#his evolution on the show just turned him into
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viktorthemachineherald · 2 days ago
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What actually happened to Jayce and Viktor in the end? And why didn’t Ekko’s Z-drive destroy everything within its blast radius?
TL;DR: the only timeline that could have worked was the one where Viktor gives Jayce the Acceleration rune, where Ekko invents the Z-drive, and where Jayce saves Viktor and gets his partner back.
Something we’ve seen pointed out is that the world rune that worked in this timeline was the Acceleration rune, which has the function of transportation through time and space. 
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Ekko’s Z-drive was built by inverting Jayce’s Acceleration rune (this is important later).
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We know from his experiments that the limit for reversing time is only 4 seconds. Any further back and it causes catastrophic harm to his surroundings. It’s implied that the further he overextends his Z-drive, the more disastrous the damage and radius of effect.
In the final battle against Viktor, we see Ekko overextend his Z-drive far beyond 4 seconds. Then, he yeets it at Viktor, whose mask is shattered from the impact.
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We know that turning back time beyond 4 seconds causes catastrophic destruction of the surrounding areas: Jayce and Viktor, and perhaps countless others should have been caught up in the blast. But instead, we see something different:
Time stands still for a moment, courtesy of the boy who shattered time. 
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Now things happen all in a manner of seconds: In the astral plane, we see Viktor comment on the anomaly that Ekko has created.
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It’s something that Viktor as smart as he is, couldn’t have conceived— leave it to Ekko (and lest I forget, Heimerdinger and alt-Jinx) to show them all up.
This is debatable, but I firmly believe that Viktor with his awareness of all time and space, could have escaped or even survived the explosion.
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It’s only Jayce, the only person who could show him what he showed him, that gets through to him in the end and convinces him to give up his Glorious Evolution.
"In all timelines, only you can show me this". Ekko is the catalyst but Jayce was the key.
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Jayce returns the Acceleration rune to Viktor which kicks off a chain of events. The souls under Viktor’s control are freed from his grasp. Back in the real world, and back to the explosion, we see the following happening almost simultaneously: 
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The blast from the Z-drive extends from Viktor’s reach to Jayce’s
The Acceleration rune embedded in Jayce’s wrist starts to glow from being activated by Jayce and Viktor in the astral plane
Jayce and Viktor are absorbed into the gem and the gemstone blips out of existence 
Recall that the Z-drive was created through an inversion of the Acceleration rune. To multiply something by its inverse, is to divide it by itself. The Acceleration rune multiplied by the Inversed Acceleration rune, cancels out the effect of the other: nullifying both the anomaly from the Z-drive but also the rune.
This explains why there was no larger explosion. Viktor and Jayce (who chose to stay) sacrificed themselves and took themselves out of the equation. Jayce and Viktor were the anomalies— just like the Z-drive should not have existed, neither should have Hextech.
Through all the timelines and permutations of runes that Viktor tried, the only combination that could have worked was in the timeline with the Acceleration rune. It couldn’t have worked if it was any other rune, if Ekko had never invented the Z-drive, or if Jayce had never convinced Viktor to give up his path of destruction, and got his partner back.
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In short: Boy Savior saves the day; Love Wins
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Arcane season 2!
Just watched Act 3 and I’m not ready to say goodbye after all that happened…
(Spoilers under the cut)
Hextech really was the problem all along. Ep 7’s alternative timeline is proof of that. Without it, both Zaun and Piltover would be at peace…
Mylo, Claggor, Vander, Silco, Benzo, they’re all alive and Powder never turned into Jinx in that timeline. The only bad thing there is Vi’s dead. What could’ve been…
Jayce’s actions make sense now, goes to show that you shouldn’t rush to judgement before you know the whole story.
TimeBomb kiss! TimeBomb kiss! I ship them so much!!! 🤩🤩🤩
Heimerdinger is no more. But at least he lived a life of peace in another universe… Rest in peace, Professor.
Mel’s fully embraced her mage status, her magic looks amazing, and her new look! She’d make a good in-game champion…
Viktor’s fully embraced the glorious evolution now, and turned his followers mechanical. Low key kinda scary though… his new look must be the rework Riot was talking about for his in-game self!
Warwick NOOOOOO! 😭😭😭 Vander is gone, only the beast remains, with a mechanical twist… RIP Uncaged Wrath of Zaun.
Ambessa really was the villain all along, even if her intentions were misguided. She truly deserved a warrior’s death…
They did it! CaitVi did the deed! I’m so happy for them! They truly belong together, far from being oil and water… ❤️❤️❤️
Jinx took Isha’s death hard. Someone give her a hug… 🫂
We lost some good people in the war, Loris, that Jinxer. But it was worth it now that the good guys won…
Zaun entered the fight in a truly epic fashion! The twin cities are united! 🎉🎉🎉
The Boy Saviour did what he meant to do! He shattered time and saved the day! Ekko FTW!
The mage that saved Mrs Talis was Viktor?! It all makes sense, he traveled across timelines giving young Jayce a crystal with a different rune to save the future, and only one was successful. MIND. BLOWN. 🤯🤯🤯
What happened to Jayce and Viktor? They used the crystal, but at what cost? Maybe we’ll never know… also, they hugged! He truly has forgiven him…
JINX NO!!!! She sacrificed herself to save her sister from Warwick! Guess Isha won’t be lonely up there… RIP Loose Cannon… 😭😭😭😭
CaitVi got their happy ending. But what’s next for them? Fanfic writers, you know what to do…
Maddie betrayed Piltover?! Guess all the hate was rightfully placed, especially now that she’s dead…
Swain? What’s your crow doing here?! Watching Noxus retreat? I don’t trust you…
This show was amazing and it ended on a truly epic note. I’m really gonna miss it. Thank you, Riot and Fortiche for giving us a story we’ll never forget…
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cowboy-kidd · 2 days ago
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cg!viktor headcannons ᯓᡣ𐭩
x - x - x
—DNI NSFW—
· likes keeping you close to him. driving you into his side when he wants to feel your warmth against his harsh purpled skin. He'll take your hand in his own or brush your hair behind your ear while you're sleeping. He mostly feels alone so having a little one beside him that relies on him in ways opposite of the public he’s saved- that is like him in ways he can’t describe, similarly to Sky but untethered.
· whispers about what it’s like being shrouded in universal colors. the comforting things he’s seen told to you like fairytales before you go to bed.
· goes stargazing every so often with you. points to the thousands of constellations up in the sky and identifies them all for you.
· let’s you sit in his lap while you mess with his fingers. comparing them to your own. your natural curiosity is something he always indulges in.
· when it rains he likes to sit outside with you and just enjoy the sound- you bounce around in the wet grass before coming to sit in his lap and lean against his chest while he cards a hand through your wet hair
· when he’s meditating (and thus floating) he leaves you on the ground- you jump to get to him but fail. when he finally comes back down you run into his legs and try to get him to pick you up—to which he complies—a fond, loving expression on his face. you just pout.
· whenever you get up to something and he can’t parse out what you’re doing before you do it, he gives you this look of confused adoration that turns joyous when you produce the outcome. sometimes it’s a silly face or you dancing to imaginary music.
· calls you Nabi and vice versa- a meaningless little term of endearment from nowhere.
· sometimes accidentally cryptic. he goes about the space talking to what seems to be air and then he lays his eyes on you and realizes he’s frightened you. he cuddles you up to him and whispers into your ear how’s he’s sorry- that he had no intention of frightening you and that whatever he said wasn’t important. still, you ask questions- and he’s always amazed at your bluntness. he tries to articulate the answer the best he can but its difficult without his own extensive knowledge
· calls you little one all the time. If he wants to be extra sweet he’ll place a gentle finger on the soft of your jaw and trace it to your chin or tack on a “my” in front of it. You hate it sometimes because it feels like he’s making you smaller than you actually are with his all knowing, omnipotent shtick but once he starts teaching you things it’s much more than that.
· teaches you many things. the art of watching and waiting- patience, and finally, the arcane. shows it to you and allows for you to touch it- pulls you out before it can truly do any damage and holds you during your recovery. He wants to turn you- it’s the next step in evolution. but he can't, longing for a human connection that isn’t devouring one another for the purpose of a greater life understanding. He wants to know you through you- and finds your tantrums less tedious than before.
· won’t see you get hurt- is almost too gentle, too protective of you when it comes to playing with other kids and other people taking care of you- even if he is just another extension of him. he likes seeing you through his own eyes- not theirs.
· tells you about jayce- just not by name. this amazing man who wanted to help the world, just like he’s doing, who wanted to give people opportunities which would otherwise not be afforded to them because of their social standing. he describes him all the time with a fond look on his face.
· doesn’t play with you a lot, but likes putting stuff together with you. little prototypes of boats or trains that you cart around- distracted while he does the real work.
· likes reading while you do your own thing- maybe taking a nap, sitting together in silence with the steady sound of arcane power reverberating inside of him and through the space, or maybe with the steady rhythmic flip of book paper. maybe he hums.
· you try to get him to take naps with you. your constant pulling on his robe and never wavering stubbornness convinces him to lay down with you. he ends up dropping off before you do- in a space similar to where he is when he’s meditating. You touch his face while he’s sleeping, exploring his smile lines and deep purple bags underneath his eyes before kissing him on his cheek and falling asleep yourself.
· he’s very patient with you, even when you’re not so patient with yourself. he’ll gently take you by the wrists and hold them close to his heart so you won’t beat on yourself anymore. his eyes always hold so much emotion- as do yours (he comments on them regularly.) “how am i supposed to protect you from yourself?” he asks you one night, you’re head on his legs and the rest curled up underneath the blankets. you just shrug and bury your head into his calf, a show of kiddy frustration that just makes him sigh and run his hands through your hair.
· you’re always eager to help with his experiments. you don't have the most steady hand but you’re good when it comes down to it. he can ask you to crush up some herbs or pour a a pre measured ingredient into what he’s making. he always helps and he mostly does it so you feel included in whatever he’s doing.
· never any big lights in your spaces. always candles or glowing orbs in your space- maybe the whiteness of the arcane that engulfs the place in light, but it’s never so bright as to where you can’t sleep- Viktor makes sure of that
· likes hearing you laugh- he doesn’t ever do any strenuous activities but he can make finger puppets and tell you stories like never before
· very good with routines and such. likes making sure he’s putting you down for a nap at the right time and generally doing good at parenting you.
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oddp1ant · 3 days ago
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Talking here instead of in the tags on this post because. My head is steaming.
This version of Viktor is 1) human and 2) older. In my dream reality, this implies that the de-arcanified version of Viktor we see at the end of ep 9 survives, regains physical form but is forever changed by the arcane = a mage, who eventually travels through time/realities to give Jayce the guidance he needs as a child and in the post-apocalypse wasteland, effectively securing the timeline in which he (and the rest of the world or w/e) survives, making it a closed loop. I like to think Jayce is with him for most of it, both of them figuring out their new magical interdimensional existence together.
Ofc, the take I've been seeing most of so far is that Jayce and Viktor were both destroyed in that final moment. I mean yeah, being at the center of hexcrystal/gem/shard activity like that tends to do that to people, as we've been repeatedly shown, but they were also in the weird metaphysical arcane-space when it happened so I'm honestly not sure the same principles apply. If that is the end for them, I guess mage-Viktor was just a product of some other reality where that was the trajectory for him, who due to his magic was able to see all the infinite Bad timelines and took it upon himself to interfere with this one to prevent them, likely nullifying his own and himself in the process. This is cool too, but makes mage-Viktor feel a bit like a random Deus ex machina since we have very little sense of where he came from or how he became what he is.
I may be delusional, but I feel like there's hope in Jayce's face when he sees mage-Viktor. Seeing him human again, seeing him older (something I am personally in tears over - Viktor getting to grow old ;;;;) seems to give him hope that there's a way back, AND a way forward for them!!! Idk. I'm crazy.
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[Screencap credit to @lesbian-sansa]
Edit to add: I guess my mind skipped over the option that mage-Viktor is the post-apocalyptic reality's Viktor, who presumably went full glorious evolution, saw that it sucked, and somehow turned himself back to a human form. I guess that lessens the Deus ex machina issue and is also very cool bc we love a villain who spends a thousand years bored and lonely in the desolate wasteland of their own creation until deciding the only way to fix this involves timefuckery and empowering the heroes to take you down before it can happen. There's something so "go sit in the corner until you've calmed down" about it. Also implies that Viktor had the ability to come back to himself even without Jayce, but not before it's too late. Always preventing each other from stepping off the ledge at the last moment, these guys.
Idk which theory I prefer, I think I'll have thoughts about this show until I die
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yuzathewitch · 2 days ago
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The Value of the Name: Viktor and Jayce from Arcane.
SPOILER WARNING FOR THE LAST ARC!!!
I haven't seen people talk a lot about the meaning behind the names of Viktor and Jayce, so I'll do everyone the honors:
Viktor - Viktor means conqueror. The question is what is he conquering? From the start Viktor has defined his happiness and life value through what he can offer others due to his negative self image of imperfection because of his illness and disability. This is why he was so willing to join Jayce in the Hextech project and why losing Sky, someone who not just saw but agreed with Viktor's vision, caused him such guilt (no it was not romantic, that was made clear through Viktor's denials of Sky when she was alive. And further proven when the imitation of Sky in the hexcore said Viktor wouldn't miss their talks). Initially, I believed this was why Viktor's "Glorious Evolution" was so essential to the story because it was supposed to represent Viktor leaving all that made him human behind in favor for perfection that he always seemed to chase growing up. He yearned to be seen as an equal and not as something less because of his body. And this is where the Arcane story line completely PROVED ME WRONG AND BLEW MY MIND!!! When Jayce said, "you were never broken Viktor" I knew I had been seeing it all wrong from the start. What Viktor had really been "conquering" from the start wasn't his humanity, rather it was his negative perception of himself that he would never be enough to be loved by another. Through Jayce's constant presence even as Viktor committed atrocities and pushed him away and love for Viktor (and yes it was love, I will fight you on this point) Viktor's mask broke. Viktor was seeing for the first time that he didn't need to be "more" to be loved by another, particularly by Jayce, the person he's no doubt loved most throughout this whole show. It was in the moment that Jayce and Viktor held hands and embraced as they held the rune that I realized THAT was the real "Glorious Evolution" Viktor had sought all along. It was an embrace from a loved one, leaning their foreheads together, the ultimate demonstration of love for the people of Zaun, that Jayce finally came to embrace as part of Viktor along with all his imperfections that made Viktor who he is. It was through Jayce's love for Viktor that Viktor finally conquered all his doubts about his physical body and himself.
Jayce - Jayce means healer or cure. It's no accident that Viktor went through a healer messiah arc while Jayce tried everything he could to stop him. Jayce is the duality of man. He is the type of man you expect not to understand the circumstances of another. He is handsome, has a strong body, upbringing in a rich city, and connections to people of power. All the key elements that usually transpire in making a character blind or uncaring to those of a lower status. Yet, what people often fail to see is that version of Jayce wouldn't exist if the mage (Viktor) didn't give him the rune as a child, if Viktor didn't stop him from jumping, if Viktor wasn't his constant support throughout his journey in life. It's through knowing and loving Viktor that Jayce learns and empathizes with the people of Zaun, and how they've live their lives. It's through knowing Viktor that Jayce wants to fight for the rights of others and bring the world justice. And it's through loving Viktor that Jayce ends this war that was of his and Viktor's making. It's through healing Viktor by admitting he has always loved him for all he is, including what Viktor saw as his own weaknesses (poverty, disability, illness) that Jayce is able to cure Viktor of his doubts in himself, and how in turn Jayce saves not just Viktor, but the world.
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respectthepetty · 1 day ago
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Do you think people can change colors with time? Like entirely?
Do I think characters can change colors?
I've written about this before and my thoughts were that a character's color may evolve, but I'm hesitate to write that a character's color changes.
My take is that a character can hide his color or the color will emerge as the story progresses, but I don't think a character can simply change his color. For example, Elyes in my Wattpad BL, Bad Guy My Boss, started the series so dark that he was black.
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But he has lightened up throughout the series.
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He didn't go from a Black Brooder to a Blue Boy because he is still dark. He is just lighter than before even though his face might not always show it.
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This was the same evolution Jane from The Trainee went through since he started the show such a dark blue that it came across as black.
