#honestly the first season is incredible and so well done

[jess-total-mess]

okay, my bff is watching the latest season of Young Justice and crying about how awful it is so lets talk about how i would rewrite the series past s1 to be less terrible and more cohesive. readmore included because this is LONG

Season One worked because it had a small cast that had individually focused episodes, good relationship dynamics, and a cohesive plot that was foreshadowed well. Kaldur with his Atlantis episode, the entire episode after the simulation disaster (perfect!), Megan and her thread about identity and her shame around it, Superboy and... whatever the fuck you want to call his arc, but it was GOOD. Artemis had a lot of focus and while Wally didn't get a lot he still has a full episode to himself in Cold Hearted. Zatanna was only there briefly, but she was well-established and even Rocket had some interesting setups despite only being there for an episode or two.

Myself and my BFF both agree that the time skip is acceptable, but needed to be shorter. Way shorter. At most, I'd put it at three years, but let's say two years. That makes Robin sixteen, for reference.

This would give us time to have a few things happen. First, have Robin be co-leader, preparing to step into his role as actual leader. Develop Rocket some more by giving her at least one episode focused on her, and giving her more screen time overall (they did her SO DIRTY). Have Zatanna have an episode with Rocket, even, make them go on a solo-mission like Zatanna and Artemis did in S1, that would be awesome!

The team would then have a lot more experience, they work together great, they know each other. This means we can introduce a few new characters. In no particular order;

Beast Boy! He was set-up in S1 to be Beast Boy, and that's great! He's twelve (?) now, and maybe his powers have activated! Have him be sent to the Mountain, or even have an episode where they go back to him (wherever he might be living now!) and have the entire backstory of his dead mum! It would be emotional for the original Team present for that episode in S1, and would be emotionally charged! Maybe he doesn't join the Team for missions yet, but get him training! Establish his character!

Aquagirl and Tempest! They're already established from S1, so bring them in for a mission. Maybe they have intel and help out on the mission, maybe they just happen to be there, it needs more thought for specifics, but have them be set up to help the Team for the end of the season.

Batgirl! She's older than Robin is in comics canon, and probably in YJ canon too (I don't think we ever actually find out). She's been established as Barbara in S1, so have her join the Team as Batgirl, struggle with the same things that Robin did when the Team was first formed (disappearing, doing her own thing, etc) and have Robin have to teach her that she's got to be a different kind of team player.

Work on establishing and foreshadowing Jason. Robin/Dick is now sixteen, so throughout the season he can transition into Nightwing and Team leader. Have moments throughout the season where he mentions a new person at home, his frustrations with Batman, and have a few moments where we actually see/hear Jason, like what they did with Barbara in S1.

Also, focus on our favourites! How is Artemis handling her sister dating Red Arrow? How is that dynamic going in general? What about Superboy and his relationship with Superman? We saw that it had improved by S2, but actually show us that happening! The two of them working together, Superboy knowing stuff that nobody else does because Superman told him, knowing his villains and studying them like we're shown he can do in S2. We could have more scenes with Red Tornado, or even focus on a different Den Mother (and have moments where the Team is fed up with having a Den Mother! Wally is an ADULT!).

We had the Light, we had NO idea the Reach was there, they weren't even foreshadowed in S1. Instead, if you really want a new main threat, use Apokolips! The enemy of the Forever People from S1, the guys who made Sphere and the motherboxes?

It's not hard to make a loose plot just based on this stuff (I'm just fucking lazy). Follow the concepts and themes of the first season, have episodes focused on relationships between members (ie. Terrors and the dynamic between Megan and Superboy, Secrets with Zatanna and Artemis bonding, you get the idea). Establish the new characters and build up to another threat that the Team has to stop without the help of the League.

Give them undercover operations that are following a thread that leads them to the Light (and whatever they might be doing with Apokolips), and have them bring everyone along! Maybe not Gar/Beast Boy (he's still young and inexperienced, so maybe he runs communications from the Mountain or something? Sneaks out? Who knows!) but have the rest of the Team go kick ass, have Aquagirl and Tempest get called on for help, and give them answers, with still more questions.

And if your really want the Reach to be involved, start foreshadowing them throughout the season! The Light is having communications with someone who isn't Apokolips? Who is it? Why? What do they want? Those can be some of the unanswered questions we're left with at the end, and then in S3 after another time skip, you can bring the Reach in, along with the Beetles and develop that!

For S3, bring in Jason as Robin, establish his character as a brawler and kind of an asshole, but make us care about him before you kill him off for no reason! (Jason's death is incredibly important character-wise but please let us learn who he is before he dies). Nightwing is fully the Team leader now, how is he handling that? He said in S1 (Disordered) that he doesn't want to be Batman anymore, the guy who makes the hard call.

How does that mesh with being team leader? How's his relationship with Jason, with Batman, with Batgirl? If you really want Oracle, you could have her get her paralysis injury from the Joker in S3 too, he's established in S1 as a villain working with the Light to some degree, so why change that?

Also if I wrote S4 I would give Stephanie/Spoiler an episode where she's the focus because I love her and she needs the opportunity to declare "I'm here to spoil your plans!" to a villain SO BADLY

[trashwithvariety]

so this has probably already been talked about in great detail since the end of the show (hannibal) but I just did a rewatch and I can't shut up about it. the incredible level of subtle details in this show is already insane but I noticed it much clearer in my rewatch during season 3 part two how quickly we see Will change.

during *The Great Red Dragon*, Will is back to mostly his pre-Hannibal self. We see him married with a family out in the country with his dogs and more specifically his clothes (I am going to be very specific about what he wears in this because it's these details that are so subtle but make his change so much more crispy). He's wearing very practical, warm weather clothes, looks like an outdoorsman.

like, reminder that this ↓

is how he shows up to meet Hannibal again for the first time in years. Glasses, coat, clearly clothes he would not think twice about wearing anywhere, kind of like how he dresses in season one. It's also in his expression and his stature (which bless Hugh Dancy for his portrayal of Will because I don't know who else could have done the subtle changes so eloquently)

now let me take you to the episode directly after (And the Woman Clothed with the Sun) he first sees Hannibal and has to come back to talk to him

i'm sorry??? Immediately with the crisp button down, tucked in, with the top buttons undone, hair slicked back, NO GLASSES and look. Look at how he stands and his expression and how comfortable he is, hands in pockets.

okay further evidence. And honestly arguably the scariest piece

it's the dead-eyed stare for me. We all know what happened to Chilton after this, and it's the fact that he knew what he was doing. God, Will was never more like Hannibal than he was at the end of season three. Clothes are not much different on purpose because he's playing the game now.

Sidebar that in almost all the scenes that he's bitchily talking to Bedelia, he's also very well dressed as if he's taking Hannibal's place in his manipulation of her.

By the time we see him in The Wrath of the Lamb, he has already decided that he wants Hannibal back. Vaguely suggesting to Jack to use Hannibal as bait for the Dragon, as if he didn't very well consider all the outcomes would likely lead to Hannibal escaping. The way they're looking conspiratorially at each other in the back of the van. How Will isn't even remotely surprised he walks out unscathed or how he doesn't question letting him drive them to wherever they're going to meet the dragon.

And once they get to the cliffside house, and they get settled and Will?

His shirt is tight, his expression is the SAME as the one Hannibal had in episode ONE season ONE, as he watches Hannibal BLEED OUT and wonders probably what they will do.

There are plenty of ways everyone that worked on this show displayed how Will was changing but I loved how they used his clothes to do it and how Hugh used his expressions to differentiate pre-Hannibal and post-Hannibal Will.

I could write a dissertation on this show it's insane and I will never shut up about my murderous gay husbands.

[originalwinnerfanfish]

Well, I did it

Megatron - I love his tfp design. Probably one of the best iteration of Megs. He is huge, heavy armoured, his face covered with scars… He doesn’t looks like an ordinary military leader who is only capable of giving orders, but like real warrior who can destroy any enemy with his bare hands.

So, in the WOF version, he definitely shares some features with Princess Burn, not only because of his might, but also because of his horns shape and dirty-dark scales (that absorbed blood of his enemies)

Starscream - Boy, I hate him so much 🤣… but in the good way, trust me! In my opinion, when the show's creators make you feel such strong negative emotions towards a villain, it means they've done a great job. Also, I think that his animation in the show was absolutely incredible, because even though he's a 3D model, he still manages to move like a 2D character, which is amazing!

I feel that in my design he still looks more like a skywing, than an icewing (which is kinda logical)

Soundwave - This one was tricky. I couldn't figure out what his mask would look like, so I just made his face a really dark color. I think Soundwave has both gifts of the nightwings, and he’s equally great at telepathy and a future vision. So he doesn't really need equipment to predict enemy movements, which makes him an ideal communicator in the WOF setting. His Laserbeak is part of the armor enchanted by Shockwave, and it might also allow him to open portals (but I'm not sure with this one)

Shockwave - My favourite evil genius. He would definitely have animus magic and mind reading. I think Shockwave is the only one who has advanced the study of magic so far, precisely because he combined it with scientific knowledge and created safer methods of using it, that don't damage the mind. It's like if a Mastermind got animus magic in books.

I also like to think that he didn't heal the damaged part of his face just so that his enemies would fear him more)

Dreadwing - This man deserved better! It's really a shame that he was removed from the show so quickly due to financial problems. It would be great if his arc got a proper conclusion in season 3.

Considering that I didn't want to make him a hybrid, it was difficult to choose a suitable color palette. So let’s just say, that I tried my best😅

I don’t think that he would have any nightwing powers, but honestly it doesn’t even matter - this guy can make a bombs, what else does he need to be cool

Arachnid - Did anyone even doubt that she would be a hivewing? Damn, she even got her own “Othermind” virus. Her design was the easiest to work with - just a little poisonous ass (suspiciously similar to Maleficent).

Just like Starscream, I hate her, but in a good way. She's one of the creepiest characters in the entire series, who’s acting like a fucking heartless monster, especially with Arcee, but even so, there's always was something mesmerizing about her. I just really like strong female villains

Knockout - Wery bright and charismatic guy, definitely one of my fav cons!

I tried to draw him as handsome as possible. Worked a lot on the face shape and coloring, and as for me it turned out pretty nice (finally).

Most decepticons think Knockout is as stupid and lazy as all the other rainwings. And it's not like he completely disagrees with that. Of course he’s not stupid and lazy, but if it’s means less dirty work on the battlefield, well, he’ll continue act like a tipical rainwing

(I also believe that Megatron keeps him as an “art”)

Breakdown - Fun fact: "Operation Breakdown" was the very first thing I saw in this series. And it was an interesting experience for 8 year old me. Maybe that's why I'm so scared of eye gouging scenes in movies now…

I think that he didn't have any siblings initially due to his parents nature, and even after meeting Bulkhead, he felt uncomfortable among the other mudwings. And this is why he later chose the side of the decepticons. And maaaaybe because of one cute rainwing influence)

P.s.

I think that, being mostly nightwings and icewings, the decepticons are much more concerned about purity of their blood and rarely accept half-breeds into their ranks.

During the war, there were many animus dragons among decepticons, which is why they have so many artifacts that allowed teleportation and communication at a distance. But, honestly, I still can't imagine what Nemesis would look like in this AU

[cupofwyn]

may i have this dance?⠀( l.jn )

pairing יִ،⠀lee jeno!prince × fem!reader

genre/s יִ،⠀fluff. a tinge of comedy. bridgerton period. royalty!AU. rofan.

warning/s יִ،⠀profanity. little to inaccurate representations of the regency era. being chased. overpraising of jeno's beauty (not guilty).

wc יִ،⠀10.3k

a/n יִ،⠀i might have underestimated the word count—i thought it was going to be short for a oneshot but oh well. THANK YOU FOR THE LONG AWAITED ANTICIPATION. i honestly couldn't have done it without you guys. if u liked it, i'd like to hear your thoughts about it thru reblog, comments, or even an ask! tyvm for waiting <(_ _)>

synopsis יִ،⠀it was all self-inflicted pressure when the spotlight finally turned to you as the final member of the family to experience a love story—the miracle that has been passed down from your parents down to your siblings and the privilege of love in marriage that has been jealoused upon the ton of high society. though the world might have run out of love stories available for you when your family took it all to their delight, or so you thought.

IT'S DAUNTING TO BE IN THIS SCENERY. The mere presence of the most extravagant things seen by spectators of this ballroom and the contrasting sentiments you had within it.

A rush of cold blood runs from your head down to your fidgeting fingers, though you can’t quite pick on your fingers like how you’d used to without gloves.

Everything here is tremendously uncomfortable.

After a few gentlemen who asked for your hand for a dance after conversations, to which you’ve escaped with excuses of going to the powder room, an imaginary friend calling you from afar, and many more lame reasons you could come up with, you’re back to the place where your mother left you a couple of songs ago.

All the sharp eyes that hid uncomfortable curiosity and the reoccurring implicit words that only let you converse about anything but yourself.

Inheritance and fascination about your family’s wealth and the sudden showers of compliments and two-faced flirting tactics—it was getting repetitive.

How could it be not known that the youngest daughter of the emperor's most influential and right-hand man and adviser was to debut in this season? Every man that you approached and conversed with would immediately recognize you and call your name before you even introduced yourself; the striking appearance of the marquess passed down to yours and feminized. No noble nor commoner could not recognize a child of the man whom the ruler of this kingdom entrusted and was well-endowed by every fertile land and mine.

Despite this, there was a more interesting mystic that involved not only your father but your whole family.

Love and marriage.

The oddest and rarest words that could be found together, as marriage is only ever seen as a necessity when a noble comes of age. Politics, business partnerships, and also harshly done to pay for debts, so there was no chance that marriage could turn into something romantic when it is established outside of those forms—yet bizarrely, your family is in a different light.

Your parents, the marquess, and marchioness were wed out of political convenience and yet ended up being the love match of their season, leading to their children being raised with it. Your first-born older sister’s husband might come off as someone who forcefully wed your sister to marriage but was wed out of love at first sight; your older brother with scandalous womanizer antics in the circle and yet is trying to bury the fact that his childhood friend from across our manor's street is slowly becoming the person of his desires and is oblivious that it is also reciprocated.

Love is contagious in this family, and you hate that it's a standard in your family to be wed out of it.

It is incredibly obnoxious. All you knew was that it was the oddest feeling you've seen from your family after seeing those subtle gestures of endearment they shared with their partners. There was always that softness and warmth in their eyes whenever they looked at their significant other despite them looking away.

How powerful is love that it makes a person pacify and willingly consign themselves for the other?

Perhaps you were the end of it.

Such a thing couldn't be held within a grasp of hand if you wanted it right this instance, but in every attempt for you to engage and entertain such thoughts with other gentlemen—something sparks different in their eyes.

Deceitment. They view you as a spectacle—the love that surrounded your family was their tool to win you over, and it terrifies you.

To achieve love, did it have to be this manipulative and hurtful?

Your expectations crashed down with every interaction you had with every man in this hall.

You were simply a target in their eyes.

The uncomfortable hunting gazes they shared with you and their presence alone induced such an invasive depth of cautiousness in you.

To be perceived without any control of the situation, far from the peaceful environment you had within your own confinements before you debuted. The tightness you endured from your corset is nothing more than what your chest and breathing had right now. With a frantic heartbeat and the cold pump of blood rushing into you, you don’t notice someone calling out for your attention.

“Dear?” A firm hand wrapped around your arms, and you jumped from the sudden contact until you recognized your mother's voice, disrupting the unconscious well in your eyes.

“Mama,” you replied.

“Are you feeling well? You've been here ever since I talked to the whole ton of this banquet. I’ve been looking everywhere for you.” Your mother rubbed your arms firmly.

“It's nothing, mama. Just the nerves.” you returned.

“So, how are things going? Have you enjoyed the evening with a charming gentleman, perhaps?” she told you with a teasing tone, beaming a smile at the view of dancing couples and the beautiful quartet's piece gracing the air.

She trusted that with your lively nature, you would talk to any gentleman without any push of encouragement from her, so she left you alone to fend for your own partner. With your pesky and womanizer antic of your brother, what would go wrong when you were left alone in your first debutante ball?

Alas, she forgot that you were a shut-in marquis’ daughter and that your brother is the exact reason why you can't continue to converse with any gentleman in this banquet. Violence and disgust were the only emotions you ever had with the opposite sex in the comforts of your own home, but to be faced with strangers and to be expected to converse well with them? Indeed, different emotions other than what you feel around your brother were reeling in—most of it anxiety.

“Oh, yes! The gentlemen are very charming and very pleasing to look at while I am dancing.” you strayed a forced laugh by the end in an unstable voice, and you coughed to clear it, now grinning to your mother's way in hopes that she'd not find you suspicious.

The marchioness heaved a joyous chuckle at herself as she looked at you proudly, wrapping her arms around yours to link it.

“I am so happy for you, dear.” she embraced you and pulled away as she looked at you adoringly, “If you're feeling more enthusiastic, I could interest you with other gentlemen—”

“How delightful!” An annoying pipsqueak cuts out mother and has snuck through you from the crowd of desperate and awestruck women frolicking at him, inducing you to roll your eyes at him—the rightful heir of the marquis-dom and your older brother, Haechan.

You were at the least thankful for his presence right now, as your mother could’ve suggested something preposterous if he didn’t interrupt.

He cheekily greeted you with a grin and bowed mockingly.

Those familiar eyes of deceit always brought a chill to your spine.

Don't tell me.

“Good evening, missus debutante. Still not up to the offer that this fine brother of yours will be your first name on your dance card?” The marchioness pinched his arms, and he winced, breaking his dashing persona as he woefully looked at your mother beside him.

“Haechan, have you no concern? Your sister is actually having the time of her life, enjoying the lining lords for her hand tonight while you have been out here, just making your chances with another set of women for you to play with.” Haechan rubbed his injured arm and formed a slight pout.

“What line of suit—” he did not finish as you immediately pinched his side, making him snap his head at you with bloodshot eyes.

“Make yourself useful and go out there. I have someone I want her to be introduced to.” your mother insisted.

“Mama, please. I don't want any of this bloody extravaganza,” you said through gritted teeth, and you likewise got a tug from your mother on your sides, her eyes wide openly glaring at you.

“Y/N! Language,” she whisper-shouted, and you mumbled an annoyed apology in return.

“I should tell you, Y/N,” Haechan spoke up, looking at you with mischief in his eyes, the corner of his mouth upturned.

“Don't you dare.” you mouthed at him.

“—A dance! A dance doesn’t really make them your definitive husband, dear sister.” he apathetically commented and crossed his arms, giving you a smug look.

You furrowed your eyebrows at him. You could even feel your ears and nostrils shooting out warm air.

“That is true.” your mother replied. “Although it truly matters who you're dancing with at your debutante gala.” The marchioness starts, and you can shoot a look at her and sigh that she's even doing her sermons at this event. “It resembles the refined attitude and talents of a noble lady. In short, it defines their role in society. For example, your older sister’s husband, the Duke of Rogan. He might be considered the tyrant who mercilessly killed a thousand of the enemy’s army last year, but he is devilishly handsome. You wouldn’t want your sister to be looked upon as with plain rigid taste in marital circles because her first dance is with someone like, well—”

“Like Lord Hopworth.” Your brother continued.

“Hm. Yes, a gentleman with a love for his horses that he only smells of stables and dirt.” Your mother helplessly agrees and fans herself in shame, discussing such gossip circle topics with her children.

“Comparing sister’s husband to Lord Hopworth…they are both in different leagues, mother. I, on the other hand, have no issues whatsoever with the man's hobbies and his reputation in the marital circle. Still, he has already danced with all the women in his family during the past three marital seasons. Might a miracle of a chance would only appear if a distant cousin would appear out of thin air or if Y/N had the wits to ask him a dance.” Haechan chuckled to himself proudly, uttering from you a gasp.

Your brother has been testing your waters ever since he joined your company, and this growing annoyance soon turns into an outburst.

“Explains why women who danced with my unwed brother for three years are still not wed by now. You're just trying hard to hide the fact that you have feelings for your best friend.” you retorted back.

“Y/N! That's crude.” your mother criticizes your sudden remark.

Haechan's eyes grow open in every passing second, and his breathing stops. In a while, he snaps his head away, half-suppressing a snicker.

“Well, look who's talking. See, mother.” Haechan started, and you could feel your chest suddenly heavy.

“I heard from the gentlemen's circle that my dearest sister kept on escaping dance offers from several gentlemen, saying that she would make lousy excuses to reject their dance offers tacitly—!” he ended with a huff. Your mother was frozen on the spot. She finally lets go of your linked arms, looking at you with disbelief.

"Mama, I can explain."

“Is it true, Y/N?” She suddenly asks with a firm tone.

“I…” You’re left speechless. The disappointing truth of your dance affairs is now out in the open, revealed to your mother. At any moment, you’re almost about to be eaten up by guilt at your attitude, especially in your debut.

While rejecting dance offers is rude, the fact that you have dismissed a number of offers from gentlemen of this banquet and have been talked about in their circle was more destructive to your family’s reputation, but most importantly, your reputation.

“Yes, I admit it,” you admitted, your eyes lowering away from your mother.

“You should have just told me, dear. There's no need for you to lie about it.”

“If I would admit it, then I’ll only place you on the burden that I’m carrying. I—” you choked on your own voice, and your eyes grew well with tears.

“Mother, I have been only looked at as an object by all the men here. I tried my best to engage in a conversation, but all that I get are harsh eyes and insincere words, and I believe it is because they only see me for what I have—what our family has! Mama,” the last word strays like a plead, and you continue with choked tears.

“I’m sorry. I need to have fresh air.” You turned your heels away and left the front doors of the palace, leaving your familial company stunned.

“Y/N!” Your brother almost followed along but was stopped by your mother, her hand placed on his arms, and she shook her head.

“Leave your sister alone for now. She needs time to adjust.”

“But Mama, she was being rude!” Haechan grimaced.

“You have to understand that your sister must be faced with expectations not only from others but herself. She must have gone through so much when I left her.” The marchioness released a heavy sigh, burdened with guilt for having left you unattended.

“Oh, what have I done to her?” she brought her head down in defeat, and Haechan rubbed her arms for comfort, unable to speak anything and partly guilty of his behavior towards you.

“Check on her after a few minutes.” your mother pleaded, but it took a few minutes before he could respond.

“Alright.”

THE TEARS IN YOUR EYES FELL STRONGLY DOWN YOUR CHEEKS AS YOU LEFT THE SCENE. Your vision starts to get blurry, and you pursed your lips in hopes that these tears may come to a halt, but you know it isn’t that easy.

Humiliating. Pathetic. Your family has finally discovered your true intentions. You knew that the only people to blame were the men you interacted with and not yourself, but in the end, you were the one who was more affected by their treatment of you. Their simplistic perception of you as nothing but the daughter of a marquess that could bring them to their own prime and financial risings to the society, and it drove you mad.

You were furious about your status, yet, at the same time, conflicted that maybe you were a bit too sensitive and could not stand your guard.

But was it wrong to be hurt? That even with these privileges, you were viewed as nothing but that as soon as you left home.

Debuting into society wasn’t all what you thought it was. It isn’t romantic nor the slightest bit magical. It is war only disguised as something pleasurable with performative beauty in one place.

