it in his sleepless night yet he got absolutely nowhere, no resolution, no explanation for the whirlwind he’d put himself through over hours. he sat up in his bed and sighed, a cold sweat lingering on his tanned skin, then he grabbed the guitar from beside his bed. 

he let the feeling consume him that night, let it pour out into every note his painted fingers strummed along the guitar. as the sun peeked through his bedroom window the next morning he decided that one night of thinking was all he could handle, he chose to let the feelings be what they are and put them on the old metal rack along with his guitar. 

he didn’t see you through that window to the practice room again, and he’d purposely walked by plenty of times in the weeks to follow. coming into mid march, for some reason the company was busy. hongjoong was keeping up, of course he was, juggling the workload from the producer he worked with and then everything else that was added to his plate by numerous other producers of the company. hongjoong was famous in that building, he was a dream intern, every person of a higher rank in that building wanted him for something. 

hongjoong loved it, he loved the attention, he loved being depended on, he loved being busy most of all. reaching deadlines, bouncing back and forth between different artists and their own genre of music, hongjoong was nothing but a sponge in the ocean that was republic records. he soaked everything in, he learned everything, he remembered everything, he loved that his extensive knowledge was only ranging farther. 

when he woke up that morning to the sunrise and a clear head after playing acoustic versions of rock songs all fucking night, he did exactly what he told himself he was going to. even if he wanted to think about you again he didn’t have a moment to himself to be able to, his internship was taking up so much of his personal time most days his homework wasn’t even a priority. the internship told him when he started to let them know if the workload was too much, if it was affecting his studies, but in what world would he do that? after leaving his bubble of adolescence of being a regular college student and entering the adult world, his career, why would school come first? he was already doing it, already loved by so many people, it was only right that hongjoong would fixate on what was working. 

“we’re recording today,” jag, the producer he worked with, didn’t even have the decency to greet hongjoong with a hello. so backed up, so overworked, jag looked like he hadn’t slept in three days.

“with who?” hongjoong paid no mind to his unpleasant greeting, setting a coffee down right in front of him. jag’s eyes widened, a sparkle shining through the deepest of browns, he immediately brought the cup up to his chapped lips. jag’s favorite, this hongjoong knew by now, he also knew how jag worked, how to put him in a better mood even on his worst days. 

“clotho,” jag said after a refreshing sigh, pleased with the hot drink he was gifted, “they’re finishing up their album, they’ve been working with max for majority of the recording. max called out sick, so they’re with us.”

hongjoong’s eyebrows raised, his mouth opening ever so slightly. jag caught on to the surprise, much like how observant hongjoong was, jag also paid a lot of attention to the boy with the sand colored mullet. jag snickered, “you have the same look on your face as when you slept with anitta and we had her in the booth the next day.”

“you know me too well,” hongjoong sat down in the chair beside him and let out a noise of relief as he got comfortable, cracking his knuckles as he spoke, “i fucked the guitarist.”

jag laughed, a belly laugh from the pit of his stomach, “which one?”

“the lead guitarist, the one covered neck to toe in tattoos,” hongjoong brings his attention to the monitor, an entirely different project jag was working on spread across the screen.

jag rubbed his face with his hands, “do we need to get every artist an STD test? i’m starting to get scared you’ll cause an outbreak.”

hongjoong rolled his eyes before responding with a playful smile, “you know i’m clean.”

their small talk didn’t get much further before your band was barreling through the studio, yawns and huffs of air being thrown about the space. hongjoong kept it professional, he kept his focus on the mixing board, the monitor, pulling up the file to the tracks that they were working on that day. 

you looked… tired. no makeup, guitar case strapped to your back, tattoos hiding under the cotton of your sweats. it was early, the company had them working not just at dawn but also on the weekend, two things that weren’t normal for scheduling or recording. you didn’t notice him yet, or you were ignoring him, hongjoong wasn’t sure but he also didn’t care. he needed to get you in that booth, get the recording done as fast as possible so he could meet his friends at baby’s all right later. 

at the start of the first track on the album they’d record that day, hongjoong knew the moment you saw him, the second you recognized his pierced nose and shaggy hair that was much longer now than the last time you’d seen him. he could see it in the way your eyes widened and the pause you took before you took your pick from your lips, he watched the gears turn in your head, he watched every memory play out in your eyes from that night two years ago. jag seemed to notice too by the way his palm slapped hongjoong’s knee under the desk, a breath of amusement leaving his lips. 

your movements were slowed, it took you entirely too long to shift the microphone so it stood correctly in front of you, but you shook yourself out of your thoughts as the rhythm guitarist played the first few clean, arpeggiated chords. this song… hongjoong recognized it immediately, the memories once again flooding back to him.

once you got through the haunting intro, through the slow burn build into heavier, distorted riffs, hongjoong thought that you might be a siren, too. instead of a melodic voice, it was the resonance you played through the strings under your calloused fingertips hooking him, once again pulling him into a trance, a spell you weren’t even conscious of casting. when it got to your solo in the middle of the song, backed up with an underlying chord progression from the rhythm guitarist and a deep bass line, he could feel it from head to toe. the entrapment, the sight in front of him that he couldn’t bear to look away from. the back up instruments set a platform, a center for you to take the stage in the small recording booth, for the focus of the listener to hear you, focus on you. 

he had a job. he had buttons to press, things to adjust, he had to listen with an assessing ear, he had to snap out of it. he watched as your chipped nail polish slipped from string to string, the other hand clenched tightly around your guitar pick. he watched as you nodded along to the drums, eyebrows furrowed in focus of following the mid tempo groove, listening to the song as much as you were playing it. he knew that feeling, that multitasking, listening and doing and following and evaluating all at once. 

he blinked a few times before directing his focus to the monitor instead of watching you shred in the booth, he fell in and out of focus for the entire session between his eyes being locked on you and making sure your song was being recorded properly. he thought he’d let go of what he felt, laid his feelings to rest in his favorite instrument beside his bed, but as he watched you strum along to the fourth track they’d record that day he decided maybe there was a reason your paths crossed once again. 

just like that one night spent with him and his music, the feelings he didn’t want to address, he spiraled into yet another torment of not being able to process anything. all he had was this unidentifiable emotion, a pang in his chest, he didn’t know what to do with it or how to address it properly. he looked at from all sides, contradicted himself, tried to unpack it for exactly what it was, but he still felt himself unable to move from square one. 

by the end of the session hongjoong’s brain was on backwards, he was barely of help to jag the entire time you were in the booth. jag gave him a pass even if he was entirely confused as to why hongjoong was acting so fucking weird, he’d never acted so out of it, even during the session with anitta. jag chopped it up to the fact that hongjoong was probably overworked much like himself, even if something tugged at him, telling him there was more going on in hongjoong’s head than just exhaustion. 

the rest of the session went a lot easier than hongjoong thought it would based off of the insight he’d gotten from mingi, but he guessed he shouldn’t have assumed how you’d act from just one conversation that was ages ago. mingi hadn’t mentioned you or the band again since that night, deeming it a sensitive topic, one he’d like to avoid since him and hongjoong kept the people they fucked very separate, except for those they shared. you were rather quiet towards hongjoong, only what was necessary for getting the recording done, he couldn’t pull anything from you except for eyes boring into the back of his head from across the room and a short snap of a complaint when he noticed a bleed from the microphone. 

hongjoong was exhausted beyond belief by eight o’clock yet he still had an entire night ahead of him. he packed up his bag and slung it over his shoulder, relieved he was about to go drink away the new emotions he’d encountered.

“you alright?” jag asked, a weird question coming from jag who usually kept their conversations light hearted, he rarely picked hongjoong apart.

“‘m fine, just tired,” hongjoong waved him off with a smile, one that didn’t quite reach his eyes. jag lifted an eyebrow, too curious but too scared to ask. him and hongjoong’s relationship was specific, a teacher and his student, despite the not always innocent conversation that sometimes felt like it was between two friends. he didn’t find it his place to intervene on the conversation that’s been going on for hours in hongjoong’s head, better to let hongjoong come to him if need be.

“see you monday,” was all jag called after hongjoong who had already left the studio’s door, an echo through the heavy wood. 

hongjoong didn’t expect to turn and see you pressed up against the wall, guitar encased at your side, the sleeves of your sweatshirt rolled up to your elbows. you smiled, an eerie smile, one that told hongjoong everything he was feeling earlier was about to be intensified, amplified, much like the sound of your instrument. 

“you didn’t think to tell me you worked here?” you tilted your head, the smile of a cheshire cat sitting wide on your cheekbones. 

“and how would i do that?” hongjoong grabbed your guitar case from beside the wall and began walking, ushering you to follow along. if you were going to talk, it should be away from jag’s curious ears. 

“maybe make use of the phone number you’ve had in your phone for two years?” it sounded like a question but hongjoong assumed it was more of an instruction, a curious sentence that left much to be dissected. 

hongjoong laughed a soft chuckle, “i didn’t think it was necessary.”

“well that’s rude,” you scoffed, grabbing your guitar case from his hand and swinging it over your own shoulder, “this is the last place i would’ve expected to see you.”

“and i feel the opposite,” he turned to look at you, almost his height in your platform sneakers, “you laughed at me when i knew exactly where you’d end up.” 

“ah, buttering me up now, are we?” you smirked, “didn’t know you thought so highly of clotho.” 

“why else would i sleep with the lead guitarist?” hongjoong joked, his own smile growing wide, the fog he felt in the studio was long gone by the time you reached the end of the hallway. entering the space just before the elevator to take them down to the lobby, hongjoong pressed the button and faced you. 

“that’s fucked up,” you said between your giggles, “you wanna be my groupie now?” you shifted your weight to one foot, making yourself just smaller than the man before you. “i’ll allow it, i guess.” 

“who said i wanted to do it again?” hongjoong’s mischievous smile was permanent across his cheeks now and you gasped, slapping his bicep. the elevator dinged and opened quickly, an empty dimly lit space demanding you to continue the conversation.

“what are you doing later?” you asked as you stepped inside, leaning against the bar that was fused against the wall opposite of hongjoong. 

“going to baby’s all right with a couple friends,” hongjoong answered plainly, ignoring the voice tugging at him to ask you to come with.

“got room for one more?” you beat him to it, you’ve been bold since the day he met you, he didn’t know why it took him by surprise. 

he stuttered a bit in his agreement and you told him to meet you at your apartment, a new one in brooklyn, not the one you used to occupy in queens. he didn’t have the strength to tell you he grew up in the same neighborhood, he knew your address like the back of his hand, that this is yet another thread sewn into the web. hongjoong believed in fate and he believed in signs, it seemed that every one was pointing in your direction. he trusted the signs, trusted in luck, trusted in fate, trusted in whatever kept itself on his shoulder that this path he was taking was the right one. 

he never cared much for right and wrong when it came to anything, especially entertaining the idea that his own actions would change how his life would turn out. hongjoong never had any goals or expectations for his life, he assumed how he’d turn out before the age of fifteen, he was careless unless it benefited him to put in an effort for anything yet he never considered that might put him on the wrong path, it just was what it was. from stealing a twenty dollar bill from his mother’s second hand coach bag to working alongside one of the most famous music producers in the city, before two years ago when hongjoong actually felt that he was moving upward, he never took into consideration that maybe his actions did have consequences, maybe he chose what path his life went in by the smallest of decisions. 

he showed up to your apartment late, much to your dismay, even if you were also late yourself. you took about ten more minutes after he’d buzzed up to your apartment to let you know he’d arrived, leaving him to his own devices on your stoop. when you’d finally walked out of your front door hongjoong’s right nostril twitched, he was used to only one thing giving him this kind of rush, this sensation he felt at every nerve ending. you were fucking breathtaking with your microscopic skirt and shirt so small he didn’t know if you could consider it anything other than a bra. makeup dark and sultry, lips so red he had flashbacks to when he scrubbed smudges of it off of the base of his neck. your hair was down and straightened, framing your cheekbones so beautifully, the shadows it created made you look like a creature of the night in the most dangerous way. 

he felt like he was looking at you for the first time all over again, the last two years had done you well, all of the coke and drinking and partying hadn’t aged you in the slightest. it was rare that excessive consumption didn’t affect one's appearance, most of his hometown friends had begun to resemble zombies years ago, you seemed to be immortal. the walk to the bar was short, less than ten blocks away, and hongjoong was grateful. he was using tonight for release, he needed to let go of everything he’s been responsible for, take a night to forget everything and just be. of course, out of all nights, someone who he worked with just a few hours ago would be accompany him, but at least it’s you.

“have you been to this place?” you asked, the innocence in your voice contradicting the heaviness of your boots hitting the concrete. 

hongjoong nodded, his hands shoved in his pockets, “many times.”

“we performed here a couple months ago i think, i don’t really remember it much, i got hammered as soon as we got off the stage,” you were talking mindlessly, just sparking up a conversation so you weren’t walking silently beside each other. 

“it’s cute, less grungy and dirty and more..” he racked his brain for a way to describe it, falling into a momentary silence, “picturesque for the instagram models of the city, i guess?”

you laughed at that, “then i’ll put your hands to good use and you can be my personal photographer for the night, my followers will be grateful.”

hongjoong’s lips grew into a smirk, “there are better ways to put my hands to use.”

“we still have a whole night to get through before i can attest to that,” you raised a finger towards him in protest, your own smile growing, the two of you falling into easier conversation once the flirting started up again. 

“we’ve only walked a block, we can easily turn around,” hongjoong came to a stop, looking back to the stretch of ground they had just hiked, eyes full of amusement yet he was also dead serious. there are plenty ways to let off steam.

you rolled your eyes, “normally i’d agree, but i’m in the mood to party and if you’re anything like you were two years ago i don’t think you’re capable of a quickie.”

the two of you fell into stride again, “i can say with confidence that i am not fond of quickies.”

you brought up work after that, talked about the album, compared recording with hongjoong and jag to max. hongjoong half tuned out at that, he answered where he needed to but he was over the work talk, he needed to get to that bar now. 

you met up with his hometown friends once you got there, people you slightly recognized from backstage two years ago, but there were a few hongjoong had to introduce you to. once you mentioned clotho you had more to talk about with the group of people, being the lead guitarist of a band signed by republic records was always a great conversation starter. 

hongjoong kept his tab open, let you order whatever you wanted on it for the night, to you that was an invitation to get fucked up as much as it was payback for snorting all of your coke two years ago. you were intrigued at this point, not just by hongjoong himself but about what was going on in his head. you’d assessed the situation while you were getting ready as much as you wanted to leave it at a free night of partying, but you couldn’t shake the curiosity that came along with the presence of kim hongjoong. 

after he had left your apartment two years ago in such a rush, you’d hoped he’d call you for at least two weeks after. even a text, whatever you could get from him was enough, because you’d never had a night like that with anyone, the sex being something that no other person you’d invited to your bed could compare to. everything about him physically, the shared interests, the banter, the easy conversation. you were coked out of your mind yet you still remember every detail of that night, even almost a thousand days later hongjoong had left his mark on you without it being intentional. 

then you saw him again, and he was working for you. he was sitting behind the mixing board with headphones on, looking unbothered as ever, you wondered if he even remembered you, if that night stayed with him the way it stayed with you. once your eyes met and you could feel the knowing shared from a single, too long stare through the glass, you had to talk to him, had to pick his brain, had to insert yourself into his life like what you shared wasn’t just one night so you could do it again.

you took his invitation and drank to your heart’s content, and he did, too. both of you ended up in the cramped crowd of the DJ, so unlike hongjoong, very much like you, drowning in a swamp of sweaty bodies. everyone was jumping, arms swinging to the beat, phones with flashes on all pointed towards the stage. hongjoong was gone as he planned, his mind forgetting everything except for the beautiful woman beside him, he couldn’t take his eyes off of you. watching you as you jumped in the air, swaying to the music, everything bouncing to the bass, he was getting impatient and his dick could feel it. 

he needed a bump to take the edge off, reset him so he didn’t rush you out of your fun, he enjoyed seeing you so carefree. in your monologue about your album you’d seem stressed, hongjoong assumed you needed to get away for a night just as much as he did. 

“i need a bump,” he yelled over the music, grabbing your forearm that you kept at your side to get your attention, the other one hung above your head. 

“me too!” you yelled back, looking up to him with those big doe eyes, there goes his reset. he didn’t think you’d come with, too wrapped up in the set the DJ was playing, but he stupidly thought wrong – you were just like him, after all. your hand latched onto his and he lead you out of the crowd, through the crowded bar, and then outside to the sidewalk of broadway. he nodded his head to the bouncer and wrapped around the building that still had a line outside the door to somewhere quieter, where people would be less likely to interrupt you.

“joong, i think we could’ve stayed in front, it’s not like he cares,” you pointed out, referring to the bouncer as you finally turned the corner, pulling your box of cigarettes from your purse.

he pulled the baggie from his pocket along with his keys, splitting them until he found his apartment key that had old coke lodged into the rivets of the metal, “excuse me for not wanting to share.”

you giggled, stumbling a little bit over your feet when you tried to light the cigarette, “wanna go soon?”

he looked up to you with eyebrows raised as he brought the key up to his nose, “yeah? you ready?”

“want you already, tired of waiting,” your legs instinctively crossed, thighs pressing together as you pulled from the cigarette, the tip burning a bright orange. 

his smile returned, the devilish one that he seemed to only wear around you, “what? you don’t wanna party anymore? that’s the only reason we’re here, baby.”

your thighs flexed below your skirt at his words as he brought the key up to your nose after your exhale of smoke, smirking as you sniffed, “don’t call me baby unless you’re fucking me against the wall.”

he laughed at your body reacting to his words, something that came so naturally to him throwing you for a loop, the thought crossing his mind just for a moment that maybe he should’ve done this a lot sooner. he let you burn down half the cigarette before he was feeling the same level of impatience and you were starting to look even sexier, the rush of the bump coursing through his blood and sending all of it straight to his dick.

“let’s go say bye and then i’ll fuck you stupid at home, no bathroom this time,” he grabbed your hand again instinctively, leading you back inside the club, letting you throw the still lit cigarette to the busy street.

he found his friends quick and said bye even quicker, his pants started tightening the moment you crossed your legs and they weren’t getting any baggier as time went on. the walk back to your apartment reminded him of the subway ride from the last time, each block you walked had you pressed up on a random stoop, hongjoong’s tongue in your mouth and hand sliding farther and farther up your skirt with each stop. you couldn’t keep your hands off of each other, too needy, too impatient, a feeling you kept passing back and forth through spit and moans on brooklyn doorsteps.

you didn’t let lust take over in the entryway this time, hongjoong quickly learned this apartment wasn’t just your own but instead shared. a man’s jacket sat hung on the coat rack on the foyer, three pairs of men’s shoes shuffled about the floor. that possessiveness returned, coating a thick layer over him before he looked up. your apartment was massive, no way you were affording this on your own even in brooklyn, maybe you had two roommates. the apartment was decorated less cozy than the last time he was here, more like your band’s style, rough and dirty and dim. it didn’t smell of vanilla but instead mahogany, a hint of bourbon, so much more masculine than he’d expected. 

hongjoong’s gut twisted with the information and he pushed it down, ignored it, pretended you shared the space with a ghost instead as you lead him through the apartment and to your room quickly, pushing him against the door the second you heard the latch enter the door frame. you were on your knees in seconds, not wasting any time, only enhancing hongjoong’s need to have control as you unbuckled his belt and pulled his jeans down. 

“been dreaming of having this dick again for years,” you mumbled absent mindedly as you finally got him bare, naked and leaking, eyes wide and blown not just from the coke. 

“should’ve came and got it then,” your revelation didn’t sink in, didn’t seem to click in hongjoong’s brain, too fucked up to think of anything other than fucking your throat as he finally got the wet heat of your mouth around him.

your nails clawed at the skin of his thighs as you bobbed your head, taking him deeper with each stroke, gagging yourself but pushing through nonetheless. hongjoong had his fingers tied in your hair, the back of his head pressed against the door, low groans leaving his lips with each tighten of your throat. 

“so fucking good, missed that mouth,” drawled out of his lips as you worked him faster, wetter, your saliva beginning to run down his thighs. he loved it messy, dirty, you were taking him in his favorite way. he was in heaven, but the impatience was only growing. he needed you loud, screaming, cumming around his dick over and over again. 

“should’ve came and got it then,” you shot back as you pulled off of him with a pop, catching your breath. tears laid in your lash line, lipstick so smudged and faded hongjoong wondered if it made a ring around the base of him.

“on the bed,” he ordered before you had the chance to take him in your mouth again and you were on your feet in a second, ripping your clothes off before you nearly jumped on the bed, greeting him with all of your limbs planted on the mattress on all fours. 

“impatient,” he mumbled as he undressed himself, crawling onto the bed behind you, leaving a rough smack against your ass.

you moaned in response as your body jerked forward, legs spreading further in response. he loved that about you, the pain slut that lived inside you even if you tried to put up a dominant front. you weren’t shy about what you wanted, what you needed from him, always so responsive. maybe you were his favorite. 

he slipped inside you with ease, you were wet enough to take him, you’d been waiting for this for hours. he set a brutal pace immediately, pounding into you leaving you a loud, crying mess. it wasn’t long before your arms gave out below you, sending your face flying into the comforter, definitely leaving streaks of black from your eye makeup. hongjoong couldn’t wait to see the mess you’d made. 

“such a perfect pussy, like it was made for me,” his voice was slurred and low, close to babbles as he spoke deliriously between thrusts, he felt fucked out too, entranced by your pussy that was sucking him in. 

“‘t was, it is, it's yours,” your voice matched his, cheek pressed to the mattress, one hand clawing behind yourself and another at the sheets to grab something, anything for leverage, “don’t stop, so good.” 

he didn’t indulge in your grabs as he felt himself getting close, he definitely wasn’t lasting as long as he wanted to, but after a small break and another line he’d be roaring to go again. he wrapped an arm around your torso, middle finger finding your clit, circling it steadily. you cried out, jerking against him, thighs starting to shake under him.

“gonna cum!” you cried out, the strain in your voice let him know the tears that were in your eyes earlier had fell. he kept at his rhythm, fucking into you at the same pace of your circles and you tightened around him, letting go, crying out with no remorse for anyone who might also be here. as you grabbed at his hand and forced it off of you he let himself focus on his own orgasm, fucking back into you at the pace he knew would have him letting go in seconds. 

“inside, joong, please,” you begged, voice rough and raspy, not giving him the chance to ask you where you wanted him. he indulged, emptying himself inside you with a groan, stilling as he leaned over the two koi fish swimming up your back. 

your legs gave out after he pulled out, falling flat against your stomach, legs still twitching against the cotton. you moaned at the emptiness, the release, and hongjoong laid himself beside you. you stayed in silence for minutes, breaths of air occupying the air, the only thing you could hear in your bedroom. you had 80s thrash metal posters all over your walls, different paintings, things he recognized from your old room. it made him smile, knowing he was back here again, a different apartment yet the things he pointed out last time were still here. two years have gone by yet some things just don’t change.

“gonna have to show me your place next time,” you finally spoke, turning your head to face him, pulling your arms under your face to rest on.