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But by the end, he lightened up.
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But for Jack from Jack & Joker, it's been the opposite.
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He got darker.
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But the blue is still there.
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In 7 Days Before Valentine, Sun finally realized he was a horrible person and changed for the better while Q came to terms with what was haunting him.
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So they didn't flip colors, but helped each other evolve by learning to balance the good with the bad.
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And the lesson of balance is something Black Brooder Haoran learned in Happy of the End. He wasn't going to change everything about himself because his traumatic past happened to him, but he was able to realize he could add color and happiness to his life moving forward.
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In the first post when I wrote about the evolution of a color, I used Aoki from the Japanese version of My Love Mix-Up as an example of a color emerging over time since he moved from cream to yellow to orange
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But even in the Thai version of My Love Mix-Up, Kongthap and Atom were a Blue Boy and Orange Oddity.
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They combined their colors.
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Then turned them into green when Atom was still trying to figure out his color since he went through the same evolution as his Japanese counterpart (yellow -> orange).
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And they ended the series in brown.
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Their color is still part of their couple colors, but they have blended them together because a character's true color will always be present like Johan from Fourever You.
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He comes across as a Brown Boy.
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But it's just because he doesn't want to show his Red Rascal-ness.
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Even in The Loyal Pin where I think Blue Beauty Anin wears green when sad or life gets rough,
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She is still blue.
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And always has been.
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So even though I have never watched nor played Pokemon and understand absolutely nothing about it, I think of a character's color like a Pokemon evolution. Things might change, but at their core, they are the same.
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And that's part of the reason I like colors so much because they are philosophical in a sense. We can transform ourselves, but our core remains the same. We shouldn't want to change everything about ourselves, but we should want to be lighter. We shouldn't completely give up who we are for someone else, but should instead blend our lives with someone else's. We should strive for balance not extremism. We should be like Pokemon.
We should evolve.
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stardustpr1ncess · 2 days ago
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Desperately trying to get the words out in order to articulate why I really don't like what they did with Arcane season 2 but, I just keep wanting to say "not good." Like at one point I audibly yelled; "WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON?" but not in an amazed way, in a really fucking annoyed way. May break it up into multiple posts because this is taking longer to process than the other acts.
So... I guess the most encompassing problem is the scope just became WAY too big. The first season, despite having Lean that can turn you into a giant purple monster and magic-powered weapons, was very grounded in its #1 plot #2 locations and #3 characters. Let's discuss what season 2 did with each of these categories.
"The" plot. There's too many of them at this point, barely related to each other, and not enough fucks to go around for each one. The main plot however, would I guess be Viktor and the Glorious Evolutions™.
Firstly the floating in space shots to represent his conciseness connected to everyone's and how he's so ascended looks stupid and boring. Just straight up, they're silly to look at. Secondly the concept that he's now using some unknowable cosmic power to make all life a hive mind that will infect and destroy the planet along with turn everyone into the coolest looking mannequin is just so... WHY?! Like if I told you that's the s2 a3 climax 3 years ago you'd spit in my face (would not wipe it towards my mouth like Caitlyn tho that absolute horndog). The show was a political dispute between an oppressed city who wanted independence from a really wealthy and powerful city. Now it's for the sake of not only the world but like, EVERY REALITY NOW?!
Gonna try to make the other 2 points quicker but fuck there's so much going on.
Locations. Season 1 had Zaun, Piltover, and essentially just mentions of Noxus. Season 2 we have MULTIPLE DIMENSIONS MOTHERFUCKERS WOOOOOOOOO! Look I'm sorry if these points are articulated a lot worse than my prior essays but I'm running out of ways to say it's dumb because it's stupid lol. Within 7 episodes after the (probable) start of a civil war between 2 cities... There's now an infinite number of realities. Just the most insane stake raising they could've done, with a season not even 10 episodes long.
Too many characters for this post so again I'll focus on Viktor since he's now the main antagonist and, protagonist? Him being the wizard that saves Jayce, along with EVERY Jayce in EVERY reality, is simply something that did not need part of the budget put towards it. Genuinely just, the wizard did not need fleshing out. The multiverse in a contained 2 season show did not need to be this crucial last second. This is like if Optimus Prime showed up in season 3 of Avatar, it's just so pointless and diminishing of the story that came before.
So yeah needless to say, I thought this season was terrible. But hey, I'll probably buy the steelbook anyway.
Thank you for reading.
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finalgirlsamwinchester · 7 months ago
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thinking about pilot draft dean harrison again
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spotsupstuff · 8 months ago
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Cap's got a new voice claim! feat. a tiny bit of Sparrows n her's unchanged vc because 1. it's cute to hear them together and 2. I snorted. The vibes are so different
[songs: So Familiar by Jean Castel and Driving Myself Home by Rose Betts]
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cherrysnax · 1 year ago
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Demeter is afraid of bats so their main villian is gonna be this like. mad scientist who prolly created the spiders that bit her who is prolly experimenting on themselves to become some sort of bat creature.. like man-bat and the lizard mixed together but I don’t think this guy is in anyway sympathetic. he’s obsessed with evolution, he’s bored of humanity he’s prolly obsessed with spider-man (whichever spider-man exists in this universe is probably going to die or sumn 😭)
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imastoryteller · 1 month ago
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Understanding Morally Gray Characters in Storytelling
Definition and Core Characteristics:
Complex and Ambiguous Morality: Morally gray characters exhibit traits and make decisions that do not fit neatly into the categories of 'good' or 'evil'. Their actions and motivations often blend aspects of both.
Humanized Flaws: They possess human flaws, which make their actions and decisions relatable and believable. These flaws often drive their complex behavior.
Realistic Motivations: Their motivations are multifaceted and realistic, often stemming from personal experiences, traumas, or societal pressures.
Importance in Storytelling:
Adds Depth: These characters add depth and richness to the narrative, providing a more nuanced and realistic portrayal of human nature.
Creates Tension and Conflict: Their unpredictability and complex morality create tension and conflict, driving the plot and engaging the audience.
Reflects Real Life: By portraying characters with both good and bad qualities, stories can reflect the complexity of real-life moral decisions.
Examples and Their Impact:
Walter White from Breaking Bad: Initially a high school chemistry teacher diagnosed with cancer, Walter turns to manufacturing methamphetamine to secure his family’s future. His descent into criminality and moral compromise makes him a quintessential morally gray character.
Severus Snape from Harry Potter: Snape’s actions and allegiances are ambiguous throughout much of the series. His ultimate loyalty and sacrifices reveal a deeply complex character motivated by love and regret.
Creating a Morally Gray Character:
Blend Virtues and Vices: Give your character a mix of admirable qualities and significant flaws. This balance helps create a sense of realism.
Motivations Over Actions: Focus on the character’s motivations rather than just their actions. Understand why they make certain decisions, even if those decisions are morally questionable.
Consequences and Growth: Show the consequences of their actions and allow for character growth or regression. This evolution keeps the character dynamic and engaging.
Impact on the Audience:
Empathy and Engagement: Morally gray characters can evoke empathy from the audience, as they see parts of themselves in the character’s struggles and decisions.
Moral Reflection: These characters prompt audiences to reflect on their own moral beliefs and the complexities of right and wrong.
Discussion and Debate: The ambiguous nature of morally gray characters often sparks discussion and debate, making stories more engaging and thought-provoking.
By understanding and effectively using morally gray characters, storytellers can craft richer, more engaging narratives that resonate deeply with their audience.
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laroserie · 6 months ago
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— Various x-men characters, baking with reader
— characters ; Scott Summers. Rogue. Logan Howlett.
— warning ; no particular tw. author is not great at baking but he had a baking phase so. very sweet / fluff and self-indulgent. can be seen as platonic or romantic. reminder that author has not read the comics (only saw the films + is watching the animated series, xmen evolution and 97) and doesn't know much about some characters ( ex Rogue ) so author is doing his best to characterise them. author has favorite and it's shows. author says a cake count as a pastry and a pastry is basically any baked goods (if you do not agree. soryr that suck)
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– Scott Summers.
Scott seems to be the kind of guy to be very open to baking, depending on what you want to bake.
Simple things like, cookies or a chocolate cake ? Sure. He is your man, he will be very happy to bake with you.
Now if you want to do something more complicated like, macarons or hell a pie, he will pat your shoulder and say 'Good luck with that' and walk out of the room. He is not even attempting to bake things that are too hard.
Why should he, when he can make simple things that taste good. There is no need to try some extravagant bakeries that most likely won't end up being very tasty the first time.
But with enough coercion and 'begging' (which you could call 'annoying him to no end') he will concede, but don't get him wrong - he is not at fault nor taking responsibility if it end up being disgusting.
Scott is the type to be very commending even in the kitchen, he is still the 'leader', here he will give you instructions and let you do it - until he does it himself because 'you aren't doing it properly' (he is trying to fix this habit up, don't get too angry at him).
He is also the type to follow the recipe and measurements extremely close, but if he's, for example, measuring flour and there is a bit too much but you have your back turned, he'll just let it be, let it slide, because no one else but him is aware of it, so it's fine !
He is still fun to bake around with, of course, but, he is still very, ... himself while doing so.
Once you are done, Scott is most likely to let you have the first bite - he is staring you down waiting to hear if you like it or not before trying for himself.
If the outcome isn't exactly the greatest - Scott will make it his personal mission to master it. He will not be beaten by something as simple as a pastry.
– Rogue.
If you have Rogue to bake with you, she will be overjoyed. She could be so happy that you want to bake with her, baking is an activity you usually do with people you are close to, so in her eyes you wanting to bake with her, show that you see her as someone you are close to in the very least.
She'll tell you to wait a few seconds, be gone and come back with a binder with handwritten families recipes and ask you if you wanna try one of them.
Unlike Scott, she is the type to not really care about measurements, she try to follow the ones from the recipes but if there is a bit too much flour, she won't scoop some out of it, because after all, that shouldn't change the outcome right ?
But that is, if you follow a recipe, if you don't ... let's just say there will be enough cakes - or whatever you both made - for weeks. She isn't really great at guessing how much is too much or how much is not enough.
She is absolutely the type to tease you while baking, if you are making something that requires meringues, she will do the meringue test (the meringue test is that if you take the bowl it's in and flip it upside down and nothing drop - it good, if it drop it's not) but not take any precautions, like doing it over the sink or counter. She will give you small heart attack.
Even if you don't really follow the recipes and have to change a few ingredients in the middle of the process because there isn't enough or because you didn't have it, the outcome will taste quite good most of the time. Rogue, will go and make everyone in the manor have a taste - because everyone should have a bit of what you both spend time on.
– Logan Howlett
Okay, now, baking with Logan is something that could only happen once in a blue moon. If you ask him to bake with you, he won't answer you and just give you a look that scream 'do i look like a fucking baker to you ?'.
Now that said, if you do go on your plan of baking - without him - there is a high chance that he will watch you do so, he will lean on a counter and watch you go about your baking.
He will comments on what you are doing and says snarky remarks about what you are doing - that's in his opinion - wrong.
Logan may help you when you are struggling - you are supposed to mix something together but it's a bit too hard for you, he will extend his hand and tell you to give it to him. But that's as far as he will go - and giving you the sugar that's in the cabinet next to him.
If you are making something like cookies, he will take one without asking, because after all he 'assisted' you (told you, you really sucked at mixing eggs and flour and telling you to be more organised when you bake because you are making one hell of a mess).
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defectiveporcelaindoll · 4 months ago
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Chapter III: So High School
“Bittersweet sixteen suddenly”
series masterlist previous chapter
pairing: post-prison/ cm: evolution Spencer Reid x BAU AFAB!Reader (I like to think this is where Spencer is during the current seasons.)
series synopsis: an unsub with a taste for couples and power imbalances leads Doctor Spencer Reid not only back into the classroom but down the hypothetical aisle with the BAU's newest Probie for an undercover assignment that may change his life.
cw: age gap (Spencer is 42, reader is 24 in chapter 1), Use of y/n's (I'm sorry, I know l'm sick of it too.), fake marriage, romance romancing, kisses and touches but no smut (yet…maybe) ; Reader is feisty and flirty; Spencer is anxious and has an aggressive outburst; female reader she/her pronouns, and mentions of typical CM violence.
wc: 2.7k (they just keep getting longer and longer)
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“Okay. Classes are canceled, if anyone asks, you’re sick. I called Emily, let her know we won't be working tonight. Uh, what else- oh! I got us a reservation at the Glass Garden. I think that might be fun, and I got us a table at a restaurant that has really great reviews,” he called from his place on the sofa. Hearing the bathroom door open, he turned, his breath catching in his lungs. In the backlight of the bathroom, Spencer Reid almost believed he’d seen an angel standing in his living room in a sundress.
“Oh- um, you look really pretty- not that you aren’t always pretty, obviously you must know that you’re beautiful but I just—in comparison to when you were crying… you’re…” Any attempt to save himself from the awkward hole he’d dug himself into died on his tongue as Y/N giggled. Her laugh was like a ray of sunlight, melting parts of Spencer’s heart he’d long forgotten.
“Okay, so I’m sick,” she gives him her best fake little kid cough, causing him to roll his eyes. “We’re off duty and you made us plans…oh, and I guess I clean up pretty good for a girl who just had a meltdown against our front door.”
“Very well… for a girl who had a meltdown against our front door,” Spencer nods, his cheeks beginning to ache from the smile that’s been plastered on his lips since she entered the room.
Once they were off campus, the couple let out an exhale neither were aware they'd been holding, away from prying eyes allowed to simply exist as individuals for the first time in weeks.
“You said we’re going to a glass garden?” Y/N asks, fiddling with the sleeve of the cardigan Spencer insisted she bring as they make their way down the highway.
“Yes! The Chihuly Garden,” she smiled, loving the way his features lit up with such excitement. “It’s supposed to be this insanely beautiful collection of really intricate and colorful glass sculptures. I’ve always wanted to see it but we never have time when we’re in the city for a case. Actually, I saw one of the artist's pieces in London—god, it had to be almost twenty-five… years ago.”
Spencer’s heart dropped to his stomach, the excitement in his voice dying with the last words, his hands tightening on the steering wheel. His age was showing, and this feeling was something he’d never experienced before. For nearly twenty years, Spencer had been the youngest person on the team. Even at forty-two years old, he still was the baby until Y/N joined. Was this how everyone else felt, talking to him about ‘the good ole days’ for all those years?
Y/N glanced over at him, a soft sympathetic smile taking her lips. In the three weeks she’d spent in such close proximity to Spencer, she’d picked up on a few of his tells. Right now, she could see the wheels turning in his mind, convincing him he’d ruined things and debating addressing the difference in their ages.
“Spence—”
He didn't respond, his mind still running rampant until he felt the pressure of a hand on his thigh, pulling him back to reality and causing him to inhale sharply, his eyes frantically shifting between the hand, the road, and the woman in his passenger seat.
“There we go…” Y/N mumbled, giving his thigh a little squeeze before pulling her hand away and back into her lap. “You know it doesn’t bother me, right? You don’t need to freak yourself out because you’ve got a couple of years on me, Spencer,” she said with a little more confidence than Spencer was used to hearing from her.
“And besides, I’ve always had a taste for older men,” she shrugged, leaning across the center console to press a kiss to his now flushing cheeks. Spencer couldn't even bear to look at her, his heart racing as he tried to remain focused on the road. Was Y/N actually flirting with him or was she teasing him? Surely it had to be a joke.
The remainder of the drive was uneventfully quiet, with the couple only really speaking to point out the landmarks they’d passed until they pulled into the tiny parking lot beside the Space Needle. As soon as he’d killed the engine, Spencer was out of the car, running around the back to grab Y/N’s door. She smirked, eyeing the older man up and down as he playfully caught his breath from the minimal jog.
“Shall we, M’lady,” he mumbled awkwardly, offering her a hand as she slipped out of the car.
“get my car door isn’t that sweet. then pull me to the back seat”
“Who said chivalry was dead… Keep it up, we won't be making it out of this parking lot,” her brow wiggled rather suggestively as she watched Spencer gulp, his palm beginning to sweat against hers. “Come on, lover boy. I need that big brain to tell me all about the pretty glass.”