You desperately tried to hold back your weeping, hiding under the garden’s fountain, not the slightest care that your dress would be dirtied with the grass you laid on, clutching your chest to ease the heaviness. You thought that the fresh air and the silence of the outside gardens could appease, though now it is only the opposite. The vulnerability that you hid as much as you could only cease to hide and break down.

What a waste. That you were just crying in this beautiful scenery.

The serene lush of green and the silence of the night, flickers of stars shining bright in the night sky, bearing witness to the presence of a distraught lady sitting alone under the water fountain.

You look up to the night sky and wipe the falling tears with your arms, another set of tears only falling as you wipe your cheeks.

But there was no time to waste, you knew. You sniffed in all your snot, removing your gloves and disregarding it as it was moist from all the wiping, and let yourself calm down, hoping that there were no further moments that you’d cry again.

Don’t try being a coward this time, you demanded to yourself, quickly huffing out a breath as you slapped your cheeks.

There was no other choice but to go back inside and dance to any man that your eyes would first lay on—no matter their perception of you.

“Let's do this.”

However, a disruption comes.

A shuffle of running feet is suddenly getting louder by any minute closer to you, and you snappily bring your head to the source, seeing a young man with jet black hair and clothes with a ruby red suit running towards you, occasionally looking behind them as if being chased.

Only one thing and one matter came to mind when you saw that scene: To run.

You wasted no time, got up from the fountain's edge, and you hit your head on the edge. You hissed at the impact, slowly standing up as you clutched your head.

“Please!” A young man's voice called out, and it was from the gentleman running towards you. “Please, hide me.” he huffed.

Before you could run away from him, the man finally reached you and immediately hid behind the bushes near the fountain.

What...what was that?

You stood there with nothing in mind and confused about the sudden role given to you.

After a few seconds, another gentleman ran towards you, and this time, you were prepared to run away.

“My lady, halt! I only have a question to ask you.” he stops a few feet away from you and bends, his arms holding onto his knees as he catches his breath.

You stop in your tracks, obliging, and take two steps back.

He fixed himself and stood up straight, a foot tall from you. A refined man with rounded slit eyes and a timid demeanor stands before you, the same age, you guessed, as the man earlier, who is currently hiding in the bushes. He plastered a kind smile, eyes disappearing as he took his barnacle from his suit pocket.

The man cleared his voice and bowed down to greet you, and you do the same.

“Good evening, my lady. I am the son of the Viscount Huang. Renjun Huang, from the House of Capri. Pardon that I rashly made a bad impression on you during our first meeting.”

You greeted back a good evening, introducing yourself and your house, bowing again, and stood up, raising your chin slightly as you carefully asked. “What of I could assist you, Sir Huang?”

“There seems to be someone I am looking for but had run away, rather—” the viscount chuckled to himself and reiterated, “My company has left me alone.”

“Have you perhaps seen a young man with this stature,” he gestured inches above his height. “Wearing a red suit and has black hair?” he finished, and you froze at your spot.

His descriptions of the gentleman he was looking for were precisely like the man you saw speeding towards you, asking you to hide him from someone, which you presume is this person who introduced himself as the son of the House of Capri, Renjun Huang.

You thought deeply, trying to recall any memory from your social etiquette classes that made you memorize and recognize the names and history of each noble family in the kingdom before debuting, as it was essential to have one before entering society.

Viscount Huang from the House of Capri. Weren’t they a family of butlers who have served the imperial family from generation to generation?

"Hmm, a gentleman with that stature has a red suit and black hair?" he nodded at your question, and you wandered off, looking around as you faked an attempt to deeply think about his inquiry when you were actually in a dilemma on whose side you should pick.

Obviously, you had no relations with both gentlemen, and only a huge silence engulfed you as your own conscience measured the rightful decision in this situation.

You gulped and looked back at the man before you and immediately looked away as you saw the desperation and that hint of insanity in his eyes, vividly seeing those dark circles beneath them.

To which gentleman do you trust and help out?

“…I think,” you crossed your arms, rubbing your arms with your hands to appease you as you thought deeply of your choice. “I think I saw that man went that way.” you nervously pointed to your left where the gates leading to another part of the castle are.

The viscount mumbled to himself that he thought right and bowed his head to you. “Thank you, Miss Y/N. Have a good evening.” Sir Huang paused for a moment and smiled gently, adding. “I also hope you are feeling well, my lady.” and he ran in the direction you pointed.

And you were grateful for the sentiment that he shared with you; as short as it was, you felt that he was worried about you. Your eyes must be so swollen from the crying that you took no care to care about your appearance to anybody else. Now you felt guilty for deceiving him.

You waited until his figure disappeared from sight as he entered the castle, and you heaved out a big exhale you had unconsciously held earlier.

You should never be left unchaperoned in another social gathering, you decided.

Though, you can only wonder. Why was the son of a viscount, the son of the current imperial butler, so hung up on this person behind the bushes to the point of chasing him?

Oh, gosh.

You might have chosen a criminal.

A threat to the royal family, perhaps?

Speaking of the devil, the bush near the fountain rustled, and you turned slowly to the bushes, quickly seeking any sort of weapon you could find, and you saw a twig. You picked it up, bent it a little, swung it around to test its firmness, and finally decided that it was good for defense as it was durable.

It is better to have one or nothing, you thought.

You suspiciously walked near it, which is the most reckless thing to do right now, but the twig you held right now gave you that foolish, courageous act. That it could give you full defense against a possible criminal.

Then comes out the man from earlier, his broad back and his clean-cut hair in your view, startling you as your shoulders jump, causing you to clutch your chest and pacify your pounding heart.

“Thank heavens.” a deep voice unveils out of the mysterious man, and he sweeps the dirt and leaves on him, soon turning to you with a troubled face.

You swore you could feel your jaw getting loose as you froze in awe of the man before you.

Chiseled face made of strong facial bones, nose perfectly angled to a degree, lush pink lips of a distinguishable cupid's bow above it, and those long set of lashes, low as it veils his dark eyes, deep yet shining underneath the yellow dim lights of the nearby lamp post around us; it's almost like the porcelain statues and paintings of the imperial ancestors from the palace has come to life—the most significant artists and poets combined to forge imagery of a rightful muse to every medium and ink that praises a divine being.

And that mole, placed under his eyes.

His eyes stare back at you, only delving you to say.

“Wow.”

“Pardon?” The man raises his brow, his lips upturned to amusement.

Your cheeks get warm, and you immediately shake your hands in the air, correcting yourself. “I mean, wow—no, I mean,” you paused and thought deeply to yourself as you looked back at him with seriousness. “I'm afraid there are no present expressions to describe it.”

The man blinked, dumbfounded, and his cheekbones started to define, soon bursting into a fit of laughter at your reaction, holding his stomach as he bent down to laugh more.

The urge to be eaten by the ground was more tempting than ever in your point of existence. You lightly smacked your lips with your hand to punish yourself for your intrusive thoughts winning before you just by the presence of this captivating being.

He finished as he calmed down, ending it with a smile as he stood tall.

“Thank you. I've never been complimented with that expression before, at least not in a first meeting—wow.” The man snickered to himself, his eyes raised to the shape of a crescent moon, and you almost melted to your knees.

The imperial court should consider banning that charming smile; you finally kept the thought to yourself.

“I am deeply grateful for your kindness, miss. I would have understood if you had chosen Sir Huang instead of me since I am, after all, still a stranger to you.” he bowed to the highest degree, his upper body lowered straight as the ground, and you nervously assumed the same greeting, stunned with this deep gratitude.

You realize that this man is still a potential criminal, and you discreetly hide your weapon (a twig) behind you.

“Why were you chased by the viscount, my lord?” you backed off a few steps from the mysterious man as you stood before he did.

“Well, if I were speaking truthfully,” he whirred lowly, trying to find the right words to reason his circumstance. “I would have been forced to enter the ballroom to which I have been warily hiding from my chaperone—I don't want to go through this dancing propaganda, you see.”

“Oh,” you relaxed a little, the grip on your weapon (still a twig) becoming less firm. “I guess I understand.” you engaged.

“You do?”

“Do what?” you looked up at him cautiously, and he walked close to you.

“You also dislike this conviction behind the dancing and the desperation for marriage.” he reiterated, adamant sparkles of enthusiasm in his eyes, still not taking a hint of your obvious nervousness.

“I don't think we're meant to talk so freely about that.” you attempted to retreat from the topic, or moreover, from him, and the sparks were lost as he lowered his eyes and he finally stopped.

“Oh. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that.” The gentleman begged pardon, sincerity clear in his apology, and you notice it, bringing you to look at him and shaking your head.

“No! It's just that...” you hesitated. “I believe my opinions and criticisms of society, as a lady, would be frowned upon. That's why I responded that way.”

The young man looks at you and eases, assured that you are not opposed nor baffled by the conversation's topic.

“Well,” he looked around. “We are the only people present here, aren't we? You're free to tell me things without feeling drawn back, and I assure you that I intently outcast myself from society.”

“You have such grand privileges, my lord. I feel envious of that freedom.” you professed, smiling at him green-eyed, and he shrugged his shoulders, crossing his arms as he looked far and sighed, sitting on the edge of the water fountain.

“It's not always thrilling. My siblings are wary of me because my father favors me more than they do. My father also insisted that I marry and take his stead immediately. With my escapades, I am never to be left alone again when I leave my chambers,” he shared.

He noticed the silence afterward and soon came to regret his actions again.

“I apologize. I may have overshared—”

“I also have a conflicting problem as you do, but more personal.” you also opened up, also sitting on the water fountain's edge, still keeping a good fair distance from him. “I am the youngest and the last of my family to come of age, and I feel like I am not suitable to be here. This dancing and its etiquettes.” you stopped.

He remains silent, eyes now focused on you and every meaning that is present on your face as you're looking away, noticing the tears welling in your eyes.

“If you know my family very well, then you could probably guess that I am very privileged and that everybody wants to get close to me.” you chuckled to yourself, looking down and bringing your hands in front of you, now fidgeting on the twig. “It's funny how I hate that kind of attention because that means I can easily make friends, but it's not genuine.”

The cold air breeze caved between you, and there remained silence. The man keenly waits for another word from you, but there is a look of hesitance present on yours, and before he opens his mouth to talk, you continue.

“I hate it. Everything there reminds me that I could be easily eaten up if I'm not careful, and I’m scared to take any dance offers that could possibly have a hidden motive.” you wept yet again, the warm tears now falling on your cold hands, and you wiped it away.

You say nothing. In your peripheral, you notice a white thing hanging in the air, and you look at it, seeing an extended arm from the stranger who is reassuringly smiling, handing you a handkerchief.

“Here.” the man said, and you hesitated, staring at the handkerchief.

“There's nothing on the handkerchief. I swear on my family's name. It's yours to take.” he reassured, and you felt found out from your cautiousness.

“Thank you.” you mumbled under your breath and accepted the handkerchief, wiping every tear and snot on your face.

You have never thought to receive such understanding from a stranger this evening or be listened to without any judgment and malice. This interaction is what you hoped to receive from all of the conversations of the past gentleman—to be simply heard.

The man secretly grins to himself, finding the scene endearing and relaxed as you were freely talking to him.

“...If it assures you, I experience the same thing as you do ever since I was aware of it.” he sympathized with you, and you looked up at him, finding him smiling though opposite from his eyes, pained as he looked at the sky.

“People looked at me and treated me kindly, but they secretly plot things behind me just to use me, using their closeness to me to satisfy their selfish desires or to raise their rankings. My parents were wed out of convenience just to make an heir, and ever since then, I have lived my life carefully—I rarely find people who I could lean on and depend on.”

“That's why I don't bother myself attending the dances or any party, and I just stay outside of it when I'm forced to attend one. I realized if I even find this occasion tempting to join, then I'll only add more unwanted attention to my life.” he ended, and there came again the silence, but now you're sharing eye contact.

It is comforting this silence you shared this time, pleasant and easy to bear, and you can't help but break in a smile, a stray tear coming down your cheek, and he chuckled, rubbing his nape timidly at this progression.

The mysterious man sitting far away from you had more depth now that you knew behind the charming and gleaming factors that there was vulnerability and the capability for sympathy.

Would it be too much to ask for more of him?

“Would you care to share some refreshments with me?” you confidently sat a bit closer.

“I—”

“Your Highness!” Before he could answer, a distant voice shouted, and both of you looked at the familiar figure, Sir Huang, running towards you.

“What did he say?” your eyebrows furrowed as you watched Sir Huang getting closer.

“Your High—”

“Not important.” he interrupted, now standing near you as he held out his hand. “I'm sorry, but we must run, my lady. Please take my hand.” you can't help but accept it, and the both of you dash away in the direction of the ballroom's entrance. You run behind him, completely confused by your necessary involvement with this escapade and threatened that you are also now being chased.

“What is happening, my lord!” You shouted at him.

“I know a secret passage to the ballroom. Just follow me.” he looked back at you and quickly glanced at the growing tired viscount running after us.

The evening wind was cold as it slapped across your body and created a mess out of your hair, your breathing slowly reminding you that you are not the athletic person to run away with a chasing situation and definitely not with the evening gown and shoes you are wearing. You might need to lie down on the cold floor after this inevitably.

On the other hand, the lord, who is still firmly holding your hand, drags you both to hide any block and bushes, and after puzzling the frantic Sir Huang, the both of you proceed to run, him noticeably slowing his pace to match yours from time to time.

You were starting to lose your breath, and the both of you were finally on the grounds of the outside gates of the ballroom.

“It's truly incredible how you're still not catching your breath, my lord, but may I remind you,” you inhaled in more air and wiped the sweat off your forehead while he was tensely looking for whatever he hoped to find. “I am simply not built for running. I don't even like running at all!”

He quietly shushed you, and you pursed your lips to refrain complaints from coming out of your mouth, and you noticed that he still hadn't let go of your hand.

You flushed from the continual contact, and he dragged you away from the gate, leading you to the right side of the building, where a door meant for the servants and the noticeable clinks of pans from the inside. He doesn't hesitate to open it and bring you inside quickly, walking past the servants who are startled by the sudden presence of nobles in the dirty kitchen.

“Where are we going?” Your knees still feel weak from running, and outside of the kitchen, there is a stairway that leads upstairs, to which each noble was not permitted to enter at all costs as the ballroom grounds and the gardens were the only places that one was to enter.

“We're not permitted to enter this place, my lord!” Your hand dragged him down as he stepped on one step of the staircase, and he looked at you with a glint of hurry in his eyes.

‘Would you rather be seen with me by the viscount or continue running away with me?” he probed, lowering his chin to look down at you at the end of the stairway.

“Look,” you paused to make a statement. “I don't know why I am running with you when this is not part of my concern. You can't possibly think that I would run away with someone I just met!” you exclaimed, wide-eyed as you looked at the unnamed lord, finding his suggestions reckless.

The man was stunned by your reaction, visibly hurt by you berating the connection you made after all of those conversations, and you can see it, the guilt of your outburst at him gnawing at you.

“I seem to have chosen the wrong words. My butler—” he sighed, massaging the bridge of his nose. “The son of the viscount rather has seen us together, and you would be the prime evidence and witness of my last presence in this event, which he would never let go of, my lady. So choose. Would you rather be with me and slowly part our ways or be seen with me by the viscount and hear rumors of us being alone and unchaperoned?” the man paused, looking intently at you as he waited for your response. You, who had nothing to say and were ashamed of your earlier response, just nodded and agreed.

“Alright.” The both of you then walked up the staircase, his grip on your hand still unceasing, and you're slowly becoming bothered by it.

“You can let go of my hand already, sir.” you said.

“Sorry.” he quickly let go as the two of you reached the second floor.

The surrounding frames of eerily familiar faces of royals on the walls urge you to avoid any eye contact with them, their faces now barely comfortable to stare and adore at, and the clanking of both of the soles of your shoes on the wooden platform floors, loud, awkward, filling up the silence that the both of you shared only heightens the apparent climactic end of this camaraderie you shared at the garden—your blunt take on how your meeting was simply empty.

You can't help but feel hurt that you haven't considered the sentimental and unexpected companionship with a man you helped for unknown reasons was the best part of this nightmarish marital circle.

The man was clearly hurt by your words earlier and he still inevitably did not leave you alone to be spotted unchaperoned alone with a man. He helped you and listened to you without you asking of him. Your response earlier was ungrateful, responding that you were bothered by it.

You bit your lips, clasping your hands in front of you as you walked behind him.

“My lord?” you called him, and he answered with a gentle hum, continuing to walk.

“I'm terribly sorry. I didn't mean to dismiss our meeting we had at the gardens.”

He stopped and looked back as he smiled reassuringly.

“There's no need for you to apologize, miss. I have inconvenienced you after all. Our meeting earlier was certainly unexpected and troubling for you, so I understand.” he turned back and continued to walk.

After a few walks, the muffled music from the ballroom slowly got louder. The ballroom was near your vicinity, and you tried to strike up a conversation.

“Are you still not interested in dancing, my lord?”

“Not really. I'm still not interested in being on the dance floor,” he responded shortly, and you take it as a sign not to continue, but he added after a second.

“After the past two seasons, my father is determined to marry me to any woman he'd find me dancing with,” he added, and you hummed thoughtfully.

“So this would be your third season in the marriage circle?” you asked him, and he nodded.

“Indeed.”

His answer made you think deeply, slowly coming up with crafted advice in your head. “Huh,” you responded as you came to a thought, and he looked back at you, puzzled.

“What do you mean by huh?"

“I think you’re missing the point here, my lord.” you slowly caught up to his pace. “If I were you, I'd be setting up a forged relationship with another noble lady just to keep off those kinds of intrusive parents, and then we'd keep the contract for a few years at the least,” you suggested with not much thought.

“Hmm, wait. But it would also not last that much—”

“...I see.” the man replied.

To your dismay, the person chasing you might have finally found out your presence, a set of running feet suddenly getting nearer, and your companion panicked, quickly moving both of you toward a nearby narrow corner, enough for both people to hide.

“Hide in that corner quickly.” He placed you in the corner and helped to hide you, but he didn't bother to hide with you.

“My lord, you should also hide.” you caught his arm and nudged him to where you were hiding too.

“My lady.” he suddenly said, a hint of mischief in his voice.

“Yes?” you replied carefully.

“May I ask for your hand for the next song?”

“What?” you almost shouted out, and he just grinned.

“Your advice was brilliant.” he complimented, and you furrowed your eyebrows.

“I'm saying I would like to make an alliance with you. I'll ask for your hand, and you'll be the center of attention by tonight's party.”

“But wouldn't that risk me being your prospect partner?”

“Unless you'd be proposed to by a ton of suitors by the next morning, there'll be no chance of me winning, and there would be a delay in their enforcement of me to get married. Wouldn't it also be romantic to be asked by many men after dancing with a fine bachelor like me?” he joked by the end, and you scowled in reaction.

“I am not so certain with your plan, my lord. You, who I realized I am not aware of your name yet, and the noble family you belong to wouldn't possibly cause that much ruckus. Unless you are one of the royal princes, then that would make a lot of difference.” he evidently feels startled by your suggestion, and he shakes his head in denial.

“What? No—! Pfft. Why would you assume so?” he waved his hands in the air and continued. “But still, I'll make sure that I will help you feel less burdened with your situation. It's a win-win situation for both of us. At least for a while, when you don't pick me.”

“And how are you so sure I wouldn't pick you?” you answered quite quickly, and the young lord was startled, and so were you by your boldness.

The two of you spend a few seconds just staring at each other, and he breaks eye contact, looking away as he clears his voice.

“My lord, please,” Sir Huang coughed. “Please show yourself! I can't do this any longer!” he complained.

“What's your answer, my lady?” the man before you finally asked, holding out his hand, and you paused for a while, still a bit embarrassed.

Your act of boldness was unexpected of you. That plan you proposed was just a way to converse with him, but it made you look interested in your newfound companion. You just hoped that it wouldn't make both of you awkward, but that doesn't seem to be the case, as he was still willing to do it with you.

This alliance would be all in your favor. You'll finally show your mother that you have enjoyed tonight's party and won't place any more worry on her, but why would he assume you would want more men by the next morning? You don't want any flock of men by the next morning. You didn't like that he said that.

“I'm in.” you agreed and accepted his hand to shake. “This better work, sir?”

There's nothing wrong with accepting it either way, is it?

“Jeno.” He joined your hands and firmly made a handshake. “Call me Lord Jeno, my lady.”

Sir Huang still complains about his missing companion, Lord Jeno. His sneaking footsteps become louder, and Sir Jeno hid you properly for once.

“I'll show myself to the viscount, and you wait for a while until we leave. I'll see you downstairs.”

Then he left.

THIS ALLIANCE. THIS PLAN. You could immediately feel that you might soon regret agreeing to that ridiculous suggestion you made with that man. It was rebellious and certainly not fitting for someone who just entered the society. The man you agreed with has been in the season for three years, and you're barely keeping up with this hectic day a noble lady could have for just coming of age.

You waited a while after you heard no mumbling noises in the hallway and slowly got up, holding on to the wall as your knees weakened from all the running and the brief relaxation your legs had to take. You grunted as you fixed and swept your skirt clean, fixed your hair in place to a nearby mirror, peeked a little from the corners to investigate your surroundings, and left as you determined the place clear.

The music from the ballroom comes to a halt, the quartet resting for another set of music for tonight, and you start to get nervous as you encounter the stairway leading down to the ballroom.

You grumbled to yourself as you descended the stairs, questioning your actions and wondering about the identity of the mysterious man who finally introduced himself as Lord Jeno.

Everything about him exuded aristocracy, so you had no doubt that he was a noble and definitely wasn’t a criminal. But what was the deal of the son of a viscount chasing him like hunting prey? The son of the viscount whose family are butlers of the imperial family?

You almost scratched your head in this situation you've put yourself in. While you were grateful for the unexpected companionship you made with a handsome gentleman tonight, you had just dragged yourself into another complex obstacle you have never faced. More worse than arguing with your mother about your lying.

Who was Lord Jeno?

The ballroom doors swung open, and the gleaming yellow lights of the ballroom soon entered your vision. You stepped down to the final step of the staircase, near the refreshments where the people took their rest after a dance—and you attracted too much attention.

They must’ve heard your issue with accepting a number of dance offers from the noblemen, and you were gone by the following few songs when you conversed with the family you brought tonight.

People in society are quick to judge anyone who acts differently from the must-followed social etiquette you discovered. They're quick to spread words, to create a transparent wall they could ridicule anyone who is not doing the norms.

You couldn't bear but notice and catch all of the glances, and the whispered conversations shamelessly out loud in front of you, and your eyes desperately searched the room, looking for familiarity, looking for a place you could very much hide.

“Y/N!” you snapped and looked in the direction of the voice to see your brother walking towards you grumpily.

“I thought that you were outside, and I came out looking for you only to find you nowhere! Where have you been!” Haechan nagged, placing his hands on his hips as he exasperated an annoyed groan.

You looked down in defeat, not having the energy to fight back like what you usually do with him, not in this place. You could only give them another thing to talk about.

“I'm sorry I made you worried.” Haechan's gaze towards you softened, with the hands on his hips soon placed in his pockets.

Seeing you in a state where your usual reaction was to fight back was unusual for Haechan, and instead of anger and frustration, his emotions subsided into pure concern for you.

“Hey, I'm very sorry earlier. I shouldn't have told mother about your situation. It wasn't my right to do so.” Your brother apologized, and you looked up at him to see him with sympathizing eyes. You smiled knowingly, slowly turning into chuckles.

