#i am not an artist so if you notice a mistake

[chitsuus]

kitty rinne with airplane ears :3

[sleepyskydraws]

Reflection

[lavenderchqn]

synopsis — 4NEMO idol dating scenarios pairing — idol!aether, venti, xiao, heizou, kazuha and wanderer x gn!reader warnings — reader is also an idol in heizou's and wandy's; venti is feeling melancholic (me2, dw king); xiao is in the trenches, a very minor panic attack in heizou's, just regular sad stuff happening in the setting of wanderer's and genuine chaos wanderer but what's new with him; heads up for kpop related language, that's all I think? notes — I have officially called the 4nemo fandom wispies as an homage to the venti wisp, we have to deal with my mistake now.

The time for your weekly live was nigh. For the past few months, you had taken it upon yourself to spend a few hours streaming some work on Friday. Although it was abysmal to even think about working on a Friday afternoon. Having it be a stream made you more motivated to work. 

Ever since becoming a manager of 4NEMO, you had to grab onto anything to not procrastinate. The role expansion from a producer to a producer-manager hadn’t been treating you kindly. Not to mention it had been a sudden decision, due to their previous manager leaving suddenly after the death of a close friend. You couldn’t have left the boys on their own.

“Good afternoon, Chat.” You opened your stream the same, just like always. Your camera was turned on, showing your business casual self to hundreds of fans. Another perk of forcing yourself to work under the watchful eye of Whispies — the lovely fandom that was here to support the boys. 

“What are we doing today, [Y/N]?” You read the chat message out loud that’s been swimming in the sea of hellos and wishes for productive work. “Just regular stuff, I have some emails to answer. Everything I don’t want to come to on Monday… I guess”

After the initial stream preparations and deciding on the theme of Lofi music accompanying you for the journey, you made sure to remember to put your camera on full screen. If there was one thing you didn’t want to happen, that’d be catching a lawsuit for sharing sensitive information. 

“Gonna work now.” You turned to the camera, putting a fist slightly in the air. “Fighting, everyone.”

With that, you were off — your timer running down from an hour. Very quickly after your first stream, with the decision made alongside your fans, you had all settled on a Pomodoro method. You would work for an hour, taking care of everything possible and having a short break. It would most often turn into a quick Q&A section. 

Looking back, becoming friends with the fans had only done you wonders. By being established very quickly into the career of 4NEMO, they had nothing but support for the time your relationship with Aether has been announced. Oh, that had been a rollercoaster of a day. And let’s be real, the stream of that week’s Friday had been the most viewed one on your channel. 

An email here, an email there… You were absolutely swarmed with emails. Just what on earth was Venti doing to need so many emails answered.

You put your head in your hands, sighing. “I am going to kill you on Monday, you dick.” Whispering to yourself, trying to give away as little as possible. For the sake of the fans, you just couldn’t threaten to murder one of their beloved idols. Especially not Wanderer’s or Xiao’s… If that were the case, you probably wouldn’t even make it to Monday. 

Having decided to calm yourself down with a sip of water, you notice the timer of your phone going down to zero. What a lovely timing, you thought.

“Alright, everyone.” You turn to the camera, your phone in hand. “An hour has passed, it’s break time.” 

The excitement in the messages is apparent. Some fans show up to the stream just for the questions-and-answer segment. At the very least, it’s what the statistics say. You don’t blame them whenever that happens. If you were in their position, you’d probably share the enthusiasm for the possibility of learning more about your favourite music artists from a reliable source. 

“What question do you want to start with?” You ask eyes on the chat box. The first question had always been the one to set the tone for the rest of the section. 

The Chat in question goes into chaos with far too many questions at once. Some of them instantly get deleted by moderators for not abiding by the rules… some of them are unhinged, to say the least. Why of all things they’d want to know the foot size of Kuni’s— Wanderer’s. You had promised to call him by his stage name, you should do that even when thinking.

In an instant, one of the questions pops out to you. “Can you sing your favourite Chimes’ song for us?” You read it out loud. It was the first week that this would’ve made sense. Last week the newest album of 4NEMO came out, featuring solo member songs for the first time. 

You put on a thinking face, fully aware it’s just for show. Ever since starting the work on said album, almost a year ago… It was given which of the songs would be your favourite. 

“I’m no singer, but I could try…” You answer, fully prepared to start singing ‘The Road Not Taken’ by your lovely partner. There’s so much encouragement from the fans, that it’d be a shame not to try. “Don’t laugh at me once you hear it though! It was your idea, guys!” 

Taking a deep breath, you prepare yourself. You imagine the intro part with its beautiful guitars and piano notes. You even mimic playing the guitar.

“Traveling in the nights you've left me in…” Surprisingly, your voice is magnificent for this. You’re surprised at yourself for how good you sound. “I feel you in the last blow of wind…” 

“Even nowhere I can find you out,” You start swaying, imagining your partner singing the song next to you. “The answer is not far off now…” 

You’re so into the song in your head, that you don’t even realise the door to your room has been opened. Don’t notice your lovely partner coming into the frame, shushing the screaming chat. He’s about to make you aware of his existence.

“This journey of ours has been bittersweet…” You stumble back to reality when you realise the voice you’re hearing isn’t yours. Looking around, you finally notice Aether standing right next to you. You roll away from him, surprised to the core. 

“Oh my gosh, you scared me!” You shout, hands at your chest. “What are you doing here?” 

“The voice of an angel summoned me, of course.” He winks at you, still in the frame. “How are you, my Love?” 

“Fucking floored, mate.” You slump down into your chair, embarrassed at the situation. “I didn’t even know you were home.” 

“I just got back… I’m so fucking sore.” He sighs, stealing one of the other chairs in your office and taking a seat. “Remind me to kick Ven in the balls for such a rigorous practice session on Monday…” 

“We’re live, Aether!” Not only was he threatening one of his group mates on a live… he was also destroying his established angelic persona. 

Let’s just say… Venti was not happy on Monday, with either of you.

It’s close to 1 AM right now. The final concert of their latest tour came to an end around an hour ago. It happened right here, in Mondstadt… his home. The group's biggest tour, one that allowed them to travel all across Teyvat. Looking back, as the leader… and the initiator of the group, Venti should be ecstatic. It’s an enormous achievement no matter how you look at it. He got to perform with some of the closest people in his life and travel the world ending it with a chance to sing right in his place. 

… And yet, at the same time… he’s feeling a little empty. For the longest time, this was their major goal. Now that it has been achieved, what’s more for 4NEMO to work towards to. That’s all that’s on Venti’s mind during their ride to their apartment complex. He’s silent for the entire duration — something that isn’t unacknowledged by the other members. 

“Venti, what’s on your mind?” Kazuha asks, his voice sleepy. “You’ve been silent ever since the concert ended. Surely the resident yapper would have something to add?” 

“I’m doing absolutely fantastic, Kazu!” Venti forces himself to be energetic. If he could, he’d just turn around and go nap… following in the footsteps of Aether and Heizou, who are asleep in their seats. “Just… taking the entire day in.” 

“I see.” Kazuha smiles, turning around and settling into his seat. “Make sure to take care of yourself, whatever is on your mind.” 

Xiao and Wanderer don’t engage in the conversation, most likely too tired to participate. At the very least they don’t comment on Venti’s unusual behaviour further. As much as he appreciates them not prodding into his thoughts… he wishes they would. Just this once. Just so that he doesn't have to be surrounded by all those voices. It’s just… difficult to come up with anything. It’s very loud inside his head. Far too loud. 

Venti gazes out of the car window, watching Mondstadt’s familiar streets blur past as they head back to their apartment complex. The city is quiet at this hour, bathed in the soft glow of streetlights, and yet it feels strangely distant to him. He should feel at home here, in the place that had shaped so much of his identity as both an artist and a person, but tonight... it’s just like any other city, just one of the many they’d visited on the tour.

It doesn’t get better even when the car stops at the entrance to the apartment complex. With the help of Xiao and Wanderer, they all manage to lead their sleepy companions to their flats. Oh, one of the perks of being well-established -  being able to sleep in a place that you don’t have to share with anyone. 

Now that he’s left all alone, prompted to head on to have his deserved rest by the two other awake members, he finally feels the exhaustion enter his body. Had it been any other day, Venti would most likely have taken a bath and had a glass of dandelion wine… Not tonight though. 

As soon as he opens the door to his apartment, he gets reminded of your presence in it. Your shoes are right next to his slippers… Multiple of his oversized jackets that have gotten borrowed for eternity by you… He’s home. Actually home… and not in an all-inclusive hotel. 

It’s for the better. Venti thinks there would be no way for him to fall asleep after a night like this in a stuffy hotel. Truth be told, he’s unsure if he will manage it tonight at all. He feels the immense need to distract his thoughts somehow, anyhow. 

That’s how he ends up on the balcony, his phone in hand. He’s starting a live at almost 3 AM in the morning… He prays that Xiao and Wanderer have joined the other three in going to sleep. Venti would rather not have to deal with their teasing the next time they meet.

In no time a bunch of Wispies are joining, concerned messages pouring into the chat. 

“It’s going to be a short one, don’t you worry lovelies…” He says, his voice hushed. Despite coming so late at night he’s unsure if you’ve fallen asleep yet. Venti predicts you must be out, given the lack of attention he’s been given. 

“To all of you who were at tonight’s concert…” He starts, eyes looking out into the distance.” I hope you got back safely. Safety is a priority, after all.” 

Thanks to a sudden force of wind, Venti’s hair flutters around his face as he continues to speak, his voice soft and calm despite the rush of thoughts in his head. He wasn’t sure why he decided to go live, maybe it was the strange emptiness that had settled in after the concert — something he couldn't explain to his bandmates but perhaps could share with his fans. They’d been with him from the start, after all.

“To everyone who came tonight... thank you,” Venti continues, his fingers absentmindedly fidgeting with the ends of his braids. “You guys made this tour special. Ending it in Mondstadt, my home... it was like coming full circle. But... now that it’s over, it feels strange, y’know?”

The chat instantly floods with responses — some fans expressing their love for the group and their music, others showing concern for his wellbeing. Venti smiled faintly at the screen, feeling the warmth from their concern, but he wasn’t ready to dive into his deeper thoughts just yet. Not here, not now.

He sighed and leaned against the balcony railing, the cool night air helping to clear his head. The lights of Mondstadt twinkled in the distance, casting a soft glow over the quiet streets. It was peaceful, and yet, inside him, there was still this gnawing feeling of incompletion.

“I guess it’s funny,” he chuckled softly, “we’ve been working toward this tour for so long... and now that it’s done, I can’t but feel a little lost. Like, what’s next? What should we work toward now?” He paused, letting the words sink in as he read through the chat. Some Wispies echoed his sentiment, sharing their own experiences of feeling aimless after reaching a big goal. Others reassured him that whatever came next, they’d be there for him and the group, regardless of the route they took. 

Venti took a deep breath. “I don’t know what the future holds for 4NEMO, but I do know this... I’m grateful. For all of it. The music, the journey, and most importantly, for all of you.”

He is about to sign off when a soft sound behind him makes him freeze. The unmistakable creak of a door opening. His heart skips a beat as he glances over his shoulder, expecting to see an empty doorway — only to find you standing there, rubbing your eyes sleepily covered by a blanket. You must’ve been woken by his quiet monologue.

“Venven… why are you out on the balcony at this hour?” You ask, your voice thick with sleep. Venti doesn’t realise it at the time, but it is the introduction… of his lover to 4NEMO fans. He must think quick, not wanting to share more than necessary. 

He waves at the camera, giving a hurried smile to his fans. “Alright, Wispies, gotta go. Need to take care of something!” He ends the live, putting his phone down before turning around to you.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to wake you, my muse…” Venti says softly, running a hand through his hand. “Couldn’t sleep…” 

You step closer, the cool night breeze causing you to try to partially cover him with your blanket. “I could tell. You’ve got that look again… like you’re thinking too much.”

Venti chuckles lightly, still lacking his usual energy. “Yeah, maybe I am.” His eyes meet yours, the usual playful demeanour replaced with something more vulnerable. “The tour’s over... and I thought I’d feel more... complete. But instead, I just feel... empty.”

You join him to lean against the railing as well, your presence grounding him in a way he hasn’t realise he needed. “Maybe that’s normal,” You say after a moment to think. “You’ve been pushing yourself for so long. Maybe now that you’ve reached that goal, it’s okay to feel... off. You don’t always have to know what comes next. The guys are going to help you with that, for sure.”

Venti lets your words sink in, his shoulders relaxing a bit. It’s comforting… getting to hear it was okay to not have all the answers. Since the beginning, he had been the one everyone relied on to keep things moving forward. But maybe, just maybe, it was alright to take a step back and figure things out at his own pace. With or without their support. 

“Thanks,” He murmurs. “I guess I needed to hear that.”

You smile softly, nudging him with your shoulder. “You’re allowed to take a break, you know. The world can wait for a while.”

Venti chuckles again, this time with more sincerity. “Yeah... I guess you’re right.” He takes a look back out at Mondstadt, the weight on his chest lifting ever so slightly. The future can wait. For now, he has this moment, and that was enough.

As you stand together on the balcony, the city quiet and still, Venti finally feels the tension ease out of him. He doesn’t have all the answers, and maybe that is okay. For tonight, being here, with you, is all he needs.

Whatever was happening today, was nothing short of chaos. Venti — the resident night owl — has been stuck in calls management for the past few hours, and questioned about the mess happening on social media. Xiao was at the epicentre of it, and they all needed the guy to realise whatever was going on. 

Every awake member has done their utmost to try and get ahold of Xiao, without any success. Their last resort would be to visit his apartment… for quite the surprise. 

By the time Xiao wakes up the 4NEMO group chat is in shambles. The poor idols have been trying to summon him for the past hours, their texts and calls going unanswered. He’s unsure what to do first when he sees all the notifications on his phone. 

Once another call screen shows up, he finally answers. It’s Venti, obviously. Perhaps the group leader will enlighten him on what has transpired for the members to be unrestful. 

“—Hello?” Xiao says, unsure.

“Oh my archon, fucking finally!” Venti’s shout makes the man recoil from the phone in an instant. “Have you seen the fucking video yet?” 

“For fuck’s sake, lower your voice down… What’s up?” Xiao answers, looking at the asleep person in his bed. You’ve decided to stay the night after the date you had yesterday. He takes a second to think about what video Venti is even talking about. 

As far as he’s concerned, it has to be the ‘making of’ their latest comeback… It’s been almost three weeks, meaning it was high time for it to be released.

“What happened?” Xiao asks once more, unnerved at Venti’s silence. Shit must’ve seriously hit the fan if Venti was giving him the silence treatment. He takes a second to think about what could’ve happened in the making of video of all things. He remembers you were there working as a movie producer… Was he in trouble due to something you’d done? 

“Just…” Venti’s voice is numb, overwhelmed by the situation at hand. “Check twitter, would you.” He commands before hanging up. 

Xiao blinks at his phone, the call abruptly ending with Venti’s cryptic demand. The sudden tension in his voice felt completely out of place, especially after such a peaceful night. He glances over at you, still fast asleep beside him, your face serene in the morning light filtering through the window. Whatever this was, it could wait... but clearly not for long.

He opened Twitter to a mess of being the star of trending tags. Not only him… You were also there, dubbed as ‘Xiao[Y/N]’. That was most certainly bad. The fans were not supposed to know about your relationship. What the fuck was going on? 

Xiao hesitates a little before clicking to see what the deal is about. Maybe he's still dreaming. He wishes that was the case. His fingers hover over the trending tag. His heart is pounding in his chest, as anxiety creeps up his spine. He takes a deep breath before finally clicking on it. As the page loads, he’s met with an abundance of videos, comments, and screenshots. At first glance, it feels like utter chaos — the group’s fans are divided into theorising about your relationship, defending and attacking almost equally. 

After a lot of scrolling, he finally sees it — one video with a particularly high number of notes. As soon as he clicks to see it, it all starts making sense. It’s the one scene Xiao had asked the editors to leave out the video… still in their newest release. 

After multiple takes, the producers had announced that they finally got the shot. 

“What do you think?” Xiao asked, coming up to you, swiping the sweat from his forehead. Solo scenes always made him nervous. Especially those where he was supposed to look attractive… and borderline sultry. If he had to pick a singular thing that absolutely enraged him, it was the constant need to pander to their fans. 

“Very hot,” You answered, taking a look at him. You know you had gotten extremely lucky by getting into a relationship with such an attractive guy like Xiao… There were so many fans wishing they were in your spot, writing fanfiction just to get a crumb of what you had a daily intake of. “You gotta wear your hair pushed back more often.” 

Your comment intrigued Xiao. Perhaps getting to work with an idol group for the first time, not to mention one your partner was in, was bringing out your weird thoughts. “Oh really?” He could engage in a little bit of teasing, why not. His eyes didn’t leave yours as he combed his hand through his hair. 

From the faint hotness that crept onto your cheeks, he knew of the effect he had on you. Unfortunately for him, you were not the only one observing his motions. 

“Get a fucking room, you lovebirds!” Heizou shouted from the other end of the shooting venue. This had gathered the attention of the remaining 4NEMO members, who out of nowhere became extremely interested in Xiao’s solo scenes… And with them, the camera followed in your direction.

It’s all there… in it’s full glory. “Fuck,” Xiao curses under his breath. He feels a sudden rush of cold, realising exactly why Venti sounded so panicked. This wasn’t just a minor breach of privacy — it was a full exposure of a relationship everyone involved with 4NEMO had been desperately trying to keep hidden. 

The shitstorm he’s in the middle of proving exactly why he never spoke about you. The comments were relentless, ranging from supportive to accusatory. Some were feeling betrayed, others were speculating about every detail of your relationship. There were calls for a boycott, with a cluster of fans defending Xiao and his right to a private life. 

He shuts his phone off, gripping his hair in frustration. This isn’t just bad for him— for heaven’s sake, you still didn’t know about anything. Would you even have a job anymore? For fucks’ sake, you had been so excited about working with 4NEMO and idols in general… and due to this fucking error your career could easily be over before it even took off. 

Whatever this mess is, it needed desperate damage control. And for the sake for the sake of keeping your relationship healthy, he had to make you aware of what had happened.

Xiao shakes you awake, guilt all over his face. You look so comfy tucked under the blankets, akin to a kitten. No matter how much he’d prefer to leave you be and deal with the mess himself. There was absolutely a call to be made to whoever edited this episode. 

“Five more mins…” You turn to the other side, getting away from Xiao’s hand. 

“We don’t have five minutes,” Xiao sighs, taking away your blankets. “We’re in a lot of trouble, babe.” 

The singular mention of you being in trouble wakes you up more efficiently than any espresso. 

You sit up immediately, rubbing your eyes as you register Xiao’s serious tone. The warmth of the blankets is quickly replaced by a knot of anxiety forming in your stomach. "What do you mean we're in trouble?" you ask, your voice laced with confusion.

Xiao hesitates for a moment, his lips pressed into a thin line. "The making-of video... It’s out. And... there’s a scene in there. Us.”

It takes a second for his words to fully sink in. Your heart skips a beat as you process the weight of his words. “Wait, what? Us?” You ask, blinking rapidly confused. 

“Yeah, that solo scene thing. The one where we… where I came over to talk to you. They didn’t cut it like I asked.” He looks at you with a mixture of guilt and concern. “Everyone knows now.” 

You lay back down, deflated. No matter how much you tried to damage control — cutting out the scene, pulling the video down… it wouldn’t do anything. Whatever entered the domain of the internet would stay there for eternity. “What do you suggest, Xiao?” 

“I need to call management, that's for fucking sure.” 

Humming, you accept his thought. Getting the input of a third party would be for the best. The company must have a PR specialist ready to help with the damage control. “I thought you’d break up with me instantly if that ever were to happen.” 

Xiao, who by this point got out of bed stops himself before leaving the room. The look he gives you says everything — ‘the fucking audacity you have’. He’s appalled at your train of thought.

“Have you lost your mind?.” He says, voice laced with coldness. “We’re in this together, for better or worse.” 

Maintaining a relationship with an idol under sworn secrecy was difficult, but do you know what was even harder? Being an idol yourself and having to keep it to yourself. 

You and Heizou had made the decision to keep your relationship private. After days of discussing and gathering input from your agency teams, you both reached the same conclusion: it was far easier to be cautious in public than to navigate the complexities of parasocial fans.

Every outing became a carefully calculated operation — hoodies on, masks and glasses adoring your faces. Not the simplest touch was shared between the two of you in public. Every precaution you could taken, you took. Any hugs, kisses and whatever Heizou felt like showering you with had to be done behind closed doors. If there had been one advantage of being signed to different idol agencies, it would’ve been the lack of ‘company-wide’ appearances. Honestly, if you two were ever seen together in public like that… well, social media would simply go up in flames.

Yet, there was one unavoidable event where idol groups from all over Teyvat would gather — the end-of-year awards. A nightmare for anyone trying to keep their relationship under wraps. Not only was the venue packed with fans, but it was also swarming with cameras. Every reaction shot of idols was broadcasted globally, often becoming memes, destined to live on as reaction images for ages.

This year’s award ceremony was most certainly one to go down in history. 

You knew 4NEMO would be one of the groups performing this year — Heizou had given you a heads-up. You’d heard him hum through the setlist they’d prepared, and you’d even had a sneak peek at the prototype outfits they’d be wearing. But what he conveniently left out was who would be taking on the solo dance during the final instrumental section.

Now, seated at the table, surrounded by your fellow members and other industry icons, you suddenly understood why he’d kept that part a secret.

As the lights dimmed and refocused on a single point, your heart skipped a beat. A spotlight circled to the stage, and there he was — draped in burgundy, his signature colour, eyes fierce and focused. Every subtle hint, every melody he hummed recently, all led to this moment. And yet, seeing him under the spotlight, dressed to the nines and poised to take on the solo, was breathtaking in a way that not a single writer could capture with their words. 

The music swelled, and Heizou moved with flawless precision. Each and every beat punctuated by sharp turns and graceful slides. It was simply impossible to take your eyes off of him. 

In your subconscious, you could feel people staring at you, and yet there was not a single thing that could force you to look away. It felt as if Heizou was dancing right in front of you, for you. The distance from the tables you were sitting at to the stage where he was did not exist at that moment. 

You could notice every glint in his eye, every smirk creeping on his face. He was not dancing for the audience. They simply had the privilege of being in the same space as the two of you. Holy fuck, your boyfriend was so fucking hot. Of course, he was attractive each and every day. Today he simply decided to crank it up to an eleven. 