Their afternoon was spent hand in hand or arm in arm, the two only separating long enough for one of them to take a photo of the other. Spencer claimed he ‘needed a good photo for his office’. Y/N thought it was cheesy, but she’d giggle and pose wherever he directed her, and he’d try to do the same for her; though, his poses were far more stiff and awkward, but somehow, that made them all the more endearing.
They spent hours observing the installations, with Spencer rattling on about the different techniques used for each detail and Y/N occasionally offering her own commentary about how the art made her feel. To any passersby, they looked like a happy couple that had known each other for years, not two FBI agents playing make-believe for a while.
The restaurant Spencer had picked for dinner was across the park from the gardens, so there was no sense in moving the car. The once bright late summer sun had fallen victim to the Seattle clouds that were beginning to roll in as the couple meandered through the park. Spencer’s eyes trailed the younger woman’s face; he could tell she was contemplating something.
“What is it?”
“Can I tell you a secret?” Y/N glanced up at him, her hand falling from his grasp as she twisted her fingers anxiously, waiting for Spencer’s nod of approval. When it came, she paused, taking a deep breath.
“Doctor Spencer Reid, do you know that you completely changed my life?”
Spencer froze a few paces in front of her, brows knit together as he tried to decipher whether or not this was part of her act as the loving wife or if he actually, unbeknownst to him, had an effect on this young woman’s life.
“You taught a seminar in Nevada five years ago, breaking down the relationships between psychology and philosophy in human behavior.” Y/N’s gaze dropped, the summer breeze exposing the blush creeping up her ears. “I wasn’t even supposed to be in the class; I was an English major, but my roommate dragged me along… and maybe it was the way you taught, your excitement I guess? Or the way that it felt like you actually cared. I could’ve listened to you talk for hours.” She chuckled softly, shaking her head. “After that seminar, I marched myself down to the counseling office and became a psych major… added a year and a half to my college experience, but given that I’m about to walk into a very expensive restaurant, married to the professor who changed my life? I think it just might’ve been worth it.” She let out a breathy chuckle, her eyes searching Spencer’s for any indication of discomfort before dropping her gaze back to her hands, mindlessly fiddling with her wedding band. “Sorry, I just really needed to get that off my chest.”
“tell bout the first time you saw me”
For a moment, Spencer sat awestruck. He rarely found himself at a loss for words, but the newfound warmth in his chest made it nearly impossible to speak. So instead, he took her hand, his thumb brushing over her knuckles as he nodded, guiding her down the path to the restaurant in silence until they reached the door. He hesitated just outside, bringing her knuckles to his lips.
“Thank you… just… thank you.”
Dinner went smoothly, with the only minor hiccup being Spencer’s tangent about the bread basket and his qualms with group food. But other than that, the two simply enjoyed each other’s company, the sound of rain echoing against the roof as they ate.
As the couple exited the restaurant, they were met with the heavy downpour of a summer night storm. Y/N sighed, pulling her cardigan around her a little tighter, her lips pursed as she looked up at Spencer, his hands stuffed anxiously in his pockets. There was no way they were getting to the car dry, he knew that as a fact. So, with a little sigh and a nod to Y/N, he stepped out from the covered awning, arms outstretched as he let the rain soak him.
“Oh, so you’re crazy!” Y/N called, her voice hardly audible over the downpour, making no attempt to move. After a minute, Spencer jogged back to her, his arms wrapping around her middle as he lifted her, kicking and laughing, carting her out into the rain. She wiggled free of him, a smile plastered on her face as her hair began to drip.
 She spun around, embracing the fact she was now thoroughly soaked, a girlish giggle passing her lips as she tucked wet hair behind her ears “Ya now, even soaking wet, this may just may be the most successful date I’ve ever been on.”
Spencer quirked a brow, his head falling to the side like a puppy’s. “Your dating pool is really that bad?” he mused, remembering what it was like to be in his twenties awkwardly trying to make meaningful connections with people
“I don’t even really date; the men—no, they were boys—that have come into my life only ever want to waste my time, so… It’s like a twisted game of kiss,marry, kill? Except everyone sucks and there is a good chance someone is going to actually be crazy enough to kill you?” She shrugged, taking a moment to stare up at the sky her lashes heavy with raindrops
“So what’s it gonna be?” she called, her head turning to glance up at Spencer, the challenge in her eyes illuminated by the gas lamps lining the pavement. “You gonna marry, kiss, or kill me, Dr. Reid?”
Spencer’s eyes darkened, accepting her challenge with a mix of desire and determination as he stepped closer. Wordlessly, closing the space between them, his hand gently cradling her jaw, his touch an even balance between tender and possessive. He leaned in, devouring her lips, capturing her in a kiss that was anything but tentative. The kiss was electric, a rush of sensation that made the world around them disappear. His other hand found its way to her waist, pulling her closer, his fingers digging into the damp fabric.
Y/N responded eagerly, her fingers gripping the damp fabric that clung to his chest, pulling him closer still. She melted into him, the feel of his lips moving against hers sending shivers down her spine despite the warmth that blossomed in her chest. The rain pounded around them, soaking their clothes and plastering her hair to her face, but she didn’t care. All that mattered was the way Spencer held her, the way his mouth moved over hers with a hunger that left her breathless.
“I’m betting on all three,” she whispered against his lips, her voice dripping with desire.
         “All three…” he repeated, pulling away just enough to press a kiss to her forehead, his hands still cradling her face. “I am way too old for you…” he muttered breathlessly, his head shaking as he brought it down to rest against hers.
“The bureau seems to disagree,” her retort was quick, her lips ghosting over his. “And like I said earlier, it doesn’t bother me. I’m a big girl. I know what I want.” She kissed him one more time, hard and quick, before bolting through the park towards the car, leaving Spencer standing in the rain like a lovesick kid.
Spencer watched her go, his heart pounding hard and heavy against his ribs while his mind raced a million miles a minute as he tried to make sense of the fact that his ‘wife’ just might actually like him.
“Are you coming or what?” The rain had died down enough for Y/N’s voice to travel with ease. Spencer ran his hand through his wet curls, pushing them off his face before breaking into a jog up to the car. When she was within arm's reach, Spencer pulled her close, just taking a moment to hold her, fantasize that this life they were leading could be his reality.
Y/N wasted no time, her lips finding the curve of his jaw with ease, her hands tugging at the collar of his shirt. Spencer let out a groan, his head turning just enough to grant her better access to the sensitive skin at his neck, carefully guiding her back against the car door before returning his hand to her jaw, drawing her lips up to his.
There was a moment of bliss, where this was the only world that mattered, just a couple of lovestruck kids, then the shrill tone of Spencer’s phone cut through the air.
“Let it ring,” she all but whined.
“That’s Emily’s ringtone—” he groaned, fishing the all too loud phone out of his pocket and sighing loudly before putting the phone to his ear. “It’s not really a good ti-” he stopped, his gaze flicking down to Y/N, her frame pressed against the car door, another sigh leaving his now slightly kiss-bruised lips as he untangled himself from her. “No, I understand, I hear you. We’re heading back to the house… we’ll be there to meet the officer.” She took that as her cue, silently slipping into the passenger seat. Spencer stayed outside, pacing the length of the car, nodding to himself as Emily continued to talk.
“I’ll let her know.” His voice was muffled from behind the window. “Yup. Okay. We’ll call you if there’s any update. Good night.” Y/N watched as he hung up the phone, his head hanging low for a moment before he turned, striking the back door in a heated flash of anger, before he stalked around the car, climbing into the driver's seat.
It’s silent for a moment, the car tense with now long-forgotten lust as Spencer tossed his phone into the center console.
“There’s another couple. Same MO, same calling card.” She could see the frustration bubbling to the surface again as Spencer’s knuckles started to turn white against the steering wheel. “Local field agent is going to bring the updated file and the crime scene photos to the house…”
“Spence, this isn’t your fault—”
“I never said it was,” he bites back, sending Y/N shrinking into her seat. “I’m sorry… I just— I’m sorry,” he sighs. “I didn’t mean to snap at you… I know there was nothing we could’ve done. But it's still frustrating.”
She nods, now her turn to comfort him, her hand hesitantly reaching out across the center console to pry his from the wheel, gently squeezing. “I know, Spence. I know. We’ll figure this out, build our profile, but unfortunately, we just need a little more time. Hopefully soon enough, this unsub will take the bait and it’ll be us against them…” She chuckles softly, shaking her head in an attempt to lighten the mood. “God, that’s morbid… thinking it’ll be a relief to have a murderer place a target on your head…”
“You get used to it…” he said, any warmth in his voice evaporated as the engine roared to life.
the brink of a wrinkle in time
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taglist : @olives-and-sunshine @iniyalovesall @suzysface @guiltyyassin @spencereidbasis @tatilolz @cherrycemeterry @hiireadstuff @r-3dlips @sweetpeterparker @catertotshitposts
I hope i got everyone! if you’d like to be added to the taglist don’t hesitate to lemme know and as always i’d love to know the thoughts and feelings! xo
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sungbeam · 9 months ago
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nonidol!jeong yunho x f!reader
yunho might have been the superstar out of the two of you, but you have always been the center of his universe. (you — it's always been you.)
▷ genre, warnings. bffs2l, childhood friends 2 lovers, pining, popstar/singer au, swearing, fluff, humor, angst, hurt/comfort, kissing, mentions of alcohol, mentions of anxiety/nervousness, they physically cannot be apart for too long sorry they've got Attachment Issues low-key..., one kiss (is all it takes—)
▷ word count. 16.3k (guys,, this was supposed to be only like 6-8k i swear 😭)
▷ associated tunes. keep smiling (demxntia), gone too long (lullaboy), tear in my heart (twenty-one pilots)
a/n: hope u guys like this :'))) i had one of the scenes from here stuck in my brain for awhile and so i had to build the rest of the fic around it, and it turned into this monster, so uhm yes... also much love to @jaehunnyy tysm for reading thru it for me 💖
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THE DAY YUNHO'S ALBUM hit the Billboard Hot 100, you knew that you were going to need a lot more hands on deck than just you, your roommate, and Jeong Yunho himself.
“There's not enough albums, not enough time in the day, not enough of you!” You exclaimed with your fingers shoved into your hair as you took in the landscape of chaos before you on your living room floor. “Yunho, why couldn't you be ambidextrous?”
His eyes widened, body frozen where he was shoving a slice of beef jerky into his mouth. “Mwe? Pwhy are pyu yellinh ap mwe por?”
“I'm not yelling at you; I'm just wondering why you weren't born with eight arms instead of just two.” There were simply too many albums for him to sign before his agent came to pick them up in two hours, and there were also too few albums for the amount of demand. You always knew your best friend would make it big one day, but you also thought he would have had a whole team by that time.
Technically, you were his team—you, your roommate Trinity, and Mingi who was at his grandmother's for the long weekend. Mingi was five texts away from driving back down to help you guys four hours ago though. But his family needed him right now, and Yunho was firm in ensuring Mingi didn't have to come down and help. We got this, he'd said. It'll be easy, he also said.
Sure. Easy.
“We can't just forge his signature?” Trinity joked in a sleep-deprived daze as she leaned back against the couch cushions. Her mouth opened wide in a yawn. “I'm kidding. Let's not ruin his career.”
Yunho swallowed his bite. “That would be nice.” He cleaned his fingers on the Wet Wipe he had handy by his thigh, then picked up his black Sharpie, spinning the writing utensil between his fingers. “Now where were we? Album number fifty-six—?”
This had taken place just four months after Yunho released his second album, Aurora. It had been nearly a year and a half since Yunho debuted himself onto the music scene, and it was about time people finally began to recognize your best friend for all that he was—multi-talented, charismatic, handsome (on some occasions; you wouldn’t let him catch you slipping up there, though).
Within the next year and a half, Yunho skyrocketed into further altitudes of fame.
There were plenty of changes that occurred, many evolutions to Yunho's team and additions to his discography, but you were always a part of it. Even with your own career dealings, you would drop anything to be there for him, and him for you. Between the morning show interviews and late night recording sessions, there were also the research presentations and study session pick-me-ups.
“Are you sure you don't wanna come with?” You asked from where you were stationed in front of the bathroom mirror, putting on the final touches for your look this evening.
You could hear Trinity's fingers clacking away at her keyboard at the speed of light through her open bedroom door. “I'd love to, but I unfortunately did screw myself over by procrastinating on this paper. Have fun though, and tell Yunho congrats for me.”
Tonight was the album release party for Yunho's third full studio album entitled Youth. It was something he had been working on for years now, only recently having become satisfied with the tracks he chose and produced for it. Due to his sudden rise in fame, the release party was said to be hosting a myriad of big name celebrities and figures in the music industry. And of course, you. You were no one special, in hindsight, but Yunho couldn't begin to imagine celebrating a milestone without you by his side.
By eight o'clock, you were ready to head out.
You bid Trinity goodbye as you hustled out the front door of your apartment and down to the street below. Yunho and Mingi and everyone else would already be at the party; you would arrive on your own via Uber. You wished you could've been with him to get ready like all the other times, but your schedule had been unfortunate as of late. You were lucky enough to have gotten off of work this early.
As you sat in the backseat of your ride, you anxiously fidgeted with your phone in your lap.
(You were, without a doubt, excited to arrive at the party. Due to yours and Yunho's ever-busy and ever-conflicting schedules nowadays—yours because of work and PhD candidacy stuff, Yunho's because of rehearsals for his upcoming world tour—it had been awhile since you were able to hang out in person. You missed your gentle giant of a best friend.)
A loud vibration from it made your heart leap into your throat, and your face lit up in the dark with the incoming notification.
rockstar 🤟: pls tell me you've left the house
You snorted and typed out a swift reply. If I told you I was still in my pajamas…
rockstar 🤟: then i would call u a liar cuz u don't go to work in pjs, weirdo rockstar 🤟: just getting antsy tbh rockstar 🤟: need my star here w me :’)))
You couldn't help the touched pout that came to your face. I'm almost there, don't worry. And who are you calling a star when that's you? He always got a little sappy when he was nervous.
rockstar 🤟: im literally not having fun here without u hurry up :// your phone: isn't this UR album release party 😭 yun, why aren't u having fun? rockstar 🤟: just hurry up your phone: aish okok 🤧 eta 8min mr. impatient
You knew it was the jitters making him say things like that. Once you got there, you hoped you could help reassure him that he could stop worrying for just a second to enjoy himself. Even if Yunho worried about the album and what people thought, you were just as nervous. You hadn't even heard the entire thing—he’d been cheeky and didn't tell you he added a song to it last minute, but you'd listened to everything else.
You just hoped that people would continue to celebrate him and give him the love he deserved.
When your Uber driver pulled into the drop off loop at the front of the venue, you thanked him on your way out and threw the strap of your small purse over your shoulder. Already, however, as you were met with the residuals of flashing camera lenses and frantic paparazzi calls just a little ways down the driveway, the anxiety slowly began to settle in the pit of your stomach.
You could see the celebrities going up the entrance with people asking them to pose for their cameras, to say a word into their recorders.
Immediately, you turned on your heel and began slipping your way to a side entrance. The last thing you wanted was for dozens upon dozens of people to be staring at you, wondering who you were and why you were important. There were definitely people who knew you—you were plastered all over Yunho's social media because that was just what best friends did. But compared to everyone else walking up that driveway? Not a chance. You were nobody, and that was ay-okay to you.
Just as you thanked one of the employees coming out the side door for letting you in, you felt your phone buzz in your hand again, this time with an incoming call.
You picked it up and squeezed it between your ear and shoulder. “You're gonna need to speak up—the kitchen is super loud.”
“You're here finally!” Yunho said to you through the phone. “I was starting to get worried.”
You chuckled as you ducked out of the kitchen and into the main lobby to get to the elevators. The party was taking place somewhere on the seventh floor… if you could get there without getting lost. “Hey Yun, do me a favor?”
“Sure.”
“Calm down, man.”
The elevator sang its arrival and you stepped inside to the sound of Yunho sucking in a deep breath, then exhaling slowly. “I am calm… wait, are you in the lobby? Let me come down and get y—”
“I just got in the elevator, so don't worry—and I really don't think you should be leaving your own party, rockstar,” you teased. “Man, Mingi and Hwa really pulled out all the stops for this place,” you marveled quietly as you gave the elevator carriage a thorough look. It was made of marble and mirrors, every surface polished and crisp, like that of a tailored suit if tailored suits were made of crystals.
