#i love having a period so much who wouldn't want two weeks in which you feel at the top of the world

[magpieddd]

Generally as a rule of thumb i think I'm lame and boring an unoriginal but from time to time the clouds dissipate from my mind and i come to the realization that I'm actually extremely cool and interesting and special. Wish I remembered that and didn't have to rediscover those feelings every two weeks

[bosbas]

Chapter 13: it's never too late to come back to my side

series masterlist previous part || next part

pairing: benedict bridgerton x best friend!fem!reader WC: 3.2k words

Warnings: period-typical gender roles, idiots in love being idiots in love, mutual pining, some swearing

Summary: You and Benedict have been best friends since childhood, but things change dramatically once you come out in society. You’re struggling to find someone you’re as compatible with and who knows you as well as Benedict, all while trying to quell your ever-growing feelings for him. Shenanigans ensue.

A/N: ahhhh we're getting close to the end i'm so emotional i love them so dearly

August 15, 1814 - It has come to this author's attention that Mr Benedict Bridgerton will be in attendance at Aubrey Hall this year in time for his family's country house party. This comes after almost two months away in the countryside. Will Mr Bridgerton be shocked to find out that his best friend and his older brother have been courting while he was away? Or has he been kept up to date on the ton's happenings, perhaps by this very column? The lucky guests at Aubrey Hall will find out for themselves in a few days, and the remaining members of the ton in London will surely find out through Lady Whistledown's society papers in the coming week.

"Benedict it's been three days. You have to come downstairs at some point," groaned Hyacinth. She was tired of watching her older brother mope around aimlessly, refusing to participate in any Bridgerton-Beaumont activities.

Knowing bits and pieces of what had happened between you and Benedict, Hyacinth was inclined to leave him to rot in his room forever, completely unsympathetic to his low mood. However, she couldn't help but notice your eyes searching every room you entered, looking for your best friend, only to visibly slump your shoulders when you realized that Benedict had once again failed to show up. So, after three days of watching your disappointment grow exponentially, Hyacinth had taken matters into her own hands. Except for the fact that Benedict was not particularly enthusiastic about Hyacinth's efforts, lying on his bed with a half-open book on his abdomen as he rolled his eyes at his sister.

"Go away. I'm not going to play Pall Mall, just leave me alone," he responded, laying an arm over his eyes.

Hyacinth scoffed in response. "I'm not here to ask if you want to play Pall Mall, brother. If I were, you wouldn't have a choice. Not that you have much choice now, anyway."

Then, grabbing his shoulder and shaking him as hard as her eleven-year-old strength allowed, she tried to make him see sense. "Y/N is even more miserable than you are because you won't even come down for dinner. I don't care that you're the one who upset her in the first place, she wants to see you!"

Seeing Benedict move his arm away from his eyes and give her a questioning look, Hyacinth sighed, exasperated. "Yes, I know about that. Which is how I know you're making it worse by staying cooped up in your room while she's downstairs with no one to talk to."

"She can just talk to Anthony," shot back Benedict, knowing it was a weak argument even before the words came out of his mouth.

Hyacinth did all she could to hold back from screaming at her brother, who was being exceedingly petulant. "You are such an idiot that it's hard to imagine how you lead a semi-normal life," she settled for saying, knowing she would get a lecture if she used any stronger language.

Benedict rolled his eyes, but his gaze shot over to his bedroom door when he heard hushed voices just outside whispering fiercely.

"Yes?" he snapped, loud enough that the voices ceased talking. The door creaked open and a very sheepish-looking Theo and Bastian popped their heads in, stumbling into the room unceremoniously.

After slapping Bastian on the shoulder, only a tad aggressively, Theo cleared his throat. "Ah, excuse our entrance."

"We're here to talk to you about Y/N, obviously, but it seems Hyacinth has beat us to it," finished Bastian, scratching the back of his head.

Benedict grumbled some expletives that were most definitely not appropriate for Hyacinth's ears at the prospect of two of your brothers, and the most athletic ones at that, giving him grief for the way things had played out between the two of you. He was already nursing a piercing heartache and the insurmountable guilt of having ruined his chances at being with you by an ill-timed attempt at a kiss, and he most certainly did not need half of your siblings making him feel worse about it. Having Hyacinth in your corner, and therefore against him, was difficult enough.

"Well, go on then," Ben relented, wanting to get this over with as quickly as possible so he could go back to wallowing in his sorrows. Perhaps his intense heartbreak would lead to some magnificent inspiration for his next piece, and he could find comfort in the fact that his art would be massively successful, even if he couldn't have you. A poor consolation prize, but a consolation prize nonetheless.

Bastian looked at Hyacinth pensively, assessing how crude he was going to be with such a young girl present to hear what he was saying. He knew she had probably heard it all before, given that she grew up with four older brothers nearby, but Bastian was hesitant to be the direct cause of any colorful language the youngest Bridgerton might employ. Deciding the benefits of being as direct as possible outweighed the possible lecture he would receive, Bastian spoke quickly, "We just think you're being a fucking idiot."

"Sebastian!" exclaimed Theo, hitting him on the shoulder again and ignoring that Hyacinth was currently dissolving into a fit of giggles. "What he means to say is that we think you're being rather foolish. Though the strength of Bastian's words do communicate how we feel about this, foul as they were."

"Why, thank you. I was sick with worry wondering what your opinion on my relationship with my best friend was," retorted Benedict, not able to help his sarcastic tone even though he knew your brothers were not the best people to provoke right at this minute.

"Don't forget your best friend is our younger sister, so I do imagine we're allowed an opinion," replied Bastian, wanting to keep Benedict in place.

Theo, the more level-headed of the twins, looked at Ben with what could have been construed as a look of sympathy if it weren't also laced with unimaginable anger. "We're quite serious, Benedict. We know what happened a few days ago in your studio. Why can't you just talk to her?"

Benedict sat up and put his head in his hands, rather sick of having everyone know his business. "How on earth does everyone know what happened?"

Theo and Bastian exchanged a glance, unsure whether they should reveal their source. But Hyacinth saved them from an explanation. Quite matter-of-factly, she explained, "Eloise overheard your argument pretty much in its entirety. And, of course, she told everyone. Though I'm sure the twins have heard some bits and pieces from Y/N herself, and perhaps Anthony, too."

Seeing Benedict look from Hyacinth to Bastian to Theo in disbelief, loathing that it was nearly impossible to keep a secret from his family, Bastian commented, "Perhaps if Francesca had been the one to overhear we wouldn't have known so much. But all the better for us that Eloise, quite inexplicably, knows absolutely everything about everyone."

Shaking his head, Benedict accepted the current predicament he was in. "Right, then. I'll have to remember to thank Eloise for allowing me to have this wonderful conversation the next time I see her. Regardless, this makes it easier to tell you that I can't 'just talk to her,' Theo. I can't act like nothing happened."

Bastian immediately rolled his eyes upon hearing Benedict's excuse. "It's truly a wonder your friendship with her has lasted so long. Of course she wants to hear from you! She always wants to hear from you. Even when she's upset with you."

"It's all she ever talks about, usually. How long until she can see you and talk to you about whatever trivial matter she wishes to spend hours talking about," added Theo, hoping to remind Benedict that you needed him. Twenty years of being best friends meant that you needed Ben even when the two of you were fighting. Especially when you were fighting, actually, since Benedict was the only person who knew how to properly console you when you were upset.

"They're not trivial matters," said Benedict defensively. He loved hearing you talk on and on about whatever plot hole was plaguing you, and he found it rather interesting, too, but now was not the time to get into that particular point. "Anyway, that doesn't resolve the issue. It doesn't matter if I talk to her or not, she still doesn't love me back. And I have been doing a splendid job so far of trying to get over her before she marries my brother, so if you could very kindly allow me to continue to do so, I would greatly appreciate it," he finished curtly.

Hyacinth scoffed, in disbelief at her brother's blindness. "She doesn't 'not love you back,' you big baby! I'm eleven years old, I shouldn't be the one telling you to grow up!"

"Hyacinth, stop it. That's unusually cruel, even for you," protested Benedict, feeling an almost physical pain at the impossible possibility that you might love him back after what happened in his studio. He had considered the possibility incessantly in his mind the past few days, of course. But to hear someone else say it, to hear the words spoken so clearly by someone else rather than hearing it in his internal monologue or seeing it written down in his sloppy handwriting in letters he had never sent, was enough to make him feel nauseous.

Up until fairly recently, his love for you had been quite manageable. Even unnoticeable, at least to him, for the first few years. However, now he was quite pointedly aware that every time his heartbeat faltered it was undoubtedly due to you, whether you had laughed in a particularly adorable way or worn a gown that made your figure look quite irresistible. And he had lost any chance he had with you because he was too overcome by his desire to be by your side in a more-than-friendly way and had had awful timing in attempting to kiss you. So, yes, Hyacinth was being quite cruel in his eyes. Even if the cruelty was warranted, seeing how you looked as distraught as he felt.

"I do believe Hyacinth is right," Theo spoke, causing the youngest Bridgerton to beam, radiant, beside him, contrasting Ben's positively ghastly expression. "Y/N has loved you for years. It's been painfully obvious to the rest of us, but apparently, you're too thick to notice."

Bastian piped in to agree with his brother. "Precisely. So we're spelling it out for you. She does love you back, you just decided to confess your love for her at an inopportune moment. If Eloise's memory serves her correctly," which earned him a snicker from Hyacinth, "Y/N never said she didn't love you back."

Theo nodded, "She just said nothing had been resolved. Which it hadn't. So resolve it."

As if trying to romance the woman Ben had been helplessly and irrevocably in love with for the better part of a decade was as easy as taking a stroll, Bastian shrugged and added, "It's simple, really."

Benedict swallowed thickly, hearing a loud ringing in his ears. He found he couldn't focus his eyesight on anything, vision growing blurry as his eyes aimlessly scanned the room. He had taken your abrupt exit from his studio as a complete rejection, a sign that he had ruined any chance of moving beyond the boundaries of the friendship you two had built so lovingly. But apparently, the rejection had not been because you did not love him back, but rather because Benedict had behaved quite like an ass.

The absolute bliss he should have felt was overshadowed by a tightness in his chest that he could easily attribute to fear. There was so much more to lose now. He was scared out of his wits that he'd mess up again and lose you in any way that mattered, friendship and all.

"But what if it's too far gone? What if I don't fix it?" asked Ben, voicing his fears shakily.

Bastian laughed dryly and Benedict felt it more than he would a physical blow. "That's not really an option, is it? That's our sister you're talking about."

Theo growled lowly, not opposed to resorting to violence when the matter concerned the possible heartbreak of his younger sister. "Fix it or we fix you."

And the two walked out, Hyacinth skipping happily in front of them, without acknowledging the garbled groan that came from Ben's throat. He would have to make it count, then. One last chance to make you his. To make a reality the only way he could truly be happy. But it wasn't an impossible task. He knew you better than you knew yourself, after all.

---

You were making your way upstairs to your bedroom after another torturous dinner without Ben when Anthony touched your arm and asked if he could walk you back. It took less than five seconds for you to burst into tears and nod sorrowfully as he led you out of the sitting room where the rest of your families had migrated and were now settling into cozy conversation. Thankfully, no one else noticed, or at least didn't think to call you out on your sudden burst of emotion.

"It's going to be alright, one way or another," Anthony whispered as he led you down the hallway. And though he felt it was appropriate given the circumstance, he refrained from calling you darling or really any other pet name, knowing Benedict was usually the only one to refer to you as such, and thus it might cause you more undue stress.

"I know," you responded tearfully. "I just miss him."

You hiccuped and leaned your head onto Anthony's shoulder. As much as you enjoyed Anthony's company, you secretly wished that it was Benedict's strong shoulder you were feeling. But it didn't do to dwell on such matters now.

"Well, he did tell you he loved you," offered Anthony as the two of you climbed the stairs. "I think you're crazy to not immediately go after him." Perhaps he had been too worried about the fact that Benedict was an idiot to realize that you, too, were an idiot when it came to matters pertaining to your best friend and your very obvious love for him.

You shook your head decidedly. "He did tell me that, yes, but look at what's happened now," you said, flailing your arms in frustration. "He's ignored me for three days. You can't just say you're in love with someone and then not speak with them for three days!"

Anthony laughed softly when you sniffed sulkily, but you kept speaking. "It's too easy for Ben to swoop in after I've done so much work to get over him and found someone I want to marry," you gave the man beside you a pointed stare. "I don't just want to be with him when it's convenient for him. I need Benedict to actually want me and to prove that he wants me. Which he is doing a very poor job of at the minute because I haven't seen him since he confessed he was in love with me," you finished with a huff.

But Anthony was saved from having to respond, as Alex was waiting for you by your bedroom door, hands behind his back.

"Ah, Y/N. Just the person I wanted to see. Do you fancy a chat?"

Seeing that you didn't have much of a choice, you nodded and thanked Anthony, sending him on his way as you turned to face your older brother. "Very well," you relented.

The two of you went inside your bedroom and Alex, ever the unwavering presence in your life, closed the door firmly and crossed his arms as he stared at you. You were a tad nervous, not quite sure of what he was going to say. Ever since you had started courting Anthony, he had steered clear of the two of you, not exactly disapproving of the courtship, but not particularly supportive of it either. Needless to say, you were fairly surprised that he was being so direct with you now, asking to talk to you and staring you down in your room.

"Y/N," he started. "I mean this will all the love that I have in my heart for you, which is quite a lot, but you are being so, so stupid. It's almost painful to watch."

You were completely taken aback. "Excuse me?" you sputtered, not quite believing that your brother would speak to you like this. Although it was nice to hear him speak to you in any way at all, since you knew he had probably been holding back from saying this every time you spoke with him for the duration of your courtship with Anthony.

With a determined look on his face, a slightly furrowed brow, and downturned lips, Alexander pressed on. "You are so obviously in love with Benedict," and before you could protest, he continued speaking. "And he is so obviously in love with you, that I just don't understand the problem. He told you he was in love with you, from what Eloise has said, so I don't particularly see an issue now."

A flicker of confusion passed over your face. "He– What? What are you getting at?" you asked, knowing there was something else that Alex wanted to say.

It was imperative to him that you grasped what he was saying instead of focusing on how he said it. So he sighed a tad impatiently but spoke steadily enough that you wouldn't be put off by his tone of voice. "At the beginning of the season, I wasn't absolutely bricking it over my little sister debuting in society because I didn't think I would have to worry about you actually courting anyone. I just assumed that you and Ben would end up married, much like the rest of our families. In fact, I assumed you would be married already. It's mid-August now, and I thought you would have at the very latest married in June. Again, I mean this with a lot of love, but you're being a massive idiot. Every single person in our family can see that you're in love. So go be with the man you love!"

You were stunned. Alex had never made any indication that he thought that you and Ben would marry. But then again, perhaps you and Benedict loving each other came so naturally that he didn't need to.

Nevertheless, you shook your head adamantly. "I don't care what you thought, or what the rest of the family thought, or even what I thought! Benedict left me when I needed him, and Anthony was there for me–"

"So, you're marrying Anthony, then? You've decided you still want to be with him after all this?" asked Alex, on the brink of losing his seemingly endless temper.

"I don't know! Maybe? I haven't entirely decided, yet," you argued. "But it's either that or no marriage since Benedict hasn't exactly provided an alternative solution, and I would rather die than marry a man of the ton."

"But do you love Anthony?" asked your brother, voice clear as it cut through your rambling.

"Does it matter?"

"To you, it does," he responded firmly, but not unkindly.

And he was right. To you, it did matter. Perhaps not to Anthony, and perhaps not to Alexander, either. But to you, it did. Or it had, at least. And shouldn't it still matter? Even if you hadn't had the most linear season, and you hadn't found exactly what you were looking for. Shouldn't you still hope for love? And shouldn't you still fight for it, despite your best friend's terrible timing?

—

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[simpingforthemm]

Hello angel face 🌷

I fell so head over heels in love with your writing ^-^

I was wondering if I could request a headcanon on dating Isaac from My life with the walter boys?

Sending you lots of love ♡

~ 🧸

dating isaac garcia headcanons

a/n: omg not you making me blush 🤭❤️ thank you so much ❤️❤️ and ofc! I really enjoyed writing this since Isaac is so asfjlskjk 😍 I hope you enjoy!

words: 1.4k

summary: what it would be like to date isaac garcia

• as we all know, Isaac is a total ladies man and he has girls all over town crushing on him

• but he's not searching for anything serious with any of them

• if he were to really get into a relationship, his girlfriend would have to stand out

• he wouldn't want to date someone who blindly falls for him without really knowing him

• he wants that slow-burn enemies to lovers typa shit 😌

• me personally I think Isaac would go for an outsider girl who's kinda mysterious

• also probably someone who has a good sense of style and an interest in fashion

• he wants a girl who doesn't just simply agree with everything he says or does, he wants her to call him out on his bullshit, scold him if he's being an asshole etc!

• bc even tho he loves all the attention he gets from girls and he loves when they swoon over him, that stuff can get boring real quick and he just wants someone to be real with him!

• when you first meet, you don't think much of Isaac

• you are of the opinion that he's arrogant af and extremely entitled

• he's the popular guy and you're just chilling with your small friend group, away from all the high school drama

• it's only when you're paired as lab partners in chemistry and have to sit next to each other that you're forced to talk more (forced proximity y'all 😌😌)

• you bicker for a few weeks, exchanging snarky comments

you: "you really have no idea what the periodic table is? fucking stupid ass himbo"

Isaac: "oh so you're saying I'm good looking? can't even insult me properly huh?"

you: "oh stfu"

• it's only until both of you burst out laughing at some stupid video the teacher showed you in class

• and both of you are looking at each other like ????

• "I didn't know you had a good sense of humor too?"

• then both of you find yourself more often than not laughing at the same things

• you start making jokes to each other in classes, still bickering with each other but the bickering turning more into play fighting??

• also now you don't despise having to work together as lab partners anymore

• sometimes you also purposely sit next to each other in different classes just because it's more fun together

• yet both of you would never admit that

• lots of people from school are surprised about your new acquaintance with Isaac bc what is this popular guy doing with this outsider girl?

• but Isaac doesn't care about what other people think bc you're actually really chill and fun to be around

• one day, Isaac decides he's sick of conversing with his admirers and finds that your bickering with him is far more interesting and also more intellectually stimulating (yes 😂) than just having a bunch of girls stare at him with heart eyes swooning over him and just nodding at everything he's saying

• so at lunch he goes over to your friend group's table (actually just you and your two friend's table 😌) and asks if he can sit with you

• your two friends are like : 🤨🤨🤨him?

• but you're like: nah nah guys he's cool

• so you guys are just chilling together for lunch and he realizes what he's been missing out on!!

• he actually gets along with you and your friends so well bc y'all are also fashion mfs like him and not football ppl like his other friends lmao (tho he mostly hangs out with his cousins)

• after lunch he asks you if you want to hang out after school sometime and chill just the two of you, which surprises you but ofc you say yes

• on your first hangout you go to get matcha 🍵 and talk about art (I could imagine that also being one of Isaac's interests) and fashion, also like your fav brands and stuff and how both of you want to model/design/study fashion etc. in your future

• you also deep talk about his dad a lil and how Isaac mostly grew up at the Walter's house bc his dad is in the army

• your hangouts get more frequent and soon you realize it's more than friendship for both of you and that you actually are like in love with each other

• both of you used to always chat during class and laugh together which you still do but now it's just with a little bit of tension and awkwardness bc you're now crushing on each other

"hahaha...yeah that was um... really funny😅haha"

• and somehow Isaac can't flirt with you like he does with other girls bc with the other girls it was never genuine, he didn't really care about them but with you it's like...

• he really likes you and he doesn't wanna f it up

• I think he would get a lil more touchy tho as he realizes he likes u

• for example: you're out at the cinema watching an indie movie together and he puts an arm around you

• you're like: you've never done that before 🤨🤨🤨

• but then you have to hide your blush bc omg!! 😳 he just put his arm around you

• I feel like Isaac is a scaredy cat so he tells you he loves you over text 😭

• he doesn't even tell you he likes you first, bro just goes all out with the L word

• you've just woken up, it's like 6am on a Sunday and you see a text from Isaac from like an hour ago 💀💀

• "I think I'm in love with you lmao"

• and you immediately call him bc wtf???

• you ask him: "is this one of your jokes?" bc ain't no way are you gonna confess too only to be told it's a prank

• "no, no... it's true"

• "and you decided to tell me this over text?? literally wtf Isaac"

• then you're silent for a while and just say "I can't believe I'm about to say this on the phone but...I feel the same"

• then you meet up that same day and the second you meet you're literally laughing saying: "literally wtf Isaac"

• "sorry I, uh.. didn't know how else to say it..", he says awkwardly, looking away bc he's blushingg

• "well, it's fine because.. I love you too"

• Isaac literally perks up even though you've already said you feel the same, it's different hearing you say it in front of him

• then you guys have your first kiss which is literally life changing for Isaac because so far he's only ever kissed girls like for fun and not because he's fallen for them

• so this is a very new experience for Isaac

• you show up as a couple at school the next day and walk the hallways holding hands 🫱🏻‍🫲🏼

• everybody is confused and asks Isaac: "really? her?"

• he answers: "yeah, why? she's cool af?? and I'm literally in love with her??!!"

• so let's talk about your relationship

• you both match fits often and are basically the most stylish couple at school

• you also go thrifting together!

• you guys have a very strong emotional bond and talk about anything and everything literally

• you're his rock and his best friend, he tells you everything

• and by that I mean literally everything

• he also tells you about every prank he plans / has done and he also tells you about the putting bleach in Jackie's shampoo bottle prank

• which you immediately scold him for bc why is he putting that poor girl through this when she's literally still adjusting to the new life in the Walter's house after having to leave her home because her parents died?

• at school you go to Jackie to apologize for Isaac's behavior and offer to help with her hair, which she gladly accepts

• this leads to you and Jackie becoming best friends and to her joining your little friend group with your 2 friends

• (you guys are a better influence on her than Skylar and Grace)

• you also get invited to Walter family events, for example Will's wedding or Thanksgiving

• you can be a bit shy so you always cling to Isaac and Jackie whenever you're there

• But Katherine makes you warm up quickly with her good-hearted nature and you find yourself feeling comfortable in the Walter's home pretty soon

• you get along with Lee pretty well and you just fit in perfectly with the whole bunch

• your parents also love him bc he's literally your prince charming 💕

[itsdingdong]

Come Home To Me -Drabble

Pairing: Jungkook x girlfriend!reader

Genre: Fluff, Angst

Warnings: Suggestive, Profanity

Word Count:: 1990

A.N: I didn’t specify her occupation. She’s a career woman. Unedited, I might come back to it, wrote it on a whim.

Song: come home to me by Justin Bieber

"I'm home," your boyfriend announces his arrival. It's your last night together before he heads off to serve in the military. It's been a rough few weeks for both of you, especially for him. You know he's not ready to leave, especially at the peak of his career. Not only that, but his career consumed so much time that spending moments with loved ones became a rare luxury. He never had separation anxiety, yet here he is, struggling to leave everything behind for two years.

He left for the gym a little over an hour ago. Deep down, both of you knew he'd rather have stayed and done nothing and everything with you. Sadly, the uneasiness became overwhelming, visibly making him look shaky and pale. You suggested he go out and blow off some steam, and he left to try that.

"I'm gonna take a shower. I'm so sweaty."

"Yeah, okay."

And there's tension. You know it's not personal, but it makes you nervous anyway. You're undeniably going to miss him a lot. No, you don't show it to him because he's already in a vulnerable state. He's been trying to make the best of his solo era before he's rid of one of the craziest highs one gets – fame. You know he's not ready to leave all that behind. How you see it is that it's a learning curve and a point in his life for him to grow and mature. That's what the military does to boys. They take a leap into becoming a man. That's one of the pros you can see. You're as obliged to wait as he is to go, so you stopped whining about it as soon as you found out about the enlistment. He needs your support more than ever, so that's what you're giving him, period. Maybe it was one of the things that gave girlfriends the wife material quality – who knows?

With both of your hectic schedules, it was hard enough to spend much quality time together. When you did, it was the utmost best. Those times made the whole deal worth it. Two tired people in need of love and compassion met in an unusual place and easily fell in love as literal soulmates. Soulmates with little to no time to spend. You just wanted to support him as much as you could. It wasn't like you were never going to see him during the service time, but you'd very much rather have him come home to you, even if it's just to spend the night in bed, sleeping.

Your chest has been squeezed tight since a couple of days back. You watched the V-Live he'd done while you were away, and you weren't happy about it. People wouldn't leave him alone with their uncalled-for negativity when he was extremely generous with his limited time to make people who supported him happy. From stans accusing him of abandoning Bam, his baby, to them following him around – which he got a scolding from you for showing his address.

He's a strong man, one of the toughest you've met. And he manages to stay kind, humble, and polite. Now, shit like this doesn't faze him usually, but nowadays, you're in awe to see how clueless and selfish people could be. They may not see it, but he gets hurt, and they are not the ones to pick up the pieces. And with that mindset, they wouldn't have been able to even if they tried. Despite everything, he did a final live to fulfill his promise. That alone shows how huge his heart is and how much he cares.

When done showering and changing into his sweats, Jungkook quietly joins you in the living room, a towel in his hand, drying up his shaved head. A small smile forms on your lips just by the sight of him. Damn, you're so in love with this man.

"Hey," he says as he drops himself down next to you on the couch.

"Hey," you say softly. His eyes look into yours for a moment, then they drop to the ground. He still looks sad, all puffy from crying too. "Come here. Please." He pats his chest, signaling you to hug him. Seriously, you don't need to be told twice. When you wrap your arms around his neck, he leans back, making you lie on top of him. You stay like that for a minute. Then 2. Then 10. Until you both fall asleep. It's a 20-minute nap before you feel him shuffle under you. You're so comfortable and peaceful in your current position to move or open your eyes; you just stay like that.

"I will miss you so much." The words come out as a shaky whisper. "I really don't want to go." His arms tighten around your figure. You don't want him to go either. It's on the list of things not to say to him.

"I know. I will miss you too, but I promise it'll pass in the blink of an eye."

He shakes his head before resting it on yours. All you want to do is cheer him up and give him all the hope you can for the following 18 months. To make him feel and know that everything will be okay. He's a mess, and you just want to rid him of all the upsetting emotions he's feeling right now. If only you could take his pain and stress away.

"We will all be waiting for you. I will visit you whenever I can. And I'll see you when you're home." If I'm here. You don't add that detail either. It's possible to miss him on his free days depending on your schedule, but he knows that already, and it's not worth mentioning at this very moment.

"I'll go see Bam as much as I can. I'll take photos of him. I know they will too. I'll make sure to visit your parents too." You finally raise yourself to look at his beautiful eyes. The well of tears brimming in them completely shatters your heart.

"I love you." He croaks, trying really hard to keep himself from breaking down. Though you wish he would if he needed to, but you wait and reply, "I love you more."

"That's impossible." He sighs into your neck, making you shiver slightly.

"Agree to love equally then?" You suggest playfully.

"Deal."

There's a brief comfortable silence after that. Your mind quiets down as you enjoy his warmth and strong arms around you. Eyes closed, you listen to his heartbeats as well as his breathing. Thankful to have him.

"Do you think I'll be forgotten when I'm gone? 2 years isn't a short time." He breaks the silence. His words slightly anger you because you know that it's impossible and you really hate it when he gets insecure like that when he has absolutely no reason to. But you know, no matter what, his worries are valid, always.