“next time?” hongjoong asked, raising an eyebrow, “what makes you so confident that there’ll be a next time?”

you rolled your eyes, “you have no choice, there’s no way in hell i’m letting you get away from me again. and you’re putting your number in my phone before you go.”

you didn’t know that he had every intention of seeing you again, of showing up whenever you called, of doing whatever the hell you wanted him to whenever you wanted him to do it. he didn’t know that those calls would come quicker than he thought, he’d take you time and time again, these visits becoming more frequent the more time you spent together. he decided the feelings he harbored didn’t need to be unpacked, he could leave them unaddressed if that meant he could see you, be with you, get himself inside you after a long day. for the months to follow he stood by that, he didn’t think much of your relationship other than the fact that you had one, unlabeled and undisclosed. 

he left your apartment the next morning slowly, much unlike last time, almost as if he didn’t want to leave. but you called him later that night, asked him if he wanted to come over, and of course he said yes, he hadn’t said no to that question yet. he found out you lived with two of your bandmates, yasu, the leader and the green haired drummer he learned was noa. they were both just as cool as you, that much he knew from the recording session you’d spent together, and hongjoong got along with them just as well as he got along with you. 

he’d spent many nights partying with you and your band after shows or on random weeknights, just as much as you spent time with hongjoong and his friends from brooklyn, or even nights with just himself and mingi. you got to know each other on a level he hadn’t expected you to, one he didn’t necessarily allow you to, including that you found out his real age, you didn’t speak to him for an entire night of drinking after he’d told you the truth. you let it go later that night when he had you pressed against the wall, outside, behind the bar you were at, fingers scissoring into you for ignoring him, denying you release for the following hours to come.

hongjoong was at all of your recording sessions, he helped with marketing your band, helped other interns and even your manager with scheduling performances, interviews, you started to bleed into every part of his life, every aspect of his job. you found out about his laziness with schoolwork, you denied him the pleasure of being inside you until he got his shit together before the semester ended, it was a long two weeks for him, his fist and his coke dealer. 

hongjoong was enamored by you, your lifestyle, your entire being. he didn’t ever think about what you were, he kept his thoughts about your relationship very surface level, terrified as to what would happen if he looked any deeper than that. he didn’t even take the time to consider whether or not you were exclusive, he didn’t let himself think about what you’d look like under someone else and how that made him feel, he didn’t need to. neither of you had any time, you were always with him, he was always with you if he wasn’t busy with the company or what was left of his junior year, you were too wrapped up in one another to think about anyone else.

somehow hongjoong was one of the last people to find out about your first tour, a quick four months across north america over the summer, ranging from june to september. he was ecstatic when he was told by his superior, he couldn’t wait to talk to you about it, the celebratory party to follow, just the fact that you were growing, making it just like he knew you would.

the label had you in a quick meeting when he found out, thirty minutes you spent inside the room with frosted glass windows, hongjoong spent his lunch break waiting just outside the door. the more time he spent tapping his foot, bouncing his knee, the more his brain started to think. you’d known about this for a month now, sitting on the information, not sharing it with him when he thought you shared everything. it became the longest thirty minutes of his life, he hadn’t felt this way in a long time, the drop of his stomach was such a rare occurrence he couldn’t remember five other times it’s ever happened to him. why hadn’t you told him sooner?

it terrified him, enough to leave his spot outside the door, to go all the way outside the building until he was greeted with the scent of summer in manhattan. he paced up and down the length of the building, racking his brain for why this was happening now, after he’d spent so much time with you, after he’d gotten completely comfortable around you, after he’d sank way too fucking deep. why hadn’t you told him sooner? it was as if his world was closing in on him, he hadn’t even felt this way when he was on the brink of consciousness before narcan was shot into his bloodstream, he’d never felt an attachment to someone let alone having it on the brink of being ripped away from him. this was betrayal.

it was only four months, but that was almost double the time you’d actually spent together. he felt himself walking on a road the past two months, a tunnel that had something unknown at the end, something totally new to him. he allowed it, he was blissfully ignoring his discomfort, the unknown, embracing this new type of relationship, this type of closeness with someone. he’d only gotten this close with mingi, only just allowed that type of friendship, he hadn’t let anyone else in since then, not even jag who he spent most of his time with other than you and mingi. he wouldn’t allow himself to bleed so freely, to show himself so naked, to give anyone else the opportunity to know him or hurt him. he kept everyone at arm's length for a reason.

hongjoong assumed this was the end of whatever was perched on his shoulder as he looked up to the clear, bright sky beyond the buildings, that was the only explanation he could muster up. he said goodbye, he thanked it for being with him all this time, for keeping a watchful eye, keeping him above the water. he wished it well.

he sniffed a bump and walked back inside the building with a distant cloud looming over him, a stoic look to his face, a carelessness that draped over him like your bedsheets in the early hours of the morning. he wouldn’t let you see him in such a state, you’d seen enough of him, more than you were ever supposed to. 

hongjoong has never believed in regret, he’s a firm believer that everything happens for a reason, everything you go through is to teach you something. from overdosing on more than one occasion, it taught him to not do someone else’s coke, to know his dealer on a personal level, to know what his drugs were cut with. from disappointing his parents time and time again, it taught him to get sneakier, not give them hopes that he could shatter. from turning in weeks worth of homework late and only just passing his last semester of his junior year, it taught him to stay on top of his studies or he could easily lose everything he’s worked for. from sleeping with the lead guitarist of a random band in brooklyn and ending up an intern at republic records, it taught him that purpose and opportunities are everywhere if you’re keeping an eye out for them. from getting into something that’s the closest thing to a romantic relationship he’d ever experienced with the woman of his dreams, it taught him that if you leave your feelings exposed, someone is able to betray them, take them in their hands and toy with them, crush them if they wanted to.

he thought himself naïve. he wouldn’t allow it to happen again. 

with a quick fifteen minutes and still not a word to you, he put his walls back up, higher than they’d ever been before, he was sina, rose and maria. he was aurelian when he walked straight past you in the lobby, hadrian when he walked past your bandmates who whipped their heads around to watch him walk to the elevator, jericho when he slipped inside the thankfully open door. he went back to the studio where jag was waiting for him, who playfully asked him if he was fucking his girlfriend in the bathroom and if that’s why he was late.

hongjoong snapped, told him to fuck off and jag listened. he didn’t ask any questions for the rest of the session, they went through the motions, got their workload finished for the day and went their separate ways. jag knew, of course jag knew, jag knew hongjoong like the back of his hand by now. since january, five months the two have been a pair, close without being close, jag is an observant man and hongjoong is not good at hiding his emotions. 

hongjoong didn’t answer your calls, didn’t answer your incessant rings of his doorbell, ignored your begs at the door of the recording studio, it didn’t take long until everything stopped. you got on that bus headed straight to florida and he couldn’t stop the slip, the easy slide of becoming the eighteen year old version of himself again. 

he turned his brain off outside of the music he made, the paintings he created, the drawings that now littered even the floor of his bedroom. the label was busy, he immersed himself in his work, he didn’t even have school to keep him occupied until august, he let every ounce of his energy go into republic records and substances. after work he was in the pits of brooklyn, seeing every show he could, in every club in the city, taking every drug he could get his hands on. his friends were happy to have him back, to have the fun hongjoong in the mix for their benders, another body to sleep with at the end of the night. 

mingi forced him out of it before school started up again, telling him to get his shit together or he’d really lose everything this time. hongjoong was malleable by now, brain so fried from his summer that he just nodded at mingi and tried to set himself up. mingi helped him, basically set hongjoong up himself, enrolled him in his senior year and chose his classes. hongjoong didn’t care, he wished he could do it himself, wished he could think for longer than two minutes without your name crossing his mind. for someone who couldn’t remember your name for the life of him, it was the only thing he could think now, it wouldn’t leave him the fuck alone. 

at this point hongjoong thought you a phantom, that night he saw you as a creature of the night would really come true — you invaded his dreams, his nightmares, his trips when he dropped acid. you were everywhere, you were everything, he didn’t know how he could ever come back from this, he wasn’t sure if he even wanted to. 

as he sat on the balcony of his apartment in mid august with a joint between his fingers, hours after vomiting up the oxy one of his friends had slipped him, he decided he had enough.

hongjoong is a lot of things. he’s obsessive, he’s a wild card, he’s an addict, he’s a hard worker, he’s a partier.

but first and foremost, hongjoong is a creator.

he creates art, he creates music, he writes, he draws, he paints. he recites songs from memory, he plays them on the guitar after hearing them just once, hongjoong is gifted. hongjoong created himself, he created this life, he created every path he’s ever walked on. fuck luck and fuck fate, hongjoong created every situation he’s ever been in, created every opportunity for himself, created the name that gets passed through every ear of republic records. 

hongjoong created himself, and he’d burn the world down before someone could ever take that away from him. by september he’d become a junior producer, crossing the line of intern to employee in just nine months, faster than anyone else in republic record’s history. 

he just hoped his resolve stayed intact when you finally stepped off that tour bus and walked back into republic records, ready to begin recording your band’s second album.

[luveline]

Hi, I’ve never sent a request before so forgive me if this sounds weird I’m still learning how to use Tumblr lol but what if Eddie and reader go to Roan’s school for parent-teacher conference and her teacher shows them something Roan wrote or made expressing how much she loves her new mom and her new little family🩷 and reader cries from how happy and loved Roan and Eddie make her feel🥹

ty for ur request, it doesn't sound weird at all! eddie and roan —you and eddie attend roan's PT conference, stepmother!reader, 1.2k

You hide from the biting winter wind in Eddie's side. “Is it supposed to be this cold?” you ask. 

“You sound surprised. It's December,” he says, though he puts his arm over your shoulders to cover as much of you as he can. “I told you to wear a coat.” 

“The coat ruins my outfit,” you say. 

“You being cold ruins the outfit.” He nods towards the step up into the school building. “You could say the outfit ruins what's underneath–” 

“What's wrong with you?”  

“An appreciation for my wife?” 

“Stop saying that, you're confusing people. Steve asked me last night if we got married in private–” 

“You're always talking to Steve,” Eddie complains, “he doesn't even call me anymore, he just wants to talk to you.” 

He'd called to ask if he was still babysitting, actually, but Eddie wouldn't know that because he and Roan had been playing monsters at the time, speaking to each other in gruff tones while they made sandwiches for dinner. 

“You have a problem.” 

Eddie can't decide whether to bicker or dote, squeezing you tightly, a promise about new problems lost to the growing ruckus of the elementary school after hours. Some parents have brought their children, but the majority stand chatting in lines to see the teachers. You and Eddie have come through the main entrance of the building rather than the side door where Roan enters, and the walk to Mrs. Lundy's room is longer than usual, though far from unpleasant. Light shines through the windows where a rainbow of creatures have been painted, leaving glowing shapes of apricot, cerulean, and lilac on your skin as you pass. 

“You're like a Christmas tree,” Eddie says. 

“I just need some tinsel.” You point at the decorations hanging from Mrs. Lundy's doorway. “Like that.” 

“You want some tinsel? I'll get you some tinsel, baby, just give me a minute. And maybe distract her.” 

You refuse to help him steal from Mrs. Lundy, and spend your time in line waiting with his hands held firmly in yours to prohibit any theft. Eddie moans about being jailed but is otherwise content. He quite likes it, actually, rearranging your fingers to stroke your knuckles. 

Mrs. Lundy is smiling, happy to see you and brag about your girl. She starts with Roan's general education, her behaviour, her grades, though this young she doesn't have grades so much as milestones. Roan is smart but no wizz kid (not that you care), she's kind (but not always good at sharing), she's loud, and rambunctious, a great artist, and she's very, very happy. 

“She talks about your wedding all the time. Every day. She tells us she's going to be the flower girl, and the best man, and that she has a beautiful dress.” Mrs. Lundy beams. “She's walking on sunshine.” The teacher's smile turns soft, almost wistful. “Well, she's Roan. You know what she's like better than I do.” 

Your cheeks ache with pride. 

“She's a good kid,” Eddie says. 

“Yes!” Mrs. Lundy reaches across the desk for a turquoise-coloured folder. “There was actually something I wanted to share with you both… You know we have creative writing assignments, and obviously we help them with making real sentences, but what she has to say is very much of her own volition.” 

Mrs. Lundy pulls a sheet of paper from the folder and puts it down in front of your hands. “The prompt was what makes you happy,” she says. 

The first sentence is simple. 

My mommy. 

A drawing of you decorates the page above the lines, so clearly you, your smile wide and pink. 

My mommy is kind and I love her. Dad sayd the wedding is speshul becase he loves her, but she will be my mom. She makes me so happy. Mommy says she loves me all of the time, and she brushus my hair. My best part of the day is when Y/N comes home and hugs me. We are so happy, and Lucky gets dinner. I love my dad too, and Uncle Wayn. 

Her spelling errors have been corrected in green pen, and her backwards letters are written forwards for her to copy. You read the entire paragraph in a blur, thinking about how long it must've taken her to get it all down, nearly an entire page in her bubbly handwriting, big letters running off of the page. 

“Needless to say,” Mrs. Lundy says, “that most children write about their families, or their pets, or their toys. But Roan was extremely focused on the word love. She's clearly going home to a loving home every night.” Mrs. Lundy smiles at Eddie. You nearly miss it, reading the paragraph again, and then a third time. 

“Can I take this?” you ask, clearing your throat, tears brewed and bobbing on your waterline, desperate to be shed. “Is that okay?” 

Eddie laughs and elbows you in the arm. “Come on, it's hardly news.” 

You wipe your eyes before you can cry in front of them both. “I'm sorry, just– can I?” 

Mrs. Lundy beams again, emphasising the well-worn smile lines at the corners of her lips and creasing beside her eyes. 

You hold it together well for a little while. Eddie talks over your wobbly silence, a hand on your shoulder, assuring Mrs. Lundy that you're all, in fact, very happy, and he's just glad that Roan is being a good student and friend to her classmates. Mrs. Lundy's kindness and Roan's love letter to you has knocked you entirely off kilter, and you're crying before you've reached the car. They're happy tears. 

“Come on,” Eddie says, taking the paper you've folded carefully from your fingers as they clench. “She's said nicer to you in person.” 

And sure she has. Roan loves hitting you with the saccharine when you're not expecting it. Drying her hair after bath time, totally distracted, she'll kiss your cheek and say, “You're so pretty.” She sprinkles I love you's wherever they'll fit like her dad does, and she shows it with little gifts and cuddles and invitations. Y/N, do you want to have a fashion show with me? Y/N, can we have ice cream in bed? Can I do your hair, please, mommy? 

“It's different. It's different,” you insist, scrambling to find the words. “She's…” You rub your eyes. Your makeup is smudging, but you can't help it. “I don't even know what to say.” 

Eddie shrugs. Lean shoulders, a loving arm behind your back, the car in sight but getting no closer, he comforts you in the middle of the parking lot while the passing headlights kiss your shoes. “You know how much she loves you, babe. This is a good thing, right? You're not upset?” 

“Not upset,” you clarify. 

“Okay, good. Is this a bad time for me to say that I am profoundly jealous right now? I used to get all the drawings and cards, I used to get Mother's day gifts. I have a mother's day card up in the attic… might have to get it out,” —he kisses your cheek— “just to cope.” 

You laugh through a sniffle. “Let's go get it,” you say. 

He presses Roan's assignment back into your hand. “You can keep that one, but don't get it out around me. I'm serious.” 

[foxienix]

PAINT A SMILE Legacy Challenge

GENERATION 1: DIDN’T MEAN IT

Bouns Trait For Baby Daddy: Romantically Abusive - TRIGGER WARNING⛔ | Patreon

GENERATION 2: PAINT A SMILE

Growing up you (and your siblings if you they have any) grew up in a toxic environment for half of your life. Even though things got better, that part still stuck with you. This made you afraid of ending up in a situation like that yourself. This results in you playing the field due to your fear of getting hurt. Will you get over your fear and let yourself fall in love? Or will the fear be to strong, leaving you single for life?

Start as a Young Adult

Aspiration: Serial Romantic (Must complete before choose love or stay single)

Traits: Flirty & 2 more

Skills: Writing

Career: Freelance Writer 

Hookup with four different guys and become pregnant.

Have two kids. (Twins or you can have one later)

Meet your spouse through a mutual friend (If they choose to find love)

Live out your days as a famous writer and cherish time with your kids. (If you choose to stay single)

Write a book to pass down to your kids. 

Flirty Trait: Flirty Trait – Welcome to KiaraSims4Mods!

GENERATION 3: REVENGE IS SWEETER THAN YOU EVER WERE

Your teen years were great. You got good grades, had an amazing group of friends and the best boyfriend ever…or did you? Deciding to surprise your boyfriend one night at his place, you go to sneak in through the window only to catch him cheating on you…WITH YOUR COUSIN!

Life starts as a teen

Aspiration: University Bound (YA Asp: City Native)

Traits: Romantic + Any Traits

Skill: Cooking, Gourmet Cooking

Career: Master Chef 

Get your heart broken in high school (cousin steals your boyfriend)

For the remainder of your high school experience you can…(make your ex & cousin miserable or focus on getting into Uni and vow to get revenge later.)

Go to University

Meet your love in Uni

Humiliate your ex & cousin in some way. You decide the revenge so get creative. (If you choose revenge later.)

Move in together with your new love to San Myshuno after graduation. 

Have three children.

Make sure your heir has at least one really good childhood male friend. 

EXTRA TEEN ASPIRATIONS: Teen Aspirations Bundle - updated for HSY | Patreon

GENERATION 4: THAT’S ME RIGHT THERE

As you were growing up, seeing the beautiful love your parents had for each other made you want that for yourself. You weren’t sure if it was possible but you were hopeful. Finding love in San Myshuno however wasn’t working out. A life of fun in the sun was what you always wanted. So you packed up and moved to Sulani to start your new life. Will you get your epic love story?

Young Adult Life Stage

Aspiration: Beach Life

Skill: Conservation

Career: Conservationist

Have your male childhood friend move away to Sulani as a Teen.

Go on 3 failed dates.

Move to Sulani as a Young Adult

Work on restoring Sulani’s beauty 

Reconnect with your childhood friend

Start to see them in a more romantic light

Go on dates

Fall in love with your childhood friend

Eventually Marry (Beach Wedding)

Start a Family (You can do this before or after they are adults)

Have lots of family photos on the walls.

GENERATION 5: PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE

Life in a tropical paradise was great, but you wanted something different. You’ve always had a love for film and dreamed of becoming an actor. Your parents did their best to support your dreams. Your room was always filled with movie and TV show posters. One day, you make a vow to pursue acting and become famous. 

Aspiration: Master Actor

Skill: Acting, Charisma 

Trait: Self-Absorbed + Any Traits (Leave the main trait for last.)

Career: Actor

Have family movie night every Friday growing up.

Make sure your heir has movie/TV posters on their room wall

Go out to the movies with friends as a teen.

Join Drama Club

(Optional) Study drama at University

Move to Del Sol Valley

Work on your Acting Career

Find love with another actor from a different background than your heir. (can be a base game actor or whoever you want.)

Max Fame

Have children in the spotlight

Movie Buff Trait: Mod The Sims - New Hobby Traits

GENERATION 6: RUN BABY RUN

You grew up in the public eye, and you hated it. So you left, the fame, your family. You left it all behind and ran away to (Newcrest, Forgotten Hollow, or Moonwood Mill.) Growing up, you much preferred the peace and quiet, but that didn’t mean you didn’t love adventure. You just only happened to experience it through your books. You were living out your deepest, darkest fantasies in the comfort of your room with your head buried in a book. After finally leaving home, you had no idea that you would be able to live out those dark fantasies. It all started when you met them.

Aspiration: Soulmate

Skill: Romance, Mischief 

Trait: Bookworm, Day Dreamer

Runaway from home at 18/19 (Young Adult)

Move to Newcrest, Forgotten Hollow, or Moonwood Mill

If you move to Newcrest have your sim meet their bad boy, mafia kid, etc. (Someone who's meant to be a bad influence.)

If you move to Forgotton Hollow meet your broody vampire prince.

If you move to Moonwood Mill meet a hot werewolf beta destined to become the Alpha.

Befriend this person and start your BookTok Fantasy.

Have your sim get into a sticky situation or however many you want and have your dark and dangerous crush come to your rescue. 

Have them disagree with one another a few times but still have love for each other. Like they are fighting their urges for one another. 

Eventually, you should have something big happen that finally makes things official between them. (Your sim is kidnapped, almost dies, etc.)

Max the Mischief skill

Woohoo…often, as if they can’t get enough of each other.

Become pregnant

Have them marry and build their empire together.

Day Dreamer Trait: New Emotional Traits by Kuttoe (itch.io)

GENERATION 7: BETTER TOGETHER

Being raised in a powerful crime family you were always being whisked away or hidden for your protection. It was a life you weren’t happy with. You hated how people fantasized about your life being cool and dangerous. As a child, you made friends with one of the staff’s kids. To you, they felt more like family then your own. You found yourself often wishing you had been born in their family instead. You would rather help than harm others. Tired of the criminal lifestyle your family leads. A plan is formed, and you plot to stop them with the help of your friend and her family so you can finally live the life you want.

Aspiration: Firefighter Super Hero

Traits: Ambitious + Any Bonus Reward Trait: Brave

Skill: Max 3 skills of your choice

Career: Firefighter 

Have your sim make friends with a Butler/Nanny’s kid. 

Become very close to them both throught you childhood and on through teens. 

Have a distant relationship with your parents

As a Young Adult, put your plan in motion and get rid of your parents. (Do this however you want. Be Creative.)

Move to any world you haven’t used yet. 

Start your new life as a Firefighter 

Save your future love from a fire. 

Have 4 children

Have at least one hobby

Firefighter Career: Firefighter (Active) Career - The Sims 4 Mods - CurseForge

Firefighter Super Hero Aspiration: Firefighter Super Hero Aspiration – Welcome to KiaraSims4Mods!

GENERATION 8: BAD IDEA, RIGHT?

Growing up your fire fighter parent was your hero. The way they always cared for and protected others. Although you admired what they did, you quickly realized that path wasn’t for you. As a child you were always getting into your moms jewelry as you played dress up. Fashion was your thing. Even as you got older, you loved mixing and matching different clothes and accessories to fit your own style. 

Aspiration: Crystal Crafter 

Traits: Creative + Any 

Skills: Jewelry Design

Create Jewelry while working the Fashion Career (or freelance it)

Get your brand out there and make that coin. 

(Optional) Use the Thift Shop to create and sell looks.

Have a relationship fail either as a teen or early in your Young Adult life and give it a second chance later on with a better outcome.

Going back to your families hardworking roots. Start your own retail clothing business while still selling jewlery on the side. 

Become a surrogate for someone only to find out they mistreat the child and save them, later adopting them. 

GENERATION 9: FAST TIMES

Life for you was alright, it was simple and sweet. It was a good life…for your parents. Although you had no reason to dislike your childhood, you craved adventure. You wanted a life of excitement. So, when you saw extreme spirts for the first time, you knew that’s what you wanted to do. It became your whole world. All you talked about was extreme sports and your dream of becoming a Pro-Snowboarder. 

Aspiration: Extreme Sports Enthusiasts

Traits: Adventurous + Any

Skills: Snowboarding or Skiing, Rock Climbing

Watch sports alot growing up

Talk about sports with others

As a teen practice snowboarding whenever your family goes on Vacation to Mt. Komorebi

Move to Mt. Komorebi as a Young Adult

Complete your aspiration and and max the snowboarding/skiing skill

Meet the love of your life as a chance encounter at the hot springs.

Have kids and visit your parents for Holiday with the kids. 