“You don't look good acting kind.” you teased, and he gently nudged you in response, shrugging off your comment.

“Shut up.” he irked and crossed his arms as he smiled by the end after the two of you shared a laugh.

“Say, brother," you said.

“Yes?” he replied.

“If a person was ever chased by a son of a butler, a known imperial butler to be exact, what does that mean for the person chased?” you asked hesitatingly.

“Pardon?”

“Nothing.” your immediate reply only brings him to suspicion by your sudden behavior.

“Y/N,” he started. “What did you do this time?”

You avoid eye contact with him as you start to fidget, your heart beating anxiously as you count as the seconds that pass by, observing how the musicians slowly approach their instruments and flip their music sheets on a standee.

“A man was chased by the son of Viscount Huang.” you gulped, and Haechan remained silent, pausing to come up with an appropriate question as he observed your frozen figure.

“And?” he asked.

“I made an alliance with said man.”

“Y/N,” he said with gritted teeth as he sighed in defeat. “What have you done!”

“I know, and I have my suspicions too! Alright! But I swear the person has only given me infinite kindness from the beginning…If you exclude the part that I helped in hiding him from the son of the royal butler.”

“Sweet heavens.” he places his palm on his forehead, shaking his head in distress.

“All we agreed was to have one dance, and that's it! I promise there's nothing more than what we have agreed. But listen, this man,” you stopped, looking around you, and got nearer to him as you whispered. “We might be talking about the kingdom’s prince here.” you reasoned with him, and he thought about it, looking at you still for you to continue.

“That’s ridiculous,” he commented. “There’s no way a prince would be asking you out.”

You gasped and hit him on his arm. “You know insulting me is also insulting our parents and yourself too.”

“I had my doubts.” Haechan joked, and you hit him again, earning from him a ‘hey!’.

“You have to take this seriously. This man has been acting suspiciously from the start. Look. He was chased by what I presume, his butler. I heard quite faintly a ‘Your Highness!’ when we were chased down by his butler, and he…” You looked at him, dead in the eyes. “Was a terrible liar. He had quite a violent reaction when I suspected him to be one of the princes.”

“You know, the youngest prince was supposed to debut on my season, but he hasn’t shown up ever since. No one knows his face or name.” Haechan whispered back at you.

“And when did you enter high society again?”

“This is my third, so the past two seasons ago.”

“Oh, dear,” you said as you stared at the ground from your realization. “Where is mother—”

“Lady Y/N.” An ardent voice called you from behind, and you looked behind you, and you saw your expected person.

“Lord Jeno?” you uttered his name, and upon release, the weight of the atmosphere became heavier with his simple presence alone.

And everyone notices. The notable stranger, who was never seen through the night until now, approached the debutante rumored upon and best known to reject several dance offers curtly.

“Y/N?” Haechan asked, staring at Lord Jeno.

Jeno notices your brother and bows, greeting him.

“Good evening, sir.”

“Good evening…” Haechan wandered off, and you were wearing the same expression as he did. Bewildered. Intimidated. Awestrucked.

Shushed conversations and murmuring circles surround the both of you, but despite this, the lord in front of you is composed, poised straight, a firm hand holding out to ask for yours and the other behind him—too firm and frozen you notice. His hand shakes, and so do his eyes, looking at yours as he awkwardly smiles.

“Will you have this dance with me, Lady Y/N?” Lord Jeno asked hesitantly, and you gulped, offering out your hand to touch his, barely placed on his palms as you felt that if you touched his hands again, you’d taint him.

"Yes…my lord," you lately answered the last, not knowing how to address him. He breathed out a sigh of relief, too nervous as if there was a never-agreed-upon alliance behind this.

Shouldn’t you be the nervous one here?

Jeno leads you to the dance floor, and he is still stiff. The pressure of the many eyes is troubling him, especially since, out of his three seasons, he is officially marking an entrance into high society.

Everything he avoided was present in this banquet. Crowds and circles of people and their eyes—free to perceive him as a subject of talk.

He can barely breathe in air, overwhelmed by consciousness by the piercing stares now placed upon him, unaware of you calling out to him, and you tugged him down only to startle him, finally looking at you with anxious eyes.

You gestured for him to bend down, and he followed, whispering in his ears as if he were down at your height. “Are you not feeling well, my lord?”

The ticklish air on his ears from yours gives a ginger warmth to his ears, seconds late to answer you with a simple nod and smile, and you squeeze your clasped hands with him, giving him a feat of courage with your eyes. His heart flutters at this small gesture, the nearness of you making him feel warm but when he looks into your eyes, he notices a glint of something more to it.

Your eyes only show curiosity—more like suspicion.

“My lady, is there something you want to say to me?” Jeno asked, and the glint vanished as you shook your head.

“No. It’s nothing.” But nothing always had something.

You might already have guessed it, but you’re just keeping it to yourself.

The both of you finally take the dance floor. Jeno holds your hand and places the other one on your hips, and you place your free hand on his arm nervously. The quarter starts with the bass, plucking it, and the violin strung after, a cheery tune playing into the dance floor, positioning you both in a waltz.

There is a noticeable space that is around the both of you and Jeno notices it, giving you a sign about it.

“We're like a deadly disease on this dance floor.” Jeno joked, and you looked around you and chuckled along, too occupied by your reoccurring thought.

You reflected on the times when you interacted with him and thought deeply about the things you did ungraciously in front of him.

Well, you complained to him. Talked back at him. Held his hand. You also wiped your snot and tears on his handkerchief—a handkerchief that could possibly cost more than what a normal handkerchief is. After all, he is the prince.

Could be the prince, for now.

“Lady Y/N? What’s the problem? You’ve been staring at the air for quite a moment now. Is there any way I could help?” Jeno asked, concerned.

You don’t respond for a few seconds. “Lord Jeno.”

“Yes, my lady?” he replied lowly. Your mind only drives chaos at his tender reply.

“Are you really not one of the princes?” you ended, and his face tensed at your question.

“If I said yes…” he paused, his face softened, eyebrows brought together as he looked back at you hesitantly. “Will you avoid me too?”

Your heart dropped. Hearing him say ‘too’, only made you realize about his past situations that pained him and made you think about yourself. The memories of your interaction with him came crashing into you as you realized that you were acting and thinking the same as what he told you about the people who interacted with him. And he has probably felt lonely his whole life with this.

But with you, he felt seen and understood—just like what you felt about him too.

“No.” you immediately answered this time. “I won’t, my lord.”

Jeno doesn’t respond, only looking at you bewildered, and he smiles cheek to cheek, reassured by your sincerity.

The next dance segment pulled you near him as the strings modulated and came to a halt. He puts his face close to you slowly, moving his face on the side of your face as he whispers in your ears, the proximity of the both of you close—too close.

“That’s a relief.” you touch your ear as he pulls his face away. “I’m so glad it’s you that I met.” he said, still brimming with joy, unaware of the effect he had on you with that action.

The warmth of Jeno’s whispers remains for a while, and it’s ticklish, and for a moment, you forget the crowd watching you both, unaware of the stir that caused that simple action that took you off course too. The words he has spoken echoed through you, filling you with confusion and butterflies.

The music swells in, and Jeno gracefully leads you across the dance floor; the room is out of focus, other dancers and onlookers fading in the background as you only look at the man you’re dancing with—moving in perfect harmony.

There remains an unbroken eye contact, silence, and the strings from the instruments swarming between the both of you in glee rendition. Looking directly at a prince, you should be nervous and uncomfortable, but none of that is present in your mind. What you saw at the moment wasn’t the prince.

It was Jeno. The mysterious man that you helped and approached recklessly. The man who listened to your story with no prejudice. The man who offered his hand out to you when you were stuck in your own thoughts.

The friend you made out of this treacherous night.

As you continued to dance, you tried your best to gather yourself. You might not have heard him say yes to your question yet, but you can only wonder what it means for your future—what exactly would happen after this alliance was done and gone?

“Lord Jeno,” you said softly, breaking the silence.

“Or should I say, Prince Jeno?” you asked carefully, and he chuckled, nodding in agreement.

“Yes, Lady Y/N?”

“It feels weird addressing you like this. It’s like I’m speaking casually, but I’m actually formally treating you.” you commented, and he laughed at this.

“You’re the only one who I hear calling me in that way. Even if you’re already properly addressing me,” he replied. “I much more prefer it.”

He’s doing that again. Commenting so easily about things that make you feel weak on your knees.

How can he be so oblivious about it?

“What were you going to tell me?” he asked, bringing you back to your question.

“I was about to ask about our alliance.” you finished, and he looked at you anticipatingly.

“Yes?”

“What would happen after this?” and the question comes out.

You already knew the answer to this since you had already talked about it with him. The advantage you’d have after it is his succession in making his own parents, the king, and queen, less nosy on him and going in your own peaceful ways. Though, you want to hear a different answer from him this time.

Despite everything already clear as day, you want to know what runs in his mind.

Where would this lead to?

Jeno thinks about it too.

Too hardly.

“How would you want things to happen?”

The question remains in the air and the music becomes less louder in your ears.

“I don’t want it to happen. I don’t want to wake up the next morning and be filled with other men asking for my hand.” you answered.

Oh.

Jeno remembered he said that. He thought about the moment he said that and soon came to regret when he suggested that as a situation that was sure to happen and not as a joke, not when you told him what you did at that moment.

“You?” you asked, almost like a plead, yearning to hear something different than what you were negatively thinking he would answer right now.

“Me too.”

His words remained ceaseless as they left right through him, the simple words underscored by the weight they carried. The dance continues, and your mind is racing, your heart thumping loudly as if to break through your chest.

Was it really possible that Jeno, the man you stumbled upon in such a bizarre way, felt the same wave of uncertainty about the future ahead of you as you did?

You studied his face as you slowly moved across the dance floor as the final segment came near. His expression remained calm and, when you hardly look, vulnerable.

As the music began to slow down, signaling the end of the dance, Jeno’s grip on your hand tightened slightly, as if he too, was reluctant for this moment to end. The quartet played the final notes, and you both came to a gentle stop, facing each other; the contact pulled away for the final bow. Applause erupted around you, but it felt distant.

After bowing, the both of you hesitantly leave the dance floor but this time, Jeno wasn’t the slightest nervous about the eyes that still remained on the two of you. Rather, he felt more clear about his thoughts and what he wanted more than what he desired in his life.

“Lady Y/N.” Jeno began, his voice low and earnest. “I do not wish to make you feel more uncertain for what is ahead of us after this alliance we made.”

Your heart skips a beat. “I do not understand, my lord.”

“If the morning comes tomorrow and you are filled with letters that ask for your presence, do not read anything that doesn’t have the mark of my family’s crest. The answer to your question you asked me when I told you about the alliance,” he paused as he smiled softly. “I hope that you are certain to choose me, my lady, as I am certain to pursue you in the future and the moment that we step out of this dance floor.”

The sincerity that spoke through his eyes was unmistakable, and you felt relieved and exhilarated. Your anxieties all vanish away in the face of his answers.

“Looks like I would only be expecting one person’s letter tomorrow.” you smiled at him and chuckled, looking at the ground as you felt timid before him.

The quartet plays another yet song, and the both of you are startled by the sudden start of instruments playing, making you look at each other and burst into laughter.

Jeno holds out his hand at you, and you tilt your head in confusion.

“What is it, Your Highness?” he snickered at the way you addressed him, the lining of his eyes prominent into a crescent shape.

“The imperial court should consider banning that smile. You’re too captivating.” This time, you let your intrusive thoughts reign, and you and Jeno laugh at your absurdity.

“Lady Y/N?” he asked, still holding out his hand and you hummed in response.

“May I have this dance?”

“Yes,” you accepted his hand. “Yes, Your Highness.”

taglist : @g4minelvr @thebubsz @fxckingshame @nosungluv @ajaaaaayyyyy @keemburley @firydust @crustipicklez-blog @daegalismybiasinnct @kunkunlele @minkyuncutie @jenosbiceps

© written by CUPOFWYN . 2024

[daemour]

Pairing: roommate! San x f! yn

Word Count: 10,664

Warnings: cursing, alcohol consumption, smut warnings under cut

Genre: Angst, fluff, smut, f2l au, college au, M for mature audiences

Summary: As the resident fuckboy San's best friend, you're legally obligated to be his hype man. It's only fitting as you're one of the few who can resist his boyish charms. But when he's set his sights on someone you cannot stand, perhaps you need to dig a bit deeper into your feelings after all.

Smut Warnings: masturbation (f), voyeurism, sexual fantasies, oral (f), missionary, protected sex, very slight breast play, overstimulation, cowgirl, some cumplay, dirty dirty talk, fingering, slight body worship ig?, praise, I literally have no idea I wrote it at a time when I should've been in bed so lmk if I missed anything

-

this is for the jackson wang party fic collab finished with @mingsolo (hella good) @flurrys-creativity (Pygalgia, Effervescent, and Abience) and @sanjoongie (trouble) <3 I still have one more to go but we'll ignore that LMAOOOOO I added too much plot :') flurry was a dear and helped me sort out my thoughts and I managed to write 8k of it in one day lol.

hope u all enjoy and sorry I'm a professional yapper there's no shutting me up

“Going out again?” you ask your best friend and flatmate, San, as he walks past where you’re seated at the kitchen counter, suffering through your essays.

“Yep,” San answers easily, popping the ‘p’ and leaning over to take a peek at your laptop screen. “You misspelt ‘dextrorotatory’, you wrote it as ‘dexrotatory’.”

As your eyes find the typo, you groan and plant your head on the table. “I give up,” you declare dramatically, “I’ll drop out and become a taxi driver.”

San laughs. “First of all, you can’t drive that well. Second of all, you’d make more money as a stripper.” He dodges your smack with ease. “Third, you’re smart and you’ll ace these like always. You’re just a little mentally constipated. Why don’t you join me tonight?”

You think about it for a minute. While you probably do need a break from staring at your laptop, you know how wild the parties San goes to can get from personal experience. And you don’t think it’s a good idea when it's the end of your semester and the final year of your master's program. You just can’t afford to do that. “I’ll pass this time,” you sigh. “Maybe after exam season.”

San hums. “All right. Make sure to take a break, though,” he reminds you, dropping a quick kiss on the top of your head. “See you later.”

He soon disappears out of the door and you turn your focus away from your best friend to your homework. You feel bad for whoever his new conquest will be at the party.

In your opinion, it’s best to keep San at arm’s length when it comes to a romantic relationship. Not that you like him, but you also don’t want to be another notch on his bedpost, and you most certainly do not want to ruin your eight-year-long friendship. It’s not hard to see that San isn’t interested in a long relationship, not right now at least.

You honestly find it amusing that so many girls and guys still throw themselves at him and then get upset when he doesn’t give them a second glance after the initial night. His reputation precedes him, especially in your small town, and yet there will always be a line out the door for him. You don’t even know how he knows so many people.

With a sigh, you clear out your thoughts and refocus on your organic chemistry work. You’re lucky your job offered to pay for your master's classes, but the workload is killing you inside. You’re incredibly happy you’re almost done, and with newfound motivation, you hunker down and start writing out your notes again.

It’s almost two in the morning when you finally yawn and start putting your books away, and it’s almost three when you hear the front door open and the sound of San stumbling into the shoe rack as he always does. “You’re home already, Sanah?”

“YN!” San stumbles his way into the bathroom where you’re combing your hair, wrapping his arms around you and tucking his flushed face into your neck. “You’re still up?”

You laugh, tapping him on the head with your brush. “Yes, but I’m about to go to bed. And you should too, you know.”

San groans, his hold on your waist tightening and his words slurring together. “I don’t wanna,” he whines, “the bed's too cold.”

You sigh fondly. This happens almost every time he drinks, and usually, that’s why he doesn’t drink too much when he’s by himself. He gets too cuddly with people and you’re usually the one to keep him from bedding everyone he sees.  You suppose he somehow didn’t end up with anyone in bed and he’s disappointed now. “Do you think you’ll ever ask to sleep with me nicely, or will you just settle for wrestle-cuddling me into my own bed?” you ask, rolling your eyes as San does not answer, just pulling you towards your room. “There’s my answer.”

You’re too used to his drunk antics and just let him move you around. It’s comforting in a way, that he’s comfortable enough around you to do this with you, and it makes your heart warm whenever he throws his arm around you and presses his face in your neck.

You’d never admit it, but it’s nights like this when you sleep the best. With his warm breath tickling your neck, you let your body relax and your eyes flutter shut.

-

“God, I’ve got a raging headache,” San groans when he sees you enter the kitchen with a mess of bed hair. “I went so crazy with the soju last night, I think I’m going to die.”

You laugh, reaching for the pot to make some oatmeal for him. “Don’t be so dramatic. Why did you even drink so much anyway? No bitches?”

San snorts but immediately whines from the sharp pain that probably shot through his skull. “You’re so mean to me! No, I got no bitches, but that was from my own choice anyway. I don’t want to fuck around anymore.”

Both your eyebrows raise into your hairline. “No? What changed things, hm? Finally decided your one true love is Byeol?” As if on cue, your shared cat meows and curls around your ankles, and you bend down to scratch behind her ears.

“Never had to decide that, we all know she’s the real number one in my life. No, I think I’m interested in someone.” You stop your petting of Byeol, who meows in protest and runs off to pout somewhere. “Come on, don’t act like you just saw a ghost.”

“Who?” is the only question that comes out of your mouth. Of course, San has had a crush before, but he’s never stopped screwing around unless he was actively dating that person. He’s a fuckboy, but he’s not a piece of shit at least. This is new.

“Lee Yeseul. I met her yesterday at the party, and she’s so sweet. She was so out of place at the party, and not in a mean way. She just…has such an aura around her.” San’s voice is soft even just talking about her and you get the feeling he’s being serious. “We’re meeting up for coffee today.”

“That’s…amazing, Sanah. I really hope it goes well for you,” you smile at him, pushing a bowl of oatmeal over to him. “Don’t forget to let me make a speech at your wedding.”

San chuckles, rolling his eyes at your jokes. “Yeah, yeah. Don’t you have study group today? Go there and stop bothering me.”

You ruffle his messy hair before planting a kiss on it and pinching his cheek. He blindly reaches around to smack at you but you dodge him easily, laughing as you head out to grab your keys. “See you later, Sanah. Have a good da-ate.”

San grumbles at you but ultimately returns to his food. You think you can hear him muttering about you being a pain in the ass and you smile to yourself. You don’t have the heart to tell him you know Lee Yeseul…and she’s a major bitch. You sincerely hope she’s sweet to San at least—he deserves the best. But you find her absolutely draining, especially with how often she talks about herself and doesn’t pay attention to anyone else ever. If she cries in your class one more time you think you might smack her yourself.

You still remember the time you had gotten a call that your grandfather had died, and after overhearing your conversation, instead of comforting you, she started talking about how “so many of my family members died in the past ten years.” Sure, maybe she was trying, but you’ve known about her antics enough that it was clear she just wanted to make it about her.

But if San likes her, who are you to interfere? He has a pretty good eye for who has a good personality so maybe Yeseul has changed. You’re not one to stop him. Not that you ever could. When he first started going out to party, you would tag along to make sure he wouldn’t make any bad decisions, but your efforts seldom paid off. You’re pretty sure he must be blessed since he somehow hadn’t pissed off anyone majorly enough to have them call a hit on him.

Shaking your head, you rid yourself of these thoughts and go to the library. There’s no use dwelling on it, the more you think about it, the worse your feeling about his crush on Yeseul gets. He’s a grown man, he doesn’t need you to parent him.

“Woah, who pissed in your cereal?” You should’ve known you wouldn’t be able to hide your bad mood from your study buddy, Hongjoong. Although you only see him for studying, you’re confident enough to call him your closest friend other than San. “Are you okay?”

You sigh, dropping your books on the table. It earns you a harsh ‘shh’ from the librarian which you apologise half-heartedly for. “Do you remember Yeseul? Lee Yeseul?”

Hongjoong’s brows raise high into his hairline. “The professional bitcher? What did she do now?”

“San’s into her, and with her personality, she’s probably loving the attention from the professional heartbreaker.” You groan, glaring at the cover of your organic chemistry textbook. “It’s none of my business if he cares for her, but damn, I wish he could’ve picked anyone else.”

Hongjoong hums, leaning forward and poking at the top of your head. “Look, you’ve been his friend for years. I think you have a bit more of a reason to poke your nose into his business than most. Give it a few weeks, and if it truly bothers you, then you can bring it up to San.”

You sigh. “Maybe.” You say nothing else on the topic and Hongjoong knows not to broach it anymore. Sometimes you wish he wasn’t so smart.

-

“YN, I didn’t know you knew Yeseul!” is the first thing San says to you one week after he returns from one of his many dates with her. “When I mentioned you being my roommate she told me you were in the same class as her.”

You wince to yourself as you take a long swig of your coffee. “Mmh, I didn’t think it was that relevant,” you say. You can practically hear Hongjoong rolling his eyes at your excuse. You know you should tell him your qualms about Yeseul, especially since the gross feeling in your gut has only gotten stronger. But you’re not sure you want to tread those waters. San’s sweet, but he’s loyal to a fault and probably wouldn’t like you talking badly about Yeseul.

San narrows his eyes, clearly suspicious but not willing to pry. “Well, maybe if we ever find you a date, we can go on a double date.” He moves on pretty quickly, though, walking over to lean over your shoulder and look at your laptop. “Still going on that paper?”

You hum, cracking your knuckles. “Yeah, it’s due tomorrow so I need to pump it out today and then get Hongjoong to look it over.” You lean back, letting your head rest on San’s torso as you yawn. “I can’t wait for this to be over so that I can graduate already.”

San laughs, leaning down to rest his chin on your head. “You’re smart. You can do this. And when you’re done, I’ll take you to a party and we can celebrate.”

You groan, shifting forward and putting your hands back on the keyboard. “Well, in that case, I should get back to writing this.” As you start typing again, you hear the buzzer ring and the warmth of San’s body leaves you as he goes to check who it is.

“Oh, hey, Yeseul! Come on up!” Your eyebrows raise into your hairline and your head snaps up. Why would Yeseul go to all this trouble of coming here? Didn’t they just see each other?

You close your eyes and take a couple of deep breaths before facing the dragon herself. You can hear the tell-tale sound of her voice pitched up to sound more sweet, although it’s grown to be grating on your ears. “Hi, Sannie,” she purrs and you have to refrain from retching. “I was on my way home but I realised it went right by your apartment so I figured I could come say hi. It doesn’t look like you’re too busy, right?”

“No, not at all,” San replies, and you hate how sweetly he talks to her. “YN is in too, she’s writing her final paper. Wanna say hi? She could probably use the distraction.”

No, I don’t need the distraction, is what you want to scream out, but your mother did not raise you like that although you wish she did. Instead, you just smile politely at the girl entering your kitchen. “Hello, Yeseul. Good to see you again.”

“Hey, YNie!” Her cheery nickname for you has your eye twitching. “How’s the paper going? I finished mine a few weeks ago so I’m home free. Just need to submit it.”

“That’s great, Yeseul,” you say, tone slightly more monotonous than you wanted it to be and San shoots you a look. “Hopefully you get a good grade on it.”

“Hey, would you want to join us for dinner?” San cuts in and you can already feel a headache starting to pulse behind your eyes. “I was going to order pizza since it’s my turn today and I’m not nearly as good of a cook as YN.”