"Of course not. Who could forget such a gorgeous, talented, wonderful, funny, and caring man like you? I couldn't. Even if you weren't mine, you'd have definitely left an impact. And obviously you did because, like, ARMY, you know? Besides, you're really hot, if I do say so myself. Who could forget this face?" He smiles at your encouraging words as they warm his heart.

"I don't think I'm hot right now."

“Oh baby, how wrong you are. You look so hot even if you don’t feel like it.”

“I think I’m going to cry.”

“Sure, I’ll cry with you.”

“What? No, don’t cry. I’ll cry even more.”

“It’s okay to cry. I know you’re struggling, I’m here for you baby. I would prefer if you weren’t in such distress but if you are, let’s go through it. Together.”

Your words move him. He knows he’s loved. By millions and by the people he cares for the most. You? You’re different. You love him so honestly and care for him thoroughly, he can’t help but to feel extra grateful for your existence. He’s usually a grateful person but you make him thank whoever out there that’s hearing him a little more often. He knows you’re the one he’ll spend what’s left of his lifetime with. He’d marry you in a beat if it weren’t for your no marriage till babies rule. Which he’s okay with. But still, you just have to say the word and he’ll take you to the courthouse. You come second to his mother in terms of peace and comfort he can find in one but he’s okay with you switching spots when the time comes. You’re the safest thing that’s ever happened to him in such a dangerous world.

“You will wait for me, right? 2 years is a long time. What if you met someone?” You appreciate his honesty. Him being vocal about his fears. You appreciate that he doesn’t hide from you. All you wish is for those fears to vanish. There’s no way you’re leaving him. Ever.

“I will wait for you as long as you want me to.”

“I will always want you to.”

“Good. We have a deal then.”

-

“It’s almost 11, shall we go to bed? It’s going to be a long day tomorrow.” You suggest. He - technically you too - will have to wake up early. His parents were coming from Busan early in the morning to send him off.

“I’m not sleepy. Fuck, how am I going to fix my sleep routine, it’s seriously messed up.”

“I can’t think of a better place than the military for it.”

He pauses then laughs as it finally dawns on him. “How come I didn’t think of that?”

“You’re so out of it Jay Kay.”

“Mm, yeah. But I’ll be fine. We’ll be fine.”

“Yup. Definitely. Also, we don’t have to sleep just yet.”

“Oh yeah?”

“I thought we’d cuddle a little.”

It’s probably what you’re going to miss the most in his absence at home: his cuddles,

“And a one last ‘see ya’ fuck before I leave?” Wiggling his eyebrows, he looks at you with a glint of mischief and lust in his doe eyes.

Maybe that too. God, he seriously has no shame… he was crying just now this little shit.

To that, you can’t help but to tease, “When you put it like that, I guess I’ll pass.”

“Babyy, please. You got me all excited and stuff.”

He’s cute. A cute guy that makes you smile. Always. Even now you are smiling.

His pouty lips look so plump and kissable. You’re so used to seeing the ring there, that it feels weird now that it’s gone. “It’s a good luck, ‘I love you’ and a please be well fuck.”

“Mm yes, talk dirty to me.”

But you don’t do that tonight when your bodies are wrapped under the sheets. Instead, you just affirm and make love to him like you want to make sure he feels all the love you want to give. Maybe for the first time in weeks, he falls into a serene sleep, snuggled into your chest.

-

“It’s time to go.” You hear someone yell. Time does fly whenever you wish it doesn’t. But it still does fly when you wish it does. You just need to allow it. Your heart squeezes a little but you try to breathe through it. He’ll be okay.

“Take care of yourself. Don’t get cold. Call me whenever you can.”

“I will do all that. I promise. I love you.”

“I love you. I’ll wait for you to come home to me.”

“I’ll come running, baby. Trust me.” He brings you in for a hug and gives you the quickest kiss allowed before turning away to say his goodbyes to his family.

You can’t wait for him to return but as he’s away, you wish him the best and in your heart pray that everything will be okay.

[tsarinatorment]

Do you have any backstory headcanons for the other canon Apollo kids?

Not to the extent I did for Michael, but most of them I have at least something, yes!

Going in age order...

Will [disclaimer here that I do not consider TSATS canon; most of this contradicts the weird stuff TSATS tried to claim which didn't actually make any sense...] We know Apollo met Will's mother, Naomi Solace, in Austin, and I do headcanon that Will grew up there. Like most demigods, school wasn't fun for him, although Will was never actually in enough trouble that he got expelled - he was too much of a generally sweet kid for that, who got on well with the other kids in school. His home life was... fine. Naomi loves Will a lot, but trying to make ends meet with her music career whilst raising a son as a single mother was a lot (especially a son with ADHD and dyslexia) and Will often ended up not quite being given all the attention he needed at home.

However, we also know from canon that Will is an unusually powerful son of Apollo, so the monsters picked up on his scent much earlier than they usually do. His first attack was an entire hoard of snakes when he was seven, and with no-one else around close enough to intervene in time, Apollo snatched him away from the attack in person, before telling Naomi that it was probably time for Will to go to camp. She didn't protest, guiltily relieved that looking after Will wouldn't be on her shoulders anymore and that she could fully follow her music career again, and Will ended up at camp aged seven.

He remains a year-rounder because Naomi's career keeps her too busy to give him the attention and stability he should have, although they remain in frequent contact and Will has been known to leave camp for a weekend or even a week, occasionally, to stay with her while she's free between career commitments.

Austin Austin's mother, Latricia Lake, is a music theory lecturer (canon) who met Apollo while she was lecturing at Oberlin College (canon). I have her as being a guest lecturer, who moves around various colleges and universities on demand, which leaves her lifestyle rather an unstable one for raising a child. So instead of lugging around baby!Austin everywhere with her, Austin was mostly raised by his maternal grandparents (location not entirely certain but I'm kinda leaning towards Louisiana, maybe?) to give him a stable place to call home. He ended up at camp the same way most Apollo kids do - the snakes came crawling along and a satyr identified him as a demigod and brought him to camp. Austin got rather a nasty bite (or few) from the snakes on the way, which almost killed him, so his phobia of snakes is worse than most Apollo kids'. He arrived at camp in the period between BOTL and TLO, so he never knew Lee and was still a fresh camper for the Manhattan battle. He now stays at camp year-round because his grandparents are getting a little too old to really raise a hyperactive teenage boy, and Austin doesn't want to bring the added danger of monster attacks to them.

Kayla Kayla, as we know, has two fathers. She's one of the less common children of a male god who was birthed by their godly parent, but Apollo and Darren Knowles had several long conversations about it before she was conceived, because Apollo doesn't do the "drop random unexpected kids on partners" thing. Darren did really want a kid, though, and Apollo was more than happy to oblige. She calls Darren 'Da', while Apollo is 'Dad', and always knew that she had two fathers, and that her other father was an amazing archer. Darren kept her with him most of the time - Kayla's been around archery her entire life, has been shooting bows ever since she was big enough, and is well-known amongst the Olympic candidates in Canada, who are all eagerly awaiting her sixteenth birthday, when she can join their ranks - although they're a bit worried that now she's away at 'boarding school' in America, she's not getting as much training time (if only they knew!) She stays at camp all year because Darren's coaching career does take him across the country, and in some cases the world, to various tournaments, and it's safer and more stable for Kayla to live in one place. (Darren also tries not to let it reach her too much, but not everyone is particularly accepting of a girl with two fathers; she's also away from the bigotry in camp.) She will visit him as often as she can get away with, though!

Yan Yan is canonically from Hong Kong. As they're never given a gender in the books, to me they are nonbinary. They also don't have a canon surname, so I use 'Cheung', which has the same roots as Zhang and means archer! When they were twelve, their mother made the decision to evacuate them from Hong Kong due to the political unrest, and they went to live with a host family in England, enrolling in a local school. This was fine for a year, but then they found themselves being attacked by monsters and were forced to be displaced again, this time to Camp Half-Blood. Their host family knew nothing about them being a demigod - most of it was arranged by proxy of the mother of a kid the year below them in their London school. They later discovered that said kid was also their younger half-brother!

Jerry Jerry is a London kid (canon!). As 'Jerry' is usually a nickname, and considering the fact that he's British, I have his full name as being Jeremy (not that he ever goes by it) and gave him the surname Allen (meaning 'harmony'). Jerry's mum is a massive stress baker by the name of Gwen Allen. Her actual job is that she's a nurse - which is a stressful job, so Jerry was never short on homemade goodies as a kid! Jerry is a huge cricket fan, and grew up near Lords Cricket ground; his dream is to play for England one day. When he was twelve, he and an older kid at school were attacked by a monster and saved by the school's janitor, who was revealed to be a satyr. Jerry did not take well to the idea that he had to move to America for several years (not least because it meant he had to stop playing for the local kids' cricket teams, but also because it meant leaving his mum behind), but Gwen arranged everything with Chiron - and for Yan, too - and saw them off from Heathrow Airport. The pair of them were escorted by an adult demigod onto American soil, but unfortunately the last leg of their trip was rather eventful, culminating in the satyr guide that had picked them up at the airport being killed protecting them, and leaving both Jerry and Yan rather traumatised when they finally reached camp. The pair of them are thick as thieves.

Gracie I don't have much for Gracie yet - we know she's from Idaho, and at this point that's really all I've got, except the headcanon that she's a drum kid. Give her something to bash rhythmically and she's delighted! I'll work something out for her eventually, though! As for her name, like the rest of the TON trio we're not given one, so I gave her the surname 'Crowe' as an acknowledgement of corvids being sacred to Apollo.

[seramilla]

Someone asked for angst so here it is.

After learning who Emily is Carmilla is torn on the one hand she found she had another daughter and already loves her and wants to keep her but she knows she can't. 1 Emily wasn't born in hell and doesn't have the instincts she needs to stay safe as can be seen by how easy Clara and Odette caught her thank God it was them and not someone worse. 2 Sera needs here Carmilla knew Sera loved and feared for Emily and learned that Emily had only recently learned that Sera was her mother because Sera had told her growing up they were sisters to keep her safe and hadn't even let Emily call Sera mom. She would have thought that Emily going to hell would have caused Sera a lot of stress after getting more of the story she knew Sera had to be frantic. As much as she wants to keep her other daughter she loves Sera too much to take Emily from her. She already has two daughters that should be enough. Still she convinces herself letting Emily stay and night or two wouldn't hurt after all she can keep Emily here and safe and let her recover after her adventures in hell it would probably be the only time she'll see her third daughter so she should make it count. She plans to let Emily rest and recover that night and the next day tell Lucifer to let Sera know she found Emily and the girl is alright and maybe get one last day before she says goodbye for the first and likely last time.

For roughly 48 hours, Carmilla Carmine almost remembers what it's like to have Sera in her life again. Emily's resemblance to her other parent is uncanny. The way she laughs. The way she immediately warms up to her sisters, Clara and Odette. The way she asks so many questions, wanting to know everything about life in Hell, despite having witnessed so many of the horrors of this place just trying to find her way here.

Carmilla knows she should tell Lucifer of Emily's presence. And she does immediately...there is no doubt in her mind that Sera will probably be frantically searching for the girl, if she isn't already, and Carmilla isn't that cruel. She tells Lucifer that Emily is safe in her care, but goes against her better nature to make a very selfish request. One that she knows she shouldn't make. But as Carmilla is rarely selfish, she can't help but wish for it just this once.

"Tell Sera Emily is safe," Carmilla pleads with Lucifer over the phone. "But please...wait a few days before you tell her where she is. Tell her she's with you...or that she's resting. Something that will assuage her fears, but not have her rushing down here just yet."

"Why?" Lucifer asks, completely flummoxed. "Carmilla, she's at her wit's end with worry. I can't just not tell her! That's her daughter."

"She's my daughter, too! Please!" Carmilla begs. Very emotionally, which signals to Lucifer that she is serious. Carmilla rarely shows this side of herself to anyone, let alone Lucifer.

"Please, Lucifer, I just...I just need time with her. I don't know if I'll ever get this chance again. You know neither of them can stay down here long. Hell will warp and distort them. Like it did to our bodies. And I don't want to risk them coming down here more than once."

Lucifer goes silent on the other end of the line. He knows better than anyone the toll that Hell pays on a fallen angel's body over an extended period of time. A day or two isn't anything to fuss over. But after a week, their angelic essence will be sucked dry. After two, their bodies will start to transform, leaving them unrecognizable as Heaven's angels.

After a month, they'll never be able to go back. Those types of changes are permanent. Carmilla judges that a few days should be safe, at the absolute maximum. That's all the time she's willing to allow herself to spend with Emily. Any longer than that would risk her and Sera's immortal souls being trapped down here forever like her.

"If that's what you want..." Lucifer says, the hesitation in his voice indicating he does not like this idea one bit. "I understand where you're coming from. I do. And I will allow it. But 2 days is all you get, Carmilla. You'd better make it count."

Carmilla thanks Lucifer, and hangs up the phone. She will make it count. She will shove so much love and affection into the next 48 hours, it will be impossible for Emily to ignore how much she means to her. Carmilla vows to cherish the next 2 days always, and at the same time, steel herself for the inevitable end to their time together.

She understands that before all is said and done, she and Sera will undoubtedly come face-to-face one last time, and she needs to be ready for that moment. Needs to be strong for Emily, but also for herself. Carmilla Carmine has become an expert at not showing weakness. This situation, however...this will truly test her. It might even be what finally breaks her. But she will risk it. For a few moments of stolen happiness, and for them to ultimately be safe.

[k00sblogger]

Summary: When your audition doesn't go as planned, you realize that you'd do absolutely anything to get the role you want.

Warnings: age gap, hoseok kinda sus, messy blowjob, mentions of other sexual acts, dirty talk, pwp

Pairing: instructor!hoseok x ballerina!reader

🔗: m.list

★━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━★

"God I feel so stiff." you grunt out, bent over as you stretch your tired hamstrings. The week before this one was complete hell, and since you'd spent so much time in the studio your muscles were in pain.

It was audition week now, the week everyone was so eager for. On audition night you'd either be going out for ice cream with your friends in celebration, or sulking in your bed in disappointment.

You'd been practicing for this role for what felt like your entire life. The role of odette, black swan.. white swan.. whatever you wanna call it.

Some people may say it's basic, or that swan lake is played out- but you absolutely loved it. You remember looking at the older ballerinas as a child and wishing it could be you. Now, it finally was. Well almost- you'd only feel complete if you obtained the role of the black swan. Which you were determined to do.

Two loud claps pull you out of your thoughts, and you immediately stand to your feet when you see that its your instructor. Your friends do the same- just purely out of respect.

Ms. Bahr may be old, but she was never one to let herself be walked all over. Especially not by dancers from her company.

"I'd like you all to meet our guest for the.. day." her voice awkwardly trails off as she gestures toward the door. In walks a man, who looks quite close to your age. He's dressed nicely, & walks in with his arms crossed as he scans over everyone.

Well damn, you knew if he was anything near as stuck up as he looked, you hated him already.

"Hello, i'm mr. jung." he says, setting his bag down but still keeping his eye trained on all of us. When we hear the door slam, everyone's head snaps the opposite way, and we see that Ms. Bahr has excused herself.

Very weird, she was never one to be outside of the room during a practice. During audition week especially.

"I advise that you focus on me, because after this week i'll be officially taking Ms. Bahr's spot as head instructor." gasps, heard all around the room. One of your friends liza stares at you in shock, and you return the look.

People chatter amongst themselves at the news, it was surprising to say the least. Why wouldn't she tell us herself? Why is she letting a random guy take her spot? You had many questions, all that probably would never be answered.

"Now! With that being said-" a sly smile is on his face as he picks up a a paper- studying the sheet for a moment before speaking again. "If your not trying out for the role of the black swan, please step back and continue warming up."

Only four students are left standing, including you. You give a side eye to your main competition here, Jessica bush. You roll your eye at the slight sight of her, you absolutely hated the girl.

It wasn't jealousy- period point blank. It was just her atitude, it was fucking horrible. You wanted the role for yourself of course, but it would feel damn good to beat her and finally put her in her place.

Mr. Jung takes a good look at all of you, locking eyes with you for a split second before moving his eyes on to the girl next to you. He gives a nod of approval before setting down the paper with your names on it.

"I'd like to see you all perform the variation you've been taught yeah?" you hadn't even put your points shoes on yet. You curse yourself for what you're about to have to do, terrible first impression.

"Uhm- i need to get my points shoes.. sir." you itch at your arm at the tension when he looks at you, a annoyed glare on his face.

"Hurry up, go on." he says, allowing you permission to scurry over to your duffel bag.

What a prick.

*:.。..。.。o○*:.。..。.。o○*:.。..。.。o○*:.。..。.。

"Alright, not too bad." he mutters, slightly clapping as you and the others breathe heavily. This variation always felt much harder when you had someone watching you do it.

"I suppose you're all free to go, come in prepared tomorrow for auditions." there's a collective nod before everyone goes about their own business, talking as they all leave one by one.

By the time you sit down to start taking off your toe pads, the room is already empty besides you and him. It was a little awkward, but you refused to move faster just because he was in here with you.

A pained hiss leaves your lips when you see the bruise forming on your big toe, sighing at the sight of the mark. You don't pay much mind to it, sliding your sock right over it and slipping your shoes on afterward.

"You need new toe pads." your hear a voice behind you, and its him, the new instructor. You give awkward smile as you look up, playfully scoffing at his words. "Yeah, guess i do."

Standing to your feet, you sling your bag over your shoulder- muttering a quiet bye to the man as you begin to walk away. Unfortunately, his hand on your arm prevents you to walk any further.

"I think you're right for the role." he suddenly says, and your eyes widen in surprise. How could he decide that so easily when he's only seen you perform a short variation once? For gods sake he just got here.

You weren't ungreatful though, in fact you were very glad he noticed your efforts.

"Really?" you ask, shock evident in your voice as it grows louder. He nods his head, walking away from you now and back over to his personal belongings. Your right on his toes, assuming that he wants you to follow him.

"How could you know when you've only seen me dance once?" you question him, genuinely confused about what he could be thinking. This was such an important role, he'd be stupid to cast it so easily.

"I have a good eye.." his voice trails off with a suspicious chuckle as his gaze returns to your face. Your features were etched with so much confusion, but he could see you were excited.

"I think you're a beautiful girl.. y/n right?" your smile slowly fades, sensing the weird tone in his voice. "Ehm.. yeah" the excitement empties from your body when he stalks towards you, eyes refusing to leave yours.

He circles you as if you were prey, arms crossed the same way they were when he walked into the room. "Your old enough to know.. sometimes in life we have to do things to get what we want."

What the fuck was he saying? Your face scrunched up in annoyance and confusion, you just hoped this wasn't him flirting with you.

You let out a sigh when his cold fingers trail down your bare arm, feeling his body heat as he stands close behind you. "I can get you that role." you feel his lips on the back of your neck and it makes you want to throw up and disgust.

He barely even knew you! And even if he did- it's out of the question and inappropriate. "I can get you that role." he repeats again, only this time he presses his obvious boner into your ass.

That's when you move, picking up your bag that you hadn't even noticed fell to the ground. "Are you fucking insane?!" you shout, and he looks at you as if you were the one who did something wrong.

"Your disgusting!" you scream again, voice echoing through the room. You could only hope everyone had left the building as you rush out of the room.

"You'll regret that." he yells after you.

Fuck off.

*:.。..。.。o○*:.。..。.。o○*:.。..。.。o○*:.。..。.。

AUDITION DAY

The week had went by in a flash, and tryouts had come much sooner than you thought they would.

After the situation with your new instructor, you avoided him like the plague- even switching directions when you'd see him walking around the building. You noticed him staring at times, but you did your best to ignore it.

You hadn't told anyone about what happened either, not even your closest friends. What you didn't want was for it to effect your audition process, not after you worked so hard for this very moment.

The voice of your friend lila causes you to zone back in, & you can't help the smile that falls over your face when you see her walking towards you with flowers.

"Lila.." you say, giving her a big hug before she can even hand the flowers over. "You didn't have to.. i didn't even get you anything.." you mutter, pulling out of the hug with a saddened look on your face.

You appreciated her at times like these, and sometimes even felt like a shitty friend when she'd go out of her way to do special things for you. If you ever lost her you think you'd literally spiral out of control.

"Good luck on your audition." she says, her face full of joy as she gives a comforting squeeze to your arm.

You don't get the chance to thank her because the door opens, and in comes Mr.Jung . Everyone stands when he arrives, the same way they would when Ms. Bahr would enter.

Now that you know the real him, it kind of sucks that everyone likes him so much. It also sucks that you have to keep what happened to yourself for now, but you planned to confess as soon as auditions were over.

"Alright everyone, we'll begin black & white swan auditions now- so if that's not you please push to the back of the room." Again, four students are left standing- only this time it's much more nerve racking.

You were used to the whole class watching auditions happen, but this was different. You'd been waiting for this for years... if you fucked up now you don't think you'd ever forgive yourself.

"Ready?" he asks, staring at all of you as you spread out and get into your starting position.