Have the children have close relationship with their grandparents

Marry as an Elder

GENERATION 10: WHERE YOU BELONG

One of your parents was a pro-snowboarder. You had a really good relationship with your grandparents. As a child whenever you got to visit them they would tell stories about how they took in your aunts and uncles when they were kids, giving them a family and a place to call home. The story was so sweet and always touched your heart when you heard it. As you grew older, you became an advocate for for adoption and try to save kids from the screwed up foster system. 

Aspiration: Big Happy Family

Traits: Family Oriented

Skill: Parenting

Career: Influencer (Simfluencer)

Once you reach Young Adulthood you can begin.

Move out to Copper dale or San Sequoia

Sign up to become a foster parent

Meet your future spouse at the park and go on dates

Take in some kids and build a strong relationship with them. 

Adopt five children

Marry your partner as an Adult

Document your life and post your videos on your channel.

Have a really good relationship with at least 2 or 3 kids

Foster Family Mod: Foster Family - The Sims 4 Mods - CurseForge

GENERATION 11: BE YOU ONLY YOU

You were happy with the life you were given. After spending some of your life believing you were adopted you find out you in fact were adopted by your birth parent. Being in a household full of kids wasn't always easy but you loved your family all the same. That being said you craved simplicity, a simple quiet life on a farm was your dream. As Young adult you moved to Henford-on-Bagley.

• Aspiration: Country Caretaker

• Traits: Animal Enthusiasts

• Max the cross stitching skill

• Have a strong relationship with your birth parent after being adopted by them.

• Live in a chaotic household

• Have a love for animals

• As a YA move to Henford-on-Bagley

• Go on Family Camping trips at least 3 times before you children become teens.

• Start off the grid

• Start your farm from the ground up. (Either build or renovate a rundown home)

• Tend to your farm daily (you can get a farmhand)

• Meet your special person in town

• Have 2 children

• Get married to your person

• Make friends with a wealthy sim from Sulani or Tartosa. (They could be a sim they met who was vacationing in the country or a trip you went on and met them.)

• Spend summer vacations at their beach house.

• Have your love die as a adult

• Have their friend a divorcee with two kids

Hire A Farmhand Mod: Mod: Hire a Farmhand (Cottage Living Required) | Patreon

GENERATION 12: The Summer I Turned Pretty

Growing up on the farm was nice and peaceful. You loved having all the animals around and even thought you might take it over some day. This is until your mom met a friend from (tartosa or sulani) your family started vacation with them. After your dad passed they trips became more frequent. Growing up with her kids you secretly develop a crush on one of them, at least you thought it was a secret but it turns out everyone realized and we're secretly rooting for it. Things get more interesting as you get older.

• Get close to your mom's friend almost like an aunt or second mom.

• Take vacations with your family to Sulani or Tartosa (depending on where the friend lives)

• As a child have a crush on one the their kids

• Have low confidence as a child

• Have your child heir go through an awkward phase.

• You and your sibling become very close with your mom's friends kids up into teenhood.

• Have a glow up as a teen.

• Have both of the siblings start to notice you differently

• Have the sibling you crush on be a bit difficult with you (the push and pull)

• Meet some friends during summer vacation.

• Have a whirlwind Rollercoaster of a will they won't they with each sibling

• Eventually decide who you will choose to be with and fall in love.

• Have a beautiful and strong relationship with the one you chose.

• Have your spouse parent pass during one of the summer trips

• Get through it together after almost being pushed away

• Have as many children as you want starting as a young adult and take over the tradition your mothers started.

GENERATION 13: Fight Song

You end up starting your career in the cutthroat, fast paced world of medicine. You start as a resident learning the ropes and paying your dues. Being a doctor had always been your dream. You loved helping make others feel better, however, you knew you couldn't save everyone. Even still you work hard and do the best you can. During your time a resident, one of the senior doctors starts hitting on you. You politely decline, explaining you're not interested and continue with your work. Little did you know this act of rejection would only make them want you more. What's even worse is they are a highly respected doctor who could ruin your career before even starts.

This doctor continues to make passes at you and even inappropriately touches you. Despite your constant rejections and pleadings to stop they don't and instead threaten you. "If you tell they just make it look like you were the one pursuing them to no end. Afraid of having your dream destroyed, you keep quiet. Constantly looking over your shoulder, in a state of anxiety. However, all hope is not lost as one day the harassment you've endured daily gets noticed by another doctor who steps in to protect you. Keeping an eye on you whenever your harasser is near. Once they able to get definitive proof your luck begins to change and feelings grown between you and your savior.

Join the Doctor Career as a YA

Have one of the doctors continously makes things difficult for you at work.

Have that doctor make passes at your sim

Have another doctor become your savior

Eventually expose your harasser

Develop feelings for your savior throughout this

Max the handiness skill

Max logic skill

Select any branch

Complete the Doctor career

Fall in love with your savior

Get married

Have 3 children

GOOGLE DOCS LINK: PAINT A SMILE Legacy Challenge - Google Docs

[wiltedprayers]

i know Bastogne is universally recognized as the Best Band of Brothers episode and listen, I get it and also agree in the sense that the story portrayed is the most interesting and overall it's incredibly well written. but I'd just like to point out the excellence that's episode 5, "Crossroads."

(Crossroads is the episode that focuses the most on Dick Winters — ep 1, 2, and later 10 also do but it's not as centralized as it is here — We follow Dick through an anachronistic series of events, and the episode ends with E company moving towards Bastogne. It's directed by Tom Hanks.)

I love this episode because of all the different creative choices it has and how it stands out visually and sonically in comparison to all the other eps. so in technical aspects, it's my favorite of the bunch. this distinction is exemplary in the sequences that go from Dick writing his report quietly in his office to him leading the attack on the SS companies. It's very interesting to me how loud and obnoxious the typing gets for both Dick and the audience after a while; in the battlefield, there's nothing to pull Dick out of his concentration, always the focused leader. he has a mission to do, and he intends to carry it out as smoothly as possible (as seen in this episode). in the office, though, he's distracted, losing track of time, almost physically feeling the noises of the typewriter as if it was the sound of a gun going off inside his ears.

the back and forth between time periods is amazing. the sound design in this episode is my personal favorite (in a show with explosions and rifles, you wouldn't think a clacking typewriter and a man out of breath would be the reason for this). the combined sounds of Dick writing with the gunshots going off, the change in paragraphs with the tearing of the tape? Dick and the company running towards the enemy (clearly screaming) with nothing but the sounds of their breaths and footsteps making noise? just excellent sound design.

also, the cinematography. I could talk for hours about how good this episode's photography and lighting are. there's this particular moment I love after Alley is shown to be hit and bleeding on the barn table, where we immediately cut to Dick writing about this in his report. it's all about the stark contrast between the lived experience of seeing one of your men badly wounded and then simply writing and reading about it.

the night shots as well. it's very easy to fail in making a night scene both properly lit but also indicative of the time (some shows make it look dark as shit basically), but Band of Brothers does it well: in the first pic, you only have the moonlight as illumination, which is not much, but it helps to get you into Dick's perspective of having to go through this mission in the depths of night with such a limited field of vision.

there's several night scenes in this episode, most notably the battle on the Crossroads, but also Operation Pegasus, the night Moose is shot, Dick in Paris, and then Easy company going into Bastogne.

finally, the color grading. band of brothers is a strange show that's always changing in its color grading — maybe the different directors had no prior discussion before filming the episodes, as it happened with the writers' room, but I doubt this — nevertheless, Crossroads' color grading stands out, specially in the long-awaited scene of E company charging against the SS companies.

the high contrast of the dark shadows with the desaturated greens (and later reds) make for quite a sight, especially if you compare it to the warmer tones of the present scenes of Dick writing. the show wants you to know how different these moments are for Dick, who under fire is collected and focused but is ultimately crumbling under the bureaucratic pressure.

also I freaking love all the shots and framing of the typewriter. nothing to say other than they're cool as hell.

and this isn't even covering the emotional and character-driven aspects of the story! (that's a post for another day, maybe). for me Crossroads is a masterpiece of an episode in what it means to use camera, lighting, and sound to make your story as immersing as possible; it connects beautifully all technical aspects of filmmaking and, in my opinion, delivers one of the show's best episodes (that's accompanied with a great script.)

[tarotbydelilah444]

✨🤰Details Of Your Future Pregnancy + Baby

hi guys, I’m back with another pac reading. This pac reading will be about your future baby + details about your future pregnancy. This reading is for entertainment purposes. I hope that you enjoy the reading and continue to keep following and sharing my posts, if you enjoy the content. Sending you love and light 🤍✨ - Delilah pile 1 | 🤎

Your pregnancy might be unexpected, so you were not expecting nor planning to have a baby when you find out. You could have been in denial or doubted that you were pregnant. You will definitely be shocked when you find out and try to hid this information from your person. For some, you could have strategically planned for this pregnancy without your partner knowing ( it may not have been in a malicious way), maybe you wanted a baby but your partner may not have been ready for one at the time.

Your partner will likely not be happy, but they won’t be mad about it either when they find out or when you tell them. They will likely confront you and you two will talk it out and kiss and make up in the end.

Your family will have very mixed feelings about the news of your pregnancy, but they will happy about the news for the most part. They will see this pregnancy as a blessing no matter the circumstances. They may see this baby/pregnancy as a miracle that will bring healing and reunite the family and bring balance into everyone’s life. Maybe you could have had issues with your family in the past, but this baby will put an end to any animosity/ issues within the family.

You will be glowing during your pregnancy. Motherhood will definitely look good on you and your baby will be healthy and growing. Everything will go well during your pregnancy journey. You may get spoiled a lot by others and your partner. You will be very relaxed and well taken care of. People will buy you gifts for the baby and you will start buying gifts and necessities for your baby before their birth. You will also be eating healthy and prioritizing you health to ensure a healthy pregnancy. Overall your pregnancy will be very peaceful and you will enjoy every moment and milestone during your pregnancy.

Your baby might be a girl. You and your partner might think it’s a boy, or you or your partner wanted a boy. Either way, you and your partner only care if the baby is healthy and whole. You could possibly have twins, so a boy and girl. Your baby/ies will be gifted, she/he/they will be able to hear and communicate with higher realms or spiritual beings. Your baby will be very aware and alert, they could also start talking or learning at a faster rate than most babies/toddlers. They will be very talkative as they age and self expression will be very important to this child. Your baby will be very intelligent as they mature. They will likely make good grades in school and they will like to learn a lot. They will be very loving, kind, caring, sensitive, independent, studious, curious, and dependable as they get older. Your baby will likely cry a lot, so you and your partner will not get much sleep for a while, but it will bring you and your partner much closer as you take in the joy of raising your child/children together. Your baby/babies could be a Gemini, Taurus, Capricorn, or Sagittarius.

channeled messages | straight textured hair, healing/self-love, healing family issues, surprised gender, spoiled-rotten, throat chakra, divine masculine, divine feminine, dark brown/black hair, brown eyes, black, or dark green eyes, angel baby, restless nights, blessed with beauty & grace, anxiety, and nightmares

pile 2 | 🧸

Your pregnancy will be exciting news that you have been waiting for, so a lot of you wanted to have a baby badly and you will be pretty excited and ready to share the news with your partner and others. You may announce your pregnancy to your partner in a creative way or in form of a present. You and your partner may make love after the news. You could have intuitively known that your were pregnant.

Your partner will be very happy about the news. They will literally get emotional once you tell them the news. This will only increase their love for you and they literally smother you with all forms of affection. They will be very supportive to you during the pregnancy.

Your family will be also happy and excited about the news. Someone may have already knew that you were pregnant, maybe they saw it in a dream or they could sensed it in general. Lots of calls and messages from your family and your person’s family to congratulate you and your partner. It will be a  welcoming and emotional experience for everyone.

You and your partner may move into a bigger home or will renovate your home to support your growing family. Your pregnancy will go very well and might go by very fast. You will feel very supported and loved through your pregnancy journey. Your family and friends might even plan you a baby shower and it will be quite a celebration. You will feel very stable, secured, and loved during your pregnancy. I also feel like you will be grateful for everything that you’ve been blessed with. You will likely like to be home a lot during your pregnancy with your partner preparing for your new arrival. You might have headaches or have a hard time sleeping while you are pregnant, so take it slow and try not to stress. You might have more dreams relating to your baby during your pregnancy.

Your baby may be a boy, but if you have a girl, she will likely have fire placements or masculine qualities, in regards to their personality. You and your partner are in it for a wild child. Your child will be a handful and likely a trouble maker. Your child will be very ferocious, brave, energetic, bratty, playful, and a ball of energy that refuses to be tamed. They may throw temper tantrums when they get upset or when you don’t give them what they want. This baby will like to explore and always looking for the next adventure or something to get into, so make sure to put them in lots of sports and have activities for them to channel their fiery energy. Your baby will love sports and is very competitive in anything he/she gets into and it may get them in some trouble sometimes as they mature. They will be very noisy or like to make a lot of noise/ or they love music. They will be very intelligent and intuitive, so you won’t be able to fool them or lie to them. They will like to be free and independent, so give them enough space to explore and learn new things on their own. They also have good emotional intelligence and they could even be an empath as they mature. Your baby could be a Aries, Leo, Sagittarius, Cancer, Pisces, Scorpio, or Aquarius

channeled messages | wears glasses, new house/apartment, angel numbers, Fire and Water, phone calls/messages, divine masculine, bossy, temperamental, ball of energy, solitude, ambivert, free-thinker, innovative, rebellious, stubborn, music lover, protective, momma-bear, red, brown, or blond hair, muscular/lean built, tall, proposal, gift from the universe, and planning mode 

pile 3 | 🤍

[TW] For some, I don’t feel like you will be happy about finding out about your pregnancy. You may wish to terminate the pregnancy, maybe due to financial reasonings or life circumstances may be too difficult and stressful for you to handle. You will likely go back and forth on whether you want to continue or terminate your pregnancy. For others, you could have had a miscarriage(s) in the past and this made you believe that you would never be able to get pregnant or sustain a full term pregnancy, and as a result, you could have given up hope, until the universe blessed you with this new miracle. Some of you could’ve had health issues that prevented you from getting pregnant, but by you changing your lifestyle and trusting in the divine, you will be able to have your miracle baby. You may find out that you are pregnant during a new moon.

You and your person may be separated or you could be separated by distance when they find out that you are expecting. This person will be extremely happy and excited about the news of your pregnancy. If this was a breakup/separation, your person will want to fix and heal the relationship to provide a loving and supportive environment for the child. If you two are separated by distance, you and this person will be reunited after a period of separation. They might travel back home right away to celebrate the news with you after a period of strife and struggles. 

Your family will also be happy about the news. They feel like you will be an amazing mother. They will be very supportive of you during your pregnancy. This may be a maternal figure that will be most excited about the news. So be prepared for lots of tears of joy. Your family will also want you and your person to reconcile to provide your child with a strong family unit.

You will be very protective of your baby during your pregnancy. You will be very conscious of everything that goes on around you. You will be very conscious of your health, making sure that you are healthy to sustain your pregnancy. You will be protecting your peace & well-being, as well as the well-being of your unborn child. You will be so in love with your child and you will do anything and everything to keep them protected and always surrounded in/by love. Your child will be very active, so they will move around a lot during your pregnancy. You will try your best to ensure that your pregnancy journey goes smoothly and peacefully.

Your baby will be so beautiful/handsome. They will also be very lucky and highly blessed by the universe, but they may still go through some ups and downs in life, but they will always manage to come back more resilient and wise every time. Your child will be very powerful and they may have strong psychic & intuitive abilities that were bestowed to them by the universe. They were meant to come into this life to heal generational trauma or karmic debts in this lifetime. They are meant to heal themselves & the collective in some way, so they could be natural-born healers. They will be highly protected and guided by the universe. They will be very creative and imaginative, so they will daydream a lot or always seem like they have their head in the clouds. Your child will love to dress up or play pretend/ they may even have an imaginary friend that they interact with and play with when they are lonely or bored. Your child may be misunderstood by others because they may feel like they’re different from their peers, so they will spend most their time building and creating their own fantasy to live in and explore because they feel so disconnected from the physical world. Your child will likely be shy and quiet for the most part. They are very sensitive to other people’s energy and they will need time alone throughout their life to recharge their energy. As your child matures, they will be very successful and confident in themselves. They will have the power to change and transform their own life and the lives of others. Your baby might be a Sagittarius, Scorpio, Taurus, Pisces, or have 12th house placements in their chart.

channeled messages | 444, 777, 666, Mexico, scholarships, struggles, medicine woman/man, financially secured, emotional unavailability, fashionista, 12th house, big decisions third eye, solar plexus, November, rewards and gifts from the universe, likes to sleep, rainbow baby, wanderer, new moon, and astral travel.

[crepesuzette2023]

Hi, lovely Crepesuzette! Thanks a lot of your inspiring blog, your fics and always helpfull #fic recs! And can I ask any recs for good fics where John in the end understend the shit he did for Paul? All of this HDYS, Melody Maker, Rolling Stone etc, which not only hurted Paul but they ruined his self-esteem and creative reputation, you know. Thanks again! Love you and want you be happy everyday like you do it for me :)

Hello there, thank you for the ask—and for your kind words. Very welcome, esp. since real life has been low grade shit these past few days.

So...your ask make me think of stories where things are not only better than they were in this (clears throat) reality as we know it: there's also a focus on mutual understanding, peace-making, forgiveness. Yes?

These came to my mind...and making this list made me realize I'm really in the mood to re-read some of them! In the 70's:

stuck inside these four walls (@monkberries). Lost Weekend. John and Paul get locked up until they resolve their shit.

i can only speak my mind (@revollver). 70's. Paul reads John's 'secret' diaries that have been leaked to the press, and understands him—and himself—better.

forth and back (@monkberries). 70's—80's. Paul and John talk through songs.

A Toot and a Snore (@glowing-gold). Lost Weekend in LA. That jam session is on the page in real time, as is their slow and hot reconciliation. Will never forget the description of moustache-Paul and his nipples, *fans self*

They Say it's Your Birthday (@ohjohnnysblog). 1979. A personal favorite. Warm, nostalgic phone sex in the spirit of peace and friendship.

Down on the Farm (RosalindBeatrice), 1974. John is exposed to Wings, Paul's family, and Paul's hotness, and realizes it's all meant to lure him back...

You Will, You Will, You Will (@eveepe). John and Paul and Linda take the plunge. Excellent tension...over the phone and in person.

February in New Orleans (@eveepe). 1975. John and May visit Paul and Linda in New Orleans. Resentment is desire's favorite costume. Everyone has a good time, 2/4 have a hard-on (I am sorry).

Adventures in Total Honesty (@merseydreams). 1975. Paul and John meet backstage, and have it out. A+ banter, and so many things I wish Paul had said. Also: sex.

The lights go down (they're back in town) (@backbenttulips). 1977. Paul and John are trapped in an elevator at the Dakota. The power goes out. John comes back to live.

Something Borrowed Something New (@inspiteallthedanger). 1979. The former Beatles meet at Pattie & Eric's wedding. Paul and John face some truths.

six hours in august (@stonedlennon). 1979. A chance meeting in NYC. The love is still there.

I Still Miss Someone/ I Know That I Miss you, but I Don't Know Where I Stand/ Close the Door Lightly When You Go (RosalindBeatrice). 1976-1979. Paul and John become lovers, but their lives have changed. John feels guilty about the past, Paul has a family...Mutual empathy is needed, and accordingly grows. But it doesn't come easy.

1980 and Onwards:

The Birthday Party (@merseydreams). John and Paul meet at Ringo's Birthday Party. Paul has had therapy, and John wears denim shorts. There is only one bed.

Free Man in Paris (@backbenttulips). John and Paul get married in Paris in '61, and get a divorce seven years later. But it's not the end.

Memory Lane (@ohjohnnysblog). Old, married John and Paul leaf through a photo album and reminisce about the past, including past lovers.

and when broken bodies are washed ashore (who am i to ask for more) (wardo_wedidit): John and Paul. Now and Then.

Bermuda (@scurator): John and Paul are grown-ups and know what they want (each other, to start with).

Take A Sad Song and Make it Better (@javelinbk). 1980. John visits Paul in 1980, and they revisit the past, including their love. But their families don't magically disappear. Also by @javelinbk: Our Version of Events (Part 1, Part 2 (in progress)). 1971. Reading fan fiction helps John and Paul realize what's happening, and what's been happening in the past.

Going Nowhere (@inspiteallthedanger). 1980; John survives the shooting and returns to England. I think of this one as 'they talk about it' fic.

Comprehensive Fix-Its:

The Contract (JP). The story of John and Paul, with a happier (though bizarre) ending, and a lot of sex (good).

i was a younger man then (now) (post hoc) (@fingersfallingupwards). The story of John and Paul à la The Time Traveller's Wife. It takes them a long time—but in the end they do understand and forgive each other.

[weirdkpopgirl]

Sick | Dream Reaction #10

Reaction: When their gf is sick

Genre: Mostly Fluff

Warnings: mentions of throwing up, and pregnancy scare (nothing serious though)

Word Count: 2694k

Author's Note: I've seen other people write these types of scenarios before, so I wanted to try it out myself. My lovely friend helped me come up with ideas for this because I am not as creative as I'd like to be. Thank you for reading ^ ^

~ ~ ~

MARK

He finished his schedule earlier than expected today and decided to pay a visit to his lovely girlfriend. After being especially busy this week, Mark longed to be in your arms. He entered your apartment quietly and noticed the dim light coming from your bedroom.

That’s how he found you sitting at your desk, studying your life away. But he couldn’t help but be worried when he noticed you shivering.

“Baby,” Mark called out.

He watched as you lifted your head from the laptop in front of you, a hint of surprise flickering across your face. You had been so engrossed in your studies that you hadn't even heard him enter the room.

“Mark? When did you get here?”

“Baby, are you okay?”  He placed his hand on your shoulder.

The evident worry in his expression immediately made you feel guilty.

“I’m fine, I just have a little cold,” you tried to brush him off.

Not believing you, Mark confirmed his concerns when he softly brushed his fingers against your blazing forehead.

“Baby, you are everything but fine. You need to rest," he insisted.

You hesitated and glanced back at your computer anxiously. This was an important essay that you’ve been working on throughout the week, and you were so close to being done with it. 

“Okay, let me just finish this paragraph,” you mumbled, despite how awful you felt at that moment. Your head was hammering from the lack of sleep you’d been getting, and your eyes were strained from staring at the laptop screen for hours.

Mark’s eyes narrowed in determination, as he realized that he had to step in and take charge. He knew your tendency to overwork yourself when it came to your studies. But he wasn’t going to sit idly by and watch you neglect yourself.

“Nope. You’re taking a break right now,” He ordered, decisively closing your laptop. 

He then scooped you up from the chair, catching you off guard.

“Babyyy,” you groaned in frustration. “I’m really fine!”

“No, you are not,” Mark said affirmatively, carrying you to your bed. 

He tenderly tucked you in under the blankets, ensuring you were comfortable, before laying down beside you. Placing a hand on your flushed cheek, Mark looked into your eyes with an abundance of love.

“I know how much you care about your grades,” he whispered softly. “But your health is more important, babe.”

You frowned as all the things you had to get done lingered in your mind. But you were secretly grateful for Mark getting you to lie down, knowing that you needed this. Sighing, you nestled your head in the crook of his neck. 

“Well thank goodness I have you with me,” you murmured.

Mark smiled and gently stroked your hair as you drifted off to sleep in his protective embrace. Usually, you were the one scolding him about overworking and coaxing him to rest. The gentle rise and fall of your breath against his chest filled him with a profound sense of contentment. At that moment, Mark cherished the opportunity to be the caretaker, relishing the chance to give you love and care.