Whatever that Casanova was doing, he was doing it damn right. He was simply in each and every single one thought of your head and— oh my god. Did his hair tie just slip out?! Dearest fucking archons, the last thing you needed was witnessing his ruby locks swaying to the rhythm. 

Wait, wait, wait. Dance breaks never lasted this long. What was going on? Did you get teleported to a different dimension, where time slowed just for you? Simply to allow you to watch your partner in his element? Surely not? Fuck, Heizou needed to really fucking stop. With each and every beat, you felt melting in your seat a little more. 

With a strong push, your little trance was over. Your leader, and frankly your best friend has been trying to shake you back to reality for the last few minutes.

“Heavens, [Y/N].” They whispered, finally getting your attention away from your partner. “We most certainly do not need a dating scandal tonight.” Your confused look must’ve alerted your fellow members of how out of it you are. Truly, to you, the past thirty seconds felt like hours. 

“You’ve been watching your loverboy so hard, you didn’t even notice that your reaction was out for everyone to see.” 

“Pretty sure it’s all over the net already.” 

“Man, I even took a picture. Wanna see?”

You cover your face with your hands, the seriousness of the situation slowly creeping in. Of course, they showed you. Not anyone else, but you. Do you even want to know how you looked? You feel all warm from the sheer nervousness enveloping your entire body. 

“Our silly [Y/N],” Your leader resumes throwing whispers your way. “I don’t think, I’ve ever seen a person look at someone else with so much love in their eyes.”

“Your boyfie for sure enchanted you tonight. Make sure you reward him well later tonight.” 

Oh right, you still had to deal with Heizou’s reaction on top of everything. 

You have been pacing around your flat ever since getting home. You refuse to check either your phone or social media in general. Living with a lack of knowledge sounds like such bliss. You most certainly do not need to be given a reality check. Every time your brain stops for a little, your thoughts circle back to the performance Heizou gave earlier today. 

“How annoying…” You whisper to yourself, slapping your cheeks gently. You really need something to take over your mind for a short while.

“Oh? What’s annoying you, dearest?” Heizou asks, his arms sneaking around your figure to give you a back hug. He separates the second he feels panic creep into your body. “Shh— It’s just me, don’t you worry.” 

With a few deep breaths, led by your partner holding your hand and caressing it gently to further ground you, your heart rate finally returns to normal.

“Hi,” You stammer, finally taking a look at him.

“Hi,” Heizou answers back, his olive eyes looking with relief. “You okay now?” 

“Yeah, sorry for worrying you for a sec there.” You sigh. “I’ve been out of it ever since the awards…” Your mind takes a double-back the second the words leave your mouth. Oh, you made a blunder. 

“Did I dance too good for your liking, dear?” Heizou asks a smile not leaving his face as he tilts his head. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you this enchanted at something!” 

You’re completely still, taking his words in. Did— did he see your face while performing or… Oh heavens, did he get that from social media?

“The fans have dubbed your reaction ‘the only correct one’.” 

You let out a groan, the unwanted reality settling in even more. The only correct reaction — as if you hadn’t already put yourself on display enough tonight. All you can do is bury your face in your hands again. 

“Oh my god,” You mutter, voice muffled a little. “I knew I was watching a little too closely… I didn’t think they’d actually put it on a screen for everyone to notice.” 

“Oh, trust me, love. There was no reality where that wouldn’t get shown.” Heizou chuckles, taking your hands gently and moving them aside to get a good look at your face. “Your expression was… let’s just keep it short. It was quite legendary. Almost had Xiao break his emo persona when we saw the fans’ posts on the drive back…” 

You try and muster up a comeback, but nothing seems to come out. Instead, you just shake your head, feeling warmth blooming in your cheeks once more. “Look, I can’t help that I— “

“That you what?” Heizou prompts, leaning in dangerously close with a mischievous smirk, your hand still in his… His eyes fixed on yours. 

“That I got… carried away.” You pause, exhaling with your entire body. “I mean, how could I not?! You were amazing, babe. I felt as if you were dancing just for me…” 

Heizou’s smirks softens, as he nods slightly. “Perhaps I was,” he says, voice dropping to gentle murmur. “Perhaps I put everything into that dance… just because I knew you were watching.” 

You manage to wiggle your hand out from his grasp. As it slowly rises up his body right to his face, you take his words in. Dancing with so much passion just because you were there huh? You pinch his cheek gently. “Next time, dance like that for me in private.” 

“Oh?” His demeanour matches the one he had a few hours ago, the one which allured you so much. “How about you take me out to dinner first, then?”

It was no secret to the 4NEMO fanbase what your relationship with Kazuha was. You had been clearly dubbed his soulmate ever since you were introduced during one of his vlogs. Despite the initial confusion, they had no choice but to accept your position. Besides, you were an absolute sweetheart. 

Sooner than later, you — a complete outsider to the world of idols — had garnered your own fanbase. Having been dubbed the 7th member of the group, protecting the boys from the ‘6 member curse’ you had become one of the most recurring side characters of 4NEMO daily content. 

Despite being loved by many, some things never changed. Errands being one of them. At the end of the year, they just piled up like crazy, the atrocious weather discouraging you from ever leaving your house to do them in the first place. 

“Come on, Dove…” Kazuha sighed, peeling the blankets from your body. He had promised to accompany you on your mission and preferred to be back in time for his afternoon nap. “We ought to get leave soon.” 

He was met with unintelligible muffled words, most likely telling him to scram off. You, his absolute sweetheart of a partner telling him to fuck off? Quite the blasphemy. Kazuha just couldn’t leave the situation like this. Well… it was time to use brutal strength, wasn’t it? 

In one singular swift motion, he scooped you up, blankets and all. If you didn’t leave the bed on your own, he’d simply take the bed with you. “You know I won’t be able to join you unless we do it today.” Kazuha was right — starting next week the group would begin their winter tour… Leaving you completely to your own devices. You would most certainly procrastinate it then too… 

“I know…” You said, voice laced with sadness. “Am too comfy, thoughhh…” 

If there was one way for Kazuha to take said comfiness away… Simply, It would be putting his muscles to good use. Here was to hoping he didn’t strain any of them. He’d rather not face the wrath of Venti and the group’s management. As he predicted, as soon as he started to spin in place — you still secured in his arms, you started shouting for him to let you go. Your lovely feeling of comfortableness and warmth was long gone… 

“Pleasure to be working with you, Dove.” He lowered you onto the ground, allowing you to take a breather. Anything to make the world not spin. “Get ready, I’ll start working on breakfast.” 

Just as you predicted, doing your errands in the company of your partner boosted your productivity. You managed to get a lot done… with your yearly health checkup as a cherry on top. As a treat and a reward for actually doing your errands, Kazuha was taking you to your favourite cafe as a prize. 

Located in a hidden alleyway, it never had too many customers. The only ones who knew about its existence were coffee connoisseurs or 4NEMO fans, who learned about it from your daily instagram stories.  

As you and Kazuha stepped into the cosy, dimly lit café, the warmth immediately contrasted with the biting cold outside. The soft hum of lo-fi music played in the background as the rich aroma of freshly brewed coffee mixed with maple syrup enveloped the space. It was exactly the little haven you needed after a long day of errands, and Kazuha smiled as he saw the familiar look of contentment on your face.

"You always relax the moment we walk in here," He remarked whispering, brushing a strand of hair away from your face.

"How could I not? This place feels like a big hug," you reply, finding your favourite corner by the window. The barista, a young-looking girl came over to ask for your drinks of choice.  She must’ve been a new hire since neither of you had ever seen her before. She was quickly shushed by her coworker, who decided to take over your order. 

“The usual?” She asked, a smile on her face. 

“Absolutely.” You answered, turning to Kazuha. “What about you, love?” You pointed to the maple latte, something that would fit his tastes to a T. “That sounds like something you’d enjoy.” 

Kazuha shook his head, mentioning to the barista to make his usual order. “Just because my song is titled ‘Maple Leaf Samurai’ doesn’t mean I’m obsessed with maple flavour, silly.” He flicked your head lightly. 

In no time your drinks are delivered by the younger barista. She takes a few good looks at both of you, as well as the drinks that now are on the table. “I hope you enjoy!” She smiles, before heading to go back… 

“Oh, um.” You turn around, sort of curious about the girl. “Did you start working here recently?” You ask, getting her attention. “You don’t have to answer, but I’m simply curious. We’re regulars.” 

She comes closer, moving a chair for her to sit on. “I am! I’ve learned of this place thanks to an idol group I listen to… You know, 4NEMO?” Oh. Did you perhaps open a can of worms? While it was nothing out of the ordinary for the fans to visit this place due to a recommendation you had given, getting a job was quite next level. Regardless if it was you or any other idols good on the girl. Getting a job at a young was so difficult in this part of Teyvat.

“The coffee is really lovely here…” You answer, taking a sip. “The people that recommended you this place must know what they’re saying.” Kazuha is keeping his eyes on you, not wanting to draw any unnecessary attention to himself. Meeting fans was nothing out of the ordinary for him, however, it had always been under the careful gaze of managers and security… 

“The girl, [Y/N], is absolutely my fave. Such a blessed soul, she is…” At this point the barista is just daydreaming, swaying left and right on her chair. Her words put you into a completely still state. You know that there were fans of you in particular, but to have you as their favourite member? 

By this point, Kazuha can no longer hide his laugh. He’s snickering in his seat, as delicately and elegant as possible… but he sure is not discreet. 

“You’re a fan of [Y/N] too?” He chuckles, wiping an imaginary tear from his eye. The barista's eyes widen, as she tilts her head in confusion. 

“Wait, you know of them too?!” She covers her mouth in shock, eyes going from Kazuha to you in a swift motion. “Are you fans of the group?” 

You gave her a sheepish smile, scratching the back of your head. “Yeah… I guess you could tell we know of [Y/N] pretty well.” 

Your partner takes your hand to play with your fingers. His eyes, however, don’t leave the barista. “Well, pretty easy to know of an individual when you’re dating them, no?” He asks, a smile reaching his ears. 

The barista blinks rapidly, before jumping out of her chair. The atrocious creak of the chair moving makes her turn instantly to the counter. She’s apologising to her coworkers and other guests, before turning back. “Oh, my Archons.” She also bowed before the two of you. “— I didn’t realise, I’m so sorry! I should’ve recognised you sooner—“ 

You also stand up, wanting to help her calm down. “It’s not an issue, don’t worry…” Behind the girl’s back, you mouth an apology to your regular barista, nervous for causing such a commotion. You take a deep breath, noticing the young girl is settling down. 

“Sorry… regardless—“ 

“There’s absolutely no need.” Kazuha also stands up, fully in his idol mode. “It’s absolutely fine. It’s quite a refreshing experience, in all honestly.” His smile is filled with so much purity. Oh, your darling angel. 

The sudden meeting ends with a proposition to take a picture. It’s done under the promise of not sharing it on social media. The barista asks specifically for a picture with just you and her — her ult bias. Oh, that is the price for being an unfortunate not real member of a group.

“Mr. Kazuha,” The girl starts. “Be sure to treat your lovely [Y/N] well. There are so many fans ready to fight you for her love and affection.” 

Kazuha chuckles in response. With being one of the more active members, he’s quite aware of the situation at hand. In reality… pretty much one-third of his fans enjoy you more than him. It most certainly fills his heart with both happiness… and relief.

“But of course.” He smiles, hiding his mouth with his hand. “I’ll make sure to fight every single one of you before I hand My Dove over.” 

There was a lot that could go wrong when your relationship was announced to the entirety of the globe, not to mention how bad it was when said information was released by a gossip website. 

You had been fully aware of the consequences of dating Wanderer — his fanbase was labelled as the most toxic one amongst all of 4NEMO idols. What had there been more to say, there had been a lot of people who wished to be in your place.

The sheer amount of emails sent to your agencies demanding for you to break up was something else. The flood of messages, tweets and posts flooded in from fans who had felt entitled to dictate your life had been overbearing on your mind. 

Unfortunately, for you, the biggest and the most unwelcome surprise had been yet to come. After an entire day of you alone had ended off with a call from the manager leading the group you were a member of… They had decided to put you on an indefinite hiatus. The company had chosen to exclude itself from helping your situation in any way… 

Oh, the tears you had shed that night. The comforting words your partner had to speak to try and calm you down. 

Looking back, that was the exact moment you had felt at your worst. From the sheer stupidity of a gossip magazine, which hadn’t even managed to gather reliable material — one you hadn’t had the opportunity to sue from the lack of funds — you had lost everything in one day. The only cherry on top had been seeing your fellow members be given lines in songs that had previously belonged to you. 

Your hiatus, slowly, had turned into a permanent erasure of you from the band. After many deliberations between the higher-ups, you had simply been let go. You had been thrown to the curb, forced to fend for yourself. With the unfortunate resume, the gossip website had given you, not a single rational had wanted to bet on an idol who could be in a scandal. 

To say your mental health had hit rock bottom would be an understatement. 

And yet, a light at the end of a dark tunnel existed. Your partner, despite his sarcastic persona, took your struggles seriously and did his utmost to keep you sane during the said period. That, however, did not mean Wanderer didn’t participate in some bad decision-making himself. He was taking to social media consistently, hurling insults at your previous company.

“Even if we weren’t together, I would’ve done so.” He rolled his eyes when you commented on his behaviour one time. “What sort of fucking company decides to let go of a damn good idol just because they get spam mail, like be for fucking real babe…” 

Wanderer truly became your rock during those times. These unfortunate times didn't do anything but strengthen your bond. What his fans wanted had the exact opposite effect on your relationship. 

As for your ruined career… your partner couldn’t simply leave it as that. There was so much potential left to rot, simply because some people got overwhelmed and decided to take it out on you. He decided to pull all the strings he could, just to get you back on the idol scene — with as much grace as possible. 

Bowing and scraping was not something he preferred to indulge in, but for your sake, it was quite worth it. Over the months before your relationship was revealed you had done so much to get him out of the emotional void he was stuck in… seeing you slowly enter it yourself had been the last thing he wished for. 

Many months later, the stars began to align themselves. Thanks to Wanderer’s recommendations a smaller company had decided to take you in as a solo artist. They were taking quite the gamble with your person, and you had put everything you could to make your debut a success. Your fans, 4NEMO fans, who decided to side with you after your boyfriend’s campaign… they all had done everything to make it as profitable as possible. 

To say you did a marvellous job would not simply be enough. Your perception was shifting ever so slightly with more critics complimenting the work you had done. Being your fan was no longer something to hide. 

With the sudden throwback into stardom, one group of people have made themselves known once more… The paparazzi — ones that also were working for the gossip page that was kinda sorta behind your initial downfall. 

You were simply leaving the company after a morning filled with mornings, when out of nowhere you were met with a magnitude of flashes. With a phone in your hand, you had simply done the first thing that came to mind. And well, it was to cover yourself with it. Oh, if only you didn’t forget what you had in your case — a pretty, unreleased photocard of your partner was there… All for people’s glory. 

What a way to make your return. Another Wanderer-related scandal to greet you, just as your career began to take off once more. 

“Holy fuck, you really have the worst luck, babe,” Wanderer says as you step into your shared apartment. You texted him about the situation on your way back, seeking his advice. “Did management get back to you?”  

You sink into the cough, your head landing right into his lap. “They say they don’t mind… But I’m still nervous.” Despite their reassurance, your experience has taught you no company wants to deal with scandals. Especially a small one like the one you currently work at. 

“They better fucking not, ” He replies, his finger threading through your hair as he caresses your scalp. “Especially after what I have saved in my drafts on instagram.” He is muttering to himself, talking about a scandal of a lifetime… 

It’s not like you’re paying attention to whatever he’s speaking of. You’re far too comfortable and far too anxious to do so. 

It wasn’t long before you discovered the ‘scandal’ your partner decided to create. You open social media to find his latest post — a playful selfie with his phone in the frame, sporting a cute photo card of yours in his case. It mirrors the exact scene you were photographed earlier that day. And of course, its cation was quintessential Wanderer: 

‘You bitches thought you got rid of my partner? Nah, think again. It might do you good.” 

You couldn’t help but let out a breathless laugh mixed with disbelief. Dearest heavens, this was quite a way to wake up! Your heart raced, not just from the surprise, but from the sheer magnitude of his words.

But the reaction come quickly, as expected. Wanderer’s phone starts buzzing with calls from 4NEMO's management, ready to scold him for pulling such a risky move. You can almost hear their collective sighs of exasperation through the line.

Yet, as you sit there, staring at the screen, a warmth spreads through you. There is something undeniably attractive about how he puts himself on the line for your career and mental health. It was such a bold statement - one that showed he was willing to face the backlash just to support you. 

date of posting — october 28th 2024

[oatface]

Hi there

Yesterday I had nothing to do, and I noticed that the nine-colored deer and skykid incapacitate the krill in three hits. I decided to calculate how strong each blow was, they seemed to be the same. It turns out that in order to hit a krill with a force that would destroy it, it must be immediately like these three hits.

I took VERY APPROXIMATE values ​​to make it at least a little easier to count. I'm not a physicist, and we haven't taught this subject for two years. Of course I could be wrong about many things. I took the height and weight of the skykid as 150 centimeters and 45 kilos (our calculation is in kilograms, not pounds, so I’m sorry if this is not clear to you)

This was done purely for fun and to theorize, so please, don't take it seriously.

(also sorry for the mistakes in english, I don't speak it)

Upd: Oh, I see that this is becoming popular, I wish I could say that I am also an artist!

[olgiisworld]

The interview // Choi Seungcheol

summary; you and Seungcheol have been a public couple on the media, both of you big artists, him being the leader of the group named Seventeen. Things have been a little rough lately due to lack of communication. You're invited to talk on a podcast about your recent achievements, but when your personal life is mentioned as a topic, you get bitter, and you don't manage to hide it. But how about the consequences?

Y/n x Seungcheol of Seventeen, genre: angst, frustration and unfairness with a hint of fluff in the end.

Word Count; 4,476 (oopsie)

Warnings; swearing

note; it took me months to finish this (mostly because of loss of inspiration, so you might notice inconsistency), but it's nothing special. Although you might like it :) I'd love to see comments! thank you for your support on my Beomgyu one-shot <3 smoochies ♡

it's been a while i've felt like shit. it's been a while i've felt more welcome to talk to the wall than talking to Seungcheol.

talking to Seungcheol seemed so hard for some reason. all we've been doing is fighting or ignoring each other. and that would be okay, if we didn't have each other's house keys.

it is hard to maintain a relationship that happened to go public, when none of you planned it. both me and Seungcheol being public figures really sat bad, especially with his constant need of privacy.

but it is hard. we can't just not leave the house.

that's mostly the reason we've been fighting.

everyday was a circle.

i return back to his apartment, where we had a silent agreement to meet everyday after work. my body and mind exhausted from all the work i've put in the studio. frustration seeping through my body, because of the disagreements i've had with the rest of my colleagues. concern, pain, fatigue, everything coming together, creating this unpleasant expression on my face. i know i seem cold.

but he just sits there. slumped on his couch. eyes fixed on the familiar black box. he cares enough to say "hey, how's work?", but not enough to ask about how I am. so i just shrug my shoulders and walk past him.

that's my life with my 'oh-so-wanted' boyfriend.

i'm a starved woman.

starved from love, from affection, from tenderness, from touch.

just touch.

his touch.

he hasn't touched me in god knows how long. all i get are dead kisses.

the repetition of each day made me feel angry, frustrated, pained, disappointed. made me feel like i was not worthy of him.

and the worst thing is that i cannot communicate my thoughts with the person i love.

he seems so stressed with his upcoming tour, that giving him one more reason to yell will only break him.

so i suffered in silence.

last week's fight was interesting.

a photo of us shopping together started making its way around social media. Seungcheol hated social media. and we both looked quite miserable in the photos, but i don't know if he noticed.

he yelled at me for not being careful enough.

apparently, i was the reason they saw us and they took those fucking pictures. like i enjoy being on strangers' camera rolls.

and i yelled back.

and we fought.

again.

damn it.

i cried so hard and he didn't even try to comfort me.

he didn't even touch me.

he didn't.

he didn't try to reach out.

he wouldn't even touch my hand by mistake.

i was so fed up.

so fed up of not feeling desired by the only person i loved..

the week passed, the same circle repeating itself.

i started going back to my house after work. Seungcheol didn't even try to ask why. he only said "i get that you might need space".

I am the one who needs the space?

i didn't even argue back. i knew where this was going and i felt like i was finally ready.

today, i had an interview.

nothing huge, just a small podcast. friendly podcast.

i wore comfortable clothes and hid my fatigue behind foundation and blush. i was okay with pretending like everything was fine.

it only broke my heart that people assumed "i am the happiest i've ever been". because people can only make assumptions. people only see the pictures. people only see the smiles, the kisses. or even the fatigue. but, "oh, everything is okay, she's got her man".

but what about Seuncheol?

people saw that he was stressed. people saw that he's probably not happy. people really had the audacity to say "i'm not good enough for him"!

like, fuck they know? they know nothing

and he never said anything. he never addressed those comments.

why?

because he believes that "what people say are bullshit"

but it sounded more like i'm not worth a small clarification.

i grabbed my keys and phone, closed my door and headed to the podcast set up.

everything was really friendly.

Alex, a familiar face of mine, would host the show.

i've happened to meet her before, at after-parties and gatherings, so we had talked before. everything was comfortable.

the podcast started shortly after and the talk was great. we also had a drink and a girls' talk that actually helped me take my mind off of my stress.

at one point, she turned to look at me when i sipped a little of my drink.

"so, um, i just.. i wanted to ask a few things, i know you don't really talk about your personal life, and that's why the questions are quite.. generic? you know.. of course, you can tell me to stop"

i felt some concern wash over me, as to what the consequences of this conversation could be. but i shrugged it off with a soft chuckle as i fixed my posture, leaning a little closer to the microphone.

"no, don't worry about it, shoot"

she smiled and read the notes of her phone, taking a quick sip of her drink as well.

''so, what is it like to be in a relationship?"

she looked at me with a small smile.

and all i could do was huff, trying to find an adequate answer.

i leaned back to the microphone.

"honestly? really hard"

Alex shot an eyebrow up in surprise.