Ready as you'll ever be.

~~~~

Needless to say the audition went great. You don't remember messing up even once, and even a couple other students came up to your afterwards just to tell you how good your audition looked.

You watched the rest of the auditions in excitement and confidence, happy that you'd done so good. Usually, you'd let jessica's little glares towards you ruin your mood- but not today.

An entire hour passes before auditions finally finish, and you're all sent into another room. There's chattering amongst everyone, different talk of who they think will make black swan.

You try your best to ignore it, sticking your headphones in for some extra noise. You get a nice thirty minutes of relaxation before it's finally time.

Ms. Bahr makes a appearance just to tell everyone results are posted- and as soon as she says it everyone's rushing out of the room. Your the last one to leave, taking a few deep breaths as you slowly make your way to the poster.

And then- your excitement crumbles when you see mr. jung and jessica hugging at the end of the hall. No way, no no no no no. Your footsteps get faster at the sight, and you finally come to a anxious hault when you see the list.

{Black/White swan: Jessica bush}

You wanted to cry when you read it, but you couldn't. At least not when your instructor was looking at you with the cruelest grin on his face.

He did this on purpose.

You danced beautifully, no one could tell you any different. You weren't being stuck up, but you genuinely felt that today was the best time you'd ever performed it. Your hard work felt like a waste, all because you rejected his advances.

You went home utterly disappointed in yourself, wishing that you could turn back the time and tell him yes. You'd do anything for that role, literally anything.

That's when you found yourself pondering your options, and finally- you came up with a solution.

*:.。..。.。o○*:.。..。.。o○*:.。..。.。o○*:.。..。.。

THE NEXT DAY

You couldn't believe you were doing this. You'd stood in front of your instructors door for a good five minutes before finally gathering the courage to even knock.

He welcomed you in as if nothing had happened, a smile on his face as he gestures for you to sit down. You obviously sit with no complaints, not wanting to piss him off when you were already about to ask for something huge.

"What brings you in?" his tone is very much condescending, and you have to bite you tongue to prevent a scowl from plastering on your face.

"I..I wanna take your offer." you say quietly, foot constantly tapping against the floor as you await a response. He ticks his tongue as he looks at you, before bursting into a fit of laughter.

"Don't you think it's too late?" he mentions, pointing his long finger to the paper on his table. You lean over to look at it, seeing the sheet of paper with jessica's name on it. It makes you want to throw up.

"With all due respect sir, you did this to spite me." you don't bite you tongue any longer, you know the motive behind this. He was a cruel man, but oh so clever.

He chuckles at your words, shaking his head as he stands from his chair. He slowly makes his way to the door, twisting the lock and then turning back to face you. "You really want that role huh?"

You hated this, you hated that he had the upper hand. But you also knew this was your decision, and you didn't have to do this. You had every right and the will to walk right out of this room and deal with the fact you won't ever be black swan.

Except, you didn't want to do that.

"I do.." you mutter, gaze now at your feet as he comes closer to you to tilt your chin upwards. He looks at you with fake pitty, somewhat happy that you'd come crawling back to him.

"Get on your knees." he commands, and you oblige him without another word. He licks his lips to moiston them at the sight of you, ready to pleasure him and get exactly what you've always wanted.

"You know what to do, you want the role?" he asks, and your hands shake with anxiety as you nod your head. "Then take it."

Alright, you could do this. Give him head, easy peasy.. right?

Your shaky hands are evidence of your nervousness as you undo the zipper on his pants, and when you see the bulge in his boxers you question why he's already hard? What was he doing before you got here?

When tuck your hands into the waistband of his boxers, he sighs at the feeling of your cold fingers on his skin. You try your best to not look at him when his length finally pops out, red tip right in front of your eyes.

He was bigger than you thought he'd be, but it was no wonder that he had no shame when coming onto you the first time around.

You didn't even realize you were gawking at it until he finally said something. "Scared?" the question infuriates you, and causes you to put the length of him in your mouth immediately.

You weren't scared of him. Fuck no.

He groans at the feeling of your mouth wrapped tight around him, keeping a tight grip on his desk as you bob your head up and down.

He smirks at the way your making him so messy, not caring that your getting spit all over his pelvis and even in his small happy trail. "Fuck- sluttin' me out aren't you?" You ignore his words, set on the fact this was purely for your role.

You wanted it, bad.

You pop his dick out of your mouth with heavy breaths, now swirling your tongue around his tip. You trace every part of it, the veins, the tip, everything. You can tell he likes it, because he finally allows his head to lean back.

You couldn't believe yourself, all of your previous fear had vanished from your body. Hoseok could tell too, because you were sucking the life out of him.

"Shit, just wanna bend you over-" you moan around his dick, not able to speak since you've shoved his dick right back down your throat. You're gagging now, but you don't pull away- determined to get what you wanted out of this.

Your hand is covered in saliva, all from you jerking off what you can take inside of your mouth. Or what you thought you couldn't take- because soon both of his hands move snug to the back of your head for more leverage.

He fucks your mouth with a punishing pace, smirking when he hears your little muffled whimpers and gags. "Love that shit- gonna look so pretty on stage." his words wouldve made you smile if your mouth wasn't so full- it only confirmed that the role was no longer jessicas.

It belonged to you, and you only.

"Where you want me to cum, hm?" he pulls out of your mouth breifly so you can speak, slapping the wet tip on your messy cheek. "On my tits- please."

You were way too into this, hurriedly lowering your top right under your breasts. They sit perfectly, and they look even better when he finally rubs himself to a orgasm, his milky white release coating your hard nipples.

"God- so fuckin hot." the words leaving his mouth sounded foreign, and you couldn't believe you were wet. You no longer denied the fact that you enjoyed what had just happened, it was a win win.

When you go to clean yourself off, he stops you- taking it upon himself to lift your top right over your still cum covered breasts. "Gonna go home with my cum on you, that'll finish up the deal."

You go home happy, going to sleep excited for the upcoming weeks as you were officially the black swan. Jessica on the other hand was feeling so many emotions at once. She was angry, dissapoonted, and overall confused.

She wondered why her role had been snatched from her and given to someone who didn't even deserve it. She'd done everything she could for that role.. including fuck her instructor.

Hoseok had promised her the same fate, that he'd give her the role regardless of her audition as long as she gave him some pussy. So she did so, without thinking of the consequences.

He'd played the both of you, and neither of you had any idea.

[sungbeam]

OFF THE RECORD ▷ PART ONE (EP1-8)

nonidol!ji changmin x fem!reader

everyone thinks changmin is cute and harmless, but you know that's not who he really is.

▷ genre, part warnings. e2l, childhood friends gone bad, (extra) slow burn, fluff, angst, mentions of childhood trauma and parental manipulation, arguing, bittersweet galore, nct ten is there for the sole purpose of being nosy like the rest of us or for being a 2nd male lead who knows!, swearing, hurt/comfort, ji changmin dancing. (need i go on), symptoms of panic/anxiety, a lot of non-tbz moments sorry i meant it when i said extra slow burn, pining haha...ha (very subtle)

▷ PART ONE WC. 18.5k

this is the third installment of the love in unity series! this can be read as a standalone, but i encourage u to read jacob and eric's storylines too! all prev and future yns will be referred to as _!yn ;) / otr part two

a/n: this was going to be a very quirky author's note, but it's not anymore bc i'm really mad at tumblr. pls enjoy :')

EPISODE ONE (PILOT): OFF THE CLOCK

"NIGHT, Yn!"

"Good night, Yn-ie."

"Make sure you get some rest, Yn-ah! Good luck with the report."

The door out of the laboratory building shuttered closed after your last coworkers and peers swept out to leave you to the white noise of the lights above your head and the cooling units. You were probably the only person crazy enough to still be chained to your lab workbench on a Friday night, especially when it was already six o'clock. Your stomach growled its complaints as you tucked a pen behind your ear with a sigh. There was probably a bag of shrimp chips in the break room snack stash, and you pushed your stool beneath the workbench to head into the break room.

Now that the laboratory was practically barren except for you, it wouldn't be a bad idea to take the reign of Kun's speaker…

The sound of your phone ringtone blared out loud from your pocket, and you scrambled to grab it with your other hand not occupied with shrimp chip crumb dust (after having washed your hands, of course). You put the call on speaker then deposited your phone onto the countertop so both hands could be used for eating. "Yo."

"You've been hanging around Mark too much," Yeri answered from the other end.

You snorted, covering your mouth for a moment, then replying, "Well good evening to you, too, my beloved. What's up?"

You could hear the muffled sounds of your friends from the other side of the phone. A car door slammed shut. "Hey-yo, is that Yn? Yn, what's up, my dude?"

"Mark, can you speak like a regular human?" That was Seungkwan. "Hi Yn-ie! We miss you, mwah!"

"Look, man. Me and Yn are homies, and this is literally just how I talk—"

The car door opened and Yeri must have taken initiative to get out of the car herself at this point. You laughed at her audible eye roll. "Okay, now that you've heard what I have to deal with, will you tell me that you're coming to the dance draft show tonight?"

Your mood soured.

It wasn't that you didn't want to go for Yeri's sanity's sake, you just didn't want to go, period. What the performing arts called a rehearsal, they referred to as a "draft" stage, where they planned rough runs of acts for the showcase. It just so happened that the dance department was holding their draft show for people to sit-in to watch tonight; their final showcase would be held on the Friday night of finals week, which was only in a few weeks now.

(Why did they call it a "draft" stage instead of simply a "rehearsal"? Well, you had no clue, and you didn't have any plans to ask anyone who would know the answer.)

When you didn't immediately answer, you heard Yeri's grumble. "Don't nerd out on me, Miss Yn Ln."

You gasped. "Nerd out on you? I'm being responsible—"

"You're being a workaholic!"

You pursed your lips together and quickly rinsed your fingers of shrimp chip crumbs. "Fair. But I'm sorry, I'm not going."

A brief pause. Then, the sigh. "Okay. That's okay," she said. "Wanna meet us for dinner afterwards at least?"

Your stomach grumbled, right on cue. It wasn't loud enough for Yeri to hear on the other end, but the timing made you laugh to yourself. "Definitely."

There was a smile in your friend's voice. "Cool! I'll text you details once we figure out what's happening. In the mean—" her voice was interrupted by the sound of muffled yelling on the other side, and Yeri pulled her mouth away from the phone so she could screech at Seungkwan, Mark, and now, Kim Jungwoo, to be quiet and put their seatbelts on. You heard vaguely about Jungwoo being late for his call time, and you were not at all surprised. She returned to the phone with a grumble. "You're really leaving me with the kids, Yn?"

You giggled. "Sorry, Yeri. I'll pay for your dinner."

"Deal. See you soon, babe."

"See ya, love!"

When the phone call ended, you realized just how thick the silence fell around you. It settled like a blanket over your senses, and it all became a bit overwhelming, especially after such a loud phone call.

You sighed, putting the shrimp chips back in the snack stash. You might as well go find where Kun hid his speaker to fill the silence then.

— ✶

People were yelling. And tripping. And crying.

In retrospect, this constituted as a normal backstage environment for something like a finals showcase draft rehearsal. It was hardly even a rehearsal, but more so a sneak peek showcase. There were people in the audience, after all.

Ji Changmin would know. This would be his third winter draft show out of his three years here in university. There were always showcases at the end of each quarter, but the winter show wielded the title of most anticipated. With the cold and rainy weather keeping most people indoors, it allowed for a larger crowd to come flocking toward said indoor modes of entertainment. Thus, the winter showcase and all of its hype.

Changmin lingered in his little corner of the backstage area, calmly stretching out his lanky limbs while chaos erupted all around him. He had two acts this time around—a duet with Lee Juyeon, as well as a solo performance. It had been enough to keep him busy for the quarter, among his other classes.

"—Jungwoo, you're late!"

He raised his head at the sound of Lee Minho’s voice from across the room, the dirty blond sending a deadpanned glare at the man in question. Kim Jungwoo’s eyes were wide with doe-like innocence as he made his way toward his friend, his posse following behind and taking in the chaos with amused awe. Changmin could easily recognize those present—Kim Yeri, Mark Lee, and Boo Seungkwan.

He turned his head away; it wasn’t his business, and he had much bigger things to worry about.

He raised his hands to his neck to put his headphones over his ears, but paused when he caught a few more echoes of their conversation.

“ — sorry Minho, but you know I can’t resist getting a free carpool ride,” Jungwoo said while setting his duffle bag in the corner and swiftly joining Minho in stretches. If Changmin was a hard ass when it came to dance and schedules, Minho was much worse. But Changmin respected him a lot, especially in a craft like dance and performance—he saw him as an equal.

A sigh from Minho. “Yeah, yeah. Poor Yeri.”

Yeri huffed, her hands shooting up into the air. “Thank you!”

Minho folded his arms over his chest as he stood up straight to stand next to Yeri as the two of them absentmindedly watched Jungwoo fold himself in two to stretch his long legs out. “Huh, no Yn tonight?”

Changmin didn’t know why he was still listening. He slowly lowered his headphones back to their position around his neck, then resumed stretching out his hamstrings. He could wait a couple more minutes before getting into his choreography…

“You know you’re not gonna see her anywhere near this place,” Yeri said with a pointed look. Changmin held back a retort, or even a snort. “Wanna get dinner with us tonight? She’s coming to meet us after the show.”

“Ah, I’d love to, but I promised Jisung I’d swing by the studio afterwards. Hey, have you met Ten yet? You should ask…”

Changmin decided that this was an appropriate moment to tune out. He swiftly donned his headphones and reached for his phone hidden in the pile of his duffle bag and jackets in the corner. He didn’t even know why he listened in when your friends brought you up. Why were you even still connected to the dance and performing arts department people anyway? He huffed, rolling his eyes with a small shake of his head. It wasn’t like you wanted to be connected to dance anyway. So why give him a constant reminder of your existence and the past you shared—

“Changminnie!” Juyeon appeared in front of him, waving to him with that goofy smile to get his attention.

Changmin broke into a smile as he shifted one side of his headphones from his ear. “Hey. Wanna go over some of the routine?”

Juyeon nodded. “Yeah, I’m ready. I was trying to get your attention, but I think you were just occupied.”

Whoops. Changmin flicked his wrist as he followed Juyeon down the hallway to a more private place to practice with his friend. “Yeah, sorry. I was just thinking of something.”

“Oh, okay,” Juyeon ducked his head into an empty dressing room in the back hallway, beckoning Changmin to follow him in. “Nothing to worry about though? You can talk to me; no judgment.”

Changmin chuckled and closed the door behind him. “Nah, nothing important. Let’s just focus on the performance.” Anything involving you? Definitely not important anymore.

— ✶

Late February brought the cold, bitter winds of night to the university, so the trek all the way across campus from the laboratory buildings to the performing arts hall was a hellish one. You kept your head tucked into the puffy collar of your puffer jacket, hands stuffed into your pockets, a happy tune blasting in your ears to keep you going all the way up the road. It was around nine o’clock by the time you made it to the front of the performing arts hall, and you could already see the sea of people meandering outside its doors post-draft show.

You shivered and pulled your phone out from your pocket to see where your friends were waiting for you.

“Yn-ie!”

Your head lifted and you grinned, waving your hand at Seungkwan who was making his way over to you. “Hi Kwannie,” you greeted and wrapped your arms around him in a warm embrace.

When you’d pulled away, Seungkwan made a face as he shuddered. “Jesus, it’s cold. I should have brought a scarf or something. Did you walk here?”

You began to nod, but he tsked. “Aish, Yn. You should’ve called! No one should have to walk in this torturous cold.”

You laughed. “It’s no big deal. We’re about to go get some hot food, so it’s cool.”

“We might have to wait for a little longer.” Both you and Seungkwan turned toward Yeri, Mark, and Jungwoo who were walking over. Jungwoo had a sweatband holding his bangs out of his face and his duffle slung over his shoulder. He had his jacket draped over his arm; he was probably warm from the showcase. “We’re waiting on Ten to finish up.”

“Hi Jungwoo,” you greeted him, and the man returned the expression with a side hug. You furrowed your brows. “Who’s Ten?’’

Mark replied with a sniffle from the cold, “Oh, he’s a new exchange student! Well, he was originally admitted here, but he went abroad for a year. He's with the NCT frat. Super cool, super funny. He’s great at dance though.”

“I think you’ll vibe with him, Yn,” Yeri chimed in. “He’s asking a couple people for their opinion on a few parts of his routine, so I think he’ll be out soon.”

You nodded in understanding. You didn’t mind waiting, but you hoped what Yeri said about him was true. Hopefully you did get along with him, because you were honestly far too tired to forcefully play nice. You were hoping for a chill night anyway. Then again, as long as you could avoid a certain someone tonight, this would turn out to be a chill night in general.

You and your friends chatted for a few minutes only before Jungwoo caught someone’s eyes from behind you, Yeri, and Mark. He brightened. “Ten! Ten, over here!”

You all swiveled.

Ten was just as lean and lithe as Jungwoo was, but with black bangs, a pair of round spectacles hanging from the collar of his white T-shirt, and a cute smile on his face. You and he made brief eye contact before Jungwoo was hopping on the balls of his feet to greet him.

Jungwoo slung an arm around Ten’s shoulders as he brought him over to the group. “Yn, this is Ten Lee. Ten, this is Yn-ie—the friend we mentioned earlier.”

Your eyes widened slightly. “Why was I mentioned?” You laughed nervously.

Ten flashed you a boyish kind of smile. “Oh, it was nothing; don’t worry. It’s nice to meet you though.”

Your heart didn't slow at his assurance. “Ah, okay then. Uh, nice to meet you, too!”

“Did you get your routine settled?” Seungkwan asked as the lot of you began to move in one, loose blob toward Yeri’s car. (How all of you would manage to fit, that was something you mentally were trying to figure out. In Yeri’s tiny sedan, you might have to squish four people into the back seat.)

Ten nodded enthusiastically. “Yup, it’s all sorted. Minho and Changmin were really helpful with their comments.”

You felt the people around you freeze at the mention of Changmin’s name. You stiffened as well, but tried to force the strange feeling to go away. Your friends knew the drill, too, but you saw the way they glanced at you from their periphery.

Ten was smart, you realized, when his head tilted at all of your reactions.

Time for damage control. “That’s—that’s good!” Mark’s voice cracked and coughed to clear it. “I mean, Minho’s always been really attentive to details and stuff. I think he was almost recruited to become an idol or something like that…”

Ten pursed his lips, as if silently saying, ‘I’m not buying this bull’. You decided to just… do it. “Changmin’s a great dancer, too,” you said, and everyone shot disbelieving glances your way, but you could already see how Ten was grasping onto everything you were saying. You forced a neutral tone into the way you spoke, forced yourself not to let the bitterness seep through. No one deserved to fall victim to the feelings that were only meant for one Ji Changmin. “I’m glad he helped you out. He’s really good at sharp movements and isolations.”

“Oh, do you dance, Yn?” Ten piped up with a twinkle in his eyes.

“Ruh roh,” you heard Seungkwan murmur, and he shuffled away from you to go to the other side of Yeri’s car.

Maybe you purposefully let him see right through you. “Not really. It was a long time ago.”

You and Ten held eye contact, the silent tension like communication passed between the two of you—this was personal, but Ten could figure out that there was more to the story. It was odd though; the way he didn’t fear prodding just a little bit. You didn’t know why you were letting yourself feed him more bait, but Yeri was hollering for the two of you to squeeze into the backseat, and you snapped out of it.

Weird…

Ten held the backseat door open for you. “Looking forward to getting to know you, Yn,” he said pleasantly.

Your eyes narrowed slightly as you slipped into the backseat. “Same to you…”

EPISODE TWO: OFF THE TABLE

YOUR curiosity won you out.

In fact, it won you over so much that you agreed to get coffee with Ten Saturday afternoon—with Mark and Yeri, of course. The four of you had coordinated stopping by one of the coffee shops in the shopping mall just down the hill from the university to hang out and destress a little from the incoming second wave of STEM midterms. Well, you needed to destress. Mark was in communications, Yeri in psychology, and Ten was… what was Ten’s major again?

“Foreign affairs,” he answered before lifting the straw of his iced americano to his lips. “Lots of foreign language classes and politics and history. Politics and capitalism classes are not my favorite, but all the cultural courses on campus are really great.”

You bobbed your head, propping your chin onto your palm. You sat across from him at one of high tables in the cafe; Mark and Yeri’s stools were barren, save for the belongings they left for you and Ten to watch, while they literally sprinted across the mall to the grocery store because they forgot they were supposed to bring booze to the NCT-RVE joint alumni homecoming tonight. You probably weren’t going to go just because social energy came in short supply these days, but you promised to send a card for your friends in RVE.

“I can imagine,” you commented. “I took a really neat course on African tribes and culture in freshman year, and I miss my professor a lot. I sometimes wonder what would have happened had I joined his study abroad program in Ghana instead of staying here.”

Ten’s head did the tilt thing again, the one you recognized from last night as something he did when he was intrigued. “That does sound really cool. What made you stay?”

Where do I even begin? “My major,” you replied simply. It wasn’t really a lie—not entirely a lie. You sipped on your latte, a faraway look in your eyes. “I was so set on a plan that I guess I got nervous about the unknown should I have gone on that trip.”

“Mm, I understand.” He had taken on a softer look now, something more akin to empathy. “It is a little scary, but while I was in Indonesia, I realized I wouldn’t have traded such an experience for anything else."

You set your cup down. "Have you always wanted to dabble in global affairs?"

"Uh, I'm not sure," he said, head tilted upward with a scrunch in his nose. He nudged his glasses up the smooth slope of his sculpted nose. "I was kind of put in a situation where I had to learn a lot of new languages, and I luckily turned out to be pretty good at picking up on them."

"Wow, that's really cool," you chuckled. A talent you definitely envied. And it seemed like Ten had made the decision to pursue this future of his on his own. You wished you could say the same.

From the counter of the café, you heard one of the workers call out your order number for cinnamon rolls, fresh from the oven.

You began to slip off your stool, and Ten spoke up, "Oh, I can totally go get those."

"It's no problem," you chirped, "I'm already down anyway." You were swift to scurry over to the counter and pick up your table's tray of cinnamon rolls with a smile at the worker in deep gratitude. The thick, warm sweetness wafted into your nose, and you inhaled the delights with a blissful grin.

However, as you turned to head back to the table, you halted abruptly, nearly knocking the plates on the tray into each other.

There, standing next to your table and chatting with Ten, were Ji Changmin and Choi Chanhee.

Great.

The sweet dessert smell soured and tasted like acid on your tongue. Bitter, like the taste of hot coffee straight from the pot. You schooled your face into neutrality, but there was no way all of the uncomfortableness could stay away.

You made your way over; the tray was getting heavy.

"—actually here with Yn, Mark, and Yeri—" Ten was pointing your way and you had to control your urge to hide.

Changmin and Chanhee's heads turned in sync, but only Changmin's eyes narrowed at the sight of you. You returned the expression wholeheartedly.

Chanhee held his breath, muttering a "Yikes" under his breath, while Ten observed the interaction with slightly parted lips. Huh.

"Ji."

"Ln."

You deposited the tray onto the table and your biceps sighed in relief. Those four cinnamon rolls truly were quite hefty on their own.

You could still feel Changmin’s eyes on you as you slid onto the stool across from Ten. “Something you’d like to say to me?” You addressed him with ill-suppressed snark.

Changmin’s eyes narrowed. “Nothing that you’ll take into importance anyway. Just didn’t think you would ever hang out with someone from the dance department.”

“Ten’s got a life outside of dance, Changmin,” you replied. You flashed him a thin-lipped smile. “He gets it.”

“And you’re so much better than me for having a so-called life,” he rolled his eyes. “You know, some people are just really passionate about dance—something you seem to still not understand.”

“I really don’t think you want me to bring up the trove of things you don’t understand—”

Chanhee subtly moved over to Ten’s side as the two of them observed the sparring match between you and Changmin. A sigh fell from his lips, and his eyebrows raised up all the way to his pink-dyed hairline.

Ten had taken one of the plates of cinnamon buns in front of him, silently offering Chanhee some. The latter refused, and Ten began to peel away one of the sultry, sweet dough layers. “Is this… normal?” He asked Chanhee under his breath, motioning to the still-bickering couple across from them.

Chanhee snorted. “It’s their mating call.”

It seemed he had said those four words loud enough to catch yours and Changmin’s attention. A miracle, indeed.

“Ew,” both you and Changmin immediately grimaced at Chanhee. Then you looked at one another with a greater degree of disgust. “Stop copying me!”

…Or, less so a miracle, but rather, a tragedy.

Chanhee let out a haggard sigh, eyes sullen to a deadpan. “One of the few things the two of you will ever agree on.”

“The last thing we’ll ever agree on,” Changmin grumbled as he shoved his hands into the pockets of his jacket. “C’mon Chanhee. We should probably order before JC!Yn and Kei finish loading up the car.”

Changmin was already making his way over to the cashier when Ten managed to get in a final question, “Are you guys coming to the NCT-RVE homecoming tonight?”

“Sure—”

“No.”

Chanhee sent Ten an apologetic look for Changmin’s brusque answer. “Sorry about him. We were thinking of it, but he might be practicing with Juyeon tonight. See you later, Ten—and Yn!” He chased after Changmin, ambushing his friend by practically leaping onto his back and then smacking his shoulder.

Now that Changmin was away from you, the red in your vision had begun to clear away, and you finally remembered the set of delicious cinnamon rolls waiting for you.

Ten propped his cheek against his fist. “So… you and Changmin…”

You made a sour face as you cut off a slice of your cinnamon roll. “What about the gremlin?” You asked. As soon as the buttery, sweet delight hit your tongue, you felt your body lighten and you did a little happy dance in your seat.

Ten chuckled at your behavior. “Lovers gone wrong?”

You choked on the bite.

Your new friend’s eyes widened comically to the size of saucers as he literally pounced across the table to pat your back. “Shit—sorry, Yn. I probably should’ve waited for you to finish swallowing, huh?” He winced when you’d managed to breathe correctly and washed the bite of food down with a sip of coffee. He returned to his perch, letting you recover while he talked through his thoughts. “I don’t mean to pry—actually—” he paused, reconsidering, “—I do mean to pry. Sorry, I’m kind of a sucker for this kind of stuff.”

One of your eyes squinted at him as you massaged your throat. “Yeah, I kind of figured.”

He beamed at you boyishly, the kind of expression that almost had your defenses slipping. Almost. Ten was one slippery fellow. For some reason, you kind of respected him for being upfront about the nosiness, and if you were being honest, if this drama wasn’t yours, you would also be curious about the whole thing.

“Can’t help myself sometimes,” he confessed with a mere shrug. “You don’t owe an explanation or backstory, of course.”

You sucked in a breath, opting to hold back on eating your pastry until you and Ten were done with this topic. “I’m just going to say that Changmin and I were not ‘lovers gone wrong’,” you said, body shuddering.

“Mm,” he hummed. His eyes wandered behind you and over your head, swiftly followed by the action of waving to Changmin and Chanhee on their way out of the cafe. “It’s just interesting to me. Didn’t you just advocate for him the other night at the draft show?”

That rang a bell, unfortunately. “It’s complicated.”

Ten pressed his mouth into a saccharine smile. “I can imagine.”

EPISODE THREE: OFF THE PHONE

THERE was an avid knocking at the laboratory door, usually done by those who didn’t actually work at this specific lab. This lab area was usually reserved for upperclassmen and graduate students and their work.

“Yn-ie, could you get the door, please?” You heard Kun called out to you from his office. It wasn’t just the two of you tonight, but rather, just a few others you didn’t know as well as you did Kun. He often worked late hours like you did, always overworking himself even more as a fresh grad student. You, on the other hand, were trying to finish up this one research paper resulting from last quarter’s research project. If you were lucky, you would be able to send it off to be peer reviewed soon.

You slipped out from behind your workbench and maneuvered the maze of workbenches to head out into the corridor. Exhaustion wore at your bones from having such a long day, but you really did need to get some productive work done so you could focus specifically on your midterms approaching at the end of this week and the beginning of the following week.

However, as you turned the corner into the corridor, you nearly missed your footing. At the end of the hallway where the glass door to the outside was, you found yourself identifying one Ji Changmin and his friend, someone you didn’t recognize. The latter wore a gray hoodie beneath a black puffer vest, and he reacted the opposite to how Changmin did when they caught sight of you.

“Hey! Could you open the door, please?” Not-Changmin hollered through the glass, furiously shaking his sweater-pawed hand down at the door handle.

You didn’t want to. God, you really didn’t want to.

Changmin stared you down, as if daring you to come closer.

You opened the door, and let the cool gust of late February air and two outsiders into the safety and warmth of the laboratory building.

Hoodie Guy shuddered violently to get the cold out of his system. “Jesus, it’s cold outside. Thanks,” he said to you. Then he nudged Changmin with his elbow, as if jolting the man into reality.

“What are you doing here?” You asked, words directed toward Changmin in particular.

His dark bangs were tucked beneath a black beanie with his pair of black headphones hanging around his neck. “You think I want to be here?”

His friend sent him a look, his eyes flickering between you and Changmin furiously until the pieces clicked into his mind. “Well, uh oh…” he muttered while turning away slightly to scratch his head. He gathered his wits then. “Uh, Yn, right?”

You perked up. “Yes.”

“Uh,” he drawled. “We’re actually here for Jacob Bae. You see, we told him we’d come pick him up to take him over to—”

“Is he here?” Changmin asked.

Your eyebrow shot upward. At least they were here for a proper reason. You crossed your arms over your chest, glancing back toward the main laboratory floor way down the hall. Man, the safe zone felt so far away. “He actually just left like, ten minutes ago. Sorry.” The apology was said to Changmin’s friend, the one who seemed to have been able to figure out who exactly you were to Changmin. Not that you were anything to him. And did Changmin just talk about you to all his friends or something—?

“Oh.”

Changmin tapped his friend with the back of his hand. “C’mon Sunwoo. We’ll just meet him over there.”

Sunwoo wrinkled his nose. “I just think it’s weird that he didn’t text us to let us know before we came over here.”

There was a pause and you could practically see the gears in Changmin’s head turning. You would have left them to their own company, but you technically weren’t allowed to leave unauthorized students alone.

It was strange seeing Changmin break into something akin to sheepishness. You saw the dimples appear in the apples of his cheeks as he cupped the back of his neck. “I might not have told him we were coming…”

Sunwoo’s eyes and mouth widened and he whacked his friend with the length of his hoodie sleeve. Changmin let out one of those hyena laughs that set off triggers in your mind. It’d been awhile since you heard that… “Hyung! You’re so unreliable sometimes, oh my god. Even Eric would have remembered to tell him!”

Changmin made a noise of dismissal, slinging an arm around his friend. “Ah, it’s fine. We’ll just meet him there—as you said.”

“Worst texter award goes to,” Sunwoo rolled his eyes.

“I guess some things never change.” The words slipped out of your mouth before you could stop yourself, and both Sunwoo and Changmin suddenly remembered that you were in the hallway with them. Sunwoo had perked up as if he were surprised you would even comment on their situation, but Changmin cut an unreadable expression your way. You didn’t want to read into it.

“You literally forgot to answer a text I sent for three days,” Changmin quipped.

Well, if he was going to play the back and forth game. “That was once out of how many other times,” you scoffed. “You refused to answer anyone’s texts in the mornings anyway, so don't get on my case about that.”

“He did that to you, too?!” Sunwoo cut in with fire behind his words.

You could’ve sworn you saw the slightest bit of blush grace Changmin’s cheekbones as you hid a laugh behind your hand. “He did that to everyone—”

“Hey, I’m better over call; you know that!” Changmin argued. “Sunwoo, you can’t even talk about being a bad texter. I have to hunt for you on discord sometimes to get a straight answer.”

Sunwoo groaned, “Yah! Whatever. It’s still better than your average three-business-day reply speed.”

Changmin stammered, “It is not an average of three business days.” If your ears were not deceiving you, Ji Changmin was whining. “It’s a couple hours at least.”

“A couple hours means half a day,” you said to Sunwoo.

Changmin whipped his attention back to you, finger jabbed accusingly in your direction. “Hey, missy! You always fell asleep on-call, even when you promised that you would stay up to help me study.”

You shook your head. “Not my fault! You know that I always fell asleep around midnight back then.”

“Well, back then—”

“Is everything okay out here?”

Everything in the corridor came to a stand still, and Changmin closed his mouth, mid-sentence. Kun had his head poking out of the door to the main floor, a crease pressed between his brows and right above the rim of his thin spectacles. He eyed the two non-laboratory students with a slight grimace. Of course, Kun was aware of who Changmin was. He could recognize him because of his famed performer reputation on campus, but he knew his history with you because you had spent far too many late nights here at the lab with things plaguing your mind. You and Kun both had a problem with trouble sleeping and being workaholics.

You turned slightly to Kun. “Yeah, everything’s okay, Kun-ge.”

He sent you an unimpressed look.

“We,” Changmin piped up as he urged Sunwoo to the door, “were just leaving.” The mirth and fire from the bickering just a few seconds ago had faded, and you could feel him slipping away.

Kun drummed his fingers along the doorframe, eyebrows shooting up for a second. “Oh-kay… Yn-ie, Ten says he’s right around the corner and asks if you want some company walking home.”

The door to the laboratory behind you was held open, and the night breeze brushed through your hair. When you looked back, you saw that Changmin had stalled in the door for a second. But, it had only been that second before he and his friend were gone.

“Oh.” You made your way over to Kun. “That’s really cool of him. I’d love that.” Some company on a late-night walk back to your apartment did not sound bad at all. You’d done plenty of trips on your own, but sometimes having even one person with you would have been nice.

Kun nodded, pursing his lips, as the two of you walked into the main lab together and toward his office off to the side. “Okay, I’ll let him know. You’re for sure okay though? That must have been… not nice, seeing Changmin here.”

You gave a stiff shrug, your hip leaning against the door of his office while Kun settled back at his desk. “It’s fine,” you said. To be honest, you weren’t even sure if that was a lie or not. You’d heard Changmin laugh for the first time in years. You’d seen the dimples in his cheeks, the sheepishness in his expression—you swallowed.

Once upon a time, you associated all of those things with something like happiness. Your happiness.

Kun fixed you with a pointed look. “If you need to talk.”

You gave a firm nod. “I know where to find you.”

He clicked his tongue, shooting you a finger gun, then shooed you off to finish your work and pack your things. Ten was just around the corner, after all.

EPISODE FOUR: OFF THE RECORD

CHANGMIN liked to think that he became nosy, and that he wasn't born this way. But ever since he overheard that Kun guy asking about Ten wanting to walk you home, he couldn't help but wonder…

He shook his head, brushing his hair out of his eyes and off his forehead, before those same bangs flopped back into their place. He walked back onto the main stage of the performing arts hall to the soundtrack of a hype playlist blasting from the ears of his headphones. As he made his way past groups and individuals doing their own thing, he absentmindedly searched for one person in particular.

Conveniently, he found Ten setting himself up right by Changmin's things. He was shouldering off his black puffer jacket, rolling the material up into a manageable ball to shove into his duffle bag.

"Hey," Changmin greeted, bending down slightly to grab his water bottle.

Ten straightened and flashed him a smile. "Hey."

It wouldn't be awkward would it? Probably not. Just be cool about it, Changmin. He smiled slightly, the dimples in his cheeks disarming his acquaintance. "I didn't know you and Yn were close."

Your name felt so… foreign, yet familiar, on his tongue. It was like tasting déjà vu, like eating a treat from childhood that had been associated with good feelings, but he couldn't decide if it was still as good as he remembered or a trick of his mind.

The mention of your name brought a jolt of energy to Ten's body and Changmin saw the man lean into the conversation. Curious… "Oh? Well, I mean—" he gave a shrug, "—she's really cool. She just seems like a good person to get to know, y'know? Why do you ask?"

Changmin couldn't tell how much he trusted the slight narrowing of Ten's feline eyes. There was no way you hadn't mentioned him to Ten at some point or another. To be honest, he didn't like the feeling of you still lingering in his head if he didn't linger in yours. It meant a myriad of things that he loathed to admit.

He let the feeling slide away, let his mouth tilt upward like his eyes to the spotlights in the ceiling. "Just be…" He shook his head. "Nothing. It's nothing." He flicked his wrist, as he spun his water bottle cap on tight. "You can forget about it."

Ten sent him a look that Changmin pointedly ignored.

Somewhere within the depths of the performing arts center, Changmin could hear the howling laughter of his friend Hyunjae as he most likely bugged his best friend out of her mind, both to her chagrin and her delight. That was another can of worms entirely.

Ten piped up as he settled onto the backstage floor while Changmin mentally went through some of the problem sets he had to review today. "If you don't mind me asking, why are you and Yn on such… uneven ground with each other?"

There it was. Changmin snorted. "Uneven ground? I don't even know if we're on the same ground."

"You're both really friendly people," Ten added, "so it just doesn't make sense to me."

Changmin pursed his lips. He never felt the need to divulge this stuff to anyone but his friends, but he didn't know what Ten already knew. He didn't know what you told him, but based on the fact that Ten wasn't looking at him the same way you did… Changmin scratched the back of his head and leaned his side against the wall to face him. "Something happened a long time ago. I guess we just both hold a grudge well."

Ten huffed a laugh in response. "Remind me never to get on your bad side then," he joked.

— ✶

There was a buzz about the university newspaper room. The Daily had only a handful of crew members onboard, mainly because it was so selective. Over the past few years that you had been apart of the staff, you and a few others had gradually loosened the reputation of the Daily's elitist interview process—there was still some level of intimidation that ensured the publication took on the hard workers and not those simply looking for an extracurricular to put on their resume though.