✎__________________________________________________________

RENJUN

The previous day, you had walked through the rain on your way home from work, after missing the bus. Consequently, the next day you were greeted with a pounding headache and persistent chills throughout your body.

Renjun wasted no time rushing to your place as soon as he found out you had gotten sick. His heart sank at the sight of your pale face, a stark contrast against your damp hair, clinging to your forehead from beads of sweat.

“I told you it was going to rain last night, love,” he scolded lightly.

You blew your nose and sighed sadly. “I know, I just forgot.”

He gently guided you into the bathroom, urging you to take a hot shower. While you did so, he busied himself preparing a few essentials to make you feel better.

Emerging from the bathroom, you found him waiting in the living room with a warm cup of citrus tea. “Here, drink this,” he offered, placing the cup into your hands. The warmth of the tea radiated through your fingers, instantly providing a sense of comfort and care.

You silently savored the warmth of the beverage, allowing its soothing effects to wash over you, while Renjun attentively dried your damp hair with a hair dryer. Though his gestures were simple, you were left feeling overwhelmed by a newfound sense of care. It was a feeling you weren’t accustomed to, and your heart swelled with a deep appreciation for the boy.

“Thank you for looking after me,” you expressed gratefully, a hint of guilt lacing your words. “I’m sorry you had to go through all this trouble on your day off.”

Renjun smiled and leaned over to place a kiss on your temple. “Don’t worry about it, darling. Taking care of you is always my priority.”

✎__________________________________________________________

JENO

Without hesitation, this boy would jump into action the minute he learned you had gotten the flu. Ignoring any of your protests, he would search for the coziest blanket to wrap around you. Jeno would go above and beyond to make sure you were resting and give you his undivided attention. If you tried to get up for something, he’d immediately bring you back to the couch and ensure that need was met.

He knew you didn’t have the greatest appetite when you were under the weather, but he still made sure you ate at least something. As the two of you sat in the living room, he took it upon himself to feed you this anchovy broth soup he ordered through delivery.

“Jeno-ssi, I can feed myself,” you half-whined. “I’m not a baby.”

A beam of affection spread across Jeno’s face as he admired the subtle pout on your lips. It always amazed him how effortlessly endearing you looked, even though it was unintentional.

Undeterred, he persisted in feeding you himself. “Hush,” he softly insisted.

You gave him a look as he held up the spoon to your lips once more. With a defeated sigh, you obediently opened your mouth, allowing him to feed you another spoonful.

“Good girl,” He praised. “Now just two more bites?”

After you finished eating, the remainder of the day was spent cuddling on the sofa. Even though you felt pretty awful right now, it was nice to be held lovingly in your boyfriend’s arms. It was moments like these that made you realize how lucky you were to have someone like Lee Jeno in your life.

✎__________________________________________________________

HAECHAN

Despite feeling under the weather, you mustered up the strength to text Haechan not to come over today. To which he messaged back with an “okay.” However, after some consideration, the boy decided to disregard your request. Clutching his hoodie and slipping into a pair of sneakers, he waddled his way to your apartment.

Fifteen minutes later, Haechan arrived at your place, eagerly jumping into bed beside you. Your eyes fluttered open, still hazy from sleep, as you felt a pair of arms encircle your waist.

“Haechan,” you managed to cough out. “I thought I told you to stay at your dorm.”

“I’m not Haechan. I’m Pororo, the little penguin,” he replied, his slightly muffled against your shirt. 

You leveled your boyfriend with an unamused look. “Hyuck, you’re going to catch my cold if you stay here.”

Haechan’s determination remained unwavering as he pulled you closer, refusing to let go.

“But I want cuddles,” he persisted, playfully. “Besides, the reason you got sick is because of how long you’ve gone without my kisses. Your energy is depleted.”

“I don’t think that’s how it works, babe.” 

However, your protests were momentarily forgotten when Haechan locked you in his embrace and left dozens of kisses all over your face. A part of you knew you should push him away. But you were too tired to argue, so you gave in. Secretly, though you would never admit it to Haechan directly, his shower of affection lifted your mood, and made the symptoms of your cold a little more bearable.

Just as you predicted, Haechan was sick in bed the next week, battling the same cold. You let out a sigh of mixed exasperation and concern as you checked Haechan's temperature, shaking your head in mild disapproval.

"I warned you," you scolded lightly.

Despite his resistance, you couldn't help but take care of him anyway, nurturing him back to health with the same love and care he had shown you because that’s how things worked in your relationship.

✎__________________________________________________________

JAEMIN

For as long as you could remember, you’ve always had a sensitive stomach. Whether it was not drinking enough water, skipping meals, or eating something weird, you’ve grappled with this inconvenience all your life.

One day, you found yourself seated in class next to your boyfriend Jaemin, a persistent stomach ache gnawing at you since the morning. Initially, you had hoped the minor pain would simply fade away if you ignored it. But as the minutes ticked by, your discomfort intensified, forming knots that twisted your insides. Releasing a shaky exhale, you made an effort to concentrate on the professor’s lecture through diligent note-taking. Unfortunately, your body didn’t seem to be giving you a break today.

Being the observant boyfriend he was, Jaemin couldn’t help but notice the pallor that had crept onto your face. Concern sparkled within him, and he leaned in closer to place a comforting hand over yours.

“(Y/n),” he whispered, his eyes filled with genuine worry. “Are you feeling alright?”

You gave him a faint nod. “I–I’m fine, Jaemin. Don’t worry.”

Jaemin had a feeling you were downplaying your distress. But he decided to leave it alone for now and silently resolved to keep an eye on you. Fortunately, the class concluded shortly after, offering a sense of relief.

Eager to leave the lecture hall, you gathered your belongings at a hurried pace. However, as soon as you rose from your seat, a sudden wave of dizziness washed over you, causing the room to spin in disorienting circles.

“Jagiya!” Jaemin’s voice rang out. 

In that critical moment, when you started to lose your balance, Jaemin caught you in his arms before you could fall. He carefully led you outside to sit down on a bench.

“Is your stomach bothering you again?” he asked.

You nodded glumly in response, causing him to sigh. “You should’ve told me earlier, (Y/n).”

“It’s so embarrassing. I didn’t want to just leave in the middle of class,” you admitted quietly.

Jaemin frowned as he witnessed you taking another shallow breath. He leaned down to place his chin on your shoulder and began to gently massage your stomach, hoping to alleviate some of the pain.

“Hey, little monster, please stop hurting my (Y/n),” he scolded affectionately. “You’re being a little annoying right now and I don’t appreciate it.”

You shot the boy with a bemused look. “What are you doing?”

“Begging the monster,” Jaemin said with an innocent smile. 

You chuckled as you shook your head at his silly gesture. Something you loved about Jaemin was his odd yet endearing ways of making you feel better. He was truly a sweetheart.

✎__________________________________________________________

CHENLE

The other day, you and Chenle tried this new restaurant. And unfortunately, you ended up getting food poisoning. Chenle was genuinely worried because he’s never seen your face look so pale. Watching you suffer bouts of nausea made him feel bad because he couldn’t do much to make it go away.

He did his best to stay by your side and hold your hair back when you were throwing up in the toilet. Though his actions were kind, you couldn’t help but be mortified that your boyfriend had to see you in such a gross state.

“Don’t be embarrassed, baby,” he cooed, as he rubbed your back in soothing circles. “It happens to everyone. You’re not alone in this.”

You half expected him to tease you, so you were surprised to hear him speak so reassuringly. Nonetheless, you appreciated his understanding of words. He helped you rise to your feet so you could wash up and rinse your mouth from the taste of vomit.

While you stayed in bed, Chenle called his members to cancel his prior engagements with them because “his baby was sick.” You overheard him on the phone and felt bad for disrupting his plans. Although you still felt a bit nauseous, you forced yourself out of bed to find him.

Just as he ended the phone call, you came up from behind and wrapped your arms around him in a grateful embrace. A smile stretched on Chenle’s lips as he felt his heart beating faster from such a simple gesture.

“What are you doing up, (Y/n)-ah?” he teased, raising an eyebrow. 

Exhaling, you instinctively squeezed him a little tighter. “Thank you for being here with me,” you whispered.

You were never great with words or physical affection with Chenle. But you couldn’t lose this opportunity to show him your sincerity and gratitude. 

Chenle chuckled softly and patted your hands. “Alright, back to bed you go.”

He then proceeded to sweep you off your feet and bring you back to the bedroom. This time, Chenle joined you in lying down in the comforts of your bed. Your legs intertwined beneath the cozy sheets, finding a comfortable and intimate tangle, while Chenle ensured that you were cradled securely within the embrace of his arms.

In the tranquil stillness of the room, the two of you would remain in that comforting position. The gentle melody of Chenle's soft singing served as a soothing lullaby, creating a peaceful ambiance. As the night progressed, fatigue would gradually claim both of you, with your bodies entwined and hearts connected. Your bond most definitely strengthened after this night.

✎__________________________________________________________

JISUNG

For the past week, you’ve been feeling utterly miserable. Jisung genuinely panicked when he came over one day to the sight of you confined to your bed, enduring a seemingly never-ending cycle of nausea and vomiting. While you were sure this was just some stomach bug that would eventually disappear, Jisung seemed to think otherwise.

“(Y/n), what if you’re pregnant?” He asked worriedly, as he handed you a glass of water.

Your eyes widened in bewilderment at his question, and a light shade of red rose to your cheeks. You didn’t even understand how he came to that conclusion.

“Park Jisung, we haven’t even done anything for that to happen!”

Jisung’s brows furrowed in uncertainty. “Are you sure? One of the hyungs told me that eating watermelon seeds could make you pregnant. And you had watermelon not too long ago.”

Listening to his incredulous explanation caused you to mentally face-palm at your boyfriend’s innocent misunderstanding. Of course, his members didn’t miss the chance to tease the boy.

“Jisung, dear,” you began with a gentle smile, “That’s not how getting pregnant works.”

You tried to suppress a giggle as Jisung’s expression turned into one of bafflement.

“What?!” he exclaimed, clearly perplexed by the whole situation. Amid your splitting headache, you had to sit the boy down to clarify this misinformation.

Fast forward to the Dream dorm, where the members sat down for a family meeting. Mark’s eyes scanned the room, searching for the culprit who decided to mess with their maknae.

“Alright, who was it?”

Just as the question hung in the air, Haechan decided this was a good time to leave the room. However, his attempt to escape didn’t go unnoticed by the others, and all eyes turned to him.

“Seriously, Haechan?” Renjun groaned in exasperation. “You’re always know how to stir up trouble, don’t you?”

Haechan raised his hands up in defense. “Hey, how was I supposed to know he’d be dumb enough to believe me?”

You couldn't help but shake your head when you learned that Haechan was behind this. But deep down, you weren't surprised at all. You honestly wanted to playfully throttle him for putting you in the position of explaining how babies were conceived to your boyfriend.

✎__________________________________________________________

[changbunnies]

White Lines and Red Lights (18+)

♡ Pairing: Han Jisung x fem!Reader 

♡ Genre: college au, idiots in love (they are so oblivious), best friends to lovers, mutual pining, basically pure fluff, a smidge of angst? (it's barely there, mostly due to perceived one-sided pining that is in reality not at all one-sided lmao)

♡ Word Count: 13.4k (i may have gotten carried away)

♡ Summary: The spring semester is over, and summer break is sure to be full of fun and good memories for Y/N and her best friend, Jisung. The only problem being, they are both hopelessly in love with each other, and completely oblivious to how the other one feels.

♡ Warnings: reader's major isn't specified but is implied to be creative, jisung's major is also not specified but is in music, alcohol consumption, mentions of food and eating, many uses of the word "fuck" lol, lmk if i missed anything you think should be listed here !

♡ Smut Warnings (contains spoilers): slightly inexperienced sex (neither reader or jisung are virgins, but they don't have tons of experience either), lighthearted but also romantic sex?, petnames (baby), a lot of kissing. like so much kissing, nipple play, handjob, oral (m rec), fingering (f receiving), multiple orgasms, unprotected piv, creampie (reader is on birth control)

♡ Notes: this was written for the @skzwritingcafe prompt "summertime confessions" ! i hope you like it and as usual, if you’re interested you can check out my fic rec and feedback blog @stray-dreams

♡ Disclaimer: please read responsibly, and remember that this work is fiction and meant strictly for imaginative fun. the idols used in fics are more accurately faceclaims and personality outlines for imaginary characters, and should not be interpreted as factual representations of existing people.

Hell is finally over! That’s what you’ve been happily telling yourself since 2:30 p.m, when the last of your final exams were complete and all assignment deadlines were met.

Did you reach the end of all your trials and tribulations with a passing grade? That you weren’t entirely sure of, but the instant relief when the clock met the fated hour expelled any worries instantly from your mind. It’s a problem for future you, your brain decided, because now there was room for one thing and one thing only: fun!

You were beyond ready to turn your brain off, to indulge in some much needed fun to clear the fog in your head, and to then settle into comfort and relaxation. You hadn’t had a moment of joy or peace in weeks, and you were most definitely due for it; the thin line that was your sanity could only handle so much more stress before it snapped. 

And that’s what you’ve spent the last hour getting ready for– an end of semester celebration with friends, a small reward after the grueling study efforts intended to revitalize those that turned into zombies over the course of finals week.

Parties aren’t typically your thing, being much too loud and chaotic for your tastes, but how could you say no when said party was being held by your best friend and his 2 roommates? And after the literal hell you endured during the last semester, and especially during this last week, you needed a night with your friends more than you needed oxygen. 

“You’re here!” Chan greets you with a smile after he opens the door, happy to see you after weeks of being stuck in the confines of your bedroom, having turned into an effective study machine.

“Hi Channie,” you return his smile as you step fully inside, giving him a quick hug after the door shuts behind you. “Where’s Jisung?” you waste no time in asking, eager to see the person you cared about most (no offense intended to your other friends.)

It felt awful not having time to see him the last few weeks; the only thing that gave you comfort during that time was knowing that he was equally as busy meeting assignment deadlines and studying for his finals as you were.

You wished you could’ve studied together, like you did when you were kids, but different majors meant there wasn’t as much crossover in what you were learning as there once was. But still, you took solace in knowing you weren’t alone during the struggle; at least, metaphorically you weren’t. 

Chan points you to the kitchen, and you thank him before you make the short walk there, a bounce in your step as happiness settles over you for the first time in what feels like ages. It doesn’t take you long to spot him, standing near the counter with his other roommate Changbin, as well as with a handful of other friends he’s made in his major.

“Sungie, I missed you!” you call as you jump him for a hug, which very nearly knocks him over. He yells out in surprise, just barely managing to keep his hand steady to save his drink as he shifts his weight to maintain his balance, stabilizing himself on his heel.

“Y/N!” Jisung yelps when your arms squeeze him tightly, and he lets Changbin take his drink from his hand to safely secure it elsewhere. He returns your hug as soon as he’s able, and you close your eyes before you smile at him, already feeling your drained battery recharging.

“Jeez, I know you missed me, but warn me next time! You almost gave me a heart attack,” Jisung mumbles his complaint in your ear, but you can tell by the smile he has on his face and squeeze in his arms that he’s missed you just as much, this hug being as healing for him as it is for you. 

However, he meant it when he said you almost gave him a heart attack, though it’s not for the reasons you might think. First: it’s true he was totally unprepared for you to launch at him with the intent to squeeze him into a hug, but that wasn’t the problem.

The real problem was that you looked so pretty, and after weeks without seeing your face, his heart was left with no defense against your charms. He’d been reset to zero, it seemed– his built up resistance and tolerance reduced to nothing.

And that went hand in hand with the second problem: his heart was beating out of control! You’re holding him so tightly, smiling at him so brightly, eyes sparkling under the fluorescence of the mundane kitchen light. He didn’t understand how something as small and trivial as the lighting in the room seemed to add to your appeal, but it did. 

Jisung steals a glance at his roommates, who are looking with a knowing smile that makes him want to sink into himself and hide. Why is this so embarrassing? You however seem as oblivious to how he feels about you as ever, much to his relief. His impossibly large crush on you will assuredly be getting in the way tonight, but he can definitely play it off, right? …right? 

Jisung ended up not drinking for the rest of the night, much too afraid of how flippant his mouth would become if he had too much alcohol in his system– the last thing he needed was to do something as cliche and embarrassing as drunkenly confessing all his feelings to his best friend. Though, even without the drink in his system, this night was killing him.

Why did you have to smile at him so prettily while pulling him to dance with you? Why did you have to giggle at him so sweetly when he made a joke? And why did you have to lean so close every time you spoke to him?

He cursed his past self for deciding to play the music so loudly, because the close proximity and feeling your breath against his ear every time you wanted to tell him something was making his heart feel like it was going to explode. 

You were wearing the perfume that he once accidentally let slip was his favorite of yours. He couldn’t remember the exact name of it, but the sweet, citrusy smell filled his nostrils and reminded him of all the times in the past he was close enough to you to inhale it.

Tight hugs, cuddling on his sofa on the weekends, laying in your bed watching anime until it was time for him to go home– all memories he cherished, because they were spent with you. And the moment he unintentionally admitted how much he loved the smell of your perfume, it seemed like you were always wearing it, and it drove him crazy.

It lingered on everything– or maybe he just found it easy to recognize given how attuned to you he was; and now with the distance you’d had, and how much he’d missed you the last few weeks, it was like your perfume was taking over his senses.

Jisung almost couldn’t think straight– it was like he was drunk, but on something entirely different from everyone else inside his apartment. To calm himself down, and reset his senses, he stepped out on the balcony for some time, willing his heart to calm by using the fresh air as a conduit. 

By the time Jisung enters the apartment again following his latest balcony outing, most of his friends have gone home with their respective designated drivers, with Chan offering to call the stragglers an uber or a spot to crash somewhere in the apartment. Chan was always like that during parties– the self appointed dad of sorts, always making sure everyone was well taken care of.

He looks past his friends to see you alone on the sofa, chugging a water bottle that he assumes Chan gave to you. “Trying to sober up?” Jisung asks as he takes a seat next to you, and you nod, making an affirming noise as you continue to take large sips from the bottle.

“Gotta stay hydrated too if I don’t want to feel all this tomorrow,” you finally respond when you’ve swallowed down the last of the water, though you're sure you didn’t drink enough alcohol to get a hangover. Your legs will likely be killing you more than anything, given all the dancing and jumping around you did. 

“Right, wouldn’t want you to end up like Changbin,” Jisung replies and you laugh as you recall the memory of a very intoxicated Changbin, who had way too much to drink in a short span of time but insisted he wasn't drunk.

He was incredibly affectionate, coming up to everyone to squeeze them into hugs and tell them he loves them, and dancing to girl group songs with so much passion that you’d think he was in some sort of idol audition. 

Changbin passed out first, to no one's surprise, and he had to be carried to his bed by an exasperated Chan while you and Jisung giggled to yourselves at the display, deciding you would both definitely be teasing him about it tomorrow.

“I’ve never seen him like that– he was still himself but like. Times a million,” you laugh, thinking about when a newjeans song came on and it made him effectively lose his mind. “Oh it’s late,” you say absentmindedly after some time spent talking passes, checking your phone for the first time all night.

Jisung peeks over, eyes widening when he sees the “02:37” displayed brightly on your screen. It was the latest he’d (voluntarily) stayed up in months; where did the time even go? “Guess we should sleep, huh? I can give you my bed, I’ll sleep here so–” 

“No way, we’ve talked about this before! I don’t wanna kick you out of your own room– just share your bed with me,” you said, almost sternly. It was true– you both had countless sleepovers over the course of your friendship, both planned and accidental, and every time he offered to sleep on the sofa, you vehemently refused.

However, those times you weren’t inebriated, and this time you definitely were (even if it was only mildly.) And besides that, with how weak he’s been over you all night, he’s not sure if his heart will even let him fall asleep if you’re next to him. 

“I-I mean– are you sure? You’ve been drinking so.. I dunno, I just like– didn't want it to be weird, I guess?” Jisung stumbles over his words way more than he wishes, and the way you giggle at him makes him want to crawl into a hole and never come out. Way to play it cool, Jisung! If you weren’t being obvious about your feelings before, you definitely are now, idiot!

“C’mon Ji, you know I trust you with like, my entire life. It won’t be weird,” you answer with a smile meant to assure him, but all it does is make his heart pound even harder. It’s unfair how effortlessly flustered you make him.

“As long as you’re sure then– yeah, let’s go to bed,” he says as he helps you to your feet, and while you definitely didn’t drink enough for your legs to be unstable, you appreciate the sweet gesture. 

The minute you’re in his room, you flop right in the middle of his bed, a large sigh leaving you– you didn’t realize how actually exhausted you are until now. “Don’t fall asleep like that please, I don’t wanna sleep on the couch now that you’ve promised I can have my bed,” Jisung says as he walks over to his dresser, and you laugh in response.

“I won’t, promise!” You sit up quickly, wrapping yourself up in his comforter as you do– you won’t fall asleep, but you can at least still be cozy.

“You really should’ve brought a change of clothes if you were going to crash here,” Jisung jokingly complains you as he scrounges through his drawers for something that will fit you comfortably (and that he won’t mind parting with, because he knows he won’t be getting back whatever he gives you; which would be fine if it didn’t fill his head with thoughts about you being his girlfriend.) 

“Not my fault! It’s yours for creating the atmosphere,” you argue, arms folding over your chest in a rather mild display of opposition. “What atmosphere?” he laughs as he finally settles on one of his oversized shirts and tosses it over to you.

Comfortable. Secure. Safe. Happy. Loved. Cared for. You could only let loose so much because you were with him, could only have such a good time because he was there doing it with you. “..Fun,” you finally answer, clutching the shirt he gave you in your hands, deciding not to say anything further than that.

Better to avoid that line of thought while you’re recovering from being tipsy, you think– it’d be bad if you suddenly made an admission you weren’t ready to. An accidental confession at this point would risk ruining an otherwise perfect night with your friends.

It doesn’t take long for Jisung to find what he wants to wear to bed, and he leaves the room to allow the two of you to change separately. You put your prior outfit on top of his dresser before returning to his bed, settling underneath the blankets as you wait for him to come back.

You’re lying there for only a few minutes when he returns, turning off the light and carefully crawling in next to you, and finally settling in with his back pressed against yours. You both whisper quiet “good nights” to each other, willing your equally fast hearts to calm enough to sleep.

This isn’t the first time you’ve shared a bed with Jisung, and during the early years of your childhood friendship it never made your heart race the way it does now. You’d usually say something along the lines of “what’s wrong with best friends sharing a bed?”, the act always completely innocent.

You needed to sleep, and you didn’t want Jisung to sacrifice his bed when you could easily share it– it was always as simple as that. But in recent months, you’ve noticed that it stopped being simple; with your back pressed to his, the sound of his gentle breathing behind you, you realized it had started to make your heart race unbelievably fast.

You had begun to notice that same sensation in other moments too– like when he smiled at you after you helped him decide on a concept for one of his assignments, or when he’d call you after a hard day just to hear your voice, with his reason being that “talking to you makes me feel better!” 

It was the same for you, of course. Talking to him always made you feel better, a single smile enough to lift the heavy weight off your heart. He always listened, he always cared, and he was always there for you. That’s another reason these last few weeks were so hard for you; you didn’t have Jisung’s support, and not because of any fault of either of you, but because adult life and responsibilities got in the way. 