“Yeah, it's really great,” he agreed. “Remember the release party we threw for Crescent?”
A fond laugh tumbled out of your lips as you stepped out of the elevator and onto the seventh floor. Your mind filled with memories of his debut album's release party hosted in yours and Trinity's living room with three extra large Domino's pizzas, root beer floats, and a cheap disco ball. It had been a party for four that night—you, Yunho, Mingi, and Trinity—but your friends didn't need the fancy shit to have fun. “Definitely leagues away from this.”
There was a bouncer at the far end of the hallway, and you were certain now that you were in the right place.
“I kind of miss it,” Yunho murmured. You heard the sound on his end shift, simultaneous to watching the doors in front of you crack open and see Yunho's head pop out into the empty hallway.
“I kind of miss it, too,” you said into the phone, your eyes locked on his and a smile blooming over your features at the sight of your best friend, in the flesh.
There was a tender gleam in his eyes as he took you in and said something in a low tone to the bouncer. He stepped out into the hallway, letting the doors behind him shut fully.
“Slowpoke,” was his greeting to you as he scooped you into his embrace. The smell of his cologne was something familiar and delicious, and permeated your senses.
“Worrywart,” you quipped back, wrapping your arms around him to reciprocate.
When you both pulled back, he kept you at arm's length so he could take a better look at you. “I can't believe you're calling me the worrywart! I do recall that one night when Aurora hit the Top 100—”
You silenced him with a look and a playful punch to his shoulder. You pressed your lips together to suppress a smile as he tilted his head back in a jovial laugh. “Quiet, you. For once, I can't believe you're more nervous than I am.”
He gave a sheepish grin, fussing with the unbuttoned collar of his dress shirt, adjusting the chain he wore on his collarbones so the clasp sat right at the hollow of his throat.
You softened. Oh, he was really nervous.
“This album's just big for me; you know that,” he said, almost like he was trying to brush it off.
“I do.” The two of you began slowly making your way back towards the party doors. “Though, I'm excited to hear this mystery song that you snuck on there. I'm sure everyone will fall in love with the album, just like I did.”
He peered over at you then, and you couldn't understand why you were unable to read his expression then. It was… different. “Really?”
You blinked. “Of course,” you replied automatically. “I mean,” you added, “it's you, Yun. What's not to love?”
Yunho seemed speechless for a second, but moments later, he was breaking into a soft-cornered smile. “You always know what to say, Yn. Come on, there are some people who are dying to meet you.”
“Dying to meet me?” You laughed as the bouncer let the two of you into the party.
The party room was a rented out lounge space with wraparound windows that looked out at the skyline in the valley below. The main lights were kept low and warm, illuminating strategic places throughout the space to highlight the prohibition-like interior design. It was something out of a 1920s speakeasy with its velvet couches and dark mahogany wood finishes.
Yunho took you over toward the side of the room to get food first. There was a variety of snacks and small bites on the buffet table, and there was a bar counter shoved into the far corner where a bartender served drinks.
“I've pretty much socialized with everyone in this room already,” Yunho murmured to you as he shoved his hands into his pockets and grinned. “Meaning I can bug you for the rest of the night.”
Your eyebrows shot up. “There has to be, like, fifty people here. We still have the whole party left.”
“Yeah, but I have more fun with you anyway,” he said with a shrug. He reached for one of the little serving cups that held a little roll of rice armed with a slice of wagyu beef on top, all wrapped together with a strip of nori. “Now these—these are fucking amazing, dude. You have to try one.”
You snorted, but grabbed one of the little cups. “How many of these have you eaten already, Yun?”
He tapped his cup against yours like he was clinking glasses together. He chuckled, averting his gaze. “We don't have to talk about that…” His eyes caught onto someone nearby, and he perked up, shoving the entire bite into his mouth so he had a free hand to flag down whoever it was. “Mmh!”
You nearly choked on your own bite as you watched your best friend, who's cheeks were stuffed like a chipmunk's, flap his arm around in the air to get this person's attention because his mouth was currently occupied.
You turned your head to see who he was waving over, and nearly choked again, having to cup your hand over your mouth to prevent rice from falling out. Your eyes widened an alarming amount. “Mmno—!” You mumbled through your bite.
“What? I can't hear you,” he snickered. “Hongjoong hyung! There's someone I want you to meet.”
You made a crazed gesture—no, no, I'm not ready! How dare you ambush me with social interac—you swallowed the food in your mouth as Hongjoong made his way over. You had never met the famed Kim Hongjoong—legendary producer, prodigy musician, favorite model to ever strut down the Paris Fashion Week Runway. He dropped off the grid for a brief three-month hiatus until he suddenly reappeared, but in your best friend's Instagram story. At some point, Yunho had met Hongjoong and won his favor. Then again, it was easy for Yunho to win over anyone's favor.
No one really knew why Hongjoong disappeared like he had, but some speculate it had something to do with his new relationship status: single.
You were always starstruck seeing Hongjoong on Yunho and Mingi's social media, as well as Hongjoong's own platforms. Tonight was no exception.
Hongjoong's hair of the season was a simple light brown that complimented his skin tone and the warmth in his smile. You were used to seeing him in more extravagant garb, but tonight, he chose something very simple, but chic like Yunho.
Yunho and Hongjoong clasped hands in greeting. “What's up, man?” The latter chirped, eyes flickering over to you as you attempted to behave normally.
Yunho gestured toward you, his eyes twinkling as he swept his arm around your shoulders to bring you forward. “This is Yn. Yn, this is Hongjoong. He's the one who produced the album—”
“Now, don't downplay your own efforts, Yunho,” Hongjoong cut in with a knowing look. “You produced so much of it on your own; I fine-tuned and made a couple tracks, but the rest was all you, man.”
“I always tell him he's far too humble,” you agreed.
Hongjoong sent you a smile, extending his hand out. “Great minds think alike, Yn. It's very nice to meet the person this guy doesn't ever stop talking about.”
You laughed good-naturedly and saw Yunho's flushed sheepishness out of the corner of your eye. You shook Hongjoong's hand with a firm, confident grip. “Nice to meet you, too. You're—you’re incredible, by the way. I remember when Yunho posted a photo with you, and I literally screamed his ear off over the phone.”
Yunho winced and held a hand up to his ear, as if remembering the physical sensation of that phone call. “Yup, definitely damaged my eardrum that day.”
“Well, thank you; I'm flattered,” Hongjoong replied pleasantly. “So I'm assuming you've probably heard as much of the album as I have then?”
“I'm sure you've heard the whole thing,” you said. “Yunho has withheld one of the tracks from me, but I've listened to all the rest.”
He cocked his head to the side. “Oh? Which track did—oh.” As he and Yunho made eye contact, you watched as a silent understanding passed between them, and Hongjoong's mouth tugged upward in a teasing smile. “That song.”
You blinked. “What does that mean?”
Hongjoong flourished his hand as if to wave away the thought. “He just wanted it to be perfect, so we were working on it up to the last second. Nothing terribly concerning.”
Ah. You relaxed, but the curiosity still lingered in your mind's eye. “I'm sure it's great, nonetheless.”
“Oh yeah, you're gonna love—”
“Oh-kay! That's enough about the song,” Yunho chuckled nervously as he grabbed your shoulders and began steering you away from a clearly amused Hongjoong. “Let's go say hi to Mingi, hm?”
You threw him a look from over your shoulder, but went along with him toward wherever he'd seen Mingi wandering around. “What has gotten into you tonight?” You teased, though, you also hoped to know why he was so jittery. He wasn't even this nervous about dropping his debut album.
Yunho showed you a bright smile, the same kind of golden-retriever expression that the media knew him well for. It would have been enough if you didn't know him. “Again, it's an important album to me. And the song I added last minute is on the deluxe version, so I wasn't really confident in putting it on the original release.”
“Ah,” you murmured. You reached up to pat the hand that rested on your left shoulder reassuringly. “I'm sure it really is a great song, Yun, and I'm not just saying that. You can make an awful omelet, but you can't make an awful song.”
Your best friend bursted into laughter at the latter comment, and your heart soared to see the genuine smile on his face now. That was your Yunho shining through. “You're right—if I can't scramble eggs, at least I can write a song.”
Over the next hour and a half, Yunho took you on a tour around the room, jumping from friend to friend to introduce you to more of his world. For the most part, however, it felt like an excuse for you to bond with all his friends in teasing him about something or other. But he seemed content enough to see you getting along well with the other people close to him.
He had met plenty of your friends at your work, so it was only fair that you got the same opportunity.
At some point while you were with Wooyoung and San discussing all of the rehearsals for Yunho's upcoming world tour, Hongjoong summoned everyone's attention to announce that it was time to listen to the album. It would be a rather casual affair with the Youth album playing in the background of the party, but you were certain people would minimize their conversations to listen in.
You craned your neck to peer around the crowd to see where Yunho had gone off to. “Wait, guys, did you see where Yunho went?”
Wooyoung and San joined your search, but quickly hustled you into a nearby booth to sit and enjoy the album with your drinks. “He'll find us,” Wooyoung assured you as the three of you slipped into the leather seats. “He wouldn't miss this.”
“He'll at least be here by the last song,” San said offhandedly, his eyebrows wagging up and down.
Your lips parted, your face morphing into feigned offense. “Wait. Did he let you guys listen to the deluxe edition song, too?”
“Maybe,” Wooyoung giggled.
San cooed at your pout. “Awwh, don't take it to heart, Yn-ie. It was supposed to be a surprise for you.”
You raised your drink to your lips, sighing before taking a sip. “Everybody talks about this damn song as if he wrote it for me.”
Unbeknownst to you, the two others at the table exchanged pointed looks between one another when you were looking away. It was a wonder how Yunho was able to keep this all a secret from you. Though, even San and Wooyoung knew how busy you could get nowadays, so perhaps it really was just that easy. Plus, they had all at one point or another been privy to Yunho’s feelings—
“Speak of the Devil,” you perked up at the sight of your best friend emerging from the crowd with the others—Hongjoong, Seonghwa, Mingi, Jongho (vocal coach and album feature), and Yeosang (PR management)—in tow behind him. “We were wondering where you had gone off to.”
Yunho grinned as the lot of them squished into the circular seating arrangement with you, San, and Wooyoung. “Sorry, had to go round everyone up. The album should be queued up and ready to go.” He chose to sit on the end of the booth to your right while everyone else filled it up from the other side.
You offered him a sip of your drink, and he gladly took the glass from you. “So San and Woo were just telling me about how their tour prep is coming. You guys are leaving—what was it—two weeks from now?”
He hummed, smacking his lips as he set the glass back down on the table. “Yeah, it should be just about two weeks,” he said. His arm came up to rest against the back of the booth seat behind you. “You know, you can still come to the first stop with us…” This was said with a very pointed look at you from Yunho, followed by similar expressions from everyone else around the table.
“And you know that day’s when my supervisor holds quarterly meetings that are mandatory,” you shot back. As much as you hated the timing, the day that Yunho and the team planned to fly to their first stop on his world tour, you were required to be present for a very important meeting at work.
The Youth World Tour was something Yunho had been looking forward to and preparing for a long time. Besides working on the Youth album itself, his working hours extended over the past year or so to get ready for this major milestone. You would definitely be able to meet up with them at one of the tour stops, you just weren’t sure which one yet.
Things at your workplace were a little rocky as of late due to shifting management, but you would play it by ear. For your best friend, of course you would make it work somehow.
Your ears pricked up at the sound of strings strumming overhead and your heart leapt out of your ribcage for a moment. “Oh my god, I love this song.”
“You and me both, Yn,” Hongjoong chuckled across the table from you, reaching over so you could bump fists with him, “you’ve got good taste.”
“You’re only saying that because you wrote this one specifically,” Yunho sputtered out a laugh while rolling his eyes.
“It’s a good message,” you said, picking up your drink to take a generous gulp of it. There was a little left at the bottom of the martini glass and you swirled the liquid around before handing it over to Yunho to finish. “I think this one will definitely make it onto my work playlist.”
Yunho draped the back of his hand over his forehead, setting the now empty glass on the table. “Wow, relegated to the work playlist. Is that all I am to you?”
“You are a mood maker,” you pointed out with a teasing smile.
“Bro, you're complaining as if Yn doesn't put her work playlist on for everything she does.” Mingi arched his brows over the rims of his sunglasses. (Why was he wearing sunglasses indoors and at night? You didn't know; he said something about looking cool.)
Wooyoung chuckled. “What? So let's say you're trying to sleep—”
“Yah, I have a different playlist for that! I'm not completely unreasonable.”
“Completely,” Yunho and Mingi said at the same time, then looked at each other with wide, excited eyes. They bursted out laughing at once, too, leaving you to deadpan at the two clowns to your eleven o'clock and three o'clock.
You sighed. “I hate you guys.”
That only made them laugh louder, spurring on the others to crack smiles and for you to do the same.
Yunho calmed slightly, his cheeks hurting from smiling. “Aw, you walked right into that one, Yn.”
“So you're saying you are, in some capacity, unreasonable—oh my god, don't hurt me!” Mingi shrieked as he shoved Yeosang's body in front of him like a human shield as you lurched forward and threatened to grab him.
Yeosang sent Mingi a dirty look as he wrestled out of his neighbor's hold. “Dude.”
“Jongho, protect me.”
The vocal coach popped the olive from his martini into his mouth. “If you can't handle the heat, hyung, stay out of the kitchen.”
You nodded, raising your pointer finger up. “Exactly.”
For the next hour, you and your friends shared good company and conversation, while also commenting on, praising, and enjoying the tunes from Yunho's Youth album. There were a good thirteen songs featured on the album, and while most of them were inspired by real life, you remembered the days and nights when Yunho would break out the white board under his bed to draw out a concept map of the storyline he'd created in his head for some songs. It was like a miniature Easter egg hunt for fans to piece together from album to album.
When the clock hit nearly midnight, you recognized the song that marked the end of the conventional album—track number thirteen, 22. It was a song that reflected and lamented on his early stages of adulthood, all the goods and bads, all the hopes and dreams he had left. It was something that tied the regular album with a satisfying bow, but you were also giddy to hear the secret fourteenth deluxe track.
But as his ethereal voice from 22 faded out, the same guitar chords from the first song of the album began to play.
Everyone at the table paused in confusion.
“Uhh, I thought you were revealing the hidden track tonight, Yunho?” Seonghwa asked from across the table.
Yunho tilted his body out of the booth to peer into the sound booth at the very back of the lounge, a furrow in his brow. “I thought I was, too,” he said as he stood up. “I’ll be back in a sec.”
Before anyone else could say anything, Yunho disappeared past the door to the sound booth. You frowned as Hongjoong excused himself to catch up with him, mumbling something about helping with any technical difficulties.
In retrospect, it wouldn't be the biggest deal if you didn't get to hear the song tonight. You would simply listen to it when the deluxe album dropped in about a week, but you wouldn't deny that you were a little disappointed. Everyone else at this table had already listened to it—why had Yunho not shared it with you yet? Did he think you would judge him or not like it? You didn't think you were ever so harsh a critic, but that would explain why he was so nervous all night.
Regardless, you remained positive.
When Yunho and Hongjoong returned to the table, the rest of you all looked on to them expectantly.
“Something wacky is going on with the system right now and won't play the file for the hidden track,” Hongjoong huffed. He passed Yunho a sidelong glance, and you saw how Yunho avoided his friend's eyes like the plague. “Sorry to disappoint, Yn.”
Everyone's attention whipped toward you, and you straightened like a deer caught in headlights. “Oh, uhm, it's no biggie,” you said. You glanced over at Yunho who, if anything, seemed guilty. Or maybe it was just something apologetic. “Really—I can wait for it to drop officially.”
You didn't like how the air seemed to shift during this exchange, as if all the other boys were sitting on the edges of their seats, faces morphed into mixed ranges of confusion and disbelief.
You cleared your throat. “Anyone want more drinks?”
As the night waned and the party came to a close, you found yourself being helped into another Uber car to head home. After the supposed tech glitch, the remainder of the party passed by without a hitch. At the very end, Yunho popped open a theatrical bottle of champagne for all his guests to close out the celebration.