So when there was talk of a new staff member, everyone knew about it.

You let yourself in the door with a sigh, brushing the hair from your eyes held up with a random, blue claw clip you found on your bathroom sink. The bus had been late this morning because it broke down, but you luckily were able to make it to your lecture on time. You had run over here for a quick meeting that Kim Doyoung had summoned you for, no doubt about the new hire.

"Hey guys," you said as you passed by clusters of desks piled with copyedits and heads buried in monitor screens. The sounds of typing stopped briefly with each head you walked past:

"Yn!"

"Hi Yn!"

"Sup Yn—HEY! I just did my hair this morning!" Mark yelped, hands smoothing down the braids in his hair.

You giggled as you patted his head. "Your hair needs a break, Mark."

As you disappeared around the corner, you heard him shout back, "So do you, but you never hear me complaining!"

You rolled your eyes with an ill-concealed smile. The door to Doyoung's little editor in chief office was right down the hall next to the office for the sponsoring professor. As much as you and the others teased him about getting the "Boss man" office, he always complained to you about being on edge with the professor's office next door. You didn't quite understand since Professor Woo was almost never in his office anyway, but you supposed you could see.

Doyoung's door was open, and the fourth year's head perked up at the sound of your voice and nearing footsteps. He didn't even wait for you to knock or say hi, before beckoning you inside. "Yn, thank god you know how to hustle. Close the door on your way in. Thanks."

Your eyebrows shot up at the terseness in his tone, but didn't question him until you'd closed the door and settled into the chair opposite him. His desk, much like those outside, was covered in a sea of paper, with his laptop being the only land in sight. "What's up? You sound stressed."

He shot you a look over the rims of his thin glasses. "When am I not stressed?"

"Valid."

"Okay," he began with a sigh that made your concern rise just a bit more, "you know the situation with our performing arts review section, right?"

You nodded. "Of course."

The situation with the performing arts review section of the paper was inherently a mess. For a handful of years, the performing arts section was written under a pseudonym (lovingly dubbed Opera Glasses)—the identity of the reviewer was anonymous—which was a product of an incident a few years ago where a performer was unhappy with a review left by someone on the paper and came to ask, very unkindly, for a rewrite. Since then, the paper had been swallowed up by so much that finding a permanent writer or reviewer for the section became less and less of a priority.

When you joined the publishing team, it had been in the middle of freshman year when you were also putting your application out for research projects. Joining had felt like the right thing to do, as much as it was an act of rebellion against your mother and your childhood. They had asked if you knew anything about dance of all things.

And well, you did know.

You'd written one piece—one piece that was entirely you. It had been for one of the dancers just debuting at his first winter showcase. Since then, you couldn't stomach writing another one or watching another one.

You ghost wrote, you edited, you advised—but you stuck to putting your energy into covering the STEM-related sections of the paper now.

So Doyoung already knew your relationship with the performing arts review section. "Well," he cleared his throat, making a vague flourish with his hand, "I'm sure you already know that I just interviewed a new prospective recruit. I was wondering if you would be willing to take them under your wing and to show them the ropes."

Oh. That wasn't exactly what you expected him to say. Your heart kicked up for an entirely new reason, however. You'd always wanted to be someone's mentor. To be someone's older sister. "I mean, yeah. I'd love to," you stammered, a smile slowly curling onto your lips. "That would be really cool."

Doyoung sighed, his shoulders sinking in relief. "Thank you."

"But wait." You cocked your head to the side as you asked, "What does Opera Glasses have to do with this?"

"I want her to eventually take over for it," he explained. "She knows quite a bit about theater and music—little less about dance, though. I know that you have your issues with the dance department, but out of everyone here, you probably understand dance stuff the most. I just ask that you help her out a little with that, and maybe even introduce her to some of the people there so we can ease her in with interviews—"

You opened your mouth to interrupt him, but he sent you a pointed look. He continued, "Just hear me out, okay? If you're uncomfortable at all, you can back out. And you don't even have to back out right now or completely; maybe you could have Mark introduce her to Jungwoo for interviews, and you can just stick to the behind-the-scenes stuff."

Doyoung exhaled. "Okay, so what are your thoughts?"

You worried your bottom lip between your teeth. What did you think… What did you think?

Even the thought of stepping foot into a practice room made the yelling and screams echo in the caverns of your mind. But you'd missed them—missed the polished wood floors, the floor-to-ceiling mirrors, the people. God, you couldn't even stay away from the people if you tried, no matter how much you tried convincing yourself you could.

You weren't fooling anyone.

You swallowed. You'd always wanted to be a big sister.

What was the harm in giving this a try?

(Changmin. You'd probably run into Changmin a lot more often than if you didn't accept. But you could see him from that one night: the sheepishness, the dimples, the laugh. Why couldn't you get over that interaction?)

You mustered up your courage and straightened in your seat. "I'll still do it. When do we start?"

EPISODE FIVE: OFF THE MARK

IT turned out that Doyoung intended for you and your new recruit, Bae Sumin, to get started right away. With the winter showcase only a couple weeks away, it was imperative that the two of you dived right in.

"—so what made you interested in joining the team?" You asked, shoving your hands into your jacket pockets to hide signs of nervousness from your underclassman peer. The two of you were walking from the Daily's newsroom and over to the performing arts center. It was about a ten minute walk, but you figured that it would give you two the opportunity to get to know one another.

Sumin was a multimedia major, as you had been told earlier when the two of you just met for the first time in the entryway of the Daily newsroom. She was cute and well-dressed—she wore a pleated skirt and sweater with a white collar peeking through. Her smile was dazzling, and reminded you of someone who would do well on stage. No wonder she had theater and performing experience.

"Oh!" She shot you one of those dazzling smiles, her hand shooting up to shift the white, fluffy earmuffs seated over her head. "I actually had a cousin who came here and shared with me some of the Daily's earlier issues. She always said it was kind of competitive to get in, but I figured it wouldn't hurt to try."

You bobbed your head. "That's really cool." A small laugh fell from your lips, "I'm glad you did try! Lots of people just assume they're gonna get turned away and they don't try at all, you know?"

Sumin hummed in understanding.

Something had settled nicely in your chest throughout this walk. Even if your past anxieties were beginning to bubble up to the surface at the sight of the nearing performing arts buildings, Sumin's easy conversation calmed you. It was one less thing to worry about.

Yesterday, when Doyoung had proposed this job for you, you had asked Mark to accompany you and Sumin to the arts buildings. He couldn't walk with you two, but he promised to meet you there. Now, you were kind of glad you got to have this bit of bonding time with her.

“I think Doyoung said that I should introduce you to a few people in particular,” you said offhandedly and pulled your phone out to check yours and Doyoung’s text thread.

Sumin did the same, most likely taking out any notes she had taken from Doyoung’s instructions. “Yeah, something like Lee Minho, Kim Jungwoo… the Hwang?—the Hwang siblings, uhm and Ji Changmin…?”

Your footing faltered for a second, and Sumin asked if you were all right, but you recovered quickly. You let out an embarrassed laugh, feeling heat crawl up your neck. Why in the world did his name catch you off guard like that? Maybe it was because you assumed Doyoung would just let you avoid Changmin, but realistically, if Sumin was going to do an interview with the dance department’s most prominent members, then there was no avoiding Changmin.

You just had to suck it up and be an adult about it.

It was three years ago… What was the big deal?

But as you moved to open the door to the backstage area for Sumin with your ID card, you felt your throat tighten in on itself. You forced a smile to your face as you let Sumin go in before you so you could turn your head out to inhale a large lungful of fresh air. Then, you ducked in after her.

The backstage corridors were as hustle n' bustle as you expected them to be. The lights were dim-looking from the black walls and floors marred with scuff marks from years upon years of use. It was an overwhelming tidal wave of sensory details—what, with the clashing sounds of chatter and music, the smell of some kind of polish (or maybe that was resin?), the warmth of energy in the air and all around you.

The hairs on the back of your neck stood like you could sense someone was coming this way.

You gestured down the opposite direction to Sumin. “Come on; I’m pretty sure they’re down this way.”

It was a curious thing, memory. You could recall late nights of catching the bus to these very practice rooms and backstage rooms from when you were in high school. Performing on the stage was a whole other experience in itself, and though part of you missed it, there were other feelings that dominated the hints of nostalgia now.

You could hear the chatter even clearer now, even if their words were muddled.

The door to one of the larger practice rooms were left ajar, and though you only peered in, you felt the warmth hit you like a wave. Your throat was closing up again—breathe—

“Hey,” you said into the room, catching quite a few eyes. From an initial scan, you determined that Changmin wasn’t amongst the crush of people socializing in here, and you couldn’t identify the feeling manifesting in the pit of your stomach.

Jungwoo was the first to bound over toward you, swiftly followed by Minho and Hyunjin, one of the Hwang siblings. “Yn-ie! I can’t believe you actually came. I thought Doyoung was joking.”

A smile made its way onto your lips and you accepted Jungwoo’s side hug. “Yeah, well Doyoung doesn’t joke around.”

“He really doesn’t,” Hyunjin said with a grimace. “He’s kind of scary, that one.”

“If you can survive Minho,” you said to him, “then you can survive Doyoung.”

Minho made a face at you. “What have I ever done to you, Yn?”

Nothing; this is just me trying to pretend I’m not seconds away from quivering like a leaf in the wind. You laughed. “Nothing yet. Guys, I'd like you to meet Sumin. She’s our new recruit at the Daily, and she’s gonna be the one conducting interviews for the winter showcase this year.”

Sumin didn’t need much prompting to smile and wave at your friends in that same charming way. “Hi, nice to meet you!”

The three dancers before you replied in kind. Jungwoo offered to introduce her to some of the others in the room, and before you knew it, she was swept away.

Hyunjin made a comment about needing to go check up on a friend of his, leaving you and Minho chatting to the side of the room.

“Wow,” Minho said offhandedly as the two of you watched Jungwoo and Sumin work their way around the room, “she’s a natural at this. Where’d Kim find this one?”

“She saw some of our older issues,” you replied. You watched as Sumin ignited a sort of brightness in every conversation she started. You struggled to swallow; now that you didn’t feel obligated to keep up appearances, especially in front of Sumin, your jitteriness was beginning to come on just a little stronger. You absentmindedly massaged your throat, willing it to loosen up.

Minho glanced over at you, his eyes catching your anxious actions. “Must have a lot of confidence in her if he’s throwing her straight into taking charge of interviews. How’re you holding up?” The latter was said lowly and under his breath in case someone just happened to be close enough to catch onto your conversation.

Minho didn’t know your history with the dance department as thoroughly as your close friends did, but it didn’t take a genius to see that you weren’t at your absolute best right now. You gave a stiff shrug. “I’m alright,” you managed to say.

He nodded, though it was probably more for your sake than him saying he believed you. “It’s funny,” he drawled, “one might think that by sending you here on behalf of the paper, that you were behind Opera Glasses.”

Now that, you could let out a genuine chuckle at.

Minho gauged your reaction but smiled to himself. He wasn’t one to really care for the drama and gossip side that came privy to the performing arts review section, but you couldn’t blame him if he was curious.

“That would be really stupid if that was the case,” you mused.

“It would be,” he agreed. “Is this a sign that this will be the end of Opera Glasses then? Finally a face to the name?”

You pursed your lips. “Actually, I’m not too sure what Doyoung will end up doing. I’m sure he’ll call for a board meeting to decide what the review’s fate will be, but it’s not exactly our top priority—”

Your voice and words trailed off as your eyes met a pair coming into the practice room. You and Changmin froze at the sight of one another, two deer caught in headlights, and you felt your heart palpitate violently in your chest. Your breath left your lungs—his expression was filled with surprise, until it morphed into something you couldn’t read.

“What are you doing here?” He deadpanned.

Minho’s eyebrows shot up. “You didn’t know Yn was stopping by? We all got the email from Director Lee, man.”

Changmin pressed his mouth together and it made the dimple in his cheek deepen. He looked you up and down, and he opened his mouth to say something else, but paused when you unconsciously brushed your thumb against the hollow of your throat. (Dear god, why couldn’t you breathe? Breathe, breathe, breathe—)

He seemed to lose whatever he was going to say. You swore the sharpness in his gaze softened.

But then his jaw tightened; you didn’t know why. “I didn’t think you’d actually show,” he muttered under his breath.

Ouch.

The words from his mouth pricked uncomfortably at the back of your mind. You found your voice again. “I’ll be gone before you know it,” you replied tersely.

Your response touched a nerve for him, too. He cut his attention to the rest of the practice room. “Where’s your new girl?”

“Over there,” you said, inclining your head across the room where Sumin and Hwang Yeji were currently swapping contact information. Something soared in your chest at the sight, but you couldn’t tell if it was pride or envy.

Without any additional prompting, you watched Changmin make his way toward Sumin and away from you. You didn’t realize you were holding in a breath until you finally exhaled—

“Yn! Sorry I’m late.” Mark bumbled into the practice room, wiping a drop of sweat from his forehead as he quite literally crashed against the wall next to you and Minho. He was panting and gasping for breath, and you and Minho couldn’t help but express your amusement.

“It’s all cool, dude,” you assured while patting his head.

“I should probably get back to it,” Minho said as he began walking away from you and Mark. “Nice to see you, Mark. Feel free to take a water bottle from the green room.”

Mark thumped his head against the wall with his eyes closed. “Thanks, man,” he huffed.

With a snicker under his breath, Minho went his separate way.

You gave Mark a moment to catch a breath or two, and you slid down next to him against the practice room wall. Folding your knees up against your chest, you copied Mark’s position with his head tilted back as you both inhaled through your nostrils and breathed out through slightly parted lips. While Mark might have been trying to get a moment of rest from (no doubt) running here from the bus stop, you were trying to steady yourself.

The anxiety was starting to make your hands feel numb cold.

“You don’t have to stay, y’know,” came Mark’s voice, followed by the back of his hand gently nudging your arm. When your eyes fluttered open, you found him already looking at you. “You asked for my help; you can go take a breather outside and come back in—or maybe don’t—whatever you’re comfortable with. This can’t be easy.”

You were struggling to swallow again. One of your hands drummed messily against your kneecap. “It’s—” you shook your head, “—I’ll be okay. Thanks for coming though.”

“Yeah, dude. Of course.”

Something prodded at the side of your head, like someone was staring at you, but when you turned to see, it was just Changmin talking to Sumin. They were both smiling and making good conversation, it seemed.

You let out a sigh and closed your eyes again. Wishful thinking.

— ✶

Mark stayed behind to “vibe” with the remaining dancers still at the performing arts building while you and Sumin pushed out into the crisp, cool evening. Even after walking all the way to the bus station, your hands were still numb, and the cold definitely wasn’t helping.

“How do you feel about the dance interviews now?” You found yourself asking Sumin as the two of you sat on the bench at the station waiting for the bus to come pick the two of you up.

Sumin beamed. “I definitely feel a bit more secure about conducting them. I’ll definitely need some help with dance terminology and editing and stuff though.”

You nodded. “No problem at all.”

“The people are all really so chill and nice…” Your eyes definitely weren’t tricking you when you saw the bashfulness that her expression took on, and the little giggle you heard could not have been the wind. “Especially Changmin.”

Ha. What.

A weight fell to the pit of your stomach. Maybe you were hearing things… “Sorry?”

She blinked, and the blush on her cheekbones darkened. “Oh, haha, it’s nothing! I just… he was really sweet, and he has a really pretty smile and stuff—do you—uh, do you know if his previous dance showcase performances are online?”

(Something about that detail—he has a really pretty smile—rang a bell for you.)

It was really an innocent question, but you knew if Sumin went searching online for Changmin, and if she went deep enough, she’d find you there, too. You sucked in a breath. “I can—” you winced inwardly, “—send you some of his performances, if you want?”

You couldn’t deny the warm and fuzzy feeling in your chest when Sumin practically lit up at your suggestion. “Would you? I would really appreciate it, Yn! You’re the best.”

From your periphery, you saw the bus approach from down the street, and you gestured for the both of you to stand up and get your ID cards ready to board. You sent her a small smile—at least it felt good to help her out. You could pretend for a second that this was just a little crush or infatuation on some other colleague of yours that Sumin had. “Yeah, no worries.” No worries at all.

EPISODE SIX: OFF THE [TOP OF YOUR] HEAD

FRIDAY night brought you, Seungkwan, and Doyoung to the hotpot place located in the university district. The three of you were the unconventional combination of your friends, but Kun and Ten were supposedly on their way over as of five minutes ago. Thus, with the last of your party nearing, the three of you deigned to begin ordering almost everything off the menu—just to whet your appetites, of course.

Doyoung slumped down in his seat across from you and Seungkwan as soon as the waiter left to input your table's hefty order. "Ugggggggh."

Seungkwan snorted. "Ah, my favorite sound."

Doyoung passed him a dirty look over his lenses. "Is that sarcasm I hear, Boo Seungkwan?"

"I have no idea what you mean," he said with feigned innocence as he looked away and scratched the side of his head.

You chuckled to yourself, drawing your phone out from the inner pocket of your puffer jacket when you heard the series of buzzes. Your screen lit up with notifications from Sumin, all of them thanking you profusely for the spam of links you'd sent her way. These were on top of the videos you had dug up from your secret locked folder in your phone—and here you were, wondering why in the world you were doing this to yourself and for her?

"I can't decide if I dread Doyoung's noises of discontent or your expressions of pain more," Seungkwan commented, effectively pulling your focus away from your phone.

Both of your friends were now looking at you, patiently awaiting your answer to what ailed you tonight. Where should you begin?

"I'm not in pain," you scoffed. You set your phone facedown on the table next to you to avoid looking at the notifications. Huh. "Did I look like I was in pain?"

Doyoung's smile was wide like his eyes as he nodded. "Yup," he chirped in that sweet sarcasm of his. "Like you'd just watched a video of someone stubbing their toe against a doorframe."

Seungkwan blinked. "That's so—specific."

"You do not want to know what my For You Page looks like—"

You recreated the look of pain from earlier, holding your palm up. "Respectfully, Doie? I don't."

Seungkwan let out another snort of delight and had to hold a hand in front of his mouth.

Doyoung leveled a half-hearted scowl at you. "You're lucky I'm not your boss right now."

"As opposed to every other moment in time?"

"You have a mouth on you tonight."

"I do like to use it every so often," you quipped, the corner of your mouth lifting in an amused smirk.

Doyoung sighed, raking a hand through his hair. "I don't get paid enough for this."

"You're literally not getting paid at all—" Your words were sliced off at their end when you gasped—it was all a blur: a mass of reddish-brown hair, your phone snatched from right in front of you— "SEUNGKWAN!"

Seungkwan held his breath with an impish grin as he turned his back to you and shielded your phone from your attempts to get it back. "I just wanna see!" He said with a cackle. "Every time you've looked at your phone today, you looked like you wanted to fall into an abyss."

You glared at him, pulling away to cross your arms firmly over your chest. "You can't just steal my phone, dude!"

"What's so important on your phone anyway, Yn-ie?" Doyoung asked good naturedly, reaching for his glass of ice water. "You're usually not so attached to that thing."

Your lips snapped shut and you wondered if the heat creeping up to your face was obvious.

"You've been sending Changmin videos to Sumin?!" Seungkwan bursted out, his eyes so wide that you could see your reflection in his pupils. As you'd feared, Seungkwan still had his fingerprint registered into your phone from before (long story; don't ask), and had cracked the device open, as well as your most recently opened application—yours and Sumin's text messages.

You did nothing but stare at the table like you were getting war flashbacks, while Doyoung had even gotten up out of his seat to take a peek at your phone, too.

"I haven't even seen this video before," Seungkwan hissed as if you weren't right there.

You fixed them both with a stink eye, but at the same time, maybe this was for your benefit. They could help you without you actually asking for help—

Doyoung's face contorted into a laughable expression of shock (eyes wide, mouth wider, eyebrows pinched, nose wrinkled) as he viewed what Seungkwan had selected. "Oh my god. He's a child in this!"

"Actually he was a senior in high school—" You slapped a hand over your mouth. Whoops.

Both of their heads whipped over toward you. "I thought you deleted all your high school shit!" They chorused together. If it had been any other situation or context, you might have laughed at the hilarity if it all.

Instead, you averted your gaze, making a show of looking for the waiter or maybe even Kun or Ten. What was taking them so long anyway?

"Yn," Seungkwan addressed with a tone akin to that of a parent on the verge of lecturing their child, "what in the name of god are you sending Sumin and why?"

Helpless, you held both your palms up in a sheepish shrug. "The kid has a crush on him, and being the best mentor figure ever, I… did some compiling for her." You paused, "Now that I say it out loud, it does sound pretty stupid."

Doyoung returned to his seat. "Ya think?"

You wrinkled your nose at him. "Hey! Sometimes, some of us have bad nights and we wanna feel something." Out of context, this was a really suspicious conversation.

"Isn't this just you torturing yourself?"

Seungkwan slapped his hand against the table, and both you and Doyoung startled. "That's it! I'm calling for an intervention."

Your mouth parted open. "Right now?"

He deadpanned at you. "No, when Kun and Ten get here—of course, right now!"

You returned his deadpan expression. The adrenaline from all this back and forth was slowly fading, and what you were left with was something that felt like emptiness. So… now they knew.

Doyoung and Seungkwan exchanged looks with another from across the table, but it was the former who spoke first. "Why do you still have videos from back then, Yn-ie? I thought you told us you deleted them all?"

"I mean, we're not trying to be judgmental or anything," Seungkwan added firmly, but not unkindly, "they're your videos and photos, your past and memories, but… based on everything you've already told us before, wouldn't it be best to delete them?"

You didn't like the emptiness. The adrenaline had stripped you of energy and confidence when it faded. "I," you stammered, "I just… I couldn't bring myself to delete them." Your voice was quiet, almost inaudible compared to the liveliness of the hotpot shop around you and your friends. "I mean, how could I? Sometimes, I want to watch them and try to find the courage to say that I'm sorry first."

Yeah, you wanted to feel something. That "something" was actually a lot of things—courage, happiness, nostalgia, anger, melancholy, love, passion, pride. A life and childhood you had lost; who's fault was it but your own? You felt nothing short of pathetic.

Seungkwan frowned deeply, his eyes softening. He leaned forward and drew you into his embrace, his hold warm and comforting. "Oh, Yn. I'm sorry; I shouldn't have pried like that."

You wrapped your arms around him, eyes shuddering closed. "Yeah, you shouldn't have."

He grunted into your shoulder, a noise of defiance and attitude.

Doyoung had a similar expression of sympathy present on his face. You didn't often see something like that from him, but after years of friendship and working together, you'd begun to see a lot more of him. "I'm sorry too, Yn. It probably still hurts, and I know I was probably really insensitive when I asked you to introduce Sumin to the dance department—"

"Hey guys! Sorry we're late."

Everyone jolted at the sight of Kun and Ten arriving at your table. Kun sent Ten a sharp look along with a sharp jab with his elbow for interrupting. Kun shot you an apologetic look. "Sorry, we didn't interrupt anything, did we?"

You shook your head as Seungkwan pulled away. Doyoung and Seungkwan were both looking to you to make the decision of whether or not you would let Kun and Ten in on the prior conversation.

No, you didn't want to put a damper on dinner any longer. "Ah, no worries. We were just… discussing a couple work things. What took you guys so long?"

Luckily, no one (namely Ten) called you out and the two newcomers slid into their respective seats. Dinner would arrive soon, and you could fill your belly with something other than negative thoughts for once.

— ✶

boss bunny: hey, i didn't get a chance to say this earlier, but i'm so sorry for expecting u to introduce sumin to the dance dept

boss bunny: i didn't think at all abt how that might trigger u, and i still want u to know that u can back out whenever u feel uncomfortable. seriously.

your phone: it's okay, doyoung. i get it, i really do. and i promise that it didn't feel like u were forcing me or assuming that i would do it either

your phone: i knew it would probably trigger me like this too, but i kind of really wanted to be someone's mentor yk? it just… called to me ig

your phone: sounds kind of sad lol

boss bunny: nonono! not at all :( i understand that too

boss bunny: i admire ur strength, yn

your phone: DOIE 🥺

boss bunny: …okay love u and all, but let's not use that emoji yeah? T-T

your phone: okay wtv 🤧 now stop texting cuz ten is starting to realize ur not slick at this

boss bunny: AM TOO. >:(

— ✶

"He kept looking at his phone and then at you, like, every five seconds," Ten giggled, his shoulder absentmindedly brushing against yours as the two of you strolled side by side through the numbing cold night. Dinner had concluded just about half an hour ago, and while Kun ferried Doyoung and Seungkwan home, you and Ten decided to head down a few blocks to get milk tea and hang out.

You clapped your hands together in delight, your laughter lighting up the night. “That’s what I’m saying! He just wasn’t subtle about it and he kept arguing with me that he was.” You shook your head, tongue darting out to lick your lips, “It’s okay though. I think Dad Doyoung’s antics are charming.”

Ten grinned. “Dad Doyoung? I think he’s more of an uncle; ‘Dad’ is Kun’s title.”

“Fair enough.”

“Ayo, Ten!”

Both yours and Ten’s heads whipped upward at the sound of his name being called. You didn’t actually recognize the voice, but when you saw the lineup of four young men coming toward you from the opposite end of the street, you didn’t need to recognize it. Because, well, you recognized their faces.

Huh, you had been running into Changmin and his like a lot more often recently.

Heading straight for you was Changmin, Chanhee, Juyeon, and—you thought his name was Kevin. Kevin was the one who had called out to Ten, and he waved excitedly over to your friend. Based on Changmin’s not-so-subtle frown at Kevin, you could assume that this was not expected. Maybe he was going to advocate crossing the whole street to avoid you.

“Oh, hey Kev!” Ten greeted back cheerily, glancing at you beside him. “Do you know Kevin and Juyeon?”

You bobbed your head. “Briefly,” you replied. The two of your groups met in the middle, two blockades in the smack middle of the sidewalk. Impromptu meetups like this always seemed to end up clogging up the sidewalk for some reason.

After a swift greeting, Chanhee was already gesturing to the direction his group had already been headed in. “Hey, I’ll probably run up the street and get us a table. Haknyeonie says the tables fill up fast after eight o’clock.”

Juyeon perked up. “Oh, I’ll come with!”

Chanhee made eye contact with Changmin from across the group, and a silent form of communication passed between them. You watched this happen quietly, standing to the side with your hands tucked into your pockets while Ten and Kevin caught up from the last time they saw each other (apparently, it was a drawing and painting course from last quarter). However, instead of leaving with Chanhee and Juyeon, Changmin lingered with the three of you.

He naturally came to stand semi-close to you since he wasn’t exactly a part of the “drawing and painting” conversation. The frown from earlier had disappeared, though, and you didn’t know if you could call that a win or not.

Perhaps to you, the tension between the two of you was palpable. There were… far too many things up in the air at this moment, and it was nearly impossible for you to figure out just one thing to start with.

Plus, now was no time to get into all of that baggage. You needed to finish that intervention with Doyoung and Seungkwan before you could handle that kind of conversation—at least, that was what you would have preferred.

But for now, you found yourself clearing your throat and sparing him a glance. “Hey.”

Changmin’s eyes darted over to yours in ill-concealed surprise. “Hey.”

And that was that.

Luckily, Ten nor Kevin dragged on their conversation longer than it needed to be, and soon, you and Ten were passing by Kevin and Changmin as both parties went their separate ways. (You were going to pretend that you hadn’t looked back to watch Changmin walk away. Definitely not.)

“All good?” Ten asked, though, his voice was quieter than it had been before.

You could meet his eyes and nod. “Yeah.”

Ten followed up with an idle sort of humming noise, like he was one of those really loud computer fans (what in the world led you to think of that—?), “A few days ago, I kind of asked Changmin what the deal between the two of you was.”

“Oh?” Nervousness bubbled up the column of your throat. “What’d he say?”

He gave a shrug. “Something like a long-standing grudge.”

You let out a laugh that didn’t exactly sound like a laugh. “Well, I guess that’s one way to put it.” Was that how you would put it? In a way, that was what it was, but there was so much more to that, wasn’t there? Did Changmin think so little of what transpired between the two of you or was he just trying to deflect Ten’s interrogation?

The two of you had arrived at the tea shop by now, and Ten opened the door for you. The shop’s insides were warm and bright, and the tables were already filled up with fellow students who decided to hang out with friends on their Friday evening. You and Ten shifted over to the self-order kiosks to the side of the room and continued your conversation in low volumes.

“How would you put it then?” He asked. When you looked over at him, you realized that there was something scarily disarming about his eyes. “No pressure, of course. I mean, you can call me out on being nosy whenever; I figured it wouldn’t hurt to ask.”

You pursed your lips as you turned back to the screen to absentmindedly swipe down the page to find your preferred order. On the inside, you fought for the right words. “Changmin and I were best friends since we were kids,” you started, inputting your preferred level of sugar and ice like clockwork, “and we met through dance.”

Ten nodded to signal he was still listening, and the two of you swapped places so he could input his order.

You cracked your knuckles and rubbed your palms together to generate some kind of heat between them. “I didn’t really like dance at first. It was just one of those things my parents put me in to occupy my time after school and while they were working. But… well, you know how Changmin is with dance—it was and is his livelihood.”

“Even then?”

A nod. “Even then.”

When your orders were paid for, the two of you moved to a quiet corner of the shop to wait for your number to be called from the counter. You leaned your side against the wall next to Ten, your eyes staring blankly at a crack in the floor. “He was actually the reason I grew to love dancing,” you confessed. “As we got older and went into high school, sneaking out to practice together and performing together on stage became as easy as breathing air and as normal as…” You shook your head. “It was just a lot easier I think, back then.”

Ten tilted his chin toward you. “What happened between you two, Yn?”

You swallowed roughly. “In my first year of high school, my parents got divorced. I always suspected it would happen, but my mom kind of changed after that.” Your eyebrows crinkled as you recalled the memories of your early teenage years and tried to grapple with an adequate way to express them aloud. “And, to be fair, the more I danced, the more I didn’t want to focus on school work, but my mom became really hard on me about all that and I started to crack down on that stuff.

“Eventually, she got tired of taking me to dance practices and shows, and she blew up at me about how useless dance was going to be if I was going to become a doctor or something like that.”

Ten heard your number being called and nudged you to follow after him. He handed you your drink, and the two of you pushed back out into the chilly night. You didn’t really know where you were trying to go, but you didn’t really care. You both ended up in one of the small parking lots squeezed between two fast food restaurants, and you sat yourself down on the curb.

You continued, “And so, she would purposely forget to come home in time to take me to competitions and rehearsals. By the time I realized she wasn’t coming, I was already late every time. I would start walking myself there and taking the bus instead. Changmin started noticing that I was slacking, but I…”

“He didn’t know?”

“No.” You didn’t want him to know. Maybe it was your stupid pride that was preventing you from admitting that aloud. Maybe you were ashamed that your mom wasn't as accepting of dance as his parents were. You let out a shuddering breath and watched it come out in a visible puff in front of your face. “She made me grow spiteful toward dance,” you said stiffly. “I would be trying to stretch or practice movement in my bedroom while studying for exams, and she would come in and berate me.”

The yelling echoed in your mind, all too vividly. Your mother never physically hurt you, but there were still scars. “She’d discourage me from rehearsals or signing up for competitions by telling me I was nowhere near good enough, that dancing wasn’t going to put food on the table, and that I was—” A complete disappointment. You could pick those exact words out of a line up.

Ten’s eyes glistened with silver in the amber glow of the streetlight above you. “Jesus, Yn. I’m so sorry; that’s—that’s awful.”

You didn’t know how to accept the sympathy, even after having received so much from your other friends already. No matter how many times you retold your story, it was never quite right or in the way your brain wanted to portray it. You didn’t want to portray anyone as the villain; you figured that maybe you could have done something back then to prevent this. (You couldn’t have, actually, and that was the most difficult part to accept.)

“Yeah,” you murmured, setting your drink on the ground as you curled in on yourself slightly. “Anyway, by senior year, Changmin was obviously really into dance and was probably really stressed about auditions and end-of-the-year competitions. We basically… we basically took out our anger on each other. He said some things, I said some things. The rest is history.”

It was quiet for a moment as you let the words sink into the open air. Your chest loosened a bit after being able to tell another person about it, but for the most part, your hands still trembled. You reached for your drink again to take a sip and to force some kind of liquid down your throat.

After a while, Ten piped up, “Yn… I hope you know that you are not whoever your mother was trying to make you believe you were. You’ve probably realized that already—or maybe you’re still working on it—but please know that you’re probably one of the strongest people I know. It must have been really hard for you and I…” He exhaled, “Sorry, I’ve never been great at this.”

You sent him a small smile in return. “It’s okay; I still appreciate it.” After a beat, you added, “I know I act like I hate him, but I still want to see him succeed. I can’t think that ill of him, especially when he wasn’t the only one at fault.”

“Ah, that’s why ‘it’s complicated’, huh? I get that.”

“Yeah.” Your hands—god, if they could just stop shaking—

Ten reached over and covered your hands with one of his, and you let the heat of his palm warm yours. “You’re doing great, Yn. You know that, right?”

You couldn’t choke out an answer to that. You could only really say, “I just miss him sometimes.”

A sad smile. “I know. Maybe he does, too.”

You wanted to laugh, or maybe cry, at that. Anyone who got in the way of Changmin’s passions was no one to him. You would know exactly how that felt.

EPISODE SEVEN: [ROLLS RIGHT] OFF THE TONGUE

WHENEVER Changmin was feeling unsure of himself, he would retreat to his safe space: the practice rooms. Even if it was some time in the ungodly morning, like 2am as it was now, he would make the trek beneath molten gold streetlights and barren cobbled streets. It was the one place where he could focus his energy solely on dance, and forget about everything else.

Once upon a time, it had been your safe space just as much as it was his.

Changmin huffed a sigh as he hiked up the remaining flight of stone stairs that led up to the backdoor area of the performing arts building. It was a handful of hours since he and Chanhee parted ways with Kevin and Juyeon after enjoying dinner together. Chanhee was probably dead asleep by now—he was probably going to wake up and continue studying for his exams anyway.

As he turned to his right, his breath hitched as he caught sight of someone standing right outside the door. Usually, he had no trouble getting in and security wasn’t exactly strict in this area of campus. In fact, he almost never bumped into anyone, as strange as it sounded. Maybe he should have counted his blessings.

But then he recognized your jacket from earlier this evening, the very same one you were wearing while walking next to Ten—practically squished up against each other, two peas in a pod. He didn’t like how irked he was by that detail. He still couldn’t wrap his head around the fact that you had said “hey” first.

You weren’t looking at him, rather, your body was completely turned toward the door as if you were trying to decide whether or not you should go in. You were as still as a statue, frozen in time.

The moment, however, faded as quickly as it had come. You must have sensed his presence, and your head whipped around to face him.

There.

His heart leapt into his throat—dear god, why did you look so afraid? And then he noticed that you weren’t frozen still, but rather, channeling all your energy into keeping your body from trembling. Were you cold? What were you doing here so late? Why weren’t you with Ten?

He watched your throat move as you gulped. And then you were walking toward him—no, past him—wait, come back— “So that’s it?”

The grip he had on his duffle bag strap tightened when you stopped next to him just as you were going to walk past him toward the stairs. Your gazes clashed like a pair of twin lightning bolts slicing through the night sky. There had always been a sort of energy between the two of you, and when you were young, he had been so very attracted to that kind of power, one so similar to his… he didn’t think he was mistaken back then.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” You said, still there. Your voice was low, but he could detect the edge.

He didn’t know what it was supposed to mean; he just didn’t want you to leave without knowing why you were here. Were you looking for him? “You’re not gonna say anything to me? Why are you here?”

(He swore it wasn’t supposed to come out that brusque-sounding, but he also didn’t know what it was supposed to come out sounding like…? He felt like he didn’t know you anymore.)

There was a narrowing of your eyes, and you both angled your bodies to face one another like a standoff. “No one said I had anything to say to you. And I—” You tripped over your words, “—I don’t know why I’m here. That’s why I was leaving.”

Oh.

Why was he disappointed by that answer?

“So you’re not here with Ten or something?” He asked, unsure what else he could say to keep you here, even for just a couple seconds longer.

Your mouth curled. "Clearly not. Why are you so pressed about me and Ten?"

Changmin pressed his lips together. "I'm not." Okay. Very believable.

The face you made said the same thing. "Okay, yeah. I didn't expect you to care so much anyway."