"really? why, girl? is it hard for two great artists to live up to everyone's expectations?''

she chuckled and i just shook my head in thought.

i tried to put my thoughts in a row. it's hard to express everything i feel to someone after being so.. alone.

but i felt frustrated and fed up at the moment.

i fidgeted a little on my seat.

"i don't know.. it's not like there are no hardships in a relationship anyway.. it's just.. you can't find a way out of a hardship without communication, or respect. or understanding. there are many elements that have to balance out the hardships of a relationship, you know? at least that's how i view it"

i shrugged, my implication clear.

Alex caught my glimpse.

she nodded and looked at her phone shortly.

"that is really interesting, but everything can work out with love and patience"

i nodded, my smile a little bitter

"i guess.. i can't really tell you"

she tried to play it off with a small chuckle and i forced a smile

"i know you guys don't talk about your relationship, and privacy request is respected. but, not even posting moments on social media.. that's amazing. i actually admire that. it shows how strong your bond can be."

i chuckled, bitterness lingering on my laugh.

"not really. i wouldn't mind posting a picture or two. privacy is very much needed, but it's not like we have something to hide, or something to be so private about.. anyway, i really don't think it's that serious. but everyone has their own point of view."

she nodded, not wanting to pry on the matter, since she noticed my uneasiness.

she read of her notes again.

"does he inspire you to write?'

the question felt like a stab to the heart.

i couldn't say 'he used to'

and i couldn't say 'no' either

but i didn't want to lie.

i took a deep breath, trying to collect my words. i leaned on the microphone one more time.

"i don't really get inspired by real people.. mostly fictional characters, fictional situations.. nothing real. i used to find material from real life but.. i guess, my style changed"

i shrugged and forced a chuckle, trying to shake the feeling off.

Alex nodded and put a smile on her face.

"alright then, let's move on.."

i let out a breath i didn't even know i was holding. i took a sip of my drink, feeling quite relieved that we moved on from that topic.

the rest of the podcast went great, but i was tired and i couldn't wait for it to end.

as soon as we were done, i shook hands with Alex, she informed me about the slight editing she wanted to do, she thanked me and i thanked her back. she said that the episode would be out by the end of the week. i smiled and thanked her for having me. and i left.

i returned to my miserable apartment. the silence defeaning.

i hadn't seen Seungcheol in a week, but he didn't really seem to care.

i just left my shoes and coat next to the couch. i had lost my appetite completely.

i sat on the couch and took my phone in my hand.

i checked some of my messages and i saw Seungcheol's name among the notifications.

'Hey, is everything okay'

again.

not how I am. not if I am okay.

he really didn't give a damn about me.

i texted back a 'fine, no worries' and threw my phone at the end of the couch.

i started crying.

the only thing that comforted me was the sound of my own crying.

i hugged my arms around me and fell back on the couch. i was lost. i needed navigation. and he couldn't fucking give it to me.

[...]

Friday.

i headed back to my car after a long exhausting session at the studio. once i fastened my seatbelt, i grabbed my phone to check on some missed calls. a notification came in, saying that my podcast with Alex was out. i smiled excitedly, and turned it on to listen on my way back home. i texted her shortly and i threw my phone next to my driver's seat. i just concentrated on the road, the podcast being a pleasant background sound.

the drive back home was short, sadly. i just picked up my stuff, my phone still playing the podcast, as i walked back to my door.

i walked in, throwing my stuff on the couch, taking off my shoes and running to the kitchen, to grab some water.

when i walked in, i saw Seungcheol leaned against the counter, arms crossed on his chest, expression serious to mad.

my whole face went white when i saw him.

"fuck! you scared me.. what are you doing here?"

i was so shocked he was in my kitchen, probably more than i should, considering that he is my boyfriend.

he took a deep breath before i heard his voice.

"what the fuck? seriously. you're the one who's shocked here."

i looked around, confused by his words. i shrugged my shoulders.

"i guess.. i don't usually find you hiding in my house.. especially after not seeing you for a whole week.."

he scoffed. he didn't leave me any room for reaction.

"and you haven't even tried to reach out for a whole week.. but i guess, that's okay. relationships don't work without communication, like you said."

his words confused me even more.

i realized that what he quoted were my words on Alex's podcast. Now everything made sense.

i walked a little closer.

''are you seriously mad about this bullshit?''

his eyes widened

"bullshit? you say that calling me out is bullshit? telling EVEYONE how you feel, except from me, bullshit?''

my own eyes widened at his words

"what?"

his lips narrowed down, his madness more visible.

"what do you fucking mean with what? you literally let every fucking idiot know what's going on between us!"

he yelled

i looked at him in shock before processing to react with a scoff

"are you serious? what, how? by telling people that i'm having hardships in my relationship?"

he took a step closer

"you could have told me! me! not everyone! making everyone believe that we suffer!"

my head tilted in pure curiosity.

"which.. we don't?''

i asked, so simply.

he looked at me, his fingers running through his hair.

"that's not the point, the point is that you let everyone-"

i couldn't bear to listen so i yelled back

"i thought you didn't give a shit about what everyone thinks! you're such a hypocrite!"

he looked at me in shock

his eyes filled with disappointment.

"you literally implied that i don't love you."

my own eyes filled with anger and hurt.

"what do you fucking mean? you mean to tell me that i'm wrong? that everything is fine? that we don't fight every single time we try to talk? that we communicate just perfectly? that you don't ignore me? that you don't act like i am a stranger? no, i'm sorry, my mistake. you would touch a stranger, even if it was a fucking accident!"

he stayed there, in front of me, his face emotionless. he just heard what i said. or dogded my words, either way, he reacted the same.

"you implied that i don't fucking love you."

at this point, i felt helpless. fed up. rock-bottom. i just shook my head and let my tears slip from my eyes.

"Seungcheol, you don't love me. and i don't care. i have accepted it."

he cracked a hint of emotion, as he lightly flinched

"what are you even saying?"

i wiped my tears quickly.

"that you're a coward. that's what i'm saying."

he took a step closer, tilting his head confused.

"how am I a coward? you're the one who went and told everyone what we're going through! and you didn't even bother to tell ME something!"

i couldn't listen, i couldn't just stand there and listen.

I let out a cynical chuckle.

"and I thought you didn't even bother to watch my interviews.. guess i'm wrong"

I wiped my tears.

he seemed even more mad.

"of course I watch your stuff, but even if I didn't want to, everyone has been sending me this stupid podcast since it came out! everyone found a chance to make fun of me!"

i replied with the same anger.

"well, sorry, but you had to take a taste of your own medicine! do you even know what people say about us online?! do you? do you know what it's like to read that I'm not good enough for you, that I don't deserve you? do you even know how everyone fucking praises you, but all of them downgrade me? do you, Seungcheol? I've been living like this for the past 1 year and I never, ever complained to you about it. Because you always kept saying that YOU don't give a fuck about what people say! so fuck you, Cheol!"

my tears were running like a river at this point, but the mad expression on his face was driving me insane. his eyebrows relaxed a bit.

I made a move to leave, not wanting to have another fight. but, something I wouldn't expect, he grabbed my wrist and stopped me.

i pulled my hand away.

"no! don't you fucking dare touch me now! I've had enough! enough! you hear me? you're so cheap! you're embarrassed that everyone knows about your relationship not working, but you don't even care enough to fix this mess! fucking coward.."

he closed his eyes and took a deep breath, before he grabbed my wrist again.

he pulled me closer.

"I'm not a coward! I'm just.. stressed! really fucking stressed! and I know that you don't care-"

I stopped him.

"i don't care? I don't care?! are you stupid?!"

he tightened his grip on my wrist.

"how do you care?! you care and you don't even call me for a week? you care, but you don't tell me what's bothering you? instead, you go and talk about our problems in a podcast?"

i took a deep breath and looked at him, trying to remain calm.

"do you understand that it's easier to talk to the wall than it is talking to you?"

he swallowed down my words.

"what the fuck, y/n?"

i let out a deep breath.

i was on the verge of a mental breakdown, feeling like this conversation is the repetition of pointless yelling and arguments that were better understood by a wall.

i just shook my head, my expression full of disappointment.

"Seungcheol, i can't do this anymore."

his expression softened and he let go of my wrist, pulling his own hand back hesitantly.

his voice almost scared.

"what do you mean?"

i sighed softly, not able to hold back anymore. it was now or never. and i, unlike him, was not a coward. it was time to finally do it.

"it's not working... it can't.. it can't work... between us.."

my expectations were simple. him getting sad and disappointed or him not even caring enough to have a reaction. i surely not expected him to get mad at me, like he did.

"and you call me a coward?"

i looked at him confused. i didn't even find the chance to talk before he interrupted me.

"you're telling me that it's easier to talk to a wall, you go all out about me in a podcast, you don't text, you don't call, you don't care. and now you're breaking up with me? so, you actually don't love me."

i heard his words carefully before rolling my eyes in frustration, my reaction getting him more mad and he threw his hands in the air.

"love is not enough to hold a whole relationship up, okay-"

he yelled back, interrupting me.

"bullshit! and you know it! i love you, and i don't care if you can't see it, i care that i feel it though!"

my eyes widened slightly in shock but i managed to yell back.

"why don't you touch me?! why do you ignore me?! what have i done to you, how can you say that you love me?!"

he looked at me, his eyes mirroring the same frustration as mine did. but there was something else. the frustration was not towards me, it was towards himself.

"I don't know! i don't know! i don't know..."

his voice softened at the last 'i don't know', and i remained silent since he seemed to have a lot more to say. he let out a small sigh.

"I've been really really really stressed. really stressed. we're on the verge of canceling a world tour, our manager keeps telling us that he wants to quit, and we've lost a lot of money because of a merch company that happened to be frauds."

my mouth opened in shock at his confession.

Seungcheol never told me about any of these.

i was trying to find a reaction but i couldn't find it. so he talked instead.

"and you breaking up with me is the cherry on top. i know that i can't defend myself, and i won't sound pathetic enough to beg you to stay. if you want to leave me, it's fine. for you. i can't tie you down anyway."

his voice came out small, weak, pathetic, like he was scared to be perceived.

i managed to get my voice out.

"why didn't you say anything?"

he looked into my eyes, dead serious as he quoted me.

"do you understand that it's easier to talk to the wall than it is talking to you?"

i clenched my jaw, feeling anger instead of sympathy building up. i hit his chest, without thinking much, but he didn't even flinch. his eyes simply pierced through me.

"you're not capable of even admitting that you need me? really? i hate you!"

i felt fed up with my own self, pathetic with how miserable i was and felt. i was sad. my whole life was sad. i built a whole career that seemed to be drowning me. and my words didn't even shake his poker face.

tears streamed down my face and i couldn't control my sobs. even if i sounded pathetic, at least i was honest to my feelings.

i knew i was the reason we couldn't communicate now that we found a chance, but i was feeling too depressed to even try it.

there had been many chances in the past, and since nothing worked, this wouldn't work either. i simply cried.

he looked down for a moment, the straight line of his lips unwavering. he took a deep breath, sighing softly through his nose. i put a few strands of my hair behind my ear, while my tears were falling down like a waterfall.

i wiped as many as i could.

i knew that nothing could shake or top the tension my three simple words just created.

or at least that's what i thought, before he grabbed my chin and he kissed me.

my crying eyes opened in shock, his hand holding my lips close as his other arm creeped around me, pulling me into his embrace. the shock wouldn't let me kiss back, and i felt like he used my vulnerability to his advantage.

i felt frustrated, confused, and i pulled my head back since he held me close by my waist, trapping my hands on his chest, the feeling both new and familiar.

"i said i hate you!"

"oh shut up.."

he simply replied before pulling me back into a kiss, a hundred times more passionate than the first one. it was the first time in months that he kissed me with so much emotion. i could feel it. i could feel that he meant it. his other arm wrapped around me as well and he held me close, months after our last hug. and his embrace was so warm and nostalgic. my mind drifted to the memories of our first dates and my lips started moving against his, by instict.

my hands gently tugged on his shirt, the tears in my eyes stopping.

i felt warm.

and i hadn't felt warm like this since forever.

he kissed me with so much meaning and passion, like i would disappear if he'd let go..

after a moment, his lips moved to my jawline, placing gentle kisses along the line of it towards the spot below my ear. he placed soft kisses on my neck and his hands moved up and down my back, touching me gently. re-exploring me.

opening old wounds.

my breath became a little heavier as my mind traveled with his touch. the feeling was so new, yet so familiar to me.

i wasn't sure of what to say, how to talk.

he touched me after god knows how long.

i heard his voice, his breath tingling my neck.

"i'm so stupid.."

he simply said, but i didn't have an answer. not an an argument. he placed soft kisses on my neck, his hands traveling down my body.

"i need you so bad.. i need all of you.. in my life, forever, and right now.."

he whispered, sending chills down my spine. i haven't heard him talk like that, probably never.

"i need you right now, i love you.. i love you so much.."

he kissed my lips, his words felt like heavy prayers.

i looked into his eyes, feeling the vulnerability reaching the ceiling.

he kissed my face gently, placing a strand of hair behind my ear before cupping my cheek.

"you're the only tranquilizer i'll ever need.. i'm so sorry for never seeing it.."

he kissed my lips gently again.

i was so lost that words wouldn't even dare to come out my mouth.

but he didn't expect anything from me. he simply poured his heart out, like he hadn't done in months.

"i've been so stressed out and closed off that i didn't realize what i was doing to the only person that could help me."

his hands explored my body like he was searching for undiscovered spots.

my mouth formed a soft pout, my eyes glistening.

he pressed another soft kiss on my pout.

"baby, i'm sorry. i love you. and i'm a dick that doesn't deserve you. and i know it. i'll respect your choice to leave me."

he pressed a kiss on my cheek like a final goodbye and he softly unwrapped his arms from my body, but my hands grabbed them, almost like an instict, and i wrapped them around me again.

i kissed his lips a little more aggressively than expected by the both of us actually, and my hands cupped his cheeks. he kissed me back, without restraints.

my hands ran through his hair, softly tugging on his locks.

i broke the kiss for a breath and i talked.

"you're so stupid"

he nodded quickly, feeling breathless.

"yes, i am"

i kissed him again and i mumbled against his lips

"so stupid"

he moved his lips with more hunger as he repeated

"so so stupid"

i pulled back briefly, my chest carrying my heavy breaths, my fingers tracing the softness of his hair, his skin, leaving fire to their wake. my eyes locked in his.

i shook my head gently, processing the overwhelming emotion in my heart. i finally managed to express it.

"i love you, but you hurt me so bad"

i saw his face twisting with guilt. i knew he wasn't in a better position with all the stress he carried, but Seungcheol never meant harm. he was always a good guy. that doesn't justify his actions and i knew that, but i felt every crumb of love for him resurrecting, just because of his touch.

he spoke softly, his hands gripping on my skin.

"i'm so sorry.. i'm so so sorry.. i'll respect it if you want to leave me.."

i covered his mouth quickly, his eyes looking into mine with surpise. i sniffled softly before talking.

"i won't leave, you idiot"

he pulled my hand down, his expression more surprised and confused.

"but why?"

i sniffled again, a hint of smile that hasn't appeared on my face in months made its way on my lips.

"because i've made a mental promise to myself. i'm always by your side when you need me."

his expression turned into a melted one, his lips finding my cheek and leaving a couple of soft, loving kisses.

"i love you. i'm so sorry.''

he spoke softly, resting his forehead in mine.

i sighed softly through my nose, my emotions twirling inside of me like crazy.

"i love you too."

i added, and i closed my eyes.

he did the same.

at that time, everything felt a little more sure than usual. i clinged to that hint of hope he expressed through his words of affirmation.

my hand caressed his back softly.

why does every relationship have to go through a rough patch that leaves a part of you dead right after? you know it won't be the same. the only thing that gives you hope is the love inside you that can't die down. and i felt it, in his hug. i felt a little more sure.

[morlock-holmes]

Okay, guys, after reading a post by @centrally-unplanned I just took that ACX "AI Turing Test" that Scott Alexander did, and I am screaming, as the kids used to say.

You guys are way, way overthinking this.

I thought I would do better than average, and I guess I did; excluding three pictures I had seen before, I got 31/46 correct.

Not great if you're taking the SAT, but I feel like if I could call a roulette spin correctly 2 times out of 3 I could clean up in Vegas.

So, what is the secret of my amazing, D+ performance?

You have to look at the use of color and composition as tools to draw the eye to points of interest.

AI is really bad at this, when left to its own devices.

For example, here:

Part of the reason to suspect that this is AI is the "AI house style" and the bad hands that I literally only noticed right this exact second as I was typing this sentence. Even if the hands were rendered correctly, I would still clock this as AI.

The focal point of this piece ought to be the face of the woman and the little dragon she is looking at (Just noticed the dragon's wings don't match up either), but take off your glasses or squint at this for a second:

Your eye is being drawn by the bright gold sparkles on the lower right side of the piece. That particular bright gold is only in that spot on the image, but there's no reason to look there, it's just an upper arm and an elbow. The bright light source highlighting the woman's horn separates it out as a point of interest.

Meanwhile, the weird aurora streaming out of the woman's face on the left side means that it is blending in with the background.

In other words, the way the image is composed, and the subject matter suggest that your eye should be drawn here:

But the use of color suggests that you should look here:

That's a senseless place to draw the eye towards! It would be a really weird mistake for a human to make! In fact, I think there's a strong argument that the really close cropped picture of the face of the character is a strong improvement. It's still not a particularly good composition, but at least the color contrast now draws the eye to the proper points.

In fact, I would say that a good reason for my performance not being even better was this alarming statement at the start of the test:

I've tried to crop some pictures of both types into unusual shapes, so it won't be as easy as "everything that's in DALL-E's default aspect ratio is AI".

Uh...

So how about this one:

This is a lot better anatomically and in terms of the use of color and light to draw the eye towards sensible parts of the painting. The lighting makes pretty good sense in terms of coming from a particular direction and it also draws the eye to effectively to the face and the outstretched hand of the figure.

It's also a really flat and meaningless composition and subject matter that no renaissance artist would have chosen. What is this angel doing, exactly? Our eye is drawn to the face and hand, and the figure is looking off towards the left side, at, uh, what exactly?

But then I thought, "Well, maybe Scott chopped out a giant chunk of the picture, and this is just a detail from, like, the lower right eighth of some giant painting with three other figures that makes total sense"

This makes sense as a piece of a larger human made artwork, but if you tell me, "Nope, that's the whole thing and this is the original, un-cropped picture" I'd go, "Oh, AI, obviously.

All of the ones I had trouble with were AI art with good composition and use of color, and human ones with bad composition and use of color. For example, this one:

This has three solid points of interest arranged in an interesting relationship with different colors to block them out. I'd say the biggest tells are that the astronauts' feet are out of frame, which is a weird choice, and looking closely now, the landscape and smoke immediately to the right of the ship don't really make sense.

But again; I had to think, "Maybe Scott just cropped it weird and they had feet in the original picture."

Here's another problem:

StableDiffusion being bad at composition is such a known problem that there are a variety of tools which a person can use to manually block out the composition. In fact, let me try something.

I popped open Krita (Which now has a StableDiffusion plugin) and after literally dozens of generations and a couple of different models I landed on ZavyChromaXL with the following prompt:

concept art of two astronauts walking towards a spaceship on an alien planet, with a giant moon in th background, artstation, classic scifi, book cover

And this was the best I could do:

Not great, but Krita has a tool that lets you break an image into regions which each have different prompts, so I quickly blocked something out:

Each of those color blobs has a different part of the prompt, so the green region has "futuristic astronauts" the blue is the spaceship, the orange is the moon, grey is the ground and pink is the sky, which gives us:

Still way too much, so we can use Krita's adaptive patch tool and AI object removal to get:

I'm not saying it's high art, or even any good, but it's better than the stuff I was getting from a pure prompt, because a human did the composition.

But it's still so dominated by AI processes that it's fair to call it "AI Art".

Which makes me wonder how many of the AI pictures I called out as human made because one of the traits I was looking for, good composition, was in fact, actually made by a human.

[donut251155]

The "Yugi twins situation" is NOT incestuous

I'll just analyze stuff people used to "prove" the opposite of this, as someone with a close (PLATONIC!!!) relationship with a sibling

I'll just get straight to the point

This scene is NOT incestuous. They hadn't seen each other for DECADES, it makes sense that Tsukasa reached out to touch Amane - usually if you can't believe you're seeing someone you reach for their face, no? And he just moved his head up (+ the つ (translated as "rub" could just be his hand moving and could be a translation error. Like the "ah…" from Amane, he says "つー" (Tsu) which would've probably been him calling out for Tsukasa)

Also Amane was blushing because he WAS ABOUT TO FUCKING CRY??? IT'S NORMAL TO GET RED WHEN YOU CRY??? That's basic knowledge I fear

He'd seen his brother after AGES, AFTER HE KILLED HIM. I WOULD'VE HAVE CRIED TOO IF I WERE HIM Y'ALL HE'S CRUSHED BY GUILT, GRIEF AND IS HAPPY TO SEE HIS BROTHER AGAIN

I also think that if the scene was supposed to have some incestuous undertones, Tsukasa wouldn't have moved his thumb back.

Someone said this

I believe it doesn't have incestuous undertones for three reasons:

1. He had a dreamy and hopeful face in both cases. Usually, when characters dream of doing anything, even eating a cake or something like that, the artist adds blush to make the desire stronger. Tsukasa's desires were just having fun with his brother at a festival, something COMPLETELY PLATONIC, and knowing that his brother genuinely cares about him (another COMPLETELY PLATONIC thing driven by a sense of insecurity that he got because of how grumpy Amane was while sick. He wanted to hear his brother say "I love you" (PLATONICALLY) for the last time. It's less ambiguous in the Italian version because it's "Amane, tu mi vuoi bene?" which can only be seen as platonic (voler bene is platonic, amare romantic))

2. He looks cuter blushing. He's a child, children are supposed to be cute. He looks depressed without the blush in the first image 💀💀

See? He's cuter with the blush

3. He blushes for like 90% of the time. It makes him cuter, more childlike, he's FOUR YEARS OLD. The blush disappears when the drawing is too small for it to be added, when he's supposed to be confused, scary/creepy or serious.