The backseat door closed just as Yunho ducked in with you, his hand waving out the window to San, Wooyoung, and Jongho passing by along the curb.
The alcohol had gradually made its way to your brain, and there was a light buzzing at the base of your skull that made you feel all warm and fuzzy. You yawned, leaning your head against Yunho's shoulder.
He chuckled, one of his hands coming up to gently pat your head. “Tired?”
“Mhm,” you hummed as your eyelids fluttered closed. “You didn't have to lie, y'know.”
You felt his shoulder tense under your cheek. If only you could feel the rapid beating in his chest, then he'd be as good as done.
“I don't know what you're talking about,” he replied innocently, nimble fingers running over the chain links of his wristwatch.
Your eyes cracked open slowly. “Yunho.”
A beat passed, then he sighed. “Are you mad?” He asked quietly and his hand nearest to you found yours as he began to mindlessly inspect the chipped nail polish on your fingertips.
“No, silly. Why would I be mad?” When he didn't respond right away, you let out an exhale of your own. “I mean, I could tell you were nervous about me listening to the song all night. And if you weren't ready for me to listen to it yet, then I totally get that, and I'm okay with waiting. I just would rather you tell me that instead of make Hongjoong lie for you.”
He stopped playing with your fingers. “I'm sorry, for the record. Thank you for understanding.”
You hummed in reply.
The drive continued on with the accompaniment of a random radio station playing on low volume. You weren't going to fall asleep just yet with the alcohol still working its way through your system, but you kept your eyes closed nonetheless.
“I missed you, you know?” Were his first words to break the next silence.
A small smile wormed its way onto your face. “I missed you, too. I feel like we haven't seen each other in forever.”
He chuckled, the low sound rumbling through his chest and into your ear. “Texting can only take us so far. Isn't that crazy? We can't even survive a week without hanging out, but we're… we're about to be separated for so much longer timewise and distance-wise.”
You grumbled. “Don't remind me—wait. Has it really only been a week?” You peeked one eye open, a frown coming to your lips. “No way.”
Yunho smiled, shaking his head. “Believe it or not, stargirl. It's been only a week.”
“In-fucking-sane.”
“You're telling me.”
“How are we going to survive?” You pondered aloud, genuinely. If you couldn't fly out to see him within the first handful of tour stops, you and Yunho at the soonest wouldn't be able to see each other for three weeks. And if you couldn't escape your work duties and your PhD responsibilities, then it would be longer than that. “You're gonna have a closer relationship with your Valorant account than me.”
Yunho snorted. “I already have a closer relationship with my Valorant account than you.”
“Shucks.” You breathed out. “Guess I'll just text Hongjoong then. You know what he told me tonight when we were exchanging numbers? All eight of you nerds have a group chat and he gets ignored like a mom in a family chatroom.”
Your comment made a laugh tumble out of Yunho's mouth. “Did he make that analogy?”
“No, Seonghwa did when he overheard.”
A wheeze. “That tracks.” Yunho licked his lips as he turned his head slightly to glance down at you leaning on his shoulder. With his free hand, he warmed his palm over your head like he could keep you here forever. “So what's this about texting Joong?”
You shifted your position to get more comfortable and clung to his arm to press yourself closer. There was still a little ways to go before you reached your apartment. “I told him offhandedly that I wanna pick up a new hobby… something about crocheting or something, and apparently that guy is like… amazing at everything, so he's gonna help me out.”
“Ah.” The sound was quiet. “I'm glad you guys got along.”
You smiled to yourself. “Me too. He's really cool.”
“Not cooler than me though, right?”
You blindly reached over to pat his chest in warm reassurance. “Don't worry, big guy. I guess you're still the coolest guy I know.”
He clicked his tongue at you with a weak chiding, “Yah. You only guess? Don't tell Mingi that.”
“Oh, I wouldn't dream of it.”
The Uber eventually pulled up along the curb outside your apartment complex. You lifted your head up from Yunho's shoulder and woke yourself up with a good stretch of your limbs.
He helped you out of the car, handing you your purse when you finally got your bearings. “Are you sure I can't walk you up? You look like your knees are about to buckle,” he chuckled.
You shook your head. The cool evening air was helping your brain to sober up. “No, no. Don't worry about it—I’m not as drunk as that one year.”
“Dear heart, how could I forget,” he teased. “Mingi still has the recording of when you begged to be bridal carried.”
Your face warmed at his mention of that memory and you wrinkled your nose at him. “I was gonna say ‘I love you’ along with goodnight, but I suppose not.”
Yunho froze. “What?”
Maybe you really weren't sobering up, because you didn't catch his strange reaction. “Nevermind,” you said flippantly. “Love you, Yun. Good night. Get home safe!”
He seemed to unfreeze, his lungs filling with breath again. A soft smile melted onto his pretty lips as he looked on toward you with a warm fondness. “Love you, too. Good night, Yn.”
He remained where he was outside the car door as he watched you dig your keys out from your purse and open the complex door. When you had one foot inside, you stopped, and turned back to him with a big grin on your face. “Hey!”
“Hey?” He laughed.
“I'm proud of you.”
For the thousandth time tonight, you made him lose his breath, his hold on reality. He swallowed—he wanted to kiss you. “I love you. Get some rest, stargirl.”
You waved to him in reply and he waved back. Then you disappeared through the door and left him there, his heart full and beating fast, the longing in his chest weighing heavier than before.
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When you and Yunho were thirteen, you spent the longest period of time away from each other for the rest of your lives. It measured to about one summer break long when Yunho flew to South Korea to spend the entire vacation there and you could do nothing but chat with him via good, old fashioned e-mail.
Now that the two of you were older, even a couple days dragged on like an eternity. And because of your clashing and stacked schedules, a couple days almost always bled into a week.
A week since the release of Youth marked the inevitable release of its deluxe edition and the ever mysterious fourteenth track.
“Yn, wait, can you just help me finish this set of primers?”
You were this close to escaping the lab before one of your colleagues caught you. Taking a deep breath, you resolved to turn back and help them out. One less thing to worry about later, right? You could still listen to the track once you got home.
Except you couldn't, at least not right away. You saw the email on the bus ride home:
Hello TAs! One of your peers has unfortunately been involved in a motorbike accident early this evening. We have been informed that they will recover to full health, but because they are hospitalized, we will need to redistribute responsibilities regarding grades and as to who will cover their TA sections…
You skimmed down the email's contents, knowing you wouldn't be the one filling in as an actual TA. Because you were a first year graduate student in your first quarter, you opted to start off with grading work for now. But even if you didn't have to deal with a whole section of undergraduates, you could feel the blood drain from your face.
“You've gotta be shitting me,” you said, then slapped your hand over your mouth once you realized you'd said that aloud. You mouthed a sheepish “sorry” to a parent and her child nearby, then ducked your head to look at the contents once more.
There was no way they wanted—no, needed—all of those graded by tonight.
This was cruel and unusual punishment, but you knew you were going to do it anyway.
By the time you finished grading, shoveled dinner into your mouth, and took a therapeutically scalding hot shower, it was sometime past two in the morning. Thank fuck it was Saturday.
It was less than twelve hours later that you settled into the passenger seat of Yunho's Lexus sedan with a pair of shades covering your dehydrated, puffy eyes from the world and whatever paparazzi was stalking his car. Yunho glanced over at you with barely concealed amusement. “Well, good morning, princess.”
“You can't see it but I'm glaring at you,” you grunted as you strapped yourself in with the seatbelt. “I can't believe you wake up before noon now.”
“Unfortunately,” he chuckled, peeling his car away from the curb. After an unsatisfactory six hours of sleep, Yunho had woken you up with the obnoxiously loud sound of your phone ringing. You managed to negotiate for him to pick you up in two hours rather than half an hour—and now here you were. You never truly considered yourself a breakfast person and you would have happily slept all the way to lunch, but even through the exhaustion, you wanted to see him as much as he wanted to see you.
He would be gone by the end of the week, after all.
You leaned your head back against the headrest. “I used to have to lure you out of bed with the smell of bacon. Remember when you ate that entire plate of raw-ass bacon and pancake batter that Mingi made?”
Yunho let out a loud laugh that made you smile. He glanced over at you. “Bro,” he sighed, shaking his head, “you know I'll eat anything. Oh my gosh, I will never forget the horrified look on your face when you came out of the bathroom and found out what happened.”
“You looked like a kicked puppy when I told you that you shouldn't have eaten raw bacon,” you snorted. You'd felt so awful that Yunho was such a good eater who didn't complain; he didn't have any negative side effects afterward, thankfully, but you swore to never let Mingi in the kitchen or to let Mingi feed Yunho ever again, so long as you lived.
There was a café a few minutes drive from your apartment complex that the two of you liked to go to. It was a little hole in the wall, located on the second floor above a pet shelter, and the entrance could only be accessed through the stairs in the next-door alleyway.
Yunho adjusted the beanie over his bangs and you shifted your sunglasses up to the top of your head as you entered the establishment. There were a few people seated in the area to the right, but something you liked about this place was its hidden gem quality. (And the drinks and food they served, of course.)
“Hi, welcome in!” The barista behind the counter called before ducking behind the espresso machine. “Give me two seconds, and I'll be right with you.”
“No worries, take your time,” Yunho chirped back as he scoured the menu, eyes squinting and tongue darting out to wet his lips.
You had a general idea of what you wanted already, and you let Yunho know what it was before slipping off into the restroom.
By the time you emerged from the back hallway where the washrooms were, Yunho had finished ordering and was standing by one of the open two-seater tables by the far window with the soft autumn sunlight painting over his features. For a second, you stood at the opening of the hallway, just admiring him. Perhaps it was the lack of sleep making you envision the sunlight dancing around him as he sat down in one of the seats.
Heat rushed up your neck as your eyes met across the café. Gazes locked, you stood frozen, but a smile bloomed on your best friend's face like the coming of spring. It was the most beautiful thing you'd ever seen.
And then he made a face, cocking his head to the side like a puppy with a question. 'Why are you just standing there?’ He seemed to ask.
You shook yourself out of whatever strange daze you'd slipped into, then walked over to join him.
“You okay?” He asked as you took the seat across from him, a teasing lilt to his voice, yet there was still concern in the curve of his mouth.
You waved said concern away. “Yeah. I think I'm still waking up or something.”
“Ah,” he nodded in understanding. He frowned. “What time did you go to sleep last night?”
“Like… some time past two.” On cue, you let out a large yawn, lifting your sleeve up to cover your mouth. “It's okay. I'll just sleep early tonight or something. One of the other TAs got into an accident, so we just had to do some make-up work and I just happened to get home late as it was.”
You could already see the guilt manifest on his face for waking you up, and you were swift to add, “I'll be fine with food and coffee, so 's alright. What about you? How'd you sleep last night?”
“I slept decently,” he replied, leaning forward to rest his cheek against his fist. “I didn't end up dropping the deluxe album, so it was a little more restful than—”
Your brain took a second to catch up. The… the deluxe album… oh. Your eyes went from half-mast to wide open. “You—you didn't release the deluxe? Sorry, I was so busy yesterday that I didn't check my socials.”
“Don't worry about it,” he said with a sheepish smile. “But yeah, I told my manager that I still wasn't ready to release it to the public just yet. I don't know when I'll postpone it to, but it probably won't come out until while I'm on tour.”
Ah. There was that disappointment settling in the pit of your stomach again. This wasn't about you, but why did it seem like he was avoiding your eventual listening to this song? He was almost always sending you audio files without prompting, so what made this one different?
Nonetheless, it wasn't your song. You would respect Yunho's privacy if he wanted to keep this one to himself and his friends.
You unconsciously rubbed your arm. “Oh okay. Yeah, I mean—take your time, Yun. I'm glad you don't feel pressured to release it when you aren't ready.”
His expression softened to something tender that made your chest feel fuzzy. “You'll listen to it soon, I promise.”
The barista called out Yunho's order number, and your friend stood up to go retrieve it. You sighed as you fiddled with the sleeve of your shirt and peered over your shoulder as a pair of newcomers asked him for his autograph and a picture. You watched the pleasant smile spread on Yunho's face as he conversed with them as easy as breathing air, alongside the faint blush over his cheekbones.
No, you didn't know what had gotten into you this morning.
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“No, no. You have to loop it through this piece here—yeah, there you go.”
You were so concentrated on following Hongjoong's directions that you didn't even register the sound of Yunho's front door opening and closing. Hongjoong clicked his tongue and scooted closer so he could direct your hands and the crochet hook himself.
“Uhm… hey?”
Both yours and Hongjoong's heads whipped up at the sound of Yunho's confusion. He stood at the entrance to the living room area where, scattered all around you and Hongjoong, were clothes, toiletries, and other essentials laid out for Yunho to throw into his bags.
Tonight marked the evening before Yunho and the team were to set off on the Youth World Tour. Tomorrow, they would fly out sometime in the afternoon, which meant that you would have time to send them off before heading to work and class. However, because you hadn't seen Yunho since this past Saturday when he dragged your ass out of bed for breakfast, you invited yourself over to his apartment to oversee his packing. Hongjoong just so happened to be swinging by Yunho's apartment and you asked if he was up for an impromptu crocheting lesson.
Hongjoong arrived some time while Yunho ran out to the Chinese place down the block to grab dinner, and the two of you had been hunched over the ball of yarn and hook ever since.
“Oh, you're back!” You exclaimed. In your distracted state, Hongjoong took the opportunity to take the crochet piece from you and subtly fix the mistakes you made.
Yunho's brows creased, eyes darting from you to Hongjoong as he slowly placed the takeout bags on the semi-cleared coffee table. “Yeah… Joong, when did you get here?”
You leaned forward to help clear off the rest of the coffee table and to also assist in unpacking all of the takeout containers. Yunho shucked the baseball cap he was wearing off to the side, carding a hand through his dark locks.
“Like… seven minutes ago,” he replied cheekily. His mouth curled into something mischievous as he locked eyes with Yunho. “I can leave, though, if you wanted to be alone—”
“Hyung—”
“I'm messing with you,” he snickered as he handed you the yarn and hook. “I only came by to drop off the emergency backup files hard drive and to give Yn-ie a sneak peek of her crocheting lessons to come.”
(Yunho's eyes narrowed a millimeter. Yn-ie?)
You set the unfinished crochet square down on the couch to walk Hongjoong to the door. “Are we still on for tomorrow, by the way?”
“What's tomorrow?” Yunho twisted around where he was seated on the floor to watch you and Hongjoong make your way to the front door.
“You,” said Hongjoong with raised eyebrows at your best friend, “are going on a plane with everyone else. Because I'm not leaving until the day after tomorrow, Yn and I are bonding over lunch after we see you all off.”
You and Hongjoong finished up finalizing plans in the doorway, followed by amiable farewells. Yunho called out a “good night” to his friend as Hongjoong slipped out the door, and left you and him to the apartment by yourselves.
You claimed the spot on the floor next to him and accepted the pair of wooden chopsticks he extended to you. “I'm sorry if I wasn't supposed to invite him in. I probably should've asked,” you said sheepishly as you snapped the chopsticks apart.
“Oh, no, he's been over quite a few times, so it's all good,” he replied swiftly. “I just didn't expect you two to be so close.” He added a laugh at the end that sounded more nervous to him than it was supposed to.
“We've been texting back and forth, but I guess so. Nothing like the two of you,” you jested, lifting your eyebrows up and bumping your elbow against his.
Yunho grinned. “What's that supposed to mean?”
“You guys spend all that time together in the studio—WHA—NO! Keep those hands to yourself!” You shrieked, rolling out of the way to dodge his hands that threatened to tickle you into submission. Yunho had thrown his head back in a carefree laugh, a beautiful expression in itself, that had you reciprocating.
When you were sure he wasn't going to attack you (affectionately), you scooted back over to your original spot next to him. He smiled to himself at the sidelong glance you casted him, and he went and grabbed one carton of rice for himself and the other for you.
“Thank you for dinner, by the way,” you told him as you opened up your carton, his somehow already opened and spilling over with food.
You once again caught him with his mouth full, and Yunho swallowed the bite of food he had before replying. “Yeah, man. Of course.”
“I swear that I will definitely get the next meal we have—”
“Yn.” He touched the back of his hand against your arm to draw your attention to him. “You literally were the one to make sure I made it out of college alive, like, I can never thank you enough for how much you did for me then and continue to do for me now.”