For a reason he loathed to admit, anger spiked in his blood and he felt the distinct need to defend himself. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"I don't know," you replied sarcastically, your volume rising, "maybe it's that you've never really cared that much about things that concerned me in the first place?"

"Now that's rich coming from you."

Your glare pierced his. "Oh, please. As soon as I started slacking—god, it took so little for you to just abandon me."

His jaw fell slack. Where the fuck did this conversation just turn to? "Abandon you? You abandoned me!" He exclaimed, finger flicking between the two of you as if he could impale both of your chests with the sharp edge of his accusations.

"How could I have possibly been the one to abandon you?" Your face contorted with so much more emotion than Changmin had ever seen from you over the past three years. Suddenly, he could see the underlying desperation and devastation hidden beneath the lines of bitterness and anger. His heart sank, but his blood still boiled and pumped. He couldn't get the distinctly awful hole in his chest to stop aching. He could remember exactly when you just stopped coming to practice with him. He could remember exactly the day he gave up hope.

"You—" you stammered, your hand flying to your throat. It was the same action he had seen from you just a few days ago while you were in the practice room. He recognized it as a habit of yours for when you were anxious or overwhelmed because your throat closed in on itself. If that wasn't enough to make him want to lay down his sword… "—you stopped caring. When did you stop caring? I just want to know."

Everything went silent for him, just for a split second. You thought… you thought he stopped caring? How could he ever stop caring about you? Wasn't that why he was so upset in the first place?

And when the world zapped back into play, he was sure his skin was ashen. His throat bobbed. "How could you think so little of me?"

Your forehead creased. "Little? Changmin, you were everything to me."

Dear heart—

You were shaking your head and taking a step away from him then. "You couldn't possibly understand."

Just like that, there was fire in his veins again. "That's because you never gave me a chance to understand!"

You threw a look back at him and again, he could read everything there like an open book, so much unlike the wall he had been met with all this time. "And I can say the exact same thing about you. If you think I kept things from you, Ji Changmin—" you said with the undertone of a snarl, so fierce that, as you turned on your foot to face him again, your breath came out like that of a dragon's smoke, "—then how much have you kept from me?"

His nostrils flared and his hands gestured wildly, vaguely—he pressed his palms to his eyes with a haggard sigh. "Why are you here, Yn?" He asked again, finally. He lowered his hands and took a step toward you. "Are you here just to pick a fight with me?"

You paused.

He watched you open your mouth, then close it.

You pursed your lips, finally murmuring, "No. I didn't come here for you."

For some reason, that hurt even more.

— ✶

The practice room was colder than it usually was.

Changmin kept the lights dim for the sake of his stinging eyes, and he dumped his duffle bag in the corner of the room before making a beeline for the aux cord for the speaker system. He hooked up his phone and opened up his music files, his forehead pressing against the cool mirror wall.

For a moment, he simply let his eyes flutter shut and his lungs to breathe.

You were long gone by now, and Changmin considered just going back to his apartment, but he knew he would just lie in bed awake for hours if he did.

When he opened his eyes, he swiped out of his music and instead went to a file kept deep down in the depths of his storage. He had purposely named it so it would remain at the absolute bottom of the list when alphabetized, and the pass code on it was supposed to dissuade him from accessing it.

Supposed to.

He punched in the four digits of your birthday and the lock clicked open to reveal a hefty file of video after video. There were photos of you, too, somewhere, but the videos were all at the top of the file because of their size. He didn't know what he was gonna do when his phone ran out of storage; he figured that when that day came, it would either be when you and he finally figured shit out, or he got closure and could delete them all.

He sighed.

His thumb hovered over one of the video files near the top, one where he could see your face in the thumbnail.

When he opened it, his younger face filled the screen. His tongue poked out from his lips as he carefully settled his phone against the wall next to yours as both of your phones recorded the run-through that was about to happen.

"Changminnie! Come on, I'm starting the song!" Your voice echoed against the practice room walls, and his laughter soon followed as he scurried into place next to you.

Changmin watched his younger self transform his expression into something more serious, while you had looked at him through the mirror and burst out laughing.

Younger Changmin broke his facade, the dimples in his cheeks deep, his smile bright. "What?"

You grinned back at him. "Sorry, sorry! Nothing; it's just interesting how you can just shift your facial expression like that."

"You have to practice like you perform though!"

"I know, I know. I just like your smile better, y'know?"

Changmin could see the hearts in his younger self's eyes. Jesus, had he really blushed that hard? Younger Changmin cupped the back of his neck bashfully. "Really?"

You punched his arm playfully. "Yeah. It's really pretty, Changmin. I thought I told you this before."

"Well yeah, but it doesn't hurt to hear it again—yah! Hey, I can bite back, you know—!"

Changmin's eyes shuddered as the familiar melody of the song flowed into his ears. He abruptly slammed his thumb down onto the pause button.

No, he couldn't stomach hearing it. Not when he could recall every move from memory and not when he had no partner to complement those moves. It just reminded him of the gaping hole in his chest and the emptiness of this room.

"Let's get to work, Changmin," he muttered to himself as he swiped out of the folder and back to his music files. He had an actual to-do list in mind, after all, and it did not include a dive into the forbidden folder. (No matter how much he needed to hear your voice again, for once, not arguing with him.)

EPISODE EIGHT: OFF THE HOOK

"HE'S been pissy all morning—"

Changmin suppressed a groan of frustration as he heard his friend's voices nearing the dressing room he was in. All morning, the performing arts building had been a madhouse, even worse than the night of the draft showcase. Everyone just decided to be here today, whether they were his fellow dancers trying to score a practice room, one of the prospective actors auditioning for a part in Hyunjae's best friend's thesis play, or one of the tech members trying to make sure everything worked behind the scenes.

Changmin had gone from room to room in an attempt to find an empty one where he could have some peace in working on his own. He would have just gone home at this point, but Chanhee was stressing over his own exams, so Changmin was stuck here.

So taking all of that into account, including the rough encounter he'd had with you a couple days ago, plus a lack of sleep and coffee—not the happiest squirrel on campus.

(How could you just drop a bomb like "You were everything to me, Changmin" in his lap and expect him not to think of anything else for days on end?)

The door to the dressing room he was hiding in cracked open, and all of the cacophony from the outside flooded in, as well as a crush of his friends.

"Don't you guys have class?" Changmin moaned, his hand coming up to rub his sleep-deprived eyes.

"Well, yeah, but this is much more fun," came Younghoon's teasing chuckle as he walked over to Changmin and clasped a hand on his shoulder.

Changmin made a face. "I just wanted some peace and quiet."

Sunwoo scoffed. "Peace and quiet? You've come to the wrong place, hyung."

"Yeah," Hyunjae added on, "might as well take a break for once and come watch auditions with us! HJ!Yn needs help judging people anyway."

Changmin cocked a brow at the blond. "You should call Chanhee for that then. Shouldn't you be out there, Younghoon?" He nodded toward the tall, lanky drama major present.

Younghoon shook his head, bouncing on the balls of his feet. How did he have so much energy? "Nope. I'm auditioning for a part, so she's gatekeeping me from watching."

Changmin turned from his friends slightly as he reached down for his phone that he had situated on top of the small bluetooth speaker he had the good sense to bring. Then again, maybe he should have just stuck to earbuds… whatever. He was too tired to care. Part of him wanted to add to the chaos anyway.

"What's her thesis play about again?" He asked no one in particular. Sunwoo waddled over to him and stole his phone right from his hands and began browsing through the music selection.

"It's a modern take of one of Shakespeare's plays: Much Ado About Nothing," answered Younghoon. "It was really funny actually, like the original play. Lots of matchmaking, lots of stupidity. I think they dump someone in a lake..."

Hyunjae perked up. "Oh yeah! That was probably my favorite part of the whole script."

Changmin chuckled. "I was expecting you to say something like 'the whole thing's my favorite because my best friend wrote it'."

"Oh, no, that still applies."

Changmin, Sunwoo, and Younghoon all exchanged knowing looks with one another. Mhm… so they thought. There were a few too many in their friend group who had interesting relationships with their other friends. Exhibit A: whatever the fuck was happening with Hyunjae and his.

Hyunjae caught their silent communication and furrowed his eyebrows. "What?"

Sunwoo snorted, but Younghoon was the one to drawl, "It's absolutely nothing."

Changmin pressed his lips into a cheeky smile, brushing the bangs from out of his vision. Hyunjae's lips quirked to the side in a frown, but didn't make any comment on it. It wasn't a new reaction from the group, by any means, but… oh well. That would be a tale for another time.

With that being said, Changmin followed the three of them out of the relative privacy of the dressing room and out into the hustle-bustle of the main backstage corridor. As soon as that dressing room was vacated, however, somebody was swift to occupy it. Changmin cursed inwardly; guess he wouldn't be able to come back to that room later.

With the switching of theater leadership over the past year (a changing of the guard, if you would, but with professors and sponsors), the management of the entire performing arts department was a mess and a half. There were a few stand-out graduate students and undergraduates who were keeping everything in check for all of the events happening over this year—like Hyunjae’s best friend, Lee Jihoon (a graduate student specializing in sound and music production), and Moon Taeil (a graduate who was a soloist in the chamber choir).

As the four young men made their way closer to the immediate backstage, the sound miraculously dulled down. The lights were a lot dimmer here, as the spotlights were turned toward the main stage. Changmin spotted a few people scattered throughout the backstage area with phones or folded script packets in their hands as they recited their lines to themselves, with some even making exaggerated facial expressions and grand hand gestures.

Hyunjae’s best friend was one of the up and coming director-screenwriter “prodigies” that the drama department championed. She was a year older than Changmin was, and he didn’t need to be a genius to know that there were a crowd of people vying for a role in her graduating thesis play. It must have been stressful as fuck, but he knew that she had a good head on her shoulders—

“—I’m gonna stop you right there.”

HJ!Yn’s voice resounded from the other side of the hefty velvet curtains separating the backstage from the main stage. Hyunjae made a show of pressing his index finger to his lips to signal his friends to be quiet—Sunwoo thus made a show of rolling his eyes (“Duh, we’re gonna be quiet.”). They all huddled to the side of the curtain and poked their heads out to see what was going on.

The university performing arts hall was likely one of the most magnificent places on campus. It featured a vast array of floor seating, while also boasting three levels of balcony seats. Changmin remembered once briefly learning the anatomy of the theater seating: the floor or nosebleeds, the slightly lofted box seats, the grand circle, loge circle, and upper circle—the gods. It was all very antiquarian, but it was a place Changmin had become quite familiar with over the years.

The director herself sat in the dimmed nosebleeds section, in the smack middle. Someone had dragged out one of those plastic, foldable tables for her to set her paperwork and a small, battery-operated lamp on top of.

Curiously, sitting next to her was none other than Bae Sumin, your new recruit.

Changmin straightened, accidentally bumping into Younghoon’s shoulder as he did. “Sorry,” he whispered.

Younghoon shook his head to say that it was all good, his hand lifted in acknowledgement.

“Did you know Sumin was here?” He asked his friend.

Younghoon’s expression was thoughtful. “I think so? I left to go find you when I thought I heard someone say they saw her come in. Why? Did she not tell you when the dance department interviews were gonna be held?”

Changmin recalled receiving no notice. “No. I—I figured Yn would be here, too, then. Right?” Was he ready to face you again so soon? Would you even acknowledge him this time—?

Younghoon passed him an amused glance with a small smile fitted over his face. “That would make sense,” he murmured with his arms crossed over his chest. One of his hands reached up to idly massage his jaw. “I’d imagine she would be with her friends, somewhere around here. Though, it would also make sense that she would be sitting with Sumin, too. Then again—”

“You are… no help,” Changmin deadpanned.

His friend chuckled lowly, eyes upturned into slim crescents.

“Uh Jihoon-ah?”

Changmin and Younghoon’s attention flitted over towards the far side of the backstage and they watched as a girl chased after the resident sound producer graduate student. He was, perhaps, smaller than one might anticipate from the intimidating man, but he still harbored so much scary energy and talent within his body. Like all of the staff on the technical team, the pair were clad in all black.

Jihoon glanced up from his clipboard and at the girl. “Hm?”

The girl nodded toward the curtains. “Director is calling for a break and is asking if the house lights can be turned on.”

“Ah okay, come on then. Follow me.”

As the two of them strode across the length of the backstage, the girl’s eyes found Changmin and Younghoon, and… She was looking past him now at someone else. She lifted her hand in a small wave, paired with a smile, “Hi, Sunwoo.”

Changmin whipped his head around, only to realize that Hyunjae had disappeared, but Sunwoo was now standing on Changmin’s other side. He watched in utter delight as his younger friend flushed, even in the dim lighting, at the girl’s greeting. His eyes were wide as he squeaked out a quick, “Hey!” in return.

When Jihoon and his charge had gone out of view, Changmin turned on Sunwoo with a hyena cackle. “Oh my god! Who was that, Kim Sunwoo?”

Sunwoo seemed to shrink into the collar of his hoodie. “No one.”

Changmin’s laughter lit up the room just as the house lights thunk-thunk-thunk’d to life. Younghoon had slipped away, most likely to meet Hyunjae in the nosebleeds, which left only the two of them there alone. “Do you have a crush on her?”

“Yah! You’re such a menace,” Sunwoo groaned, whacking Changmin with the extra length of his sweater paw. “You can’t even talk, dude! You’re in love with a girl who can barely stand to be in the same room—” Sunwoo realized his slip up and slapped a palm over his mouth.

Ouch. The truth hurt, didn’t it? Changmin chuckled, though it was noticeably quieter now. “Well, you’re not wrong—” He shook his head, eyebrows creased together, “—wait, no. Wait, I’m not in love with her!”

Sunwoo rolled his eyes so hard he must have seen his brain up there. “Oh, please. The last time you were drunk and emotional, you showed us that secret little folder in your phone.” He jabbed his finger accusingly at the phone in Changmin’s hand.

Changmin scowled, pressing his phone to his chest as if to protect it in case Sunwoo decided to have wandering hands. “That was told to you in confidence!”

“No, it was told to me in a drunken stupor—” The two of them began to make their way back toward the edge of the curtain, ducking out from its shadow and onto the main stage. Hyunjae and Younghoon were indeed in the nosebleeds now, but Sumin was nowhere to be seen. Maybe she had only been here to observe the audition process. “And you guys say I’m the lightweight.”

“That’s because you are the lightweight.”

Just as the two of them hopped down from the stage and onto the ground floor of seats, Juyeon came in from the doors located at the back of the seats. He raised a hand in greeting to all present, cheerfully waving with that golden retriever-esque grin. “Hey guys! Oh, Changminnie, I was just looking for you.”

Changmin’s eyebrows flew up. “Oh? What’s up, Juyeon?”

Sunwoo retreated into the rows up where Hyunjae and Younghoon were, while Changmin met up with Juyeon in the rightmost aisle.

Juyeon threw a thumb behind him toward the direction he had just come from. “Sumin was asking if you would be willing to do your interview right now.”

His eyes widened slightly. “Right now?”

“That’s what I just said, wasn’t it?”

Changmin pressed his lips together, before nodding. “Uh, for sure. Yeah, lead the way.”

The two dancers hiked their way back up to the back of the area and through the door Juyeon had originally entered through. The main lobby was much less crowded—it was practically barren, which made it the perfect environment to conduct an interview in. Sumin was setting herself up at one of the couches, setting her laptop, phone, and coffee cup on the coffee table opposite to her.

She raised her head when she heard the door open and close, and a bright smile graced her features. “Oh, you found him! Thanks, Juyeonie.”

“Yeah, no problem,” he chirped. “I’ve got a couple things to handle first, but just ask someone to come find me once you and Changmin are done.”

With Juyeon swiftly taking his leave, Changmin was left to take a seat on the other end of the couch that Sumin was sitting at. “Hey, nice to see you again, Sumin,” he said, crossing one ankle over the other and resting his arm along the back of the couch.

The corners of her smile widened. “Nice to see you, too, Changmin! Sorry this was so sudden; I figured that I could get started on some of the interviews while I was here.”

“Oh, yeah, no worries,” he chuckled.

She reached for her phone, fidgeting as she swiped to a simple recording application. “I hope you don’t mind me recording this…?” At his consent, she nodded. “Okay, cool. I did wanna say something before we started.”

He sat up just a bit. “What is it?”

There was a sort of twinkle in her eyes, and if he wasn’t mistaken, her manner became a lot more bashful all of a sudden. “I have to confess that I asked my mentor, Yn, if she could send me some of your dance performance videos and I’m literally in awe of your talent. Like, I wanted to tell you how starstruck I am just being able to tell you this right now, but I just wanted to say this before we started.”

He broke into a boyish grin at this, his dimples becoming craters of joy in the apples of his cheeks. “Ah, thank you—that really means a lot,” he smiled.

Sumin added on, one of her palms pressing against the couch cushion as she leaned toward him slightly, “I mean, I don’t even know how Yn was able to find videos of you from high school, but I’m so glad she did, because—”

Wait what. Changmin was watching Sumin’s mouth move as she talked but he wasn’t truly hearing what she said. His humble, albeit a bit dumbfounded, smile remained, but her words from just before resonated in his head. There were definitely a few of his dance performance videos online from his high school days, but did you keep links to them? Did you keep the recordings on your phone?

The fact that Sumin asked you meant that she probably had no clue about your past, only that you were the person Sumin could rely on if she had any questions.

What did it mean? What did it mean?

His heart pounded in his chest at the thought that maybe he could possibly have an excuse to get you to talk to him, even if it was one, truly dumbass excuse.

“—ready?”

Changmin snapped out of his dazed state. “Sorry?”

Sumin blushed slightly, clearing her throat. At some point, she had pulled her laptop onto her lap and prepped her phone by placing it in between the two of them to record the following conversation. “Are you ready to start?”

He coughed, straightening and adjusting his position. “Oh, yeah—uh, sorry. Yeah, whenever you’re ready.”

Sumin gauged his reaction carefully, but instead of pressing the record button, she hit the power button. “If I may, you seem a little distracted. I don’t really want this to feel like a burden if you’ve got a lot on your plate.”

Shit. “No, I mean,” he shook his head, “I’m sorry. I guess my mind just wanders really easily when…” He huffed a sigh, dragging a hand down his face. “I’m a little tired, that’s all.”

“I totally get that,” she sympathized. “You’ve probably been practicing non-stop lately for the winter showcase. We don’t have to do this today if you’re not in the right headspace.”

He sighed and couldn’t help but feel just a little relieved. He needed to talk to Chanhee about this, math exam or dance practice be damned. But there was a part of him that definitely felt awful about having to cut off her interview even before it began. He gestured to her phone. “How about we reschedule? We could meet up sometime else during the week to redo this and I promise I’ll be all yours.”

He didn’t know what he did, but the pink on her cheeks deepened to a cherry red. “Oh, uh, sure!” She giggled, taking her phone and passing it over to him. “You can just put your phone number in there and I’ll text you to ask when you wanna meet up.”

Changmin nodded his agreement and swiftly inputted his contact information into the given slots. “Definitely,” he said before handing her phone back to her. The phone fumbled between the two of them, but Changmin was already standing up with the goal to go retrieve his bag (wherever it was), and to go consult Chanhee and the man’s infinitesimal opinions. “Really sorry again, Sumin.”

“Yeah, don’t worry about it!” She dismissed his worries with a flick of her wrist. “Would you mind finding Juyeon, though?”

Changmin sent her a thumb’s up over his shoulder on his way to the door. “Yeah, for sure.”

She returned the gesture, watching as he disappeared out of the main lobby. It was only when he was definitely gone, she covered her mouth with her hand and stared at his saved contact in her phone. Then, with a silent scream of happiness, she ran to her text chain with you to tell you all about it.

a/n: PLS STILL REBLOG THIS PART EVEN THO ITS NOT THE FULL THING PLS PLS PLS IM BEGGING

read part two here (also linked at top)

permanent taglist: @honeyhuii @crazywittysassy @seomisaho @stopeatread @enhacolor @rnjfy @jaehunnyy @kpopjackie @spiderrenjunfics @soobin-chois @ethereal-engene @mingiholic @ja4hyvn @vatterie @yogurteume @justalildumpling @hyunjaespresent-deobi @hongyangi @pxppxrminty @nerdypastacalzonespy @jcmdoll @kflixnet

taglist: @oi-miya @loveliestfelix @sickvision @jaerisdiction @stealanity @magnificentjudementmoneyhands @inthesunnn @igotkpoopsss @letsnotdoanything @starryjww @sodafy @rreneeeeee @dajanxekiwi @sseastar-main @jenowithjaem @moonyswolf @sleepymoon27 @floatingpluto @fictionlover100 @winterchimez @softie00 @sseuyeon @qkyuscult @hwanunjin @zlebooks @mcu-incorrect @nctzennikki09 @hrt4cheol @moontyuns @quill-ink

[missmielyhoran]

Second

in which you always stayed being second...

[Warning- ANGST, Unrequited love, unplanned pregnancy, cheating?, jealousy, death, accident, Harry giving his kid daddy issues, accident, heart attack]

Masterlist

*****

You were 19 when you met Harry.

He was bright, beautiful, and soft like a cloud. He was always high up in the air, so beautiful to see but soo far to touch.

Everyone wished to touch the clouds, and only some could do it.

You met her when you were 20.

At a college party, Harry introduced her to you. She was beautiful, smart, and elegant just like him.

People like her were meant to touch the cloud.

And she did. Much to your dismay, you watched them flirt, kiss, and do all those adorable bullshit rom coms show. While you watched, waiting for a drop of his attention.

Which he gave you but after she would leave.

They got together when you were 21.

You cried yourself sick for a week, but no one bothered to check cause the two people you had were loved up in their love cocoon.

It wasn't until she had to go back home for some family emergency that Harry realized he hadn't seen you for a week. When he asked, you just put on a smile and told him it was a flu, which he knew wasn't true, somewhere he knew why you were sick but didn't press on cause she was texting him.

But the honeymoon period came to an end soon after, and it followed fights, lots of fights, and arguments.

Every time they would break up, you would find him at your doorstep. It was wrong, so wrong, but you couldn't resist when his lips would find yours. When his hands would roam on your body, when he would whisper sweetly in your ears, when you would hear his soft snors beside you in bed as you would run your fingers through his hair.

As good it would feel in the night, mornings were just as hard cause every time one of them would apologize and they would get back together.

What could a bouquet of flowers and apologizes couldn't fix?

The cycle went on and on until you also found someone.

He was sweet, not him but sweet.

And he was only yours.

But fate was never in your favor. He wanted to study abroad, and long distance was not in books for either of you.

You were 24 when she got into accident.

It was a drunk driving case. The driver got off with a fine while she fought for her life for a whole 48 hours before losing.

It was hard for both of you. You were jealous of her, but you also loved her. She was your friend, but nothing could compare to Harry's devastation.

You were 25 when he finally came to you.

"After her, you are my only one. You are the only person I love after her," He said. It should have made you happy and some part of you was but the other sticked to the key word after her.

Even dead, she was first.

But you settled for being his even if it was secondary.

You were 26 when you got pregnant.

It was accidental. Both of you didn't plan it cause you didn't even know what your relationship with him was. He loved you but he wasn't your boyfriend or anything.

You were scared for yourself, yet you went to him asking if he wanted it or not. Some part of you hoped he didn't cause you wouldn't, but of course, he wanted it. It was so long after her that you saw him genuinely happy.

You were 27 when your baby girl arrived.

She was beautiful, with his green big eyes and blonde hair which neither of knew where it came from but he said it was from her. "She knew I was lonely, so she said an angel like her"

He named your daughter after her.

Every time you would call your daughter, there was a painful realization of him loving you second, which might have been third or forth after the kids.

You were 29 when he proposed.

With her ring.

It was supposed to be for her, but it ended on your finger, and every time you looked down at your hands, there would be that pain again of you being the second.

Was it wrong to be jealous of dead?

Was it wrong to hate someone who never meant to cause you pain, but was the reason for it always?

You were 31 when you got pregnant again.

He was happy but not much cause he had your daughter.

You had your baby boy, but in Harry's books, your daughter stayed first.

As he grew up, you could see how much it affected your son. How he would hesitate to ask Harry for anything or how he would be jealous of his sister or how he would avoid either of you all together.

You wanted to talk to him, tell him that you were there for him and you to some extent you did but you couldn't take a dad's place.

He would see how Harry wouldn't bat and eye if your daughter would do something, but he would get the punishment for being simply late from school.

Now your son and you both came after her.

You were 49 when your son stopped talking to both of you after moving out.

It hurt it shattered your soul, but you didn't do anything.

Like a coward, you were for the whole life. You just sat here mute and stayed second whole life, getting secondary gifts, kisses, love, and even wedding ring.

You could never be his first, and you lived with that.

You were 62 when you died.

It was abrupt, a heart attack paramedics said.

He begged you not to leave him, how he couldn't live if you also left him after her but it was too late.

He would get flowers every Wednesday and Saturday to the graveyard for you but not before leaving one on her.

Even cold in your grave, you were second to her.

*****

Taglist- @tenaciousperfectionunknown @that-daydream-look @harryspirate @tiaamberxx @jvsgnjrtpdar5stkd-tv-m @sunshinemoonsposts

I'm sorry for this, I'm just really sad today:(

[pentition]

As usual, SPOILERS AHEAD.

Been thinking about some things as I lurk on the My Time/Sandrock Discords and subreddits. It's a blast seeing other Pen fans out in the wild. Actually, it's super comforting. I'm so used to liking niche titles or characters that don't get the love or introspection they deserve, regardless of where they fall on the morality spectrum.

I'm usually lurking. Liking comments or posts because I'm a shy creature on the social front, mixed with low energy all around. But one thing I always appreciate is seeing peoples perspectives and taking time to consider them. It doesn't matter how much or how little I agree/disagree - in the end, my brain incorporates what it views as right. And what it disagrees with, I further want to know about - but also won't be bothered if ideas I have don't match others. Echo chambers are boring. I want to see people take ideas that don't match mine and see if they make them work.

That all being said, I've had something on my mind regarding Pen for a number of weeks now. Between Reddit and Discord, there have been such interesting perspectives on people who want Pen to come back but then get split on him being romanceable in the future.

I've expressed in previous musings on here that I think the Sandrock Builder and Pen's history is something I love, and it wouldn't be the same with another character. But I also kind of failed to elaborate on that. After having some cool exchanges and hearing perspectives from various sides, I think I've settled more on where I am. Not that it matters to anyone but me, but it's a fun thought exercise to write out in regards to Pen's character.

I still believe Pen and the Sandrock Builder's relationship is like, my golden child for three main reasons:

1.) It has conflicting emotions both positive and negative. You get a full range of emotions. It's vague enough to allow people to speculate which also giving enough for people to know there was something serious there. I say serious because even if it was a ruse, it meant something to Pen based on how farewell and what he left behind if you romanced him. While I believe in the symbolism of what was left behind in the chest, I'm also try to take into account on the what-if that it doesn't matter to the devs the way it matters to us.

2.) Imagination is important. When you have a character like Pen, who is so himself but still shrouded in mystery, your mind tries to fill in the blanks and make sense of things. There's what we get, what we perceive and what is mixed up in the middle. Whether it's making things more toxic to making them more sincere, there's so much possibility with a character like Pen. It's appealing and an endless chew toy for my brain.

3.) The potential. This mixes the prior two. But it really comes down to it, the history they have and that potential of what could be is why I adore them. All relationships will encounter bad periods, it's what you do during those bad periods that define the outcome. Potential is always a defining aspect in anything, it's not something that has a moral compass - it just is what it is. Which means it's versatile. Potential is important to me, personally, so when I see a character like Pen who has so much of it... it's hard not to pay attention. And in instances like this where so much plot can exist, it's hard not to get invested.

Because I am not a big brain person and sleep deprived, here's the sentence that shittily segways into the next talking point that'll eventually circle back on the prior.

The diamond ring. What if it wasn't for the Sandrock Builder, but for whatever Builder (or other role) the player will have in a future game? Maybe the reason it dropped for everyone (and not a bug) was a two-fold reason. If the Sandrock Builder romanced Pen, it could be intended for them. If they didn't romance Pen, maybe it was a set up for a future game where Pen is romanceable again.

So, future romance possibilities with Pen. That's the talking point here. I said that the Sandrock Builder and Pen are my ideal because of the reasons above. Interesting history, imaginative with its positives and negatives, so much potential. Of course, I can only be biased because I don't know and haven't yet experienced the possibility of what it's like for Pen to be with another player character.

That being said, and despite my preference, I'd still be okay if Pathea had Pen in a future installment as a romanceable character for another character. Characters should be allowed to develop as characters that don't hinge on the player. And given people don't always play the games in order, it would be kind of sucky/selfish to deprive anyone of a Pentacular (sobad) romance route.

I've run a character and story editor job online since I was fifteen, I've done a lot of work in this area with clients and with my own work. And I've also been a DM/GM for about ten to fifteen years now. If there's one thing I've learned, it's that characters aren't great because of the writers - but because of who they are and can become as characters themselves. Just look at the differences between the Chinese and English versions of Pen. Yet despite the differences all Pen fans have found that same foundation that breaches language barriers and different writing directions. That is incredible core character foundation and it's that potential that has made me so invested in his character.

My ideal is probably so dumb sounding of a compromise. But it would be cool to reintroduce Pen in a future game with a romance rival option like Portia had. As in, if you want to romance Pen then you can. But if you don't, he automatically will seek out the Sandrock Builder. I don't mean up and leave asap, but whenever he is done having a role in that game he'd head out to find them. If Evershine is going to allow the Sandrock Builder to possibly appear, then why not do the same there? Only problem is it would be tricky to do a reunion that way when people have different perspectives of how it would go. Especially depending on how long it has been. It's easy to say, 'just let the player take control!' but the thing is, if players haven't played the previous games before (as in, they are a new player to the series) it wouldn't at all make any sense to do.

And selfishly, I'd totally want to have a game right after that returns to the Sandrock Builder for a Pen return. But then, that's only based on if the Builder was close or romanced Pen. For people who didn't care or go that route, it also wouldn't make sense to do.

So for a Pen and Sandrock Builder reunion that matters, we'd have to play as that Builder again in a future game. Maybe that means the Builder has to leave Sandrock for whatever reason. But it would have to be a reason that makes sense for people who didn't romance or care about Pen, too. It's all just tricky.

Which is why I thought a lot about a Pen romance without the Sandrock Builder. Of course there's potential there. It's not the same, as much as I'd love to explore my duo having a reunion. But it's not terrible either, to me, at least. In any case, Pen needs some time to figure his shit out as a person. If that means he grows and lets go of the past romance, that's okay. If it means he wants to try and see if he can salvage things after his betrayal, that's also okay. I just hope the devs come around to taking their audience seriously, because so far their players that like other characters (like Miguel, Burgess, even Ernest or Venti) aren't treated very respectfully for the characters they/their builder likes.

This is mostly be just airing out thoughts in my head since I wasn't too happy that a prior post or two didn't elaborate that I'd be okay if Pen moved on - even if I really want to see things work out between him and the Sandrock Builder. Both have strong narrative possibilities, but I like the ups and downs of the latter and the potential of it more at this time. Maybe that'll change in the future, whenever that game comes out. Who knows. ^^

[h8ani]

Truth or Dare

Part One Here

Pairing: Shikamaru Nara x Reader

Anime: Naruto

Word Count: 2.3k

Synopsis: the events that led to asking your ex boyfriend a simple question from truth or dare

Warnings: Sappy fluffy ass smut, cursing, I’m gonna say the smut is lowkey trash so that’s a warning in itself, I am not good at writing fluff so there’s another warning in itself 😭

A/N - here’s Pt 2! I am not really good at writing fluffy stuff so I tried the best I could 😭 feel free to give your thoughts and opinions!

Shikamaru is a jackass.

That's it, that's the sentence. Point blank period.

Shikamaru couldn't have been further than the boy who you fell in love with. He was cocky, tried showing out whenever you were around now, cracked jokes. He didn't used to be like that, like someone who wanted attention. You liked his laid back attitude, how he always went with the flow, how he didn't care about anything. He didn't care about anything but you at one point in time, but that's in the past now. Now Shikamaru is someone you don't even recognize.

Shikamaru loved you, that you know. You used to love him too, you still do and a part of you knows you always will. He was your everything and you were his, the two of you were always seen attached to the hip in your early days of dating, and even when you were apart the other wasn't too far away.

Everyone used to joke about how you and Shikamaru were together since you both were in the academy, always laughing when you two finally hit your three year anniversary saying that it was much longer than that. You liked him long before he liked you and you being way more pushy about it as a 12 year old girl. Remember the saying about if a boy picks on you then he likes you? That was definitely you to Shikamaru and frankly he thought you were almost as annoying as Naruto was back in the academy. Keyword is almost. He swears up and down if you weren't so cute he would've shadow possessed you off a cliff on graduation day. How you were able to have him fall for you let alone get him to like you back is still a question you always asked yourself and him, even he could never give you a straight answer but you never really cared that much for one. You loved him with everything in your being, you'd jump in front of him any day of the week if it meant he'd stay out of harms way, he felt the same for you which makes everything about the breakup so much more painful to think back on.

You'd be lying if the breakup didn't come as a shock, you felt blindsided. It wasn't too long after your anniversary when he ended things. 16 days after your anniversary but who's keeping track of that? He didn't, you know he didn't. You're still bitter about it, about how abruptly he ended things and walked away like you weren't just planning on moving in with him, like you both didn't have countless talks about your future together, even the late night talks about what your kids would look like and how you two would raise them. All of that must have slipped his mind or he was just talking to talk and never meant any of it at all.

Your feelings and how it's still affecting you is evidence that you loved him and how much you truly did. The bond you had with him hurt too much to break but he did it anyway. You didn't leave your apartment for almost a month having Kakashi push back any missions for you for the time being, Shikamaru went on a mission the very next day seemingly unaffected by severing the tie you two had with one another. He had his missions to think about and all you had was your friends, most stayed neutral to your breakup because no one wanted to choose sides, you wouldn't want any of them to hence why everyone was at Ino's little party.

That party.

That game.

That damn game of truth or dare.

You never liked little party games like that, you never should've picked on Shikamaru for the next question. You blame the alcohol rather than you wanting to get on his nerves in some way after he called bullshit on your answer. Truth or dare was a stupid game and you should've just picked someone else.

~ ~ ~

"So Shikamaru, truth or dare?" You look at him with your arms crossed. He stares right back at you, eyes not leaving yours as he answers.

"Dare."

Of course he'd choose dare. He could never make this easy on you. He never did give you any easy passes even when you were together.

You think for a moment and fight the urge to smile as you speak. "Kiss who you want the most." He blinks and just looks at you, his brows scrunch for a moment. "Unless you can't-"

"Easy." He says as he gets up from his position on the floor. You roll your eyes at his response and lean back into the couch. You watch him as he doesn't even need a second to ponder who he wants to kiss and before you know it he's in front of you. You look up to him confused, Shikamaru leans down and his hand brushes past your cheek to find place at the back of your neck. You can feel your heartbeat in the back of your throat as you see him pause before looking at you. His eyes don't show the playfulness and teasing he had from earlier and you begin to question it.

"What are you-" You begin to speak but are cut off quicker than you started. His hand on the back of your neck pulled you to him, lips crashing into one another and your eyes fluttering shut almost immediately. You kiss back almost instantly and you can't help but not have a single care in the back of your mind about it. The silence from your friends was another thing that you couldn't help but not care about, seeing them watch this happening, nothing mattered to you but this.

You're conflicted, that part isn't going away, you so desperately kissed Shikamaru back after everything that's happened. The pain, the hurt, the heartbreak, yet you still missed his lips on your own. The butterflies in your stomach and the blush on your cheeks immediately counteracting the argument in your head that this was a bad idea because you wanted Shikamaru back more than anything. You missed him, you missed his kisses, you missed the way he'd grab onto your waist pulling you back to him in bed, you missed Shikamaru more than anything.

But the lingering thoughts still run around in your mind.

You could never go back to him no matter how much you missed him. Too much has happened, too much that shouldn't have happened. You'd never get back with Shikamaru.