“Oh, that would be lovely! I don’t mind whatever toppings,” Yeseul claps happily. The urge to punch her in the face increases bit by bit for you. San nods happily, stepping out into the living room to place the call. After a moment, Yeseul turns to you with puppy eyes and you brace yourself for whatever she has up her sleeve. “Could I trouble you for a glass of water, YNie?”

You try your best to keep your composure as you get up to fetch her a glass of water. She takes it without even a thank you and you decide you’d much rather die than deal with her any longer so you close your laptop with a sigh. “I’m actually meeting with a friend for dinner, but you definitely should stay and have fun,” you say, smiling as plausibly as you can. You do not have dinner plans but you’re sure you can figure it out.

When you go into your room, you’re drawing blanks. You’re still going out, but you’ll probably just end up calling a friend to complain. As you leave the room and grab your keys, San meets eyes with you and frowns. “Where are you going?”

“Ah, I promised to have dinner with a friend so I’m heading out. Enjoy your time with Yeseul, though.”

The furrow between San’s brows deepens. “But I already ordered the pizza.”

You laugh, shaking your head. “I can bring the leftovers tomorrow for lunch. Sorry, I just forgot to tell you, but I really have to go now. Bye!” Before he can say goodbye as well, you slip out the door. The suffocating feeling that is encompassing you lifts and you sigh in relief, but then you somehow feel worse at the idea of San and Yeseul having fun and giggling and cuddling.

You shake your head again, trying to clear your muddled thoughts before setting down to go find your dinner. Fast food was the easiest option, and you figured you could at least sit in your car and wallow in self-pity.

-

After you receive your order you park and pull out your phone, scrolling through your contacts. You don’t want to call your family because as much as you love them, they can be a bit over-protective and probably will offer to help you find a different apartment and that would be a bit dramatic. In the end, Hongjoong is probably the next best option.

He doesn't pick up immediately, and you’re just about to hang up when the phone crackles and Hongjoong’s voice comes through. “Why are you calling me?”

You can’t help but bark out a laugh at his disgruntled tone. “Hongjoong, it’s a perfectly reasonable hour to call, don’t blame me for your shit sleeping schedule. Are you actually free though?”

Hongjoong sighs and if you focus you can hear the sound of him rolling over in bed. “What’s up?”

“It’s about Yeseul again. She came around today, and it was just…so suffocating. Like, why did San have to pick her? There’s so many girls, and out of them all he picks her? The most bitchy one I know?”

Hongjoong hums. “Why does it annoy you so much?”

You groan, leaning your head back and taking a long sip of your drink. “She’s self-centred, bitchy, and she’s just so fake. I don’t think this relationship will end well, Joong. Clearly he’s just blinded and she’s so manipulative.”

“But why are you so bothered by this specifically? I mean, sure we’ve had bad interactions with Yeseul, but you’re pretty nonchalant about the shit San gets up to and you like to let him deal with the consequences himself.”

You frown glaring at the phone although you know he can’t see it and you pop a fry into your mouth. “I don’t know. It just feels different. I feel like I should interfere this time. I mean, he’s a lot more serious this go around.”

Hongjoong hums, rolling once again as he yawns. “YN, be totally honest with me. This is a shot in the dark, but I think this is pretty important.” You hold your breath in anticipation. “Do you like San?”

“Oh sure, he’s a good friend–”

“You and I both know that’s not what I meant.” You bite your lip, stiffening in your chair. “YN, you need to be honest with yourself. The way you talk about San, you interact with him, it’s not how just roommates, just friends interact. You kiss each other's heads, YN. And it can be platonic, but I’ve rarely seen San do that to his female friends, and I’ve never seen you do that, period. You don’t even kiss me.” His voice turns teasing on the last bit but you’re too shocked to register.

Do you like San? You love him like a friend, of course. But when you think about him being with anyone else, even if it wasn’t Yeseul, something in you aches. When you think about San’s smile being directed to anyone else, you can feel a burning in your gut. The answer is clear, whether you like it or not.

“I…yes. I do.” The confession comes out quietly. “But I don’t want to do anything about it. Like you said, it’s up to San whether he likes Yeseul enough. I can’t interfere.”

You can practically hear the look Hongjoong would be levelling at you. “Why not?”

You shrug. “When San likes someone, nothing can stop him from liking someone unless he wants to. I’ll just let it run its course and hopefully my own feelings will vanish in the process.”

“That doesn’t sound very healthy, YN.”

You let out a despondent laugh. “Sure, probably not. But who knows? Maybe I can find someone else in the process.” You let out a sigh before glancing at your now-cold sandwich. “I gotta head out, but thanks for talking, Joong. I’ll see you in class.”

Hongjoong can barely say goodbye before you hang up the phone and lean back. This is going to be difficult. The more you see Yeseul, the more you know you’ll accidentally slip up and something will tip her and San off. Your headache is pulsing behind your eyes and you take a small bite of your sandwich, your appetite diminishing. You miss being a child and your biggest worry is that San sneezed on your lollipop.

With another groan, you wrap up the sandwich and just go for a late-night drive instead to clear your head. It’s something that has never failed to calm you down and keep your mind level. San always berates you for driving alone at night, but you’d like to say you’re pretty safe. Plus, even he has agreed that it’s pretty calming when—you frown, forcing thoughts of San to leave your brain.

You don’t really know how long you’ve been out, but it’s surely long enough that Yeseul has left. As you carefully open the door, there’s a long silence, and you sigh, happy you made it home free. But as you’re about to call out for San, you hear a high-pitched moan come from his bedroom. And it certainly is not San.

You almost turn tail and head right back out of the apartment when you hear San’s reverberating moans fill the house. Against your better judgment, you take off your shoes and step closer towards his bedroom. His bedroom door is cracked open and curse him for putting his mirror right in view where you can see him leaning back on his bed, his lower half hidden off the edge of it and you can only see Yeseul’s knees.

And in your head, you know it’s wrong. But your heart is beating out of your chest and you can feel heat building in your core. And, well, you’ve always worn your heart on your sleeve. You keep yourself pressed against the wall, staring at the way the muscles in San’s neck strain and the way he moans with every snap of his hips. You’re sure your panties are soaked through by now, and your teeth sink into your lower lip to keep yourself quiet. The taste of copper enters your mouth but you couldn’t care less.

It’s only when San sits up, probably to fuck into Yeseul better and he disappears from the mirror that you rip yourself away and escape into your own room. Not another thought enters your brain as you strip your leggings and underwear off, flopping on your bed and closing your eyes as you let your hand trail down to press against your slick pussy. It doesn’t take long for you to sink your fingers into your sopping cunt, turning your head to bury your face into your pillow.

The guilt in the back of your mind is quickly sent away as you imagine San’s hands fucking you instead. He’s always had well-worn hands, and your brain fogs up as you imagine him leaning forward to mouth at your neck as he fucks you.

Your brain flips back and forth between the idea of him eating you out so well and fucking so many loads into you with his thick cock that your stomach swells and you whimper into your pillow as your core tightens and you come onto your fingers. You feel tears prick your eyes as you get up to wipe your hands of the cream coating your fingers and toss the tissue in the trash. You’re not sure how you’ll be able to face San or Yeseul again after that.

You can feel the shame burning inside of you and you close your eyes and cry yourself to sleep silently.

-

Waking up is disorienting, your eyes red-rimmed and your bottom lip raw and blood dried on it. You feel like death and you’re pretty sure you can’t attend class like this. You lean over and grab your phone, yawning as you send your professor a text with a weak excuse. You don’t really care how plausible it is, Professor Jeong usually is quite understanding so you don’t worry about that for too long. San had texted you an hour ago, asking if you had come home, and you choose not to answer it.

You can hear mumbling in the other room, probably Yeseul and San sharing goodbyes, when you hear the door shut behind her. Unlike you, she’s probably happy to go to class and tell all her friends about her night with the campus fuckboy.

It takes another thirty minutes for you to finally roll out of bed and put some lotion on your face, hoping for the traces of the questionable night you had to erase from your face. Once you’re satisfied with your appearance, you venture out into your living room where San is standing by the door. “When did you get back?” he asks without even turning around. “I texted you like, an hour ago.”

You shrug, avoiding his eyes as you move into the kitchen to find breakfast. “I only just woke up, San.”

Your roommate gives a short huff, following close behind you. “Don’t you have class? Yeseul just left so you could walk with her.”

You try not to roll your eyes at the idea of that. “I’m not feeling well so I don’t think I’ll go.” “You’re not feeling well?” San’s voice deepens in concern and as you grab a yoghurt, he places his hand atop your forehead. “You are feeling pretty warm.”

At his touch, too many memories of last night flood through your brain and you shake away his hand. “Yeah. I’ll just go lie down for a little. Have a good day.”

Before he can say anything else, or realise your suspicious behaviour, you dodge past him and head off back into your room to hide. “I left your pizza in the fridge,” he calls after you and you just grunt in thanks before barricading yourself in your room.

You lean against the door for a minute before you realise you didn’t even grab a spoon. Unwilling to go back out there, you’ve resigned yourself to licking it out of the container like a cat when you hear a gentle knock at the door.

“I got you a spoon,” San’s unsure voice filters through the wooden door, and you squeeze your eyes shut.

“Thanks, San,” you murmur, turning to open the door a crack and take the proffered utensil. “Sorry for being short with you.”

His lips quirk into a half-smile, a silent acceptance of your apology. “I get it. Just get some rest, YN.”

You close the door again, this time a warm heart in your chest mixing with the guilt you still feel in your gut. You’re not sure how on earth you’re going to get over your feelings for San.

-

Avoiding San goes well for the most part. You are in your finals week anyway, and you’re spending most of your time at the library or in class. Your college’s library stays open for 24 hours during the last week of school anyways so some nights you’ve just been staying there until morning. Hongjoong disapproves heavily but doesn’t say much about it and you appreciate his support either way.

Avoiding Yeseul proves much harder. She seems to always find her way to wherever you happen to be, interrupting you and Hongjoong’s study sessions with a perfect smile and narrowed eyes. You don’t know what she wants from you, and you aren’t pleased with her presence.

But one evening, you’re about to leave the library to have some dinner when she corners you. “YN, let’s talk,” she says in that sickeningly saccharine voice of hers, looping her arm into yours and pulling you down the street. “I have some things to ask you.”

Unwilling, you try to tug your arm out of her grasp, but the girl is stronger than you expected. She pulls you all the way to her dorm on campus, sitting you down on her leather couch. “What is your relationship with Choi San?”

Her question comes so suddenly you need a minute to register. To her credit, Yeseul waits patiently for you to gather your thoughts. “He’s my friend and roommate?” you say as truthfully as you can muster, although you know it’s an absolute lie, and judging from her expression, Yeseul doesn’t believe you either.

“Don’t take me as a fool, YN. The way he talks about you is undeniable.”

“That seems like something you should be talking to him about,” you say, attempting to get up from the couch but Yeseul just pushes you back down.

“I’ve tried. He just tells me there’s nothing to worry about and I don’t believe that,” Yeseul grits through her teeth.

And you have to give it to her. She did try to come to San about her worries. But the way she refuses to trust him grates on your nerves. He stopped his fuckboy activities to be with her, and yet she’s worried about you, one of the few girls who isn’t all over him at any moment. You arch a brow. “Do you not trust him?”

Yseul scoffs. “Of course not. He’s a fuckboy. But I like the status I get with him. I just don’t want to end up embarrassed.”

Well, that will be inevitable, you can’t help but think to yourself. No matter how much your relationship with San is strained, you’re not about to let Yeseul talk shit about him like he isn’t genuinely trying for her.

“That’s where you come into play,” Yeseul’s smirk turns sharp. “I’m going to call San. Ask him to choose between us. If he chooses you, then I want you to stay far, far away from him.”

You shrug. No matter the outcome, it’s not like you’re not already keeping your distance from San. In the end, you’ll just tell him to break up with her and let him deal with the chaos himself. “Go ahead,” bitch.

San picks up on the first ring. “Yeseul?” He’s cheery and your heart aches at the thought of Yeseul breaking his so easily. “What’s the occasion?”

“Hey, babe, I just have a quick question, and I need you to answer truthfully for me, okay?” At his pause, she takes that as a go-ahead. “Who would you pick? Me or YN.”

There’s a long silence on the phone. “Yeseul, we need to break up.”

Only one thing unites you and Yeseul in this moment, and it’s your shared confusion for San’s reaction. “What do you mean?” her voice turns panicked. “Isn’t that a little far?”

“You’ve been stuck on this, and I don’t know how much I have to reassure you, Yeseul. I haven’t even seen YN for the past two weeks. And she’s my closest friend. I’m not dropping her for a two-week relationship. I hope you have a good time, Yeseul.”

Before you can react at all, Yeseul screeches and points an accusing finger at you. “This is all your fault, YN!”

Your jaw drops at her absolute audacity. “My fault? What are you on? I was just trying to live peacefully when you dragged me into this plot ignoring my advice. I told you to talk to him, to just fucking trust him. God, you’re an idiot. And I’m going home.”

Without another word, you leave, still fuming over that interaction. Couldn’t she just have made the call without you? You’re happy you don’t have to do all the convincing for San to leave her, but that just complicates things for you. Would he really so easily drop Yeseul just for you? From what you’ve heard, he was practically head over heels for her.

With another sigh, you head back to the library. You need to finish that exam.

-

“Pens down, and turn in your exams,” you hear the professor call, and you don’t think you’ve ever gotten up so fast. You’re so, so fucking happy that you’ve finished your last year and now you’re free.

As soon as your professor accepts your paper you race out of the lecture hall, only stopped by the cafeteria when you hear someone call your name. Lee Juyeon, someone you’ve started growing closer to, waves you down. “Hey, YN, congrats on finishing!” he smiles at you and you can’t help but smile back, the giddiness contagious.

“Thanks! You too,” you say, pulling him into a hug. “It’s so nice to be done.” Practically nothing could dampen your mood, especially seeing Juyeon. He’s sweet, and you have an inkling he likes you. And you’re not opposed to it.

“It really is,” Juyeon agreed cheerfully. “Look, I have to go celebrate with my family, I just wanted to say hi. But hey…there’s this end of the year party on Saturday, and I was wondering if you wanted to go with me.”

And your suspicions were right. You think about it for a moment. You’re not the biggest party person, anyone knows that, but Juyeon is sweet and just what you need, so you accept eagerly. It doesn’t take long for the two of you to exchange numbers and for him to promise to send you more details before he runs off. And through your excitement, you know you still have to go meet with San who’s probably waiting for you just outside. He wanted to see you as soon as you finish your exams, and you didn’t have the heart to decline.

“Congratulations on finishing your last exam, YN!” San cheers as soon as you exit the college building. “I’m so proud of you!”

You’re too tired to complain when San sweeps you up into a hug, just letting yourself relax in his firm arms. After all this work, you think you’ll let yourself indulge in his affection. “Thanks, Sanah. I appreciate it.” You let your chin rest on his broad shoulder, closing your eyes and letting the exhaustion take over you. “Can I go to bed now?”

You hear him chuckle, the vibrations from his chest comforting you. “Yeah, yeah. We can celebrate later. Come on.”

He tugs you all the way to your apartment, dropping you on the couch and quickly curling right up next to you. You can’t bring yourself to care. “I’m proud of you,” he repeats into your hair as he tucks your head into his neck. Your eyes flutter shut.

When you reopen them, it’s bordering on evening. San is no longer wrapped around you, and you can hear him moving about in the kitchen. “San,” you call out, voice raspy from having just woken up. “What are you doing?”

“Ah, I’m making dinner,” he responds, his voice too warm for your liking, your heart beating just a little faster. “Come and eat.”

With a bit of difficulty, you rise from the couch and move to the kitchen, taking a seat at the counter. “Japchae? When did you learn how to cook this?”

San chuckles. “Wooyoung taught me the other day because he was bored. I figured it’d be a nice surprise for you after all your hard work.”

Your lips twitch, unsure if you should smile or pout. “That’s sweet. Thank you again, San.”

As you start eating the noodles (there’s a little too much sesame but you don’t have the heart to tell San that), San clears his throat. “So…I promised to take you to a party.”

You vaguely remember this conversation. “Ah, yeah. What did you have in mind?”

“There’s this end of the year party, it’s supposed to be the biggest one, hosted by Jackson Wang.”

“Ah–” you shake your head, eyes apologetic. “I promised someone else I’d go with them. I didn’t know that was the party you wanted to take me to. Maybe we can do something else on a different day?”

San’s lips turn downward the slightest bit. “That’s okay. There are other parties. Who invited you, by the way?” His tone is casual, and yet you still feel like you’re walking into the lion’s den.

“Ah, Lee Juyeon from college. I think he’s in Hongjoong’s philosophy department, but he’s a year behind. He’s cute so I figured I’d give it a try.”

“It’s a date?” Your brows furrow at the heaviness in San’s voice but you pay it no mind and nod. “I see. Well, have fun.”

The rest of the dinner is filled with silence, San picking at his food and you in no mood to try and dissect his mood. He takes your empty bowl and starts doing the dishes, and you mumble out a thank you before running back to your room. He’s clearly not willing to talk more and it’s best to give him space.

As you lay in bed, you can’t help but worry about what is so grating on his mind after you mentioned your date. You can’t think of anything that would cause him to be angry—as far as you’re aware he has no grudges against Lee Juyeon, much less met him. Shaking your head, you try and fall asleep. It’s best not to dwell on it, you can just ask him tomorrow.

-

It’s Saturday, and you’re in a foul mood. San hasn’t spoken to you in the four days leading up to the party, avoiding you like there’s no tomorrow. The only saving grace comes in the form of Juyeon’s excited texts, telling you all about his outfit for the party, and you respond with matching enthusiasm. When you meet with Juyeon in front of the large house where the party is held, the thought of San isn’t even on your mind. Instead, you just take Juyeon’s offered hand and follow him into the party.

You weave through the bodies, reaching the counter where shots are being passed around. “Want vodka or tequila?” Juyeon asks, his voice pitching higher to be heard over the bass. Without answering him, you just reach for the bottle of tequila, pouring the two of you shots. “Good choice,” Juyeon laughs, throwing his head back as he downs the alcohol, you following suit shortly.

“You know, I never pegged you for a college party fan,” you lean in, laughing. “Maybe I should hang out with you more.”

Juyeon chuckles, wrapping an arm around your waist. “Maybe you should. I know great party-throwers. Although I’ve heard you’ve been to your fair share, what being San’s friend and all.”

You shake your head, a smile on your face. “Maybe at first, but you know, organic chemistry isn’t an easy major to balance with a party life.”

Juyeon laughs loudly, bumping you with his hip. “I understand the pain. Philosophy falls into that category of majors too. Another shot?”

You take the second shot happily, letting the alcohol burn through your veins as you stumble alongside Juyeon’s wandering through the crowd. Whatever you’re doing is a blur, all you can focus on is Juyeon’s smile and his warm hand holding yours.

It feels like barely a moment has passed when Juyeon pulls you into a nearly empty room of couches, only a few other couples lingering in the corners. “I hope you’ve been enjoying yourself,” Juyeon starts, his eyes sparkling as he takes in your appearance. “It’s been fun hanging out.”

“I did too,” you agree with a small smile, looking up at him through your lashes.

He leans in, and you lean in, and your lips brush. It’s a sweet kiss, one that you lean into as Juyeon wraps his arms around your waist. It’s warm and you smile into it. And then a familiar face pops into your head. You wonder to yourself how San would kiss you, if he would do it as sweetly as Juyeon or if he would devour your lips like it was his last meal.

When Juyeon pulls away for air, you feel guilt burning in your stomach again. Why would you think of other men when Juyeon’s right here in front of you? As Juyeon leans in to kiss you again, you almost move back before a hand grips your shoulder and pulls you into a broad chest.

“Hey, man, I’m going to have to talk to YN if you don’t mind.” You’d recognise your best friend’s voice anywhere, and it only serves to fill you with annoyance. Sure, you weren’t as into Juyeon’s kisses as you expected, but it doesn’t mean you’re thrilled to be interrupted by the man who’s been ignoring you.

Juyeon takes one look at San, and something changes in his eyes. A mix of reluctance and acceptance, and with a short nod and smile towards you, he slips away from you. You turn to San, frowning at the sharpness in his narrowed eyes, not one you’re used to seeing or enjoy seeing. “Why would you kiss him?” he spits, and your annoyance grows with confusion being added to the mix.

“What do you mean, ‘why kiss him’? I told you, San, I was on a date. Why the fuck did you interrupt us?”

“I like you.” Those three words would be a dream for you to hear from his mouth…if you weren’t so pissed.

“No, fuck that. I do not need to hear that from you right now. Not when I was enjoying my night with Juyeon. What was confessing supposed to do for you, San? It’s too late now. I wanted to enjoy this party, and now I have to go apologise to Juyeon for you.” San opens his mouth to speak, but you shake your head, pushing him away from you.

You leave San standing by himself as you search for Juyeon, your mood immediately souring. Why would he fucking do this to you? You can feel tears burning your eyelids and you abandon your search for Juyeon, searching instead for some liquor to take away your embarrassment.

As you pour yourself another shot of tequila, you notice a familiar face, Hongjoong talking to a girl you recognise as someone he hangs out with sometimes. They look like they’re getting it on and you feel a little bad, but you need his advice. “Hey, Kim Hongjoong!” you call out to him, waving him over. Hongjoong’s eyes brighten and he makes his way over, leaving the girl staring after him longingly, but her attention is soon taken away by two other guys. You recognise one of them from the cafeteria but you don’t remember his name.

“Hey, YN, what’s up? I didn’t expect to see you here, did San take you?” Your face falls and Hongjoong realises he stepped into dangerous territory. “Okay, what happened?”

-

“I can’t believe San is mad at me for kissing someone at the party,” you groan after explaining to Hongjoong the events leading up to now. “Sure, maybe it wasn’t the best move on my part but he’s had like, twenty million one-night stands, and yet I can’t kiss someone else? He hasn’t even talked to me after I mentioned going on a date. And yet he looked positively murderous after he saw me kissing that other guy.”

Hongjoong tilts his head, confused. “Isn’t that what you wanted, though? You like him.”

“I did! I do! But I’m so sick of waiting around for him, and I could’ve had a chance at liking someone else. He’s all over the place, and I don’t know if that’s what I want in a man.” You’re lying to both Hongjoong and yourself, and Hongjoong knows it, raising an eyebrow.

“Honestly, YN, it just sounds like you need to talk to him.” Hongjoong crosses his arms, tapping his foot and eager to back to the girl was with, but also not wanting to ditch you in your time of need. You feel a little bad for pulling him away, but your mind is swirling with so many thoughts, you don’t know if you can sort them out by yourself and drinking to erase those thoughts is not something you like to do. You’re not San.

And speak of the devil, you smell his familiar cologne before his hand lands on your shoulder and pulls you into his chest. You whirl around out of his grip and glare at him. “Get off me,” you snap. “I’m in the middle of a conversation right now, Choi San.”

With one glance at Hongjoong, he raises his hands and winks at you. “Have that talk, YN. It’ll do you more good than harm.”

Oh, you’re going to kill that traitor after the party. You turn your attention back to San, your mouth twisted into a frown. “You make this quick or else.”

San has the decency to look a little ashamed as his eyes shake. “Can we talk on the patio? It’s too loud in here.”