This part fucking hell. Y'all do not know how four year olds think, do you?? Let me enlighten you

To the four year old Tsukasa, you either love or hate someone. No in between. He isn't talking about romantic love, he's talking about caring about someone, usually deeply. He means the platonic kind of love, it's all he knows. Nene reacted that way because she's 15, to her "love" is the romantic kind of love and she's in love with Hanako, same with Kou - they're teenagers who learnt that romantic and platonic love are different. Tsukasa doesn't know. He loves Amane in a platonic, brotherly way and thinks Nene loves his brother in the same exact way, like every other 4 year old would've assumed

(I reached the max of images :(( I meant the part where Tsukasa asks Nene if she loves Amane and says they're the same after she says she does, her mistaking it as romantic love and him taking it as platonic. Mb guys I'm new to Tumblr)

For the pose where the early manga showed us how Amane supposedly killed Tsukasa: it's not suggestive in any way. It just looks like Amane pushed Tsukasa down, stabbed him and that his knees gave out after he noticed he actually did what he did because of the wave of guilt and grief he felt (he even dropped the knife)

That's all I can think of atm :D

If you have any questions about this, ask ahead and I'll answer them!! I'm ready to answer

And sorry if I sounded a bit pissed off, but I am. I'm so sick of people misunderstanding sibling love lolol if you ship them go fuck yourself and do not talk to me, do not even breathe the same air as me I hate you and you're a disappointment to humanity

[otomehoneyybearr]

Ikemen Prince 4th Anniversary Eve

Gilbert & Azel: The Relationship Unbeknownst to Anyone

Somewhere on a certain day—

Gilbert: "---I've always wondered if the conqueror beast and the sacred beast were one in the same."

Gilbert: "Both being evils of the world that control people and manipulate them as they please."

Azel: "I agree with the evil part. You and I would be better off not existing."

Azel: "We are both nuisances to the world, after all."

Gilbert: "Should we die together then?"

Azel: "You mean kill each other."

Gilbert: "That’s right."

Azel: "Disgusting."

Gilbert: "Agreed."

Azel: "So?"

Gilbert: "Hehe, no need to rush. I've went through the trouble of preparing food and drinks, so why not enjoy it first?"

Azel: "I'm having alcohol, while you're having water?"

Gilbert: "Oh, so you noticed."

Azel: "I am a god, after all."

Gilbert: "More like a con-artist, right?"

Azel: "That's another way to put it."

Gilbert: "Haha, you're not denying it."

Azel: "The title isn't that important."

Gilbert: "Really? I thought you’d be particular about it."

Azel: "Not at all. At least with you, being god or con-artist doesn't matter."

Azel: "I'm just a 'nuisance’ in the end, aren't I?"

Gilbert: "So you realized that."

Azel: "Just how many times do you think I've confiscated the weapons you smuggled into my country?"

Azel: "Can't you stop that? It's increasing my overtime and it's annoying."

Gilbert: "It only takes time because you carefully disassemble the firearms and send them back each time."

Gilbert: "Is that your hobby or something?"

Azel: "Do you want to be called a carefree rich boy?"

Gilbert: "Oh, so it was actually a declaration of war."

Azel: "If you understand that much, then don't bother asking. Tanzanite is the land of the gods,”

Azel: "So you should’ve realized by now that your spies and schemes are powerless in my sacred domain."

Gilbert: "Hmm, that's troublesome."

Gilbert: "It seems I miscalculated how difficult 'cleaning up' Tanzanite would be."

Gilbert: "Or perhaps I should say I underestimated you."

Gilbert: "Tanzanite has the lowest return rate for spies among the major countries."

Gilbert: "Currently you’re the only one from your country that's noticed my plans—No, more like, you're the only one at all."

Gilbert: "I thought that I could gather some information from you by sharing a drink, but..."

Gilbert: "You're quite hard to read. Is this what a god is like?"

Azel: "Donations are always welcome."

Gilbert: "Unfortunately for you, I only believe in myself."

Azel: "I figured as much. Spending time on you could be considered a waste."

Azel: "...Though a free meal does have its value."

Gilbert: "Haha, if you get along with me, there might be even better things in store for you."

Azel: "Not happening."

Gilbert: "Oh, that was an immediate answer. Despite us being somewhat similar."

Azel: "That's just slander."

Azel: "I don't distrust human potential as much as you do."

Azel: "Humanity doesn't need gods or beasts."

Gilbert: "...Is that so?"

Azel: "Want to bet?"

Gilbert: "Sure, sounds interesting."

Gilbert: "Your schemes are like mirages, vague and hard to grasp, but..."

Gilbert: "I'll bet on the foolishness of humans."

Azel: "Then I'll bet the opposite."

Azel: "I'll bet on the potential of humans."

Azel: "They have the ability to cleanse themselves. They can recognize and atone for their mistakes."

Azel: "Make sure to prepare your money, Disaster boy."

Gilbert: "You too."

Some little notes I had:

*: There's a possibility of Azel being older than Gilbert, seeing as he would attach things like (ーくん)-kun or (ーちゃん)-chan to the nicknames he gave Gilbert…That or Azel's was just trying to antagonize him.

**: Alternative interpretation of the nickname carefree rich boy could be 'airheaded/thoughtless young master'

***: Alternative interpretation of the nickname (厄災くん or yakusai-kun)Disaster boy could be 'Mr. Calamity'

I wasn't sure which of these interpretations would fit Azel's dialogue more, so I wanted to leave these notes so that everyone can get a general sense of the word/nickname.

Master List

▼・ᴥ・▼

[gyuswhore]

How to Win Hearts for Dummies (the answer is lattes and banana bread)

Idol!mingyu x makeup-artist!reader

genre: fluff, angst, one sided pining

warnings: slow burn, swearing, shitty bosses, some descriptions of anxiety and breakdowns, one sided pining, reader has issues opening up (lmk if there's anything else)

13.4k words (im sorry)

plot: This apprenticeship was taking a toll on your self control in the worst possible way. Walking in 8 months ago, a resignation from your corporate job and a dream in your pocket, you made an oath to stay focused on the goal at hand and to enjoy what you did for a living for once; makeup. Except, your still stuck as an apprentice with a mentor that has no inclination for your growth.

And you’re a little bit in love with your client.

masterlist

(A/N): repost bc Tumblr wouldn’t show it in the tags!!! Thank you for clicking on this clonking my pants as I hit post ! I started working on this at the beginning of exam season and I’m posting it the night before my last exam 🥲 what a full circle moment. Also pls excuse any inconsistencies or grammatical errors, my beta reader, unlike me, actually cares ab her grades and is in the beginning of exam season and therefore will not be able to read through this monstrosity for a while lmao. Enjoy hehe

Edit: I’ve just realised how many mistakes and grammatical errors I’ve made throughout the fic, serves me right for proofreading at 3 AM after a stats exam. I’ll try to fix them all asap!!! 

The camera goes off again with a distinct click. And again. And again. And again.

The camera had gone off innumerable times since Mingyu walked out in another themed ensemble, and you were there, watching, through all of it.

You watched as he kept switching positions, rotating his body and his head. Morphing his features into more variations of dazed and serious than you thought could ever exist.

Standing there, at the portable table behind the main setup, attempting to clean a lip brush that would be needed soon when the inevitable call for-

“Makeup over here! We’re taking 5”

You note your sluggish pace as you snap out of your daze and scrubbing harder with the removal cloth. Snapping your head down, hoping nobody noticed your incessant heart eyes, you realize you were in trouble now.

‘Y/n, you’ve been cleaning that brush since I left 10 minutes ago!’ The senior makeup artist snapped.

You finish up the brush in hand and quickly hand her what she needs, not before rummaging for the tiny pot of lip product you absent-mindedly packed away.

‘Sorry, really sorry’ you choke out before she leaves in her badly concealed irritated expression. You see her make a beeline for a waiting Mingyu, who adorably squats for the woman so she has better access.

This apprenticeship was taking a toll on your self control in the worst possible way. Walking in 8 months ago, a resignation from your corporate job and a dream in your pocket, you made an oath to stay focused on the goal at hand and to enjoy what you did for a living for once; makeup. Except, your still stuck as an apprentice with a mentor that has no inclination for your growth.

And you’re a little bit in love with your client.

It's not that you were overage (your mother begs to differ), but considering you were on your second big girl job and still no sign of a potential lover, the prospect was starting to weigh on your head. The first rattling experience was when one of your closest friends announced her engagement, your thoughts still stuck in a 19 year old you considered she was too young. She was not, in fact, 19, or too young, but a perfectly acceptable age to consider marriage with someone she loved, you had soon realized. You were never one for the dating scene, but you were always one to don your Dr. Love labcoat whenever an emotionally bruised friend would come seeking help. You were good at advice, but awfully bad at applying it yourself.

Coming into this job, surrounded by a plethora of beautiful people, your heart would be of stone if it weren’t to waver.

The gong of unattainability had struck the second you laid eyes on Mingyu, laughing at something Hoshi had shown him on the phone. There he was, hair and makeup-less, looking like he had just rolled out of bed (which he had), and beautiful as ever. Beginning this new chapter with a bang, only problem was that it turned into an 8 month shoot out. Having encountered a number of gorgeous people, you’d learned to appreciate their genetic lottery pull and move on. But never had a single look left you as breathless and unbeared as that one, fateful look at Mingyu. One of the team members was busy assuring you not to worry too much about the pandemonium in the dressing room, that everyone would handle it and you were only asked to observe and help with smaller things as instructed; for now. You weren’t listening too hard though.

You were now adjusted to the chaos that comeback season and 13 men plus staff in a microscopic dressing room brought about. But you will never forget how in the midst of your first rain of hell, Mingyu had asked you to pass his phone.

‘Please?’ He had said, and you slammed your hand with a force of a woman infatuated on the table behind you and (literally) breathed out the first thing you had ever said to him.

‘Here’

He smiled and gave you a quick ‘thanks’.

There was no coming back after he flashed you those irresistible canines, and to this day, you wonder what nation you saved in a previous life to be able to have him know your name, hear it roll off his tongue in his pretty voice as he asks you to fix his smudged eyeliner.

You sigh defeatedly before your mentor slash irritated makeup artist shoves her load back in your hands and instructs you to come inside to pack up. It’s become routine for you now, as you begin to pack up the bigger palettes and tools, handing a ready-to-go-home Junhui the pack of makeup wipes he asked for, zipping up bags and closing tubs of outfits. It's an organized chaos but one everybody has grown to work around.

Mingyu is done before you, as he removes his jewelry and begins to shrug off his jacket. You scramble to find the clothes he came in and his coat, pointedly ignoring the familiar scent of wood. He thanks you and shucks off the remainder of his clothing, he might be used to stripping in front of professional staff, but you look away regardless for your own sanity.

Helping the last stylists hang the final jacket, you grab your bag and get ready to leave in your own car. Mingyu has left, not before throwing a “you did well, thank you!” over his shoulder at the remaining people in the room and leaving for the honking car outside.

***

Your mashing bananas in a bowl at 12 AM when you start thinking. Impulsive baking sessions had become a norm since you started working with Seventeen, needing to keep yourself occupied to stop spiraling. Mingyu was a recurring topic (surprise surprise), but one that quickly faded when you begin to think about what the future holds for you. You start mashing the banana harder. You consider the idea that you can’t complain, being in a position some of the most well seasoned pros had difficulty reaching. Being a single young woman and being allowed so close to some of the most unattainable men was seen as near impossible. You’d like to think it was your skill that got you here but can never seem to fully rule out a processing error.

It’s hard, being stuck in the same place. Your apprenticeship should have ended 2 months ago, but even if it had, you’d still be doing the same thing. The senior artist trusts no-one but a select few to work on the boys for photoshoots, events, music videos. People like you are left to sanitize sponges and clean the fallout.

You crack an egg on the counter and it splits open entirely, falling on the floor, yolk and all. Your inability to grow stays within the idea that you can’t really do your artistry like you want.

And how you never learn to crack your eggs on the bowl.

***

Showing up on the Going Seventeen set, you rush to the dressing room way earlier than you should. Being completely honest, you’re really only rushing because you want to maneuvere yourself to do Mingyu’s makeup before somebody else snags him. This was one of the very few engagements where you were occasionally allowed to take charge on makeup. Not that it was required for the show much at all; intensity and occasion wise. Your rare (possible) moment to (maybe) come into Mingyu’s organic notice was an opportunity never to be dropped by you.

You help setting up everything on the counters as the boys begin to (loudly) file in the rooms. You see Mingyu walk in and move to ask him to sit down once he’s done discarding his coat. He was first in line and you ‘happened’ to be the first one ready to begin working.

‘Is the eye makeup heavy? I just got a sty removed and I don’t know if I should be putting anything on at all.’ He asks as he sits down and you ready your damp sponge.

‘Not really, just smoothing things out. It should be fine.’ you say as you begin to press the compact on his cheek.

Your not really sure why, because you’ve never been able to muster anything above brief replies when in contact with him, but something in you pushes you to keep talking.

‘I’m surprised they even asked for us, they rarely ever do’ you continue, heart pounding so hard you’re afraid he might hear it.

He breathes out a laugh ‘Yeah. They even started advertising the show on youtube and subway stations and stuff, I didn’t know until I saw someone talk about it online’

You smile at his response ‘Well, all of you work so hard, it's about time they pull this to a high scale production’

‘It's never really work if your having fun, we try to be ourselves on here’ He replies, still smiling slightly.

You’re damn near close to collapsing on the floor at this point. This is the longest conversation you’ve ever had with him. You opt to smile in response as you start to concentrate on his eyebrows. The rest of his face is done far too soon as you zone out and do what you do best.

‘All done’ you announce as you pull away from his lips, trying not to have yoour gaze linger.

“Y/n! Can you start on Vernon if you're done?’, another artist calls from behind.

‘Yeah, he can come up!’ you reply as Mingyu (regretfully) walks towards hair.

Just because you sew your mouth shut with Mingyu doesn’t mean it applies for the rest of them, you’re quite friendly with all of them and Vernon does well to remind you as he sits down and quips a ‘hey bestieee’ in an elongated greeting.

You audibly laugh ‘That’s another word I’ll be hearing for the next month’

‘Regretfully so’ He feigns sympathy.

‘Be quiet and look up’ you say with a fond smile before you get started on him.

***

You sit on the floor in front of your television, trail mix on the coffee table as the movie plays as background noise for your thoughts - again.

There’s a smile on your face, but you dont notice as you think about the small talk you made with Mingyu today, wondering if it could become a regular occurrence if you learned to keep your heart and mind in check.  

You were never one to stand up and take effort to do what was right for you, which is why you were talked into choosing Business Administration by your friend in highschool, who you never speak to now because she decided to ditch you for another group who were more inclined to shuttle themselves to liver failure by partying every last weekend in your entire college career. You were talked into applying to corporate jobs by your counsellors as you started looking for make-up courses, needing to abandon your dream for the second time when you landed a decent entry level desk job. It took years before you decided to choose yourself for once and made the big leap after multiple courses you had took on the side. Life was starting to look bright after getting hired here, but you’re not sure if you overrode a high or if you went back to your old zipped mouth state after you settled in. Never sure if you expected too much or if things really were as stagnant as they felt.

***

Overmanifestation can be a thing. You're not really sure how it works but you’re reaping what you’ve sowed right about now.

You’re currently standing in an offside corridor in a hotel lobby, clad in a pretty white floral dress, and a nervous, fidgety Mingyu standing in front of you.

'I know I'm asking you to do something difficult and I know it seems pointless because I'm not doing anything wrong either that you have to lie about it'

This was supposed to be a staycation with your friends for you to relax and get your mind off things. Your ticket to relaxation has become a nightmare.

'And I understand I'm being super unreasonable but I'm really trying to keep it on the down-low as we get to know each other'

You were waiting with your friends on the couches positively stuffing your faces with the complimentary chocolate bowl placed on the coffee table as a couple other friends checked you guys into your rooms. You were laughing and talking with your group, carefree and ready to have a week of well deserved rest.

That was the plan anyway. Until you see someone across the lobby, also in line at check in. He had an unmistakable toothy smile,and was hand in hand with a concealed brunette.

Your smile abruptly falls in disbelief as you feel your world halt around you.

The same hands come up to brush the hair out of the woman's face to place a kiss on her temple, smiling wide.

The nauseating feeling of ice going down your spine is becoming more and more apparent. You attempt to swallow the lump in your throat but it's like trying to swallow a brick. You lick your lips and attempt to look away but your eyes keep feeding on the picture you painted yourself in your worst nightmares. Realizing you're on the brink of possible hyperventilation, your friend drops her head and asks you if you're okay. You look up at her, not knowing what to say as you realize that nodding furiously will convince her.

Mingyu has a girlfriend.

Of course he would. What were you thinking? This man is one of the most eligible bachelors in the country, why on earth would he be single? You’re unhinged, you decide, for thinking you may have a chance, when the woman turns around and you see her in full. She’s gorgeous.

A part of you still wants to believe that you're officially past the point of sanity and that you've begun to see Mingyu in every tall man. The universe, however, is cruel. He pushes his head up and in your general direction, and locks eyes with you in unmistakable recognition.

He stops smiling.

So here you are listening to Mingyu asking you to keep this a secret from the company, to forget the woman waiting for him in the lobby.

You can only nod in slight motions as he goes on his rant to justify his oath to secrecy, managing a tight lipped smile as you miraculously find your voice, hoarse as it may be.

'Don't worry about it, I understand' - ouch - 'it's none of my business anyway. I'll keep my lips sealed, I promise'

'Thank you, thank you, thank you I appreciate it so much, you don't even know. I'll repay you soon I promise'

'No, please, it's not-'

'No, Y/n I will. You're being really good to me right now and I'm so grateful. I'm sorry for putting you through this while you're off from work and with friends. It's worth to me that your listening and understanding'

You're tired. You want nothing but for him to stop talking. So you smile again and shake your head.

'I'm sure your friends are waiting, I won't keep you. I'll see you soon though!'

And with that he leaves. Back to the lobby where you see him take the woman by hand once again. You watch again as they walk to the elevators, stepping in and disappearing when the doors close. You watch the floor number rise.

1, 2, 3, 4, 5…

You walk back to your laughing friends before you can see where they got off.

***

Retiring to your shared hotel room with Chaeyoung, you fall back first into the crisp sheets and mattress.

'Why're you so depressed dude, did Mingyu say something to you?' She asks, a slight line forming between her brows.

'I'm fine, I've been up since 5 today it's just fatigue hitting me right now' you reassure, like always. 'I might not go to dinner with you guys, might end up with my face in the soup at some point'

Chaeyoung hums. ‘Take the night off so you can gear up for the rest of the week. I'm letting you off for now but I expect full attendance for eveything else we do', finishing with a mocking stern look.

'Yes ma'am' you feign salute from the bed, mimicking her stern tone.

You've known Chaeyoung for quite a while now, meeting her in your last year of uni. Trusting her as you do, you were never fully able to fess up about your feelings for Mingyu. Fear of judgment wasn't the problem, but more so the strange feeling of shame that overcomes you when you think about talking about it with other people. It's quite beyond you, why you act this way. You loved your friends and you knew they would support you with everything, they'd proved it when you'd made one of the most difficult decisions of your life while leaving your job. But the idea of having the audacity to love someone who could never do the same seemed like a feat of embarrassment.

Who are you, y/n? Who are you to have foolish dreams of a girl in love? With someone clearly fit for all things greater than you?

Maybe this was a good thing, you thought, the weird feeling in your stomach returning. Maybe this was the universe telling you to give up and move on, a kind of rejection that keeps your dignity. This was nothing but a reality check, a sign from whatever wants best for you, to bring your attention back to what brought you to Mingyu in the first place.

***

You didn’t see Mingyu for the rest of the trip, which you were grateful for not knowing how you’d react if you had to see him so soon after, that.

Back massaged and head clearer than it had been for weeks, you feel more in control of your feelings and thoughts regarding your life. You hope the conversation with Mingyu was the last stressful thing you’d encounter for a while.

It’s almost comeback season, you realise as you see the new concept photos while scrolling on your couch at home. This meant insanely early mornings for weeks on end, but you had to push through for your own sake. You’d come out of multiple comebacks needing a brace for a month but you wouldn’t trade it for the world. Never realising the true meaning of learning through experience, you were enlightened as you entered this new, very hands on field. The concept looked interesting, hoping the scraps of makeup you’d be allowed to do would be fun for you.

That ended up being true when you were, for the first time, asked to do Hoshi’s full makeup for their first comeback broadcast.

Your stumped silence was short lived as you hastily oblige and get the chair ready for him. You’d looked at the demo sheets and face charts too much for someone who wasn’t actually going to be asked to do much, but you see it pay off as you finish his eyes and get started on the rest of his face. It was easy for you to zone out as Soonyoung had passed out not even 5 minutes in, having someone hold his face as you worked.

You felt your chest swell with an indesipherable feeling as you watched him get up with your mastery on his face; pride, was it? You were getting emotional for no reason. Your attention, however, is moved sharply when you hear someone tell Mingyu it was his turn, finding him plopped on your chair staring straight into nothingness as he’d just been rudely awoken from his nap. He doesn’t realise it’s you for a solid minute as he tried to remember his own name.

‘Oh, hello’ he says, sort of confused. ‘Sorry, just give me minute’, he mumbles as he rubs his eyes.

He stretches back onto his seat signalling he’s ready for you to get started. You trying not to feel too much in your stomach as you begin.

You’re powdering his forehead when he says “I know I already said this but I really appreciate what you’re doing”

You know he’s talking about the conversation at the hotel, you were hoping you could avoid it.

“I told you not to worry about it, honest.” You reply, and somehow manage to choke out “It makes me happy that you’re happy”

You can see him trying to fight a smile, “Thank you for saying that”.

You wanted to stab someone. But you opt for gently brushing a base colour across his eyes.

“Do any of us know her, by any chance?” You ask cautiously.

“I dont think so. We met through mutual friends at a Christmas dinner, we didn’t start talking till she had to bring me a bunch of papers I’d left at my mom’s that day.” his face depicts someone reminiscing a fond memory.

It was cute, how it seemed like fate was trying to bring them together. It would've been cuter if you weren’t in a one sided pining with one of the two lovers.

“Well, I hope it works out for the both of you”

No you don’t.

“I hope so too”

You don’t hope that at all.

You felt guilty, feeling all of this. Hated that this was your first response to him wanting to be happy. Never would you have imagined stooping this low, hoping his happiness doesn’t work out for your sake. You’d like to owe it this being your first real infatuation, but you can’t help but wonder if this was really what you thought.

You decided to focus on the good news for today, that you’re finally allowed to do your actual job. You can only hope this wasn’t a temporary advancement, allowing time to tell.