You wanted to make time for him, and you knew he wanted to as well; you still texted each other often, facetimed during the moments you allowed yourselves to rest, and it helped immensely, but also resolidified something you’d thought once before; that without Jisung, your life is impossibly dark. And that without his support, you weren’t sure how you’d get through the difficulty that life brings you. 

You sigh and roll over, looking straight at Jisung’s back. You came today to escape grim thoughts, stress, and self doubt, hoping that fun with your friends would shove them all away, but it seems they’ve found their way back to you regardless. It was bound to happen, you suppose, but you hoped they wouldn’t be back for a while at least. But, if there’s any solace to be had, you have Jisung next to you, and he always comforts you even with just his presence alone. 

You roll over a lot in your sleep, so when you first do it, Jisung doesn’t react. He figures you’ve just fallen asleep quickly after all the drinking and dancing, and now he can finally truly relax and begin to fall asleep himself.

He’s always tense at first, the close proximity making him nervous and unable to sleep, even if you aren’t face to face– because even though you’re his best friend, it’s an undeniable fact that you’re also a girl. A pretty girl at that, one that he’s silently been crushing on for years.

So when he hears your voice call to him, it’s unexpected, and it makes his heart pick back up in speed as his body tenses once again. “Ji, can you turn around?” you ask, and he freezes a moment, wondering if the remnants of alcohol in your system is what is causing you to ask something so bold. 

But no, you’re nowhere near drunk, and he’s probably the only one on earth who thinks the prospect of turning around to face his best friend during a sleepover is “bold.” This is an ordinary request, and it’s not your fault that he finds the action so nerve wracking.

He really needs to get over it so he can go back to being normal around you. “S-Sure,” you hear him stutter quietly, carefully turning to face you. Even in the relative darkness, he can see your features clearly enough to make his breath uneven.

Your pretty eyes, your cute nose, your lips that look so soft and kissable and– “Fuck, stop thinking about it. Get it together, Han Jisung,” he internally scolds himself. He hopes that you can’t hear the sound of his heart beating, or see the blush forming on his cheeks as he stares at you. 

“Can I ask you something?” your voice is quiet, almost a whisper. He can tell you’re serious, and he has no idea what you intend to ask, but the possibilities are sending him reeling. Did he stare at you too much today? Did you notice the way his face reddened every time you smiled at him? You were just so pretty that he couldn’t help it and– 

Were you going to ask him if he had feelings for you? Were you? Should he be honest if you do? Admit that he’s thought you were pretty for the longest time, has wanted you to look at him romantically for years, had wondered what your lips would feel like on his? God, he really needs his heart and mind to calm down, or he’ll never survive the rest of the night. 

“Do you ever wonder.. If you’re doing the right thing?” your question finally breaks him from his whirring thoughts, your voice still quiet and with an unsure hesitance to it.

Jisung’s expression immediately changes to one of care and concern, a bit taken aback by your question but entirely ready to listen to you talk about whatever is on your mind now that he can think clearly. “What do you mean?” 

“Like.. with college, I guess. Do you ever think maybe you should be doing something different?” You look him directly in the eyes as you ask, clearly searching for some sort of comfort, an answer that will help you come to terms with whatever complicated emotion you’re dealing with.

“Yeah, sometimes. I mean, I love music, but I’m not guaranteed to go far with it even if I’m good at it. I know that sometimes passion and talent aren’t enough. The people who succeed are usually lucky,” he answers honestly; he’s not sure if that’s what you want to hear, but he knows you value his insight and opinions, even when they differ from yours.

“What makes you keep going then?” You had such a hard time this last semester, and there were more than a few times where you reached a low point and wanted to quit. You were lonely, exhausted, broke, creativity entirely spent.. You questioned whether all that hardship was worth it, and if you’d be better off pursuing something more practical and mundane.

“Well.. It makes me happy. And I know that even if things don’t turn out how I wished, I think it would be more regrettable if I didn’t try, you know? Even when it’s really hard it’s also rewarding, and every day I learn so many things I would’ve never learned alone in my room, or at least, it would’ve taken me forever to get there by myself. I made a lot of new friends too, I have you and other good people to support me, and–”

You nod along to his words, taking them in and humming every once in a while to let him know you're still listening. He’s talking a lot, but you don’t mind that. You’re happy to know what he thinks and feels, his voice is soothing, and you feel less alone knowing he understands you to at least some degree, and is willing to help you through your hardships. That’s all you really needed; for Jisung to hear you, and reply in the thoughtful way he always does.

“And you know I’ll always be there for you, right? If you ever feel like this again, just tell me. I’ll be right there, the minute you call I’ll–” Oh, wait. Your eyes are closed, breath slow and gentle, now completely unresponsive to his words.

You fell asleep while he was talking? How long was he going before he even realized you were no longer listening? His other friends are right- he really does talk way too much sometimes.

He observes you quietly for a moment, giggling to himself when he hears the soft snores leaving you as he takes in your serene expression. He also realizes that the sky has gotten brighter, the sound of birds chirping becoming more prominent with each passing moment. How had the night come and gone so quickly? 

That’s what always happens when he’s with you, though– time seems to accelerate, while at the same time feeling like it’s at a stand still. The happy moments pass in the blink of an eye, but simultaneously seems to freeze whenever he stares at you. When you smile and laugh with him, it makes his heart burst, your shining eyes always taking his breath away. 

Reaching his hand up carefully, he tucks the hair that has fallen over your face behind your ear, smiling to himself when you unconsciously lean into his light touch. It’s so cute, how even in your sleep you seem to recognize it’s him, indulging in the comfort he offers you. At least, that’s what you’ve told him once before– that one of the reasons you like having sleepovers with him is because his presence makes you feel safe and relaxed. 

He's not sure if you even remember saying it, but he was so happy when you told him, and even now it’s something on his mind every time you two share a bed. He just wishes he wasn’t always so tense and nervous whenever you laid next to him, and he wishes he had more courage to always lay face to face and talk like you did tonight. Maybe one day he can hold you closer, wrap his arms around you and let his head rest atop yours.

Maybe he’ll kiss you, too– your lips, your cheeks, your nose, your forehead, anywhere you’ll let him. He can picture the way you’ll giggle at him, how you’ll playfully push him away while complaining that it tickles, and how he’ll wrap his arms around you tighter to keep you trapped in his affection. And when it’s all over he’ll tell you he loves you and–

Wait. 

He loves you? 

Well, of course he does. You’re his best friend, so of course he loves you! Totally platonically, of course. The fact that he’s had a major crush on you for the past few years doesn’t matter. Nope. Not at all. Surely he’s not literally in love with you, right? Because you’re his best friend and falling in love with your best friend is not only the most cliche thing ever, but definitely a recipe for heartbreak. 

So he’s not in love with you– he can’t be. It’s just a simple crush! It doesn’t matter that he constantly thinks about kissing you, or holding your hand while walking together, or how it’d feel for you to lay your head against him while he holds you during movie night. It doesn’t matter that he envisions what going on dates with you would be like, or what life would be like if you moved in together, or what your body would look like bare underneath his, or–

Fuck, he’s so in denial. He’s definitely in love with you, hopelessly so. His cute, endearing best friend, who he can’t seem to ever get out of his head. Do you ever think about him the way he thinks about you? Are you always on his mind, lingering in every thought the way you are for him? He desperately wants to know, but there’s a part of him that is afraid to find out, because what will he do if you don’t feel the same way? 

He forces himself to roll back over and close his eyes, because if he doesn’t stop looking at you, he’s never going to be able to stop thinking about it long enough to get some sleep. But even with his back now turned to you, hearing your soft breathing and feeling the dip in his bed from your presence is enough to plague his thoughts and keep the sleep he desperately needs out of reach for what little remains of the night. 

It’s been a few weeks since the night that Jisung finally admitted to himself that he’s in love with you, and whoever said being honest with yourself makes things better has definitely never been in love with their best friend, because actually what the fuck. This is the closest to hell he’s ever been, he thinks. Because he can’t seem to go a single moment without thinking about wanting to be romantic with you, and it’s driving him crazy. 

Holding your hand and cuddling during movie night, staying up all night on the phone talking about anything and everything, giving you sweet kisses after he tells you how much he loves you– he’s begging his brain to let him think about literally anything else, but it simply refuses. And now, sitting in his car together at a red light, is another such time where wanting to kiss you encompasses all his thoughts. 

You had spent time together almost every day since the night of the party now that your schedules were free, but all those times included the additions of your roommates or his. It’s only now, after a day spent at the beach, that the two of you are alone together again (thanks to the combined, scheming efforts of your mutual friends.) 

Chan loves the beach, and he goes whenever he can, but today he didn’t want to hangout there alone. He invited you, as well as his roomies and other friends, to come meet him there. And of course, you said yes, and of course, you had the most breathtaking swimsuit on underneath your clothes.

It was almost embarrassing, the way it stole Jisung’s breath away and made his cheeks burn red. He prayed he could blame it on the harsh sun, but there’d be no fooling Changbin, who was snickering behind him. 

“When are you going to finally confess?” Changbin asked when you were out of ear shot, and Jisung pouted, both because he was being called out about his feelings, and because he had no fucking idea when, if ever, he’d tell you how he feels.

“I.. don’t know,” he ended up answering honestly, continuing to look in your direction even as he spoke. You were splashing in the water with your mutual friends, your laugh ringing loud in his ears even with the distance between you.

“C’mon, Ji. Summer breaks are practically built for romance. You gotta make a move,” he’d said, and Jisung once again pouted. “Easier said than done,” he mumbled in response, something akin to dread settling in him whenever he thought about the possibility of you rejecting him.

“Jisung,” Changbin started, all sense of joking or teasing having left him, “I’ve been watching you pine over her since the day I met the two of you. You need to tell her, because I don’t know how much more of those looks of yours I can handle.”

“What look?” Jisung asks with a frown, turning his gaze away from where you are. “Like a lost puppy begging for attention,” Changbin answers nonchalantly, and the appalled reaction he gets from Jisung makes him laugh. “But seriously. I’ll ride home with Chan, so why don’t you take her home later? Get some alone time before you drop her off or something?” 

“But she came with her roommates. Why wouldn’t she leave with them?” Jisung asked, and Changbin laughed as he shook his head. “You’re so clueless, dude.” It’s common knowledge to everyone who came today that the two of you are so hopelessly in love with each other, but seemingly too oblivious to notice how the other one feels. And if Jisung asked you to spend some alone time with him, you’d say yes in a heartbeat, no questions asked.

Maybe what the two of you needed was a little push– a reason to be alone together, a romantic setting to set the tone and finally get the two of you to move beyond the bounds of friendship. And if Jisung won’t act on his own, Changbin will take it into his own hands; mission “get these two pining idiots together” starts today. 

Changbin told Chan, who then told one of your roommates, who then told another. By the time the sun is setting, everyone knows the plan. You would be left alone with Jisung, by any excuse necessary. Thankfully, Chan came in his own car due to his tendency to hit the beach before anyone else, so he and Changbin wouldn’t be leaving Jisung stranded by leaving early.

The two of them left first, with the excuse that they’d be ending their day by hitting the gym– they’d actually just be relaxing on the sofa the rest of the day, but you and Jisung didn’t need to know that. Your roommates took that as their cue to prepare to leave as well, and the group of you helped one another towel dry enough to throw your clothes back on over your swimsuits. 

Jisung approached you as soon as he was done himself, waiting for you to finish packing your things in your tote bag before saying anything. “Hey, d-do you want to go get some ice cream?” he asked, mentally cursing himself for stuttering. Since when did asking your best friend if they want to get ice cream become so nerve wracking? 

“Of course!” you smiled, turning to your roommates next to see if they wanted to join. They all said no, of course, citing being tired or wanting to shower asap as their reasons, but urged you to enjoy your time with Jisung. You don’t find it weird at all, much too excited about eating ice cream to even begin to realize this was a planned set up. 

The sun was just beginning to sink when you arrived at your favorite parlor, excitedly bouncing up to the counter as Jisung trailed behind you with a smile. You decided to be adventurous, picking out a new flavor suited for the summer, while Jisung went with a classic choice of cookie dough. 

“Can I have a bite of yours?” it didn’t take long for you to inevitably ask him, and Jisung gave you an overdramatic sigh as he passed it over to you. Trading bites somehow always ended with you eating more of Jisung’s ice cream than he did, but that was okay with him.

He always ordered your favorite flavor, knowing that you can’t resist the temptation of trying the new one, but would end up wanting cookie dough more than whatever new flavor initially enticed you. 

It’s a bit of a ritual for him at this point; ordering your favorite while pretending it’s his favorite as well, acting like he's annoyed when you beg him for a bite and eventually end up taking half the bowl while offering him whatever flavor you ordered instead as compensation for his loss.

Do you notice the way he smiles after you take his ice cream from him? The adoration that lingers in his eyes as he watches you happily devour the sweet treat?

You skipped to the car when you were finished, evidently very pleased with your ice cream endeavors and not at all apologetic for stealing all of the cookie dough for yourself, once again oblivious to the way he does it all for you.

That would probably never change, and for the first time, Jisung wondered if that was okay. Did he want it to change? Did he want you to notice? He wasn’t sure what was best anymore.

And now here you both were, sitting at a red light while the sun sinks ever lower in the horizon, blue beginning to spread over the sky and little specks of stars finally becoming visible. Instead of looking at the street as he waits for the light to turn, he looks at you. You just looked so pretty, and all he could think of once again was how badly he wanted to kiss you. 

Jisung wished he had words to put what he thought of you other than a simple “pretty” but that’s all that ever came to mind. So, so pretty, impossibly so. Pretty in a way that sunsets and oceans couldn’t ever compare, at least not in his mind– he would always find you better, no comparison ever being good enough to describe what he thought of you. 

You’re in your own little world, humming along to the song playing through the speakers and tapping your fingers to the beat. However, it doesn’t take long for you to feel his eyes on you, your body alerting you to his lingering gaze and instructing you to look back at him.

The sight you're met with when you turn your head makes your face immediately burn; Jisung isn’t simply glancing over at you, or trying to check in with you after a tiring day out. He’s blatantly staring at you. “..Ji..?” his name barely leaves you, an unspoken question lingering in the air between you.

Why is he looking at you like that? What was going through his head right now? Your face heats up exponentially, watching as his eyes travel over your features, seeming to take them in deeply. You instinctively hold in a breath when his eyes reach your lips, staring at them with an overt yearning. 

Your surroundings fade, music no longer audible, the light of the sinking sun illuminating him beautifully and drawing you even further into his gaze. All there was in this moment was Jisung; he was all you could see, all you could focus on, and it was the same for him with you.

You were always his first thought, always there at the forefront of his mind, but he always tried to push the deeper feelings away, because you’re his best friend and he shouldn’t think of you as anything more than that. But right now, he can’t help it.

His urge to kiss you is so strong, and he knows he can’t resist it the way he usually can. Your eyes that hold the entire world– no, the entire galaxy, his galaxy, in them makes his self control shatter.

Maybe Changbin had a point when he said that summer was perfect for romance. Because the way you look at him, with eyes shining under the twinkling lights that blink on one by one with the fading sun– he loves you, he wants to be with you, and that desire is consuming him. 

Your heart races as he leans closer to you, inch by inch. You lose all concept of time passing, a moment that in reality lasts mere seconds instead feeling like an eternity. You close your eyes, waiting; waiting for the moment you’ve craved for ages, for his lips to touch yours for the first time. How long had you pined for him? 

It’s hard to say exactly; In high school, when he got his first love confession and accepted it, it broke your heart. But at the time, you thought it was just because it meant he would have less time for you.

With time you moved on, deciding it was important to be happy for your best friend even if it crushed you for reasons you didn’t entirely understand. And eventually you entered your first relationship as well, and for a time you could forget about how lonely you felt from not having Jisung always near you. 

Neither of your respective first relationships lasted all that long; high school romances tend to dwindle as college draws near, after all. Life has a tendency to take people to different places, and some realize their ambitions faster than others.

It saddened you at the time, but you weren’t going to alter your life for someone else and you didn’t expect anyone to do that for you either. After all, 20 is awfully early to decide not to follow your dreams for the sake of someone else. 

But you and Jisung were still on the same path, and that had to mean something, right? It was like the days where you were distant never even occurred, the both of you picking up where you left off like no time had ever passed.

You were as close as you’d ever been, still seeing each other at every opportunity, even when you were drowning in assignment deadlines and exhaustive study efforts. He made time for you, and you made time for him, even when it was hard. Didn’t that mean something? 

Yes, it meant everything– at least it did to you. And so did he; Jisung meant everything to you. He always had, and you think he always will. You can feel his breath on you now, the warmth tickling your skin and your heart feeling like it’s going to burst from out of your chest as the gap between you closes. He’s so close to you, the closest he’s ever been. His lips drawn to yours, closer, closer, and then–

The shrill honk of a car from behind snaps you both from the moment. Jisung opens his eyes quickly, blinking for just a moment as reality settles back over him and he processes what was just about to happen. You do the same, turning your attention back towards the front and seeing that the traffic light had turned green while the two of you were lost in the moment you were sharing. 

He swallows, mentally offering an apology to the cars behind him as he continues to drive you home. Fuck, he really got carried away. Was he really about to risk everything you had together by kissing you? What would happen to your friendship?

He’s not supposed to like you, and you definitely don’t like him– at least, not romantically. He’s at least 60% sure of that; maybe even 70%. Get it through your head Jisung– you're just friends. Just. Friends.

You meanwhile are stuck in thought as well, though not in the same way. You feel light, almost? Buzzing with what could only be described as pure excitement, unfiltered joy seeping out of every pore.

He was going to kiss you!! He was really going to! That meant he liked you, didn’t it? Or maybe he even loved you? Loved you in the same you loved him, wanted to be with you in the same way you wanted to be with him? 

You take a peek in his direction, noticing his stiff hold on the steering wheel and the rigid way his body sits. He keeps his gaze straight forward, not daring to look at you, afraid of what expression he’ll be met with. He’d never forgive himself if he looked over to see you were upset with him, forever feeling like an idiot if it was his fault your friendship came to an end.

Maybe he’s just nervous, you think. That would make sense! He gathered his courage for a moment, and now he needed time to gather it again– it's not easy to overcome hesitation and let someone know how you feel about them, but this minor setback won't be the end of it. He’d definitely kiss you before the night was over! You’re sure of it! 

Okay, maybe you weren’t entirely sure of it. Because he’s still stiff and nervous when he drops you off at your apartment building, offering a strained goodbye and eyes not quite meeting yours. That’s still okay! Jisung is just shy– that has to be it! It won’t be long before he kisses you, you’re sure of it– for real this time! …right? right!

Maybe you should stop saying you’re sure of things, because you’re never right. It’s been a week since Jisung almost kissed you, and he’s been avoiding you the entire time. You didn’t understand– surely he was over his shyness by now, right? How much longer was he going to make you wait? It was agony. 

“Ji. Movie night at my place tonight. And I swear if you cancel again I’ll never forgive you !!!” you texted him dramatically, spamming various angry emojis for added effect. To your relief, Jisung agrees to come over and bring snacks as an apology for being busy. You don’t believe he was actually busy of course, but you’ll let him off the hook on that for now.

It's mid afternoon when he finally arrives, multiple bags full of snacks and sweet treats in hand. You smile and hug him tightly, noting that he’s still stiff but deciding not to dwell on that just yet– he’s finally here, after all! And if this plethora of snacks told you anything, it was that he genuinely was sorry for avoiding you. 

He tosses the bags on the coffee table, and you throw on a random movie you’ve already seen before, because the movie ultimately doesn’t matter– it’s just an excuse to see Jisung again. Unlike his usual self, he sits on the complete opposite end of the sofa from you, putting an invisible wall between you. Well, that’s fine! You’ll just move closer! 

You hear his breath hitch when you sit right next to him, glancing over just long enough to see you smiling at him. He’s so fucked– his feelings definitely aren’t under control enough for this; you're positively torturing him. How is he supposed to get over his feelings for you if you’re looking at him like that while sitting so close to him?

You purposely leave your hand close to his, waiting to see if he’ll hold it, but he doesn’t. He keeps his eyes straight ahead at the tv, evidently still scared to meet your gaze or be too close to you. Why? Why does he keep avoiding your eyes when you look at him? Why won’t he bring himself closer to you? Is he trying to forget it happened?

Does he not realize how badly you wanted him to kiss you? Maybe.. Maybe he’s scared to bring it up. Maybe he’s afraid of rejection, or of your friendship deteriorating from his outward admission. Maybe he’d rather bottle it back up, pretend he was never on the brink of kissing you, because losing you would be the worst thing that would ever happen to him.

Is he scared that you don’t have feelings for him? Is that why even now, when his feelings have all but been laid out, he’s avoiding the confrontation? But he doesn’t have to be afraid of that– you love him. If he’s unsure, then you need him to know, and you’ll tell him yourself. 

"Jisung, look at me," you suddenly call to him, tone so serious that he can’t possibly ignore it. He swallows, forcing himself to finally meet your gaze head on, palms sweating as he anticipates what he’s most afraid of. "The other day, in your car… were you going to kiss me?" Fuck. He knew you were going to ask. 

You watch his expression change as his face heats up, a not at all subtle red encroaching over his features. "O-Oh, I–" he starts to speak, but immediately stops, words dying in his throat. Fuck. God Dammit. Even though he knew this would happen, none of the scenarios he crafted in his head seemed to be of any assistance. 

The excuses he conjured, the apologies that he knew he should utter, the words he thought he should say that were practiced over and over again.. All of that preparation failed him now, a sort of panic settling over him as his body tensed and hands clammed up further. 

Honestly, watching him flounder for an excuse or explanation that would allow him to pretend he doesn’t have feelings for you is kind of funny, (and oddly cute), but now really isn’t the time to let it continue. Now, after years and years of secret pining, it’s time for both of you to lay out your feelings clearly, verbally. 

"It would've been fine.. I wanted you to do it," you say with complete honesty, pushing away your own nerves and hesitation as far as you could. You couldn’t let your anxieties get the better of you now; you needed to say what you feel, and encourage Jisung to do the same, otherwise the two of you will always be stuck in the boundaries of friendship. You both need to swallow down the part of you that is scared and shy, or you’ll never move beyond what you are. 

His eyes widened, mouth falling slightly agape in shock. What? Huh? You wanted him to kiss you? But that would mean even if you don’t love him like he loves you, you at the very least like him, and surely you didn’t. There is no way you like him like that, because that would mean his friends are right, and he’s a clueless idiot. 

Fuck. Is he a clueless idiot? 

"I'm in love with you, Ji," you finally admit for the first time out loud, and while it’s nerve wracking to say the least, it’s also a relief. Your feelings have been a secret for so long (at least to Jisung they were, cause lord knows you’re an open book otherwise), and it felt good to say it, to tell him right to his face that you love him.

Even if you read into the situation completely wrong somehow, and he wasn’t trying to kiss you that day and didn’t like you, at least you no longer had to hide how you feel. "Since.. since when?" he asks, still a bit stunned and entirely in disbelief.

He can’t believe this is even happening, and there’s part of him that thinks this must be some elaborate dream; he must’ve fallen asleep during the movie, or maybe he never woke up this morning and this entire day has been part of a long dream. But no, he knows it isn’t a dream; because you are much too tangible, and no dream, no matter how vivid, compares to the reality of you. 

"I-I don't know, since.. always?" you answer, a slight blush of your own crawling over your skin. You don’t remember the exact moment you realized you liked him as more than a friend anymore, as you were still just a kid then. But you know that by the time high school came, your seemingly small crush had developed into much more, and in recent months, you finally realized the true depth of that feeling. 