With a dramatic sigh, you grab his wrist and pull him through the crowd to the back door, practically slamming it behind you. You can see the eyes of people interested in the drama through the windows but you pay it no mind. “Speak. You get five minutes before I go back in and you don’t talk to me again for the rest of the night.”

San’s face falls and his lips pull into a pout. But no matter how subconsciously adorable he is, you refuse to fall for his charms this time. The heat of anger is still curling in your gut when you think about the argument from earlier. “YN, come on, I had a good reason.”

You shake your head, ignoring the strands of hair that fall into your eyes. “No, San. Confessing to me is not a good reason to fuck up my night. You didn’t even apologise. You’ve been ignoring me for days after I mentioned my date, and the moment I kiss Juyeon you get all angry and jealous? Be for real.” You pause for breath, glaring daggers into his eyes. “You are not owed my time, especially after that shit you pulled. Yeseul’s jealousy is why you broke up with her, so why are you like this to me?”

San’s gaze intensifies and you can see him actively trying to reign in his temper. Although he does his best to remain calm, if tempers are rising, he can be intense. “YN, what was I supposed to do? Watch you go out with him? Watch you slip from my fingers just like that?”

“Yes!” you all but scream at him. “If I could sit by and let Yeseul take each little bit of your heart, you could’ve done the same! I was going to be happy, San! I wouldn’t have to sit behind and watch you from the sidelines with my heart slowly cracking. But I don’t get that same courtesy.”

You step forward, poking his chest with a finger as you let loose your storm of thoughts. In your anger, you don’t even notice San’s arm moving until it wraps around your waist and pulls you into him. The action shocks you enough that you stop mid-sentence, your finger still pressing into San’s flesh. “You love me?” San leans in, his nose brushing against yours.

You can feel heat flare up in your face as you stare wide-eyed at him. It takes you a moment to register your compromising position and you stumble back, pushing at his chest. “Don’t do that,” you hiss, turning your eyes away. “I don’t like you, San. Not anymore.”

“You’re lying.” San’s voice is firm. “Look at me in the eyes and tell me you don’t like me anymore.”

You don’t know where you got it from. You’ve never been good at lying, not to San. Maybe it was the alcohol burning through your system, mixing with the shame and anger you feel. But this time, you stare him directly in the eye and say the four words that might’ve been the biggest lie in your life. “I don’t like you.” San’s brows furrow and he shakes his head.

“No–”

“Yes, San. You cannot just waltz around and expect me to keep the patience I had for you. I’m sick of being pulled around like a puppet. Maybe at first you didn’t know. But refusing to give me space when I asked for it?” You shake your head, glancing back at the party. “I’m going back in. We can talk about the apartment lease later.”

Without glancing back, you re-enter the house. And maybe it hurts a little that he doesn’t go after you, but at this point, you’re too numb and all you want to do is go home and cry. But home is not an option, not when it would probably be the first place he would look for you. Fighting back the tears threatening to fall from your eyes, you slide into your car, staring blankly at the wheel for a long moment until you feel composed and sober enough to drive.

And drive you certainly do. You’re not quite sure where you’re going, and you’re plenty aware that this is a bad idea, but you just let yourself go around and calm yourself down first. The crisp breeze paired with the warm spring air does wonders to clear your head and paired with the late times, there are not too many cars out. It’s peaceful.

You’re not too sure how long you were out, but it’s long enough for the blurry memory of the argument to clear and you groan, pulling over to park by the side of the road and let your head hit the steering wheel. You went too far. San had always been the more emotional of you two, always wearing his heart on his sleeve. He must’ve had a hard time with Yeseul, and although it doesn’t excuse him, you never gave him a chance to properly apologise.

With a sigh, you check your phone to see five missed calls and twenty texts from San asking where you are. He somehow even got your neighbours (a sweet couple in their twenties who babysit Byeol sometimes) to ask you if you’re okay. As your finger hovers over the call button, debating whether to call him back, bright headlights shine behind your car and you stiffen. Your hand hovers over the pepper spray you keep in the dash as you press the call button in a panic. No matter what the disagreement was about, you know San would still come to your aid if you needed it.

“YN, open the door. I’ve been worried sick!” San’s voice crackles through the receiver and you spin around in your seat, squinting at the figure standing behind your car and your shoulders sag in relief.

“God, San, you scared the shit out of me!” you scold, leaning over to unlock the passenger seat and push the door open while hanging up the call. “Get in here.”

A haggard-looking San slides in, his eyes red-rimmed and mouth pressed into a thin line. The car that drove him turns and you look back in confusion before San starts explaining. “I wanted to give you space so I stayed at the party,” he starts explaining after a moment. “But I got worried and went to the apartment to find you. But you weren’t there, and I asked all your friends. I’m lucky you left your location on, and my friend gave me a ride.”

You wince. You forgot about turning off your location, although you’re glad you didn’t as it would’ve been more dangerous otherwise. “I’m sorry,” you mumble, turning your eyes to look out the windshield. “I just needed to clear my head so I went for a drive.”

There’s a long period of suffocating silence between the two of you when San finally speaks, his voice quiet. “I’m sorry,” he starts and your head snaps towards him, eyes wide. Of all the things you expected to fall from his lips, an apology is not one of those things. Not tonight, at least. “I was too pushy. I shouldn’t have ignored you, or interrupted your time with Juyeon. I should’ve talked to you like an adult.”

You laugh, resting your head on the steering wheel. “What an astute observation, San. However did you come to that conclusion?” Your exasperation is evident in your tone and San sucks in a breath at how done you seem. “Look, San. I’m sure you didn’t mean it to be that bad. But I’m just…tired. I’m tired of always wondering what is running through your mind, where I am in your list of importance. You date Yeseul, but break up with her over me. You give me the cold shoulder when I go on a date, but suddenly me being on a date is unacceptable. I just don’t know how to take anything.”

Against your will, tears start to drop onto your thighs, streaking down the skin and you sniff. “Shit,” San panics beside you. “I didn’t mean to make you cry.” He hands you a tissue and you take it with shaking hands, pressing your face into it as San tugs you closer, guiding you to lean against him.

He repeats soft little ‘sorry’s and leans his head atop yours, his tears falling onto your hair. The two of you stay in this position for a long while, no words are needed to understand the emotional moment.

“Let’s go home, YN,” San mumbles, his voice vibrating deep in your heart. “Let’s go home and we can talk tomorrow.”

You sniff again, tears run dry as you sit up and wipe your eyes. “Okay,” you whisper out. “Let’s go home.”

San stays attached to you throughout the drive home, his hand gripping onto your own hand whenever he can, and quickly wrapping you into a back hug as you walk up to the apartment. “I…cuddle with me tonight?” you ask, eyes flitting away from his face, missing the brilliant smile that spreads across it.

“I wouldn’t have it any other way,” he hums, walking with you to his room, and he lets you slide in first, the smell of his detergent filling your mind and your eyelids flutter shut already. San crawls in next to you, pulling you close.

“Good night, YN,” San mumbles as your breathing evens out. As you drift off into sleep, you swear you feel his soft lips on your forehead but you dismiss it as wishful thinking.

-

When you reawaken, San’s still curled up, your body covered by his, his breathing slow and gentle. You can’t help but blink a couple of times to make sure it isn’t a dream when his arms tighten around your waist and he shifts. “YN?” His morning voice is as rough as always, rumbling low in his chest.

“Hey, Sanah,” you greet him quietly, leaning up to meet his eyes blinking slowly at you like a cat’s. “Good morning.”

“Hi.” He dips his head to nuzzle into your neck, breathing in your scent. “I should probably explain myself.” His voice vibrates against your neck and you giggle softly at the ticklish feeling.

“That would be nice.”

San huffs, but he can’t complain about your snark. “I like you, YN. I don’t know when I started to, and I definitely didn’t realise I did until I started dating Yeseul. I did like her, but not as deeply as I thought I did. It was so easy to break up with her as soon as she made me pick between you and her. The answer came to me without a doubt in my mind as soon as the question left her lips, and yet I still didn’t realise my true feelings.” He laughs self-deprecatingly, and you stroke his hair comfortingly. “I didn’t realise why I was so pissed about you going out with Juyeon, and that’s why I was avoiding you. It’s a stupid reason, I know. But I just didn’t know why, not until I saw you at the party kissing him. I just wanted to be there instead of you. And I’m sorry, and I understand if you don’t like me anymore, but–”

“I love you.”

His head snaps up to stare at you after your sudden declaration, and after he registers your words a smile spreads across his face. He puffs out a breathy chuckle and you know his answer before he even says it. “I love you too.”

His eyes shine like you’ve hung the stars in the skies, and when they flit down to your lips, you know an unspoken question when you see it. You lean forward slowly, letting your eyes close once more when your lips meet his.

And damn, you were right about how San kisses. In a second, he deepens the kiss, bringing his hands up to cup your face while his tongue swipes at your lips. Shyly, you part your lips and he dives right in, licking into your mouth and biting at your lips.

“Sanah,” you gasp into his mouth, the sound swallowed by his plush lips. “Sanah–”

You repeat his name like a prayer as his lips travel down to your neck, littering wet kisses and bite marks all over your sensitive skin. “Fuck, baby, you’re so sweet to me,” San moans against your body. “Please, please, let me treat you right, make it up to you. Let me worship you.”

You whine as he laves his tongue over your breasts spilling out of the crop top you had worn last night. Any other time you would’ve stressed at how gross the clothes were but right now you could hardly even think about it. “Fuck, yes, please,” you beg when San nips at your cleavage, leaving a mark.

“Ah, already begging for me,” San groans, his hips pressing into your legs. “You’re so perfect.” His voice grows whiney as his sucks on your nipples, making your back arch.

His kisses move down your body until his breath is ghosting over your stomach and his hands are pawing at your pants, shoving them down as quickly as he can. He doesn’t have the same amount of minimal patience for your panties, and before you can react, he’s ripped them off your legs. “Choi San!” you scold, shifting to try and sit up but his grip on your hips stops you from moving too far.

“I’ll buy you a new pair,” San promises before diving right in and sucking at your clit without another moment’s hesitation. Your hips jerk and your core tightens at the sudden feeling as you throw your head back and moan so loudly it’s bordering on a scream

His ministrations on your dripping cunt have you wordless. His fingers are pressing into your hip bones, the sensation making you squirm. As soon as his tongue breaches your clenching hole your hands fly down to grasp at his hair. “Fuck–” you squeal, your legs attempting to close but San just pushes them apart again, busying himself in your folds.

“Fuck, you taste so good,” San groans, the vibrations sending shivers up your spine as he lets his teeth scrape against your clit. You can hardly focus on anything at the barrage of sensations filling you up, San fucking his tongue into you so well. Your thighs are shaking as you can feel yourself grow wetter and wetter against his face.

When you tilt your head down, he meets your eyes as he moves one of his hands to push a finger into your hole. “Shit–” your grip on his hair tightens impossibly. “Sanah–”

“Come for me, love,” San groans, and you let the dam break, screaming out his name until your voice is hoarse, and San licks up your release through it all.

When he finally pulls away from your twitching and sensitive core, his lips are covered in your glistening slick, thick globs of it sitting pretty on his chin. Without thinking, you pull him down and crash your lips against his, tasting yourself on his tongue. San groans as you lick his face clean, shoving your tongue deep into his mouth.

“Fuck, I need to fuck you right now or else I think I might go insane,” San growls, blindly fumbling in his nightstand to pull out a condom as he shoves down his sweats to reveal his hard, red cock. Without another thought, he opens the pack with his teeth, rolling the latex down his length with ease thanks to the precum dribbling down it.

He lines up, the tip of it kissing your hole, when you groan. You’re much too impatient for this, reaching down and holding him steady as you shift your body to sink onto his thick cock. “Shit, YN,” San grits out as you take him deeper and deeper until your cunt kisses his crotch. “You’re too much.”

You pant, shifting on his cock as you try to get used to the stretch. He’s not the longest you’ve had, but he’s thick and the stretch is almost too much. “You’re fucking talking, you fill me up so fucking well, Sanah.” You hiss as you throw your head back, the stinging melting into pleasure. “Fuck me already, San. Or should I go and find Juyeon to–”

You’re cut off by San thrusting into you so violently that you swear the bed shakes. “I don’t want to hear that fucking name out of your mouth anymore,” San commands, leaning forward until his body weight pins you down and your eyes roll back as he starts fucking into you with short, quick thrusts.

With every movement, you feel like you may break apart. You can hear every slick sound, the sound of it obscene, and yet all you want is more. Your previous release coats his cock so well, thick strings of it attaching to his hips.

His arms wrap around your waist, and before you can protest or do anything, he hoists you up until you’re sitting in his lap. You swear this angle makes him impale you even deeper, his cockhead kissing the perfect spot deep inside you. Your head drops to San’s shoulder, moaning against the fabric of his shirt. “Fuck, San, you’re so deep,” you moan high-pitched. “You’re so fucking good for me.”

San growls, pressing a kiss behind your ear. “You’re so tight for me, so much better than Yeseul. I saw you in the mirror, you know,” he whispers conspiratorially and you gasp and clench, snapping your head to look at him. “You’re not as sneaky as you thought, love. Did you touch yourself to the thought of me fucking you so well?”

You whine, words failing you, and San’s hips slow to a stop. You try your best to grind against him but his hands grip your waist, keeping you still. “Please–” you try to beg but San chuckles and nips at your earlobe.

“Answer me, YN.”

“Fuck– Yes!” you cry out, so eager for him to start moving again. “Wanted you to fill me with your cum so well until it was spilling out of me. Please, please, please, fuck me.”

“Hm.” And without any warning, San jerks his hips up into you, biting into your neck like a fucking vampire and you scream, hips stuttering as you come on his cock. You don’t think you’re making any coherent noises, just babbling into his neck as your bones become jelly from the overstimulation.

If you thought the sounds were obscene before, you swear they’ve become ten times worse as you lay limp against San’s body. He’s moving you up and down his cock like a doll and you pant, squeezing your eyes shut as you still feel aftershocks from your orgasm.

“Shit, you’re so warm around me, I’m gonna come,” San moans in your ear, his rhythm breaking as he drops your weight on his cock. You can feel him twitching inside you as his teeth sink into your neck once more. “God, I want to fill you up so badly, but that’s just going to have to wait, my love.”

After a long moment, he pulls out, groaning at your come coating the condom and his thighs. Without thinking, he dips his fingers in the mess and brings it to his mouth, licking it off like it’s the most delicious thing in the world to him. “Come here, baby,” he says in that beautifully raspy voice, and you lean forward, meeting his lips in another kiss.

This kiss is sweet and soft, but the lingering taste of your shared releases still permeates your taste buds. You sigh, leaning your head against his shoulder as he lays against the wall with you in his arms.

“I’m sorry,” he apologises again, pressing another kiss to the top of your head and it’s almost like he hadn’t fucked you like it was your last day on earth. “I won’t ever leave you again.”

You hum, turning your head to pepper kisses over his neck freckles. “I should be the one saying that. I love you, San. And I’ll always run to you with no hesitation.”

[rwrbficrecs]

ever fallen in love (with someone you shouldn’t have fallen in love with) by @everwitch-magiks (book-verse)

@dot524: Such a fun little punk band AU. There’s a meet-cute, some mild angst, and emotional music scenes with bonding. Plus, great cameos of June, Nora, and Alex’s family. I enjoyed the pacing, dialogue, and character development of this AU and its feel-good ending, and it was fun to see them as punk rockers!

Still Sitting in the Corner I Haunt by BrokenChair, mister_nic (book-verse)

@suseagull04: This fic is a high school AU and Groundhog Day combined! Henry is characterized so well in this fic, and each part of this 5+1 has both obvious and subtle differences that combine to make the perfect fic!

The Tea Shop on Verbena Street by @stutteringpeach (book-verse)

@suseagull04: If every fic was this good, I would never get any work done, because it was really hard to put this fic down! The mystery aspect of it is crafted so well, and to top it all off, this is the best slowburn I've read in awhile. Definitely a fic you don't want to miss out on!

Pretty Competent by @noahreids (book-verse)

@na-dineee: Single Dad Alex and hockey captain Henry Fox meet for the first time at Alex’s daughter’s tryouts – and yeah, they take it slow. But honestly, Alex flirts like crazy, Henry’s texting game is on fire, and to top it all off, Alex’s daughter is totally smitten with Henry. My heart does somersaults just thinking about this super sweet and super sexy fic.

The stranger you recognise by @clottedcreamfudge (book-verse)

@suseagull04: Usually I think the sequel is never as good as the original, but that's absolutely not the case with this fic! The version of our faves that we know and love from The Tea Shop on Verbena Street return, and CCF has so much respect and love for these characters that it's impossible to tell that the sequel isn't written by the original author, only with their permission. Add to that the fact that this fic adds tropes that make perfect sense in this verse, and you've got yet another fic that's worthy of becoming a classic. I'll definitely be reading this fic again soon!

Hit (My Love) Out of the Park by bleedingballroomfloor (book-verse)

@suseagull04: Rivals to lovers at its finest! I love the way this fic comes full circle and that it's so fun- the author's love for the sport definitely shows!

the full spectrum of human emotion by @firenati0n (book-verse)

@suseagull04: if you're a fan of movie AUs, you definitely need to read this one! Roop took all the best parts of The Proposal and gave them a RWRB twist! Arthur feels, ALLLLL the proposal feels, just enough nods to the movie to make fans like me happy without writing it word for word, our boys being so oblivious but so soft at the same time, so much heart that it's practically bursting at the seams with it... I can't say it enough, this fic is absolutely AMAZING, a must read!

Flirting for Dummies by @smblmn (book-verse)

@suseagull04: This fic is the perfect combination of holiday fluff, our boys being oblivious and Henry and June being besties! The perfect read to get anyone into the holiday spirit!

I must tell you what you will not ask by @lizzie-bennetdarcy (book-verse)

@suseagull04: combine a college roommates AU with oblivious firstprince (especially Alex, as always) and holiday feels and you have an incredibly soft fic that I'll likely find myself reading again and again, especially during the holiday season!

Careful Cooking by @iboatedhere (book-verse)

@na-dineee: Alex and Henry first met at culinary school, where they were inseparable—how did they end up parting ways?! Years later, they cross paths again under unexpected circumstances … It’s a lovers-to-exes-to-lovers story, with quite a bit of angst. Beautifully written, the tension builds perfectly, and the ending is just as lovely.

Pumped by @myheartalivewrites (book-verse)

@na-dineee: Firstprince goes Climbing AU! Set in London, Alex and Henry meet at their favorite hobby: climbing. After a rocky start, the game is on. Everything about this fic is perfect: the vibes, the banter, the sparks, the pacing, the pining—such a classic and one of my all-time favorites!

Got a will to win and a Cheshire grin by @kiwiana-writes (book-verse)

@suseagull04: This fic is so unique and fun! It captures a year in Alex and Henry's lives as Santa's elves and what that job entails, and the twists and turns all lead to such a satisfying conclusion!

check out our past Monthly Faves here ❤️

[swiftiethatlovesf1]

Toto Wolff with wife. She accompanied him to the award event (idm what is it). Whenever his gaze landed on her, he was just having lovey dovey eyes and couldn't seem to tear it away. She was the same as him. Proud of his achievements. Everyone could see that. Up to you. Fluff and maybe suggestive. Thanks!! :))

Hii guys, I hope you enjoy this request :)

As the doors of the lavish ballroom swing open, you find yourself momentarily overwhelmed by the grandeur of the FIA’s annual award ceremony. Crystal chandeliers hang like glittering constellations from the high ceilings, and the walls are adorned with rich tapestries and golden accents. Soft music plays in the background, mingling with the hum of excited conversation and the occasional clink of champagne flutes. It's a world of luxury and elegance, and yet every year, you feel a sense of wonder stepping into this magical evening.

Toto squeezes your hand gently, drawing your attention back to him. His eyes, filled with warmth and a hint of mischief, sparkle under the dimmed lights. “Look, mein Liebling,” he says, his voice a deep, soothing rumble that you can’t get enough of. “George and Carmen are over there. Let’s go and say hi.”

You nod, smiling, and allow him to guide you through the crowd. He moves with a confidence that draws the eye, effortlessly navigating the sea of glamorous attendees. You catch sight of George and Carmen near a grand piano, both looking elegant and happy. George is dashing in his tuxedo, his bright smile reflecting his successful season, while Carmen is stunning in a flowing emerald gown that compliments her radiant features.

As you approach, Carmen spots you first and waves, her face lighting up with delight. "Hey, you two!" she calls out, pulling you into a warm hug. George follows suit, shaking Toto’s hand enthusiastically.

“It’s so good to see you both,” you say, returning Carmen’s hug. “You look amazing, Carmen. And George, congratulations on your incredible season. You’ve really made a mark!”

“Thanks!” George grins, his cheeks flushing slightly with modesty. “It’s been a great year, and I couldn’t have done it without all the support from Carmen and the team. And speaking of amazing, look at you two! Always the power couple, aren’t you?”

Toto laughs, his arm slipping around your waist as he pulls you closer to him. “We just try to keep up with the younger ones,” he teases, casting you a loving glance that sends a flutter through your heart.

Just as you’re about to reply, a well-dressed official from the FIA approaches, his expression politely urgent. “Excuse me, Mr. Wolff,” he interjects, “we need you for a moment to discuss the agenda for tonight’s ceremony.”

Toto nods, his eyes still locked on yours. “Of course,” he says. Then, without hesitation, he leans down and presses a tender kiss to your lips, lingering just a moment longer than necessary. When he pulls back, his thumb brushes lightly across your cheek. “I’ll be right back, mein Schatz.”

You watch him go, unable to tear your gaze away as he moves through the crowd with that characteristic grace. Even as he engages in a serious conversation with the FIA official, his eyes flick back to you every few moments, a silent promise in his gaze.

George chuckles, noticing the exchange. “You two,” he says, shaking his head in amusement. “Honestly, it’s like watching a romantic movie. You’re so obviously in love, it’s adorable.”

Carmen nods in agreement, her smile soft and genuine. “It’s true. The way you look at each other, it’s like nothing else matters. It’s really beautiful to see.”

You feel your cheeks warm, a shy smile playing on your lips. “Thank you,” you say softly. “I guess when you’ve found the right person, everything else just fades away.”

Carmen squeezes your arm affectionately. “We’re all lucky to have found that, aren’t we?”

Just then, you notice Toto making his way back to you, his conversation with the FIA official apparently finished. As he approaches, his eyes never leave yours, and you feel a magnetic pull drawing you to him.

“Sorry about that,” he murmurs when he reaches you, his arm immediately sliding around your waist again. “Didn’t mean to leave you for too long.”

You lean into him, feeling the warmth of his body against yours. “It’s alright. You’re here now.”

He smiles down at you, his expression soft and full of affection. “Always.”

George and Carmen exchange a knowing glance, their smiles widening. “And there it is again,” George laughs. “Completely head over heels.”

Toto just chuckles, his gaze still fixed on you. “Guilty as charged,” he admits, his voice low and playful. “But can you blame me?”

You laugh, your heart swelling with love for this man who has captured every part of you. “No, I can’t. Because I feel the same way.”

As the lights dim slightly, signaling that the ceremony is about to begin, Toto gently guides you to your seats. You settle in beside him, his hand finding yours once more under the table. As the host takes the stage and the room quiets down, you lean in close, whispering in his ear.

“I’m so glad we’re here together.”