Things remained the same the following day, much to your absolute elation. You were done doing 4 people’s makeup and was just winding down to take a break, quite satisfied with yourself. You observed as the rest of the boys got their hair done and run around, half in their outfits. You stifle a snort as you watch Jeonghan hide Minghao’s socks in his pockets as the boy tried to find them to put his shoes on, the former continuing to sip on his coffee seemingly unaware.

“Y/n, have you seen my socks? The green ones with the leaves on it?” Hao inevitable asks you.

You’re forced to feign confusion when Jeonghan pokes his head behind him signalling you to keep up the charade. He continues to look and you’re just about to have mercy on the poor boy before a to-go cup of coffee is shoved in front of your face.

You look up at the person and it’s Mingyu extending his arm at you expectantly.

“Oh, I didn’t order anything” you start, thinking you’re clearing up a confusion.

“I know you didn’t, got one for you anyway.”

There’s a record screech in your brain as you absorb his words.

“Think of it as me trying to repay the favour”

Oh. I see.

You’re a little embarrassed thinking he’d get one for you in that way, not when he had someone waiting on him. You accept the cup and mumble a thank you as he unexpectedly plants himself on the couch next to you.

“I saw you drinking lattes a lot of the times, so I just got you that. Hope that’s okay”.

Your silent for a moment before replying “Yes!” a little bit too loudly, eyes widening a little realisng your lack of volume control.

He knows your coffee order.

“Yes,” you say again in a normal tone and a slight laugh to cover up your inability to read the room, “They’re my favourite actually”

Kim Mingyu knows you like latte’s. This wasn’t good for your delusional brain.

Your conversation is cut short when the boys are called for roll call before they can prepare for the actual stage. You watch him get up and leave to file into the overstuffed elevators, not before he throws you the most adorable wave you’ve ever seen. You can’t hold back your smile as you wave back and look down at the drink he got you before taking a sip.

***

As it turns out, you did makeup for the rest of their comeback season, and Mingyu, without fail, got you an iced latte every single day before leaving to go on stage.

You tried to get him to stop, but he was rooted in his position and you didn’t have it in you to say no to his pleading eyes. It was a re-charge for you, when you’d seen him break into a happy smile, prominent canines that you’d grown to adore. He’d done more than enough to ‘repay’ you for swearing to secrecy, and you felt like you too, should  should repay him the balance.

So here you were, making banana bread in your kitchen again, careful to remember to crack your eggs on the rim of your mixing bowl instead of slamming them on the counter. You’re stirring the flour in when a classified devious thought occurs to you.

These past two weeks were pivotal for both you and Mingyu, daily coffee’s meant daily conversations, which meant getting to know one another more. You’d exchanged phone numbers in the midst of all of this, to which ensued the agenda of staying up till midnight talking to each other about the meaning of life.

Setting down the whisk, you pick up your phone and sent the text before you chickened out.

[You]: I have a surprise for you.

[You]: You wanna come over? It’s better enjoyed fresh lol

[Mingyu]: Ma’am? 👁👁

[Mingyu]: That sounds a whole lot like a booty call

[You]: *attachment*

[Mingyu]: IS THAT CAKE??

[Mingyu]: omw 😮‍💨

You send the location and set your phone down, a jittery feeling going through your entire body. There’s a spring in your step as you slide the loaf into the oven and set a timer. You turn around your kitchen island and register the pigsty that is your apartment. The girls were over the night before and you had done nothing to enlighten the aftermath, pillows strewn across the entire living room and snack wrappers in places you’re not sure how they landed.

By the time you’re done and spritzed the place with some of your nicer perfumes, your taking the loaf out of the oven and on a rack to cool.

Ever the punctual man, you hear the doorbell ring just as your taking your oven mitts off.

Hoping you’ve done enough to your apartment to save yourself from embarrassment, you collect yourself and open the door for him through your ringcam. He’s barely through when your rushing towards your doorway.

“Hi!”

“Hey,” he grunts as he tries to slip off his shoes.

“‘aight, where’s my cake?” he demands once he’s done giving you a quick hug.

You roll your eyes and usher him to the kitchen, “First of all, appreciate how excited you are to see me, and second, its banana bread not cake, sorry to burst your bubble”

He responds to your grumbling with an “Oh come on, you can't put freshly baked goods on the agenda and expect me to pay particular attention to anything else”.

He has his trademarked grin and cheesy stare out on display like its nobody’s business, you want to slap it off of him in the most loving way possible, but you settle with a tiny “shut up”.

“I brought warm coffee this time, thought it’d go better” He sets the to-go carrier on the kitchen counter, following you to where you were attempting to slice the still hot banana bread on a tray.

“Oh, that was a good idea” you say.

“Where’re your plates and forks?” he asks, pulling out the drawers and cabinets you signal to.

It all felt too domestic for your weak heart to handle. Not to say it didn’t warm you to the core how comfortable he felt in your space, you did, more than you’d care to admit. But he needed to tone it down before you required an organ transplant.

You were seated on the floor, butts parked on floor cushions, backs against the couch. The coffee table held all of your goods while you both argued on which movie to watch.

“I can’t believe you haven’t watched any of the Harry Potter movies! No, we’re watching philosopher’s stone, I don’t care!” You shout in disbelief, already typing it into the search bar on the TV.

“Philly-philo- bro I can’t even pronounce it why would I watch that?!” He yells back, snatching the remote from you.

You’re both a giggling, screaming mess on the floor as you keep trying to steal the remote from each other, not stopping until one of you bumps into the table and you almost spill hot coffee all over yourselves.

You decide to call a truce and pick another movie entirely.

Just as you’re pressing play, Mingyu takes a bite of the still (surprisingly) warm banana bread and you watch as his eyes roll to the back of his head.

“This is so good” He says, his faced furrowed as he goes in for another bite. “Did you lace this with something, why is this so good?”

You’re biting back a snarky remark but you let it rip anyway; “It’s cuz these pretty hands made it”

You splay your hands out in front of your face, like your showing him your rings, fingers wiggling and a cheeky smile on your face.

He looks unimpressed as he scoffs. He swallows before saying: “At least you didn’t call the secret ingredient love or something”

“Excuse you, I’m pretty sure I heard you say that in some Gose episode” You remark.

He turns to you, all smug: “So your saying you watch Gose? Like, regularly?”

You immediately turn away from his taunting smirk, “Sometimes, if it shows up on my home page”

You take a sip of your latte before he asks you another sweat producing question.

“Oh, but you pay attention to me the most don’t you? Don’t you?”

He’s poking fun at you, you know that. But a paranoid part of you can’t help but think he’s onto you and your feelings.

So you say something maybe a little bit below the belt.

“You sure have a knack for seeking validation from the world when you have a partner already giving that to you”

The words tumble out of your mouth before you know it. In your defence, you're doing this for a greater cause, but it's still a relief when you see him comically gasp, hand to his diaphragm.

“Just because your alone in life, doesn’t mean you need to be salty about other people receiving actual love” He spits back.

Your sputtering trying to think of a response. Deserved.

He grabs a slice of the bread and shoves into your mouth to shut you up once and for all. You’re left chewing the mouthful and staring at him in shock.

He giggles and takes a sip of coffee, satisfied with himself. When he sets it down he opens his mouth to speak. Closes it again, like he re-evaluating, and finally decides to say something. He’s serious now.

“Ji Eun and I, decided it wasn’t gonna work out between us”.

Oh.

“Oh.”

He blows a raspberry and lets out a meek laugh.

“Yeah, oh. It’s whatever, it wasn’t meant to work out. Better sooner than later.”

You’re trying to find the words to reply or comfort him.

“Do you wanna talk about it?” You ask him, being careful to not lace your voice with pity, but more neutral and open. “You don’t have to, obviously, but it might be better to talk about what’s bothering you”

He pauses for a moment before starting.

“She wasn’t sitting very well with the idea that she had to share me. Like at all. She wouldn’t say it but she’d get mildly infuriated when I’d blow the fans a kiss or something, or interacted with the staff too much. I was getting home quite late certain days during comeback season and I’d find her outside the dorm at like 11 PM. It was embarrassing when all of the other members would see her there, obviously upset and basically yelling at me for, for - for literally just doing my job.I guess all the smaller things just started piling and she couldn’t take it. I tried so hard to make sure she felt wanted and secure in the relationship but nothing felt like it was ever enough. She was evasive or confrontational all at the wrong times and it came to a point- its a horrible thought to have in a relationship - but I was terrified she’d do something rash and I’d wake up to my face on articles for some reason - again”

You recollected the past couple years when Mingyu was thrown around in the media for a new accusation seemingly everyday. You weren’t involved with anything regarding the industry back then, but you’d heard enough news to be aware of what was happening.

Your heart swelled with sadness as you heard him talk, he sounded like he was trying- trying hard to be good enough. All for a person who seemed to have their priorities set somewhere else.

“She was amazing; kind and happy and confident. She treated my parents with respect, she was best friends with my sister. I know we only lasted like 3 months but at some point I really considered that she could be the one. But then the problems started and I realized she was only becoming an added factor to stress and anxiety for me more than anything else.

“I liked her because she was so family oriented, and I thought that was what would fit me because I’m like that too. But, I guess I’m just a different kind of oriented? I don’t know. I have a job that’s both interpersonal and unpredictable. There’s days where I don’t wanna get up and do work but I still love it nonetheless. I guess she just expected me to have a predictable, stable 9 to 5. Home in time for dinner, not requiring interaction with too many people; basically everything I can’t be.”

He’s silent for a moment.

You start talking after a couple beats.

“I really hope you aren’t taking this like it’s your fault. She made a choice to put up with your work, knowing how it would be for the both you. You tried your best but she made you feel like your best wasn’t good enough. I dunno about you, but that sounds like a really problematic conclusion. If she truly cared for you and what you love, she would never have been this unsupportive or not understanding”.

He’s listening to you, his expression is blank but you can tell he’s absorbing your words.

“I’d like to think I had realized that. But being completely honest, I’m not really sure when my thoughts go back to me thinking I’m the problem all the time.”

He manages a smile, a wide one, as he looks up to make eye contact with you; “But I know it’ll take me some time to really start believing that it’s not entirely my fault. We just weren’t compatible, and that’s fine. We left on good terms, and I’m happy about that.”

You smile with him as he finishes, but your a little confused when he starts sliding closer and down the cushions.

He sets his head on your shoulder.

You may have shortcircuited right then and there.

“Is this okay?” he asks you quietly, attention finally diverted to the half played movie.

You realise he asked you a question and you have to answer.

“Yeah, this is fine” You breathe out, somehow, by the graces of God himself.

No, you weren’t fine at all. You felt like the universe had flipped a faulty switch, mixed up the scripts, lost the plot, something. But as you get used to the weight of Mingyu’s head on your shoulder, you pray it won’t come back to haunt you in another chapter.

***

Your routine became inverted in the sense that, what you once had to plan out so intricately, is unfolding with no effort from you at all.

You find that Mingyu waits for you to be done with somebody else so you can do his makeup, instead of sitting on another free chair. He’d come to you specifically to touch up his makeup instead of going to an artist he saw closer to him. He never forgot to get you a coffee whenever it was that he saw you.

Mingyu hadn’t slept over that night, instead leaving in his car despite the 1 AM drizzle and your insistence for him to stay until the pour recedes.

Maybe it was better for you that he hadn’t stayed that night. Something about how you grew so close ‘organically’ made you feel like this wasn’t all in your head, that he’s choosing to be your friend.

You’re handing him his clothes as he begins to change, using the excuse to whisper to him;

“I was gonna try a new brownie recipe tonight, if you’re free you can come over?”

“I think I have somewhere to be after this but I’m free after, How’s 6?”

So there you are, back in your kitchen folding chocolate chunks into your brownie batter while waiting for Mingyu to get here.

Your phone dings from the island and you check to see a message from Mingyu sending you what looked like a grocery list; pasta, oregano, garlic…

[Mingyu]: Tell me what you don’t have from this

[Mingyu]: I’m at the store rn hurry up

You send him a list of what you don’t have, realising he intended to have dinner with you too.

[Mingyu]: k thanks

[Mingyu]: be there in like an hour

There’s a warm feeling that’s swelling in your chest, that makes you wanna punch a wall because your so happy. You choose self control, mostly because this apartment is on a lease but also you’d probably break your knuckles trying to punch anything harder than a foam mat.

By the time Mingyu’s here, the brownies are in the oven and you’re almost done with the icing. He unpacks the groceries (and the warm lattes) he bought while you finish up, confirming that he was trying a new pasta recipe tonight. Setting the brownies and coffee down on your usual coffee table, you decide wait a couple hours before starting on making dinner, instead choosing to hear him ramble about an idol he met at an award show.

“So, we start talking before we’re ready to go up- you weren’t there you were working on wonwoo’s makeup- and he starts complimenting me and so obviously I start complimenting him back”

He’s waving his arms around, and setting positions with coasters on the table trying to explain the setting.

“He asks me if I have a sister and I’m like… yes? Which I should’ve realised where this was going because he then” - he pauses to take a deep breath - “this absolute asshat decides it’d be funny to ask me for her number because apparently ‘if you’re this hot, I’m sure any sibling you have is too’ BRO, WHY THE FUCK WOULD YOU SAY THAT - how are laughing at this?!”

You calm yourself down for a second to clarify, “NO! It’s just hilarious how he thought that was okay to say”

You’re still still giggling in shock when Mingyu calms down, now also laughing incredulously.

“But actually though, please tell me you smacked him” you manage.

“I would have,” he grumbles “I got called to fix my hair cuz I ruined it or something”.

“Oh well, now you know who to avoid next time,” you say as you guide a bite of brownie into his mouth, “Forget about it now, eat sugar, it’ll help”

He chews a bit before swallowing, all while you’re watching him with an endeared smile on your face.

“Y’know, I really thought you didn’t like me when you first joined the team”

You pause mid sip of your coffee, brows furrowed, “What do you mean?”

“You never really talked me, did you? You were friendly with the rest of them but it just seemed like you never wanted to enter a room if you saw me there”

You’re looking at him in utter shock, this man was mistaking your avoidant (yet also pushy) teenage crush behaviour for dislike.

He’s looking at you expectantly, a little pout on his face.

“I never disliked you, why would you think that? I promise everything was a coincidence, it was nothing like that”

“Don’t get so defensive, kinda obvious you like me now if not before” He laughs at your panicked expression.

He meant platonic like.

“I’m sorry I made you feel like that though, I’ve been told I have a pretty serious resting bitch face, it’s gotten me in trouble before” she smile sheepishly.

“It’s fine, you made up for it with that first banana bread” He says before taking another bite of brownie, “Could use more chocolate chunks”

You snort before pushing him with a sock clad foot, “Appreciate me even giving them to you” 

You fall back to the adjacent sofa.

It’s quiet for a moment. But you feel like something’s shifted in the air.

You watch as he brings his hand to the same foot, holding onto your ankles. He’s caressing the exposed skin with his fingers, moving them back and forth. His eyes are glued to yours, looking like he’s in a trance. You’re not sure how to register this new change in mood, suddenly feeling like you need to turn the aircon on during the bleak Seoul winter. Just as you're hoping you don’t start sweating, you feel his vice grip on your ankle pull your leg over with a sharp tug. You scream as you lose support of the sofa and fall back.

You sit up in shock to find him leaning with his elbows on the floor, cackling like madman.

“Mingyu, what the fuck?”

“You-” He stops to laugh again, “You should’ve seen your face, PLEASE, it was hilarious”.

You huff before getting up shoving his shoulder with your foot again, “You’ve been playing guest a little too long, maybe it’s time you get started on that pasta”

“Will I be blessed enough to be receiving her highness’s help?” He asks.

He looks like a dream, clad in his T-shirt because he claims he doesn’t get cold. Hands behind him on the floor to give him support as he stares up at you, smiling wide. He’s looking at you with eyes full of stars and glitter.

You muster up the courage to give him a nasty glare, to which he huffs at and gets up, “Such a meanie”.

It’s hard to conceal your smile as his back his turned, sachaying towards the kitchen. You want to slap him and kiss him at the same time.

Your washing veggies in the sink when you turn around catch sight of his back as he stood at the kitchen island, sorting the rest of the ingredients. You get the same overwhelming feeling in your chest again, assuming you’re deluding yourself into thinking this is what life could be like with him. In less than 3 seconds, you’ve conjured a timeline of domestic routines, to wind down with him like this every evening.

You’re still lost in thought, still incessantly staring when he turns around and catches you in the act. He does the rude thing and snaps his fingers in front of your face to pull you out of your thoughts, “You okay?”

“Yeah” You say trying to gloss it over while busying yourself trying to find your cutting board.

“Are you sure? Do you wanna sit down at the island and watch me instead. You don’t have to help -”

“Pick a knife, and shut up dingus, it’s fine”

Once your both done eating and cleaning up, Mingyu hugs you goodbye, not before asking if you’d be free for lunch next week before he got busy the following month. You quickly agree, setting a date and time, bidding your (reluctant) farewells.

***

Once back in your apartment you realize how you can’t clean up to distract yourself because Mingyu took it upon himself to clear the space with you before he left. You sigh loudly and retire into your bedroom where you don’t have to think about how empty your living room is.

Changing into your pajamas and putting a headband on, you don’t even feel like turning your music on to do your night routine. You double cleanse, tone, serum, acid and moisturise your face with added purposefulness, taking note of the crevices of your nose and the neglected bottom of your chin. Taking extra time to make sure all of the foam is out of your skin before drying your face with a tissue.

You look at your fed skin in the mirror, and feel a weird surge of tears well in your eyes. Before they can fall you slam your bathroom cabinet to busy yourself to find your melatonin gummies, shoving them in your mouth before switching off the bathroom light and retiring to your bedroom.

Slipping the headband off and sliding into bed, you’re still chewing your gummies to a paste in your mouth. Trying not to notice how heavy you’re breathing you try to find your white noise machine, the one you found advertised for infants, and turn it on before grabbing your book to read for a few extra minutes.

Your staring at the pages like you found them to be blank. You’re phone dings next to you, signalling a notification.

Picking it up you find your mental health app sending you a daily reminder.

You’re allowed to feel your emotions.

***

Winter had run its course as you find yourself in April. You never really liked the cold, having been more sensitive to a gust of wind than the average joe, you were better suited to sitting with an aircon instead of being unable to move in the middle of Korea’s January cold rush. But alas, the cherries are blossoming and your fingers have defrosted.

That isn’t what’s on your mind right now though, as you’re standing in a Sephora, arms crossed and shoulders tense. You loved shopping for makeup, but you mostly chose to do it online unless you really had to otherwise. Parking yourself in the perfume section with the scents mixing together a cocktail of nosehair doom, you really wish you’d worn a face mask. Not to mention the migraine inducing coloured lights and mainstream pop playing in the background (you swear they’ve been playing Side to Side by Ariana Grande on loop since you got here).

These were all, however, peripheral observations for you, as you stare in absolute pneumonic shock at the number written on the price tag of the perfume you’re looking at.

Now, Mingyu is a man of class, high maintenance if you will. You’re well aware he likes to spoil himself, because he has a bank account to back it up.

Your bank account is definitely full and secure, but not enough for you to justify dropping what seems like half of its contents to something only one of the five senses can experience.

Mingyu mentioned in passing how he wanted this perfume a while ago, and knowing that he hadn’t ordered it for himself just yet, you decide to be the amazing friend that you are and surprise him for his birthday.

You may be regretting that right now, but you tentatively pick up the blue, crystalline bottle and spritz a bit on a paper strip before taking a whiff. It smelled good, that’s for sure, and it suited him too. So when the saleslady came to offer assistance, after you excused the last three, you decide you’re going to do this for him.

“Yes, could I have this in the box please?”

Walking back to your car you feel a bount of jitter run through you,

Oh, he’s gonna freak out when he sees this.

He did, in fact, freak when he saw it, and his reaction made you want to give him all of the good things in the world if you could see him like this all the time.

He’s smiling ear to ear and speaking in that high pitched voice that he gets when he’s excited. He’s thanking you over and over again, smoothing the box over in his hands repeatedly, looking at the ‘from: y/n :p’ with hearts in his eyes.

“I’m gonna save this for the rest of my life” he says, with determination and a goofy grin.

You snort at the declaration, “Sure, bud”

“I’m serious. What, you wanna bet?” he replies, taking a sip of his, latte, which you proudly credit yourself for swerving him over from Americano’s.

He insisted on going out to eat at this fancy French place a day before his actual birthday as he’d be busy on the day of, but it was risky for him to be seen eating out alone with a young woman at such a fancy place. You settled for a nicer traditional Korean restaurant, that allowed you to book a room away from possible prying eyes and one that you were both comfortable with. You decided to wait till you were back in the car with your post dinner coffee’s to give him his present.

“I’m giving you 3 months before that bottle’s dry to the dregs” You affirmed, “You smell like you empty half a bottle of something off your dresser everyday anyways”

You said it as an insult, but jokes on you because you loved the way he smelled.

“Fine, I’m gonna use this so carefully I’m not replacing it for at least a year”

“A year? What happened to the rest of your life?” you refute.

“I have you for that, don’t I”

What the fuckity fuck.

He’d turned to you, leaning on the headrest, that signature cheesy look; like he was in love or something. Voice dropping a couple octaves as he said it, laced with something defined and strong - enough for it to feel like the weight of an elephant had dropped on your chest.

You gather yourself after looking at him for a couple seconds, jaw unhinged and forgotten on the floor of his car. You chose to grab your cardigan that was neatly folded on the dash, and astral project it to his face across the seat. He’s laughing so hard there’s tears glistening in the corner of his eyes. He falls forward and you see strands of his hair fall to his face, he’d been growing them out.

“Shut up” you grumble in your seat, annoyed at how easy it was for him to send your heart through and beyond your chest.

He’s still giggling like a school girl, and you cave and give him a hint of a smile.

“There it iiiis” He announces, grabbing your face and smushing your cheeks together.

For a moment, he stops to look at you like this, like he’s contemplating. For one, brain rattling, organ exploding, microsecond, you think he might even kiss you.

Instead, he headbutts you slightly rubbing his head swiftly before letting go.

“I might need to wash my hands, I think I got your makeup on me” He mumbles, looking at his hands like a child with mud soaked palms.

“Serves you right, you buffoon,” You remark as you pull out your trusty travel pack of makeup wipes.