Even when you were too young to understand what love is and what it felt like, even when you convinced yourself that everything you felt for him was purely platonic in nature, your feelings for Jisung were there. So.. since always. You’ve always wanted him close to you, always wanted your life to be spent with him by your side, always, always loved him above anyone else.

He groans loudly, throwing his arms up and covering his face in a display of anguish. "You're telling me you could've been my girlfriend this whole time?" You can’t help but giggle at his reaction, finding him impossibly cute and funny.

“It’s not too late for me to be your girlfriend now,” you say, and he immediately peels his arms away from his face, looking at you as if you’ve said something that he only could’ve imagined in his wildest dreams.

“Do you mean that?” he asks, hope palpable in his tone, eyes pleading for this to not be something you’re saying just to tease him. “Of course I mean that, silly,” you giggle a little, reaching out for his hands and squeezing them in yours, “I meant everything I said.”

“Oh my god, thank god– I mean, you’re really going to be my girlfriend? You’re not just saying it, right? I don’t have to like. Pretend I don’t have feelings for you anymore? Because it’s been driving me insane, and I don't think I can do it anymore, you're way too pretty and–”

“Jisung–! Shut up and kiss me already,” you interrupt his rambling, and he blinks once, twice, obliging your request as soon as the reality of your words settles over him. 

When your lips finally touch his, it feels so right– like everything you’ve ever felt or experienced in your entire life was all to lead to this very moment. It’s sweet, addictive, intoxicating– everything you have ever wanted, ever hoped for, and more.

His hands are hesitant, unsure of where they should rest and if it’s okay to touch you, but when you reach out to him and pull yourself closer, it’s all the permission he needs to let his hands wander. 

Years worth of suppressed emotions bubble to the surface all at once, both of you caught in the tidal wave of repressed feelings and urges. Soft, slow timid kisses eventually turn into full ones, deep and impassioned, with all the weight of your feelings pressed into them. Your hands rest on his chest while his move down your waist, fingers lingering on your hips for just a moment before bringing them back up. 

His tongue licks against your lip, tentative and almost shy, a silent hope lingering, an unspoken beg for your permission. You open your mouth, granting him what he desires with no restraint, your own tongue meeting his eagerly, coming together in a salacious dance. One of his hands reaches for the nape of your neck to keep you close, and you can feel him smile against your lips when it causes a noise of approval to involuntarily escape from your throat.

Both of your lips become red and swollen from their constant use, any sense of rhythm having completely degraded now that your open mouth kisses have turned into sloppy messes of tongue. It’s embarrassing how worked up he’s getting just from kissing you, and he desperately hopes you haven’t noticed how hard he’s gotten from it. But of course, you have noticed, and you definitely intend on doing something about it. 

“Ji.. do you want to touch me?” you pull away from him to ask, and the reaction you get from him is immediate. “God, yes, can I?” The eagerness in his voice makes you giggle as you nod. “Just, uhm.. Get comfortable?” you suggest, shifting your position so that you’re on your heels, hands just slightly in front of you, making your intent clear to him– you want to be in his lap, and obviously he’s going to let you. 

Jisung leans back on the sofa, watching you crawl in his lap with bated breath before you pull your shirt up and over your head, tossing it to the floor beside you. You reach for one of his hands, guiding it to your chest, and he swallows thickly, the sight before him making him throb in his shorts. The fact that he gets to kiss you now, gets to touch you– it’s a dream come true. Though, the reality is much better than any of his many, many dreams of being with you. 

He lifts his other hand to you as well, completely forgetting he's using it to support himself, making him fall completely back against the sofa, head thunking on the arm rest. You laugh as he lets out a small “ow!”, his clumsy nature always endearing to you, and especially so during this moment; it’s the sweet, goofy side of Jisung that made you fall in love with him, after all. 

Jisung laughs with you once the sting fades, fully indulging in the sound of your laugh and the cute way your face scrunches, even if it is at his expense. You reach your hand to his head, rubbing it in soft, soothing gesture as you lean down, kissing him once more as he cups your breasts in his hands. The mewl you let out against his lips when he squeezes is enough to send him straight to heaven.

No, he already is in heaven, because nothing could be better than this; you on him, against him, kissing him, letting him touch and squeeze you to his heart's content. He lets out a hiss when you settle your full weight into his lap, his erection pressing directly against you. He gasps when you grind against him, and you use that as an opportunity to let your tongue back into his mouth. 

You stay like that for some time, making out with each other while your fingers are tangled in his hair and his hands squeeze at your flesh, but you’re beginning to desire more, and you can tell Jisung is too, from the way his body reacts with every subtle move you make. You separate from him, sitting up and bringing your hands behind your back to unhook your bra and finally remove it.

“W-Wait, your roommates–” Jisung’s voice comes out urgently, abruptly propping himself up on his elbows as a realization hits him, “what if they come home? While you’re.. we’re..?” Oh. You were still in the living room, huh? That fact entirely left your mind, much too absorbed in the man underneath you to think about who could end up seeing the both of you like this.

Well, they knew you were inviting him over today, and knowing them, they’d likely stay out for a while to allow you to have alone time.. But still, it’d be better to not risk having them walk in on the sight of you half naked in your boyfriend’s lap. “My room, then?” you ask, carefully removing yourself from atop him, and Jisung nods eagerly, quickly rising to his feet the moment he is able.

You grab your shirt from the floor, ensuring you leave no evidence of your actions behind before leading Jisung to your room with quick, eager steps. He’s been in your room a million times, but it feels so different now, given the context of everything that happened moments before. You both stand there a moment, not hesitant, but rather shy, deciding how best you should proceed from here.

You eventually decide to sit on your bed first, shooting Jisung a soft smile afterwards that lets him know he’s welcome to come join you. So he does; he carefully sits next to you, the newfound shyness fully settling over the two of you. You were acting in the heat of the moment earlier, your bodies reacting before your minds could catch up, but now that you’ve both had a moment to process your actions, it fills you with butterflies. 

There’s a moment where you stay like that, subtle blushes on your faces as you look at each other, before you speak up again, “Do you want to keep going..?” “Yes!” Jisung answers without even thinking, immediately clearing his throat after and trying to play off how eager he just sounded, “I mean, uhm– yes. Do you want to?”

The blush on his face flares when you giggle at him; he knows you aren’t laughing at him necessarily, but he can’t help the tinge of embarrassment that crawls up his spine. “Yes, I do,” you smile at him, and it’s so pretty and bright that he can’t even be flustered anymore; because more importantly than that, you want to keep going too– you want more, just like he does. 

So he smiles too, reaching out to you and pulling you into a kiss, both of you giggling into it softly. The giggles fade out as the kiss becomes more heated, you gently pushing him back and crawling back on top of him when his head hits your pillows, returning to the position you were in previously. 

Jisung’s hands are the ones that reach behind you this time, fumbling with the hooks of your bra while you kiss him with his face in your hands. Thankfully, he gets it undone on the third try, and you sit back up, letting it fall down your arms and subsequently tossing it aside. “..so beautiful,” he mumbles mostly to himself, but you still hear it, and it makes the blush on your face flare.

You grab at the hem of his shirt, wanting to see his body as well. He lifts himself off his back, helping you pull his shirt off, neither of you paying any mind to where it lands once it’s discarded. You trace your hands over him when he lays back again, from his broad chest to his slim waist, eyes drinking him in while your hands familiarize themselves with the feeling of his bare skin. 

You’ve seen him shirtless countless times in recent years, so you’re no stranger to how attractive he is, but it’s different now; different because now you can openly admire him, and don't have to pretend to not notice that he’s built like a greek god. Even Adonis himself doesn’t hold a candle to the beauty of Han Jisung. 

“You’re so pretty, Ji,” you tell him sincerely. The compliment makes the blush on his face darken, but he returns your smile, reaching his hands back up to you. “I should be saying that to you,” he responds, one of his hands resting on your waist, “you’re the prettiest thing in the world.” He brings his other hand to the nape of your neck just as before, gently pulling you back to him before you can reply, his tongue grazing your lips when they touch again.

He brings your hands to breasts now, cupping them in his hands as he did before. He can feel your breath shudder when his thumbs brush over your nipples, a soft mewl pouring into his mouth when he rubs them between his fingers. The stimulation makes your entire body shiver, your hips grind down in search of some sort of relief, soft groans leaving Jisung every time you press your body down on his cock.

You separate from the kiss, one your hands reaching between your bodies, settling on the waistband of his shorts. “Is this okay?” you ask, watching him for any sign of hesitation or apprehension, but there’s none to be found. Instead, you’re met with eager, twinkling eyes, anticipation written all over him as he nods, a soft “yes, please,” leaving him in a quick breath.

You shove his waistband down just enough to free his cock from its confines, a hiss escaping him when your fingers begin to trace him up and down. Your fingers gather the pre-cum leaking from his tip, spreading it over his length easily, and turning him into a wet, sticky mess. He watches in breathless awe when your hand wraps around him, entranced by the visual before him.

You, so beautiful and lovely, with your pretty hands on and around him, watching him and the way his body reacts to you with sweet salacity. He lets out a breathy groan when you begin to pump him earnestly, his eyes closing despite how badly he wants to keep watching. Your hand just feels so much better than his, so much softer and perfectly warm. 

You watch his face, committing to memory the way it contorts, the way his brows furrow and teeth sink into his bottom lip. You memorize the way his chest rises and falls with each quick breath, the way his thighs tremble, the way his stomach contracts as you drive him closer and closer to release. 

“Sungie,” you call to him, slowing your pace down just enough for him to be able to easily open his eyes and look at you, “want you in my mouth– is that okay? Can I?”

“Oh my god, yes, please, you don’t even have to ask,” he says between shallow breaths, far too excited to have your mouth on him to be embarrassed by the desperate display he’s putting on.

He props himself on his elbows, watching you scoot yourself down his legs and bringing your face right up to his cock. Your tongue comes out first, collecting the pre-cum with long, drawn out licks, and fuck, the sight alone is enough to have his eyes rolling back. You kiss the tip before you wrap your lips around him, his head falling back and curses leaving his lips as you sink your head down on him.

His hands grip at your sheets, desperately trying to hold himself back from bucking his hips up and choking you, because the last thing he wants is to accidentally hurt you. But fuck, your mouth feels so amazing, he almost can’t breathe. “God, fuck-” he gasps when his cock touches the back of your throat, your tongue rubbing the underside so perfectly.

He’s trying to hold it back, desperate to feel your tongue on him longer, to have your lips wrapped around him for just another moment, but he can’t. He releases with a strained cry, his cum filling your mouth in quick spurts. The unfamiliar feeling causes you to gag at first, but you recover quickly, swallowing all he has to give you happily. 

You release him from your mouth when you feel him begin to soften, laying next to him with a soft, satisfied smile on your face. “Was it good?” you ask him and he lets out a breathless laugh before he answers.

“So good, seriously, you’re amazing,” he says, turning his head to look at you with a small smile of his own to match yours, “but you already knew that, didn’t you? You just wanted me to say it.” 

“Maybe,” you giggle, and Jisung does as well, shifting to his side and pulling your body closer to his. He kisses you once more, tasting himself on your lips, but not at all minding it– in fact, he finds that he actually really likes it. It’s fucking hot, if he’s being honest. But there’s one thing that would make it even hotter– if your taste was on his tongue too.

“I want to make you feel good too,” he says, fingers resting on your hips, just above your own waistband, “is that okay with you? Can I?” The question makes your stomach flip, thighs pressing together at the idea of Jisung between your legs– you really want it. “Yes, I– I want you to.” 

With your affirmation, he lifts himself off the bed and lets you lay back, deciding to remove the last of his clothing before settling between your legs once you’re comfortable. His fingers hook in your waistband now, ready to take your shorts and underwear off together in one motion. He looks at you before he does, taking in your expression that is filled with shy anticipation, eyes traveling down your body next, stopping where his hands rest on your hips.

God, he feels like a virgin again with the way his hands tremble, the thought of you seeing you bare leaving him as nervous as it does excited. Why does his heart feel like it’s going to burst out of his chest? He’s eager, he knows that, and shyness still lingers, but there’s something else there that’s making his heart race out of control. 

It’s because he loves you, if he had to guess. You turn him to putty, one look from you enough to reduce him to a mere puddle. He doubts you know the effect you have on him, as he’s spent so much time trying to hide it, but he doesn’t have to anymore. Jisung can love you fully now– no need to hold back, to push it aside, to try and disguise it as the platonic love between friends. 

He can hold you in his arms, can feel your lips on his, can touch your bare skin, can put his all into making you as happy as you make him. He looks back at your face again, your expression is similar to his own. Eager trepidation written in your eyes, love and adoration lingering underneath. 

Your eyes meet his once more, shy but certain, and you smile at him, the way you always have. A smile that makes his brain go fuzzy, that fills him with a sweet desire, that makes him whole. You, the brightest star in his galaxy, so beautiful and perfect, whom he once thought was out of reach but now sits in hands, radiating love and warmth. 

If he is your Adonis, then you’re his Aphrodite; when you are together, the sun shines brighter, the world more vibrant, more beautiful, all because you’re there with him. He’ll love you until his last breath, and he knows you’ll do the same, a promise unspoken for now, but will one day leave him earnestly, down on one knee with a ring in hand. 

“I love you,” he tells you as he leans down, kissing you before you can utter a reply, slowly pulling your clothing down your legs as he does. Jisung’s earnest admission, paired with his actions, makes the heat on your face flare and body tremble, hands coming up to cover your face once the kiss is over as an even more intense shyness settles over you.

“Love you too,” you mutter, face feeling impossibly hot. Sure, you already admitted it earlier, but it’s your first time hearing it from Jisung, and the fact that he’s saying it during an intimate moment while looking at you like that? Your heart simply can’t handle it. Peeking through your fingers, you can see him smiling as he carefully pushes your legs apart and it makes a whine unconsciously leave you.

“Baby,” his voice calls to you, and the use of the petname from him definitely does your heart no favors, “why are you covering your face? It’s just me.”

“That’s the problem– it’s you,” you mumble, just barely managing to peel your hands away from your face to give him a pout. Doesn’t he know that the way you’re acting now is entirely his fault? It was much easier to push past your shyness when the focus was on him instead of you. 

Jisung isn’t used to seeing this bashful side of you and God, it’s so cute that he might have fallen for you even harder than before (if that’s even possible.) He smiles again, and you swear this surge of confidence from him has to be illegal– because the effect it has on you is positively lethal. Han Jisung is going to be the death of you. 

“You’re so wet,” he speaks softly in your ear, fingers rubbing through your folds and coating them in the proof of your excitement. “Jisung–” you whine once more, but before you can cover your face again, his other hand comes up to stop you. “Please let me see you. I need to know how you feel when I’m touching you. Okay, baby? Please.” 

Fuck. How can you say no after hearing that? You concede with a nod, lowering your hands in a silent promise to do your best to look at him, to let him see you no matter how shy or overwhelmed you may get; because if it’s what Jisung wants, you’ll do your best to ensure he has it. 

“Thank you,” he smiles as he gives you a quick peck on the lips, “in return I’ll make sure you feel so good. Are you ready?” You nod again, but quickly realize he wants you to actually say it, so you swallow down your nerves the best you can to allow yourself to speak. “Yes, I– I’m ready. Make me feel good, please.” 

His two middle fingers press against your hole, using the tips of his fingers to check for any resistance before carefully pushing fully inside. His first motions are slow, making sure you’re well adjusted to the feeling of his fingers and observing you for any changes in expression. Your body jolts when he finds the spot inside you that makes you see stars, head falling back as an unintentionally loud moan escapes you. 

Your teeth sink into your bottom lip, eyes squeezing shut, whimpers and moans unable to be held back with the way his fingers repeatedly prod at your spot. “Does it feel good? You like how my fingers feel inside you?” He asks, and even though you can’t see the smile anymore, you can hear it. You nod repeatedly, mouth opening to try to tell him, though all that escapes you are embarrassingly loud sounds of pleasure. 

“Can’t say it? That’s okay, your pussy is telling me everything I need to know. You’re squeezing my fingers so tight,” he says in your ear, pressing a kiss to your skin after. Oh, you liked that a lot– he can tell by the way you clench around his fingers, legs trembling and hands twisting the sheets beneath you. Maybe the fact that he talks a lot will be a good thing for once.

“You gonna cum soon? Want to cum all over my fingers? Go ahead baby, I want to see it, show me how good you feel.” “Oh my god, Ji-” you gasp; you’re so, so close– you just need one thing to finally push you over the edge. “K-Kiss, please, need a kiss,” you practically beg, looking at him with watery eyes and pouty lips. 

Holy fuck, does that make him crumble. How could anything be simultaneously so cute and fucking hot? He leans down to meet your request, free hand moving to cup your face while his fingers continue their ministrations, and that’s all you need to finally come undone.

Your entire body shakes, eyes rolling back as your release soaks his fingers. He keeps kissing you even as you come down from your high, letting you pull back for air as you please but always capturing your lips again as soon as he is able. 

You whine when he finally slips his fingers out of you, watching shyly as he brings them to his mouth to lick clean. His eyes stay on yours the entire time, and it makes the heat on your face intensify beyond what you thought was possible. He kisses you once more when he’s finished, tongue coaxing you to open your mouth, both your tastes melding together on your tongues, just as he wanted.

He’s hard again too– you can feel his cock pressing against you, begging for more stimulation that you’re more than happy to give. “Ji–” you pull away from his lips to long enough to speak, “please fuck me.”

He groans at your words, opening his eyes to look at you before he continues, “I will, I promise I’ll make you feel so good. But, I– I, uhm, I don’t have anything, I didn’t expect anything to happen, so..” 

“That’s okay. I trust you Ji,” you reply, pressing a soft kiss to his lips as you reach your hand to his face, “love you so much, just want you inside me.” He groans again, kissing you sweetly as he aligns himself with your entrance.

“You’re sure?” he pulls away to ask first, “It’s okay to change your mind, I can run out and grab condoms and–” You smile, shutting him up with a kiss before he can continue to ramble. You appreciate the offer, and the sweet consideration he has for you, but.. “I’m so sure, I promise. I want this.”

He returns your smile when you pull away, reaching one of his hands to grab yours, squeezing it before intertwining your fingers together. “As long as you’re sure, I’ll give you everything you want,” he says, a promise that extends beyond just this moment– anything and everything he has to give, it’s yours for as long as you want it. 

Jisung can’t help but let out a moan as he sinks inside you, eyes closing and head falling forward at the immediate overwhelming pleasure your body brings him. You squeeze his hand, your other one coming up to hold his face; you can feel the heat radiating off his cheek, can see the sweat that lingers on his brow and makes his hair stick to his forehead. 

When he opens his eyes to look at you again, his stomach erupts in butterflies, heart squeezing in his chest. You’re just as sweaty as him, face flushed and hair disheveled, and yet it’s the most beautiful you’ve ever been– and you’re smiling; the pretty smile that always turns his brain to mush and snatches his breath away. 

God, he can’t take it– he needs to calm down before the sight of you, paired with the mind-numbing pleasure that’s encompassing him, gives him a heart attack. "Sungie, are you okay?" you ask after a moment passes, concern growing on your face as you continue to hold his face in your hand.

"Fuck, y-yeah, I'm fine, I– I just.. this is so embarrassing, but I just like– I need a minute," he admits almost breathlessly, as if even the act speaking to you is a struggle– and in a way it is, because all his concentration is being poured into not cumming just from seeing your pretty face, or your beautiful body underneath him while being squeezed by your walls.

"Take your time, I'm not going anywhere," you tell him sincerely, squeezing his hand in reassurance as you lean up to kiss him. You understand why he’s embarrassed, but you hope he knows that when he’s with you, he doesn’t have to be; you love him no matter what.

Besides, you have to admit you like that you have such a profound effect on him. And while the kiss doesn’t help calm his heart by any means, he appreciates your sweetness endlessly, meeting your lips eagerly despite himself. 

When his hips finally move, the sweet sound that pours from your lips sends a shiver through his entire body. He wants, needs, to hear it again, more and more, until his name is the only thing lingering on your tongue, the only thing you are capable of uttering between your pleasured moans.

“So pretty, everything about you, your body, the sounds you make, so pretty,” he tells you, though his lips barely leave yours long enough to say it. Your fingers tangle in his hair, tugging just enough to draw a whine from him, and he knows he’s done for.

Every sound, every touch, every glance, no matter how soft or how subtle drives him further into overwhelming bliss. He’s drowning in you, in the love and relief you offer him, lost in the abyss that is your care. He brings his hands to your legs, lifting them up and effectively folding you in half, aiming to find the spot that’ll have you crying out for him.

It only takes a few experimental thrusts to find it, and the way clench around him, voice ringing loudly in his ears as your legs tremble in his hold, it’s enough to make him want to cum right then and there. His pace quickens, bottom lip caught between his teeth as he watches your body react to him, desperate to hold back his need to cum for as long as he can manage, just so he can have this view of you for a while longer. 

But when you start to whine his name, when you breathlessly tell him you can feel him twitching inside you, can feel him so deep and how you feel so good– his restraint crumbles in an instant, falling apart for you far too easily. His hips stutter as he drills into you, thrusts becoming sloppy as he chases his high. You bring your fingers to your clit, rubbing in quick circles, wanting nothing more than to cum with the person you’ve loved your entire life.

"Oh my fucking god, feels so good, you feel so good, I– f-fuck, I can't–" he babbles against your skin, his high so dangerously close, but doing his best to hold it back just for you, so that you can cum together. “Baby, ‘m so close, gonna cum, want you to cum with me, please, please cum with me,” he begs, voice easily the most whiny and desperate you’ve ever heard it, and your body reacts almost instantly, as if his word was the command you needed to finally let go.

You use your free hand to pull him into a messy, open mouthed kiss, eyes rolling back as you finally cum on his cock and let him swallow every noise you make. Your entire body tenses and shudders, his cock twitching as you squeeze him tighter, pleasured whines and curses tumbling from his lips as cum shoots into you, fucking you through your shared highs. He continues to fuck you until overstimulation and sensitivity takes hold, his body trembling as he pulls out of you.

He promptly lies next to you, arms wasting no time in wrapping around you, hugging you closely to himself as the two of you collect your breath. You can’t help but smile as you look at him, and he does the same, his unwavering love and joy meeting your own. You recognize that you should probably get up, should clean up and get dressed now before your roommates get home, but you simply don’t want to. 

You wiggle closer, pressing yourself against him, letting out a content sigh when his arms squeeze you tighter. You close your eyes for a moment, indulging in the security Jisung brings you, the love, the support, the safety of his touch, of his presence. He kisses the top of your head, meeting your cute, gentle smile with one of his own. 

When he looks at you, and sees the pure, obvious love written in your eyes, he's not sure how he always missed it. You look at him the way he looks at you– like he holds your entire world in his hands, the sincerest form of love shining in every glance, bleeding into every touch.

Your smile, sweet and content, eyes soft and full of adoration; they tell him everything. Even without words, he knows– you love him, now and always. A promise, unspoken but understood, that you'll always be together, that you'll always have each other. 

Jisung takes his time now, to do all the things he imagined he would do if he was ever granted this moment; he holds you close, he plants kisses all over you, he tells you how pretty you are, how perfect and beautiful, until you're giggling, a cute pink blush spreading on your cheeks as you playfully tell him to stop. And when he does, and you look at him with your gleaming eyes and adorable smile, he tells you he loves you, just as he's always wanted to.  