He turns his head, his lips brushing your temple as he murmurs back, “So am I, mein Liebling. So am I.”

The ceremony starts, but all you can think about is how lucky you are to have him by your side, and how, in moments like this, the rest of the world seems to fade away.

[seospicybin]

TOO HOT TO HANDLE.

EXTRA HOT REUNION

Han x reader. (s)

Too Hot To Handle Masterlist.

Synopsis: You and Han are having a Too Hot To Handle reunion to catch up on the life after the retreat (7k words)

Author's note: Just a reason to use THEE Han Jisung pic hehehe

HOST: Welcome back to the Too Hot To Handle Extra Hot reunion episode. Now, on my virtual sofa is a pair who actually managed to keep their hands to themselves, well, most of the time. Before we meet them, let's have a look at their time in the villa!

[VIDEO PLAYS]

HOST: Here they are, everyone! The winner of Too Hot To Handle season 3! [Applauds]

YOU: [Squeals] Hi! HAN: [Waves hand]

HOST: First, congratulations on winning Too Hot To Handle. I literally jumped on my seat when you were announced winners. What have you done with the money?

HAN: I spoiled my family with the money and shortly, after the retreat, we also took a vacation to celebrate our win [grins]

HOST: How about you, my darling?

YOU: The same for me. I treated my mom to a shopping spree and went out with some friends.

HOST: Honestly guys, I was genuinely happy for you both when Han, you asked her to be your girlfriend.

HAN: I owe that one to her, actually.

YOU: No, really. The way you've done it was just perfect [smiles]

HAN: She thought I was joking though [chuckles]

YOU: Obviously, because we joked around a lot and we talked about things then suddenly he asked me to be his girlfriend so I was like what? And he was like 'I'm serious' and my eyes got teary a bit [laughs]

YOU: It was lovely [smiles]

HOST: I'm holding myself back from asking this question but I think we all want to know if you are still together.

HAN: [Laughs]

YOU: [Laughs] No, we're not.

HOST: [Frowns] How did it end? What happened? Talk to me, guys.

YOU: We got used to each other, we always had each other and were with each other every day during the retreat, and then suddenly, nothing at all.

HAN: Yeah.

YOU: It was just really hard but we stayed in contact. We still text each other every other day, FaceTime.

HAN: Yeah [Nods]

YOU: And we're still close, it's still us [Smiles]

HOST: Flabbergasted. Completely flabbergasted. It's almost like... you started as friends, developed and blossomed, got in a relationship and you guys went on a vacation together then... you guys become friends again?

HAN: Yeah [laughs]

YOU: [Laughs]

HOST: Is it completely dead though? Cause I still can see the chemistry there, I'm not going to lie. Han close your ears because I'm going to ask the girl first.

HAN: [Covers ears]

HOST: My darling, will you ever get back with Han

YOU: [Sheepishly smiles] I don't know. I haven't been dating in a long time so you never know what could happen.

HOST: Okay girl, now it's your turn to cover your ears.

YOU: Okay [covers ears]

HOST: Han, will you ever get back with her?HAN: Can't say anything [chuckles] because I haven't seen her in a while but who knows? [Shrugs]

HAN: But we shared such an incredible journey and we'll always be able to celebrate that so who knows, really.

HOST: Well, I think you guys are well-deserved winners.

HAN: Thank you!

HOST: Thank you so much for taking the time to talk to me.

YOU: Thank you. Bye [blows kisses]

HAN: [Waves hand]

-

A MONTH LATER

Maybe it is what it seems to be.

Han invited you to see him performing and that's all, you shouldn't be overthinking it. It's just a friendly gesture because that's what you are now, just a friend to him.

Why you dressed nicely is because you wanted to look good and why you're nervous is because you haven't seen him in a while, these are all reasonable.

You arrived at the bar where he's going to perform a few minutes late, not sure what to do first, get a drink or try to find him first?

Since you need a little liquor courage, you head to the bar to order a drink and on the way there, you walk past the way to the restroom and it gets you wondering if you should check for your appearance first.

There you go, you overthinking it again. You get a hold of yourself and go with your initial plan to get a drink first. The bartender is busy tending to the other customers so you have time to pick your concoction, rubbing your lips as you think hard over drinks.

After a while, the bartender finally comes to take your order and you haven't settled on a drink yet.

"I'd have uhm... a vodka soda," you settle on a drink.

"You only drink Cosmopolitan on a vacation, huh?" Someone says.

You turn on your feet to see that it's him, Han. He looks the same yet different at the same time, but you can't quite put a finger on what makes him different.

"You came!" He says with a bright smile.

"Like I wouldn't miss the chance to see you embarrass yourself on stage," you jokingly say, welcoming him for a hug.

He puts his arms around you and gives you a tight hug, along with a kiss on your cheek. He then slowly pulls away but keeps his hand resting on the small of your back.

"Your drink is here," he tells you.

"Thank you," you quickly mutter to the bartender.

As you take a sip of your drink, you notice that his hair is longer and somehow, it's making him cuter than he already is.

"Your hair," you point out.

He reaches for it and gives it a quick ruffle, "I permed it. Do you like it?"

It's endearing that he still asks for your opinion, you nod and say, "Yeah. I like it."

Then you have another look at him, paying attention to how he dressed tonight in blue jeans and a black shirt that loosely hangs on his broad shoulders, this ensemble with the permed hair gives him that edge. Also, reminds you of someone.

"Hate to tell you that you'll never be Asher," you joke to him.

"Ouch!" He gasps with his hand clutching his chest.

With his hand that still lingers on your back, he's pulling you to the side to avoid people passing by.

"I'll never be as cool as him," he meekly says.

You place your hand on his forearm and look at him, "And Asher will never be as cute as you," you say with a flirtatious eyebrow raise.

He drops his hand to catch yours in his and holds it, "Glad to know I'm still the cutest."

Cute guys are your weakness and Han with his gummy smile is going to send you to your death. Maybe you were right to overthinking it, maybe it's more than just an invitation to see him perform, maybe there's... something else.

"Two shots, please?" He orders to the bartender.

The bartender comes with the drinks right away, serving two shots on a small tray and slides it across the counter at Han.

"Double shots, huh?" You say as you notice his drinks.

"The other one is for you," he simply says, putting a glass into your hand.

"But I–I already have a drink," you stammer, quickly putting down your other drink on the counter.

"Oh, come on! You're not going to let me have a shot by myself," he grumbles, linking his arm around you by the elbow for a love shot.

You have no other option but to cave in, better get it over with before anyone in the bar notices what the two of you are doing.

"I hope you break a leg," you mutter as a toast.

"Figuratively," he adds with a grin.

Signaling each other through eyes, you both tilt your heads as you take the shots in one go and gasp from the bitter aftertaste almost at the same time.

"I needed that," Han says as he takes a sip of your drink to help wash it down.

Someone from the other side of the bar is calling for him and Han raises his hand to let him know that he heard him. He turns back at you and awkwardly smiles, "I have to go to do uh... soundcheck," he says.

"Yeah, you should go," you coyly say but you're reluctant to let his hand go.

He looks at you with glints in his eyes, reminding you of what the two of you had been and could have been if you stayed together after taking that vacation together.

"Uhm... I hope you endure the whole time I'm on that stage," he playfully says.

"Don't worry. I'll be booing loudly for you," you joke.

"I'll see you later, yeah?"

You nod with a smile on your face.

He pulls you close before finally letting go of your hand and turns away, heading toward the stage until he disappears behind the big curtain.

Knowing that the performance is about to start, the crowd moving toward the stage and leaving the stools around the counter unoccupied, you waste no time sitting on one.

"Am I late?" Someone says.

You thought you were hearing a stranger's conversation until you feel a hand on your shoulder and you turn your head to the side to see a familiar face.

"Oh, my God! Avery?" You gasp in surprise.

Avery's smile hasn't changed a bit, it's bright and warm, so welcoming. She doesn't hesitate to throw her arms around you and pulls you into an ecstatic hug.

Once you pull away from the hug, you immediately take a step back to take a good look at her and her appearance doesn't change much except that her hair is now in a shade of lighter blond.

"It's unfair that you're only getting more beautiful and here I am..." you sigh in sheer envy and a fake snide smile.

"No..." she hastily denies with her Australian accent and holds both of your hands in hers, "You look amazing!"

"Even if you're lying, I'd still believe you," you jokingly say.

"I'm being honest!" She assures you.

"Are you meeting someone in here or...?"

"Han didn't tell you I was coming? Oh, that guy," she sighs with an adorable pout.

For what other reason did she come here, unless it was coincidental, then it means Han invited her too. Your heart sank and you blame yourself for having your hopes up, there's nothing else here but a friendly gathering.

"How are you?" Avery asks.

"I'm great," you shortly reply, "What about you?"

You quickly put on a smile and answer all of her questions, asking the same thing back to catch up on things.

"Let's get you a drink, shall we?" you say since you also need a refill then you raise your hand to get the bartender's attention.

"Appletini, please?" She tells the bartender her drink order and then fixes her hair which is flowing down her back in soft waves.

Avery is effortlessly beautiful, the kind of girl who doesn't need to try hard to look that good, and the guy standing next to her who's been staring at her nonstop is proof of it.

"So where is the charming guy?" She asks, turning on her seat facing you.

You reckon what she means as the charming guy is Han and he'd be jumping in joy if he knew Avery called him a charming guy.

"He got called to the backstage. I think it's about to start any minute now," you answer.

Avery finally notices the guy who's been ogling at her and flashes him a smile, just enough to make him go berserk. She giggles in reaction and turns her attention back to you.

"Watches the reunion show and bummed to know that you guys broke up," Avery says.

A moment later, she suddenly grabs your elbow, "Please tell me that you guys played a prank on us and still secretly dating each other!"

You awkwardly chuckle and mindlessly stir your drink with your straw, "Trust me, if we were still dating, I wouldn't let him invite you tonight," you half-jokingly say.

Avery almost chokes on her drink hearing that, she gently wipes her mouth with a napkin and tries not to ruin her glossy lips. She opens her mouth to say something but someone checks the mic on the stage, causing a high-pitched feedback that echoes in the room.

Not long after the MC introduces the list of performers for tonight, Han finally enters the spotlight and slings his guitar strap around him, he says a few things to everyone in the room before starts playing his guitar.

Before this, you've only seen him performing through videos so that makes this the first time you watch him live and it's a whole different experience. You get to hear him sing, hear every strum of his guitar and if you ignore the other people in the room, you're also sharing this moment with him.

Another thing that makes it different is the subtle eye contact he's making at you and there is a chance that he may be looking at someone else, but delusional or not, you get that fluttering feeling.

It's the way he's immersed himself in his singing, the way he stands so nonchalantly yet oozing with charisma, the way he engages with everyone in the room, the way his hand grips the neck of the guitar that reminds you—

Before your mind wanders too far off, you take a big gulp of your drink and you wince at how the alcohol burns the back of your throat.

"Oh, my God! He's so cool," Avery says with her vivacious smile.

You almost forgot her presence and the fact that she's the girl Han initially crushed on, and probably still crushing on. It won't be a surprise if that's also the reason why he invited her.

"Yeah, he's cool," you say back and take another gulp of your drink.

You hate to hate Avery because she doesn't deserve the hate in the first place so you try not to let your negative thoughts get in the way of your friendship, especially over a boy.

In the last song, Han plays one of his songs that you know by heart. You sing along to his singing and notice that Avery is also doing the same, you put your arm around her to sing it out loud together against the loud crowd in the bar.

-

The crowd scatters around as they wait for the next performer while you stay where you are with Avery, waiting for Han with another round of drinks. As you laugh over Avery's joke, he finally appears in your line of sight, sucking on a bottle of water.

Avery turns around on her stool to see him and immediately jumps down to give him a hug, "That was incredible, Han!"

"Thank you!" Han awkwardly says, a little surprised by her hug.

You've been with Han long enough to know what the big grin on his face means and it means he doesn't mind any of that.

"And what do you think?" He asks you.

"That was really great!" You genuinely compliment him with a smile.

He brightly smiles and then brushes his damp hair to the back, exposing the sheen of sweat covering his forehead. You hurriedly take a napkin from the bartender's counter but Avery gets ahead of you.

All of sudden, Avery links her arm with Han then links her other arm with yours which forces you to get off your stool.

"You know what, guys? Drinks on me tonight," she says with a sly smile on her face.

"Are we celebrating something?" You curiously ask.

She looks at you with a pout, "I'm just so happy to see you guys," she simply answers.

You feel bad for asking and feel bad for letting her treat you when you should be the one treating her, you won the prize money after all.

"And I want to get you two drunk," she adds with a devilish laugh.

"That's a great idea! I'm in," Han agrees but he's looking at you as if he seeks your approval.

Eventually, the two team up and begin making puppy eyes at you, making it hard for you to say no to them. You don't like getting drunk, it's the queasy feeling, the headache, the getting home, and the hangover. However, there's always an exception and tonight is one of them.

You lowly sigh because you'll regret it tomorrow, then say, "I say let's get wasted."

-

Avery takes you to a different bar a few blocks away from the previous one and her friend already has a table reserved for all of you. Apparently, this bar is quite popular and that explains why it's so crowded, and you hate being in a crowded place like this.

Thankfully, the table is on the quieter side of the bar. You take your jacket off before sitting on the sofa that faces each other with an elegant-looking glass table in the middle and it seems like Han is about to sit next to you but Avery's friend claimed it first.

"I'm Lucky," he introduces himself to you right away.

"Oh, are you?" You teasingly say with a sly grin.

Lucky laughs and does it attractively with eyes full of crinkles, "Well, I met you so I guess I am," he teases you back.

The whole time, Avery leads the conversation and always tries to get you involved in it. Then it hits you why guys like her, not only she's beautiful, but she knows how to keep people engaged either with eye contact or a slight touch, and she just knows how to keep things fun for everyone, those are things that can't be taught, she was born with it.

"My friend here is cute, isn't she?" Avery asks her guy friend.

Lucky looks at you while you're sipping your drink and the ice cubes hit your lips. You force on a smile as you wipe your cold and wet lips.

"An absolute lush to be honest," he says with a seductive smile.

And you can say the same thing about Lucky, he's tall, with dirty blond hair and tattooed hands, and he also has those stunning light blue eyes. Maybe it's the alcohol that makes you feel like teasing him back.

"You're not so bad yourself," you jokingly say.

Avery laughs in amusement, enjoying the exchange between you and him. She refills everyone's glasses with more drinks while talking at the same time.

"The best part is she's single," Avery says.

Your eyes somehow dart to Han and you find his eyes are on you too, for a second, you both stare at each other until Lucky slowly leans in, getting Han out of your sight.

"Are you ready to mingle though?" He asks with a half-smirk that looks good on his angular face.

You prop a hand under your chin and pretend to think for a moment, then slowly turn your head his way to say, "Why don't you find out?"

The next thing you know, you're on the floor dancing with him and you don't even anxious about being in the crowd because you're busy enjoying yourself. However, constantly moving your body in not so much space gets you hot, you can feel a sheen of sweat forming on your back as you keep dancing.

"I need to go to the restroom," you whisper right into Lucky's ear as it is the only way he can hear you against the blaring music.

Following the sign, you push through the sea of people and head to the hallway that leads to the restroom. You take a moment to cool down, fixing your hair and tapping the back of your sweaty neck with cold water.

You take another look at yourself in the mirror before going out of the door. On the way back to the floor you catch Avery in the corner with someone, well, it doesn't make sense if anyone is not attracted to her until you identify that someone and it's Han.

They're standing facing each other and leaning in close whenever they talk, Avery laughs a few times while Han is continuously talking into her ear.

Knowing their history, it shouldn't surprise you that Han is probably still crushing on her. Again, Avery is undeniably attractive and you're just... you, so you understand that getting over his crush is not easy.

You shouldn't take this personally because he is not in a relationship with you. However, you've been getting this sinking feeling in your chest every time you see them together and it intensifies when you're watching them talking so close to each other.

Before either of them notices you, you make a turn to your booth and immediately collect your jacket and bag, you finish your glass of drink quickly and wince as it burns your throat.

"Hey, I've been looking for you," Lucky says.

You wipe your wet upper lip from drinking and force on a smile, "You know what, I just realized I have this... uh thing to do tonight," you made up something on the spot.

Lucky lets out an awkward chuckle, "All of a sudden?"

You put your jacket on first before answering, "Yeah, I... I have to go," you stammer.

"Like right now?" He asks with a perplexed expression.

"Yes," you hastily reply, grabbing the strap of your bag as you walk away.

You don't even know why you're in such a hurry that you forget your manner, you abruptly stop walking and turn around.

"It was nice meeting you, Lucky," you say with a smile.

You manage to not bump into Avery or Han on your way out, it's better that way. You plan on sending a text to Avery explaining your disappearance once you get on a taxi home.

You aggressively wave your hand to hail a taxi, wanting to get on one soon before any of them catch you leaving without saying anything.

Not long after, a taxi stops on the side of the road and you waste not another second to get into the backseat. As you're about to close the door, someone rushes in and sits next to you.

You roll your eyes once you realize who it is, "Why are you here?"

Han reclines on his seat and massages the bridge of his nose, "I think I'm drunk," he meekly answers.

First thing first, no drunk person is aware that they're drunk which means he's lying. You scoff as he keeps pretending to be drunk.

"Where to?" The taxi driver asks.

Since he's already inside the taxi, you can't force him to get off or even have the heart to push him out of the door so you decide to let it slide, then tell the driver where to go.

The whole taxi ride, you keep your arms crossed in front of you and look out of the window as the taxi glides through the city streets.

When you arrive, you hand the fare to the driver and get out of the taxi, all the while you're acting like Han isn't there. It doesn't take long for him to follow you out of the taxi and chase after you as you enter your apartment building.

"Why did you leave me?" He asks as he trails behind you.

"Obviously, you're not drunk and you can take care of yourself," you answer, starting to climb the stairs to get to the fourth floor.

"Why are you mad when you were the one leaving without telling me?" He asks again, also climbing the stairs two steps behind you.

"I have other things to do," you simply answer even though the other things you have to do are get home and sleep.

"You're lying," he says with a sigh.

"And you lied about being drunk too," you coyly say back.

That seems to shut him up for good but hearing the silence in reply makes you uneasy, you look over your shoulder to see him standing in the middle of the stairs looking up at you.

"I'm sorry I lied," he sincerely says.

That face... looking at that face makes you the slightest bit melting inside but you remain firm even though you're not sure with the reason why you're mad at him.

"Just go home," you tell him and continue walking up the last flight of stairs to your floor.

You start rummaging through your bag, searching for your keys inside as you walk to the door and are aware that Han is still following you.

"Can we talk?" He meekly asks.

"About what?"

"About everything," he answers.

"Well, I don't think we have the time to talk about everything," you detect the jingling sound of your keys and search for it with your hand without looking.

"About us?" He asks.

You let out a chuckle at that, "There's no 'us' to begin with."

After a minute of searching in the abyss that is your bag, you manage to successfully get it out and unlock the door to your apartment.

"Why are you like this?" He asks, his eyes wistfully looking at you.

To be honest, you have no idea either. You were so excited for tonight yet somehow, your mood significantly changed at the end of the night.

"All I wanted is to talk to you. Actually, that's what I've been trying to do the whole night."

You take your keys back and hold them, turning on your feet to face him, "If you wanted to talk to me, then why you brought someone else?"

This is your first mistake tonight, letting him know that you're upset about him inviting Avery. In your defense, you wouldn't be like this if he told you beforehand that his ultimate crush would be there too.

"So that's what this about? Avery?" He says with a sigh.

Han catches you clam up so there's no way of denying it, you turn the knob and push the door open, he stands in the doorway to keep you from closing it.

"I indeed invited her but it wasn't because I still like her or whatever it is you thought," he tells you.

You give him the chance to explain himself and stare at him, this way you can tell whether he's lying or telling the truth.

"And why is that?"

Han sighs, he then roughly brushes his permed hair, making it messier than before and you hate that he looks this good when you're mad at him.

"She was supposed to help me talk to you about something. But instead, she introduced you to this lucky guy," he says with a spiteful tone.

"Help you with what?" You curiously ask and urge him to answer by intensely glaring at him.

He bites his lower lip and sighs again, "Getting back together with you."

Everything you knew is far different from the reality of it and you almost let out a laugh at this newly acquired information. The whole thing is endearing yet annoying at the same time, you can't decide how to react to it

"Instead of doing that, she sets you up with Lucky," he cutely grumbles with his small mouth almost forming a pout.

"So you're jealous?" You coyly ask.

"Isn't it obvious?" He shortly answers with his mouth curling into a snarl.

He leans the side of his body against the doorway and looks at you, "So are you."

"What?" You defensively ask.

"You're jealous of Avery," he replies with a grin.

"No, I'm not," you deny with your foot slowly taking a step to the back.

"You lied again," he says with a pout.

"I'm not," you deny again while nervously chuckling.

Han boldly takes a step inside and closes the door behind him, he then stands with his back resting against the door just looking at you.

There's no one else in the room except you and him, it'd be less embarrassing to tell the truth. You swallow air and slowly exhale.

"Yeah, okay, I'm jealous," you finally admit.

A smile rises on his face and it grows wider as he comes closer. He only stops with a few inches of space between your bodies, then he leans in to softly whisper, "I know."

In reaction, you turn your head his way only to allow him to easily crash his lips against yours. He puts his arms around you as he deepens the kiss, a kiss that makes you dizzy and almost lose your footing.

You would be lying if you didn't miss his kiss, as a matter of fact, you do, you terribly do.

"Guess Lucky isn't that lucky tonight," he pulls away from the kiss only to say that with a shit-eating grin on his face.

As he's about to kiss you again, you dodge away and lightly chuckle.

"And you think you're lucky?" You teasingly ask, then gently push him away.

He hurriedly pulls you closer and tightens his hold around you, "I am."

You shake your head in disagreement, "I don't think so."

He hastily kisses your open mouth and then presses his mouth close to your ear, "You're about to get lucky too."

Without warning, he lifts you off the ground and steers your body toward the bedroom all the while both of your lips are locked in a rapturous kiss.

-

Han is too impatient. He doesn't even bother to take your dress off first, his hand goes under and pushes the hem up, making the dress hunches around your waist.

You let out a sharp gasp the second his hot mouth makes contact with your sex and out of reflex, your legs are clamping his head in between.

Thankfully, his arms are steadily keeping your legs open as his greedy mouth alternates between licking and sucking on your cunt, and a moment later, combining it with his two fingers pumping in and out of you.

It doesn't take long for him to sync those stimulations together to give you the utmost pleasure. If there's anything different about him from the last time you met him is how he's getting better at giving you head, he gets you squirming and moaning non-stop.

"Oh, my— Oh!" you loudly moan against the silence in the room.

Your hands are constantly crumpling the sheet underneath you with your back arched and your waist lifted off the bed.

Han abruptly stops and lifts his head to look at you, "What is it? I can't hear you with your legs around my head," he innocently asks with his mouth glistening wet with your essence.

"Just keep going," you breathlessly say, pushing his head down between your legs again.

He obeys your words, tirelessly pleasing you with his mouth and taking you closer and closer to your release while you're tugging at his hair harder as the pleasure intensifies in each passing second.

When you finally reach your high, you accidentally shut your legs together with his head caught in between. He slowly parts your legs open but keeps them around him, watching you riding down from your high while softly kissing your inner thighs.