You swallowed, suddenly blown back by the way he looked at you right now. “I did it because I care about you, Yun. It's not something I expect to be repaid for.”
“I know,” he said with a nod, lips pulled into a tender smile that made your stomach do flips. This was the look no one else got to see from him. Sure, he could fill stadiums of people who would see his big, bright grin that shone brighter than the sun, but… but this one, this smile, was yours. “That goes the same toward this meal, okay?”
Yunho notched his finger under your chin and tilted your head up slightly to meet his eyes. “Don't worry about it.”
You set your carton of rice and chopsticks on the table, he copied your movements, and you wrapped each other in your mutual embraces. The startling realization that you wouldn't see him for longer than a week from tomorrow onward rushed toward you like the coming of a tide to shore. Before you knew it, the water was up to your knees, and you—what were you going to do without him here?
“I miss you already,” you whispered.
You felt him squeeze you tighter, nose pressed against the side of your neck. “I won't be gone too long.” A promise.
“Thank god Seonghwa and Wooyoung can cook.” At the sound of his snort from above your head, you squawked out in your defense, “Who else is gonna make you bacon and pancakes in the morning when you’re dead tired?”
“Hey! I can fry bacon, I’ll have you know!”
You pulled away from him so he could see the look of pure disbelief on your face. “Okay, rockstar. I believe you.”
He scrunched his nose up at you. “That’s not very convincing.”
“I’m glad we’re on the same page.”
Yunho scoffed, reaching over to flick your nose. You let out a sound of indignation and rubbed your nose, a scowl on your face at Yunho’s very pleased expression. And even if you were currently conspiring on how to get back at him, you couldn’t help but resolve something right that second—you would do everything in your power to see his show in two weeks’ time—to see Yunho in two weeks’ time.
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The thing about cheap plane tickets was that the cheaper you bought them, the less “amenities” that it came with. The one you’d purchased specifically for two weeks in the future did not allow you a refund. This meant that if something were to arise, you would be a good several hundred dollars poorer, and your plans to surprise Yunho at his show would fall completely through the floor.
Good thing you weren’t about to let that happen, right? …Right?
“You’re sick.” Those were your roommate Trinity’s first words to you as you stumbled out of your bedroom and found her perched on one of the stools at the kitchen counter. She fixed you with an unimpressed look as she stirred around her morning coffee.
“I’m not—” Your own response was cut off by one very untimely cough into your elbow. You wrinkled your nose at the metallic taste at the back of your throat. Great. “—sick.”
“And I’m Oprah,” she deadpanned.
“You could be.” Did you really sound as much like a dying walrus as you thought you did? Holy shit.
She stood up from her stool, setting her coffee cup on the counter, then walked over to you to direct you back into your room. “I’m not permitting you exit from this apartment until you're better. Back to bed with you.”
“But—”
“No buts! If you wanna still be able to fly by the end of this week, then you have to get better, Yn.”
You really, unfortunately, could not argue with that. Nearly a week and a half had passed since Yunho started touring. Opening night had been a massive success, as you’d seen the broadcast and read the reviews on social media. In the concert photos and videos slowly being released online, there was no doubt in your mind that Yunho belonged onstage. He was radiant as a diamond in each depiction of him, and he sounded better and better each night.
Suffice to say, you were beyond proud and happy for him.
In order to make your surprise successful, you informed Yunho’s team of your plans so they could help you get into the concert once you arrived. Your part consisted mainly of finishing all of your work ahead of schedule so you weren’t swamped when you got back. It was nearing the end of the term, meaning there was lots to grade and study, but when you had a goal, you were determined.
The only downside was that, between the long days and nights of work, your body couldn’t fight against the swift rush of early winter air that swept through the city in the past week. Your working hours stretched out longer and longer until your body just… gave up. Or at least, it was giving up.
After calling in sick to your workplace, you crashed back into bed for what you hoped to be a restful nap. Maybe when you woke up, this would all just turn out to be a 24-hour fever.
(It was not a 24-hour fever.)
You didn't even know what time it was when you woke up groggy and your head pounding like there was an active construction site taking place in your skull. Your bedroom was dark, and the world outside your window was also dark. The sound of your phone ringing drilled into your cranium, and you groaned as you felt around your mess of blankets and sheets for wherever that damned thing was—
“Hello?” You croaked into the receiver when you finally grabbed ahold of your phone.
There was a pause on the other end, and you were about to ask who it was when they responded. “Oh my god. You're sick.”
Your heart leapt into your throat at the sound of your best friend's voice and you shoved your face into the pillow. “I'm not sick.”
“Yn, sweetheart, you literally have the sexy sick voice.”
“You think I'm sexy?” You asked in a drowsy, unwell daze. “But anyways, I'm not—” You lifted your face into your elbow in time to practically hack out your lungs. You groaned. “Okay, maybe I am sick.”
Could things get any worse?
You could hear the frown in his voice. “You sound like my worst nightmare.”
“Am I sexy or your worst nightmare? You need to pick an adjective.” You whimpered as you struggled to pull yourself up into a sitting position.
“At least I know it did nothing to that attitude of yours,” he laughed. He sobered for a moment when he heard you groan as the blood rushed to your head. “Hey, do you have meds with you? I can order some and have them there in half an hour.”
You waved him off, even though he wouldn't be able to see. “No, it's okay. I should have taken an ibuprofen before I crashed. I'm sure we've got extra Nyquil around here somewhere…”
You attempted to stand up, a swear falling from your mouth as the vertigo hit you and sent you tumbling back down onto the edge of the bed.
“Yn, I'm sending you medicine—and dinner. That one bistro near your apartment is still open, right? I'll let Trinity know that deliveries are on the—Yn?”
You lifted your head and broke out of your return to unconsciousness. “Hm? Sorry… I did not hear anything you just said.” You rubbed your hand down your face and scooped your phone up to make your way out of your room. You somehow made it to the door, and you leaned against the doorjamb as you pushed out into the dark hallway. “You don't have to send anything, Yun. Trinity's studying for her law school finals, so I don't wanna bother her. Plus…”
You opened up the medicine cabinet in the bathroom and bit back a sigh of disappointment. No cold medicine. There was pain medication, at least, so that should hopefully help you fall asleep again.
At your lack of words, Yunho asked, “No medicine?”
“No, I have some medicine,” you countered. “Just—not the right ones.” Before you could swallow any pills, you hacked out another lung into your elbow; you swore your coughs were sounding worse and worse.
“You know what? I'm flying home—”
You slammed the pill bottle on the bathroom counter. “Don't—what? Yunho, do not fly home. It's literally just a little—” You coughed, “—cold. You have another show in two days. If you show up on my doorstep, I'm not opening the door.”
From the silence on his end, you knew he wasn't in total agreement with you. Maybe the bottle slamming was a little much, but his statement had surprised you. It didn't make sense for him to drop everything for you when you were experiencing something so trivial as a cold.
Not unkindly, you said to him, “I appreciate the concern, but you have bigger things to worry about and care about.”
“You will always be the most important thing I care about.”
His admission was so sincere that your heart gave a violent palpitation in your chest. You struggled to swallow, and it wasn't just because your throat was sore. “And I feel the same way about you,” you murmured, “but I can take care of myself, okay? I'll be back to normal in no time.”
You heard a sigh from his end. “I know; you're right. I just… wish I was there with you right now.”
You could understand that—it was how you felt. But some things couldn't be helped, and Yunho needed to be where he was and you needed to be where you were. You could hold down the fort while he was gone taking over the world by storm.
You closed the bathroom door to give an extra barrier between your voice and where Trinity was studying in her room. After knocking back a couple painkillers, you seated yourself on the floor with your back against the bathtub and your knees pulled up to your chest. “You know what's kind of ironic?” You coughed into your elbow and wrestled down another one bubbling up in your throat. You shouldn't have been speaking so much, but you could deal with the repercussions later. “I think I freaked out when you said you were going to fly home, not just because that's insane, but also because I was going to surprise you by flying out to your show in a couple days.”
He sucked in a breath. “You were gonna come surprise me?”
“Yeah,” you muttered, swiping at your nose and tucking your chin to your knees. Then you had to go and screw it all up, and you couldn't even get your money back. You pretty much accepted that you weren't going to be better by the time the day rolled around, especially not for travel. “I'm sorry I couldn't come see you.”
“No, don't be sorry!” He cooed. “I'm—I’m really sorry you're sick and I'm sad you couldn't make it, but… but think of it this way, hm? As soon as you get better, I'll fly you out to whatever city I'm in and we can hang out and you can come to the concert. All you have to do is get better for me.”
You didn't know if your schedule would allow after this setback, but you were going to remain optimistic. With a small glimmer of hope peering through your chest, you replied, “Okay.”
“Okay,” he said, and you could hear the fond smile in his voice.
“By the way,” you began, and had to clear your throat from how congested it was getting. Maybe some hot tea would do you good. You clambered to your feet to get out of this bathroom and do just that. “Was there a reason you called originally or was it just to say hi?”
A beat of hesitation passed between your question and his answer. “Ah…” There was a wince in his voice, “I, uhm, called because I wanted to know if you'd seen something online, but obviously you haven't 'cause you were asleep, but…”
Seen something online? Your movements with your electric kettle paused. Had someone posted something about Yunho? “What is it, Yun?” Who's ass did you need to beat?
“Seonghwa hyung found out that someone leaked the hidden track online a few hours ago.”
You leaned your cheek against your palm, eyebrows knitting together. “Shit, dude. I'm so sorry,” you said with a frown. That meant some rando on the internet had hacked into someone's files and leaked the song.
A sharp exhale from Yunho's end. “Yeah, I dunno. We're working on getting it taken down right now, but in the event it can't be done soon enough, I think I'm just gonna release the deluxe version in a couple hours.”
It seemed by his response that it wasn't the hacking that was his primary concern. Leaked, unreleased songs happened to every major artist in the industry, and it had most definitely happened to Yunho before this. But this time… this time felt different. You knew how hesitant he was to release this, and having the track get released to the public on terms that weren't his? Well, that just wasn't fair.
“You don't,” you said softly, reaching for a mug in the top cabinet to plop your tea bag into, “have to release it officially right now. You can still wait until you're comfortable.”
You heard sounds of shuffling on his end, followed by the sound of a door opening. You thought you heard Yeosang's voice as he murmured something to Yunho. The exchange was swift, but it reminded you that your time with your best friend here was limited.
“Do you need to go?” You asked, trying to cover up your hope that he didn't have to with nonchalance.
He hummed. “It's okay, I have a few minutes left. They want me to 'okay’ a couple things out on set, but that can wait. Uhm… as for what you said about releasing it—I,” he sighed, “I think this was the push I needed to finally drop it, y'know? I think either way I was going to be scared for—for people to hear it—for you to hear it. But uhm… yeah. That's all I wanted to say. I think it'll probably be released whenever you wake up.”
You poured the hot water of your tea bag, setting the kettle down gently. Letting the steam rise up to help clear your congestion, you could finally think a little clearer now. “I'm sorry this didn't happen on your terms.”
“I appreciate that. I hope you like the song—I… I really hope you like the song.”
A smile tugged at the corners of your lips. “I'm going to like the song, rockstar. You have nothing to worry about, I promise.”
He let out a small laugh and the sound of his happiness, however big or small, made your chest feel heavy. “I’ve missed you so much,” he rasped out. “So much.”
You pressed your forehead to your fist, willing the prickling feeling of tears at bay. “I wish I was there—I’ve wished I was there with you the moment you left. But I'm so, so proud of you. I know I've said this before, but you belong on that stage, Yunho. I'll be there… I'm always there in spirit.”
“You can't say that and expect me not to fly my ass home right now.”
You sputtered out a laugh, which was probably a bad idea, because it led to an utter disaster of a coughing fit. When you finally managed to get a reign on things, you picked up your mug of tea and took a couple ginger sips. It was still piping hot, but whatever scalding temperature it was at somehow soothed your throat and your head.
You set the cup down. “Again, I'll be there in no time, I promise.”
“You swear on your life?”
You sighed, but you pressed your lips into a smile. “I swear on my life.”
Yunho's departure from this call was imminent, and so you made further promises to get plenty of rest and to take care of yourself. You only did so when he promised to do the same for himself. Just after you both hung up, you received a text message from him: Stay up for five more minutes!! The delivery's almost there.
You huffed out a rough-sounding laugh, and bit your tongue around a smile. Of course he had still ordered you stuff. You shook your head to settle on one of the kitchen stools to nurse your tea and wait for the delivery to get here.
When the driver was safely out of bounds of your door, you poked your head out into the hallway to grab the paper bags seated on your doorstep. You had only expected medicine and maybe dinner, but not only were there cold medicines, orange juice, and hot soup from the bistro down the street, but there was a bouquet of flowers there, too.
Butterflies fluttered in your stomach as you pulled everything into the safety of your apartment. Damn Jeong Yunho and his gestures. It didn't mean anything—they were just Get Well Soon flowers, but why did you kind of wish they were more than that?
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The Youth album's fourteenth track entitled your space hit the charts at number two. By the time you woke up, still sick as hell, the track had been officially released for about eight hours. You rolled over in bed to guzzle down half a bottle of water and cold medicine, then grabbed your phone.
It seemed that social media blew up while you were asleep. The deluxe drop was trending under a couple different tags, and based on initial skims, you were happy to report that most had everything good to say about it.
Though, some of the commentary made you pause. He has to be seeing someone, said one user. Look at these lyrics. These could only be produced by a man in love.
You had to swipe out of the app at that point. Instead, you went over to yours, Yunho's, and Mingi's group chat together where Mingi and Yunho had waged a meme war while you were asleep after Mingi wished you a “Get Better Soon” message. You sent back your own meme in response and opened your music streaming app to find track fourteen.
The boys would probably all be asleep by now, so they wouldn't respond any time soon.
You found your space exactly where you thought it would be, at the very bottom of the deluxe album. You sat yourself up against your headboard, plugged your earbuds in, then hit play.
If only you knew how much it would rock your world.
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Hongjoong was never wrong about his hunches. It had been about a week and a half since you came down with an awful cold and couldn't make it to your intended surprise show, and slightly less than that since the deluxe album dropped. Even before the tour started, life was a whirlwind, but now that the tour was only ramping up further from this point, it had been nothing short of a total rush.
Different cities every week, at least two nights a city—all of it took a toll on both the staff and artist involved. Hongjoong's hunch, however, regarded the artist in particular as he watched said artist keep his smile up to say goodnight to the remainder of the stadium workers who lingered for cleanup. Yesterday was their last show date in this city, and today, Yunho and his team had come by to help load everything up for transport to their next destination. Tomorrow, they would fly out and be in the next city to begin preparing for the next round.
But as Yunho began making his way toward the exit where Hongjoong was waiting for him, it was impossible to miss the immediate exhaustion that flooded his features. He carded a hand through his hair as he checked his phone, then pocketed it in the back pocket of his pants.
“Hey,” Yunho nodded to Hongjoong as he met him at the exit and they both walked out into the chilly evening together. There was already a car waiting at the curb to take them back to their hotel—there was still so much that needed to be done before they left for the airport tomorrow.
“Hey,” he said back. “Everything okay?”
Yunho glanced over at him. “Huh? Oh, yeah. I'm fine; just tired. I think it's a good thing I started packing before we came here earlier,” he mused. For him to pack early? A miracle.
Hongjoong bobbed his head in understanding. “Yeah, I get that, but that's not really—you know you can be honest with me, right? I know this has all been… a lot.” And Hongjoong would understand; he had been in the public eye for so long now, and all of that could be so incredibly draining. From catering to fans and journalists and sponsors, it could be difficult finding himself amongst all that mess.
Plus, Yunho had the added bit of being away from home for a very long time. From what Hongjoong understood, Yunho only used to tour relatively close to home, and when it was farther, it was during his school breaks. He also knew that you were an integral part of Yunho's sanity, and that even before he reached this level of fame, you were his rock, his anchor, his ground control.
Being away from you for so long was beginning to show. When Hongjoong brought it up offhandedly to Mingi, Mingi was swift to agree.