~~~

You and Shikamaru would never-

Your legs tightened around his waist as he carried you back to his bed, the only sounds in his room were of you two, your kisses, your whispers to each other. He laid you back on his bed, your back melting into his soft mattress as he kisses you harder.

His teeth nipped at your bottom lip causing you to gasp as he slid his tongue into yours. You allowed him to take over, his one hand sliding into yours as his other slid up to your cheek. The subtle softness to the hunger of his kiss balancing each other out and you couldn't help but tighten your legs around him pulling him in closer. His hips slowly grinding into yours while he left your lips, kissing you one last time before looking down at you.

"What?" You say in almost a whisper, he would've missed it if he wasn't so close to you. He just shakes his head in response and kisses you softly, a change of pace from how he was kissing you moments before, his hand left yours before he sat up and removed his shirt quickly tossing it to the side. His hands found their way back to your waist before sitting you up and helping you with taking your clothes off.

He was slow and wasn’t in a rush with you, every button on your shirt he took his time with and a part of you wished he’d be faster with this because it’s just a hook up, at the very least that’s what you thought because why? Why would he want to reopen old wounds? Why would you think that this is anything but sex?

“Baby.” His voice brings you out of your thoughts and you look up at him, eyes wide at his words and a small chuckle comes out past his lips. “You’re thinking too much.” He places a quick kiss to your lips while taking your shirt off and tossing it to the floor. His hand finds it’s way and pushes you back on his bed.

You can’t help but pout at his words, how dare he still be able to read you so easily. How dare he kiss you tonight. How dare he be the Shikamaru you missed oh so much, how fucking dare he.

In the moments of you thinking and distracting yourself Shikamaru removed the rest of his clothing and quickly found his place inbetween your legs, he lined himself up gathering your slick on his dick and you finally glance up at him to see him already watching you. A smile graces his face. “There’s my girl.” You can’t help but let the smile that’s creeping up show as he says that. His girl. Like you never weren’t his in the first place. “Are you ready?” His thumb presses to your clit and moves in quick circular motions, you were already wet, he knew every trick that was your body. You nod quickly and as he leans down to kiss you he pushes in eliciting a deep groan from himself. “Fuck- God you’re so tight still.” His hips slowly roll into you making your pussy flutter around him.

“Faster Shika.” You arch your back slightly, his length hitting that perfect spot in you and he listens, picking up his pace along with the pressure of his thrusts. Each thrust he gave was harder and harder making you see stars with every one.

The small noises that came from you were music to his ears, he missed that sound, he missed you. Shikamaru would never admit this but he was nearing his peak already. He hasn’t bothered to sleep around after parting from you and he didn’t want to, his only release has been his hand and his constant thoughts of you and now that he has you again he doesn’t know how much longer he can last, but it’s like you knew that already. Just like how he remembers every little thing that makes you tick you also know everything about him, you know when he’s close, you know what turns him on, you know Shikamaru better than anyone else.

You clench around him and he about loses it, every little profanity slips past his lips and you watch him as he’s barely holding it together. A smile tugs at your lips and you bring your hands up to hold his face. “It’s okay if it’s quick.” His face heats up in embarrassment and he shakes his head, his fingers find their way back to your clit in response cutting off any other words you were about to say.

“Fuck- I love you. I missed you.” His head drops to the crook of your neck leaving open mouth kisses all along it. “Should’ve never fuckin let you go, I love you so much.” His pace quickens and the only sound that’s heard is the sound of skin slapping skin and the whimper you give out from his confession. “I love you.”

“Shut up Shika-” you begin to speak but his head leaving from the crook of your neck to hovering about your face has the words die on your tongue.

“No, I love you, so let me love you.” He’s adamant on his words and all you can do is nod and allow him to show you. He kisses you putting all the words he couldn’t say behind it, quickly deepening it.

It doesn’t take long for his fingers on your clit to make you cum, your pussy gripping him as he fucks you through your high and you feel his hips stutter, he pulls out and releases on your stomach and not even a moment after he’s getting off of his bed and going to the bathroom to get a warm towel to clean you up.

You two sit in silence as he wipes the towel on your stomach and thighs cleaning you up. The warmth of the towel and the chill in his room is a nice feeling. The silence is nice too but you both understand there’s more to be said.

“Do you want to stay the night?” He glances up at you, a pleading look can almost be seen in his eyes, the uneasiness of his question being heard.

“Yeah, I’d like to.” You give a small smile to him and grab his hand gently tugging him back to you. He grabs his blankets and throw them over you two, pulling you to his chest and holding you tightly to him.

It’s silent for a moment and for a second you think he fell asleep already, his breathing was even and he was silent until you felt his fingers brush against your side. “I do love you, ya know.”

“Then why’d you break up with me.” You say before you can even stop yourself. You can hear him let out a small sigh and bury his head into the back of your neck.

“I was scared and stupid. There’s nothing I can say but that…I’m sorry.”

He’s holding onto you so tight, almost as if you would just get up and walk out of his bed and out of his life. You can feel the slight tremble of his hands against your body and you can’t help but pull yourself out of his grip and turn around to face him. “I love you too, you idiot.” You shake your head at him. “God you’re such an idiot.”

“I have an IQ higher than yours.”

“Then you’re a really big idiot.”

[readyplayerhobi]

Because, I Love You | 11

; Genre: Fluff, smut

; Word Count: 5.7k

; Warnings: Oral sex (male receiving), unprotected sex, creampie

; Synopsis:  According to society, Jeon Jungkook should not be with you. He should be with a younger, hotter and thinner girl instead of wasting his time on you. It’s a good thing Jungkook doesn’t care what society thinks   then.

; A/N: Can you believe I wrote all this on my phone? If you enjoyed it, let me know what you think by leaving a comment or sending me an ask! Please reblog this so others can see it and follow the story of our favourite couple, and I’d love to read any reviews if people would be so kind!

; Masterlist

-

You're not the biggest fan of airports, especially not the waiting area. It's boring and there are barely any seats, which you always think is dumb because sometimes you have to wait ages before the person you're collecting turns up. And maybe it's because you're grumpy, but you hate standing for long periods.

You've been standing here for twenty minutes now. Sure - that's partly a you problem, as you're the one who turned up early. But sometimes planes landed early, and you didn't want Jungkook to be standing around waiting.

If there's one thing worse than standing in the waiting area, it's standing in the waiting area when you've been travelling for hours in a tin can hurtling through the air a few thousand feet up. You're not too sure what Jungkook is like when flying, but you tend to be grouchy when you're so close to home. But again, maybe that's just a you problem.

Leaning back against the wall, you purse your lips as you take in the people around you and those coming out of baggage collection. It's amusing trying to guess where people have come from - sure, you could check and look at the flight arrivals board but some people may have had transfers. The couple wearing t-shirts, shorts and flip-flops have clearly come from a hot country and they must've been more concerned with ensuring they were comfy back in the original country than when they arrived here. You certainly wouldn't want to be walking outside without a coat.

Not only that, but you like to take in the diversity of luggage. The people who have battered suitcases that speak of many journeys, the people with just a carry-on that's stuffed to the brim, the people who wrap their suitcases in plastic to make sure no one will get into them. You always wonder if airport security ever breaks into those, it's something you'd experienced before and you didn't like the knowledge that someone had rifled through your stuff.