Yanking one out of the tab, you pull his hand over and try to wipe the remnants of foundation off, starting from the heel up to each individual finger. It’s silent as you concentrate on getting it all off both hands, he was wearing black tonight and knowing him he’d rub his hand over his pants and get beige foundation all over. You knew because you’d seen him do it one too many times.

“All done” you quip, looking up and catching his stare. He’s smooth to slowly look away and retract his open hands from your lap about 5 seconds after it became noticeable.

You busy yourself by attempting to stash away the wipes to throw out later, closing the pack of wipes and shoving them back into your bag.

He’s watching you do all of this, his stare is burning holes into the side of your head. He’s desperate to say something, but you’re not sure if you want to hear.

“Let’s go back to my place. We’ll stick a candle into a sheet brownie and call it your birthday cake. Oh, we can pick up ice cream too!”, You say, costuming your voice to sound unaffected by his vibe.

And so you did stick a candle in the fresh batch of brownies you both made at 11PM, two hours before his actual birthday. Sitting across from each other on the counter, Mingyu has his eyes closed shut, hands clasped, wearing a ridiculously coloured ‘BIRTHDAY BOY’ headband you found somewhere deep in your drawers.

“You’re gonna get wax on the brownies and they're gonna be inedible, hurry up” You groan, after everytime it seems like he’s done, he clenches his eyes shut again as he remembers another thing he has to wish for.

You’re not actually annoyed, he looks the cutest he’s ever looked, but you would appreciate non waxed brownies.

When he’s finally done, he blows out the singular candle and you clap lightly, “yay!”

You’re pulling out the candle and grabbing forks, dumping a couple scoops of ice cream on before you two start eating straight out of the pan.

Its a collection of groans as you both collapse on your couch, regretting eating all that so soon after dinner. He changed out of his dinner outfit to a T-shirt and pajama pants, he’d started keeping a set of clothes in his car when it started to become routine for him to spend regular  evenings after work at your place.

You’re in your own unicorn pajama’s, slumped over on the arm rest slightly. You feel Mingyu scooch over to put his head in your lap, claiming he was “closing his eyes for a minute”.

You knew how lightning fast he passes out, so not even 5 minutes later you start to hear his light snores. As much as you want to wake him up to move him to the bed, you know he can’t stay the night. His birthday meant he had to be with the boys, and needing to head out early tomorrow.

So you give him 10 more minutes, fingers tracing the shape of his features, in his soft hair massaging his head with your nails slightly. He had a little pout on his face as he slept. Things had been hectic for him lately, having a comeback later in the month and the plethora of music and variety shows to follow.

Mingyu had been writing lyrics on the kitchen island one day, sputtering random words as you quipped in rhymes of your own without context, stirring the pot of soup on the hob at the same time.  

One particular rhyme you spew out catches him off guard and he barks out a laugh at the ridiculous combination.

“I should put you on song credits for this”

“What do you think my producer name could be?”

He thinks for a second, “Banana bread sounds stupid, um, how’s brownie?”

“Cute, and serious enough” you agree, “I’ll be expecting to see my name on that album, sir”

Snapping out of your thoughts, you turn your attention back to the sleeping man curled up in your lap. You wonder if you could fall asleep on the couch too, keep him here with you for the night. Be a little selfish. It’d be nice, making waffles for breakfast when morning comes. But he needed to be at the dorm in the morning, the boys knew where he was but managers that’d come pouring in at 7 AM sharp, did not. And it was best kept that way. The last thing Mingyu wanted, you knew, was people getting the wrong idea. The thought stung a little bit, but you knew not to mix your hopes with what reality was giving you.

So you gather the courage to slowly reign him back from dreamland.

***

Your sitting with Mingyu and Seungkwan on the couches outside the dressing rooms, a little bit before they have to go to perform. You were done with your agenda and was waiting for them to start filing out before beginning to pack up.

“No, because why does he get to eat all the good stuff right out the oven and we don’t, that’s not fair” Seungkwan complained loudy to you, a mildly offended look on his face.

“Stop being such a complain bot, you’re never happy if I have nice things” Mingyu retorts, increasingly nasty looks being exchanged for an argument about freshly baked goods.

“Oh, I’m the hater?! Let me jog your memory, who was the one sulking and shoving me around when Y/n wouldn’t let you-”

Mingyu had jumped up and pulled Seungkwan into a headlock, his poor Americano half flying across the hall as he yells out in disarray.

“YAH!” cued with more noises of struggle and muffled threats.

You chose to embrace the violence by sitting in your seat and laughing as Vernon recorded their antics from the doorway inside eventually circing them for his supposed cinematic effect, catered for the inevitable weverse post that was to come.

Cut to them apologizing and cleaning up the mess of coffee and disregard.

You decide to be nice and attempt to make peace by reassuring Seungkwan, “Come over after you’re done promoting this week, I’ll make up for all the bread and cookies you missed out on”

“If you've finished with your escort duties Y/n, could you please come in and do your day job?”

The voice came from the doorway of the dressing room, your senior makeup artist standing there with her usual mildly inconvenienced expression. It took you a minute to fully understand what she meant by that sentence, your body completely still.

“Offended? What, like I’m wrong?”

You were no stranger to insulting behaviour in work places, but they’d always been revolving around your actual job description. People who didn’t like you knew they had to be smart on how they treated you regardles.

This was different. This felt like you were projected back in time to your solemn middle school days to mean girls taunting you about your spongebob socks, except multiply that by about a thousand.

You feel your stomach begin to churn as that nauseous feeling of shame began to settle itself into your veins.

You’re not sure how long you’ve been sitting there but when she slightly raises her voice; “Are you getting up or not?” your hands actively begin to tremble the slightest amount.

You’re making moves to get up by puting your coffee cup down, not knowing what to do except follow commands.

Your interrupted by a voice from behind; “She’s coming in, give us a minute”

Mingyu’s standing there, his expression stoic as Seungkwan and Vernon looked as stunned as you felt. You don’t register it in the moment, but the people in the hall, venue staff and those for other artists have also silenced, watching the scene unfold.

Her lips are in a tight line, her expression remaining irritated as she steps back inside the room.

You realise you need to do something to diffuse the escalated situation. Letting out a breathy laugh, you get up and tell them that you’ll be going inside, trying to keep your expression pleasant and unaffected, not waiting before turning around to spare them the burden of a response. People get yelled at everyday, and this is no different. You aren’t gonna be the one to make a scene out of a regular occurrence.

You know what's coming when you get inside, she’s waiting as she pulls you aside.

“Your behavior has been quite concerning recently, let me remind you of your place here and what you were hired to do. You've been dilly dallying with people who aren't even your friends, and its quite funny that you’d think they are. It's time to wake up from wasting your time making heart eyes at men who are way out of your league. I won't tolerate any more nonsense from you, and trust I won’t be this nice or forgiving the next time this happens”

You choose to nod your head.

“That’s another thing, use your own words. Don’t think other people are gonna be there all the time to speak for you” She spits out, her professional front slowly eroding the more she spoke.

“Yes, ma’am” You say, hoarse voice.

“Louder, next time”, she stalks out as majority of the people in the room also begin to leave for the filming downstairs.

You’re left standing awkwardly in front of the racks of clothes, trying to digest what just happened to you. Looking around the room, you try to figure out what your supposed to do.

Clothes on the couches, eyeshadow brushes on the floor. There’s a torn sponge resting underneath one of the chairs, a couple styrofoam boxes left on the tables from lunch.

There’s so much for you to do, you arent sure how you thought you had time to sit down and chat. But you’re not sure where to begin either. The room is a mess of smells and colours even without the buzzing noise of people getting ready. Tears begin to form as you try to navigate what you’re supposed to do, realising you can’t possibly find a starting point for any of this mess. Before you have time to think of anything else, a hand is holding onto your wrist, small and soft.

It’s Yoona, another one of the makeup artists.

“Y/n, I think it’s best if you go home, it’s been tiring.”

“But-”

“Don’t worry, I’ll handle her. Just trust me. Go home you’ll feel alot better”

She notices you hesitate for a second, and goes in to give you a hug.

It felt nice, to be hugged by a friend. For some reason, it didn’t feel like she was pitying you, her expression and aura reassuring you that you didn’t have to stand here alone.

“Whatever happened today shouldn't have happened, but you don’t need to think about that right now. Go home and do nice things for yourself, we’ll figure it out later. You have my number, give me a text once you get home. We can go out later if you want, when I get off work, to get your mind off things”

You’re not sure how you’re holding back the waterpark that has become of your tearducts as you hear those words from an unsuspecting friend, you nod with a smile. You feel a little more calm.

You can’t tell if you care enough to consider the consequences of your senior finding out how you’re doubling or nothing on your already posed humiliation. But the only thing you can think of right now is your bed and the ceiling you’d stare burn holes into.

So you, for the first time in a while, chose to choose yourself by picking up your satchel and leaving the chaos behind you as you walk to your car.

***

Just because you were brave where it mattered most doesn’t mean you weren’t allowed to cry.

You had come home, shot Yoona a brief text, and promptly began to sob the absolute Nile into your sheets.

You had never cried like this before, loud wracked sobs coming from a place in your chest you had locked away during a time you couldn’t even remember. You’re breathing after every choked cry is a sputtered intake of life, only to spit it back out as you let out another sob of what sounds like agony. There’s nothing in your head, nothing but the words that were spoken to you as echoes of your own mind. Hypocritical of you to hate them when the same words circled in your head like a mantra every cursed, unfortunate day. She had done you a favour, by spitting out the truth you’d stewed, chewed and kept in your mouth ever since you got here. This was a you problem, to believe that you were capable of things beyond your bracket. You were told by the universe, screamed at by the world, that this was never meant for you, and you chose to ignore it. You chose to be stubborn. You brought this misery upon yourself.

Once you’ve disposed your body weight of tears and snot and burden, you’re left to stare at your innocent sheets now stained with mascara and your sorrows. You crawl into your covers and rest your muscles for a few seconds, head empty. You aren’t sure when you drift off, but you're glad that you do.

You don’t dream for once.

***

You wake up feeling like you drank a gallon of water and went to sleep. Your eyes, nose and throat feel like they’ve been over watered yet dry at the same time. You don’t realise what’s really arising pangs of irritancy in your brain once you figure out the consistent sound is a door bell. You’re doorbell, of the house that you live in.

You’re slow to push yourself up, realising your slept in your day clothes. It’s dark out but you're not sure what time it is, and quite frankly, you can’t say you care enough to check. You need to silence your doorbell first, which can only be done by silencing whatever hell sent individual was playing drums on the button outside.

It’s a record screech in your brain as you peer through your peephole and realise who the aforementioned hell sent individual was.

Mingyu was outside your door.

You don’t realise you look like you crawled out of a sewer till it’s too late and you’ve already opened the door through muscle memory. Mingyu was always welcome in your space.

He was in casual clothes, his hair pushed back from the guessed hands that ran through it, but he was still in stage his stage makeup.  

“Oh, were you sleeping?” He asks, eyes a little wide, expression cautious.

“Yeah.”

“I’ll go then, you weren’t answering your phone for anyone and you told Yoona you were home but you weren’t opening the door, i was worried. Sorry I ringed it so much I probably should’ve assumed-”

He stops to look at you, and it’s like realizes something before he finally says; “Just wanted to make sure you were okay, I’ll see you around. I’ll leave you alone”

“Wait,” you croak out, licking your lips, conscious of your morning voice, “Can you stay? Please? If you can.”

He stops to look at you, expression changing from sheepish to defensive.

“No! I mean, yes. Yes. I’ll stay. I’ll stay for as long as you want”

You let him in as he slips off his shoes and you lead him to the living room. His presence in the familiar place seems like it last happened eras ago, when he was only here maybe a week prior.  

“You know where everything is, I’ll be back gimme like 5 minutes”

You’re scared to look at yourself in your bathroom mirror, so you don’t, and choose to scrub your face looking down at your sink. You change into a sweatshirt and trouser loungewear set, deciding to save your dignity a little bit further as you brush your hair and clip it back with a claw clip.

You take a breath before entering the living room again.

He’s sitting on the floor in your usual place, two steaming mugs on the coffee table, the tabs hanging out of the cup. He made you tea.

You sit down next to him, not really prepared for what you should be saying.

“How long has she been speaking to you like that?” He asks you quietly.

“She was always kinda itchy and uptight and stuff but, it was never like this” You say.

“Regardless, whatever that was, it was, wrong, uncalled for, all of those things” He says, sputtering a little bit.

He stops and sighs. It’s silect for a minute before he turns in his seat to face you, grabbing your folded legs and pulling you to face him too.

“Yoona heard everything she said to you after you went in, she heard it all. And she knows about some other stuff too. If you think, even for a second, that I’m not your friend, I might actually think there’s something wrong with you.

“If everything we’ve been through this past, almost a year, doesn’t amount to us at least being friends then I don’t know what it means to have one at all. You’re the first person in a while I’ve been able to be this open with. You know me better than most people, you’ve seen me at my worst and at my best. I’ve let you read me all you want, because I know I can be an open book if it’s you. I trust you more than I can trust myself sometimes, and I really wish you would trust me too.”

You’re watching him as he says all of this, you look up to make eye contact a couple times, and he’s looking at you everytime you lift your head.

“I do trust you. Probably more than anyone else. It’s myself I don’t trust. It’s hard for me to open up, I’m scared I’m gonna say something that’ll scare you away. And, I just thought maybe she was right today, that I need to realise that it can’t be that way between us, I have a job to do”

“What can’t be between us?”

“I like you, Mingyu. Like, I’m basically in love with you and have been since I fucking met you. I couldn’t believe that you could possibly be friends with someone like me, a confused, all over the place airhead who can’t tell right from left sometimes, forget you ever liking me. All that happened is that we became friends and I thought that this was as far as fate was gonna push us. All today told me was that … that was an overextension too. It was a wake up call that I can’t have everything in life. Things were going too well for us and I was letting myself think it could stay that way forever. I’m sorry for being this way, I’m sorry for making you feel uncomfortable and out of place. This is the last thing you’d want to hear from a friend and I’m sorry I’m putting you in this situation right now and that you had to go through that today-”

You don’t finish what your saying because you're interrupted. Interrupted by arms pulling you forward and into Mingyu in front of you.

Your both sitting in your living room at 3 AM, on the floor in front of your sofa like you both have so many times. Except now, Mingyu is holding you in his arms, and kissing you so delicately it hurts.

It’s warm, like getting into bed after a long day, the scent of home and security engulfing you as you begin to forget about the qualms of life.

He’s moving his lips slowly, with care and a feeling so overflowing you can’t describe.

He lets go slowly and rests his forehead against yours, his arms are around you tight, legs wrapped around your entire body so you can't escape - physically or mentally.

“You dumbass” You hear him say.

“I love you,Y/n. More than anything. And I need you to know that you don’t have to hide. If you think your thoughts are a burden then I want to carry it for you. I want you to realise you’re not alone. I want you to stop pushing me away. Everytime I want to do something nice for you, you try to push the effort to something else, everytime I try to take care of you, you have this look that makes me think you feel guilty for taking up my time or something. Everytime I think you’re about to ask me to stay the night, you remind me I have priorities and I should go, even though I know you want me to stay with you. I want you to stop caring so much for how other people feel and realise you can demand the same from the universe too. You deserve love and to be treated with care. You need to let people do that for you, love.”

Your looking at him now, your turn to have stars in your eyes.

He loves you.

And you feel it. You feel it in his words, in his eyes, in the kisses he’s leaving on your face, in his arms that are wrapped around you, ready to shield you from the world.

You don’t say anything as you fall into his chest, head on shoulder, relaxed body in the cage he’s made for you. You close your eyes as the tears are burning down your face. Except, this time they’re because your relieved.

You both got up from the uncomfortable floor and moved to your bed, still tangled within each other as you clarified everything else.

You found out that majority of the people who heard it were very upset at the situation, but didn’t know how to approach or confront her.

Seungkwan almost bust a blood vessel after he had digested what had happened, disbelief and threats on his tongue as he refused to get touched up by her during filming, apparently making a point to walk to somebody else. Seungcheol was thinking of trying to bring up the problem to management, considering how Mingyu too was distracted all the way home.

“The rest of them have gotten quite protective of you too, I think. It’s not like I shut up about you”

Apparently the only reason you were asked to start taking charge on makeup was because some of the other senior artists pressured your mentor to stop restricting you. It made you feel a little more secure that it wasn’t just you that felt pushed down.

She didn’t like that you were doing so well, considering it meant she was wrong about you and your abilities. It hurt her ego a little bit that people stopped preferring her to do their makeup or their touchups, how they wouldn’t interact with her the same way.

“Alot coming from a middle aged, married woman, attention seeking like a child” Mingyu added, scoffing with a sour face as he nuzzled into the crown of your head.

“The boys really like you by the way, they’ve been rooting for us since forever” He says, and your heart swells unimaginably so; you felt loved, so so loved.

You scooch up to plant a kiss on the underside of his chin and then one on his lips.

“That makes me happy”

“I’m happy that you’re happy. You deserve to be happy, everyday” He smooches you on the face again. “Oh, and don’t worry about that stinky face I’ll take care of her”

You laugh at the determination in his voice, but you wanted to clarify something.

“Please, let me handle her myself. I’ll ask for help if she’s stubborn but I wanna try by myself first”

“That was hot”

You push his chest away as you bark out a laugh at the random comment, hiding you face, by turning the other way.

He battles that by pull you back into his chest and continuing his atics

“What I can’t call my girlfriend hot. You’re hot. Your the sexiest motherfucker I’ve ever seen” smooch “You’re beautiful” and again  “amazing” and again “gorgeous spectacular-”

You don’t fall asleep until the sun has well made its way up the sky, taking the executive decision to sleep in till way past lunch and maybe even take a nap afterwards.

You don’t care how it goes, because your happy just being with him.

***

You met with Yoona a couple days later at a cafe.

“Seungcheol asked us if we were facing the same kind of behaviour from her too. And everyone told him she was stuck up and rude and stuff. He said he wanted to bring it up to management but it didn’t really concern him directly so they wouldn’t listen. He told us to do so ourselves and we thought about it, but we’re gonna need to tell them about that too”

You nod your head as you listen to her speak, it was making sense.

“I dont mind going up to management at all and talking about it. I get that the rest of the stuff is a little too tame to be considered, which sucks because she shouldn’t be talking to us like that at all”

“Mhm, and I was thinking we could vouch for you on how she was restraining you for almost a year. Basically not letting you do your job. That’d be a another thing for them to think about”

“Yeah. Let’s do it asap, how’s this Monday?”

“Perfect, I’ll add everyone to a group chat and let them know”

And go up to management you did, who were surprisingly understanding. Apparently having received multiple reports and even videos of the most recent incident to act as proof. It was working out for all of you, and it proved to stay that way as they responded with a promise to shift her to a different department.

You had gone home that day feeling fulfilled and relieved. Mingyu, a man with spectacular timing had also proceeded to send you a text as a distraction,

[Mingyu]: Kwan wants to come over

[Mingyu]: something about croissants

[Mingyu]: Should he text you ab it?

[You]: yeah ofc

[You]: I’ll order the butter

[You]: you tell him to text me lol

Two nights ago felt like it happened last year with all the unimaginable advances deciding to happen within the past 48 hours. Right now you were more excited for the company you were about to recieve, more concerned with making sure you made the best batch of croissants Seungkwan ever did see.

***

You were in the car with Mingyu outside the company building, waiting until the clock struck 9 to go inside.

Today was the last day you’d think about this, being called up for a face to face meeting with the staff member, so she could formally apologise. The team had planned a dinner tonight, to celebrate the end of her ‘wicked reign’ as Yoona described it.

You were finding friends everywhere, ones that were always there, pulling through for each other as you yourself navigated a new direction of thinking for yourself. You were learning to walk past your anxiety ridden desire to draw lines with everyone, as you took the first step with the dinner tonight. It would be fun for you, and a bond you’d begin to build.

You learned that you weren’t delusional anymore, and that Mingyu did love you the same. It had only been a week or so, but one of the happiest weeks of your life, despite everything. He was teaching you more lessons than he thought he was.

Mingyu squeezes your hand from the driver’s side as it was past 9, “Let’s go?”

“Lets go”

***

Mingyu’s way too enthusiastic as soon as he wakes up, indulging you in a morning (afternoon) makeout session, claiming he doesn’t care for you morning breath.

“Well I do!” you exclaim, pushing him off with a giggle “About your morning breath, stinky”

He clutches his chest in dramatic offense, “How could you? I thought you loved me”

You respond my projecting a cushion to his face.

“Do you want pancakes or eggs for breakfast?” You ask, legs hanging over the bed.

Mingyu looks up, a wicked glint in his eye, and you immediately know he’s going to say something of no help.

“I want you for breakfast” He says, grabbing you by the waist and pulling you back in bed.

“MINGYU!”

Needless to say, all was well.

[solarnomoon]

ice ice baby - park sunghoon

the first time you went ice skating you almost fell. thankfully a taller guy was there to catch you. surprise surprise, of course it had to be sunghoon, king of the school, ice prince, whatever.

pairing >>> sunghoon x male reader

tags >>> college au, fluff, strangers to friends to more than friends (lovers?), ice skating, falling, idfk, sunghoon being a little forward

author's note >>> LOL hello i apologize for dying. i realize how much i miss this account and ive just been itching to come back so here i am

you knew coming to the ice rink was a mistake to begin with. i mean, come on, your ass was a fucking ice skating virgin: you'd never been before, so why would you even bother starting now?

alas, your best friend had stayed up all night watching yuzuru hanyu videos and all of a sudden, he felt the urge to begin ice skating, compelling you that it's "a calling" and if you guys didn't "drive to partake in the artistic media form that is ice skating" then you'd "lose the individuality that the human spirit guides us with."

...whatever that means.

at least he paid for you! a win's a win sometimes.