After a while, he comes up and hovers above you. You eagerly pull him down, letting him lay himself on top of you. You can taste yourself on him as you kiss him, on his lips, his tongue, and around his mouth.

While your lips are busy lathering his, your hands are roughly pulling at his t-shirt, helplessly trying to get it off of him. He reluctantly lets go of the kiss to do that for you and you shift your focus on unbuckling his belt next.

It's your turn to be impatient, shoving your hand inside his boxer the second you successfully unzip his fly open. You palm his semi-hard cock and slowly stroking it in your hand.

"Gosh, I miss you so much," he breathlessly says.

You open your mouth to speak only for him to tug your lower lip between his teeth and playfully pull at it, making you forget what you're about to say to him.

As a way to get back to him, you surprise him by turning him over and straddling him, having him under you as you stare down at his face.

He's just as beautiful as the last time you saw him, your index finger touches the tiny mole on his fluffy cheek. His honey skin is still as warm as you remember, soft and searing to the touch. You swipe your thumb across his lips before leaning in to kiss him.

"Mmh... baby?" he hums against your lips with his hands cupping your ass and kneading on it.

"Yeah?" You breathlessly ask with your lips lingering on his.

"Help me take off your dress," he whispers.

You lowly chuckle and sit straddling him, taking the hem of your dress to take it off, pulling it over your head, then tossing it away.

The bewilderment is apparent on his face as he looks at your body with wide, lustful eyes and he slides his hands up the side of your body, eagerly waiting for you to take off your bra next.

"Mmh, yeah, get those tits out for me," he playfully says with a sly grin on his face.

His body is shaking along with yours as you laugh at his words while he enjoys touching you, running his knuckles down your front.

There's no denying that you miss his touch so much and how you crumble under the faintest of his touch on you, moreover, how it makes you want him more.

You land a long kiss on his lips and smile at him when you let go, "I'm going to get us a condom."

"Good idea!" He says along with a quick peck on your lips.

You get off him, rolling to the side of the bed, and pull open the drawer on the bedside table, rummaging through the contents to get a condom.

Han is kicking his jeans off the bed when you crawl back to his side while holding the condom in your hand, you put your leg over his as you get comfortable lying next to him.

He turns his head to be greeted by your gaze and tenderly puts his hand on your neck, he then leans in with his mouth open and slightly curling into a smile.

His hand brushes your hair to the side before resting his hand on your neck and instead of going straight for a kiss, he rubs his lips against yours and you can feel his breath on you, hot and raging with desire.

"Oh..." he lowly moans as you gently suck on his lower lip.

He flashes you a wicked grin before licking your lips then crashes them against yours again, slowly yet deeply. You are intimately making out with him as your hand goes down his front, not stopping until your hand meets his engorging member.

Using your index finger, you gently circle the tip of his cock and at times, alternate it with a few strokes on his full length, making it harder and hotter in your hand.

When you deem that both of you are hot and ready enough for it, you tear open the foil packet, then carefully take the rubber out.

You concentrate on putting it correctly, pinching the tip of the condom then slowly unroll the rubber down his length. He intently watches as you meticulously put it on for him and delightfully sighs once you're done.

"Wonderful work!" He playfully comments, pulling you close to him again, "You are welcomed to put it on me for the rest of my life."

You hold his chin and snidely laugh, "You wish!"

Unamused with your remark, he tightens his hold around you and uses his strength to flip you over to have you under him this time.

He plants his lips on you again and kisses you slower with his hand gently kneading on your breast, fingers circling on your hardening bud.

Your body is responsive to every stimulation he's doing to you, your legs are spreading open and you keep seeking that closeness.

The tension hits high as he settles himself between your legs, placing one hand on your thigh and the other aiming his cock at your entrance. He teases you by rubbing his cock on your clit, making you more drenched than you already are.

When he finally enters you, you let out a long moan at how hard and how good it feels to be slowly filled by him.

"I still have more, baby," he murmurs at you with a caress on your cheek.

Han props both hands on each side of you and looks down at you, he's using his hips to push the remaining length inside you while leisurely watching for your reaction, eyes fluttering shut overwhelmed with pleasure.

"Too good," his lips grazing yours as he speaks, "You always feel too good."

When you open your eyes, you can see one corner of his mouth curls into a cocky smirk and you so badly want to take it off his face so you pull him into a kiss.

He starts thrusting slowly, setting a steady pace as he continuously lathers his lips on yours, making you gasp for air in between kisses and moaning against his lips.

The sex feels different because it's not always about the sex itself but who you're doing it with. With Han, you're less insecure about yourself, you don't have to worry about your body and how it looks to him. With him, you can fully enjoy the intimacy between you and him, and also with yourself.

Noticing that you're getting close to your release, he hastily kisses you and says, "Cum together, yeah?"

Unable to answer verbally, you repeatedly nod at him in response.

He keeps the same pace but does it intensely as he's close to his release as well, your lips lingering against each other but both of your eyes are closed and he's groping around for your hand, holding it tightly as he fastens the pace.

When you finally come to your release, he keeps thrusting to ride out his high and then collapsing on top of you. With his eyes half shut, his hand dearly holds the side of your face and slowly puts his lips on you.

The kiss feels a lot gentler, almost like he's kissing a fragile object and you like that. You return his kiss even though you're still coming down from your high, panting in between kisses.

In the midst of it, you get hit by a realization and you immediately push him away, breaking the kiss. You let your head fall onto the pillow and lowly curse, "Fuck..."

"What's wrong?" He asks, slightly concerned.

You let out another groan and roughly brush your hair to the back, "I was planning to make you wait for, at least, a week for that."

He laughs in satisfaction and makes you put your hands around his shoulders again, "You can't help it because I'm cute," he confidently remarks.

You turn away and sigh, "You're not that cute."

Han places slobbering kisses on your neck and face in protest to that, making you laugh under him.

"This is exactly my plan to get you back," he tells you.

"And it's not working," you jokingly say.

He props his elbow against the mattress to not put his whole weight on you, "You have to admit that there's no reason for us to not get back together," he tells you.

It's true, you still have feelings for him and so is he, he wants you back as much as you want him back. You both want to get back together so what's holding you back?

He props his head with his hand and pulls the duvet to cover both of your bodies, "Honestly, I've been wondering why we broke up in the first place," he suddenly admits.

You look at him and see the turn of expression on his face, "We weren't ready," you answer.

"I was ready and I still am," he shortly denies, his eyes are open and wide, full of conviction.

You rest your hand on his neck and play with the hair on the nape of his neck, "It was me. I wasn't ready."

There's another change of expression on his face, his eyes downturn and looking sad, "Why?"

You awkwardly shrug and sigh, "I don't want to get hurt," you sadly admit.

His eyes wistfully look at you and his hand tenderly holds the side of your face, "I'm not going to hurt you, baby."

"I know," you respond.

"I like you too much to do that," he assures you with those eyes that shine for you.

The way he convinces you is endearing, you can't help but smile at his words. You don't even know why you think he's capable of hurting you when he's adorable like this.

"As a matter of fact, I love you," he blurts out.

Your heart aches in so many ways hearing those words from him, you smile and cup his cheek in your hand.

"And that's why I'm scared because I love you too," you say those words back to him with all of your heart and with worries that looming around it.

He softly kisses your lips and leans in so close his nose is poking at your cheek, "But we have each other remember?"

It's unfair how easily he can make you fall in love with him again, as easy as taking a breath but that's just the power he has over you, it's taking over you.

"You're right," you agree with him.

He triumphantly smiles and places a chaste kiss on your lips, long and lingering, making your heart ache than before as he holds it in his hand.

"We have each other," he murmurs once he pulls away from the kiss.

And you realize that you have his heart in your hand too so you smile and murmur the words back at him.

"We have each other."

-

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[cipheramnesia]

This is the process my brain goes through every time I see anything about Netflix Avatar The Last Airbender.

My first reaction is always: Why? The original, although not without flaws, doesn't leave a lot of room to improve. A good remake or adaptation usually involves an updated context or change in perspective that adds to the original work and gives it new meaning. It's a risky undertaking because it usually involves wanting to take on something established as iconic and make it your own. But Netflix is a corporation and seems very risk averse for the most part. Its only investment is in the name recognition of AtLA. It's hard to visualize Netflix deliberately taking a big risk on an expensive show.

My second reaction is: How? The original series is about 1400 minutes over 61 episodes, and it still had to rush the ending. We're looking at 8 episodes of roughly 45-60 minutes per episode for season 1, which would require Netflix to let it run more than 3 seasons, if the series has similar pacing. Historically however Netflix shows have glacial pacing, and rarely make three seasons. Not really sure how they plan to tell the story if the series is anything like the average Netflix series, meaning it either needs to undercut the story or let the series breathe for at least five seasons. But nothing Netflix has done makes me want to watch anything they make as an ongoing series? Why bother, they cancel everything I enjoy. So I wonder how. What's the hook to say "this will be able to provide something new and interesting compared to the original, and will be allowed to tell the complete story."

Which leads me to think, but you can't judge if something is good without seeing it. Except none of this is about whether it's good, I just find myself wondering what are the odds it's worth the effort? They're low, and it has nothing to do with whether or not it's even any good on its own merits.

Following this, I ask myself, what would a good version of this be. Imagine you are making a live action series with eight hour long episodes per season based on a children's cartoon with 20 thirty minute episodes per season. You are trying to encompass a story which was presented over three seasons as a cartoon, and you do not know if you will have more than those eight episodes. It's made for Netflix which, in terms of a company which will protect the hard earned fruits of your artistic labor, is the fox guarding the henhouse. What do you do?

If you are looking to make something good, that respects your audience investment and your own work, you make radical changes to the story. You change the pacing, the character arcs, the plot arcs. You make sure you deliver a complete story in those episodes with as much respect for the original work and as many new ideas as you can.

Except, at that point, what is even the point of a remake. The only way to work with it is either to trust Netflix allowing you to finish the story (which you'd need to be incredibly naive to do), or tell a story so different it may as well be wholly original. And that's where I always end up. Like, it'll probably be fine, but what's the point of it all? Another vanishing digital property to get canceled because of some undefinable failure to return on investment.

I think about it a lot because the two ends of the spectrum seem to be "dunk on every new piece of information" or "wait and see" but the only conclusion I can ever reach is "why even care?" That's been the lesson to take home from digital streaming in general when it comes to series, but Netflix in particular, and honestly for movie series too. If it can't be self contained, the companies who produce and release these kinds of series just cannot be trusted with it, and there are too many good original stories being put out to care anymore about big budget promises that one day they will definitely for sure deliver a finished story, this time for real.

I care enough to think about why I don't feel anything at all about Netflix Avatar. It'll be fine, whatever else. Just fine.

[ladykatibeth]

I think some of the surprise there is for Izzy’s season 2 behavior is that a lot of the the fandom (even some Izzy fans) decided to base Izzy’s characterization entirely off of episode 9 and 10 (where he was honestly also probably having a bit a of a breakdown) when he’s at his most lowest and ignoring anything before that.

So while everyone’s here, (welcome new friends!) I’ll address something’s people have been surprised by, or have said is a new development.

1. “Talking it through”….Izzy is a very open character—Wait, here me out.

He is unintentionally very expressive. If you look at his expression it flits through emotions. He’s a pretty bad liar. His feelings are very on display, and he has a lot of them.

In terms of talking, he literally chases Ed around the ship trying to start a conversation about the plan. He explains exactly why he’s upset in episode 4. He’s also mean about it because he’s angry and he’s mean when he’s angry.

(Well I’d argue he’s anxious and he’s angry when he’s anxious and he’s mean when he’s angry)

This is one phrase we never see him disagree with in the first season, but I would argue he doesn’t fully endorse it.

Specifically “as a crew.” He doesn’t like showing vulnerability….in front of people. Intimate conversations are usually private. He’s the least posturing when he’s doing 1 on 1 conversations, for an infrequently used example, look at him ranting to Spanish Jackie like a friend on the phone before the navy people come in—and then he shifts. He will talk to people about feelings—in private.

2.Speaking of episode 4—Izzy’s care for the crew.

Izzy didn’t see the Revenge Crew as his crew up until his being named captain (neither did Ed, the co-captain conversation doesn’t occur until after Izzy’s been banished). He does express care for the QA crew having been lost in his resignation rant.

They are “the crew of the Revenge.” He’s not perfect though, he does risk Ivan and Fang in the navy deal, but given the fact he’s never done this before I assume most of this previous crew behavior is more in line with the first example than the second. He’s not nice, but he at least cares about about them staying alive.

3. Izzy apologizing/taking accountability.

I think the main thing here is people taking Izzy at his most pissed 100% at his word.

In episode 4 we see Izzy do his resignation rant—and he regrets it by the end. He takes back what he said and apologizes for it. Just because Izzy says something when pissed doesn’t mean those are his day to day feelings.

In episode 6 Izzy says Ed will rue this day—and then makes sure specifically to get him out of the way so he isn’t harmed. He expresses concern over Stede doing something to Ed’s brain, not anger at him.

Izzy isn’t incapable of reflection, his pattern is he gets angry says something, reflects when calmer and then either regrets or changes his mind.

So he’s like weeks of (relatively) calmer time to reflect and realize he played a part, Izzy is incredibly impulsive when mad but our impulses aren’t always our regular logical feelings.

(Also why I don’t like when people completely take his Ep 10 rant as his whole entire world view, he’s pissed and scared and saying hurtful things on purpose, that’s not the summation of him.)

[wrongcaitlyn]

okay fuck so i got an anon ask for solangelo fic recs and then i made a draft on my phone but then deleted it bc i wanted to type it out on my computer but then that deleted the ask too so!! hopefully this reaches the anon i apologize deeply for losing your ask😭

but anyway. SOLANGELO FIC RECS. ALWAYS. ANYTIME. I HAVE SO MANY

so first of all if you wanna check out my ao3 i have a bunch of recs in my bookmarks (57 solangelo ones im pretty sure)

but here are some of my favs

i'm put in awe (of something so flawed and free) by CordeliaRose (@cordelia---rose)

archaeologist!Nico & trauma surgeon!Will AU. this fic is. ohmgyod. nico's internal dialogue is just absolutely perfect in this fic and i laughed so hard and god it was just so beautifully written?? but also solangelo are literally so cute. like. ahglskdf. i gotta reread this actually but anyway (also anything by this author, absolutely hilarious, such good writing)

dumb, dumb love by thegoldenappleofdiscord

five times nico and will are dumb and in love, and the one time they are totally 100% dead serious. i love a good outsider's pov, and this fic is just gorgeous. it's a bunch of different perspectives into solangelo, and it's pure fluff, and it's got some of my favorite solangelo quotes (like, when i read fanfic i screenshot parts i rlly like and i practically screenshotted this entire fic), and their characterization is just so so accurate they're so so in love

paris by ethannku (@ethannku)

Nico has a travel YouTube channel. And a crush on one Will Solace. i'm such a sucker for socmed au's and this one is done SO so well. my all time favorite. and it's sequel too!! the formatting i am in awe of, but other than that, it's just a really good time and i just love all the little details. i've reread this too many times to count and was SO excited when a sequel was published, and i can only hope that there's more to the au in the future!! (also this author writes incredible solangelo fics and even more valgrace fics which i recently just bingeread and are soo good)

Perfect Places by buoyantsaturn (@buoyantsaturn)

“My name’s Will,” he started - so far so good - but then continued, “and I guess my favorite food to cook would be, um, frozen pizza.” Was Nico only attracted to idiots? this one's fucking hilarious. i can't even put it to words like their dynamic in this fic is so funny and yet so cute and nico is honestly just like. shocked that will is somehow still alive?? will's a safety hazard. but also piper and jason in this fic are so funny too, it's honestly just such a good, fun read (and, once again, this author's incredible. read everything by them)

I Can't Help It If You Look Like an Angel by the_oncoming_stormaggedon (@lordstormageddidnt)

Will Solace is a pre-med student whose friends run a true crime podcast called "Nothing to See Here". Nico di Angelo, despite not realizing he's a missing person, is the subject of one of the episodes. They meet by chance in a random bar, and shenanigans ensue. i mean, if it's got a taylor swift title, i'm already sold. and then it's part of a series called "Hey Stephen is a solangelo song and i will die on that hill" which is the realest thing ever?? but ASIDE from that, i could honestly rec this entire series (+ the other series it's a part of, "Nothing to See Here" which is all part of the same au) and also everything by this author - it's hilarious, i just love the premise, and the writing is so good!! and hey stephen is a solangelo song, thereby reinforcing my "fearless is will's favorite album ever of all time and i will die on this hill" argument

Even When the Music's Gone by the_oncoming_stormaggedon

It's the 74th Annual Hunger Games, and Nico and Will are the last two tributes alive. haha this is pure angst. just gutwrenching angst. love a good hunger games au and some MCD!

can i handle the seasons of my life? by buoyantsaturn

“I think that most people your age finished high school, and whether they knew what they wanted to do with the rest of their life or not, they went to college. That was their version of ditching everything they knew in order to find themselves. Maybe it’s time for you to stop taking advice from other kids who grew up the same way you did, and take it from someone who used to be normal.”  FAME AU FAME AU FAME AU FAME AU i mean, not REALLY about the fame aspect of it, but i still love it so so much. will's essentially a nepo baby turned not-nepo-baby turned college student and nico's naomi's driver, and there's even... there's EVEN A VERY BRIEFLY IMPLIED POLLEN. yeah they're relationship is just so cute in this and i love the au and i love how it's written and ugh i need more fame au's in my life

so it turns out teachers don't live at school by RegretfullyRegretful (@marbleheavy)

Nico's TA and students are determined to figure out something, anything about him. Of course, it would all just be a lot easier if they asked. Either way, Professor di Angelo is decidedly a lonely hermit. (Someone should really tell his husband and baby that) this was one of the first solangelo fics i ever read, and it's just. so. funny. another outsider's pov bc i love it, and just... the assumptions abt nico, the fluff of solangelo, and then their story of how they got together is so...ahhsdlkjs this author is just a master at tooth-rotting fluff go read everything they write

my lover's the sunlight by demigodbeautiies

Figure Skater Nico di Angelo has a run in with Ice Hockey Player Will Solace. It doesn't go too smoothly, but then again - when does it ever? OLYMPICS AU. FAME(ISH) AU. IM OBSESSED THIS IS WRITTEN SO WELL and like... the very brief part where it feels a lot like a fame au like i just i'm obsessed can you tell. the writing is just beautiful in this, i love nico's internal dialogue, and... i mean, it's an olympics au. ofc its perfect

The Stolen God by TsarinaTorment (@tsarinatorment)

Python is defeated. The prophecies are restored, and Nero has fallen. Apollo has not been seen since. His trials are over; why isn’t he back on Olympus? okay so. this is a bit of a longer fic. and it's a post-toa, pjoxmcga crossover, and it's not *entirely* focused on solangelo - but when i tell you that this fic, if i weren't reading it on ao3, i would truly and full-heartedly believe was a real life published novel - i am NOT LYING. i rec'd this to my friend right after i read it bc i was just like so so obsessed with it and it's literally just. the plot?? is insane. i'm in awe of the author, bc this isn't even the only novel-length fic that they've written with an insane plot too (their fic Eclipse is also phenomenal, but it's more focused on apollo and hades so i didn't rec it here) there's some fierrochase here, lester being lester, and some very very very cute solangelo! and meg! i think sometimes you read a fic and you're like "oh, shit, that could be a novel, and i would think it's better than some actual novels i've read" and this is one of them

(Please Don't Let Me) Fade Alone by TsarinaTorment

Please. Don't let me. the summary's really short here so it's basically that will gets very very very injured and then apollo saves him (rip, i'm sorry, i suck at summaries) once again this isn't necessarily nico focused... it's much more will & apollo. this author writes the absolute best stuff for the apollo cabin, genuinely, if you love will/cabin 7/apollo PLEASE read everything they've ever written but this is just so angsty and the hurt/comfort is so real and goddd it's so good

he was seen on occasion (pacing the rocks, staring out at the midnight sea) by stargirltv

Nico di Angelo is a completely normal eighteen year old. He attends high school, has a socially acceptable amount of friends for a social outcast and has been in a relationship for the past four years with the guy he’s pretty sure he’s going to marry. He also happens to be the world's biggest bedroom pop artist, ‘Hell’s Angel’, with a fan base that will stop at nothing to uncover his true identity and a Father that continually pushes him to be better. His boyfriend freaking out under every single one of his tweets is making it a bit easier for them to figure it out. so. fame au. y'all already know the premise of this is just absolutely hilarious and the interview?? the posts?? will just being will and i absolutely love his characterization?? and the friend group?? this is one of the funniest things ever but also just written so well anddddd yes yes yes it's a fame au POPSTAR NICO RIGHTS except he's not *really* a popstar in this one but like close enough oh AND it's a taylor swift title??? like this fic was made for me basically

okay that was MUCH longer than intended but i hope you enjoy some of the fics on here!! pls let me know if y'all ever want more recs i read literally so many fics - and if you guys ever want to give me any recs, feel free to do so! as of today, i have read *checks fic tracker bc i'm obsessive and need to keep track of everything* about 7.3 million words of fanfic this year. and that's actually less than normal (for me)

also if anyone reads patrochilles please read this fic it's literally been in my head nonstop for the past few weeks since i've read it and it's one of the best things i've ever read and like holyshit if you read patrochilles read it read it read it

[jillianallen14]

Incredibly proud of Crowley and how strong/brave he is in the finale

This is gonna be really long, so if you’re in a rush, here’s a TLDR: Crowley is hella brave for confessing to Aziraphale even after Aziraphale spoke first, especially given Aziraphale’s track record of rejecting him, and I’m so proud of him. I’m also proud of him for standing his ground and not giving in because he usually always does whatever Aziraphale asks eventually. Crowley needs to learn to truly stand on his own two feet in order to have a successful relationship with Aziraphale, and Aziraphale needs to learn how to choose/put Crowley first just as much as Crowley chooses him and puts him first. Basically, in human terms, Crowley currently has an anxious attachment style and Aziraphale has an avoidant one, and they both need to get to healthy attachment styles in order for them to work.   

See how long that tldr was? That’s what you’re in for if you read this whole thing lol. 

Alright, here we go. 

Disclaimer: I love Aziraphale so much, but I think he has a lot of work to do before he’s ready to “deserve” the kind of love Crowley is offering him. I also think he is 100% going to put in that work, though. 

So Crowley’s tried to advance things forward with Aziraphale many times over their thousands of years together, and usually these advances are rejected, though sometimes Aziraphale does come around. He’s the one who suggests the Arrangement (and sort of gets rejected at first). He’s the one who is constantly pushing the idea that the two of them are on their own team. He makes grand gestures, rescues Aziraphale, and he makes a lot of sacrifices. In the 1960′s, he tells Aziraphale that he’ll take him anywhere he wants to go, just to be told, “You go too fast for me, Crowley.” I sort of count this as “run away together” offer #1 because I think that’s what Crowley is subtextually offering here. His second offer of running away together is also rejected during the almost-apocalypse. He suggests Aziraphale stay at his place when Aziraphale’s bookshop burned down and is once again rejected, though not as directly as some of the others. Aziraphale calls their friendship/partnership “fraternizing” in the 1800s. In the bandstand fight scene, Aziraphale tells Crowley, “We’re not friends” and “I don’t even like you.” 