People-watching is so entertaining that you don't even realise that your fiancé has finally arrived until he calls out your name. Head jerking over to him, you take him in with his oversized white shirt and black sweatpants. The straps of his backpack frame his chest, whilst he pulls his larger suitcase behind him. Smiling widely, you move forward with your arms wide open.

He'd already been smiling at you anyway, but now his eyes crease with joy and you get the rare sight of his dimple. You swear he has the most expressive face you've ever seen, and right now those sparkling doe eyes are practically radiating happiness, despite the bags under his eyes.

"Hiiiii," You grin, wrapping your arms around his slim waist and hugging him so tightly that he lets out a little grunt. "Missed you."

"Missed you, too. I forgot how much I hate flying, but I've got so much cool shit for you!" He starts taking off his backpack immediately and you laugh, pressing a hand to his chest and shaking his head. Always so eager to be moving and doing things.

"Show me at home, the parking charges are insane for this place. Hey, Jimin - you have a good time as well?" You ask, nodding a greeting to Jungkook's best friend.

You'd spent the last two weeks alone, as Jungkook had gone to Australia for two weeks with his friends. It had been planned for the last few years, with all of them finally having the time and money to do it. As a result, you'd been greeted with plenty of pictures of Jungkook as he'd enjoyed all the touristy sites of Sydney and Melbourne. You'd gotten plenty of pictures of him snorkelling, scuba diving, windsurfing, surfing, and all the other things that you'd never in a million years do.

Given they'd gone in January, they'd enjoyed high temperatures and plenty of sun. As a result, even with the liberal sunscreen they'd been applying, both Jimin and Jungkook had tanned from all their outdoor activities. Though, you noted with amusement, Jungkook had managed to get a sunburn on his nose while Jimin's cheeks were looking a little more rosy than normal.

"I did, and thanks for agreeing to drive me home. I really appreciate it." Jimin says, giving you a quick smile and a nod of his head. His bleached blonde hair makes his golden skin look even more tanned, and you can just imagine how many women and men he left heartbroken back in Australia.

"It's no problem, come on. Do you want to stop for food on the way back?" Jimin lived in the same place as Jungkook and you, hence why you were bringing his friend back. Jungkook's other friends he'd gone with had been college friends, who didn't live near anymore so they hadn't been on the same flight.

"I'm okay, I think I just want my bed." Jimin responded whilst Jungkook nodded in agreement. You weren't surprised, they both had that weird 'wired-yet-haggard' look that travellers got after being stuck in a plane for ages.

Unsurprisingly, Jungkook falls asleep in the car within ten minutes of getting into it. The soft sound of his heavy breathing, and the slight snores that accompany it, make the corners of your lips twitch in amusement. You've missed that sound more than you'd realised, and a glance over at him makes your heart clench as a sudden wave of fondness takes over.

His head has lolled onto his left shoulder, with his mouth dropped open and his slightly too long hair falling into his eyes. A large part of you desperately wants to reach out and trace the features of his face, but you look away to concentrate on the road once more.

"Did you enjoy Australia as well? Jungkook kept telling me that you were being a hit with the folk there." Glancing into the rearview mirror, you catch Jimin's eyes and watch as the corner of his mouth quirks into a satisfied smirk.

"Yeah, it was great. Definitely want to go back, and yeah…met some friendly Aussies." A snort leaves your mouth at that.

"Friendly, is that what we're calling it?" Your answer makes Jimin laugh softly.

"Hey, they were hot and willing. Some days we just stayed on the beach pretty much - think the days I actually wore a shirt were in single figures. Unlike someone else in the car, I'm a free agent." Chewing your lip, you grip the wheel a little tighter at his words.

You're glad Jimin, and the rest of Jungkook's friends had enjoyed themselves on their trip and had been well received in return. But you'd seen the pictures that Jimin had posted on his Instagram, of the toned bodies of both men and women he'd hung out with at various points. Some featured Jungkook, your fiancé enjoying his time with his temporary new friends, and of course, he'd fit right in with his tall, muscular physique.

Frowning, you take a deep breath and try to tell yourself to get over it. You're so deep in the sudden shoring up of your emotional defences that you don't notice that Jimin has been carefully watching you out of the corner of his eye.

"Don't worry, he was loyal. Even moved his ring to pretend he was married, think he broke a lot of people's hearts but he didn't care." At that, your eyes glance to Jungkook's left hand and you note the faint tan line on his ring finger. Warmth fills you, and you feel yourself relax slightly.

Jungkook had decided he wanted an engagement ring too, though he wore it on his right hand instead of his left. The fact he'd willingly pretended to be married when you weren't there made you want to reach over and give him a huge kiss.

For a second, you press your lips together and try to prevent the smile before deciding 'fuck it', and letting it spread. What on earth had you done to end up with Jeon Jungkook?

-

Jungkook doesn't wake up even when you stop at Jimin's place, nor when you get out to help Jimin get his stuff out of the back. Even once you've parked in your drive, behind his Mercedes that hadn't moved in two weeks, he was still out. There was even a dark patch on his shirt where he'd drooled, and you snort before shaking his shoulder. It takes a few attempts - Jungkook is legendary for being hard to wake up - but he finally blinks at you bleakly.

It's amazing how he hasn't even been to bed, yet he looks like he's slept for ten hours and isn't aware of what year he's in. It's not his best look, with his sleep-swollen eyes and dried drool, yet you still look at him with love. There's something tender and special about being able to see someone in such a vulnerable state.

"C'mon sleepyhead, we're home."

He groans deeply, stretching his arms as far as he can against the car's ceiling whilst his long legs push against the foot well. You can't even imagine how tired he must feel, and the way he stretches is probably one of those satisfying stretches where every muscle tenses before relaxing in an almost seductive manner.

"Damn, I slept the whole way?" Jungkook asks, twisting his seat to see the empty back seats. Chuckling, you push some of his hair behind his ear before opening your door.

"Yep, you even drooled." Closing the door cuts off his curses, and by the time he's finished frantically wiping his chin and shirt, you've got his suitcase out and waiting. The dull grey sky is probably much more boring than the sun he'd enjoyed in Australia, and the coldness makes him shudder as he follows you inside the house.

For the next hour or two, the two of you enjoy each other's presence once more as you make a spicy chicken stir fry and he gets busy sorting out his laundry. You're not surprised that his most important business after getting home from vacation was to get his clothes cleaned.

By the time you've both finished off the stir fry - with extra helpings for Jungkook as apparently airplane food isn't anything to write home about - and Jungkook has taken a shower to wash off the grime of travelling, his first load of washing is done. You watch in amusement as he sorts everything out, carefully placing clothes on the drying rack that he doesn't want to be put into the dryer. There's no reason for you to be here, in the small utility room watching your fiancé dry clothes of all things, but you missed him.

Jungkook pauses for a moment, and he does nothing for so long that you're concerned he's fallen asleep. Moving over to him, you gently prod his arm and grin as he jolts his head up suddenly. You were half right, as he's rapidly blinking in an attempt to stay awake, even while standing and you smile.

"Alright, come on. You've sorted out your washing, for now, time for bed." He half-heartedly fights it for a second, glancing at the remainder of his washing before he trudged up to your bedroom. You follow, after locking the doors and turning everything off, and are endeared by the sight of him sprawled on the bed. He's half-dressed, only in his boxers and you get to marvel at the sight of him.

Even though he's tired, you can't help the spark of desire that ignites between your legs. It's been three weeks since you've had sex with him, and two of those weeks he hadn't even been here for you to look at. Old videos and photos you'd both made and his new pictures from Australia had been the only thing to keep you going.

But now he was back…half naked on the bed.

You don't realise you've been eyeing him so blatantly until he lets out a tired laugh. The movement makes his abs flex enticingly, leading you to crawl onto the bed with him.

"Eyeing up your prey?" Jungkook teases, one arm over his eyes whilst his free hand moves to squeeze your thigh. Part of you wants to take his hand and press it a little further to the right and up until you have those delightful fingers you love so much press right where you want them.

"Mmm, don't act like you don't like it." You emphasise your words by lightly poking the bulge that has slowly grown in his dark boxers. He might be tired, but one part of him is always willing to rise to the task.

"I always like it, I'm just a bit tired." He says, moving his arm enough until you get to see those big doe eyes staring at you. There's just enough mischief in them that lets you know though he might be tired, he's willing to play.

"Hmm…" Shifting slightly, you grasp the waistband of his boxers and tug. Slowly, they slide down and he lifts his hips slightly to help you, just enough that they pass the perfect muscles of his ass. It takes mere seconds to remove them completely, and you half-heartedly throw them in the direction of his clothes basket. 

He's already stiffening nicely, even without any touching, and you simply watch for a moment. Jungkook has a nice dick - you're one of those women who enjoys a nice-looking dick and Jungkook definitely has one. Not so long that he pokes you uncomfortably in the uterus, and not too thick that it means you need to prep every time you want a quickie.

Humming to yourself in appreciation - honestly, what had you done to get such a hunk of a man? - you trace your fingertips over his thighs. Thick muscles twitch under your touch, his skin sensitive and causing him to shiver slightly. The sensations increase as you trail your fingers higher, your nails grazing along his inside thigh with just the right amount of pressure that he lets out a huff of breath.

"Still tired?" You ask an innocence you both know you're not feeling laced into your words and Jungkook grunts. Looking directly into his eyes, and ignoring the delightful expanse of toned need skin on offer, you grin as they narrow.

"I will die if you stop." Jungkook states bluntly, one hand pressed into the bed whilst the other is pushing his hair back. It lets you see how his bicep bulges and you know that he probably kept up his workout routine even in Australia. 

"Bit dramatic, don't you think?" You tease, smirking as you trace one finger along the defined muscle that leads from his hip to his thigh. Unable to resist, you lean forward and gently bite the prominent line there and he hisses in response.

"Please just touch me," He grinds out, teeth pressed together. "I've missed you."

Even though he's already said it, and he's naked in front of you, your chest still warms at his words. To be missed by someone as handsome and sweet as Jeon Jungkook was special.

In response, you don't say anything but show your love and feelings by grasping his shaft and squeezing. The gesture instantly causes Jungkook to let out a sigh of relief, and you smirk as his cock twitches ever so slightly in your hand. He's hot beneath your palm, skin smooth and length hard. 

Tightening your grip, you jerk him a few times before slowing your movements. Instead of the quick, sharp tugs you'd just given him, you instead tense your hand and stroke his cock in slow, measured glides that twist slightly at the top. It's something he'd taught you, and you know it drives him wild when you mix up the speeds and grips. It might not be enough to get him to come, but it makes him feel good.

"Good?" You ask, checking in with him and feeling smug pride at the way his brow is creased in an expression that straddles pain and pleasure. Jungkook nods quickly, pink tongue flicking out to wet his lips before his teeth play with his lip ring.

You continue to stroke him for a minute or so, even going so far as to grip him in two hands and jerk him fast and hard in a way that makes him shout out and half sit up. But as much as you enjoy using your hand on him, you want him in your mouth too.

So you do - moving on the bed until you're in a comfy position and holding his cock straight up. Without saying anything, you suck on the tip of him, engulfing the flared head with ease and letting your tongue play around with what it can reach as you continue to stroke him with one hand from his base to your lips. His thighs tense, and one wandering hand almost grasps your shoulder before falling away to tighten on the bed sheets.

Pulling him out of your mouth, you trail your tongue down the veins of his shaft and back up repeatedly, licking him as eagerly as if he was your favourite ice lolly. The taste of him is unique, and you close your eyes as you lick, kiss and suck along him as he whines and pants out pleads to you.

Letting the tip of him rub along your lips for a moment, you give him a second to recover as you take a deep breath before slipping him into your mouth in one move. Discovering you could deep throat had been a revelation for Jungkook, and you loved the way he lost his mind whenever you did it.

Humming in happiness as taking him whole, your nose being tickled by his public hair as it rubs against his pelvis, you undulate your tongue as best you can. It's not exactly the most attractive thing, but it makes him groan most delightfully.

Swallowing, you let the strong muscles of your throat work the tip of his cock, causing it to twitch in your mouth at the pleasure. You'd smile if you didn't have a mouthful of him, but you scratch your fingernails down his thighs and hum in satisfaction. His thighs shiver, and you watch in satisfaction as his abdominal muscles convulse as he pants out.

Jungkook has always had a fantastic body, with defined abs, thick thighs, strong biceps and jaw-dropping back muscles. There's something extra special about seeing all those muscles tense and shift as you please him, unable to stay still and making him writhe on the bed. 

There's a noise that bursts from his mouth as you stroke the underside of his balls. You'd been with men before who didn't like their testicles being touched - men who found it too ticklish or just felt weird about it. Jungkook was all for ball play, and if gave him a blowjob without stroking or fondling them in some way then he'd pout a little. You think he just likes being overstimulated as he loves being edged as well. The more sensation he has, the stronger his orgasm usually was.

Part of you worries that he'll become a bit desensitised to it, so most of the time you won't go as intense. The last thing you want is for him to be unable to orgasm without a million things happening.

But for now…you'd engage in his wants.

One day, you'd try to give him a prostate orgasm. He'd already agreed to try it, but he hadn't yet felt confident enough to let you. You could only imagine how hard he'd cum then.

Another noise leaves him, and you get the sense it's asking for something. He sounds more whiny than usual, and you lift till his cock slips out of your mouth. Grasping the base of him, you stop it from falling against his stomach and instead tap it to your lips.

Each tap results in a kiss to the darkened skin.

"What is it?" You ask, pursing your lips and dragging him across them in a lazy measure. Giving blowjobs is something you enjoy, and you enjoy giving them to Jungkook even more. Apparently, you give the best blowjobs he's ever had, which does wonders for your ego.

Jungkook whines, pressing his palm to his eyes whilst his other hand flounders. It's like he can't decide whether he wants to grasp the bed, your head or himself.

"Use your words." Your own words are teasing, and you playfully lick his cock in short, quick movements. All the while, the hand grasping him moves slowly. He doesn't respond for a moment, so you make a tight circle with your index finger and thumb around him.

Slowly, you drag that circle up his cock and back down. The pressure on him is far more intense than if you just grip him in your fist, and his hips jolt up as a grunt leaves him.

"Fuck, fuck, please. Please." Jungkook moans, his breath catching in his throat as you jerk him off.

"Please…what?" You ask, raising a brow at him as a tiny smile takes over. From an outside perspective, it could be argued that you were dominating him. Neither of you engaged in the BDSM scene, and you didn't particularly care for the labels in your sex life but you did enjoy how whiny he got with you. If people wanted to label that, then fine.

"Please can we fuck? Please? Please, it's been so long." He whines, the syllables of his words extending with his stuttering breath, all of them more high-pitched than his normal voice. It makes you clench your thighs.

"You don't want me to suck you off?" Leaning forward, you circle your tongue around his swollen tip and make a questioning noise.

"No, please. Please, I want to be inside you." Jungkook begs, and you take a moment to sit back. It has been three weeks, what with the two weeks he was in Australia and the week before that when you'd been on your period.

Letting go of his cock, it falls to his stomach before rebounding slightly, trying its hardest to defy physics and reach you again. Pressing down on it, you use the space between your index and middle finger to stroke along the rock-hard muscle that lines the underside of him. Eyeing him, you bite your lip as you squeeze your inner muscles.

You're beyond wet. There's an unbearable ache in your pussy, the muscles tightening on nothing and leaving you desperate for something to fill it. For someone.

"Fuck, okay." You curse, giving in to him with ease. It wasn't a hard choice - your fingers were great and all but you'd missed the feeling of him inside you, on top of you.

Jungkook lets out a victory noise and sits up, the muscles of his abs working intensely in a way that makes your mouth water. He quickly moves onto his knees, and you let him move you into the position he wants.

What he wants is one of your favourites - you on your side, with your leg raised to expose yourself to him. He straddles your other leg, stroking his cock in firm movements that give away his familiarity with what pleases him. His free hand reaches forward and trails through the slick between your legs, fingers parting the swollen flesh there to reveal your needy entrance.

"Fuck." Is all he says, one finger scooping up some of the wetness and using it to thoroughly soak your clit. Your body appreciates it, the feeling of his fingers on your clit much more pleasurable when it's slippery compared to when it's dry. A satisfied sigh leaves your lips as you shift to watch him.

An unfortunate part of being a larger woman is that you often don't quite get to properly see what Jungkook does to you. Either you can't get into a position that makes it easy to see, or there's some annoying body part in the way. But that's what phones are for, and you've got plenty of videos and photos of him that made the lonely nights more palatable.

Though you can't see his fingers as they play with your clit, you do get to see the intense look of concentration on his face. Jungkook puts 100% effort into everything he does, and the crease between his brows gives away that he's completely focused on your body right now. Even his hand on his dick has slowed, his mind concentrating only on your body.

"Get in me already!" You whine, and it's not lost on you that the tables have turned. The raised brow on Jungkook's face tells you that it's not lost on him either.

"Now who's needy?" Jungkook mumbles, a smirk curving one side of his mouth and you scowl. The toes of the leg resting on his shoulder move to push him, and he laughs as he rocks.

"Alright, alright. One stuffed pussy, coming up." 

"That was so cringy, don't say tha-ooh." Your complaint trails off into a breathy moan, the sound high as it catches in your throat. He'd taken the opportunity of your complaining to slide into you in one, firm thrust that has your eyes fluttering closed. Your pussy tightens on him instinctively, and you feel the tiny flutters of involuntary convulsions at the thick intrusion that causes so much pleasure.

"You were saying?" Jungkook asks, leaning over and resting his hands on either side of your head. It's a slightly awkward position, as your raised leg is pushed just a little too far but you ignore it in favour of the delightful sensation of him inside you.

It feels like he's deeper than normal, thanks to your leg being stretched in such a way that it has your pussy open in a way that it normally isn't. The sensations are intense, and that's before you even comprehend the fact that Jungkook's body is almost pressed to you, his mouth pressing open kisses to your shoulder and whatever part of you he can reach.

Before you can say anything, he moves. He doesn't thrust, nor does he pound - no, he rolls his hips into you in slow, precise movements. It's almost more like a dance, like he's grinding against you just with the bonus of his cock deep in you.

Groaning deeply, your arm that isn't pressed beneath your body tries to reach for some part of him. One thing you've learnt, after almost two years together, is that Jeon Jungkook knows how to fuck.

The open position your lower half is in means that your wetness is almost obscene. Already, after only a minute or two, your thighs are soaked as his cock pushes in and slick seeps out. The squelching sound is louder than normal, and you'd feel a bit shy about it if you weren't horny as hell. Plus, one of Jungkook's kinks is trying to figure out how wet he can get you - there have been attempts on his part to get you to squirt, so you know that he's probably more turned on than ever at the way you're soaking him.

"Harder?" Jungkook asks, and you twist slightly to look at him and nod. He's sweating now, and you'll both have another shower after this, but the dark look in his eyes gives away how much he's enjoying this. As if you needed that as proof though - not when he's balls deep in you. 

"Fuuck, I've missed this." Moaning out, you push your hips towards him as best you can in your position and are rewarded with a spike of hot pleasure. Giving your shoulder a final kiss, Jungkook pushes up until he's once more knelt on the bed.

A look passes between you both as he grips your thigh with one hand, his other moving to rub at your swollen clit. Jolting at the sensation, you bite your lip and squeeze on his cock. His response is immediate - hips no longer rolling in a sensual dance but instead thrusting in a furious, hard rhythm.

Jungkook slams into you at a fast pace, his cock sliding in and out of you with ease and rubbing against all the parts that make your body tighten in delight. Skin against skin joins the sloppy sounds as he fucks you hard, taking advantage of his position to use the strength of his thighs and core muscles and the easy access he has to your position to his advantage.

Pushing your head into the pillow, you moan unintelligible words to him as your hand grasps the covers - a deep need to be doing something with your hands. His fingers are rubbing circles into your clit, just the right pressure and movements to have your hips jerking as your body fumbles between trying to seek out the pleasure or avoid it.

"Jungkook…fuck, yes…there, I'm gonna-" You don't get the words out before the pressure centred around your clit finally breaks and molten pleasure cascades out. The effect is immediate - your pussy clenches uncontrollably around him so forcefully that he's almost pushed out of you whilst muscles all over your body spasm - pleasure shorting out your nerves and thoughts.

Long moans drag from your throat, alternating between high-pitched whines and deep grunts as you let yourself go to the orgasm. It's helped along by Jungkook's continued thrusting, his cock pushing through the vice grip you have on him and stroking all the overstimulated nerves in your pussy until you're crying out mercy to him.

The hand holding your thigh tightens suddenly to almost painful levels as Jungkook's entire body stiffens, his muscles more defined than ever as his orgasm ricochets through his body. Over half an hour of edging and three solid weeks since being inside you combine for an orgasm so strong that his mind whites out for a second. His breathing stutters as a high whining moan leaves his mouth, his brow creased in almost painful pleasure whilst his cock twitches inside you, each movement jetting another rope of cum to coat your insides.

For what was probably a solid 30 seconds, though it felt much longer, neither of you move or say a word as you both come back into your minds. His cock milked dry, Jungkook starts to soften in you almost immediately and he visibly deflates with tiredness. He shifts ever so slightly and slips out of you, the loss of him both welcome and unwelcome. You can already feel the thick mess of his release beginning to trickle out of you, but you can't bring yourself to stop it.

Others probably would judge you both for it, but you'd both stopped using any protection around two months ago. It had been Jungkook who'd suggested it first, pointing out that you were going to get married and he'd been excited to have a baby previously. Apparently, it had weighed on his mind that you'd never got that baby, and he'd realised that he very much wanted to be a dad.

You'd been amenable to his thoughts, acknowledging that you'd rather have your first child sooner instead of waiting and potentially risking age-related issues. Not that there was anything wrong with women who had babies later in life, but you were well aware that you had the added risk of your weight.

So you'd both agreed to stop using protection. You wouldn't actively try - none of that tracking your ovulation or putting pressure on yourself - but you wouldn't stop it if it happened. This time, whenever it happened, it would be a choice that you'd both made. A choice that you'd welcome, but for now…you'd enjoy the benefits of having him bare.

Looking at him, you give him a tired smile before reaching out and grasping his hand. Your fingers shake slightly from the orgasm, but you squeeze his fingers affectionately. Despite the lewdness of everything that had just happened, the two of you simply stare at each other with fondness and so much love.

"Love you." You say, voice cracking a little and he gives a crooked smile before kissing your fingers.

"Love you more " 

-

By the time you get out of the shower and reenter the bedroom to put on some pyjamas, you note that Jungkook has fallen asleep already. You'd find it impressive if you didn't know he could fall asleep in an instant, so you're not surprised that between the five minutes since him getting out of the shower and you giving yourself a quick wash, he'd already passed out.

Pulling on some fresh underwear and clean pyjamas, the scent pleasing to your nose against the faint odour of sex still in the air, you observe him quietly. He's near enough on his front, one arm tucked underneath his chest while his free arm rests on the mattress, his chin almost laying on his hand. Wet hair, extra black against the white and grey of the pillowcase, is beginning to dry and you can already are that he's going to have some wild bed hair in the morning.

Grinning and climbing into bed beside him, you take a moment to plug in your phone and apply a lip sleeping mask before turning off the light. Throughout all your shuffling as you wiggle down the bed, Jungkook doesn't even twitch and you wonder just how long he's going to sleep after a long flight and intense sex.

Moving over to where you can see his form against the darkness, you rest your cheek on his shoulder and lay your free arm over his slim waist. A quiet sound rumbles in his chest, neither a groan nor a moan of acknowledgement.

Pressing your nose to his shirt, you take in the scent of the man you love so deeply and sigh happily.

He's back home.

[teaandmisanthropy]

We had to say goodbye to Snookums a few weeks ago, on August 16, 2024. These are some of the last pictures I have of him.

He was becoming increasingly uncomfortable as a result of (probably) lymphoma and had been losing weight for a couple of months and his digestive system was deteriorating.

He got lots of attention and extra treats at the end of his life, and he lived to the age of fifteen and was a happy, goofy, lazy snugglebug who was full of affection for us and friendly to everybody, including multiple dog acquaintances. He was a devoted, biddable sidekick to the BB (Arwen) (2007-2021) and a wonderful adoptive uncle to Tristana (2020, adopted April 2021-). And despite being a mellow fraidy cat who had always been submissive before, he didn't hesitate to become the senior boss cat and tell off Anubis (who is young and unusually strong and was about half again his size) and actually defended Tristana from Anubis's attempted attacks a few times when he managed to breach containment.

Snookums was my baby, and what you might call my familiar animal or one true cat, from the time we brought him home. He spent three days hiding in a blanket cave in the sauna at our old apartment in Turku and wouldn't eat for over 24 hours, until I finally got him to by feeding him from my hand.

He was afraid of crackling noises and especially plastic bags and loved chasing/ collecting hair elastics and chewing on rubber bands and silicone oven mitts and old wired earbud wires, all of which had to be hidden from him. He loved kisses and his method of kissing was to headbutt you in the head, earning him the nickname "butthead".

He was also the most talkative cat we had ever met when we got him, and used to meet me every time I came home and make a long speech that I referred to as the Kittysburg Address. He purred very loudly and was terrible at cleaning his own claws, which was perhaps partly because he was already missing a couple of the tiny teeth when we got him at age 1.5, but mostly because he was lazy. So he had to have toe gunk cleaned from his claw sheaths basically his whole life and he hated it, but was fundamentally non violent, so the most resistance he ever offered was occasionally squirming in a half hearted escape attempt.

When he was young he also used to wake me up in the middle of the night wanting to play, and I woke up many times back then to find his toys (usually hair bands and silicone oven mitts) in or around the bed. But even when young and irrepressible, Snookums was pretty lazy and spent much more time snoozing and snuggling than the BB, who often ran around bouncing off the walls without him, even though he was her constant companion and playmate.

In later years he got more lazy, as well as becoming more like himself in other ways (snuggly, silly, food-motivated), and he also acquired diabetes, which reduced his energy a lot. But he lived for about six years with his diabetes under control after his diagnosis, and was doing very well recently. The final illness was probably not related to his diabetes.

For many years, actually since he was very young, I used to periodically just start crying while I was holding him in my arms, because I loved him so much. The spectre of losing him someday, even when it was far in the future, was already scaring me. (We got him two years after the death of @waxjism's One True Cat, Lily, so this wasn't out of left field.) Maybe I did some of my grieving in advance. I felt like I didn't have time to grieve right after, but even though the sadness is massive, I have had an easier time adjusting my brain to the new reality than after the loss of past pets. Cornish rexes are very snuggly and affectionate cats and most of them spend a lot of time lying on people's laps, giving out hugs, basically, but Snookums is the only pet I've ever felt was comforting and soothing me just as much with his snuggles as I was soothing him.

[buckets-and-trees]

Congrats again on 300 my love ❤️❤️ so you may already know which AU I’m going to be requesting, because it’s my favourite story of yours (so far) and that is Fire Burning from a Cedar Tree!! This story made my heart ache and if you have the inspiration for it I’d love love love to see more!! I don’t want to restrict your imagination by being too specific, but literally anything with those two and I would die of happiness 💙💙

Em, I squealed when you dropped this into my box for the request fest! Partly because I adore you. Partly because you know I also really adore Fire Burning from a Cedar Tree. And partly I squealed out of terror because...I was worried I wouldn't be able to do any kind of follow up to this fic justice. But I took a deep breath and let that go and decided to just let whatever happen happen. I was also a little worried because when I wrote Cedar Tree, it felt very finished, so I didn't have any leftover thoughts to pick up and play around with, so I literally took that first week to just think about them and their story. And then... a lot of scenes started to emerge - stuff before and after Cedar Tree, stuff that was just them, stuff with the people around them.