"c'mon y/n, you have to get off the railing at some point!" sunoo calls to you, skating in reverse to watch you. the edge had become your safety net, allowing you to actually move somewhat on the ice. sunoo on the other hand had somehow become a pro within the 15 minutes since you guys arrived, being able to skate forwards, backwards, eyes closed, anything possible. he even started gaining an understanding of how to spin, and was attempting to learn how to execute an axel.

you were still just trying to walk normally, not knowing how to know the difference between skating and walking. "sunoo, unfortunately i cannot let go of this fucking railing or i will die."

the boy just laughs at you, eyes rolling back. "you're exaggerating, just let go for one second!" you watch as he leaves you, gliding along the ice as if it was simply made for him.

building up the confidence, you finally stray away from the railing, letting go of your one protection spell from you upright and you on the floor. as you float along the ice, you feel that sense of freedom that sunoo was pestering you about, and you speed up, the skates on your feet becoming an outlet for your vitality.

but unfortunately, you were not yuzuru hanyu, nor were you kim sunoo. you misplace one foot, causing an imbalance in your body. you knew this was it. in front of all of these people, atleast 4 500 for sure, you were going to literally eat shit and die.

as you begin to fall, you brace for impact and close your eyes, but the collapse never happens, and instead, you feel someone's body holding yours, catching the impending descent to the ice.

"you okay?" the guy asks, and only after he said it was when you opened your eyes and looked up at him. though it takes you a moment, a flash of recognition eventually appeared in your brain. park sunghoon. king of the ice, king of the school. the renowned ice prince, the ice skater that competed in the olympics. "oh, y/n. are you okay?"

"y-yeah, sorry," you cover your face with your hands, muttering under your breath, "oh my god i almost died."

apparently it was in fact, not under your breath, because this gets a snicker out of the man, responding to you, "you did not almost die. maybe fall, but death is too much." he grabs you by the arm and skates you both toward the edge again, allowing you to grasp onto your lifeline once more.

"thank you, sunghoon. i'm sorry again for... i don't know. maybe it was a good thing, now you know that i'm shit at ice skating, i don't know how you do this." you observe him with your full attention now, noticing how he's dressed in a basic outfit with a beanie and headphones as if he knew that this would be a simple activity for him. not only this, but he has sunglasses on, presumably to hide his demeanor: he's kind of a celebrity around here.

"it's alright y/n, i told you already. plus, you're not that bad. you're just... learning." he seems like the last part was an afterthought, and you assume that he was going to say something more negative before changing his wording. "are you here alone?"

"nah, i'm here with sunoo. what about you?"

he flashes a quick smile, lifting his sunglasses to make eye contact with you. when he does, you look at his face closely, and realize he really is as cute as people say. you never really cared to notice him, as to you, he was just some guy that happened to have an expertise in ice skating. seeing him up close, you understand why people could develop crushes: his face was perfectly symmetrical with the only thing varied was the mole on his nose, but he has an extremely aesthetic face. his body was also perfect, broad shoulders with a smaller waist.

huh.

"just here alone. now i'm with you. so not alone." when he smiles, you could see how cute he really is, his fangs on both sides of his teeth accentuate his cuteness, offering a tinge of fierceness if he was focused. you both stare at each other for seconds too long, neither of you wanting to break the gaze. eventually, he looks away, saying to you, "wanna see something cool?" obviously you nod, and you watch as he skates away, accelerating before jumping right into a double axel, landing gracefully before coming right back to you.

you clap quickly, not wanting to let go of the edge for too long, "wow, impressive! i could do that too probably."

"oh yeah, cause you're like the best skater right? i think i've watched your videos before online." he motions a rectangle in front of him like a screen, "y/n l/n, triple axel, into a hydroblade, ending with two flying spins."

you scoff, flicking your wrist in front of him. "you know it bro, real recognizes real."

"for real." he looks at you with a straight face before bursting into laughter. "you're pretty funny you know, i'm surprised we haven't talked much before."

you scratch your head, "well, it's pretty hard when you're just the coolest, bestest, sexiest, beast of a skater." you joke with him.

"you think that of me?" he asks, one fang turning visible as he smirks.

"i was actually talking about me, thank you very much."

he hits his head in faux stupidity, smile not faltering from his face however. "oh, silly me. i should've known, like you said."

"what did i say?"

"real recognizes real." he removes his gaze from you to check his watch quickly before looking back at you. "you know, it's getting pretty late for a guy like you."

you whip your phone our from your back pocket. "sunghoon, it's literally 5:32 in the p.m. i can literally see the sun still."

he laughs awkwardly, "well, still late for a pretty boy like you."

"p-pretty?" you stare at him, wondering whether or not he meant to tell you that or not. "what are you talking about dude?"

"i said what i said. i meant that it's late, the ring closes at 6 today because of some hockey players wanting to run scrims before their tournament," sunghoon explains, leaning on the railing next to you. "i'm probably gonna leave soon anyway, so maybe you and sunoo can join me in getting dinner? if you want of course, i don't know if you have plans already."

"honestly, me and sunoo are supposed to get dinner with just each other, so maybe-" you begin to tell him, but then you notice sunoo talking to his crush on the other side of the ring, and a second later a text from said boy shows up.

[5:34 PM]

ALERT. CODE BLUE.

OK LOWKEY I REALIZE U DONT KNO WHAT THAT MEANS WEVE NEVER DONE CODES ANYWAY ICU TALKING TO SUNGHOON SO GO HANG OUT WITH HIM I WILL HANG OUT WITH MY MANSSSSSS XOXOXOOXO

"-you know what? let's get dinner. sunoo is actually busy all of a sudden." you roll your eyes when you make eye contact with sunoo, him giving you two thumbs up and a cheeky smile as his crush types something down on his phone.

"perfect. i wanted it to just be us. maybe i'll kidnap you and put you in my basement." the confusion on your face must've been evident, because he immediately follows up with "i was kidding. let's just get dinner." with that, he leaves you once again, skating around the rink with a few more tricks before coming back to you, signaling for you to follow him.

you do, getting out of the rink walking along the edge before sitting down next to him. you reach over to untie your laces, before sunghoon ushers you back, simultaneously getting on his knees in front of you, holding your right skate in front of him. "what are you doing?"

"untying your skate, why?"

"i can do it myself, you know?" you look straight into his eyes, tilting your head slightly.

"pretty boys shouldn't have to do anything," he suggests before giving you a little wink, causing you to turn away, not able to meet his eyes after his stupid flirtatious comment.

"w-well, what about you then!"

he removes your skate before moving on to the next one. "oh, so you think i'm a pretty boy huh? good to know." he unlaces your other skate before sitting down next to you, untying his own with haste. it clearly comes from experience, because it's no less than 15 seconds before he's up again, grabbing his sneakers, along with your own to your surprise. "here. so you don't have to get up."

"how do you know what my sneakers look like?"

"i saw you come in."

you lightly hit his shoulder. "so you were watching me the whole time?"

"cute boys deserve attention, wouldn't you say so?"

he goes back down to your feet and signals to put on your sneakers again. "i mean yeah but... you? finding me cute? hard to believe i guess."

"can't be that hard," you allow him to finish tying both shoes before helping him off the ground. you didn't even notice but he also had switched shoes with dexterity, leading you to wonder how much experience he has with these kind of things. "i've been watching you for a while honestly." he waves with his hands in front of you. "not like that, but more of like you're kinda like my school crush in a way."

you can't believe your ears. park sunghoon, king of the school, ice fucking prince, had a hallway school crush on you? y/n l/n. you didn't even feel like you stood out that much, just wanted to get your degree and leave. "school crush? there's just no way." you begin to walk away, not being able to face him without embarrassment flushing your face.

however, he clearly had other plans. "y/n." he grabs your arm, forcing you to look up at him. his eyes bore into yours, keeping you in a trance as you look at his face. "you're one of the cutest guys i've ever seen in my entire life. and i've seen a lot of people in my life already. please, just trust me when i say this."

and that was all the validation you needed. "oh. okay sunghoon. i trust you."

"good boy. now let's go get dinner, alright?"

and with that, he led you to his car to drive to dinner.

maybe the ice prince wasn't so cold after all.

[scribblekingdom]

Yapper x (not) Listener...? (Their IT poses)

Full yap below bc I spent way too much time typing it out 💀

Alhaitham, do you want to hear about my day? Of course you do, my little Junior- urgh, you-!! You're not little anymore, damn you, I miss my cute Junior, what did you do with him?? Anyways, you should be proud of me, I got more sleep than usual! 4 hours instead of 3, not bad for an improvement right? I even had more than a Zaytun peach for breakfast- TWO PEACHES!! Life is looking up. Anyways, I went to meet up with my clients and ran into Nilou. She's doing well! We talked about her newest performance- she's opening tomorrow, and I told her we'd be there. Don't pretend you have plans, you can come out of your hidey-hole for one evening to support a friend. Although it's too late to do it this time, I offered to make her props for her next performance- before you say anything, I am ALWAYS going to find time to help out my friends- don't you even start!!! Alhaitham, are you even listening to me?? I can see you smirking, nothing I said was funny- you're doing something with your earpieces, aren't you!? Ugh... you used to be so sweet, when did you get so snarky?? You know what?? You've made me mad enough to break the fourth wall. That's right, Alhaitham, I'm going to do it. How could the artist use such a small canvas size for this comic? I'm sure she will regret using a measly 2048 x 1536 pixel canvas. I would NEVER make the mistake of clicking the wrong size and not noticing until too far in... don't even look at me like that Alhaitham. I don't even know what pixels are. "Digital" art? What is that?? Don't pretend like you know either!! What are you saying.... I should stop talking about this, or I might wake up the Heavenly Principles? Ugh, you're so stupid.... fine!!! Just this once I'll listen to you. Why do I need to be in love with you... wait did I say that out loud? Alhaitham, your noise cancelling is turned on right??? RIGHT??? ALHAITHAM????? Ugh- STOP SMIRKING- YOU-!!!

(The things I do for these two idiots...)

[anananass]

Wriothesley reacting to you telling him you’re pregnant

warning: a little suggestive but otherwise extremely sweet because he is a silly man with a big heart in my eyes

note: I will keep this one part with him only but AHHH I’m planning on doing some of the other boys in the near future because hughshhsh

Wriothesley

You decide to bring the fortunate news at the most random moment ever.

There you are, enjoying some tea in silence during his afternoon break whilst both your favorite artist plays in the background making the best atmosphere for a regular afternoon.

Truthfully, you figured the news not too long ago but right when you found out, you thought of how you should inform him. Wrio loves children from the bottom of his heart and does anything in his power to assure their safety and well being and that alone causes you to melt at the simplest thought of telling him that he himself is going to be a father. But how should you tell him???

He deserves to fibf out in a big way but at the same time, can you really resist keeping your lips shut???

To sum up, you can’t, not with the tensed look he is flashing you. Is he able to read the air and notice you are pondering really hard?

“Something on your mind, darling?” He asks, genuinely curious, but when you take longer than usual to respond his expression turns into one of worry. Still, he is so sweet and just assumes you might have a little difficulty with telling him what’s bothering you so he gives you the time.

But his icy eyes and the awkward silence consume you so much that you sigh and just stare at him for a little longer. You need to figure how you’re gonna word all that and it’s okay, he doesn’t mind it although it’s eating at him.

“There is something I should tell you.” You finally utter whilst holding back your breath for the big announcement you’re about to make. However, he mistakes your enthusiasm and excitement for worry and anxiety.

“Come on, tell me. Whatever it is, I’ll take care of it. Anything it is, just say it and it’s done. ” He insists and lifts himself from the chair just to cut the corner of the desk so he can kneel before you to bring a sense of comfort within you. He even holds your hand and stares deeply into your eyes and dear god, the tint of wonder mixed with concern in his eyes is killing you.

You gulp and take a big breath before unleashing the news. “You know… remember when I told you back then that you’d make a great father? When you took care of that lost child?”

“Yeah, what about it?” He doesn’t catch the hint but only because his priority is your current mental wellbeing that he has to ensure is fine.

“What if I told you that you WILL be a great father?” As soon as the words leave your mouth, you give him the brightest, the most radiant smile that he has ever laid his eyes on, and even with that he can’t figure what you’re referencing.

He remains unresponsive for a second and soon enough, the digits begin to add up. He is going to be… a father?? Is that what you meant??? He has to make sure he’s not getting the wrong idea.

“y/n.” He murmurs, sounding all soft and quiet while his eyebrows raise. His eyes begin traversing your whole face and it’s looking a bit more intense than he probably intended.

“Wrio.” You repeat after him, just waiting for him to say it himself.

“Am I going to be one?” Those words barely slip his throat, they sound almost stuttered, as if he was holding back tears perhaps? His heart races the more he processes this possible information.

you don’t give him a straight answer but lower your head to your belly and place gentle rubs against the lower of your stomach, occasionally flashing him glimpses of your eyes.

His eyes follow your motions and he is utterly unable to take his eyes off you. He allows for the silence to settle once more and instead firmly places his wide hand against yours so he could feel your touch, and where the baby will be. You notice a gentle smile paint his face, and with each second it seems to be widening more and more.

That’s your favorite side of him to see and it’s fine, he doesn’t need to say anything more, his gesture is just enough to show you how content he is right now.

However, as soon as both your eyes lock back onto each other, he leans in to melt a kiss against your partly open lips. Now that he’s much closer, you can hear his heavy breathing growing steadied. Then, you feel his hand slowly creep closer to your lower back and within a few seconds, he begins pushing you closer toward him. His other hand finds your thighs as a resting spot. His fingers tug at your skin but different than usual, it’s rather a gentle grip that still pushes you to make some noises that are music to his ears.

Shortly after, he parts away from you. “God, the way you’ll look so stunning.” He mouths softly and immediately eyes your belly again.

He can’t lie to himself but feel a little worried about how he’ll handle a child. Not that it’ll be a hard thing to do, but… will he be a good one? Will he be up to his own standards and be the father he never had but yearned so deeply for? Will he take good care of you? Is he worthy of such a blessing in his life? And most importantly, will you still consider him worthy of being a father afterwards? You know, definitely not because he wants more than one child.

[itsjustelian]

Spoilers for Ep 1 of Link Click's Bridon Arc

Did anyone else realize that all the people they ran into this episode were in some way a parallel to what Lu Guang was going through?

1. The Cosplayer was concerned that she would regret her choice to become a comic artist. She didn't want to commit to it and then have it ruin her love for art. I feel like that's something that Lu Guang would genuinely have to grapple with if he's gone back over and over. Would there be a point where he regrets it? What if he starts to resent the people he's trying to save?

Also, with that arc is the comic artist saying "Don't give up on your flashlight." And I feel like that ones kinds obvious. With Cheng Xiaoshi being the flashlight in the scenario. To keep going even if it seems impossible, even if you're taking the harder route.

2. With Zhou Xun, I mainly noticed when Qiao Ling was like, "He seems so smart but us so irrational because he's in love," and even platonically, it's so clear that Lu Guang loves Cheng Xiaoshi (you don't do the shit he does if you don't) and he is currently doing an irrational thing in his attempt to save him. There's no guarantee this works. There's no guarantee he doesn't actually tear time and space apart doing this. But he is. The same way Zhou Xun is (albeit kinda stupidly) trusting and enamored with Vivan. He has no reason to trust her after the others reveal her lies, but he's emotionally connected to her, and he doesn't want to let go. He doesn't want to give her up.

3. With Vivian, it was more at the end and less to do with her situation and more her thoughts on it. She mentions wanting a relationship free of lies, something that Lu Guang no longer has. Inherently, his relationship with Cheng Xiaoshi is built on lies. In a way, it comes back to Season 1, Ep 2, where Cheng Xiaoshi questions if they'd still be friends even if they disagreed on something. He is being kept purposefully in the dark (for his own benefit, yes, but still) by Lu Guang and its going to put a strain on their relationship even if he doesn't know its there (As a side note. I do really hope that at some point Cheng Xiaoshi learns about what Lu Guang is doing. It'll hurt so bad but I do want to see his reaction).

Also, Vivian mentions wanting to go to Bridon, which is a very fun (if not obvious) reference to the rest of the Bridon arc loll.

(It is very late, and i am emotionally drained from that episode, so if there's any mistakes in this please let me know 🥲)

[lets-try-some-writing]

Okay, I was reading the Mr. Pax Teacher Au and this idea popped in my head. So basically Optimus is finishing up a work day and a staff member comes up saying someone is here claiming to be his ‘wife’. Optimus questions the staff for a bit and then they reveal they have “pink hair”. Optimus then goes outside to see someone patiently waiting for him with a smile. (I’m a sucker for OptimusxElita, sue me!) Also Elita going “Yeah, you would.” Cause she just knows him. Hope this idea is fun for you!

Well I can't NOT write a snippet for this thank you. I have exactly two ships that I will devour without hesitation and Optimus/Elita happens to be one of them.

━━━━━━ ⊙ ❖ ⊙ ━━━━━━━━━━━━

Optimus's digits tapped on the desk along to the beat of a simple tune he hummed to himself as he looked over the day's papers. There were quite a few interesting pieces from his young archivists- students. His dear students. They showed such interest in the history he taught them. It was a joy to watch them grow and thrive under his tutelage.

"Abigail, you impress me yet again." He smiled as he looked over the girl's artwork. The assignment for the week had been to compose a model of something Cybertronian. Abigail, one of his more artistic students, had created quite the work of art. Despite having never seen any actual images of Optimus's fallen world, she managed to capture an admittedly quite accurate, if a tad abstract, vision of Uraya. It prompted his spark to flare in joy within his true frame.

"Mr. Pax, apologies for intruding." A feminine voice broke him from his work, prompting Optimus to place down his pile of paperwork and look up. Mrs. Glass, the school nurse, stood in the doorway nervously. She patted down her knitted sweater in what Optimus could only assume was anxiety considering the lack of any noticeable contaminant.

"Can I help you Mrs. Glass?" The nurse shifted uncomfortably before she nodded. Optimus stood up slowly, concern growing in his processors as he ran through the possible issues that might have arisen while he was working. Was the headmaster trying to tamper with affairs again?

"There is a woman outside who is claiming to be your wife." Optimus froze, his expression shifting as he tried to parse out what was happening. Arcee had already taken on the role of "aunt" for Jack. Being Optimus's wife would break her cover. It couldn't be June either for similar reasons.

Was he being stalked?

"Does she have any distinguishing features?" His expression settled into something firm as he readied himself to have to politely tell a confused woman that she had the wrong individual.

"She has pink hair and bright blue eyes. I think she might be wearing colored contacts." Whatever worry was settling into his spark halted the moment he got out the door and heard the nurse's explanation. Instead, faint hope grew steadily as he increased his pace and Mrs. Glass continued.

"She stated that her name was Ariel of Iacon. Although I am not sure where that city is-" Optimus stopped listening and broke into a sprint as he forced his holoform to go faster than it should have been able to according to human biology.

She couldn't be here.

He sent her away after the Allspark was taken from its place.

There was no way his Conjunx was on Earth after so many millennia apart.

"Being a teacher suites you." It was not the voice he knew, not entirely. There was none of the underlying glyphs or tones of their homeworld, but he knew her voice anywhere. He could never mistake her.

"Elita." He stepped out, his holoform momentarily flickering as Elita-One waited for him patiently, her arms crossed over her chest and a font smile on her face. He could almost see the mighty warrior that was his Conjunx through the veil of her disguise. He could hardly wait to wrap her in his arms properly as soon as they were away from prying optics.

"I missed you." She was the first to wrap her arms around him, organic as they were. Their forms melded in places as their holoforms struggled to maintain the illusion alongside their raging emotional states. However, Optimus found he didn't care as he looked into oh so human eyes and saw the spark of a Cybertronian hidden behind them.

She was here. He didn't know how or why, but Elita was here with him once more.

"I stopped by your base before I came here. I wanted it to be a surprise." She laughed as she nuzzled against his neck, searching for sensory lines that where not there. Optimus wrapped his limited EM field around her as he processed her presence and relished in it.

"It has been a most pleasant surprise to see you here after so long." Distantly, he noted Mrs. Glass watching from the school entrance. Optimus didn't bother looking back as he pulled away and took Elita's hands in his. The paperwork could be dealt with later. For now, there were bonds to be reforged, memories to share, and many long cycles apart to make up for.

"To base then?" Elita smiled up at him. Optimus could almost imagine her antennae perking up as he grinned in response.

"If that is what you want love."

[pamwritessometimes]

British Invasion

Soldier Boy x (British)fem!reader

Summary: Soldier Boy is forced to attend a lavish gallery opening for an emerging artist, expecting nothing more than a typical evening of pretentious small talk and overpriced art. But when he gets to know the artist herself, he quickly realizes they might share more than one thing in common.

proofread & edited on 8/21/24

Warnings: unprotected SMUT (be smarter), pet names, some 60s slang, breeding kink if you squint, terrible writing, AmE and BritE use is varied based on the characters

Word Count: around 4.7 k

Author’s Note: This is my VERY first fic I have written since I was a teenager. English isn’t my first language, so I apologise for any mistakes. Please be kind. 🤍 All kinds of feedback are appreciated!

═════════ 𖤐🤍𖤐 ═════════

May, 1962.

He tried his best to understand what he was looking at. The colours danced in a confusing symphony - deep red lines flashing across the canvas, yellow streaks breaking through the tainted blue background. It was an odd mix of serenity and unease, a puzzle that felt both ambiguous and crystal-clear. Not that he had any expertise in art, he was a superhero, after all. Analyzing abstract paintings was hardly part of the job description. Thank God and Vought for that. He didn't even know why he was there in the first place, stripped of his imposing suit, which at least gave him the semblance of authority. “This will do wonders for your image. Supporting some up-and-coming artists is exactly what we need to repair that reputation you seem so determined to destroy.” 

“Yeah, fuck that.” he thought, scanning the room until his eyes landed on a tray of champagne glasses amidst the other hors d’oeuvres. At least there was free booze. He swiftly grabbed a glass, downed it in one go, and swapped it for another. He barely noticed the presence next to him when he stood back to pretend to interpret the same painting he had been looking at for the last fifteen minutes. 

"Do you like it?" a voice with a soft British lilt called out from his right. He turned to see the source—a striking beauty with (Y/H/C) hair styled in a classic beehive. Her makeup was flawless, with bold eyeliner and red lipstick that enhanced her gorgeous features. The elegant black dress she wore hugged her curves in all the right places, and for a moment, he felt his already tight pants grow even more uncomfortable. "You’ve been staring at it for quite a while."

He quickly gathered himself, a charming smile sliding into place as he responded with feigned confidence. 

"I do, yeah. I really like the... uh, colors and how... this line curves," he replied, trying his best to sound like he knew what he was talking about. “It… makes one feel uncertain and… and certain at the same time.”

“Does it?” she asks, her sceptical eyes glued to the canvas. "To me, it just brings back memories of a February night when I drowned my sorrows in a cheap bottle of rum after finding out I didn’t get into RCA."