Of course, we as viewers know that Aziraphale says and does most of these things because he’s constantly trying to protect Crowley from Hell’s punishments. We know that Crowley is what Aziraphale loves most in the world, and honestly, Crowley probably knows it, too. But I’m sure that doesn’t stop the constant onslaught of rejection from hurting and from discouraging him from ever really wanting to have The Big Conversation (the “what are we and what do you want us to be” conversation, as it were lol). 

Crowley has been relentlessly chasing Aziraphale for literal thousands of years, and Aziraphale never really gives all of himself to Crowley in return. That’s got to sting, and that’s got to be so disheartening, even though Crowley is definitely aware Aziraphale does love him/care about him. We all give Crowley shit about not communicating properly, but imagine how hard that would be when he gets that kind of a reaction whenever he does try to communicate? It would certainly not make it any easier. 

In addition to the chasing that Crowley does, he is also the one to almost always give in and apologize. We’ve established that Aziraphale says no to many of the requests Crowley makes of him. And yes, often Crowley says no the first time Aziraphale makes requests of him as well, but Crowley usually comes around. And Crowley always apologizes, even when he really shouldn’t have to because Aziraphale was also at fault or, at the very least, they should both be apologizing. We rarely ever see Aziraphale actually apologize for the hurtful shit he says and does to Crowley. Yes, we know from season 2 that Aziraphale has done the apology dance, so we can infer apologies do happen from time to time, but how often do we actually see this? Not often. 

I love Aziraphale to death, but he has a “my way or the highway” mentality, and Crowley gives in like every single time lol. (Because we know Crowley is so in love it’s not even funny and would do pretty much anything to keep Aziraphale around. #Aziraphale fell first but Crowley fell harder (or at least accepted it earlier) #I will die on this hill). 

So now we get to their fight in the finale of season 2. 

Crowley was so ready to confess. Our boy was prepared. He probably sat in that bookshop rehearsing what he was going to say over and over [just thinking about this hurts my heart lol, ouch]. Then Aziraphale comes in and Crowley literally asks Aziraphale if he [Crowley] can talk first, and Aziraphale still interrupts him (lol, Aziraphale, come on). [I really do wonder how that scene would have gone if Aziraphale had let Crowley speak first; fanfic writers, I’m looking at you]

Then Aziraphale proceeds to say Crowley’s worst nightmare lol. We can literally see on Crowley’s face that his heart is already breaking, and I’m sure he knows there’s a good chance he’s about to receive “let’s run off/be together” rejection #3. To be fair, Aziraphale is literally also telling Crowley he wants to be together, but all Crowley seems to be hearing is the “in heaven, as angels” part. So at this point, Crowley can be pretty sure the love of his eternal life is “choosing Heaven” over him once again [we, as viewers, know this isn’t really the case, but Crowley doesn’t]. 

Yet, he interrupts Aziraphale. He makes Aziraphale let him talk, he doesn’t just let himself be talked over or unheard this time, and Crowley proceeds to confess anyway and practically does the Good Omens equivalent of asking Aziraphale to marry him. Like holy shit, y’all. That takes some massive balls. 

Crowley is “rejected” (kinda-sorta; Aziraphale isn’t rejecting Crowley this time, just the “running off” bit, but Crowley sees it as a rejection of him). Fighting ensues. Aziraphale says accidentally hurtful things because he’s just as bad at communicating as Crowley is lol (ie “Nothing lasts forever” instead of saying, “You matter more to me than this bookshop,” which is what he meant). Crowley is literally beyond heartbroken, you can see it all over his face, especially when he puts the sunglasses back on. And yet he still has the courage to kiss Aziraphale? BRO. BROOOOO. I want what Crowley has lol because he’s certifiably insane for having the balls to do that. 

I’ve seen people say that the kiss was the wrong thing for Crowley to do in that moment, but I don’t agree. They were still talking past each other, and Crowley needed to do something to make sure Aziraphale knew exactly what he was offering (marriage). Crowley needed to do that because if he didn’t, there was still going to be ambiguity, which would make their eventual resolution harder in the end. I also think Crowley just wanted to kiss him out of desperation because he thought it would be his last chance and because he wanted to show Aziraphale exactly what he was saying no to, but that’s beside the point. And yes, the kiss broke Aziraphale’s heart, but I truly and genuinely think Aziraphale needed to have his heart broken this time in order for him to grow. 

Then Aziraphale once again says something incredibly hurtful and rejects him again. And what does Crowley do? He doesn’t run away this time, like he usually does. He goes out by the Bentley and stands there and watches Aziraphale. I think he did this partly out of the desire to give Aziraphale one last chance and partly out of a desire to make Aziraphale sit there and look at him as he chooses Heaven again. Balls, man, I tell you. 

And Crowley doesn’t go back to him, and he doesn’t beg him to stay. And he doesn’t give himself up completely to be with this person who can’t accept him as he is. He lets himself be known, and then he holds his ground. He doesn’t let someone fundamentally change him just for love. He doesn’t lose himself to love. 

And this leads me to my next point, which is that this fight needed to happen because both Crowley and Aziraphale have lessons to learn. 

Crowley’s lesson is that he needs to learn how to stand on his own two feet. He needs to learn how to put himself first sometimes so that he doesn’t completely lose himself to Aziraphale. He needs to learn how to say no, to really say no. He needs to learn how to hold his boundaries. He needs to develop an identity outside of Aziraphale and what Aziraphale wants/needs him to be, discover what he wants even when Aziraphale isn’t around. He also needs to learn how to clearly state and ask for what he wants and needs. I think him learning this lesson will also help with his anger issues because the kind of people-pleasing self-effacement that Crowley does for Aziraphale only breeds resentment, which comes out every time they get in an argument. 

And Aziraphale’s lesson is that he needs to learn how to really choose Crowley, not try to change him, not try to pretend he’s something he’s not. He needs to learn how to take Crowley exactly as he is. He needs to learn how to give Crowley as much as Crowley gives him so that their partnership is on more of an equal footing. Essentially, his lesson is the opposite of Crowley’s: where Crowley needs to learn how to not lose himself completely to Aziraphale, Aziraphale needs to learn how to lose himself a little bit to Crowley. I’m not saying Aziraphale is selfish because he’s absolutely not, but I am saying that his sense of individuality is a little too strong and that doesn’t exactly work when you’re trying to have a long-term, committed relationship/partnership with someone because yes, you’re still an individual, but you’re also now part of a unit. And that requires making decisions together and genuinely hearing the other person out. It requires compromising, which Aziraphale is not particularly good at. 

Crowley needs to let go a little bit and Aziraphale needs to hold on a little tighter so that they can meet in the middle. You can see this in almost all of their fights. When things don’t go Aziraphale’s way, he immediately resorts to telling Crowley he can leave. Think of this as the two of them holding on to opposite ends of a taut rope: Crowley pulls a little too hard, and Aziraphale lets the rope loosen, leaving Crowley to fall backwards on his own. Aziraphale needs to learn how to hold onto that rope just a little tighter so that him and Crowley are putting in equal amounts of effort.

And folks, they’re gonna do it. They’re gonna put in the work. They’re gonna learn their lessons. And then they’re going to kiss and make up (preferably with Aziraphale initiating the kissing this time lol, let’s give poor Crowley a rest and let him be chased for once). And then we’re going to get the most beautiful, loving, healthy relationship. But they just have to go through this first. It’ll make their resolution so much more satisfying. 

So Aziraphale, it’s time to do some chasing.  

[serpentarius]

been trying to wrap my head around the cancellation of "Our Flag Means Death" and why it hurts so fucking much. lots of folks who are much more eloquent than I have summed it up perfectly, but I still think it’s important I add my voice to the matter. 

It really, really sucks that the hurt is being compounded on us every time another queer/minority-led show gets prematurely cancelled. and for a long while, we also had to deal with the many shows that deliberately queerbaited us, which was a shitty and traumatic experience unto its own. And even though we’ve largely surpassed that early-‘00s-flavoured brand of queerbait now, mainstream queer media is still predominantly white-led. With the cancellation of OFMD, we've lost one of the very few intersectional queer shows in the mainstream. Shouldn’t we be beyond asking for crumbs at this point? Shouldn’t we get unabashedly intersectional shows helmed by and starring queer, BIPOC, and trans folks without them being axed for no rhyme or reason?

It’s exhausting at this point, honestly. OFMD has done so well in terms of viewership and engagement and fan response—almost entirely due to word of mouth and little thanks to the Max marketing team, mind you—and even still the show got cancelled? Can they make it make sense????

For me, the thing most akin to this OFMD situation was when Sense8 got cancelled. And yes, the fandom fought, and we eventually DID get a movie that wrapped things up years later! That gives me hope for OFMD, that maybe another network will pick it up, or maybe they’ll be able to make a movie someday. But what makes me sad about cases like Sense8 is knowing that the creators still had to force the narrative around the amount of time they were given. That the corporate overlords who only care about numbers and profit dictated how much time they had to wrap up their story.

And it fucking kills me that DJ only wanted one more season. One more season to complete the vision.

I'm just so mad that queer people are constantly being jerked around and used for profit and then left high and dry. And then we're given excuses like "oh there's no budget" or "oh there's not enough viewership, that's all it is". like, sure, maybe those are contributing factors, but then I look at all the useless garbage shows that have little viewership and high budgets that keep going forever and then I think "hmmmm, the math ain't mathing." It's fucking transparent; the corporations can spew all they want with their rainbow capitalism and talks about diversity, but the evidence is clear, and they can't convince me homophobia/racism/transphobia/etc. is not a factor in these decisions.

Anyways, back to OFMD. OFMD made me fall in love with fandom again. I drifted away from fandom for a while in my 20s, and while OFMD wasn't the first fandom that drew me back into the madness, it's certainly the largest. The sheer amount of creativity both within the show and outside of it has blown me away; I've read some of the best fics, seen some of the best art, and witnessed some of the most incredible creativity from people in this fandom.

And let's not forget the role of the show's creators and how they've interacted with us fans. They made us feel seen. And made us feel loved and valid, even when we were being weird and loud and horny. It's so fucking rare to see that. But they understood; understood that the show they made was for us, for any of us who've been marginalized or made to feel Othered or different or stuck in life or unsure of our identities. And they gave us so much love for it.

The story... man. The unique combination of quirky humour and bright visuals and dark, introspective moments, the gorgeous costumes and soft, lovely, unabashed queerness, and veteran actors and new actors all getting to shine, brilliant comedic actors getting to show off their dramatic chops and vice versa. For me, seeing Rhys Darby - an actor I've loved for a long time, but who I never thought I'd see in a leading role - getting to be the romantic lead in a queer role? And seeing acclaimed director/producer/screenwriter/actor Taika Waititi play opposite Rhys, as an indigenous Blackbeard? Fucking incredible. OFMD Edward Teach you will always be famous to me.

Anyways... despite my long ramblings here, I still don’t think I've been able to get to the root of WHY exactly this show has inched its way under my skin and stayed with me in the way it has. Maybe I'll spend years trying to understand it. But I DO know that it's in part to do with seeing both older queers AND a diverse range of queerness onscreen, in a way that I've never seen in media before. I DO know that OFMD has forced me to look inwardly, and allowed me to realize some important things about myself. About my own queerness, my own identity, things I'm still figuring out. I've cherished being able to see myself in Stede, in Ed, and each of the crew members. In Roach’s love for cooking, in Oluwande’s ability to mediate; in Jim’s quick temper, in the way Izzy builds walls to guard his heart. In Buttons’ quirkiness, in Wee John’s sass, in Frenchie’s ability to turn pain into humour; in The Swede’s silliness, in Lucius’ bluntness, in Pete’s soft heart beneath the skepticism. Lastly, OFMD has inspired me. To create, to write, to draw, to devour other peoples' works and worlds while I sit in sheer, overflowing joyousness at their talent.

so yeah. the news of this cancellation is upsetting and hurtful and disappointing. And it's making us cry, and it's making us grieve, and may make us hollow and numb at times because we've lost yet another thing we love so deeply before it was meant to go. It's so much more than "just a TV show". It means more to us than any passive mindless idiotic mind-numbing bullshit - because even though there's a time and a place and a purpose for that type of media, it's the thought-provoking work, the work that creators pour their entire hearts and souls into, that hit us deep in our own souls. The work that changes our lives. The work that has the ability to save lives, as I know OFMD has done for so many. 

please know I'm sending immense amounts of love and strength to those of you who are also hurting. we'll get through this, one way or another, and I'll keep up with the hope that we'll get more someday; but in the meantime, I'm holding you tight. ❤️️🫂

[jennaimmortal]

Musings on OFMD Season 2

I’m feeling a bit sad today for the OFMD writers. After rewatching S1 & 2 a couple times, it’s become blatantly clear to me that Izzy’s arc this season was a very obvious love letter to both Izzy fans & the great Con O’Neil. Izzy was very clearly written to be an obstacle to Ed’s healing & personal growth, a snare that Ed needed to be freed from, albeit with plenty of nuance hiding under the surface. It would have been much easier for them to kill Izzy off while he was still the toxic, abusive, sadomasochistic terror of S1E10.

Instead of taking the easy route, though, the writers flipped the trope on its head! They utilized every bit of the potential buried beneath Izzy’s super fucked up shell. This season Izzy got

• a fully fleshed out redemption complete with terrible consequences of his 1x10 actions

• a realization of the possibility of another way of thinking & existing that he’d spent all of S1 running from & trying to destroy,

• genuine love & support from his crew mates which he was actually able to accept,

• exploration of the long abandoned softer side of his nature,

• an apology from Ed w/o first offering one of his own,

• a powerful, devastatingly poignant speech that mentally demolished a new nemesis, and finally

• a beautiful, meaningful death in the arms of the man he’d dedicated so much of his life to, known that he was truly loved by him & completely accepting of the fact that Ed’s love was not in the form he’d always hoped for.

It was so much more than we could have hoped for, and was very obviously done in service to the MANY fans that had fallen in love with Izzy even after S1, as well as to give Con a storyline worthy of his immense talent. Considering the face that Izzy was never going to end up becoming the show’s third protagonist, it was more than we could have hoped for!

OFMD has two protagonists, Stede & Ed. All the secondary character narratives that haven’t directly involved Ed and/or Stede have been icing on the cake, but the cake has always been the Gentlebeard love story. I feel like some people forget this, expecting them to treat the secondary characters as if it were an ensemble show instead of a show with leads.

Izzy’s arc really was an amazing gift! The writers gave us this incredible journey for Izzy this season, and what did a disgraceful number of people do? They attacked David directly, insulted the entire show, the writers, & other characters, even wishing actual harm & misery to other characters or even to David himself!

While I know that comparatively speaking, the percentage of show fans who reacted this way was relatively small, it was still an astounding amount of hatred & vitriol thrown at the people who had obviously worked very hard to give Izzy fans something beautiful to hold on to after his inevitable death. Much of the discourse honestly shocked me, considering the fact that OFMD isn’t even an adaptation of another work.

When fans get angry at shows written as adaptations of books, it’s a bit more understandable for them to have extreme reactions. They’ve had certain ideas and headcanons about characters they’ve felt very strongly about for a long time. It can be really jarring & painful when expectations like that aren’t met, the characters or plots are taken in totally different directions, or even excluded entirely.

OFMD, however, is an original creation. This is David Jenkins’s story. These are David Jenkins’s characters. He knows his story, his plotlines, his characters far better than anyone else does because they came from HIS brain! So while we as fans can have our own interpretations & head canons, they are always going to be at risk of being proven totally wrong by the ACTUAL canon.

One of the worst aspects of fandoms, in my opinion, is the way people become so proprietary over the story & characters, insisting that their own interpretations & theories are the only correct ones, which is exactly what happened with Izzy. Fans’ individual & collective interpretations, theories, hopes, & other head canons became concrete & true in their minds. So much so that when the actual story didn’t meet those expectations, so many of them lashed out in some truly unpleasant, sometimes hateful ways.

My only hope is that the rest of the fandom’s love, appreciation, constructive criticism, heartbreak, pain, joy, & excitement has been enough to drown out the deluge of vitriolic comments directed at David & the other writers.

If you stuck with me through this unintentionally long diatribe, thank you! Maybe take a moment to give the writers some comments or replies on social media, showing your love! I know I will!

[novastaree]

i love 15x8 but its sometimes a little nonsensical to me but also so amazing at the same time?!?!

first off chuck being at a casino just killing people and being served is so real because if i was god and i was fed up id pull the same shit as him. And then when we see Adam and Michael they treat the waiter and the people at the dinner kindly even paying when they don't really need to and Michael going out of his way to fix everyones memory was a good non-mentioned comparison between the two and also made me feel like even though he wasn't on screen Michael changed alongside adam because szn 5 Michael was scary as shit and probably didn't care about the peoples feelings like his father

then we get to the nonsensical part which is honestly the dialog first up the diner scene. Adam says he can't go to college but he wants to get a little job and i just don't think Michael will sit back as Adam gets a little job in any way he wouldn't sit back during college. it is nice Adam wants to actually pay people even though if i was in his stop no way in hell (pun hehe) id do that

(edit but also them talking about the fast food killing him??? No it won't You're an archangel buddy nothing can affect him why are you shaming him 😭😭😭)

next is Michael getting caught in fucking holy fire by Castiel??? In season 5 literally Uriel got rid of holy oil before he entered a room (or maybe it was Michael I'm pretty sure it was uriel tho) And you're telling me Michael who got torched by holy fire and didn't seem to have a good time the first time by the person he was called by didn't get rid of the oil before he stepped foot near them and also it's a Castiel forever to drop that stupid fucking lighter he could stepped out. And How did Michael just let them put the stupid cuffs on He could have just thrown one of these hoes into the fire and stepped out when they were trying to cuff him??? Also they literally got him to have a conversation with him why the fuck would they kidnap him?

and my favorite favorite thing to complain about in this episode is their stupid ass conversations They start off by trying to get Michael who they just kidnapped practically to understand their side. And then when that's not obviously working and he's being kind of bitchy to them Michael says like "You who left me in hell and let your own brother rot" Sam spews some bullshit like "Well in our line of work We got to get used to lost causes blah blah blah blah blah" And first off Michael saying you who left your brother to rot in hell?? So did you and for like a million times longer what 😭 But then they think instead of calling him out on his hypocrisy they start going off about their job and bullshit! WHY WOULD MICHAEL CARE DUDE HE'S AN ANGEL HE DOESN'T GIVE A FUCK ABOUT YOUR LINE OF WORK!!!

I did love Michael and castiel's fight but they both looked just a bit constipated 🤏

What made me really mad and like confused was 'when we locked away the darkness this was the spell' DIDN'T YOU DO THAT BEFORE EARTH AND PURGATORY AND THE UNIVERSE WAS A THING???? How the fuck is it a spell??? The final season I feel like they really were just giving any solution.

Also it's so funny to me how incredibly powerful Michael is even in these stupid fucking angel cuffs like it felt like the only thing it really was doing was making it so he couldn't get out of the cuffs but didn't do shit besides that. like he opened up a portal to purgatory which Raphael another archangel couldn't fucking do except for like one day a year or something. BUT MICHAEL BEING SO POWERFUL ALSO CONFUSES ME BECAUSE IF HE CAN JUST OPEN UP FUCKING PORTALS TO ANOTHER FUCKING UNIVERSES WHY DIDN'T HE JUST OPEN UP A FEW DIFFERENT PORTALS TO GET OUT OF THE FUCKING CAGE

Also I might be the only one but I feel like Adam accepting their apology just felt like him saying 'get me the fuck out of here I'm so done' Also him cursing Castiel was funny "Since when do we get what we deserve?" looks to Castiel and walks out. yeah he totally knew that the gay angel was fucked personally if I was Adam I would have slapped Dean before I walked out but you know cursing his angel boyfriend is probably just as good

Also Adam's so peaceful in this episode like maybe it's cuz he doesn't want to like repeat what happened the first time he met his brothers when he kind of got possessed immediately by an archangel but now that he is what was his like consequence for being kind of a dick to them, like imo he totally should have cuz even though he doesn't really look it to us I'm pretty sure canonically he was still 19 yk

anyways that was a lot but I'm pretty sure it's all of my thoughts on this episode a beautiful crazy episode

[raphaelesbian]

I blame @melonpalooza for introducing me first to the Brothers Sun, and then the idea of a TMNT au based on the brothers sun. If you haven't watched it, it's on netflix and you GOTTA check it out it's fantastic and only one season.

In this AU, there's 4 brothers instead of 2 obv, with Raph and Leo staying behind in Japan while Shen left for America with Mikey and Donnie. Details and closeups under the cut :)

Like Charles from the original show, Leo is the most lethal member of their gang. Him killing a man at 14 was what convinced Shen that he was too far gone and she had to leave with the remaining kids who could still be "saved"

Saki's son, not Yoshi's, though Yoshi raised him up until his untimely, totally-not-related-to-Saki death. Which is part of why Shen was able to abandon him (sorry Shen, you're not a great mom in this one...)

Sci-fi nerd who would love to write, though he suppresses all that. The only thing that matters is Protecting the Family.

Meditates a lot (He Is Dissociating)

Spitting image of Shen

Where Leo is cold and dispassionate, Saki's dragon, Raph is his rabid dog. Lowkey feral, laughs during fights, always smiling. Bloodthirsty.

Genuinely a fun guy, kind of taking Blood Boots's role from the show

He was 11 when Shen left, so he was exposed to the violence younger and more intimately than Leo was.

Really looks up to Leo, not that he'd ever admit it.

Very little self-preservation instinct. Leo has had to frantically stop him from bleeding out WAY too many times.

Yoshi's son, but he was born at a weird point where he honestly could've been Yoshi's or Saki's, and Shen honestly was pretty sure he was Saki's (or told herself that to assuage any guilt about leaving him)

Saki totally saw a younger Yoshi in him, and was super normal about it. Saki definitely doesn't miss the brother he didn't kill and isn't mentoring Raph and extra close to him as a result. Who said that.

Gets shot when trying to save Shen after she's taken hostage. Mikey fails to take his pulse and incorrectly says he's dead, so they leave him behind. They think he's dead for at least a few days and Leo crashes out HARD

22, already almost done with his doctorate. So incredibly done with this entire situation and wants to focus on his dissertation

Kind of remembers his older brothers, but not super well (he was 7 when they left)

Shen uses him as the main justification for leaving, because he's just SO smart and he would've been wasted in a life of crime. Raph is definitely a bit snarky about his genius and potential

Learned Japanese for school credits, but his accent is ATROCIOUS, which Raph and Leo roast him over

Leo is especially jealous of the life Donnie got to lead, and is cold to him as a result.

Spitting image of Yoshi, but with Shen's coloring

Only 4 when they left, so he has basically no memory of the others or Japan

Donnie had too much Potential, and Mikey was just too Bright to stay in Japan. Too soft and gentle for that life.

Not one for school, but he's in an improv club like Bruce was. Makes friends with literally everyone.

Thinks the whole crime family thing is SO COOL (until it isn't). Super excited to meet Raph and Leo and learn about their history.

Only understands like, a few words of Japanese. Knows enough to order food and ask for the bathroom. His accent is way better than Donnie's though (probably bc he's a big anime fan)

Mondo is his best friend. Him and Mondo both get along well with Raph. Blame themselves for Raph's "death," considering it was Mikey's plan that got him killed.

Bleaches the tips of his hair.