“I—” Yunho began as he slipped into the passenger seat and Hongjoong into the back of the car. He murmured a soft greeting to the driver before strapping himself in with a seatbelt. “—it definitely has been hard,” he admitted with a sigh. “I don't know, Joong. You know that rush you get while onstage, but it just comes crashing down a couple hours later? Like the adrenaline leaves you all at once and all you crave for is home?”
Hongjoong pursed his lips, watching Yunho lean the side of his head against the window as he watched the world pass by. “Yeah, I do,” he said quietly. “The moments between all the rush and excitement, you're no longer distracted from how much it all is.”
A nod. “Yeah.”
“You miss her?” It was less of a question and more so a statement. Hongjoong's hunches were never incorrect. It was both a blessing and a curse.
Yunho's quiet was answer enough.
Hongjoong played around with the back of his phone case. He knew you had listened to the song—he’d asked Yunho and you'd texted Hongjoong, too. Yunho reported that you gushed about the song and affirmed him in all his choices and lyricism as always, but he was certain that you didn't get it. But when you had run to Hongjoong questioning your own feelings and if Yunho had been scared to tell you if he was in love with someone, Hongjoong could confidently say that you did get it, just not one hundred percent.
There was still miscommunication in the message, but he knew that was only something that the two of you could sort out.
“Have you guys talked since last week?”
“Yeah, we have. She's been…” He pushed a breath out of his mouth, “... She's been working her ass off trying to make up for the amount of time she was sick. I don't even know how she isn't getting sick again. I mean—all the shit she has to weather through—I wish I could help.”
And he couldn't, not like how he wanted to, not from so far away. Maybe that was what was eating him up inside the most, besides the fact he believed his feelings to be unrequited.
The car pulled up to the back entrance of the hotel Yunho and his team were staying at for the time being. The two of them thanked the driver on their way out, and they were swiftly greeted by employees coming out of the back for their breaks.
When they reached the warmth of their hotel floor's hallway, Yunho said to Hongjoong, “I miss her so much.” He shoved his hands into the pockets of his Youth World Tour hoodie, eyes lined in silver. “I worry about her so much, too. I'm sure she worries just as much about me and I know that she's more than capable about taking care of herself—’cause god, she was the one who kept me afloat all these years, and I—”
I love her.
He slapped his key card against the reader and shoved into his hotel room with Hongjoong trailing after with a sympathetic frown on his face.
“It just feels wrong sometimes when I can't be with her. Is that crazy?”
Hongjoong settled a warm hand on Yunho's shoulder as the latter sat down on the edge of his bed. “It's not crazy,” he said. He'd felt like that about a person, once upon a time. After everything Hongjoong had gone through with his last relationship, one might think he didn't believe in love, but he was still clawing for it. He wanted something that he could see manifesting between you and Yunho. He wanted to help you reach that.
He sighed and sat down next to him. “It's completely valid to feel this way, y'know? She's been a huge part of your life and your passions, and for you to see all this without her seems incomplete.”
Yunho nodded. “Yeah.”
“You can go home whenever you want, you realize that?” Hongjoong asked. “We have time built into each week to give you rest days, man. We can make that work.” It might be a little tiring for so much travel, but one trip back wouldn't hurt, especially when it could help his mental state more than simply powering through.
“I know,” he replied. “I don't… I just feel like I want her to see that I can do this, that she didn't put her trust and energy into someone who would fall so fast—”
“Do you seriously believe she would think about you that way?”
Yunho's expression shuddered, and he let out a shaky breath as he shook his head.
Hongjoong arched his brow. “Exactly. She would never fault you for needing a break. Being human is not a sign of weakness, Yunho. She's your best friend—I think she has more forgiveness and compassion for you than that.”
Yunho swallowed. Of course what Hongjoong said was right. You wouldn't look at him any different if he needed a break; it was just a thing about being kinder to himself. But sometimes it was hard to put that into perspective, and perhaps he just needed someone to do that for him.
With no good choice made without a decent night of sleep, Hongjoong bid Yunho goodnight.
As soon as Hongjoong slipped out of his friend's room, he sighed and mentally calculated what time it would be where you were. You should have been awake.
And awake, you definitely were.
You would be lying if you said you hadn't been listening to the song your space on repeat for the past week and a half. Even as you sat in one of the campus dining halls doing work and eating your crappy sandwich for lunch, your headphones were spilling with your best friend's gorgeous croons.
You questioned everything at the same time. You'd figured out two days after you first heard it that you were in love with your best friend.
The lyrics had resonated with you, and you had come to the startling conclusion that you felt the song's meaning toward Yunho.
All you could do since was freak the fuck out and tell Yunho that the song was incredible. You didn't know who the song was for or about, but you knew it was important to him because of how scared he was to release it. Had he been scared to tell you he was in love with someone? Why?
Sometimes you found yourself tearing apart the lyrics like a rabid trash panda.
I couldn't ever leave you behind They couldn't ever take me away Baby, if I could pick a heaven on Earth It would be anywhere in your space.
You broke away from your work and sandwich to the sound of a text notification. Suddenly remembering how loud your vibration ringer was, you silenced it, then opened up Hongjoong's message: I know you're probably moping and eating a shitty sandwich—what. You glanced down at said shitty sandwich that sat in its equally sad plastic container. How did he know…? —and he's not doing well either. He's miserable, dude.
Everything slowed for you, and it was no longer about your so-called epiphany. You felt your entire body and mood drop at the news. You'd seen social media posts commenting on Yunho's stage presence and brightness never fading, but there were always the one or two who noted something along the lines of him seeming too tired or that perhaps he didn't have enough stamina for this.
The latter comments made your blood pressure spike, but there was, unfortunately, some truth to it. You just didn't think it was this bad.
You pressed the backs of your knuckles against your eyes. You hadn't been doing the best, clearly, and you knew that it was largely because you missed him. Being away from someone you considered home for so long meant that you were bound to get homesick.
You didn't know what to do. There was so much work to be done, and you had just caught up. On top of that, you were short a few hundred dollars from the last time you tried to fly out.
Another message buzzed in from Hongjoong: I think you guys really need to talk.
The organ in your chest rattled around in its cage; it longed to be with its partner. You were starting to understand that now.
The song playing in your ear was slowly petering out, and all you could hear was his voice.
And I've kinda been wanting to ask if we can Skip the 'why’ and get to the 'our’ Because baby, I love your space But I love ours more.
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Yunho had not flown home that week. Some emergencies had sprung up as soon as they landed in their new city, and all bets were off to be able to go home. All that he could do was buckle down and get comfortable. Even so, he knew how to make the best out of a situation.
As he stood at the very center of the main stage, he held a hand up to shield his eyes from the bright spotlights shining down on him now.
“Is that better?” Hongjoong's voice echoed throughout the near-empty stadium.
From one of the balconies, Jongho cupped his hands up around his mouth to scream at the top of his lungs, “LOOKS GOOD, HYUNG!”
“Jongho,” Yunho chuckled into his microphone, “did someone not get you a headset, bro?”
A beat passed, and then, “NO.”
Mildly amused laughter cropped up around the stadium in reaction to the youngest's troubles. It was little moments like these where Yunho could forget for one second just how tiring all of this amounted to become. His smile was genuine, and his tongue darted out to trace his teeth—
“Jeong Yunho, put your damn tongue away.”
Yunho's eyes went as wide as saucers, his expression morphing into something like childlike surprise as he immediately retracted his tongue into his mouth. But in the split second it took his brain to process the words that had been said, he also recognized the voice who'd said them. From the big screen, any one of the staff members or you could see the way his face stretched into the widest grin possible, his eyes lighting up like spotlights.
He lifted the mic in his hand up to his lips as he tilted his eyes up to the sound and lighting box far up in the stands. From where he was onstage, he could just make out the shape of you in the box next to Hongjoong—the sneaky bastard. “Ln Yn, get your ass down here right now,” he said, hardly able to contain the excitement in his voice.
You didn't need to be told twice.
You raced down the stadium steps from the box, your legs carrying you as fast as humanly possible without falling. Yunho leapt off the stage and left his microphone behind to meet you in the middle.
Somewhere between the pit and mezzanine, you flew into his arms and he caught you, spinning you around. The glee on both of your faces was enough to make everyone stop and appreciate the tangible love before them. Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes and you pursed your lips to subdue them. You squeezed him as tight as you possibly could; his arms held you firmly around your waist, head tucked into the joint between your neck and shoulder.
“You're here,” he croaked with tears in his voice now. You heard him sniffle, and only held him tighter. He felt the added strength and let out a sob. “I missed you so much.”
Oh, for fuck's sake—you started bawling like a baby. “I—” you sucked in a breath, “—I heard—so I booked a flight—”
This only caused his body to tremble harder. “Oh god… Yn… I…”
You sniffled and brushed your hand over the back of his head in an attempt to get both of you to calm down. “Hey, don't worry about it, okay? It doesn't matter; you know I'd drop everything for you.” When his only response was to press his wet eyes against the heat of your neck, you blinked away your tears. “Plus, I missed you, too, rockstar.”
Yunho let out a watery laugh, gently setting you down onto solid ground. You both looked like a hot mess and a half: snot dripping out of your noses, eyes red and drowned in salty tears. The adrenaline rush from the surprise had trickled out of your system, but your heartbeat continued to rattle around in your chest with reckless abandon. His messy, damp hair; the wobbly shine in his dark brown irises; the way he smiled at you with that something on his face… he was everything to you.
“Glad to know the feeling's mutual,” he said, nudging you with his elbow, then pawing at his eyes to wipe the tears away.
“Good to see you, Yn!” San piped up from the stage with his microphone. He had picked up Yunho's microphone from where he'd abandoned it to come meet you.
You laughed, lifting a hand up in a wave. “Hey, San! Hi everyone!”
Chimes of greetings from all the other boys and staff members cropped up from all around the arena.
Yunho brushed a hand through his hair and wrapped an arm around your shoulders. “Did all you fuckers know about this?”
Mingi was perched on the ledge of the stage. His grin seemed to be the widest after watching your reunion. He tugged the microphone attached to his earpiece closer to his mouth. “Don't tell us you're not grateful now.”
“Nah, I'm just surprised Wooyoung was able to keep his mouth shut.”
Wooyoung didn't need a microphone to let you all know of his offense. You could hear his squawk of disapproval all the way from where you stood—crazy how acoustics worked.
Yunho heard your laugh from beside him, and he glanced over at you to catch the fond look on your face. He hadn't stopped smiling for the past five minutes, and it didn't matter how much his cheeks hurt. You were here; that was all that mattered.
“This place is—” you marveled as the two of you began walking down the stairs together toward the stage. The backs of your hands brushed against one another, breaths away from touching, from lacing, from being together. “—huge. It's so much more—” You felt your lip wobble again, “I don't even know why I'm getting emotional. It's all you dreamed of as a kid, wasn't it?”
The tears pricked at the edges of his eyes again, and the two of you looked back at each other with equally wet eyes and bright smiles. “Yeah,” he nodded, swiping at his eyes.
“You deserve it.”
“All thanks to you,” he said with a sniffle, hugging you to him again. You were solid and real beneath his fingertips—he was so happy you were here. This was where you belonged; none of this felt right without you.
When you finally reached the bottom of the pit, Yunho had to run back up to the stage, and you went through the aisles until you found your perfect seat. It wasn't long before Mingi bounded up the steps to come join you. He brought you in for a long awaited hug of his own.
“What's good, Yn?” He asked with a soft chuckle as he pulled away and settled in the seat to your left.
Just ahead, Yunho appeared onstage with his microphone in hand, and the two of you lifted your hands in sync to wave to your best friend.
You adjusted your bag in your lap, and clasped a hand on Mingi's shoulder. “This is surreal. Does it feel surreal?”
Mingi's lips pulled into a smile as nostalgia made his vision cloudy. “It does, every single time. I'm glad you're finally here—we’re all very happy that you're here now.”
You bumped your head against his shoulder and let it rest there for a moment, and his hand came up to gently pat your head to tell you he understood. You didn't need to say anything.
For the next hour and a half, you and Mingi got to watch Yunho and everyone else run through the last of the day's lighting checks. Periodically, someone else from Yunho's personal team would come and sit with the two of you, then leave quickly when they had something else on their to-do list.
At last, when the session wrapped up and everyone was sent to go home for an early night, you rushed down to meet with Yunho again.
He waited for you to be at his side before leading you down toward backstage. “There's a couple things I need to grab in my dressing room before we can head back to the hotel.” A thought suddenly interrupted his thoughts and his eyes widened. “Do you have accommodations? Please tell me you do.”
“Don't worry—I promise I'm not sleeping on the streets,” you teased. You'd figured all of that out pretty last minute with Hongjoong and Mingi's help.
Yunho nodded, a smile coming to his face. “Okay, good. I was gonna offer my room and I could sleep on the pullout couch.”
The thought of sleeping in the same room as him made your skin warm, and if you hadn't realized your feelings for him before, you would be confused as to why you were so flustered at the thought now. It wouldn't be the first time you had a sleepover. But this would be… different. Oh lord.
The backstage hallways were scarce and dimly lit in order to save energy, but it was enough to guide you and Yunho's way to the star dressing room. You swallowed as you reached the door—the facade plastered with a pretty, gold star with his name on it—and followed him inside.
“Hey, Yun?” You asked him as you lingered by the door and he rushed around to grab his things. The room was decently spacious, and definitely larger than all the other ones from his past tours.
“Mhm?”
“Could we… talk about something?”
He glanced back over his shoulder as he threw things into his bag. “Yeah, ‘course.”
You toed at the polished ground, fingers twisting and wringing in front of you. “It’s about the song. The, uhm, the your space one.”
His movements paused. He looked up and connected gazes with you through the vanity mirror in front of him. Yunho cleared his throat and ducked his head to zip up his bag. “What—what about it?” He asked, shouldering his bag and meeting you back at the door.
He seemed unable to look you in the eyes directly now as he closed the door behind the both of you as you stepped out into the empty hallway.
“I just,” you stammered. Blood rushed up to your face and you could hear your heartbeat thundering in your ears. “I needed to know—I didn’t need to know—it’s your life and your song, and you have every right to have feelings for someone without me knowing. And I think I’m asking this for selfish reasons, but… are you seeing someone?”
The question caught him off guard, his eyes blowing wide open. “Wh—no. No, I am not seeing anyone. Why do you ask?”
“The song—I know I shouldn’t be indulging in what people on the internet say, much less in the opinions of those who don’t even know you, but I couldn’t help but agree with them when they say the lyrics, the—the feeling of the song—you’re in love, and I—” Your breath caught in your throat as you choked on the words lodged there: And I am in love with you.
Yunho pushed an exhale out of his mouth and stepped toward you. So much shone in his eyes right then, and it didn’t matter how much light there was in this damn hallway, his eyes would always glitter like twin diamonds. “I am in love with someone. Yn, I’m in love with you,” he said. “I thought that the song would make it obvious, which is why I was so scared for you to hear it, but I realize now that this was just something I should have said outright.”
Your heart fluttered in your chest and it wasn’t from the nerves anymore. God, your knees felt like buckling from the force of the tenderness in his eyes alone. “You’re—you’re in love with me?”
“I am,” he nodded. He slowly reached for your hands and clasped them within his own. “I’ve been in love with you since that day you ran out of Science Olympiad practice to come to my audition; I’ve been in love with you from the moment you yelled at me for not being ambidextrous and I had beef jerky in my mouth—”
“I did not yell at you!”
He broke out into a cheeky, yet fond grin, his hand coming up to cup the side of your face with his hand. “I’ve been in love with you for so long that I can’t imagine what life was like before I was in love with you—and yes, you did yell, but you can yell at me as much as you like, and I would still be head-over-heels for you.”
Your lip curled in on itself at all of his words, at everything he was revealing to you now. You wished you had known—oh, god, you wish you had known. You didn’t know if things would have been different, but for some reason, you had a feeling that all paths might have led here nonetheless.
You squeezed his hand between your own now. “You’re everything to me, Jeong Yunho,” you rasped out, unable to put strength behind your voice for fear of all of the emotion about to spill out. “And I’m so stupid for taking so long to figure it all out, but I’m in love with you, too, and I’d be damned if I let another day pass without you knowing that.”
Something washed over him in that moment, and he laughed, leaning over to cup the back of your neck and rest his forehead against your own. It was ridiculous, the fact that both of you were giggling and smiling at such a precipice of emotion, but it felt right.