His brows furrowed as he looked at the girl next to her taking a sip of her champagne. “You painted this?” he asked. She just nodded in response, her eyes still fixed on the framed painting. “Busted” she chuckled awkwardly. He looked back at the artwork once more and it suddenly all made sense. It was a testament of chaos, the rage and unsettle she must have felt when creating it. Plus, being drunk while creating something? That, he could understand. “I’m (Y/N)... (Y/L/N). But I believe you figured that out.” she said as she nodded to the signed painting.

He smiled and nodded. “Benjamin,” came the reply. “But please, just call me Ben.”

She nodded and smiled at him. “So, Ben… What brings you to London?”

“I'm here for work.” he replied casually. It wasn't a complete lie, per se. He could tell the truth, she will learn it soon anyway. But for now, he just wanted a normal conversation, free from the weight of being America’s Greatest Hero. Just for a couple of minutes.

“I see” she said as she eyed him with great attention to every detail of his appearance.  His dirty blonde hair was slicked back with a sophisticated touch, and his tailored suit and slacks fit him impeccably. "Are you some kind of actor?" she asked finally.

“Among other things.” his tone playful, reflecting on the fact that he enjoyed her not recognizing him. “Why?”

"I was just wondering," she shrugged, finishing the last sip of her drink. "When I first saw you, I thought, ‘He’s either a soldier, a businessman, or an actor.’ Your physique suggests military, but then I took a closer look at your suit, and– may I?" she asked, lifting her hand toward his jacket. With a nod, she touched the fabric. "As I suspected. Kid mohair. No soldier I know could afford that. So, that left businessman or actor. Now, here comes my first observation: your athletic build. If you were an accountant or something like that, you probably wouldn’t be this fit. So, my conclusion? You’re an actor." She smiled, clearly pleased with her deductive reasoning.

He chuckled, clearly amused by her careful observation. “You are quite the observer, aren’t you, sweetheart?” he asked.

That she was. Her favourite hobby was studying people. Every little feature, every line and detail that made them unique. Later, she would capture those fascinating subjects in drawings from memory. Any details that became hazy would be filled in by her imagination. She did the same to him; just memorising his lines (though the nickname almost made the whole process cease).

“So this whole happening… is it all for you?”

She just scoffed. “They say it is” she started, though her face was soaked with clear annoyance. “But I believe it’s more for my agent. He said he found great patrons for this current collection. They want me to go overseas for a potential business proposition.”

At the mention of that, Ben's eyes gleamed with a mischievous spark. The Vought executives had briefed him on their plans to renovate the entire Tower. Stronger foundations, new levels, and, of course, fresh furnishings and decor. That was the real reason he was here in the first place. For whatever reason, Vought wanted (Y/N)'s artwork to grace the Tower's walls. He’d flown in with some executives to evaluate her latest collection, to decide whether it was worth the investment. It wasn’t his decision, of course; he had no real say in the final call. But to the public, he was the face of Vought, their most powerful representative, so his presence was required by his superiors.

“Miss (Y/L/N), it is time” the aforementioned agent’s voice cut through their conversation. She took a deep breath before turning to face the charming looking man in his early thirties.

“I’ll be there in a minute, Greg.”

Greg then nodded and smiled at the two. “I see you met one of your patrons already.” he said as he nodded towards Ben. “It’s an honour to have you here, Soldier Boy. I hope you enjoy your time in our country.”

Ben nodded, a smug grin spreading across his face as he kept his gaze locked on (Y/N), who now wore an expression of stunned realisation. She had only just realised who she had been casually conversing with. “I’m enjoying it so far, very much,” he replied, his voice dripping with satisfaction.

“Alright, Miss (Y/L/N), please say goodbye to the gentleman and follow me.” Greg interjected, his tone formal and clipped, as if he were conducting some high-stakes business transaction.

She swallowed the urge to roll her eyes at the mannerism of the whole conversation. That was one of the many things she hated about the art society she was part of. The pretentious idiosyncrasy and the sense of being loftier than the others. If she had the resources to fund her own artistry, she would leave it all behind. But unlike her peers, who all came from money, she wasn’t that fortunate. Her parents, God bless them, did everything they could to support her, but it was never enough for her to break free. Now, under the thumb of Greg—THE Gregory Alcons, the most influential artist agent in the region—she had little choice but to play along.

Still a bit flabbergasted by the previous revelations of Ben’s identity, she managed to compose herself and glanced at his green orbs. “It was nice meeting you, Soldier Boy. I hope to see you around,” she said, her voice steadier than she felt.

As she turned to follow Greg, Ben couldn’t tear his eyes away from the way her hips swayed in that sinfully tight black dress. If he didn’t know better, he might just think it was all for him. 

(Y/N)’s speech was a drag. Even she knew that. Every word was scripted, every pause rehearsed, her smile a mask. Like a goddamn politician–she often thought to herself. Nonetheless, her official duties of the gathering still didn’t end, but she could now move around more freely, trying to charm the people gathered in the museum, occasionally sipping on champagne to look for that blitzed state she was so eager to reach. She just wished she had something stronger. During her museum circles, she heard some speeches that she couldn't care less about. Mostly influential old hags talking nonsense about the importance of art patronage and trusting the vision of an artist... She also heard Soldier Boy's brief speech, but she was too occupied to talk to the other guests, she couldn't stop and listen to it.

The smooth jazz tunes created an atmospheric scene, adding to the illusion of sophistication. The guests seemed to be amazed by it all–the champagne, the music, the elegant attires, the modest speeches… yet, she couldn’t care less. This wasn’t her world. It was all a grand performance, and she felt like an imposter in the spotlight of her own art exhibition. She was chatting with a man in his early to mid-seventies about the long-term consequences of giving freedom riders a platform to talk when a familiar rumble cut though the conversation.

“Can I borrow Miss (Y/L/N) for a minute?” 

Relief washed over her as she turned to see Ben—no, Soldier Boy—in his full supe attire, helmet and all (he certainly just finished his speech duties, too). If she had to pretend to share one more of the old man’s bigoted views, she might have committed murder. Soldier Boy was by far her greatest conversation partner tonight, and probably the most tolerable person in the room, which speaks for how entertaining the gathering is. The elderly man tried to hide his disappointment, but reluctantly let her go. 

“Wow,” she muttered, taking in Soldier Boy’s imposing presence. “Now, this is the Soldier Boy I’ve seen in the telly.” Her voice dropped to a sheepish tone. “And… sorry for not recognising you earlier.”

“Can’t say it didn’t hurt,” he replied with a smirk “But it’s also nice knowing that it’s the suit that most people recognize, not my face.”

(Y/N) offered Soldier Boy another small, apologetic smile before letting her eyes drift across the room. The jazz band was playing a smooth set that impressed the crowd but grated on her nerves. The soft melodies and gentle horns just didn’t resonate with her. If she had her way, she’d have had her friends, Gerry & The Pacemakers, play instead—something with real energy, something raw. But, of course, that wouldn’t have flown with Greg or the rest of the stuffy art crowd. They were too wrapped up in their own pretentiousness to appreciate anything that didn’t fit their narrow idea of ‘classy’.

She took another sip of champagne, but it did little to ease her frustration. She felt trapped, stuck in a night that was supposed to be hers but felt like anything but. All she really wanted was to be with real people, having real conversations, and listening to music that made her feel alive. Instead, she was here, pretending to enjoy the company of people who saw her as nothing more than a name to drop at their next social event.

“You’re not exactly enjoying this, are you?” Soldier Boy’s voice cut through her thoughts, bringing her back to reality. His tone was amused, but there was a hint of genuine curiosity there too.

She looked up at him, surprised he noticed. “Is it that obvious?” she asked with a slight smile.

“To most people here? Probably not. But I can tell,” he said with a shrug. “You’re too real for this crowd.” He leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a low murmur. “How about we get out of here?”

(Y/N) hesitated, glancing around the room filled with guests who were supposed to be admiring her work. “I wish I could go somewhere more fun. But this is my show. Not mine mine, obviously, but I can't just disappear,” she said, sighing. “Plus, Greg would kill me if I bailed.”

Soldier Boy smirked, undeterred. “I’m not saying ditch the whole thing, just take a break. Clear your head, get away from all this for a few minutes.” He paused, lowering his voice. “You deserve that much, don’t you?”

She bit her lip, tempted by the offer. The idea of stepping away, even just for a little while, was more appealing than she wanted to admit. Especially with such a handsome-looking bastard. “And where exactly would we go?” she asked, intrigued.

His smile widened, a mix of charm and mischief. “Trust me,” he said, offering his arm. “You’ll like it better than this place.”

═════════ 𖤐🤍𖤐 ═════════

She would lie if she said she didn’t see this coming. She was more than a bit tipsy, but who is she to fool? She would’ve followed Ben to the staff restroom sober, without any question. She needed to release some tension, and he was more than happy to oblige. His calloused thumb was drawing invisible circles on her swollen clit as his cock pounded in and out of her juicy, tight hole. 

“Fuck, sweetheart–” he growled into her ears as his other hand was leaning on the counter, trapping her body between the cold surface and his heated body. It was all quick, filthy, but –oh so needed. Her watery eyes were locked on his reflection in the mirror as she observed both his ecstasy-filled pupils and her rather dishevelled appearance. Either of her boobs were bouncing with each harsh thrust of his hips, stark contrast to that tight black dress that still clung to the rest of her body.

How they ended up like this was both a blur and a logical consequence of their desire. One moment they were talking, and the next, they were stumbling into the restroom, hands all over each other. Soldier Boy’s strong body pressed her back against the door, his lips crashing against hers with a fierce hunger. She didn’t hold back, kissing him with just as much intensity. She melted into his lips and wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him coser. She gasped softly as his tongue swiped against her lower lip, asking for entrance. She granted it, his tongue slipping past her plush lips and exploring her mouth while her hands were busy finding a way to rip off his tactical vest. Fuck, why does a supe suit has to be so complicated? 

He soon noticed her efforts to undress him, so he leaned back for a moment with that same smug grin he always seemed to wear, and began to take his suit off. She hurried to do the same when Ben’s voice commanded her to stay put. “That dress stays.” he said, his voice low and sultry. “Couldn’t tear my eyes off of you, you know that? Wearing a dress so fuckin’ tight… swaying your hips like you did… was it all just to drive me crazy, huh?” he asked as he got rid of her suit, now standing in front of her in his naked glory. 

She swallowed hard once his member sprang free–erected, the fat tip leaking with pre-cum. She obliged to his requests by rolling the skirt of the dress up to her perky butt. With delight, he discovered that she was wearing black panties with delicate lace trimming, which was overall already ruined by her soaked cunt. He growled at the sight, grabbing the base of his cock to pump himself a couple of times. She was about to pull her panties down, when he spoke up again. “Those also stay.”

“You are having many commands just for a little hookup” she remarked as she leaned her body closer to his, her palms replacing his on his shaft. Her hands were soft against his skin, his dick twitched by the touch. She pumped him a few times before stopping and releasing him completely. He let out an annoyed huff that quickly turned into a satisfied moan when he felt her hands once more around his cock, now coated with her saliva to add more to the pleasure and to prepare him to enter her already weeping pussy. 

Soldier Boy swiftly gripped her hips and spun her around to face the sink and the mirror above it, returning them to the position they’d just been in. “You’re a real tease, aren’t you?” he growled, his voice thick with desire. She could feel the need in his tone, matching the flame that burned inside her. He lifted one of her legs, giving himself better access, and she braced herself against the counter, anticipation running through her veins. “You're so beautiful. A beautiful tease.” he kissed a line along her spine.

“Yeah…you are just as much of a—” before she could finish the sentence, she felt the tip nudge at her entrance after pulling her panties to the side. It was that moment she finally came to terms with how huge he was. Seeing it, palming it wasn’t enough. Feeling the head of his cock spreading her folds was a whole other sensation. Before he would properly enter, he asked. “You sure you want this?” She couldn’t help but moan, her mind completely taken over by anticipation. Not trusting her voice, she just nodded fervently and pressed herself against him more. That was all Soldier Boy needed. He took a shaky breath and eased himself into her dripping cunt. The only sound in the room was their mingled, sinful noises that escaped both their mouths.

“Fuck….so tight…so fuckin’ wet…” Ben growled as quietly as he could. They were still in that museum, just a few rooms away from the exhibition. As much as he wanted people to hear them, he knew she would probably prefer their affair to stay hidden. 

He kept one hand on her hips, guiding her movements, while the other slid up her stomach, to her exposed breast, his fingers gently tracing over her sensitive nipple. The way it bounced at every thrust, every movement, and how the nipple hardened at his touch… Soldier Boy was known for his supe stamina, but he was already on the edge of coming undone. She was closely behind, her moans and gasps were music to his ears in a sinful symphony as she clenched her hands around the edge of the sink.

“Ben…please…”

“What? What do you need, honey?” he cooed.

“Please… h-harder.” it was more of an incoherent muffled cry than a plea. But he understood nonetheless. He ceased his speed, his hips clashing against hers in a relentless motion. He groaned, his body moving supernaturally fast, his grip on her hips almost bruising on her sensitive skin. 

His mouth attacked her neck, finding her sweet spot, the one that seemingly made her go feral. He sucked and bit that one spot like a madman, being on the mission to elicit as many sounds from her as he could.

“Fuck…baby, youre gonna kill me.” he mumbled into her neck. He felt he was nearing his climax and he needed to make sure she was there with him. He redoubled his efforts, his body moving against hers in a rhythm that was both brutal and beautiful. “You are squeezing me so fuckin’ tight. Shit, I can feel your pretty little cunt trying to push me out.” he said and delivered a brutal thrust to the hilt, burying himself inside for a moment. “Fuuuuck.”he said as he stopped to feel her convulsing pussy. He could feel she was close too. 

His voice, his words and the way his twitching cock was balls deep inside of her made her go feral. “Soldier Boy, I…please… I need to–” his fingers stopped their ministrations on her nipples and found their way to her sensitive bundle of nerves.

“What do you need, honey? Do you want to come? Do you want to soak this big, fat cock, huh?” he asked as he began to move again slowly, his gaze locked at hers in the mirror. Fuck, she looked even more phenomenal than at the grand hall. Her neatly made beehive now a bit more messy, her red lips were a bit smudged, her eyes hazy…Truly a sight to behold. When she didn't answer, he delivered a harsh slap onto her clit. “I asked you a question. Do you want to soak my dick, baby?” he asked and buried himself to the hilt once more, his own climax nearing the edge, too.

“Fu–Yes! Please, let me come on your cock, please, make me squirt all over you… please…” she urged, looking at his reflection.

Her words made her already aching shaft twitch deep inside of her, and with a throaty rumble he set a ruthless pace. His cock was laced with her wetness, the sight making Ben go ferocious. “I’m gonna come into this tight little pussy. I’m gonna pump my load into you. Fuck, come with me, baby, soak my dick.”

Their breath hitched almost at the same time. His fingers were still working their wonders around her clit. Her pussy almost pushed him out when she came, her cum gushing over his shaft. While he made sure to ride her orgasm out, she felt him spilling his seed deep into her hole, dribbling out from her down to his balls. His slowled his pace, but the strength didn’t cease, making sure he fucked his white hot cum back inside of her. 

Once they both came down their highs, they found their eyes going back at their reflection. His satisfied grin, her spent expression, their mingled, joint bodies… Besides being absolutely filthy, there was something more behind that scenery…

After catching their breaths, Ben slipped out of her, quickly pulling her panties back to their place to hold up his cum. He saw her panties being soaked with his climax, which elicited a moan from him. “Now that’s a sight, darling.”

She just laughed breathlessly and rolled her skirt back down, putting her tit back into the confinement of that dress. “That was… just what I needed. Thank you.”

(Y/N) glanced at her reflection in the mirror, cheeks flushed, her breath still unsteady from the intensity of what had just happened. She watched as Soldier Boy straightened up and casually began putting his suit back on. There was something about his calmness, his complete lack of urgency, that made her heart race all over again. He caught her eye in the mirror and flashed that mischievous smirk she was starting to find dangerously attractive.

“M’just happy to help the artist out,” Ben shrugged, the smirk never leaving his face. His voice was playful, but his gaze was laced with something deeper, something that made her pulse quicken. As he fastened the last strap of his vest, he turned to her, an eyebrow raised in challenge. “Don’t you… wanna get out of here? For real?”

(Y/N) bit her lip, torn between the temptation of escape and the nagging responsibility of the exhibition. The thought of ditching this pretentious gathering for something—anything, really—more genuine was almost irresistible. But despite her wild child tendencies, she was still aware of her responsibilities. “Ben, I still have this exhibition,” she said, her voice softening. “I can’t just leave. Greg would have a heart attack if I walked out right now.”

Ben chuckled, stepping closer until he was just inches away. “And you care about that?” he asked, his tone low and teasing, but with a seriousness beneath it. “You really wanna stick around, playing nice with assholes who wouldn’t know real art if it smacked them in the face?”

She hesitated, knowing he was right. Everything about this night felt wrong, but she still felt trapped by the expectations that came with it. “It’s not that simple,” she murmured, almost to herself. “This is my career.”

He reached out, gently tipping her chin up so she had to look at him. “You’re not one of them, you know that,” he said, his voice firm but not unkind. “You don’t belong here, with these people who only care about what you can do for them. You deserve more than that. Plus, you’ve already got that deal with Vought. Why would you care about any other guests?”

His words hit her harder than she expected. He wasn’t just trying to lure her away for some fun; he was calling out what she had been trying to ignore all night. She sighed, feeling the weight of the evening press down on her again. “But where would we even go?” she asked, though the resistance in her voice was fading.

“Anywhere you want,” Ben replied, his eyes lighting up with the possibility. “Somewhere where you can breathe, where you don’t have to pretend.” He leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a whisper. “You said you wanted fun tonight. Let’s go find it.”

She looked at him, really considering his offer this time. The idea of leaving it all behind, even just for a night, was more tempting than ever. She knew it was reckless, maybe even career suicide, but there was a part of her that didn’t care anymore. Not tonight. Tonight, she wanted to feel alive.

Slowly, she nodded. “Alright,” she said, her voice stronger now. “Let’s get out of here.”

Ben’s smirk widened, satisfied. “Atta girl,” he murmured, taking her hand in his. He pulled her toward the door, and as they slipped out of the restroom, a thrill shot through her. She was leaving behind everything that had been weighing her down all night, walking away from the people and the pretence, and into something unknown but undeniably exciting.

As they made their way through the back halls of the museum, she felt a strange sense of freedom. The further they got from the exhibition, the lighter she felt, like she was shedding a skin she’d outgrown long ago. She didn’t know where Ben was taking her, but for the first time in a long time, she didn’t care. She was done pretending.

And as for Soldier Boy... maybe coming to this exhibition wasn't such a bad idea after all.

═════════ 𖤐🤍𖤐 ═════════

Thanks for reading. <3

[writingescapades]

Book Worm, Avid Learner Reader

A\N: You're a bookworm and avid learner. How does your fishy deal with that?

Sorry for any typos, grammar or syntax mistakes. I had a long day and am super tired.

Rafayel enjoys reading, but he does not have a regular habit. Imagine his surprise when he found out just how much you enjoy reading.

His exasperated look when, upon opening your kitchen cabinets, he’s faced with stacks of books, one on top of another, ready to come falling down with one wrong move. Of course, you know how to get books in and out without an avalanche occurring. He laughs when he sees the one cabinet you did dedicate to actual food.

Likes to accompany you when you acquire new books. Whether it’s from the library or a store, Rafayel likes to see what new interests have captured your attention. Sometimes he’ll comment or provide a recommendation, but really, he’s excited to see what new thoughts emerge from your reads

Does not buy you books just because you enjoy them. Reading is another form of art. There are books you enjoy and books you won’t, and he doesn’t want to provide you with books you’d dislike. He also doesn’t want to burn you with the chore of reading something just because someone gave it to you. So he tends to leave you to your literary world. But he’s watching. If he notices your preference for a specific author or topic, you might just find a little surprise awaiting you on after a long day.

LOVES having you read to him while he paints. He enjoys hearing your voice as white noise, and pays attention to what you’re reading. If you stop reading to reflect on a passage or ask him his thoughts, he’s quick to respond. A lot of laughter occurs in these moments, but so do a lot of deep conversations that leave both your souls satisfied. Sometimes what you’re reading to him or your conversations end up appearing somewhere in his paintings.

Sometimes, when he’s experiencing an artistic block. He closes his eyes and asks you to read to him. Using your voice and his mind as a guide, he lets his inhibitions go and just paints.

Has done a photography series called “Dating a Reader” where it’s just candid shots of you reading a book on different days. The passage of time as the books gets read. The notes and tabs you keep. The light in your eyes as you jabber on about something in the book, and the final picture, his most favourite. When you finish your book, your head turned towards him, finally giving him attention, all the while, an arm outstretched towards the next book.

Rafayel is impressed by intelligence. So when he sees that you are a walking encyclopedia, he’s hooked. He loved pointing to any random object and just asking you what you know about it. He especially loves it when your reading provides you information on art. It makes it easier for him to communicate what he verbally cannot express. You’re not shallow with your observations and questions like the people who attend his art shows. There is a genuine curiosity that he cannot help but feed. It makes him feel truly seen by you, truly remembered. Also just loves it when you go off on tangents or provide well thought out answers to questions from people who are clearly trying to put you down. Has a very “that’s my spouse” moment, even though you’re not married. Not yet.

Reading makes one develop a love for learning, and you’re no exception. Rafayel doesn’t attempt to match your learning drive, but he does challenge you. Always prompting you to think of things in a different light or plays the devil’s advocate to present an alternative view. You know it’s his way of showing he cares about your passions. His way of showing that they are not just things about you or something he has to put up with, but rather something he wants you to continually develop alongside your relationship.

Despite this, he still becomes reserved and hesitant when it comes to Lemurians. He knows your curious. Dying, even to see his Lemurian form and experience the ocean from his eyes. But he can’t open that world to you just yet. In thanks for your patience, he indirectly feeds your knowledge by showing you what humans have misunderstood about Lemurians. Hoping, that your intelligence and curiosity will drive you to figuring things out on your own; and half scared of what you might do once you place the final piece.

While he might grumble and whine about you giving your books more attention then him, Rafayel would NEVER make you choose between him and your books. He knows it’s a package deal, much like how his erratic lifestyle and shadowy sides where sides of him you openly accepted. Though you live apart, he still has a library ready to be filled by you. He kind of hopes it might tempt you to move in because how can you say no to your own library?