[gothicada]

Qᴜᴇᴇɴ ᴏꜰ ᴄᴜᴘꜱ

ᴍᴇᴀɴɪɴɢ ʀᴏᴍᴀɴᴄᴇ ᴄᴀʀᴇᴇʀ/ꜱᴄʜᴏᴏʟ ꜰᴜᴛᴜʀᴇ ꜰɪɴᴀɴᴄᴇ ʜᴏᴡ ꜱᴏᴍᴇᴏɴᴇ ꜰᴇᴇʟ�� ᴀʙᴏᴜᴛ ʏᴏᴜ ʜᴏᴡ ꜱᴏᴍᴇᴏɴᴇ ᴡᴏᴜʟᴅ ᴛʀᴇᴀᴛ ʏᴏᴜ ʜᴏᴡ ꜱᴏᴍᴇᴏɴᴇ ᴘᴇʀᴄᴇɪᴠᴇꜱ ʏᴏᴜ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄᴀʀᴅ ᴀꜱ ᴀ ᴘᴇʀꜱᴏɴ ꜱᴇx

⟶ Qᴜᴇᴇɴ ᴏꜰ ᴄᴜᴘꜱ ᴜᴘʀɪɢʜᴛ

ʚїɞ ᴍᴇᴀɴɪɴɢ ⟶ the meaning of the queen of cups is about being compassionate, being able to tap into your intuition, being someone who is supportive and creative. someone who is a good caretaker, good mother. the queen of cups is about reflections, seeing a new light into something, learning how to love yourself and being able to think.

ʚїɞ ʀᴏᴍᴀɴᴄᴇ ⟶ for romance, the queen of cups is a good card to get. it means the romance will be compassionate, a relationship that is supportive and kind. the connection between the two of you being able to deepen the connection you have but this could be an indicator of advice, having to learn how to put up boundaries so people can respect you.

ʚїɞ ᴄᴀʀᴇᴇʀ/ꜱᴄʜᴏᴏʟ ⟶ the queen of cups for a career/school reading could mean that you could have someone help you with something. could find love in that scenario, the work you're doing could be emotionally fulfilling. the queen of cups for school could mean you could do fine with the grades you're going to get. or you could get a re-submission.

ʚїɞ ꜰᴜᴛᴜʀᴇ ⟶ for a future reading, the queen of cups is about putting up your boundaries, finding someone you can lean on. you getting a kind gesture, or you doing a kind gesture. the queen of cups in a future reading could be about you healing, finding a group that will heal your wounds, or being in an environment that will be good for you.

ʚїɞ ꜰɪɴᴀɴᴄᴇ ⟶ in a finance reading, the queen of cups could be able getting help, or you helping other people. this card can also mean feeling generous and learning that money isnt everything. could be about a nearing promotion, "nearing". an a circumstance where you could contribute to a charity.

ʚїɞ ʜᴏᴡ ꜱᴏᴍᴇᴏɴᴇ ꜰᴇᴇʟꜱ ᴀʙᴏᴜᴛ ʏᴏᴜ ⟶ when it comes to how someone feels about you, the queen of cups shows that they will feel deeply loved by you, they will feel that you are supportive. the queen of cups shows that this person cares much about you, they likely have a soft spot for you and would be supportive to you and would do a lot for you. this could also mean that they will feel like you're someone they can lean on.

ʚїɞ ʜᴏᴡ ꜱᴏᴍᴇᴏɴᴇ ᴡᴏᴜʟᴅ ᴛʀᴇᴀᴛ ʏᴏᴜ ⟶ like in the name, the person would treat you like a queen. they would want to be the type of person "you" can lean on, and they would be very caring. sometimes they could be over-whelming with the much love they'll give, but in the end, it is for a good reason. they would empathise with you and even be very protective.

ʚїɞ ʜᴏᴡ ꜱᴏᴍᴇᴏɴᴇ ᴘᴇʀᴄᴇɪᴠᴇꜱ ʏᴏᴜ ⟶ on how someone could perceive you, they will think of you as someone who is kind, healing and warm. they will think of you as someone who is supportive, honorable and authentic. pulling out the queen of cups shows that they would think of you as someone who is beautiful, pretty, very feminine or how you interact with others can be endearing. they would think of you as a good listener as well.

ʚїɞ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄᴀʀᴅ ᴀꜱ ᴀ ᴘᴇʀꜱᴏɴ ⟶ as a person, the queen of cups can be a mother, or someone who is the mother of a group, a mother-figure. they're someone who is faithful but sensitive, they have great creativity to them, and they can be very inspiring to the people around them. many people likely look up to them, this card for this question implies that the person can be very intuitive, psychic.

ʚїɞ ꜱᴇx ⟶ very passionate sex, the sex being generous and both parties wanting to satisfy the other party. could involve fingering, much orgasms, could lead to pregnancy if not careful, or if you want to become pregnant. the queen of cups is a good symbol to get. you will be nurtured, breast fondling, body worship, your partner knowing exactly what you like, very touchy sex.

⟶ Qᴜᴇᴇɴ ᴏꜰ ᴄᴜᴘꜱ ʀᴇᴠᴇʀꜱᴇᴅ

ʚїɞ ʀᴇᴠᴇʀꜱ���ʟ ᴍᴇᴀɴɪɴɢ ⟶ in reverse, the queen of cups is about inner feelings, caring about yourself, self-love, but it can also be about not being able to express your feelings, it depends on what cards are around because it could mean various of things. the queen of cups in reverse could be about depression, self-centredness being immature and not knowing what to do etc.

ʚїɞ ʀᴇᴠᴇʀꜱᴀʟ ʀᴏᴍᴀɴᴄᴇ ⟶ the queen of cups in reverse for a romance reading can involve one-sided love, someone putting all the efforts and not given anything back. could be about a lover who is too sensitive, and someone in the connection feeling like they're a parent more than a lover. someone can be very egotistical in the relationship and could lack emotionally maturity.

ʚїɞ ʀᴇᴠᴇʀꜱᴀʟ ᴄᴀʀᴇᴇʀ/ꜱᴄʜᴏᴏʟ ⟶ for school or work, the queen of cups in reverse could be about taking a break, if a group project, you might fee like you're the only one doing something. might feel like you're not getting the help you deserve, and not having a good direction, the job could be draining for your mental health.

ʚїɞ ʀᴇᴠᴇʀꜱᴀʟ ꜰᴜᴛᴜʀᴇ ⟶ for a future reading, the queen of cups can be about taking a time for yourself, having a creative block, and being in a moment when you're not thinking stuff through. the queen of cups in reverse here can be about feeling drained or over-whelmed, could get into an argument if not careful.

ʚїɞ ʀᴇᴠᴇʀꜱᴀʟ ꜰɪɴᴀɴᴄᴇ ⟶ in a finance reading, the queen of cups in reverse can mean that you could be spending more than you have. indulging in retail therapy, take care of your money, dont be too generous to other people. in a finance reading, the queen of cups in reverse can also mean being stingy with your money.

ʚїɞ ʀᴇᴠᴇʀꜱᴀʟ ʜᴏᴡ ꜱᴏᴍᴇᴏɴᴇ ꜰᴇᴇʟꜱ ᴀʙᴏᴜᴛ ʏᴏᴜ ⟶ on how someone feels about you, the queen of cups in reverse is about them feeling like you're clingy, they might feel unbalanced whenever you're around, if not, they might be the type of person who wants to have your attention all the time, could also mean they might have to walk on egg-shells around you.

ʚїɞ ʀᴇᴠᴇʀꜱᴀʟ ʜᴏᴡ ꜱᴏᴍᴇᴏɴᴇ ᴡᴏᴜʟᴅ ᴛʀᴇᴀᴛ ʏᴏᴜ ⟶ not a good card to get in reverse for this type of question, likely to get toxic, depressive, they will treat you like an option, like you're nothing. could get with you to get back at someone, you will know that you're a rebound, they will be very needy and sensitive, if not any of these, they can be someone who gives too much to the connection.

ʚїɞ ʀᴇᴠᴇʀꜱᴀʟ ʜᴏᴡ ꜱᴏᴍᴇᴏɴᴇ ᴘᴇʀᴄᴇɪᴠᴇꜱ ʏᴏᴜ ⟶ with the queen of cups in reverse, it means they would perceive you to be someone who cares about themselves too much. they would think of you as someone who is lush, and someone who doesnt know what to do with themselves, might think of you as a bimbo and as someone who is easily upset.

ʚїɞ ʀᴇᴠᴇʀꜱᴀʟ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄᴀʀᴅ ᴀꜱ ᴀ ᴘᴇʀꜱᴏɴ ⟶ as a person, the queen of cups in reverse is someone who likes to take care of themselves, but they can also be someone who depends on other people too much. could be a people-pleaser, and can be easily jealous. they're someone who can be manipulative, liking things to go their way so they're willing to do anything. they can be someone who rarely trusts other people though.

ʚїɞ ʀᴇᴠᴇʀꜱᴀʟ ꜱᴇx ⟶ for sex, the queen of cups in reverse could mean one of you might not know how to fuck. could mean someone might've been pushed into having sex, there's just a lack of intimacy happening here. not fun sex, someone climaxing too fast, the "passion" being embarrassing. not fulfilling.

ʚїɞ ɴᴇxᴛ ⟶ ᴋɪɴɢ ᴏꜰ ᴄᴜᴘꜱ

ʚїɞ ʙᴇꜰᴏʀᴇ ⟶ ᴋɴɪɢʜᴛ ᴏꜰ ᴄᴜᴘꜱ

ꜱᴜɪᴛ ᴏꜰ ᴄᴜᴘꜱ ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ

ɢᴏᴛʜɪᴄᴀᴅᴀ'ꜱ ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ

[mara-tevith-solo]

It Takes Two

Part 2 is here finally

Part 1, Part 3, Part 4

Pairing: Miguel O’Hara x enhanced ex-avenger reader

Warnings: Angst, happy ending, kinda possessive Miguel, love confessions, mentions of injuries and medical stuff, self gaslighting, they finally stop being idiots

Words: 1.8k+

Rated: PG-13

You woke up alone and in pain. Well, it wasn't exactly pain as you knew it, but it was definitely discomfort. The right side of your chest felt like it was woven with lead and your head felt like it was stuffed with cotton, adding to your over all discomfort "You gave us all quite a scare!" A Spider-Nurse chuckled as soon as he entered your room with perfect timing, scaring the crap out of your poor little self.

"What happened?" You asked, your voice rough and popping from disuse, the heart monitor beeping in time with your fright.

He began poking and prodding, measuring your condition with his eyes and ears "Doc Ock got an extremely good hit in, sent you flying based on what Lyla said. Bruised your spine, gave you a stellar concussion, and a decent laceration in your right pectoral. It'll scar, but you'll live and that's the most important thing." He was rambling, but his words made everything rush back to you, including a certain confession to a certain someone. You wanted the floors of HQ to swallow you whole and never let you go. The very last thing you'd ever wanted to do was bother Miguel with your feelings for him, make him feel awkward and put on the spot. You were certain that he didn't feel for you as you felt for him, that there was no way he'd let himself because of the Universal difference that stood between you. "Head hurt?" The nurse asked with a warm tone, making you imagine the soft smile that lurked under his mask.

"Ya, just a bit." You nodded a little too quickly for comfort, passing off your emotional turmoil as physical discomfort.

He nodded in understanding before pulling your hospital gown down just enough to check on your wound "Let me just see how this is healing and I'll go get a Doc so they can give you something for the pain."

"Thank you." You said it as sincerely as you could, pulling what looked like another smile from the Spider-Person.

"You're very welcome." His fingers were gentle as he removed the bandage, not letting the tape pull too much. The air was cold against the wound, making it sting ever so slightly "Looks good, forty-five percent closed on it's own. I'll go find a Doc for you." He put the bandage back before leaving just as suddenly as he'd arrived, his steps just as quiet as every other Spider's.

It didn't take long for the Doctor to come, her white coat pristine over her dark suit "Hello Y/n, I'm Doctor Petra. How are you feeling?" She asked in that measured tone all Doctors seemed to use.

"Uncomfortable."

She nodded with a thoughtful hum, quickly putting on nitrile gloves and pulling back the bandage for her own peek "Well, I can confidently say you can be discharged today, the wound is healing excellently on it's own. And I can give you some prescription grade Ibuprofen for the pain if you want."

"No, I've got some at home I can use."

"Ok. Light duty for a while I'm afraid. No missions or heavy lifting until after your follow up, ok?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Alrighty!" She hummed, taking off her gloves and throwing them to the bin across the room "You're all set to go! Your clothes are there on the chair, take your time getting dressed and holler if you need help! See you in two weeks!" She got up and left your room before you could ask when in two weeks you were supposed to go back, but decided to not press it as you slowly stood and shuffled over to your pile of clothes stiffly. They were clean, mostly, save for the blood on your undershirt and jacket, but there wasn't a speck of dirt to be found. Getting your shirt on was hell, your wound not wanting to let you raise your arm up enough so you had to get creative. Walking out of the hospital wing was relieving, though seeing Miguel waiting for you at the entrance was a whole new stress in and of itself.

He was still as a statue as he waited, stoic as usual with his arms crossed tightly over his chest. You felt like you were walking into a lecture as you stiffly closed the space between you until there were only two feet left "Hey..." You greeted first, you voice soft and light in trepidation.

"Ready?" His voice didn't match his visage, it was light and warm instead of flat, his eyes that shade of garnet that was quickly becoming your favorite. You didn't trust yourself to speak, instead nodded and quickly falling into step beside him. His hand immediately found itself a home on your mid-back, warm and soothing, anchoring through your jacket. Addicting. You wanted to sink into the contact, and you could swear he sensed that as his fingers spread to increase contact, taking up nearly an entire third of your back. He didn't say or do anything as you both walked towards his office, just coexisted in the same bubble as people stopped and murmured around you. "So, I suppose we have something pretty important to talk about." His words filled the messy space as soon as the doors closed behind you, his expression instantly changing to something akin to teasing amusement.

"Oh?" You asked, pulling away from him to sit on a desk, needing to take the pressure off of your hips and back.

He raised a brow at your bid of ignorance, the corners of his mouth barely curling in a restrained smile that was fighting for freedom "Mhmm." He took a spot barely inches away from you, between your knees. Your heart was racing wildly in your chest, in his ears, your throat jumping in time under his gaze. He found it adorable, how nervous you suddenly were. "Something about me being pretty when I smile?" His smile grew in spite of his attempts to curb it as your eyes widened, realizing that he did indeed remember everything you'd said, and confirming to him that you remembered as well. "And how you've had a crush on me for the last year." He watched as you looked away, mortified, a dullness lending itself to your eyes. It concerned him, making his suit recede from his hands as he reacted for you, broaching the last few inches as he gently grabbed your chin between his thumb and forefinger and brought your focus back to him "Hey now." He cooed low in his throat, trying to coax you out of the shell he saw you constructing.

"I shouldn't have said any of that. It's unfair of me to burden you with my feelings. I'm really sorry, I promise to not make it a problem for you." Your words were hasty as they tumbled off your tongue, still not looking him in the eyes.

He ducked into your gaze, worried as you tried to shut him out and shut the conversation down, made you look him in the eyes as he brow furrowed "Why would it be a problem for me?"

"For a multitude of reasons!" Your voice was suddenly loud and you were willingly meeting his gaze, eyes swirling with a plethora of emotions, so many that he suddenly wanted to kiss away and chase out of your mind with all the love he could give you for the entirety of his life. "We're from different Universes for one! And you deserve so much better than me!"

His head tilted to the side as your words rang in his head. Did you truly believe that you weren't good enough for him? If anything, he whole-heartedly believed he wasn't good enough for you! "What?"

"I wasn't even good enough for my ex! He threw me away as soon as he could, after everything! I'm broken! You can do so much better than me. You deserve so much better..." You sniffled, tears falling fast and hard from your eyes.

Both of his hands found your cheeks, his thumbs tenderly brushing away your tears before he was pressing his forehead to yours, sharing air with you, hoping that his thoughts would be shared with you "Eres mi cielo, mi alma. Te amo, más que a nada." He rumbled into the minimal space "You are everything to me, Y/n. You always will be." He vowed, making your tears multiply as the words you'd longed to hear were finally in the air between you "I'm not Steve, I'm not going to leave you for a 'what if' because there's no one better for me than you. Because I love you. I want to grow old with you, I want to raise children with you, make a life with you. And only you. Only if you want the same with me."

Your heart was stuttering as you processed his words, as you searched for a falsehood you already knew you'd never find. You were nodding before you had a chance to get the words out "Yes, for a million years, yes!" His smile was everything to you in that moment, so broad you were sure his cheeks would be sore later, his eyes so bright they were like red stars.

"Can I kiss you?" He asked softly, moving so close that his nose was caressing yours, sending goosebumps across your body with a rush of thrill and anticipation.

You nodded, not breaking contact as his breath fanned your face lightly "Please do, Miguel." He didn't waste a moment, pressing his plush lips to yours feather light, testing the waters. It felt like he was being electrocuted in all the best ways, a tingle rushing up and then down his spine as your lips pressed so deliciously against his. He couldn't tell who deepened it, all he knew was that in no time your lips were dancing together, following a rhythm only they knew as you both clung desperately to each other, his hands under your shirt, touching as much of your skin as they could, while your hands were tangled in his hair. He could barely pull away from you even a few inches to catch his breath, your pupils blown as wide as his no doubt were "I love you." You whispered softly, smiling up at him so prettily. He groaned a growl as he dove into another kiss, devouring your breathy giggles as you kissed him back. You were finally his, where you belonged, and he was going to make sure you remained by his side, he was going to love you like you'd never been loved before. He swore it to the Multiverse. To all the Gods. To every molecule in his being. He'd love you til the end of Time itself.                    

[tpwkluv]

Em! How we feeling about 1. "How could you? That was my mother's!" For sweet Angel boy Steve Harrington? (P.s. - hi. You’re lovely)

Thank you for the request, my dear anon; however, I have to tell you, this prompt broke my brain. I’m sorry it took so long, and I hope this lil thing does your hopes justice! I wrote so many different stories for this before settling on this.

As always, please feel free to leave any comments and critiques or just chat in general!

P.S. thank you, but not as lovely as you for fueling the creativity of little ole me.

tags/warnings: i do be cursing, small mention of losing a parent, infertility issues, miscarriage, angst, but a happy ending i promise

2.9k prompt: “How could you? That was my mother’s”; almost a decade’s worth of love threatened by a moment of insecurity, in which you have a secret and Steve finds out.

September, 1993

It’s been seven years since Steve asked you to be his girlfriend. Since Hawkins put itself back together with duct tape. A temporary fix, but enough to get by after most of the townsfolk packed their bags and never looked back. Your little group of outcasts had finally come to terms with how fast life can pass by, and Steve couldn’t handle another second without expressing just how much he needs you.

Five years since he asked you to be his wife. A late night stroll around the apartment complex. A routine for when you both couldn’t sleep. Hand in hand, staring up at the sky, and asking which memory had sunk its nasty teeth in this time. Sometimes the harder questions got ignored; instead, you both would gush about your dreams. To leave Hawkins, once the now college age kids got old enough, to get a start on that brood of Harringtons, and to finally get a good night’s sleep without fear of monsters hidden somewhere deeply below the bed.

You had finally let go of his hand to unlock the door and walk in when he called your name from behind. The boy was on one knee, sweatpants digging into the welcome mat and faded Hawkins High tee sticking to his skin (which he later blamed on the intensity of the walk, and never admitted to it being nerves). He thought you had never looked prettier. Backlit from the soft amber glow of the hallway light, hair falling down your shoulders, and that soft dumbstruck look on your face.

Now two years after the wedding, you’re sitting on the floor of your work’s bathroom with those stupid pink lines staring straight back at you.

“Hello?”

“Eds,” you sob. “I think I’m going to throw up and I can’t tell Steve because I know it’ll just break his heart again and I didn’t expect it to be posi—”

“Woah, slow down. Are you okay? Why would Steve get mad? What the hell are you talking about?”

You try to reply, but you can’t breathe. Hot tears rolling down your cheeks, chest heaving with grief and guilt.

“Deep breaths, in and out. Breathe with me. There you go. It’s okay.” The air creeps its way back into your lungs just enough for your tears to slow down . “Just head on over and we can talk about whatever is going on, okay?”

So you tell your manager you’ve caught a stomach bug and try your best to stay calm as you drive over to his apartment.

Eddie has been one of your closest friends since he moved into the trailer park across the street back in grade school. He was the first to know when Steve asked you out, huffing out how it was about damn time. And he was the first to know when Steve had proposed, but he claimed he already knew. “How do you think Steve finally got the balls to ask you? I told him he better shoot his shot now before some other gentleman with fantastic hair sweeps in and steals you away,” he had said with a wink and elbow digging into Steve’s side.

And now he was the first to know that you were pregnant—again.

You and Steve had been trying for kids since the night of your honeymoon, so excited to have a clan of your own. Your children would grow up never questioning whether or not their parents loved them. You reveled in the dreams of being there for your kids in a way your parents never were for either of you. Steve’s parents chose not to do so, but your mother had no choice. Her weekly hospital visits turned into staying there, which turned into hospice, and eventually losing her completely.

But the excitement of being ‘#1 Mom and Dad’ turned into heartbreak, rushed trips to the hospital, therapy sessions, and a newfound fear every time you missed a period and those pink lines popped up. So eventually you stopped trying. No use in causing more tears and more tension in the relationship when all the two of you could focus on was the dream you could never have.

This is not to say the sex stopped. You still participated in testing out the ol’ mattress, but you went on birth control and Steve often wore condoms. It was overkill, but it protected you both from adding anymore anguish to the ever climbing piles of trauma.

So how the hell did you end up here?

Shuffling up to Eddie’s door, you let out a ragged breath and knock. The faint sound of feet running across carpet pools out from beneath the door. Then those soft, doe eyes are staring down at you. “Oh, sweets, come on in”, he soothes, hands resting on your shoulders before pulling you into a hug.

“I thought you guys were using protection?” Eddie questions, setting down a tea mug on the coffee table in front of you, and making his way to sit next to you on the couch.

“We were! I mean—we do… so I don’t know how this happened,” you sigh out, resting your head atop your hands and rubbing your temples.

“Well,” he starts, placing a hand on his chest while the other reaches for the sky, “methinks this doth be a gift. A light shining out to sea on a stormy night!”

“Shut up,” you tease, lightly tapping his shoulder before cradling your head in your hands once more. “I really don’t think I can go through this again, Eds. I can’t tell Steve. I can’t put him through this again.”

“What? You have to tell him. He deserves to—”

“He deserves to be happy, Eddie,” you plead, cutting him off. “Steve was so excited to start a family. The one thing he wants more than anything, and—and I can’t give it to him.” Tears work their way out once again, and wrapping an arm around you, Eddie gently pulls you in to place your head on his shoulder. 

“I know it’s a shit situation, but I promise you’ll get through this. I have a good feeling this time,” he beams, softly laying his head against yours.

“Just promise me you won’t tell Steve? Not until I’m further along.”

“Scouts honor,” he sighs.

“Can you go with me to my first appointment? I’m going to call tomorrow and schedule it.”

“Oh my god! Of course! Do we get to hear the baby’s heartbeat and see it on that little pixelated black and white alien picture thing?”

“No, you dummy, it’s just going to be a blood test to make sure I am actually pregnant and see how high my hCG levels are, and then we’ll know how far along I am.”