You could feel the warmth of his breath against your lips as he murmured, “Fuck, I wanna kiss you so bad.”
“Then come kiss me, rockstar,” you said, looping your arms around his neck. You drew him down to your mouth and felt his body mold against your own. Every crevice and curve slotted so perfectly with one another, and the heavy longing in your chest slowly eased.
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“You guys have been incredible for me tonight—” Yunho beamed as he walked toward the front, center stage and looped the electric guitar strap over his head to the sound of the roaring crowd, “—so I've got a little surprise for you.”
One of the staff members had set out a mic stand and bottle water for him, and he approached both items to fit the microphone into place. Tonight was the Friday night concert being held in this city, and the energy was dialed to one thousand in all the best ways.
He held onto the microphone with one hand. “This song is dedicated to—written for—my best friend in the world, the love of my life, my stargirl. I'm sure you know it—you crazies debuted it at number two on the charts—this is your space.”
His smile tugged up wider at the reaction he received. If anyone in the crowd didn't know the song, they were about to fall in love.
Yunho laughed, shaking his head, as he began checking to make sure his guitar was tuned with practiced, nimble fingers. “Oh, by the way—” he pointed up at the accessory he wore, the crocheted headband holding his hair up and out of his face, with a row of stars across its band, “—she made this for me. Isn't it cute?”
The stadium echoed in choruses of “aw” and cheers.
He could only duck his head with a smile, eyes twinkling with fondness and tenderness at the thought of you. You were in the crowd, but you could be up here with him in spirit. “Yeah, that was me, too.”
After you and Yunho left the stadium yesterday, hands intertwined and a new page in your relationship turned, you’d gone back to his hotel to share a restful evening in one another’s presences. You revealed later that night that you spent the four or five days you were bedridden practicing your crocheting skills until you were able to make him a headband. A row of three stars studded the length of it—stars for your rockstar.
Yunho struck his fingers down the strings of his guitar with a gentle rocking motion from his opposite hand to let the sound reverberate around the stadium. The crowd cried in love as his soulful, beautiful voice filled their ears with love of his own. And as his fans filed out of the stadium for the night and headed home, Yunho could finally return to his home. Because you were here now… no matter how far, no matter the distance, the two of you would always find a way to be in the other's space.
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a/n: pls remember to reblog, comment, and send asks if you enjoyed!
atz m.list
permanent taglist: @flwoie @vatterie @seomisaho @hqrana @ja4hyvn @outrologist @rikizm @tinkerbell460 @meosjinn @hyunjaespresent-deobi @stayarmytinyzenmoa-l @floatingpluto @gyulfriend @jaehunnyy @shakalakaboomboo @soonyoungblr @justanotherkpopstanlol @kangfication @pxppxrminty @fluorescentloves @haechansbbg @jaerisdiction @super-btstrash-posts @jundundun @http-gyu @mvvnsseul @mars101 @kflixnet
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baby-alien11 · 1 year ago
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being the good girl dating Ethan Morales
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Since the beggining of high school, well even before that, you were known as the girl who never got in trouble, got good grades and never went to parties, you were always invited, but never attended due to being occupied with school
You use to hang out with Devi, Eleanor and Fabiola because they were nice and study hang outs were always fun
Because of your personality and calmed aura, everyone expected you to date someone similar to you
So, when at the beggining of senior year you and Ethan Morales entered the school holding hands, everyone lost their minds, even the teachers
Theories started to fload almost inmediatly, some said that he lost a bet, others that it was a joke, some that you entered your rebel phase
But in reality, everything was real
Things started during summer when the both of you encounter at a night at a 7/11 where you went to get some snacks for the week, Ethan was there but getting some beers with his fake id
Unfortunately that night, you somehow forgot to take your wallet with you, and in a weird turn of events Ethan who was behind you in the line, pay for your snacks
"So, what's the princess doing this late out of her castle?", Ethan asked before you could leave, "What happened to the guardian dragons?"
"They are out of town", you responded knowing that he was refering to your parents, "And don't call my parents that"
"That doesn't respond my first question"
"I run out of my secret snacks and didn't want to wait until tomorrow"
"In that case, let me see what I just pay"
Without asking for permition, Ethan just started to dig into the bag until he pulled out a package of Sour Patch Kids
"Those are my favourites", you shrugged
"Mines too", Ethan smiled
In response, you also smiled feeling comfortable with him
That was the beggining of a friendship that evolute to a relationship
Even if the school found the relationship weird, you and Ethan were happy with each other
Thanks to you, he started to get better notes at school
And your spanish got better thanks to him
Heaven by Julia Michaels was your official relationship song
If someone ever think of messing with you, the next day or even sooner, the person will have something damaged
While you liked to wear some of his clothes like sweatshirts, frannels or shirts, he liked to wear your scrunchies and hair ties, your accesories like necklaces, bracelets and even some of your earings
Surprisingly, your parents loved him
At first they weren't so sure about the whole thing because of his bad boy look, but after seeing how happy both of you were, they started to accept it
Even if your parents kinda like him, both of you liked when they weren't in town because that meant Ethan spent all of that time in your house
Sex with him was amazing, and got better every single time
When your birthday arrived, he gifted you a Sour Patch plushie that somehow found online
You found that so sweet because it represented the first interaction between you two
He was the kind of guy that would do anything for you, even if it includes let you do a skin care routine on him or watch your favorite show or movie, doesn't matter how corny it is
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guardianofnightmares · 26 days ago
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Attack
“And remember: there is enough fuel in those rods for couple of maneuvers and a descent. That’s it.” Blitzwing said in a stern tone while adjusting some screws on minibot’s backplates. “I highly recommend you to not stray far away from your group for too long.”
He knew that his companion was not that reckless to go on adventures of his own on a battlefield, but it’s still difficult not to worry about mechs’ safety. Even if the targeting systems of an Autobots’ flagship "Endeavor" were supposed to be down by the beginning of an operation, its guns would still be working at full capacity.
Chances of being shot by a random plasma beam were still pretty high.
“I know, Blitzwing, I know,” said minibot sighed in defeat. His spirits were not that much higher than everyone else’s lately.
“But hey,” He continued, “Even if I wanted to, I doubt Megacon would allow me to go sightseeing without him… And if I indeed managed to do just that, my fear of withering away from his lecture about my recklessness definitely outweighs the fun of getting into troubles.”
----------
Phew, third entry for the @blitzbee-week event has arrived at last. Prompt of a third day was "Attack", which turned out to be quite an interesting one to create a piece for. Eventually, I've decided to picture a scene of preparations for one of first major battles in a story of mine. Considering a fact that a mentioned scene takes place at the beginning of a second part/volume of a fanfic, I found it to be a good opportunity to show an evolution of relationship between characters (at least in comparison to previous entries).
Fanfic the scene is taken from is called "TFA: Icarus". You can read it by following a [link] for the series "folder" which also includes an existing teaser (future prologue) for a story. The updates are slow, I know, I am sorry for a delay, I was very busy with a job of mine lately and I do not know when the situation will change for better. Despite all of it, I'm still deeply grateful for every subscription and "like" you leave under works for this project of mine. Know that I see and appreciate every kind gesture of yours).
As always, if anyone is interested to know what's going on "behind the scenes" of a picture, I will provide the full snippet of a depicted interaction under a cut line. Hope you'll enjoy it. Especially those of you, who read previous "chapters" of mine, for you might find a reference here to one of them ;)
Bumblebee finally glanced at a Decepticon sitting on his haunches behind his back. The Warframe’s been checking on a Cybertronian analogue of a humans’ “parachute” for the last half of megacycle, trying to secure the massive carcass on a frame it was not meant to be worn by. 
“How’s it looking?” The Bot asked. Not out of vanity, for once, but rather out of practicality - a bleak, outdated “jetpack” was the smallest one they could salvage, and it’s still way too big for a mech of Bumblebee’s proportions. Several kilograms of metal more and it’d have begun to tip a yellow colored Autobot over. 
“… It’ll have to do.” 
A brisk, honest and not so uplifting answer. But, come to think of it, Bumblebee would’ve been more surprised to hear a reassuring comment coming from a Triplechanger. 
A notion that Bumbler was capable of periodically predicting Con’s responses almost made him chortle. The possibility of his team forming a bond with Warframes over the course of a stellar cycle after an escape from Cybertron was improbable at best. And yet, there they were - trying to work as a single unit despite ever present old grudges. 
For a goal they were fighting for together against a common foe was more important than any of their just (and unjust) beliefs. 
“And remember: there is enough fuel in those rods for couple of maneuvers and a descent. That’s it.” Blitzwing said in a stern tone while adjusting some screws on minibot’s backplates. “I highly recommend you to not stray far away from your group for too long.”
He knew that his companion was not that reckless to go on adventures of his own on a battlefield, but it’s still difficult not to worry about mechs’ safety. Even if the targeting systems of an Autobots’ flagship "Endeavor" were supposed to be down by the beginning of an operation, its guns would still be working at full capacity.
Chances of being shot by a random plasma beam were still pretty high.
“I know, Blitzwing, I know,” said minibot sighed in defeat. His spirits were not that much higher than everyone else’s lately.
“But hey,” He continued, “Even if I wanted to, I doubt Megacon would allow me to go sightseeing without him... And if I indeed managed to do just that, my fear of withering away from his lecture about my recklessness definitely outweighs the fun of getting into troubles.”
The last comment earned him a snort from a companion.
“Yes, he tends to do exactly that. You’d be insanely lucky if that was the only punishment coming upon your helm,” Blitzwing agreed in a more lighthearted tone. “Especially since, it seems, Megatron’s already figured out where someone prefers to spend their shift at once in a while.”
“…what do you mean by that?” Bumblebee asked worriedly after a short lived pause - he could almost “see” a smirk plastered across Blitzwing’s faceplates with the back of his own helm. And if he’s learnt anything about a Con over the last orbital cycles, it’s that him being smug never promised anything good for a yellow and black Bot. 
“Let’s just say that if a certain hiding spot is indeed real, I’ll make sure to send you energon treats during a “home arrest” of yours.” Blitzwing mused out loud. A followed groan full of despair, which came from a small mech, made Blitzwing slip an amused laugh. 
And here a minibot hoped that Megatron would be any different than a so-called Bossbot of his. 
---
Soon after the Trpilechanger’s done everything he could in order to make Bumbler’s descent to a flagship safer, a huge figure appeared at an entrance to a bay. Bumbler noticed a newcomer only when a said mech contacted him via personal comlink, voice commanding yet devoid of usual rasp undertones. 
“Time to go, minibot,” Megatron announced, as if wanting to make sure that his arrival was interpreted as a sign to wrap preparations up. It made both Cybertronians to pause their conversation and to look up at an arrived Decepticon. 
The red and grey mech stood with his servos being clasped behind his back, polished shoulder pauldrons proudly shining under a warm artificial light. One of his chest plates bared signs of a recent scuffle at one of remote outposts - the right side was adorned with a fresh wielding patchwork, performed by Ratchet himself, which hid an ugly and deep scar. 
The sight of a quickly healing wound reminded Bumblebee of an amusing memory he’d witnessed in a medbay the other day - Ratchet and Megatron bickering with each other about who’s a true madmech between two of them, while a medic was performing mentioned repairs. The fact that a Warlord received an injury during a rescue of a red and white Autobot, who stayed behind in order to cover their team’s escape, seemed to slip out of both of their processors. Ratchet was nigh unstoppable in his fury, and it seemed that Megatron’s finally found someone who could rival his own stubbornness. Something, all members of a team were certain of, both older mechs secretly admired about each other. 
With raised up spirits, minibot quickly picked up a bag of tools, which laid near a working bench, and waved goodbye to a Triplechanger, who stayed behind to tidy a working place up. 
Blitzwing couldn’t hear what his two comrades were talking about while standing at an exit to a bay, but he could still observe the interaction between them. 
The height difference between mechs was ridiculous. It became especially obvious when Megatron lowered himself to a ground in order to access electronic panel of a “jetpack”, while Bumblebee was checking on contents of a bag of his. To Blitzwing, the scene almost resembled the way human parent would interact with their child after meeting them from an educational establishment back on Earth. Come to think of it, Bumbler looked like a sparkling in comparison to all of Warframes, which made the situation even more amusing in Blitzwing’s optics. 
After switching on needed components, the grey Decepticon activated a program in his own engine’s software. Both mechs synchronized recently updated broadcasting frequencies of their flying gear, and the “jetpack” came to life with a faint glow of its side lights.
A model of a “parachute” may have looked old, but the technology behind an outdated surface was something to be proud of. As if to prove a point, Megatron shifted his wings from side to side, up and down. Minibot whirled his head around just in time to see his own wings mirroring movements of his larger partner with a barely there delay. Created during an expansion of territories on foreign planets, devices similar to Bumbler’s one allowed Autobots to join Decepticons in off-ground battles and explorations, going so far as to copy difficult maneuvers of Warframes with an impressive accuracy. 
A true forgotten marvel of Cybertronian engineering. 
To say that Bumblebee could barely keep his excitement under control would be an understatement. The way he puffed up his chest plates and spread his temporary wings reminded local workers of a young Warframe after the first successful training session at a boot camp, fears and doubts the Bot had about an upcoming battle diminishing at a prospect of taking the first flight in his life. Even if it’ll mostly be coordinated by a partner. 
Bumblebee faced a rising by his side Decepticon with a contagious smile plastered across his grey faceplates, blue optics glowing with eagerness. He said something to him, most likely a spicy remark about his immaculate skills as a Prime soon-to-be Flyer on a battlefield taking place in an outer space. Those jovial antics made Megatron roll his optics, after which he turned an Autobot around with a smirk and (lightly) shoved him forward in direction of a main hangar, where they would join other members of a boarding party. 
---
It’s been a while since both mechs disappeared out of the view of Triplechanger, leaving him to his own devices. The grey and violet mech was in a middle of cleaning a working bench when he received a call. 
“Hey, Blitzwing!” A booming voice of Bulkhead sounded clearly over the comlink, only interrupted by periodic screeching of metal against metal in a background. “Are you and Bumblebee finished by any chance?”
“Fortune is on your side this time, my artistic friend, - Megatron’s already picked your yellow menace up.” Warframe answered while putting instruments into their designated slots. “What’s the matter?” 
“Lugnut and I would really appreciate it, if you joined us with loading ammo on a ship - these electromagnetic emitters are putting a strain even on him. Optimus is already helping us by operating a crane, but I don’t think it’s enough for everything to be finished on time.” A green Autobot admitted guiltily. When Blitzwing was about to say something, he added: “One more thing: Optimus said that he’d like to discuss a plan of an attack with you again afterwards - something about an established route through an asteroid field doesn’t click right with him.“
Of course it didn’t. But Blitzwing could hardly blame him for being extra cautious. Truth be told, he’d expected an ex-cadet to contact him sooner or later in order to go through a plan one more time. Meaning, there’s really no point for him to act getting annoyed at a prospect of doing an additional work during a current shift. 
“Alright. Seems that by helping you I’m going to kill two cats with one stone, so, count me in.”
“It’s “two birds”, Blitzwing,” Bulkhead corrected him with an audible smile. “Anyways, I’ll be waiting for you at an entrance 4-06. Thank you.”
With that being said, the bulky Autobot hung up the call, leaving a Warframe alone with his own thoughts, smiling to himself while cleaning the last of used tools from grease and oil. 
Many things have changed since the beginning of a new cycle of War, for better and for worse. With the amount of mechs switching sides and betraying their causes, sometimes it was easier to assume, that all around you were enemies rather than to hope you had at least someone to rely on. 
Yet, despite every obstacle Outcast Autobots and Earth-stranded Decepticons had to go through so far, the newly formed squad of theirs was a proof that some things stayed the same. That Camaraderie still had a value in an ever treacherous world. And Blitzwing had a feeling that no matter what lied ahead of them, the old healed bonds and recently blossomed ones would stand the test of time.
As if coming to an internal agreement with himself, the Triplechanger shook his helm and finally headed to an agreed upon place of meeting with his unlikely comrades, while silently humming a tune Bumblebee taught him once.
Perhaps, an Autobot known as Prowl was right after all?
Perhaps, it was indeed the right time to start having Faith and Trust in teammates once more?
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