This is where I landed for now. It's not the same as Cedar Tree - first thing being that it's told from Steve's perspective instead of the reader's - but I'm thinking it will make sense in their overall narrative.

This it the end of their honeymoon, a few weeks before Cedar Tree.

Title: The Thrill of Knowing How Alone We Are Characters/Pairings: King!Steve Rogers x female!Queen!Reader, brief Sam and Bucky Word Count: 1.2k Summary: The final night and morning of King Steven's royal honeymoon.

Content/Warnings: smut: vaginal intercourse/penetration

Additional Notes: The third offering to celebrate 300 followers with the request fest! While this depicts events before Fire Burning from a Cedar Tree, it does not stand alone and should be read AFTER reading the original piece. Song title inspiration from Better Love by Hozier, which is one of the songs on my original Cedar Tree writing playlist. A/N 2: This still is pretty arbitrary, but although I knew the original was a historical royal AU setting, I basically closed my eyes and pointed when I ended up saying it was medieval. I debated between medieval or Georgian/regency vibe, but NOW it's decidedly Georgian, which will be more relevant if/as I share more of their story in the future.

It’s as he’s on his back, staring at the ceiling, that Steve realizes he’s already deciphered the difference between how it sounds when you’re asleep, when you’re awake, and when you’re somewhere in between. He didn’t expect that.

He expected a lot of things after taking you as his queen, but there were so many small things that make sense, but he simply hadn’t thought of, like this – knowing so quickly the sounds of your breathing.

Ten days and in some ways he knew so much more about you than he knew about anyone else but himself – more than he’d known about his parents, than Bucky whom he’d grown up with and trusted else as his closest friend and advisor, more than his general Sam who he trusted with the security of his kingdom and his own life.

The betrothal, the brief period of engagement, the wedding, and the wedding feast had all been very public and formal. The moment the two of you had entered the royal carriage to make the journey to his small palace in the lake country for the honeymoon, everything was suddenly private and intimate. It was the first time Steve had truly been alone with you, and the first moments alone would have been awkward – he certainly hadn’t thought about that moment until suddenly the two of you were there alone – but you had clearly thought of the circumstance in advance and had been prepared to make easy conversation. While the first few minutes had been an effort to make conversation, they swiftly did progress to easy conversation. The topics had been largely trivial and unimportant, but the words were not stilted.

After a late and quick supper upon arrival, the two of you had retired to the royal bedchamber. Steve had expected a dutiful consummation, and duty may have called for the deed, but the execution had unexpectedly run deeper, warmer, with the undertones of the fledgling familiarity built over the few hours alone earlier. Each day the familiarity grew, and though there could have perhaps been moments that could have allowed each of you two part naturally, you both drew each other into extending conversations, going on walks or rides or visiting a new area of the palace together, continuing formally in the first few days until it became merely natural and the two of you forgot altogether the idea of spending much of the time apart.

Now he understood the nostalgia with which many referred to the honeymoon. It was a pity it was coming to an end. Two weeks ago, you were little more than strangers to be wed and fulfill your royal duties. Here on this final night, he could not think of it ending. Tomorrow he would go back to being the king again.

He sighed and turned his head to look at you. He wanted to reach for you, pull you closer, touch you, but the touching wouldn’t be enough, and he’d said sensibly that the two of you should retire early specifically so he could sleep and be well rested for his early departure. He hadn’t thought you warming his bed would be torture. He thought that it would be soothing and help him sleep. But this was worse, and the longer he listened, the less it seemed sleep would ever come to him. But he would not leave or send you away, it was the last night he would have this kind of closeness afforded to him with ease. He also didn’t want to disturb you if you were perhaps close to dropping off to sleep. Nearness was enough, even if it meant no sleep.

Suddenly you shifted, rolling to lie on your back, and you let out a long sigh of your own.

“Sleep alluding you, my queen?”

“As it seems to be alluding you, my king. I know the time is only slipping away until you’re required to wake and depart. Is my restless state keeping you awake?”

Steve laughed. “Perhaps, but not in the way you think.”

He rolled up on his elbow and places a hand on your hip, drawing circles there with his fingers.

“Perhaps I can beckon sleep for both of us in…other ways.”

His hand moved up to cup your breast. He gave a squeeze and brushed his thumb over your nipple, the thin fabric of your night shift barely there. You whimpered his name, arching slightly into his palm.

“Yes?” he pressed.

“Yes,” you pleaded.

While he reached down to pull up the hem of your nightdress, your hands went quickly to free his growing desire for you. Quickly he shifted his body over yours, nestling between your eagerly parting legs. He smiled as he guided his cock to your heated folds, happy to find you were already wet. He looked up to your face, and you bit your lip before reaching your hands up to his jaw and drawing him down to meet your lips. Steve devoured you with his kiss as he plunged into you, and you gave yourself up to him completely until you were both exhausted and sleep finally overtook you.

When one of his esquires woke him in the pre-dawn glow, he suppressed a groan of agitation. It is not the kind of king he has ever wanted to portray to his subjects. He will always be a dignified king. He was diligent in making sure you were tucked in with propriety before falling asleep himself, but he looks over to make sure your modesty is preserved this morning now with someone else in the room. He wants to kiss you goodbye, and while part of him wants nothing more than to wake you, see your eyes look up at him before he leaves, he refrains from doing anything more than brushing the hair off and away from your face with only the lightest caress. It would be silly to wake you for any more sentimentality. The honeymoon is truly over, and he only feels this consuming tie because of the unique circumstances of here and now. When you are both back in the capitol, it will be more normal and less sentimental. He will be himself again.

Downstairs in the hall there were simple foods ready for him to break his fast, and Lord Barnes and General Wilson were both waiting and ready to receive their king. Barnes would accompany him to Stark’s kingdom, but Wilson was there to escort the queen back to the castle.

“Guard her with your life,” Steve commanded.

Wilson gave a slight bow. “Yes, my king.”

Steve turns to look at Barnes only to find a smirk on the man’s face. “What is so amusing at this hour?”

“You gave that order as if he hasn’t been in your service for years.”

“She is the queen,” Steve reminded them.

“I will afford her the same safety and security that I have for your majesty since given the responsibility of this position.”

Steve shook his head, “You should afford her more than you do me.”

Without hesitation, he responded, “It will be done.”

Steve strode out of the foyer and Barnes fell in just one step behind him. “We need not rush away from the palace so soon. The official royal business of Stark’s expo does not require you so immediately.”

“This was the plan,” Steve retorted, “why would we alter course?”

“The sooner we leave, the sooner we can return to your queen,” he agreed.

“The sooner we can return to my kingdom, Lord Barnes.”

“Yes, your majesty.”

read more of the CEDAR TREES COLLECTION

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[dumbasspimpster]

Katherine

Back then. "You make me sick" said Katherine. "What the hell is wrong with you?"

I squirmed and looked down at the table. I pushed my used napkin back and forth. I wanted to die. "I can't help it."

"It's hard enough that everyone wants me to *lose* weight! And now... this? Do you have any idea what that's like?!" she shouted. Her mascara was starting to run. She folded her arms as if she wanted to shrink into the booth.

"But you're beautiful, and I am telling you that I think so!"

"No! You can't find *this* attractive!" she said, gesturing over her body with her hands for emphasis. "I just... can't!"

But even as I sat there watching her slip away from me, puffy eyes, mascara running, tears soaking her shirt, I considered her the most beautiful woman I had ever laid eyes on. Such a beautiful face, such lovely skin, such luscious hair, such pretty eyes. She was perfect in so many ways. And yet she couldn't overlook the one flaw that everyone attributed to her, that I had told her wasn't even a flaw to me, that genuinely made her even more attractive and worthy to me. And I was going to lose her for it. Why did I ever have to bring it up?

"You're wrong" I said. "You're perfect to me."

She looked back at me and her face contorted in anger. "I don't want to be perfect to you!" she shouted. "I just want to be perfect... period!"

I said nothing. We just glared at each other.

"I'm going to lose the weight" she said finally.

"Fine" I said. "You'll still be beautiful." I honestly believed that she would be.

"Yeah right!" she said. "So go find yourself an actual fat chick!"

"I guess I will" I said. "Because you have some real fucking issues."

"I have issues?! You're the one who LIKES FUCKING FAT CHICKS!" she shouted. The whole restaurant went quiet. Everyone was looking at us, the teenage couple having a fight.

"I'm going now" I said, summoning up my dignity. I got up, took a 20 dollar bill from my wallet, and put it down on the table. "To find myself an actual fat chick, without all the issues" I said cruelly. "Goodbye."

I started walking away. "No" she said. "Wait Bry! Bryan, wait!" she cried after me. But I was out the door. I kept my back turned so she wouldn't see that I was crying too.

---

Present day. I am successful and married with two children with my wife Alyssa.

Alyssa is my best friend. We met at a sales seminar back in our mid-twenties. She was a chubby blonde with a sweet smile and a sunny disposition. We hit it off instantly and have got along famously since. We have pretty much all the same interests. We have a loving, trusting relationship.

A few years ago, Alyssa discovered running. It's gone great for her, and she's slimmed down considerably since. I love her and support her and am happy that she feels better about herself and is healthier. I hope she lives long and we raise our kids and grandkids and die in the old folks' home together.

But our sex life has suffered. We've gone from having sex three or more times a week to once every week or two. We're busy parents so it's difficult already. Things just aren't what they used to be for us.

There is an urge growing inside me to stray. It's everywhere I go, in crowds of people, my eye is drawn to attractive women and their bodies. Searching for opportunities that I can't act on. Fantasizing about what it would be like.

Alyssa and I talked about it, years ago, about having an open relationship. On one hand, she said of course we shouldn't expect to have sex with the same person for the rest of our lives. On the other hand, she was crying. We never talked about it since. It's too painful to think of.

I'm on a trip back to my hometown for work. I haven't been back since high school. I ring up some of my old buddies and we get together for beers. We get right hammered and the conversation turns from our careers and our families to our past conquests.

"Hey" says Mark. "What was the name of that chick you were dating in Grade 11?"

"Which one?" I reply. "There were a couple."

"The chubby one. With the pretty eyes" said Mark, drunkenly. "The one who broke up with you."

My heart sinks. It's painful for me to remember. "Kat" I reply.

"Yeah, her" says Mark. "Pretty face. Too bad she was so chubby."

"Broke my heart" I say.

"You should call her up" says Mark.

"No way!" I say.

"Yeah way!" he says. "Wait, I can find her on Facebook."

Facebook. Shit, I thought. It's impossible to just forget someone and leave them behind anymore in this day and age.

Mark plays around with his phone. "Aha!" he said. "Found her! See, pretty face."

He shows me the phone screen. My heart drops on seeing Kat again. The photo is old, she is young and beautiful and as I remember her.

"She doesn't want to hear from me" I say.

"Don't be a pussy" says Mark. "Here, I'm going to message her for you."

"No!" I say, and I reach for the phone but Mark turns away and taps at his screen. I hesitate. A part of me wants to go with the flow.

"There!" he says. He shows me the message he sent with the friend request.

"Oh God, Mark. I'm married, don't you know?"

"Yeah, to a woman 1000 miles away" he responds.

Mark taps away at his phone some more. We order another round of beers. The bar is starting to empty out.

"Oh shit!" says Mark. "She replied!"

"Why do you gotta do this" I ask him, taking his phone. The reply is short and includes her new phone number. I pull out my phone and start texting her.

"Kat?"

"Its been a while"

My judgement is impaired and my inhibitions are gone. Over text, we pick up on the page we left off on.

---

One hour later, I take an Uber to Kats apartment. My nervousness is palpable. Every minute I am in the car feels unbearable. Every step up to her apartment feels like an undertaking.

I reach the door. I take a few minutes to gather up my courage, and then I knock. I hear her footsteps, then the latch of the door. Over a decade later and she could have become anything, and I am about to find out in moments. The door opens.

Kat is just as beautiful. And she's become massive.

"Kat..." I stutter, still drunk.

"Hello, Bry" she replies. I gawk at her for a moment. "Surprise!" she says, sardonically, "I got fat!"

"You're just as beautiful as I remember" I say. "More beautiful."

"Shut up and come inside" she says. "You're drunk."

I step inside. Her apartment is small but clean, with no sign of any cats. She leads me to the living room and sits me down with a tender touch on the shoulder. "Sit down" she says, "I'll make you some coffee."

She leaves to the kitchen and I watch her go. I am floored by the sheer size of her. She catches me watching over her should and my face flushes. I sit there and try to compose myself for the next few minutes. When she comes back with the coffee, I smile at her, but she doesn't return it. She pours the coffee without looking at me and sits down next to me. As she sits down, the couch creaks and the floor groans and the fat of her hip expands towards me, leaving very little space between us. She crosses her arms and seems to want to shrink into the couch.

"Thanks for the coffee" I say.

"Why are you here?" she asks.

"I'm meeting a client in town" I respond.

"I don't even know what you do" she says. "No, I mean, why are you *here*?" Meaning in her apartment with her.

"I wanted to reconnect" I say.

"Reconnect?" she says.

"Yeah" I reply. "Why did you invite me here?"

"I don't know" she says, twirling her hair. It's a gesture of vulnerability that I wouldn't have recognized from her when we were younger. She was so confident back then, so insecure at the same time. Putting up a façade all the time. She has changed over the years.

She looks at my ring. "I see you're married."

"I see you're not married" I replied.

"Well, shouldn't surprise anyone." she says. Meaning her body. There is an awkward silence and we say no more on the subject of marriages.

"Why did you break up with me?" I ask.

"Break up with you? Why did you break up with me?" she replies.

"You told me I disgusted you" I reply.

"Well I wonder why?" she says. "You told me I would be more attractive if I gained weight."

"No" I say. "Not exactly."

"Yes!" she says. "I said I was worried about gaining weight, and you said, 'Don't worry' because I will only be even more attractive."

"Okay" I say, "What's wrong with that?"

"I had body image issues!" she says. "It messed me up."

"I didn't know that" I say.

"Yeah!" she says. "It took me a while. But I'm over it."

I sip my coffee for a while. She waddles over the to kitchen and returned with a baking dish full of brownie. She picks out a square and started eating it, spilling crumbs down her shirt and between her breasts.

"I eat when I'm upset" she says.

"So do I" I say, stupidly. She gives a mirthful laugh at this.

"Can I ask you a question?" I ask.

"Sure" she says.

"Did you love me?" I reply.

"Love you?" she replies. "Love you?" as if it is a joke. "Look at me, Bry. I am disgusting. I absolutely ruined myself because of you."

"Wait, are you actually laying that on me?" I reply.

"Bry" she says. "Look at me. Look at me. No seriously, look at me." I look down at her enormous curves, she is exploding with soft fat. "You told me you like fat chicks. You told me you find this attractive."

"I do" I said.

"Then what don't you get?" she huffs, exasperated.

"What do you mean?"

"Yes, Bry. I loved you. I fucking loved you! Don't you get that?!" Kat burst into tears. She grabs for a box of Kleenex on the table but it is empty. At this, she cries harder.

I reach out and stroke her arm to comfort her. She doesn't react. "Do you want me to get you some Kleenex?" I ask.

"No, Bry. You know what you can do for me?"

"What's that?"

She picks up and offers me the dish of brownies and I take it, confused. There are still several left. Then she grabs my thigh and leans in close to me and says "I want you to shove those brownies in my fucking face."

I nearly pull away but I hesitate for just a moment. It's enough. She works her hand over and grabs my cock, already hard, and starts massaging it through my pants. I take a brownie and stuff it into her open mouth and she chews away, sobbing. I reach over and grab a roll and start feeling around her body. Everywhere I go there are soft crevices to explore.

I feed her the rest of the brownies as I rub her tummy and tell her what a disgusting fat pig she has become. She is crying at the same time and tells me how much she hates me. When she is done, I make her get down on her hands and knees and lick the dish clean. I get behind her and pull down her pants and start to finger fuck her. She moans loudly.

She turns over onto her back and pulls me down on the floor with her. We kiss passionately and she takes my hand and places it somewhere in the softness of her underbelly and jiggles it. "Jiggle me, Bry" she says. "Jiggle my fat fucking belly."

"You fucking whale" I say. "You're fucking huge."

"Am I bigger than your wife?" she asks.

"You're way fucking fatter than her. You're like, three times her size."

"Am I the biggest woman you've ever been with?" she asks.

"You will be" I say. "By far."

"You did this to me" she says. "You made me ruin myself. Do you like it?"

"Yeah" I said. "I want you to be my disgusting fuckpig."

"Good" she says, "You break it, you bought it", and reaches down for my cock.

We fumble around for a bit and try with different positions to get me in. In the end, she has to lift up her belly and I have to mount her at an angle and she pulls me in.

Her fat pussy is tight and I struggle not to come instantly. I grab at her belly, her breasts, her pillows of upper arm fat, the softness of her chin, whatever I can. She jiggles like a waterbed.

I manage to restrain myself, and she comes first. "Oh, Bry!" she says. "Oh, Bry! Fuck me! FUCK ME!" She squirts all over my dick. "Holy fuck holy fuck holy fuck HOLY FUCK!" she screams.

"Holy fuck" I say.

"Did I squirt?" she asks.

"Yes" I say.

"Holy fuck" she says. "Did you come?"

"No" I reply.

"Okay" she says. "Here." She pushes me and I pull out and roll off of her and onto the floor. She struggles and rolls over onto her hands and knees, then turns herself around and straddles me and backs her enormous ass up until my face is engulfed. I struggle to ask "What...?" but I am muffled between the fat of her thighs. I lick and taste the sweetness of her cum.

She lowers herself down and I can feel her two huge globes of breast fat spread out over my lap on either side of my dick. Her belly engulfs my torso, spreading out over my sides. She takes me up in her mouth and goes to work.

I come quickly, within only a minute or two, and she moans and sucks greedily and swallows. "Mmmmm" she says, "your cum tastes good." She collapses forward onto me, freeing my face from between the fat of her legs. She is breathing heavily. I can breath again, but it is laborious beneath her weight. We lay there for a while.

"Kat?" I ask.

"Yeah?"

"How much do you weigh?"

"Bry" she says back. "I don't want to talk dirty anymore now."

"OK" I reply.

"Bry?" she asks. "Can we cuddle?"

I help her to her feet and she leads me over to her bedroom and she flops down on her back on the sheets and I plop down on top of her. We lay there like that, holding each other without saying anything. There is music playing quietly from a CD player on her dresser. We stay there and listen for a while until the songs start repeating. I am calm and breathing slowly but somehow too excited to fall asleep.

"Bry?" she asks, after a long time. "Do you still love me?"

I don't respond for a while. I think about Alyssa and the connection we share. I think about my kids with no small amount of guilt. I reflect back on my relationship with Kat in high school and the difference I have been searching for in every relationship since. I am sober enough now to know the answer confidently. "Yes."

"I still love you too" she says.

We kiss and make out and she climbs on top of me and inserts me and wraps her arms around me and we make love like that, her on top smothering me with her softness, pulling me deeper inside her amidst her thigh and pubic fat with each thrust of her hips. I explore and caress and jiggle and worship all of her soft parts, which is to say every part of her body.

"Oh, Kat" I say. "You're a goddess. A fucking sex goddess."

"I'm your sex goddess" she says. "These curves are for you."

"You're beautiful" I say. "Beautiful, beautiful, beautiful, beautiful."

She just moans in response. She gets off me and I sidle up next to her and spoon her and she parts her legs and pulls me in, with some considerable difficulty due to her enormous ass between us pushing me away from her. We barely achieve penetration, but it is worth it. We climax together. "Oh fuck oh fuck OH FUCK!" she screams, and I feel her hot cum well up in my crotch.

It takes us both a while to catch our breath. There is another long moment of holding each other. But this time, it feels different.

Kat turns around and faces me and her face is full of sadness and dread. "Bry" she says. "I don't want you to leave me again."

"I don't want to leave" I say. "But I have to."

"Bry, don't go. Please." she says. "I'll do anything."

"I have to" I reply.

"No you don't" she says. "Leave your other life behind. You can stay right here with me and love me and feed me until I'm the size of the fridge."

"Kat" I reply, "you don't know what you're saying."

"The size of the fridge, Bry" she says. "We can have sex like this every day, only it will just keep getting better."

"Kat, stop."

"100 more pounds. 200 more. 300 more. Whatever you want."

"Kat, please stop."

"Don't you get it, Bry? It's because of you! There is nothing I want more than to keep wrecking myself, just for your pleasure. It's all I have."

"Kat, you'll eat yourself into the grave."

"Oh fuck yeah" she says, and she reaches down around her belly and starts touching herself. "Oh fuck yeah, say it again."

"You'll eat yourself into the grave." I repeat. "Is this what you want?"

She is fingering herself intensely and grabs me tightly by the bicep. "Fuck yeah" she says, "I want to eat until I fucking explode."

"You won't explode," I say, "you'll have a heart attack."

"Fuck. Yes" she says, jiggling and quaking with exertion. She is struggling to keep fingering herself so violently and so I reach down and help her.

"Is this what you want?" I ask as I work with my fingers to get her off. "To be a fat fucking blob? To die young?"

"Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. YES!" she screams. She contorts and adducts her thighs together and my hand is trapped in soft fat for a moment as she comes. She jerks and quakes as she comes down from the orgasm. "Oh, Bry..."

I am up and putting my clothes on. "I'm leaving" I say.

"Bry, wait" she moans, but I leave her there, a soft quaking orgasmic mound of fat on the bed.

[nesiacha]

In defense for Marie Antoinette

A long time ago following a passionate debate and good reblogs that you can easily find on Tumblr (if everyone agrees I will put the link), I had fun defending Marie Antoinette (although a fervent sympathizer about the Montagnards).As in two weeks it will be the defense of Manon Roland, I will put this ability to defend to the test by publishing what I had already written about the former queen of France. Here we go:

The problem with Marie Antoinette is that her education was often neglected, and her mother, the Great Marie Thérèse, an excellent politician, instilled in her very conservative ideas, not to mention the fact that she wanted her daughter to become a spy but without the great talent political of her mother. This will be one of the reasons why it will be a great problem when she arrives at the Court.

She won't have the necessary mental strength to face the heaviness of the protocol, and although she caused major problems initially in terms of expenditure, her frankness, unsuitable for a dauphine then a queen, and her frivolity don't help. In addition to the expenses she incurs to please her friends (notably Polignac), wanting to forget the pressure her mother puts on her, despite Louis being a good husband to her, with no children, which is a source of gossip, she decides to increasingly take refuge in Trianon, which again leads to excessive spending, not to mention new clothes. But it's important to note that once she had children, she behaved much less frivolously, more reasonably, less extravagantly, but refused to reintegrate Versailles, which she deemed as heavy and hypocritical (rightly so, but as her mother said, with privileges come duties; if she had made a concession on this side, perhaps she could have obtained less absurd protocol).

Once she had children with her husband Louis XVI, they did everything to ensure that their offspring did not have a high opinion of themselves. Just look at the fact that she wanted her children to dress equally to some of the household children and in her letters indicates that she does not want her daughter to be as arrogant as her aunts. She even tells them that since there are more and more poor people in France, they won't have gifts at a certain period. So she's not a snobbish woman.

Contrary to popular belief, Louis XVI is never influenced by his wife; in fact, she herself knows how to stay in her place as a queen consort and simply prefers to organize certain festivities. But her excessive frankness, rejection of her duties, frivolity in expenditure, and the fact that she sometimes openly shows disdain, for example, for Turgot (one of the few good financial controllers of Louis XVI) will make her the object of all vices in France and a scapegoat for all the decisions of the old Regime.

Do you know who agrees on this point? The revolutionary Saint Just himself in his writings in 1792, who immediately grasped the personality of the Queen in these terms: "Rather deceived than deceitful, rather light than perjured, entirely devoted to pleasure, she seemed to reign not in France but at Trianon."

Moreover, Joséphine de Beauharnais, who was a hundred times more spendthrift and frivolous than her, was much more loved because she took care of her image unlike Marie Antoinette. Perhaps because Marie Antoinette was more frank than her .

In the end, Marie Antoinette stole less from the coffers, so to speak, because her husband wouldn't have let her, and she herself wouldn't have wanted to. Theresia Cabarrus, who profited well from Tallien's scam, was seen as wonderful because she took care of her image. Furthermore, Marie Antoinette clearly displayed her allegiance and stuck to it until the end (although this allegiance was outdated, her mother's conservative ideas about absolute monarchy), faithful to the people she loved (she insisted on sheltering her friends, but Lamballe returned despite the queen's pleas not to do so to support her, faithful to her husband, despite the arranged marriage, because even though she insisted they leave, she didn't want to leave him alone), isn't a friend of the good day only, compared to Cabarrus, who claimed to be imbued with Enlightenment ideas, said she didn't like bloodshed, but in the end, went from one bloody person to another not out of survival (as she liked to say) but out of wealth before marrying a royalist. Yet Theresia and Beauharnais (who took part in the serious scandal during the creation of the Bank of France as a shareholder) did not receive as much criticism.

Of course, we can also understand Marie Antoinette's criticism of Necker, a proud man who is content to borrow and pretend to be more competent than he really is and stabs people in the back (he criticized Turgot but if Turgot hadn't played the "villain," Necker wouldn't have been able to borrow a penny to cover his good reputation not to mention his weather vane attitude and his false attitude as a friend of the people that Marat denounced ), although I don't understand the contempt she had for Turgot.

For her betrayal towards France, I agree with all of you , it's inexcusable, I won't go back on that. What Louis XVI did (primarily him because he was never influenced by his wife, but she also has some responsibility in this regard) is involuntary mass homicide against the French people for the return of absolute monarchy. The problem is that at that time we didn't have the necessary evidence to condemn her (although there was legitim suspicion of the truth), it was a parody and even Saint Just seemed to oppose this execution by telling Robespierre that "this act (the execution) would not benefit national sovereignty." Unfortunately, the person who said this in one of the forums, however, very educated, lost the citation from this book, so let's go cautiously, especially since if the letters had been found, I think Saint Just would have been in favor of the execution of Marie Antoinette. But as mentioned above, at least Antoinette did not betray any ideals, she was clear about that unlike Cabbarus who claimed that she rejected Tallien because of the blood in his hand but then go to Barras, said that she is attired by « les idées lumières » and go to wedding a monarchist, etc., who do not receive as much criticism. But I also understand the hatred she received from Jacques Roux, from a Momoro, and from so many others who never had luxury and found her expenses and behavior legitimately scandalous. But like everyone else outraged and shocked by the behavior of Hébert (and Pache, Chaumette, and Jacques Louis David should not be forgotten even though I like Pache and I find Chaumette unfairly maligned by their best moments it’s was not their best moments and should have died of shame for using such a method, as for Hébert and even to a lesser extent Jacques Louis David, let's not even talk about them).

At least Marie Antoinette unlike other didn’t betrayals the ideas of the revolution unlike some who claimed themself child of the revolution and then betray the revolutionnaries.

If we want to fight against the dishonest people who have blamed everything on people like Saint Just, Robespierre, Couthon, Billaud Varennes (isn't Fouché and Turreau?) we must also do the same thing even for people who are against the revolution even if I agree that the martyrdom of the upper class is tiring and that making Marie Antoinette a pure feminist and innocent icon is just as wrong (but I am here to defend her in this post).

P.S.: I know that Theresia and Joséphine did not harm people unlike their husbands and lovers at least not as much; I do not want to absolve Napoleon, Barras, Tallien; they did not need these women to do what they are reproached for, but to better situate them in relation to Marie Antoinette.