“Oh,” he responded dejectedly. “Despite that being infinitely less cool, I’ll still be there. Are you sure you don’t want Steve to go? I feel like I’m entering his territory here, doll.”

“I’m sure, Eddie. I can’t put him through that again. It’s not that I don’t want Steve to know. I just want to save him the heartbreak, but I don’t think I can do it alone.”

November, 1993

It was unbearable keeping this from Steve. Two months of waiting for the spotting, the cramping, the pain of failing again. Sixty days of not telling the man you love most in this world. Weaving a web of lies for why you had to leave work early, why you couldn’t eat the dinner he made, why you wouldn’t have sex with him anymore, why you were going to see Eddie so much more than usual.

“Mrs. Harrington?” the nurse called. “Dr. Newfield will see you now. Follow me please.”

Deep breaths. In and out. Nothing to worry about. Just a 14 week checkup. Ya know, the one you haven’t made it to before. It’s totally okay. Deep breaths. Steve should be here. Oh my god he needs to be here. I need him here.

Eddie covers your hand with his, “Go on, it’ll be alright. I’ll be right here when you—”

“Oh my gosh! How could I forget? I have a dentist appointment today,” you blurt out, shooting up and walking towards the entrance. “Pregnancy brain! Please tell Dr. Newfield I’ll reschedule as soon as possible. Thank you!”

The bell rings out, announcing your departure, feet flying on the pavement before fumbling with the door handle of the Bronco. Hot tears roll down your cheeks, chest tight and unrelenting. Eddie grabs your hand, pulling it to his chest, “Remember to breathe, okay? Look at me. Don’t look at your feet, look in my eyes.”

Once he’s happy, Eddie drops your hand and places his own on your shoulders, “Alright, you going to tell me what the hell just happened in there?”

“I panicked,” you sigh, pulling your eyebrows together. “I’ve never made it this far along, and I realized I don’t want to go through this without Steve. As much as it terrifies me to know what is going on up in here,” you let out a teary chuckle, gesturing a finger around your stomach, “It scares me more to not have him here with me.”

“Well, I was going to save this until after the appointment, but since that is no longer happening, I think this breakthrough is a cause for celebration, too,” Eddie smiles. Reaching into the pocket of his jean jacket, he pulls out a rectangular velvet box.

Steve left early from work. Made up some lame excuse to his boss, but in reality he wanted to come home to you. You had called in today for a stomach bug and when he left this morning, you were shut in the bathroom with no signs of coming out soon. He wanted to stop by the store and get your favorites to surprise you, hoping this would make you open up to him. He hated how distant you were lately, and couldn’t help the doubt and jealousy that creeped in from how you were visiting Eddie more often than normal.

As he walked down the main street of town, he saw you and Eddie across the street by your car. Steve couldn’t hear him, but he could see the way he rubbed your arms and shoulders. He could see you beaming from ear to ear when he pulled a jewelry box out of his pocket. Eddie stepped behind you, delicately moving your hair to one side, and gently placing a necklace across your chest. Your hand came up to grab it, smiling down before turning around to hug him tightly.

Steve would like to think he was a level-headed individual, but his suspicions had been confirmed. You were cheating on him with your best friend. His best friend.

“I never thought I’d get to wear this, Eddie. Thank y—”

“What the hell do you think you’re doing with my girl, Munson?”

You turn around to see Steve barreling at you with a look you’ve never seen. He was furious, but there was something indiscernible in his eyes.

“Woah, Steve. Calm down, okay? What the hell is going on with you?” Eddie demands, cocking an eyebrow.

“Do me a favor and spare me the innocent bullshit”, he fumes before directing his attention to you. “So this is why you won’t talk to me anymore? Feeling guilty for going behind my back and sleeping with our best friend.”

Your mouth fell open. Shocked at just how wrong he had judged the situation. More tears already brimming at your waterline, in utter disbelief that he could ever think you were capable of hurting him like that. “Steve. That’s not what’s going on. How could you even think I coul—”

“Then why the fuck is he touching you like that and what the hell is this?” he asks, his hand reaching up to the golden heart laying on your chest and snatching it away before tossing it out towards the street.

Your eyes follow it and before you could even react, Eddie is already jogging to search for it, but not before shooting daggers at Steve. But he didn’t notice, his eyes were transfixed on yours.

“How could you do that, Steve?” you shout, tears now falling. “That was my mother’s!”

His brows knit in confusion, but the hurt and anger in his eyes didn’t waiver. “Then why have I never seen you wear it? In the almost ten years we’ve been together, I have never once seen you wear that”, he spat.

“Because I just got it from my father!” you sob. “The pendant was damaged, so I took it over to Wayne months ago and asked if he had any tools to fix it. I was finally able to wear it and you’ve ruined it!”

Steve’s brows finally relax and a look of guilt crosses his face as he sees you sobbing into your hands. He comes up to you and wraps his arms around your back, pulling your face into his chest. “Sweetheart, I am so sorry. I had no idea. I just assumed that was why you stopped putting effort into us.”

You pull your head back to look at him. “I would never, ever, do that to you”, you scolded before taking a deep breath, “But I have been lying to you.”

“O-okay?” he says, a look of confusion plastered across his features.

“I’m pregnant”, you state matter-of-factly. 

“You’re pregnant?” he questions, pausing like he hasn’t processed it fully. “You’re pregnant?! When did y—“

“Nope. I talk, you listen,” you plead, shooting a hand up to stop him from talking. He nods, a puzzled look forming and biting back a small smile.

“I took a test two months ago, and I didn’t want to tell you because I couldn’t stand to see that hope and happiness get ripped from you again,” you gesture to the look he has now. “But I also knew there was no way for me to do this on my own, so I asked Eddie to take me to my appointments until I knew this one was safe. That is why it has been so hard for me to speak with you. It’s been hell trying to keep this from you, and I have been dreading the day I wake up and it’s all over.”

You close your eyes and breathe as his hand comes to rest along your jaw. Opening your eyes, you see his own have glazed over and he’s sporting the dopiest smile. “How far along are you? Do you know what it is?”

“Fourteen weeks,” you whisper, afraid that if you say it too loudly it will all come crashing down, but the smile growing on his face brings some solace. “And I have no idea what they are yet. That’s actually what this vis—”

“They? As in plural? Like, more than one?” Steve asks with wide eyes, moving between your belly and your eyes. You can’t help but giggle as you look at him, and then he’s smiling at you. Those brown eyes full of love and adoration, wondering how he got so lucky. He wraps his hands around your waist, pulling you close and swaying you gently. Lost in your own dream, surrounded by your little family.

“I found it!” Eddie calls, holding out the necklace and walking back over. You both look over, smiles beaming as Steve lets go and reaches for your hand. “I take it everything has been resolved?”

“Thank you, Eddie,” Steve says with a small smile, grabbing the jewelry from his hands. “For this, and for taking care of my girl. I’m sorry I freaked out on you,” he murmurs, looking down at the ground and rubbing his hand against the back of his neck.

Eddie clasps a hand on his shoulder, “Water under the bridge, dude. I’m just happy you know now. Felt like I was going to have a heart attack from the stress.”

You nod vehemently in agreement with his last statement, and Steve chuckles at you both before turning to you, “Well, I’m sure these little nuggets will appreciate the relaxation.”

“These? There’s two?!” Eddie practically yells. “How did I not know this! Why didn’t you tell me?”

You let out a bright laugh, “Eddie, you would actually have to go back there with me to see it on the ultrasound.”

“No way. I’m not trying to see your lady bits,” he retorts, hands coming up to make an “X” and Steve joins in on the laughter.

“That’s not how ultrasounds work, Eddie,” you sigh, “and I didn’t tell you because I wanted it to be a surprise for you both.”

“Well, then let’s go back in there and find out what they are!,” Eddie demands, already walking back towards the office.

You turn to follow, but Steve turns you towards him and pulls your hand to his mouth to place a chaste kiss. “I really am sorry, baby. I know this couldn’t have been easy on you. And I promise, I will take this chain to a jeweler as soon as possible and have it fixed. I love you, sweetheart.”

“I love you too, Steve,” you say, placing a hand along his neck and bringing him down for a kiss.

Taglist: @enchantedlandcoffee

*edit: i forgot to do the tag list, so I added it on and please forgive me LOL. If you can’t read due to the topics or no longer want tagged i completely understand, just let me know!

[damnknoxandothernonsense]

knox’s teacher AU

David is a principal.

He scares all of the students because of his scheer size and general scariness of him. However, the moment a student comes up to him with an issue, he is doing everything in his power to help them. He is secretly a softy. His office is actually quite comforting.

additionally, Angel is the secretary that everyone likes, they have candy in a bowl for anyone that comes in. David acts like he is irritated with them, but they are secretly engaged (they wear the ring on a necklace). The students keep trying to set them up.

Asher is the Physical Education teacher.

He is specifically the one that everyone likes. Class with him isn’t a competition. It is a matter of not sitting on the sidelines. He makes it a safe space for all people of all types. Asher goes and argues the fact that “benchmark testing” in gym is beyond idiotic and has no measurement on how much a kid improves. He refuses to do any tests related to that. preac

Milo is the tech ed teacher.

He without a doubt refuses to go by “Mr. Greer”. He specifically tells the kids to call him Milo. David isn’t pleased with that, but when Milo says that “Mr. Greer” sounds like his dad. David doesn’t argue after that point. He lets the kids have creative liberty over their projects when they get to a certain point in their skills.

Lasko is an English teacher.

Lasko teaches specifically creative writing. He has lamps all over his room because he understands that LED lights trigger headaches. He has one of the aesthetic, cozy rooms. He constantly has kids in there hanging out and making themselves at home. He has a drawer full of a variety of drinks and snacks for his kids. He wants them all to be aware that he is a safe space.

Huxley is an Environmental/Biology teacher.

Hux is the kind of science teacher that is able to explain the different concepts in understandable ways. Rather than explaining it in the long winded terminology, he does projects and experiments to better cement his lessons in the classroom. He isn’t judgemental and has the most easy going personality. Every school in the area has tried to get him to transfer at some point. Not a single one has been successful.

Gavin is the health/anatomy teacher.

Okay, everyone knew that this was happening. However, he is honestly the best to fulfill this role. He would be able to handle it without making it uncomfortable. Gavin goes over consent, in fact it is the first topic discussed within his class. He teaches inclusive sex ed courses, as well as actual sex ed and offers ways to be safe. He is blunt about it, but he still makes jokes about things to lighten the mood. I wish I had him for sex ed instead

Damien is a math teacher

He likes definite answers. He likes certainty that comes along with math. There is rarely more than one right answer while everyone is scared of him at first, they realize that he is a lot like David. They seem so harsh at first and rough, but once they open up they are just big softies. He focuses more on the impact he has on his students and providing a positive role model rather than following the curriculum. Makes deals with his students for movie days for good grades on exams.

Guy is a theater teacher.

Tell me where i am wrong with this? I dare you to tell me I am wrong. He is the most qualified to be licensed drama queen and teach his students how to do it. He is not a theater kid, he is a kid in theater. There is a difference. He also plays the most fun acting games, not the uncomfortable cringy games that makes everyone hate acting classes. I would love him. He would have fun projects too, he would make options because not everyone wants to be in theater. He would also be super open and just tell his class every little detail. He would always have a coffee too.

Geordi is the on-campus therapist.

Offers so many actually helpful things not just “have you tried drinking water?”. Offers a safe space for students, allowing them to speak out without any sort of judgment. Would offer hugs if the kid is okay with it, because you can’t tell me that he wouldn’t be so comforting. He is close to the students’ age and is able to relate to them all with some of the experiences and actually gives good advice, is willing to sit down with parents/teachers to sort issues out. Checks in on students, plans fun events.

Elliot is an art teacher.

He loves clay and making non traditional things. He teaches the basics, but then he loves to see what the kids create. He does not grade based off of skill, but instead on how much effort they put into their projects. He also loves a good laugh with projects, and has students pick the music. At the end of the year, he presents the spotify wrapped so they are aware of the really interesting music taste that they all have. He is like a big brother to most of the kids.

Sam is the school nurse.

First of all, he has a room dedicated to those students that are sleep deprived. Would take so many classes to make sure he is up to date on different medical information as well as different signs for bad situations. Has protection in his office to give out in order to prevent teenage pregnancy. Has so many things for periods too because he understands how much those things are and he knows that not everyone comes prepared. He always looks so cozy. No judgment passed.

Vincent is history teacher.

He makes it interesting, like he sticks to the curriculum, going over the basics and vital information because he has to. However, he also has “Weird History Wednesdays” where he teaches events in history that are really weird. Makes it into a game, where he groups up the students and they have to guess what happens next. The prize is opting out of an homework assignment. He spends hours setting up teams. Has an organized spreadsheet. Yes this is based off of Puppet History. Don’t judge me.

Avior is the physics and astrology teacher:

He loves space, would take field trips to the nearby observatory. He would be the teacher that even the “outcasts” because he is able to make it such a fun environment. Refuses to give individual tests, instead gives group projects and group tests. He makes sure that everyone participates and ensures that it is a safespace. He teaches classes on the stories on the different constellations as well to break it up from the more serious class work.

if you want to read more of what I’ve written, you can find my masterlist here!

if you want to ask for something to be written, you can find my guidelines here!

[disarm-you]

Future Promises

Tuna-Tober Prompt: Drugged

Pairing: Eddie Munson x F!reader

Summary: You and Eddie toke up after a show while discussing your future.

Content Warning: marijuana usage

Word Count: 1482

A/n: I had a couple more prompts from the Tuna-Tober challenge but wasn’t able to finish them. I have an autoimmune disorder and it’s flaring up. If I get them finished in a reasonable time frame, I’ll post them as late submissions.

Happy Halloween to those who observe!

Thank you so much for reading! Gentle reminder that reblogs are the best way to support writers on here. XOXO

“Seriously though, you guys were amazing tonight. I know you like to joke but there is a huge improvement across the board: your vocal delivery is on point and Jeff’s guitar solo is creative.” You said, sinking back into Eddie’s bed. You lay there, watching in admiration as your boyfriend prepared the second blunt of the evening. You had the night off work and you spent it watching Corroded Coffin play at The Hideaway. It had been a while since you two had hung out, varying schedules and all that. So after the show, you two decided to split and celebrate in the privacy of Eddie’s bedroom. He had the first blunt already prepared, knowing beforehand that it would be used either in celebration, or to aid in licking his wounds.

Your eyes shamelessly wandered over his hands, admiring the way his thick digits were so gently breaking down the weed you two were about to share. Smoke hung heavy in the room but your heart felt light. Eddie provided sunshine in your life and you loved any opportunity to bask in it.

“Thanks babe. We’ve been practicing a lot more and I think we really worked some kinks out of a few of our songs.” He replied as he began to roll it up. You let yourself stare at the prominent veins in his hands as they wove up the top of his arms.

“You guys really have. I’ve missed you a lot lately but I’m really happy for you. I really feel like this is the year Corroded Coffin takes off. After you graduate, of course!”

“Yes, definitely after graduation.” He said, crawling back on the bed with the blunt in tow. “I noticed the way you were watching me over there. See anything you like?” He teased, playfully raising an eyebrow.

”Yeah. All of it.” You giggle, snatching the blunt from his hand, lighting it with the zippo you had in your pocket. Another wave of relaxation wafted over you almost as soon as the earthy smoke hit your lungs. You take another hit, bigger than the first, holding it briefly before blowing smoke rings upon exhaling.

”Show off.” Eddie teased, taking the blunt out of your fingers.

Contrary to popular belief you were smoking weed before you met Eddie. It was a nice escape from the tension you lived with. You would step out after helping your mom cleanup from dinner, slipping to the park where you would have a small bowl or two, relishing the peace before going back home to hide in your room for the rest of the night. Your parents were often too caught up in their own vices to notice that you were stoned. Plus, the experience was an added bonus that gave you an easy in with Eddie.

“Speaking of graduation, have you thought about what you want to do afterwards?” He asked, pulling another hit.

The question left a pit in your stomach. Graduation was a ways away but you knew it would be here before you were ready.

“I don’t know what I want to do when I grow up, Eds. I mean, I do know that I don’t want to be a cashier forever but it’s nice to be able to save up some cash. Long term though? It’s hard. Like I see my parents: my mom is a secretary and my dad is a supervisor. Neither of them seem happy. But then again no adults really seem happy. And I don’t want a life like that. I want passion and excitement not boredom and routine. I want a life I don’t have to escape from.” You say excidelty, before hitting the blunt. “ I’ve thought about college. I get good grades but I don’t know if my test scores are high enough to get in. And if I did, I couldn’t pay for it anyway.” You shrug, passing the blunt back to him.

“Well babe, what do you think about me and you making plans after we graduate?”

Your heart fluttered at the thought. You two had been dating since the beginning of your junior year but you were just as unsure about your romantic future as you were about your career. You are without a doubt head over heels in love with this man, but rock stars weren’t exactly known for their monogamy. However, Eddie did feel different than other boys. He was patient with you. He was kind and respected your boundaries. You two dated well over a year before having sex, never pressuring you for more than what you enthusiastically wanted to do. But most importantly he listened to you. He always waited for you to finish your sentences before he spoke. He remembered your favorite flavors and food preferences but also, it was more than that. It was like he could see into your soul. His own familial issues helped him understand yours and he provided solace that you couldn’t find in your home.

“I didn’t know that was an option. Have you thought about us after graduation?”

”Of course I do, babe. I love you.” He replied, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. The earnest in his eyes made your heart flip.

“I love you too, Eddie but I can’t help but worry that all this enthusiasm is only because we recently started sleeping together.”

“Hey,I was thinking about us long before any of that started! Don’t get me wrong, the sex is phenomenal with you but what we have is real. There’s a connection here that not a lot of people get to have. I’m not ready to lose that. I really think that you and I could get outta here and make a life for ourselves. You’re so smart and I would fully support your decision to go to school or a job. It’s your life and I want the best for you. But if you’re uncertain, Corroded Coffin’s going to need a manager and someone to help us on tour. I’d love it if you would come with me.”

Eddie’s words echoed in your mind, swirling with the weed floating in your brain. His promises laid heavy on your heart but stirred a lot of excitement, too. A future, wide open, with the person you love by your side? It was a dream come true. You weren’t used to good things happening to you but the weed you had smoked had you too relaxed to focus on that right now. You were feeling light, almost euphoric and you weren’t sure how much was from the plant and how much was from Eddie. The fact that he had been quietly thinking about a future with you in it made your heart swell. And being able to be together without sneaking about? There had been several weekend nights where the two of you had innocently lost track of time and you had to quietly wait in Eddie’s bedroom until Uncle Wayne went to bed. And of course, one not so innocent early morning where the plant lost power, so he was released early from work. He came home to find the two of you partially clothed in a compromising condition on the couch. That prompted an uncomfortable conversation about protection and a stern reminder that the walls are thin in their trailer.

“Truthfully Eddie, the thought of us leaving this rat hole excites me. But do you guys have a plan to tour? How does that even work?” You giggle as your high intensifies.

“We are going to start here in Indiana and branch outwards. We made new posters of us and we are going to hang them up around record stores and near newspaper stands. We can also put advertisements out on the radio. We just gotta get people to our shows but once we do, I just know we are going to take off. And our killer skills with your talents behind the scenes makes us un-fucking-stoppable.”

“I think we might actually be able to do this.” You said, eyeing up the blunt that was still half full. “I’m feeling really high right now, so I think we should have that conversation another time. Also, if you don’t mind can we put that out? If I keep smoking, I’m not going to be able to focus.”

“Oh yeah, of course babe. But what is it that you need to focus on right now?”

“This.” You swiftly reply, harshly pressing your lips against his.

Eddie was taken by surprise but swiftly returned your kiss after he leaned over to put out the blunt. Once extinguished, he brought both hands back to your hips. He massaged them as he kissed you deeply. His kisses deep and slow, filling you with a promise of an exciting future.

“I want you, Eddie.” You whisper, voice barely audible.

“You got me babe.”

[voidbeau]

I've been thinking about this a lot and have ranted to a friend to varying degrees about it every once in a while since early this year.

On one hand, I don't want to sound ungrateful when I talk about this, but...

I feel like being in a fandom has ruined me.

Or to put it better, I've let it ruin me.

And to clarify, I don't blame individuals of a fandom.

Nor do I really blame the idea of fandom itself the more I think about it.

It is most definitely a me thing, but being in a fandon has definitely helped to shed some light on some upsetting things about my brain.

Being in an environment where you get to share ideas and art about your favorite media- Something that's supposed to be for fun and to find community with others who share your interest!

For me, it's been a huge motivator for getting back into my art- which I believe I've mentioned before.

Up until the twomp Fandom, I've had lots of difficulties staying inspired and motivated to keep doing art regardless of how much I wanted to do it.

So finding a reason to do it again has been great!

I've been able to make pretty good improvements in my art abilities which is really nice!

But on the other end of things, I've lost the ability to just appreciate things the way I could if I was just an outsider looking in?

And I hate it because for whatever reason, my anxiety looks at fandom art as competition rather than something a fellow [insert interest] enjoyer put out for me to enjoy along with the rest of fandom.

I hate that mindset so much.

I don't want fandom to be a competition.

I don't think fandom should be a competition.

Inspiration to improve is one thing, but there's something very wrong if you're feeling a sense of threat in some way??? Like hello??? Are you okay???

It's ridiculous!

But anxiety likes to tell me I need to constantly be creating and making sure it's "original" or "unique" or else my value as a "creator" is worth nothing.

Which, again, is also ridiculous, because I'm not out here trying to "become something", I just want to have fun sharing my dumbass AUs and headcannons cause I want to have fun with the characters and the world I fell in love with!

But it doesn't stop the rancid pattern of thinking.

No matter how many breaks I take, I can come back feeling refreshed but the grasping hands of anxiety and shaky self worth tell me I need to constantly be working to maintain a semblance of value.

I need to work to "keep my place".

And that's dumb.

A fandom is a little neighborhood where everyone has their own little house and their own little garden tucked safely behind their own little white picket fence.

We're not being lined up and graded like slabs of beef.

I'm so tired man. I just want to have fun, but as time goes on I feel like the only solution to this issue is to leave the Fandom environment entirely.

Like No Face from Spirited Away.

But if I lose the "pressure" of needing to create art than I'm scared i'll fall back into not being able to create at all again.

I dont want to lose what I feel like I only just got back.

🫠

It feels super embarrassing to be struggling with these kinds of thoughts personally.

Cause it's like, "bro, who tf you think you are???"

There's so much of it that feels self centered, like it's all about me.

I need to be the best, I need to have coolest art and the best ideas!!!

I don't think that at all, granted. But it feels that way sometimes.

I don't like the idea of comparing myself to others. I don't think anyone should be doing that.

Comparison is the joy killer!!!

I much prefer the variety that a fandom brings to the table.

Each individual with an individual take on a world and its characters.

Everyone is so creative it's really Cool!!

I think it's fun to read and to see people bring that to life!

But I can't fully enjoy it like I want to cause the thoughts always be like,

"Why can't you be like that, huh?

You could be doing something with your time right now, you could be working in that idea you were thinking of.

You could be finishing that drawing you started.

What about that other thing you said you were going to do, huh?"

And if I get working on something, it's still not good enough,

"No! Not like that! Your art style is DISGUSTING. Throw that one away!

No No, any readers who stumble on this will never enjoy this. It's awkward and stilted.

Take it again or leave it!"

Like bro please, give a bug a break. I'm trying. 😰